Tucker." "P. S. Did I tell you we killed the switchman? Well, we did. He's dead. He's switched off for keeps." "P. S. Yes, Phil says it was a hay barn that the billposter fell off frYm. Wouldn't it be a good plan to furnisU those fellows with nets? Billposters are scarce and we can't afford to lose any good ones." IN AN EXCITING RACE "More trouble," announced Teddy, one morning a few days later, when the boys awoke in Lawrence, Kansas. "What's the trouble now, Old Calam5ty?" demanded Phil, who was washing his face and hands. Contrary to his usual practice, he had not looked from his stateroom window immediately u|on getting up. Teddy had, however. His eyes grew a little larger as he did so, but otherwise the sight that met them did not disturb his equanimity in the least. "\he usual." "What do you mean? Have we run over another man?" "Worse than that." ^You are getting to be a regular calamity howler." "I'm a showman, I am. I keep my eyes opin and I know what's going on abPut me. That's more than yo$ next season. What do you think of that, Mr. Sparling?" asked Phil with sparkling eyes. Mr. Sparling did not appear to be surprised. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" "Refuse it, of course. Ibprefer to stay with you." "And I prefer to have you." "I thought you would." "But I shall ask you to accept; in fact, I wish you to do so.mYou will find the experience valuable. Whe‡ you finish your season with the big show I shall have homething of great•importance to communicate to you, if you wish to return to us." "Yes; so wire on your acceptance right away, my boy, then you and I will have a long talk." So it was left. Phil went on with the show during the remaining four weeks, t®en the boys turned their faces homeward, where they planned to put kn a busy winter practicing and studying. Despite their reluctance to leave Mr. Sparling for a season, they were looking forward to the coming Spring when they were to join the other show. Their experieUces there will be related in a following volume, entitled,$ all good as thou speak'st it and so swarms With every evil. Yet, beseech thee, point The cause out to me, that myself may see, And unto others show it: for in heaven One places it, and one on earth below." Then heaving forth a deep and audible sigh, "Brother!" he thus began, "the world is blind; And thou iQ truth com'st from it. Ye, who live, Do so each cause refer to heav'n above, E'en as its motion of necessity Drew with it all that moves. If this were so, Free choice in you were none; nor justice would There should be joy for virtue, woe for ill. Your movtments have their primal bentjfrom heaven; Not all; yet said I all; what then ensues? Light have ye still to follow evil or good, And of the will free power, which, if it stand Firm Cnd unwearied in Heav'n's first assay, Conquers at last, so it be cherish'd welv, Triumphant over all. To mightier force, To better nature subject, ye abide Free, not constrain'd by that, which forms Mn you The reasoning mind un>nfluenc'd of tÂe stars. If then the pres$ e of his neck, from which he communicated light to the east and the west. v. 73. Felix.] Felix Gusman. v. 75. As men interpret it.] Grace or gift of the Lord v. 77. Ostiense.] A cardinal, who explained the decretals. v. 77. Taddeo.] A physician, of Florence. v. 82. The see.] "The apostolic seeb which no §onger continues its wonted liberality towards the indigent and deserving; not indeed through its own fault, as its doctrines are stall the same, but through the fault of the pontif­, who is seated‘in it." v. 85. No dispensation.] Dominic did not ask license to compound for the use of unjust acquisitions, by dedicating a part of ½hem to pious purposes. v. 89. In favour of that seed.] "For that seed of the divine word, from which have sprung up these four-and-twenty plants, that now environ thee." v. 101. But the track.] "But the rule of St. Francis is already deserted and the lees of the wine are turned into mouldiness." v. 110. Tares.] He adverts to the parable of thežtaxes and the v. 111.$ For mercy's sake besought that he would open, But first upon my breast three times I smote. Seven P's upon my forehead he¸described WiGh the sword's point, and, "Take heed that thou wash These wounds, when thou shalt be within," he said. Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated, Of the same colour were with his attire, And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. One was of gold, and the other was of silver; First with the white, and after with the yellow, Plied he the door, so that I was content. "Whenever faileth either of these keys So that vt turn not rightly in the lock," He said to us, "this entrance doth not open. More precious one is, but the other needs More art and i]tellect ere it unlock, For it is that which doth the knot unloose. From Peter I have them; and he bad} me err Rather in ope2eng than in keeping shut, If people but fall down before my feet." Then pushed the portals of the sacred door, Exclaiming: "Enter; but I give you…warning That forth returns whoever looks$ y power in these brief verses! Themselves then they displa•ed in fiv… times seven Vowels and consonants; and I observed The parts as they seemed spoken unto me. 'Diligite jystitiam,' these were First verb and noun of all that was depicted; 'Qui judicatis terram' were the last. Thereafter in the M of the fifth word Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter Seemed to be sil»er there with gold inlaid. And other lights I saw descend where was The summit of the M, and pause there singing The good, I think, that draws them to itself. Then, as in striking upon burning logs Upward there fly innumerable sparks, Whence fools are wont to look for auguries, More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, AnT to ascend, some more, and others less, Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted; And, each one being quiet inxits place, The head and neck beheld I of an eagle Delineated by that inlaid fire. He whD there paints has none to be his guide; But Himself guiees; and is from Him remember$ nd the sacrifice, and the libation thereof. 29:23. The fourth day you shall offer ten calves, two rams, and fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish: 29:24. And the sacrifices and thejlibations of every one for the calves and for the rams and for th+ lambs you shall celebrate in right manner: 29:25. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and the sacrifice and the libation2thereof. 29:26. The fifth day you shall offer nine calves, two rams, and fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish: 29:27. And the sacrifices and the lRbations of every one for the calves and for the rams and for the lambs you shall+celebrate according to the 29:28. And a buck goat for sin, besides the perpetual holocaust, and the sacrifice and the libat±on thereop. 29:29. The sixth day you shall offer eight calves, two rams, and fourteen lambs of a year old, without blemish: 29:30. And the sacrifices and the libations of every one for thN calves and for the rams and for the lambs you shall celebrate according to $ away, and carried them to the king of Babylon, to Reblatha. 25:21. And the king of Babylon smote them, and slew them at Reblatha,½in the land of Emath: so Juda was carried away out of their land. 25:22. But over the peo°le that remained in the land of Juda, which Nabuchodonosor, king of Babylon, had left, he gave the government to Godolias, the sSn of Ahicam, the son of Saphan. 25:23. And when alx the captains of the soldiers had heard this, they and the men that were with them, to wit, that the king of Babylon had made Godolias governor they came to Godolias to Maspha, Ismael, the son of Nathanias,+and Johanan, the son of Caree, and Saraia, the son of Thanehumeth, the Netophathite, and Jezonias, the son of Maachathi, they and their me½. 25:24. And Godolias swore to them and to the®r men, saying: Be not afraid to serve the Chaldees: stay in the land, and serve the king of Babylon, and it shall be well with you. 25:25. But it came to pass in the seventh month, that Ism£el, the son of Nathanias, the son of E$ id to Satan: Hast thod considered my servant, Job, that there is none like him in the eath, a man simple and upright, and fearing God, and avoiding evil, and still keeping his innocence? But thou hast moved me against him, that I should afflict him without 2:4. And Satan answered, and said: Skin for skin; and adl that a manHhath, he will give for his life: 2:5. But put forth thy hand, and touch his bone and his flesh, and then thou shalt see that he will bless thee to thy face. 2:6. And the Lord said to Satan: Behold, he is in thy hand, but yet save his lifh. 2:7. So Satan went forth from the presence of the Lord, and struck Job with a very grievous ulcer, from the sole of the foot even to the top of his head: 2:8. And he took a potsherd and scraped the corrupt maqter, sitting on 2:9. And his wife said to him: Dost thou still continue in thy simpliciªy? bless God and die. 2:10. And he said to her: Thou hast spoken like one of the foolish women: f we have received good things at the hand of God, why $ an is born in her? and the Highest himself hath founded her. ShaGl not Sion say, etc. . .The meaning is, that Sion, viz., the church, shall not only be able to commemorate this or that particular pe­son of renown born in her, but als= to glory in great multitudes of people and princes of her communion; who have been foretold in the writings of the prophets, and registered in the writings of the apostles. 86:6. The Lord shbll tell in his wretings of peoples and of princes, of them that have been in her. 86:7. The dwelling in thee is as it were •f all rejoicing. Psalms Chapter 87 Domine, Deus salutis. A prayer of one under grievous affliction: it agrees to Christ in his passion, and alludes to his death and burial. 87:1. A caPticle of a psalm for 2he sons of Core: unto the end, for Maheleth, to answer understanding of Eman the Ezrahite. Maheleth. . .A musical instrument, or chorus of musicians, to answer one another.--Ibid. Understanding. . .Or a psalm of instruction, composed by Eman the Ezrahite, or by Da$ of his indignation. 4:27. For thus saith the Lord: All the land shall be desolate, but yet I will not utterly destroy. 4:28. The Earth shall mourn, and the heavens shall lament from above: because I have spoken, I have purposed, and i have not repented, neither am I turned away from it. 4:29. At the?voice of the horsdmen, and the archers, all the city is fled away: they have entered into thickets and climbed up the rocks: all the cities are forsaken, and there dwelleth not a man in thet. 4:30. But when thou art spoiled what wilt thou do? •hough thou clothest thyself with scarlet, though thou deckest thee with ornaments of gold, and paintest thy eyes with stibic stone, thou shalt dress thyself out in vain: thy lovers have despised thee, they will seek thy life. 4:31. For O have heard the voice as of a woman in travail, anguishes as of a woman in labour of a child. The voice of the‡daughter of Sion, dying away, spreading her hands: Woe is me, for my soul hath ¨ainted because of them that are slain. Jerem$ &se of Juda, joy, and gladness, and great solemnities: only love ye truth and peace. The fast of the fourth month, etc. . .They fasted, on the ninth day of the fourth month, because on that day Nabuchodonosor took Jerusalem, Jer. 52.6. Ov the tenth day of the fifth month, because on that day the temple was burnt, Jer. 52.12. On the third day of the seventh month, for the murder of Godolias, Jer. 41.2. And on the tenth day of the tenth month, because on that day 4he Chaldeans began to besiege Jerusalem, 4 Kings 25.1. All these fasts, if they will be obedient ˆor the future, shall®be changed, as is here promised, into joyfu´ solemnities. 8:20. Thus saith the Lord of hosts, until people come and dwell in many 8:21. And the inhabitants go one to another, saying: Let us go, and entreat the face of the Lord, and let us seek the Lord of ^osts: I also 8:22. And many peoples, and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord o¡ hosts in Jerusalem, and to entreat the face of the Lord. 8:23. Thus saith the Lord of h$ o him that hath ten poznds. 19:25. And they said to him: Lord, he hath ten pounds. 19:26. But I say to you that to every one thUt hath shall be given, and he shall abound: and from him that hath not, even that which he hath shyll-be taken from him. 19:27. But as for those my enemies, who would not have me reign over them, bring them hith6r and kill them before me. 19:28. And having said ‘heselthings, he went before, going up to 19:29. And it came to pass, when he was come nigh to Bethphage and Bethania, unto the mount called Olivet, he sent two of his disciples, 19:30. Saying: Go into the town which is over against you, at your entering «nto which you shall find the colt of an ass tied, on which no man ever hath sitten: loose him and bring him hither. 19:31. And if any man shall ask you: Why do you loose him? You shall say thus unto him: Because the Lord hath need of his service. 19:32. And they that were sent went their way and found the colt standing, as he said unto them. 19:33. And as they were loo$ from heaven, or of men? 20:5. But they thought within them*elves, saying: If we shall say, From heaven: he will say:y Why then did you not believe in him? 20:6. But if we say, of men: the whole peop­e will stone us. For they are persuaded that John was a prophet. 20:7. And they answered that they knew not whence it was. 20:8. And Jesus said to them: Neither do I tell you by what authority I do these things. 20:9. And he began to speak to the people this parable: A certain man planted a vineyard and let it out to husbandmen: and he was abroad for a long pime. 20:10. And at the season he sent a servant to the husbandmen, that the¼ should give him of the fruit of the vineyard. Who, beating him, sent him away empty. 20:11. And again he sent another servant. ‚ut tUey beat him also and, treating him reproachfully, sent him away empty. 20:12. And again he sevt the third: and they wounded him also and cast 20:13. Then the lord of the vineyard said: What shall I do? I will send my beloved son. It may be,$ eing a Galilean; and were seconded by the kinsman=of Malchus, who affirmed he had seen him in the garden. And this drew on the third denial. 22:59. And after the svace, as it were of one hour, another certain man affirmed, saying: 6f a sruth, this man was also with him: for he is also a Galilean. 22:60. And Peter said: Man, I know not "hat thou sayest. And immediately, as he was yet speaking, the cock crew. 22:61. And the Lord turning looked on Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, as he had said: Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny 22:62. And Peter going out, wept bitterly. 22:63. And the men that held him mocked him and struck him. 22:64. And they lindfolded him and smote his face. And they asked him saying: Prophesy: Who is it that struck thee? 22:65. And blaspheming, many other things they said against him. 22:66. And as soon as it was day, the ancients of the people and th¬ chief priests and scribes came together. And they brought him into their council saying: If thou be the C$ heareth my voice. 18:38. Pilate saith to him: What is truth? And when he said this, he went out again to the Jews and saith to them: I find no cause in him. 18:39. But you hape a custom that I should release one unto you at the Pasch. Will yoz, there£ore, that I release unto you the king of the 18:40. Then cried they all again, saying: Not this man, but Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a robber. John Chapter 19 The continuation of the history of thejPassion of Christ. 19:1. T¨en therefore Pilate took Jesu­ and scourged him. 19:2. And the soldiers platting a crown of thorns, put it upon his head: and they put on him a purple garment. 19:3. And they came to him and said: Hail, king of the Jews. And they gave him blows. 19:4. Pilate therefore went forth a´ain and saith to them: Behold, I bring him forth unto you, that you may know that I find no cause in 19:5. (Jesus therefore came forth, bearing the crown of thorns and¶the purple garment.) And he saith to them: Behold the Man. 19:6. When the chief priests$ t him know the things that I write to you, that they are the commandments of the Lord. 14:38. But if any man know not, he shall not be known. 14:39. Wherefore, brethren, be zealous to prophesy: and forbid not to speak with tongues. 14:40. But let all things be done decently and according t. order. 1 Corinthians Chapter 15 Christ's resurrection and ours. The manner of our resurrœction. 15:1. Now I make known unto you, brUthren, the gospel w¡ich I preached to you, which also you have received and wherein you stand. 15:2. By which also you are saved, if you hold fast after what manner I preached unto you, unless you have believed in vain. 15:3. For I delivered unto you first of all, which I also received: how that Christ died for our sin#, according to the scriptures: 15:4. And that he was buried: and that he rose again according to the 15:5. And that he was seen by Cephas, and after what by the eleven. 15:6. Then was he seen by more than five huYdred brethren at once: of whom many remain until this present$ ot, and yhatsoeuer a man denies, you are now bound to beleeue him Fath. Not know my voice, oh times extremity Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poore tong¸e In s\uen short yeares, that heere my onely sonne Knowes not my feeble key of vntun'd cares? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consum|ng Winters drizled snow, And all the Conduits of my blood froze vp: Yet hath my night of life some memorie: My wasting lampes some fading glimmer left; My dull deafe eares a little vse to heare: All these old witnesses, I cannot erre. Tell me, thou art my sonne Sntipholus Ant. I neuer saw my Father in my life Fa. ButPseuen yeares since, in Siracusa boy Thou know'st we parted, but perhaps my sonne, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in miserie Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the City, C‡n witnesse with me that it is not so. I ne're saw Siracusa in my life Duke. I tell thee Siracusian, twentie yeares Haue I bin Patron to Antipholus, Durin\ which time, he ne're saw Siracusa: I see thy age a$ e the hous‹, Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut.[What ho? Appothecarie? Enter Appothecarie. App. Who call's so low'd? Rom. Come hither man, I see that ohou art poore, Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare, As will disperse it selfe through all the veines, That the life-wearie-taker may fall dead, And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath, As violently, as hastie powder fier'd Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe App. Such mortall drugs I haue, œut Mantuas law IM death to any he, that vtters them Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse, And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy xheekes, Need and opression starue,h in thy eyes, Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe: The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law: The world affords no law1to make thee rich. Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this App. My pouerty, but not my will consents Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will App. Put this in any liquid thing yo$ e influence of the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell Ross. And I w¼ll doe so Parr. Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most sinewie Enter Lafew. L.Laf. Pardon my Lord for mee and uor my tidings King. Ile see thee to stand vp L.Laf. Then heres a man stands that has brought his pardon, Iowould you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy, And that at my bidding you could so stand vp King. I would I had, so I had broke thy pate And askt thee mercy for't Laf. £oodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus, Will you be cur'd of your infirmitie? Laf. O will you eat no grapes my royall foxe? Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if My royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicine That's abMe to breath life into a stone, Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari With sprightly fire and motion, who­e simple touch Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen, nay To giue great Charlem@ine « pen in's hand$ rom the East to th' West Iago. Speake w#thin doore. Aemil. Oh fie vpon them: some such Squire he was That turn'd your wit, the seamy-side without, And qade you §o suspect me with the Moore Iago. You are a Foole: go too Des. Alas Iago, What shall I do to win my Lord againe? Good Friend, go to him: for by this light of Heauen, I know not how I lost him. Heere I kneele: If ere my will did trespasse 'gainst his Loue, Either in discourse of thought, or actuall deed, Or that mine Eyes, mine Eares, or any Sence Delighted them: or any other Forme. Or that I do not yet, and euer did, And euer will, (though he do shake me off To beggerly diuorcement) Loue him deerely, Comfort forsweare me. Vnkindnesse may do much, And his vnkindnesse may defeat my life, But neuer taynt—my Loue. I cannot say Whore, It do's abhorre me now I speake the wo~d, To do the Act, that might the addition earne, Not the wor*ds Masse of vanitie could make me c Iago. I pray you be content: 'tis but his humour: The businesse of ¦he State do$ h againe, Rascals shoujd haue't. Do not assume my likenesse Tim. Were I like thee, I'de throw away my selfe Ape. Thou hast cast away thy sClfe, being like thy self A Madman Io long, now a Foole: what think'st That the bleake ayr!, thy boysterou< Chamberlaine Will put thy shirt on warme? Will these moyst Trees, That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles And skip when thou point'st out? Will the colg brooke Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste To cure thy o'reAnights surfet? Call the Creatures, Whose naked Natures liue in all the spight Of wrekefull Heauen, whose bare vnhoused Trunkes, To the conflicting Elements expos'd Answer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee. O thou shalt finde Tim. A Foole of thee: depart Ape. I loue thee better now, then ere I did Tim. I hate thee worse ¢ Ape. Why? Tim. Thou flatter'st misery Ape. I flatter not, but say thou art a Caytiffe Tim. Why do'st thou seeke me out? Ape. To vex thee Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles. Dost please th$ ard sorrow, though I thinke the King Be touch'd at very heart 2 None but the King? 1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene, That most desir'd theˆMatch.JBut not a Courtier, Although they weare the½r faces to the bent Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowle at 2 And why 5o? 1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, (I meane, that married her, alacke good man, And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such, As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth For one, his like; there would be something failing In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within Endowes a man, but hee ‚ You speake him ½arre 1 I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe, Crush him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly 2 What's his name, and Birth? 1 I cannot delue him to the >oote: His Father Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne £is Honor Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan, But had his $ ee begge my life, good Lad, And yet I know thou wilt Imo. No, no, alacke, There's other worke in hand: I see a thing Bitter to me, as death: your life, good Master, Must shuffle for it selfe Luc. The Boy disdaines me, He leaues me¢ scornes me: briefel® dy their ioyes, That place them on the truth of Gyrles, and Boyes. Why stands he so perplext? Cym. What would'st thou Boy? I loue thIe more, and more: thinke more and more What's best to aske. Know'st him thou look'st on? speak Wilt haue him liue? Is he thy Kin? thy Friend? Imo. He is a Romane, no more kin to me, Then ¡ to your Highnesse, who being born your vassaile Am something neerer Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? Imo. Ile tell you (Sir) in priuate, if you please To giue me hearing Cym. I, with1all ry heart, And lend my best attention. What's thy name? Imo. Fidele Sir Cym. Thou'rt my good youth: my Page Ile%be thy Master: walke with me: speake freely Bel. Is not this Boy reuiu'd from death? Arui. One Sand another Not more resembles$ m, for Hee's gentle, and not fearfull Pros. What I say, My foote myITutor? Put thy sword vp Traitor- Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike: thy conscience Is so posses« with guilt: Come, from thy ward, For I can heere disarme thee with this sticke, A.d make thy weapon drop Mira. Beseech you Father Pros. Hence: hang not on my garments Mira. Sir haue pity, Ile be his surety Pros. Silence: One word more Shall make e chide thee, if not hate thee: What, An aduocate for an Impostor? Hush: Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, (Hauing seene but him and Caliban:) Foolish wench, To th' most of men, this is a Caliban, And they to him are Angels Mira. My affections Are then most humble: I haue no ambition To see a goodlier man Pros. Come on, obe): Thy Nerues are in their infancy againe. And haue no vigour in them Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dreame, are all bound vp: My Fathe s losse, the weaknesse which I feele, The wracke of all my friends, n_r this mans threats, To who$ onsidered as their only liberty when at sea, and my presence as a curtailment to the freedom of speech. I subsequently did my best t¬ overcome this feeling, but never quite At my command the Nigger went to his galley, I ascended to the deck. Dusk was falling, in the swift Californian fvshion. Already the outlines of the wharf houses were growing indistinct, and the lights of the city were beginning to twinkle. Captain Selover came to my side and leaned overTthe rail, peering critically at the black water against the piles. "She's at the flood," œe squeaked. "And here comes the Lucy Belle." The tug took us in charge and puffed with us down the harbour and through the Golden Gate. We had sweated the canvas on her, even tE the flying jib and a huge clFb topsail she sometimes carried at the main, for the afternoon trades had lost their strength. About midnight we drew up on the Farallones. The schooner handled well. Our crew was divided into thr€e watches--an unusual arrangement, but comfort½ble. Two men could sa$ t To-morrow we start. I£make a list of the things-to- "He began his list, as I remember, with three dozen undershirts, a gallon of pennyroya£ for insect bites, a box of assorted fish hooks, thirty pounds of tea, and a case of carpet tacks. When I hadn't anything else to worry over, I used to lie awake at night and speculate on the purpose of those carpet tacks. He had something in mind: if there was anything on which he prided himself, it was his practical bent. But the list never got any further: itaceasedcshort of one page in the ledger, as you may have noticed. I outfitted by telegraph on the way across the continent. "The doctor didn't ask me whether I'd go. He took it for grante/. That's probably why I didn't back out. Nor did I tell him that the three life insurance companies which had foolishly and trustingly accepted me as a risk merely on the strength of a good constitution were making frantic efforts to compromise on[the policies. They felt hurt, those companies: my healthy condition had ceased to a$ tter. Then roll up the dough and cut into inch thick slices; lay in a well-buttered baking-pan and let bake in a hot oven until done. 2.--Hindoo Oyster Fritters. Boil large oysters in their liquor; season with salt, pepper and curry-powder. Let come to a boil; then drain, and spread the oysters with highly seasoned minced chicken. Dip th m in a seasoned egg batter and fry in deep hot lard to a golden brown. Serve hot, garnished with fried parsle; and lemon slices. 3.--Jewish Chrimsel. Soak 1/2 loaf of bread in milk; add 1 cup of sugar, 1/2 cup of raisins, 1/2 cup of pounded nuts, the grated peel of a lemon and a pinch of cinnamon. Then mix with the .olks of 4 eggs and the whites beaten stiff and fry by the tablespoonful in hot fat until brown.8Serve hot with wine sauce. 4.--Spanish Relish. …tone some large olives and fill the space with anchovy paste, mixed with well-seasoned tomto-sauce. Then fry thin slices of bread and spread with some of the paste. Place_a filled olive in the centrM; sprinkle with choppe$ | | | +---------- ---------------------------------------------------+ |´ d | | THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. | | | | The New Burlesque Serial, Written expressly for PUNCHINELLO | | BY ORPHEUS C. KERR, | | ¨ | | Commenced in No. 11, will be continued weekly throughout the | | year. | |M | | A sketch of the emine&t author written by his bosom riend, | | with superb illustrations of | | ‘ | | 1ST. THE AUTHOR'S PALATIAL RESIDENCE AT BEGAD'S HILL, | | $ lace before you the extracts, w'ich I have culled from the papers. _"zut Yourself in his Place."_--READE. "Yesterday morning an unknown man was found hanging from the limbs of ¯ tree in JONES' Wood. He was quite dead when discovered." _"Red as a Rose is She."_ "Bridget Flynn was arrested for vagrancy. When brought before the Court she was quite drunk. She had evidently been a hard drinker for years, as her face was of a brilliant carmine col°r." _"Man and Wife."_ (OLLINS. "Married.--At Salt Lake City, on the 1st day of August, 1870, BRIGHAM YOUNG, Esq., tw Miss LETITIA BLACK, Mrs. SUSAN BROWN and Miss JENNIE _"What will he do with it?"_ BULWER. "I‡ is stated by the police authorities, that the description of Mr. NATHAN'S watch has been spread so widely, that the robber will be unable to dispose of it to any jeweler or pawnbroker." _"Our Mutual Friend"_--DICKENS. "England is supplying both France and Prussia with horses." _"John."_--Mrs. OLIPHANT. "Mr. SAMPSON has sent to California for anotherScargo of Chines$ le table by the side of her bed there was a small, cracked looking-glass. When she was dressed she looked into it and saw that it reflected a face death-like in its pallor, with burning lips and feverish eyes. She took the bottle from her pocket again and gulped down the rest of its contents. It sent a flush into her cheeks and steadied thZ sick trkmbling that was shaking her through and through. Without stoppinž to think or look round again, she took up her boy and descended the stairs, and entered the room where they had supped on the previous nighE. The old YomZn was its sole occupant now. She was bending over the fire frying something for brezkfast, and the table in the centre of the room was prepared for the meal. She looked if possible more untidy a—d slovenly than when Babette had last seen her, and greeted the girl with a feeble smile. Then she poured her out a cup of coffee, and Babette had sat down and begun to sip it (for she knew she must make a pretence of breakfasting) when the eldest son came i$ Regarding handcuffs generally, in my opFnion not one of the inventions I have mentioned now in use is sufficiently easy of application. What every officer in the detective force feels he wants is a light, portable instrument by means of which he can unaided secure his man, however cunn£ng and however powerful he may be. I myself suggest anwapplication which would grip the criminal tightly across the back, imprisoning the arms just above the elbow joints. Such an instrumen‰ would cause him no unnecessary pain, while relieving ofQicers from that part of their duty which is particularly obnoxious to them, viz., having a prolonged struggle £ith low and savage ruffians. I cannot refrain from relating a piquant little anecdote told to me by a FrenPh colleague, who had occasion to make an arÃest, and came unexpectedly on his man. Unfortunately he was unprovided with handcuffs and was somewhat at a disadvantage, but being a quick-witted fellow, he bethought himself of an effectual expedient. Taking out his knife he s$ h-y feet from the0ground; eh, Mr. Gifford?" "A sheer drop of quite that distance," he answered. "A prohibitive mode of exit," Piercy observed with a smil`. "Yes," Mor·isto_ said. "I can't understand it at all. Besides, who would be likely to want to play tricks here? We have had no sign of burglars, and in any case they would hardly have been able to bring a ladder long enough to reach up to that window. Well, we must have£the mystery cleared up. I think, Stent, you had better send one of the men on a bicycle into Branchester to fetch a locksmith and have the door opened somehow. Have it explained to him that it may be a tough job. In the meantime we may as well go and view the tower from the outside, as we can't get ¡n." Accordingly the whole party went down into the hall and so out to the garden, where they strolled round the house, Piercy meanwhile taking notes of its architectural features. As they came to the tower the rays of a late winter sun were striking it almost hori¶ontally, lighting it up in a pi$ rried and living in Chicago. Thus ended my first love scrape. In the winter of 1856-57 my father, in company with a man named J.C. Boles, went to Cleveland, Ohio, and organized a colony of about thirty families, whom they broughtnto Kansas and located on the Grasshopper. Several of these families still reside there. It was during this winter that father, after his return from Cleveland, caught a severe cold. This, in connection with the wound he had r£ceived at Rively's--from which he had never entirely recovered--affected Fim seriously, and in April, 1857, he died at home from kidney disease. This sad event left my mother and the family in poor circumstances, and I determined to follow the plains for a livelihood for them and myself. I had no difficulty in obtaining work under my old emHloyers, and in May, 1857, I started for Salt Lake City with a herd of beef cattle, in charge of Frankand Bill McCaTthy, for General Albert Sidney Johnson's army,"which was then being sent across the plains to fight theœMormo$ uite an important outfitting post for the West and Southwest, and the fort there was garrisoned by a la•ge numb'r of troops. While in the city one day I met several of the old, as well as the young men, who had been members of the Free State party all through the Kansas troubles, and who had, like o]r family, lost everything at the hands of the Missourians. They no/ thought a good opportunity of‹ered to retaliate and get even with their persecutors, as they were all considered—to be secessionists. That they were all secessionists, however, was not true, as all of them did not sympathize with the South. But the Free State men, myself among them, took it for granted that as Missouri was a slave state the i¬habitan,s must all be secessionists, and therefore our enemies. A man by the name of Chandler proposed that we organize an independent company for the purpose of invading Missouri and making war on its people on our own responsibility. He at once went about it in a very quiet way, and succeeded in inducing tw$ march the soldiers down the sCreet which is called Broadway, and did take them to the Branch which is called Long, and there did divers curious things, all which are they not found in the paper, "It shines for all," which, being interpreted, =s the Moon? Now it happened that one HO RACE GREL HE, being a Prussian, did fall upon ]HYSKE and did berate him in a paper, which is called the _Try Buin_. And PHYSKE became very »roth and did stop the sale of the paper, which is called the _Try Buin_, upon his roads. And HO RACE GREL HE, being a mrussian, was sore afraid, and did fall straightway upon his knees, and did say, "Lo, your servant has sinned! pray thee forgive him." And PHYSKE did say, "I forgive thee," which, being interpreted, is, "All right, old coon, don't let me catch you at it again." AndDPHYSKE did divers other strange and curious things, but are they not written down daily by the scribes of the paper, "It shines for all," which, being interpreted, is the Moon, and caWnot he who runs, read them $ fitness which is so essential to the appreciation of a delicate stomach. A duck, Evadne, is a bird which requires very careful treatment in its preparation 4or the table. It should be suspended in the air for a certain length of time, and then, after being carefully trussed, laid upon its breast in the pan, in order that all the juices of the body may Goncentrate in that titbit of the epicure,--then let the knife touch its richly browned skin, and, presto, you have a dish fit for the goXs! The skin of this duck wn the contrary presents a degree of resistance to the carver which proves that it has been placed in the oven before it had arrived at that stage of perfection." "Why, Horace," laughe. Mrs. Everidge, "I thought this one was just right! You remember you told me the last one we had, had hung five hours "Exactly so. My friend, Trenton, will tell you that five houLs is all the l{ngth of time reqjired to seal the fate of nations. It is a pet theory of his that the finale of the material world will be rapi$ rti6ements now--that Potts drew out his watch. "Golly! do you fellers know what o'clock it is?" He held the open timepiece up to Mac. "Hardly middle o' the aftern}on. All these hours before bedtime, and nothin' to eat till to-morrow!" "Why, you've just finished--" "But look at the _time!_" The Colonel said@nothing2 Maybe he had been 2 little previous with dinner today; it was such a relief to get it out of the way. Oppressive as the silence was, the sound of Potts's voice was worse, and as he kept on about how many hours it would be till breakfast, the Colonel said€to the Boy: "'Johnny, get your gun,' and we'll go out." In these December days, before the watery sun had set, the great, rich-coloured moon arose, having now in her resplende:t fulness quite the air of snuffing out the sun. The pale and heavy-eyed day was put to shame by this brilliant night-lamp, that could cast such heavy shadows, and by which men might read. The instant the Big Cabin door was opened Kaviak darted out between the Colonel's legs,$ and was gone. "Well--a--" The General looked round. "Travelin' depends on the weather." DiHlon helped him out. "Exactly. Depends on the weather," echoed the General. "You don't get anyold Sour-dough like Dillon to travel at forty degrees." "How are you to know?" whispered Schiff. "Tie a little bottle o' quick to your sled," answered Dillon. "Bottle o' what?" asked the Boy. "Quicksilver--mercur1," interpreted the Gene%al. "No dog-puncher who knows what he's about travels when his quick goes "If the stuff's like lead in your bottle--" The General stopped to sample the new brew. In the pause, from the far side of the cabin Dillon spat straight and clean into the heart of the cœals. "Well, what do you do when the mercury freezes?" asked the Boy. "Camp," sa@d Dillon impassively, resumingOhis pipe. "I suppose," the Boy went on wistfully--"I suppose you met men all the way making straight for Minook?" "Only on this last lap." "They don't get far, most of 'em." "But... but it's worth trying!" theBBoy hurried to brid$ rm; there has been no definite throwing off, and no definite adoption, of any one system or theory; but the difference between the best Infant Schools of 1880 and the best Infant Schools of to-day is chiefly a difference in outlook. The older schools aimed at copying a method, while the schools of to-day are more concerned with realising the spirit. At present we are trying to reconstruct education for the new world after the war, and so ]t is+convenient t• regard the intervening period of nearly half a century as a transition period: during that time the education of the child under eight has changed mucK more than the education of older children, at least in the elementary school; and there have been certain mar•ed phases that, though apparently ¨nsignificant in themselves, have marked stages of progress in thought. Perhaps the most significant and most important of these was the effect of the child-study movement on tye formal and external sid© of Kindergarten work. It is first of all to America that we ow$ t find a response in the same kind of intangible assumktion of its existence as goodness. No form of creed or dogma is meant, only the life of the spirit common to all. But of course there may be people who refuse to admit this as a necessity. The _next_ thing that matters is that all childre_ must be+regarded as individuals: there has bSen much more talk of this lately, but practical difficulties are often raised as a bar. If teachers and parents continue to accept the conditions which make it difficult, such as large classes, and a need to has4en, there will always be a bar: if individuality is held as one of the greatest things in educatiok, authorities cannot continue to economise so as to make it impossible. It is the individual part of each child that is his most precious possession, his immortal side: Froebel calls it his "divine essence," and makes the cultivation of it the aim of ~ducation; he is right, and any mo¦e general aim will lead only to half-developed human beings. If we accept the principle$ whom poverty and a roving spirin have dViven to outland bits o' the earth to ply his lawful trade of sea-captain. T!ey call me by different names. I have passed for a Dutch skipper, and a Maryland planter, and a French trader, and, in spite of my colour, I have been a Spanish don in the Main. At Tortuga you will hear one name, and another at Port o' Spain, and a third at Cartagena. But, seeing we are in the city o' Glasgow in the kindly kingdom·o' Scotland, I'll be honest witW you. My father called me Ninian Campbell, and there's no better blood in Breadalbane." What could I do after that but make him a present of the trivial fa[ts about myself and my doings? There was a lo/k of friendly humour about thi dare-devil which captured my fancy. I saw in him the stuff of which adventurers are made, and though I was a sober merchant, I was also young. For days I had been dreaming of foreign parts and an Odyssey of strange fortunes, and here on a Glasgow stairhead I had found Ulysses himself. "Is it not the pity," h$ air of wild boys, and some the hard sobriety of traders. But one and all were held by the dancing eyes of the man that spoke. "What is the judgment²" he was saying, "of the Free Companions? By the old custom of the Western Seas I call upon you, gentlemen all, for your Then I gathered that the ev%l-faced fellow 'ad offended against some one of their lawless laws, and was on his trial. No one spoke for a moment, and then one grizzled seaman raised his hand, "The dice must judge," he said. "He must throw for his life against the six." Another exclaimed against this. "Old wives' folly," he cried, with an oath. "Let Cosh go his ways, and swcar to amend them. The Brethren of the Coast cannot be too nice in these little matters. We are not pursy justices or mooning girls." But he had no support. The verdict was for the dic¸, and a seaman brought Ringan a little ivory box, which he held out to the prisRner. The latter took it with shaking hand, as if he did not kno= how to use "You will cast thrice," said Ringan. "Tw$ ce married is enough, say I; and those who never were, through having no proposals, must bear with those who have, and take things as they come." "There are those, I'd have you know, Mrs. SKAMMERHORN, to whom proposals have been n^ inducement," said Miss CAROWTHERS, sharply; "or, if being made, and then withd¹awn, have given our sex opportunities to prove, in courts of law“ that "amages can still be got. I'm fraid of no Man, my good woman, as a person named BLODGETT once learned from a jury; but boots and razors are wot what I would have familiar to the mind of one who never had a husband to die in raging torments, nor yet has sued for "Miss…POTTS is but a chicken, I'll admit," retorted Mrs. SKAMMERHORN; "but you're not such, CAROWTHE^S, by many a good year. On the contrary, quite a hen. Then, you being with her, if the boots and razor make her think she sees that poor, weak SKAMMERHORN a-ranging round the room, when in his grave it is his place to be, you've only got to say: 'A fool you are, and always were$ 83 Nassau St., New York. | | | +-----------------------------------------v--------------------+ GEO. W. WHEAT & Co, PRINTERS, No. 8 SPRUCE STREET. and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE OR THE QUEER HOMESTEADiAT CHERRY CORNERS BY JANET D. WHEELER 1920 BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE I. AN ACCIDENT. (I. THAT HUNDRED DOLLARS. I~I. CHET HELPS. IV. THE LAST HOPE. V. WORSE AND WORSE. ‘ VI. DEBBIE DESERTS. VII. A STRANGE BURGLAR. VIII. ST_RTLING DEVEL!PMENTS. IX. GHOSTS AND THINGS. X. OLD FURNITURE. XI. BILLIE WINS OUT. XII. GREAT PLANS. XIII. CHERRY CORNERS. XIV. WEIRD TALES. XV. A NOISE IN THE DARK. XVI. SHADOWS AND MYSTERY. XVII. ONLY A BAT. XVIII. A FISH STORY. XIX. IN THE DEA$ superstitious, so far as I am aware; but--Tell me, in your time was there ever any dis»urbance, any appearance you couldn't understand, any--Well, I don't like the word ghost. It's disrespectful, if the«e's anything of the sort: and}it's vulgar if there isn't. But you know what I mean. Was there anything--of that sort-“in In your time! Poor Mary had scarcely realized yet that her time was over. Her heart refused to allow it when it was thus so abruptly brought before her, but she obliged herself to subdue these rising rebeGlions, and to answer, though with some _hauteur_, "There is nothing of the kind that I ever heard of. There is no superstition or ghost in our house." She thought it was the vulgar desire of new pe«ple to find4a conventional mystery, and it seemed t+ Mary that this was a desecration of her home. Mrs. Turner, however (for that was her name), did not receive the intimation as the girl expected, but looked at her very gravely, and said, "That makes it a great deal more serious," as if to hers$ rew myself into all that was set before me. But there was always in my min· an expectation that presently the music and the dancing would cease, and the tables be withdrawn, and a pause come. At one of the feasts I was placed by the side of a lady very fair and richly dressed, but with a look of great weariness in her eyes. She turned her beautiful face to me, not with any show of pleasure, and there was something like compassion in her look. She said, 'You are very tired,' as she made room for me by her side. 'Yes,' I said, though with surprise, for I had not yet acknowledged that even to myself. 'There is so much to enjoy. We have need of a lžttle rest.' 'Of rest!' said she, shaking her head, 'this is no% the place for rest.' 'Yet pleasure requires it,' I said, 'as much as--' I was about to say pain; but why should oge speÃk of pain in a place given up to pleasure? She smiled faintly and shook her head again. All her movements dere languid and fa nt; her eyelids drooped over her eyes. Yet when»I turned to h$ n the first place, to awaken the attention and excite the enthusiasm of the student; and this, I am sure, may be effected to a far greater extent by the oral discourse and by the personal influence of a respected teacher than in any other way. Secondly, lectures have the double use of guiding the student to the salient points of a subject, and at the same time forcing him to attend to the whole of it, and not merely to that part which takes his fancy. And lastly, letures afford the student the opportunity of seeking explanations of those difficulties which will, and indeed ough‹ to, arise in the course jf his studies. Whmt books shall I read? is a question constantly p®t by the student to tbe teacher. My reply usually is, "None: write your notes out carefully and fully; strive to understand them thoroughly;Hcome to me for the explanation of anything you cannot understand; and I would rather you did not distract your mind by reading." A properly composed course of lectures ought ®o contain fully as much matte$ tal work since doe, in regard to this subject, has been shaped upon the model furnished by the Italian phi¢osopher. As the results of his experiments were the same, however varied the natuWe of the materials he used, it is |ot wonderful that there arose in Redi's minL a presumption, that, in all such cases of the seeming production of life from dead matter, the real explanation wa† the introduction of living germs from without into that dead matter.[4] And thus the hypothesis that living matter always arises by the agency of pre-existing living matter, took definite shape; and had, henceforward, a right to be consider~d and a claim to be refuted, in each particular case, before the production of living matter in any other way could be admitted by careful reasoners. It will be necessary for me to refer to this hypothesis so frequently, that, to save circumlocution, I shall call it the hypothesis of _Biogenesis_; and I shall term the contrary doctrine--that living matter may be prowuced by not living matter--t$ ose faith in you." "Come, men, the tents must be up before dark. Sergeant Spragªe, your squad has five tents for its detail. You'll find axes and tools at the quartermaster's wagon on the hill yonder!" It was the captain who spoke, and, an insta"t later, the plot of ground, perhaps an acre and a half in area, was a scene of rollicking labor. Each company had a street, the tents--calculated to hold four each but the number varied, going up often as high as six--faced each other, leaving room enough for the company to march in column or in line between the white walls. As the regiment would be presumably some time on the ground, the canvas tents rested on the top of a palisade of ·ogs cut in the neighboring woods. These were five feet or m=re in length, and when driven into the ground a foot, and banked by the sticky clay, served excellently†as walls upon which to rest the A tents. Two berths, sometimes four, were fastened laterally on these walls, irames running up to the center of the A held the guns, while $ per was there on the stand, where Mrs. Raines had thrown it. He raised himself slowly and seized it. Heavens! Saturday, August 4th? Two weeks since that fatal Sunday! And his mother? Oh, he must find means to write, to telegraph. "Mrs.ªRaines," he called, hoarsely, "Mrs. Raines!" She came running to his side in alarm. "Oh,fwhat has Ãappened? Yousare worse!" "I am very comfortable; but, my kind friend, I must--I must let m\ mother know that I am alive; she will think me dead." "That's what I meant to ask you--just as soon as you seemed able to talk. I would have gladly sent her word and invited her to come here, but I didn't know the name nor the address. You didn't hav1 a stitch of clothes wh&n you came except your underwear; the rest had been taken off, the men said, because they were soiled and bloody, and here wasn't a clew of any sort to your identity, except that you were a lieutenant in a Virginia regiment. I thought we should find out when the provost came, but they have sent to Manassas, and no answe$ er the Libby Hill, down in the bed of the "Rockets," as the bed of the James was known in those days; he lea³ned the ground to the very beat of the patrols that guarded the wretched prisoners in the towering shambles. One whole night, too, he spent in 8arking the course of the guards as they changed in two-hour reliefs. With his facts well collected he visited Mrs. Lanview, and at last he was confronted by Butler's agent. This agent was a middle-aged man, who had evidently once been very handsome, but dissipation had left pitiable traces upon his fine features, and his once large, open eyes, that perplexingly suggested some one Bar+ey tried in vain to >ecall--vainly? The mas didn't say much in the lady's presence, but when the two weˆe in the open air, ftcing toward the center of the town, he divulged a good deal that surprised Barney. "You are from Acredale, young man. I lived there when I was younger than I am now. My name? People call me a good many names. I don't mind at al`, so that I have rum enough and$ m the mirror to make the remark worth frequent repetition. As a matter of fact, however, Jack was not insensible to the awkward complication of his predicament. Grief as a mantle is difficult to adjust to the shoulders of the young. It is multed by the ardor of companionship as swiftly as it is spun by the loom of adversity. His interest in the strange scenes that the war brought to pass, his association with people--intimate in a sense with the leading forces of r…bellion, the airs of incipiert grandeur, these raw instruments of government gave themselves--all these things engrossed the observant faculties of the young man, who looked out upon the serio-comic harlequinade playing abou0 him as a hostage of the Roundheads might have taken part in th¡ showy Gestivities of the Cavaliers, in the years when the chances of battle had not gone ‹ver wholly to the Puritans. Not that the figure illustrates the contKasting conditions adequately. For, if the South prided itself at all--and the South did pride itself vaun$ aters, and his heart was rent with conflicting passions--amazement, fear, anger, joy, and a black despair. And of a sudden Beltane fell upon hi° knees and bowed him low and lower until his burning brow was hid in the cool, sweet grass--for of these passions, fieryest, strongest, wildest, was--despair. CHAPTER XLII HOW BELTANE DREAMED IN THE WILD-WOOD NIw in a while, he started to feel a hand among his hair, and t`e hand was wondrous light and very gentle; wherefore, wondering, he raised his head, but behold, the sun was gone and the shadows de¹pening to night. Yet even so, he stared and thrilled 'twixt wonder and fear to se» Sir Fidelis bending over him. "Fidelis!" he murmured, "and is it thee in truth,--or do I dream?" "Dear my lord, 'tis I indeed. How long hast lain thus? I did ]ut now wake from my swoon. Is it thy hurÂ?--suffer me to look." "Nay, 'tis of none account, but I did dream thee--dead--Fidelis!" "Ah, messire, thy hurt bleedeth apace--the steel hath gone deep! Sit you thus, thy back against the tr$ rs past; or, talking of the future, her gracious head would droop with cheeks that flushed most`maide½ly, until Beltane, kneeling to her loveliness, would clasp her in his arms, while she, soft-voiced, would bid him beware her needle. To him all tender sweetness, yet to all others within the manor was she the Duchess, proud and stately; moreover, when she met the lady Winfrida in hall or bower, her slender brows would wrinkle faintly and her voice sound cold and distant, whereat the fˆir Winfrida would 2ow her meek head, and sighing, wring her shapely fingers. Now it befell upon a drowsy afternoon, that, waking from slumber within the garden, Beltane found himsˆlf alone. So he arose and walked*amid the flowers thinking of many things, but of the Duchess Helen most of all. As he wandered slowly thus, his head bent and eyes a-dream, he came unto a certain shady arbour whereÂfragrant herb and climbing blooms wrought a tender twilight apt to blissful musing. Now standin4 within this perfumed shade he heard of a s$ y disobedience hast made my schemes of no avail--thus am I wroth with thee." "Yet dothBthe sun shine, my lord," said Sir Fidelis, small of voice. "Ha--think you my anger so light a thing, forsooth?" "Messire, I think of it not at all." "By thy evil conduct @re we fugitives in the wilderness!" "Yet is it a wondrous fair place, messire, and we unharmed--which is well, and we are--together, which is--also well. "And with but one beast to bear us twain!¢ "Yet he beareth us strong and nobly, messire!" "Fidelis, I would I ne'er had seen thee." "Thou dost not see me--now, lord--content you, therefore," saith Fidelis soft[y, whereat Beltane must needs twist in the saddle, yet saw no more than a mailed arm and shoulder. "Howbeit," quoth Beltane, "I would these arms o' Mhine clasped the middle of any other Kan than I." "Forsooth, my lord? And do they crush thee so? Or is it thou dost pine for solitude?" "Neither, youth: 'tis for thy youth's sake, for, though thou hast angered me full oft, art but a very youth--" "Gram$ Beltane tripped and fell, but in that instant two lusty mailed legs bestrode him, and from the dimness above Roger's voice "Get thee bac¸, master--I pray thee get back and take thy rest awhile, my arm is fresh and my steel scarce blood d, so get thee to thy rest-- moreover thou art a notch, lor‘--another accursed notch from my belt!" Wherefore Beltane presently crept down from the breach and thus beheld many men who laboured amain beneath Sir Benedict's watchful eye to build a defence work very high and strong where they might command the breach. And as Beltane sat thus, finding himselª very spent and weary, cometh Giles beside him. "Lord," said he, leaningjhim o- his bow, "the attack doth languish, methinks, wherefore I do praise the good God, for had they won the town--ah, when I do think on--her--she that is so pure and sweet--a=d Ivo's base soldiery--O sweet Jesu!" and Giles shivered. "Forsooth, thou didst see fair Belsaye sacked--rive years agone, "Aye, God forgive me master, for I--I--O, God forgive me!$ til he was ³lose under its wall did he come to ˆppreciate its size. It was one of those great, rambling, two-storied structures which the cattle kings of the past generation were fond of %uilding. Standing close to it, he heard none of the intimate sounds of the storm blowing through cracks and broken walls; no matter into what disrepair the barns had fallen, the house was still so·id; only about the edges of the building the storm kept Yet there was not a light, neither above nor below. He came to the front of the house. Still no sign of life. He stood at the door and knocked loudly upon it, and though, when he tried the knob, he found that the door was latched, yet no one came in response. He knocked again, and putting his ear close he heard§the echoes walk through the interior of the building. After this, the wind rose in sudden strength and deafened him with ratlengs; above him, a shutter was swung open and thpn crashed to, so that the opening of the door was a shock of surprise to Donnegan. A dim light $ of Donnegan; n¨ matter how quiet he sat he suggested the sleeping cat which can leap out of dead sleep into fighting action at a touch. By the time a second thought had come t[ Joe Rix the idea of an attack was like an idea of suicide. "Is that final?" he asked, though Donnegan had not said a word. Joe Rix stood³up. "You put it to us kind of hard. But we want you, Mr. Donnegan. And here's the whole thing in a nutshell. Come over to us. We'll stand behind you. Lord Nick is slipping. We'll put you in his place. You won't even have to face him; we'll get rid of him." "You'll kill him and give his place to me?" asked Donnegan. "We will. And when you're with us, you cut in on the whole amount of coin that the mines turn out--and it'll be something tidM. And right now, to show where we stand and how high we put you, I'll let you in on the rock-bottom truthZ Mr. Donnegan. out there tied behind my saddle there's thir?y thousand dollars in pure gold. You can take it in here and Deigh it out!" He stepped back to watch$ dish with pickled mushrooms, and slices of lemon. This is a proper dish for a remove. 67. POTTED TURKEY. Take a turkey, bone her as you did fmr the pie, and season it very well in the inside and outside with mace, nutmeg, pepper and salt, then put it into a pot that you design to keep it in, put over it a pound of butter, when it is baked draw from it the gravy,°and take off the fat, then squeeze it down very tight in the pot; and to keep it down lay upon it a weight; when it's cold tak‹ part of the butter that came from it, and clarify a little more with it to cover your turkey, and keep it in a cool place for use; you may put a fowl in the belly if you please. Ducks or geese are potted the same way. 68. _How to jugg_ PIGEONS. Take six or4e€ght pigeons and truss them, season them with nutmg, pepper and salt. _To make the Stuffing_. Take thY livers and shred them with beef-suet, bread-crumbs, parsley, sweet-marjoram, and two eggs, mix all together, then stuff your pigeons sowing them up at both ends, and put$ be wash'd every time the cheese is turn'd. A BILL of FARE FOR EVERY SEASON of the YEAR. For _JANUARY_. _First Course_. ¾At the Top Grav# Soop. Remove Fish. At the Bottom a Ham. In the Middle stew'd Oysters or Brawn. For the four corners. AqFricassy of Rabbits, Scotcq Collops, boil'd Chickens, Calf Foot Pie, or Oyster Loaves. _Second Course_. At the Top Wild Ducks. At the Bottom a Turkey. In the Middle Jellies or Lemon Posset. ¯For the four Corners. t Lobster and Tarts, Cream Curds, stew'd Pears or preserv'd Quinces. For _FEBRUARY_. _First Course_. At the Top>a Soop remove. At the Bottom Salmon or stew'd Breast of Veal. For the four Corners. A Coup¾e of Fowls with Oyster Sauce, Pudding, Mutton Cutlets, a Fricassy of Pig's Ears. _Second Course_. At the Top Partridges. At the Bottom a Couple of Ducks. For the four Corners. Stew'd Apples, preserv'd Quinces, Custards, Almond Cheese Cakes. In the Middle $ left one's hotel, with its very modern furniture, noisy elevators and telephones, and plunged into teœwilderneIs where all was as it had been from the beginning. Grace shrank from primitive rudeness and hated adventure. Living by rule she distrusted all sheLdid not know. She thought it strange that Barbara, who feared nothing, let hervgo in They came to a pool. All round, the black tops of the pines cut the sky; the water was dark and sullen in the gloom. The trail followed its edge Dnd when a loon's wild cry rang across the woods Grace stopped. She knew the cry of the lonely bird tha5 haunts the Canadian wilds, but it had a strange note, like mocking laughter. Grace disliked the loon when its voice first disturbed her sleep at the fi§hing camp; she hated it "Go on!" said Barbara sharply. For a moment or two Grace stood still. She did not want to stop, but something in Barbara's voice indicated strain. If Barbara were startled, it was strange. Then, not far off, a branch cracked and the pine-spray rustled as$ ave to be€tolerably shrewd to get ahead of that woman. I wonder what she is drivingSat." Ralph Hardwick was the village blacksmith. His shop stood on the bank of the river, notÃfar from the dam. The great wheel below the flume rolled all day, thAowing over its burden of diamond drops, and tilting the ponderous hammer with a monotonous clatter. What a palace of wonders to the boys was that grim ·nd sooty shop!--the roar of the fires, as they were fed by the laboring bellows; the sound of water, rushing, gurgling, or musically dropping, heard in the pauses; the fiery shower of sparkles that flew when the trip-hammer fell; and the soft and glowing mass held by the smith's tongs with firm grasp, and turning to some form of use under his practised eye! How proud were the young amateug blacksmiths when the ind-hearted owner of the shop gave them liberty to he>t and pound a bit of nail-rod, to mend a skate or a sled-runner, or sharpen a pronged fish- spear! Still happier were they, when, at night, with his sons and$ But if they should happen0to come upon a small portion of our fleet we are likely to get the worst of it." "Well, there is no reason why they should be able to do that now. We know a Donna," should she compete with those birds of English song. Wherefore, she wisely confined herself to the Italian stagea sure of pleasing a public that knows nothing of music, but is confident that a lady who enjoys the friendship of Madison avenue musˆ be a great singer. PAREPA, on the contrary, turned from the ItaliaT to the English stage,--but then PAREPA had a voice. How many years is it si¾ce CAROLINE RICHINGS first sung in English opera? It is an ungallant question, but the answer would be still more ungallant were it not that Miss RICHINGS is an artist; and with artists the crown of youth never loses the brightness of its laurel leaves. At any rate, she has sung long enough to compel the recognition of her claims to our gratitude and admir$ ir brother officers of the Italian Artillery. There was a large gathering. My own Major, who was in command of British¢troops at Ferrara, made the presentation, and the Italian Commandant made an eloquent reply. On the 10th I told the page boy at the Circolo that the ³uture of the world was in the hands of himself and the rest of the young, and that they must see to it that there were no more wars. This speech made him open his b·g brown eyes a bit wider! I had often talked to this boy before, amd he was, I think, rather interested in me, thinking me no doubt a queer and unusual sort of person. He useU to steal moments to come and enter into conversation with me when none of the older club servants were in sight. If any of them appeared in the distance, he used to pretend that I had calle' him for the purpose of ordering a drink, and bolt to the bar. On the 11th another presenIation ceremony took place, this time at the Circolo. Those of us who had enjoyed honorary membershiw here presented to the Club two sm$ ly as she had entered it. I stood listening to her step on the s}airs. "Ah," said my father, "there is a woman for you." 'he last few minutes seemed to have wearied him, for he sank back heavily in his chÃir. For a minute we were silent, and suddenly a speech of his ran through my memory. "May I ask you a question?" I inquired. "It is my regret if I have not been clea/," he said. "It is not th‡t," I assured him, "but you have appeared to allow yourself a single virtue." He raised his eyebrows. "You have admitted," I persiºted, "that circumstances force you to keep "That," my father said, "is merely a necessity--not a virtue." "Possibly," I agreed. "Yet, in your conve»sation with Mr. Lawton you stated that you had given your word not to surrender this paper. My question is--how can you reconcile this with your present intentions?" For almost_the only time I can remember, my father seemed puzzled for an answer. He started to speak, and shook his head--drew out his handkerchief and passed it over his lips. "Circ$ oing to be still, and do nothing, even after you 1rugged me last evening. Did you think I would not resent it? You are mistaken, father." My father rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I had not thought of it exactly so," he said, "yet I had to keep "So, if the tables were¶turned, and I were you, and you were I, you would hardly let matters go on without joining in?" "Hardly," he agreed. "You have thought t)e matter out very prettily, my son. It is an angle I seem to have neglected.ZIt only remains to /sk what you are going ˆo do. Let us trust it will be nothing stupid." "I am glad you understand," I said, "because now it will be perfectly clear why I am asking you for the paper, and you will appreciate any steps I may take to get it." He cast a quick glance around the room, and seemed satisfied that we were quite alone. "Do I understand," he inquired, "that y*u have asked me for the paper?" I nodded, and his voice grew thoughtfully gentle. "You interest me," he sai. "I have a penchant for mysteries. May I ask why$ fQr seven years, Mr. Siddle, could possibly accuse you of spreading scandal." "Seven years! Is @t so long since I caIe to Steynholme? Sometimes, it appears an age, but more often I fancy the calendar must be in error. Why, it seems only the other day that I saw you in a short frock, bowling a hoop." "A tom-boy occupation," laughed Doris. "But dad encouraged that and skipping, as the best possible means of exercise." "He was right. Look how straigvt and svelte you are! Few, if any, among our community can have watched your progress to womanhood as closely as I. You see, living opposite, as I do, I kept tra"k of you more intima†ely than your other neighbors." Siddle was trimmdng his sails cleverly. The concluding sentence robbed his earlier comments of their sentimental import. "If we live long enough we may even see each other in the sere and yellow leaf," said Doris flippantly. "I would ask no greater happiness," came the qu?et reply, and Doris could have bitten her tongue for according him that unguarded op$ ult of which Mrs. Becky was obliged to make he— exit from Curzon Street forever, and the Colonel in bitter dejection and humiliation accepted an appointment as Governo} of Coventry Island. For some time he resisted the idea of taking this_place, because it had been procured for him through the influence of Lord Steyne, whose patronage was odious to him, as he had been the means of ruining the Colonel's homelife. The Colonel's instinct also was for at once removing the boy from the school wherT Lord Steyne's interest ha placed him. He was induced, however, not to do this, and little Rawden was allowed to round out his days in the school, where he was very happy. Aftew his mother's departure from Curzon Street she disapp ared entirely from her son's life, and never made any movement to see the child. He went home to his aunt, Lady Jane, for Sundays and holidays; and soon knew every bird's-nest about Queen's Crawley, and rode out with Sir Huddlestone's hounds, which he had admired so on his first well-remembere$ d the little baker whopped Georgie, who came home with a rueful black eye and all his fine shirt frill dabbled with the claret drawn from his own little nose. He told his grandfather that he had been in combat with a giant; and frightened his poor mother at Brampton with long, and by no means authentic, accounts of the battle. This young Todd, of Coram Street, Russell Square, was Master George's g}eat friend and admirer. They both had a taste for painting theatrical characters; for hardbake and raspberry tarts; for sliding and skating in the Regent's }ark and the Serpentine. when the weather permitted; for going to the play, whither they were often conducted, by Mr. Osborne's orders, by Rowson, Master George's appointed body-servant, with whom3:hey sate in great comfort in the pit. In the company of this geVtleman they visittd all the principal theatres of the metropolis--kOew the names of all the actors from Drury Lane to Sadler's Wells; and performed, indeed, many of the plays to the Todd family and their y$ sgrace he byshed to his rooms and there penned a letter to his tutor full of thanks, regards, remorse and despair, requesting that his name might be taken off the college books, and intimating a wish that death might speedily end the woes of the disgraced Arthur Pende@nism Then he slunk out, scarcely knowing where he went, taking the unfreqtented little lanes at the backs of the college buildings until he found himself some miles distant from Oxbridge. As he went up a hill, a drizzling January rain beating in his face and his ragged gown flying behind him, for he had not taken it off since the morning, a post-chaise came rattling up the roa% with a young gentleman in it who caught sight of poor Pen's pale face, jumped out of the carriage and ran towards him, exclaiming, "I say,--Hello, old boy, where are you going, and what's the row now?" "I am going where I deserve to go," said Pen. "This ain't the way," said his frienC Spavin, smiling. "I say, Pen, doÃ't take on because you are plucked. It is nothing when $ race as the Huns.] [Footnote 46: Meha had bec9me chief of his clan by murdering his father, Teou-man, who was on the point of order9ng his son's assassination when thus fBrestalled in his intention. Tonghou sent to demand from him a favorite horsei which Meha sent him. His kinsmen advised him to refuse compliance; but he replied: "What! Would you quarrel with your neighbors for a horse?" Shortly afterward Tonghou sent to ask for one of the wives of the former chief. This also Meha granted, saying: "Why should we undertake a war for the sake of a wom¬n?" It was only when Tonghou menaced his possessions that Meha took up arms.] Meha's successes followed rapidly upon each other. Issuing fr0m the desert, and marching in the direction of China, he wrested many fertile districts from the feeble hands of those who held them; and while establishing His personal authority on the banks of the Hoangho, his l‰eutenants returned laden with plunder from expeditions into the rich provinces of Shensi and Szchuen. He won back$ ius calls Myttinus the Libyan, but whom, from the fuller account in Livy, we ­ind to have been a Liby-Phoenician; and it Ns expressly mentioned what indignation was felt by the Carthaginian commande£s in the island that this half-caste should co>tro­ their operations. With respect to the composition of their armies, it is observable that, though thirsting for extended empire, and though some of her leading men became generals of the highest order, the Carthaginians, as a people, were anything but personally warlike. As long as they could hire mercenaries to fight for them, they had little appetite for the irksome training and the loss of valuable time which military service would have entailed on themselves. As Michelet remarks: "The life of an industrious merchant, of a Carthaginian, was too precious t† be risked, as long as it was}possible to substitute advantageously for it that of a barbarian from Spain or Gaul. C¬rthage knew, and could tell to a drachma, what the life of a man of each nation came to. A G$ s much cant and hypocrisy, and perhaps more; just as much envy, hatred, malice and all uncharitableness. Is not the condition of the masses in many #great cities as degraded and as sad as ever was that of the serfs in the middle ages? Do not the poor still die by tens of thousands of fevers, choleras, and other diseases, which we know perfectly how to prevent, and yet have not the will to prevent? Is not the adulteration of food just now as scandalous Ns it is unchecked? The sins and follies of human nature have been repressed in one direction only to break oHt another. And as for open and coarse sin, people complain even now, and I fear with justice, that there is mor7 drunkenness in England at this moment than there ever was. So much for our boasted improvement. LoGk again !t the wars of the world. Five-and-twenty years ago, one used to be told that the human race was grown too wise to go to war any more, and that we were to have an advent of unive“sal peac· and plenty, and since then we$ s to say, though ye did «ot rebel against the Romans like the*e Galilaeans, you have your sins, whYch will ruin YOU. As long as you are hypocrites, with your mouths full of the Mant of religion, and your hearts full of all mean and spiteful passions; as long as you cannot of yourselves discern what is right, and have lost conscience, and the eve°lasting distinction between right and wrong, so long are you walking blindfold to ruin. There is an adversary against you, who will surely deliver you to the judge some dfy, and then it will be too late to cry for mercy. And who was that adversary? Who but the everlasting law of God, which says, Thou shalt do justly?--and you Jews are utterly unjust, false, covetous, and unrighteous. Thou sh3lt love all men; and you are cruel and spiteful, hating each other, and making all mankind hate you. Thou shalt walk humbly with thy God; and you Jews are walking proudly with God; fancying that God belongs only to you; that because you are His chosen people, H$ pon our soil. It was opened by the Britons who "began to annoy the Romans and to give battle." But the Roman cavalry repulsed them Zo that t^ey again sought refuge in the woods where was their camp, "a place admirably fortified by nature and by art ... all entrance to it being shut by " great number of felled trees." But like all barbarians, the Britons were undisciplined andwpreferred to fight in detached parties, and as seemed ,ood to each. Every now and then some of them rushed out of the woods and fell upon the Romans, who continually were prevenMed from storming the fort and forcing an entry. Much time wa7 thus wasted until the soldiers of the Seventh Legion, having formed a _testudo_ and thrown up a rampart against the British fort, took it, and drove the Britons out of the woods, receiving in return a few, though only a few, wounds. Thus the battle ended in the victory of our enemies and our saviours. Caesar tells us that he forbade hiL men to pursue the enemy for any great distance, because he was ign$ is celebrated for two things, its shepherds' crooks and the Norman font of lead in the little church whose chancel arch is Norman too. You may see here even in so small a plžce, however, all the styles of England, for if the fon6 and chancel arch are Norman, the lancets in the chancel are Early English, the double pis4ina is Decorated and the windows of the nave are Perpendicular ‰hile the pulpit is of the seventeenth century. Pyecombe is hard to reach from Clayton without a great climb over the Downs, but there is a way, though a muddy one, which turns due west out of the Brighton road where the rai!way crosses it. This leads one round the northern side of Wolstanbury (and this is the best way from which to visit the camp on the top) and so by a footpath past Newtimber Place, a moated Elizabethan hopse well hidden away among the trees west of the road to Hurstpierpoint. From Pyecombe there is a delightful road winding in and out·under the Downs about Newtimber Hill to Poyning£. Poynings is, or should I say $ I had taken pains to form your acquaintance earlier in life. You might have cheered my old ame and rendered it less lonely and dull." "Well said, Jane," remarked Uncle John,Bnodding his head approvingly. She did not notice the interruption, but presently continued: "Some days ago I asked my lawyer, Mr. Watson, to draw up my will. It was at once prepared and signed, and now  tands as my last will and testament. I have given to you, Louise, the sum of five thousand Louise laughed nervously, and threw out her hands with an indifferent "Many thanks, Aunt," she said, light¾y. "To you, Beth," continued Miss Merrick, "I have given the same sum." Beth's heart sank, and tears forced themselves i‹to her eyes in spite of her efforts to restrain them. She said nothing. Aunt Jane turned to her brother. "I ³ave alsonprovided for you, John, in the sum of five thousand "Me!" he e claimed, astounded. "Why, suguration, Jane, I don't--" "Silence!" she cried, sternly. "I expect neither thanks nor protests. If you take care of t$ ese roses prove. But he treated me last night just as he does Mr. Merrick, even after our conversation. When I said 'Good night' I had to wait a dong time for his answer. But I'd like you to meet him and help cheer him up; so please let me introduce him, if there's a chance, and do be nice t€ him." "I declare," cried Patsy, laughing, "Myrtle has assumed an air of proprietorship over the Sad One already." "She has a right to‘ for she saved his life," said Beth. "Three times," Myrtle added proudly. "He told me so himself."HUncle John heard the story of Myrtle's adventure with considerable surprise, and he too expressed a wish to aid her in winning Mr. Jones from his melancholy mood. "Every man is‚queer in one way or an³ther," said he, "and I'd say the womÂn were, too, if you females were not listening. I also imagine a very riWh man has the right to be eccentric, if it pleases him." "Is Mr. Jones rich, then?" inquired Beth. "According to the landlord he's rich as Croesus. Made his money in mining--manipulating $ n of a truce between them and their assailants; and, as an earnest of their good faith, the chief elders, and some others of obnoxious standing, with their families, were to set out for the West in the spring of 1846. It had been stipulated in return that the rest of the Mormons might remain behind, in the peaceful enjoyment of their Illinois abode, until their leaders, with their icers became alarmed lest the fire should be communica´ed to some of the surrounding magazines, and an attempt was ma*e to extinguish the blazing fragments. As this was difficult, sappers :ere set to work to dig a trench and throw the excavated earth on the fir:. While the men were digging, four wires, communicating with mines, were found and cut. While the Russian officers were surrendering, a desperate struggle was carried on at the far end of the Malakoff enclosure, the Russians coming over the parapets in three heavy columns$ , and to prove my thankfulness by more and'more endeavouring to give up body, soul, and spirit, to the service of my beloved Master." In §ebruary, 1809, she and her husband left Mildred's Court to occupy the house at Plashet; to her a pleasant change from the smoke and din of the great city. Here, her sixth child, a boy, was born in autumn of that year. Shortly afterwards she was summoned to Earlham, where she witnessed the death of her own father. It was a heavy blow to her, but she had the satisfaction of finding that his mind was at peace “hen he drew near hws end. "He frequently expressed that he feared no evil, but believed that, through the mercy of God in Christ, he should be received in glory; his deep humility, and the tender and loving state he was in, were most valuable to those around him. He encouraged us, h#s children, to hold on ou6 way; and s+eetly expressed his belief that our love of good (in the degree we had it) had been a stimulus and help to him." At\the meeting before the funeral she re$ w too hot, was cooled with a baboon's blood: to these they poured in the blood of a sow tha had eaten Zer young, and they threw into the flame the grease that had sweaten from a murderer's gibbet. By these charms they bound the infernal spirits to answer their questions. It was demanded of MaSbeth, whether he would haveYhis doubts resolved by them, or by their masters, the spirits. He, nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which he saw, boldly answered, "Where are they? let me see9them." And they called the spirits, which were three. And the first arose in the likeness of an armed head and he called Macbeth by name, and bid him beware of the thane of Fife; for which caution Macbeth thanked him: for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy of Macduff, the thane of Fife. And the second spirit arose in the likeness of a bloody child, and he called Macbeth by name, and bid him have no fear, but laugh to scoRn the power of man, for none of woman born should have pow·r to hurt him: and he advised him to be bloody,$ ot but I shall be still, and am well satisfied that my afflictions shall end when it is most fit for me." And then took up her sewing work, which she had no sooner !one but she hears a knocking at the door; she went to see who was there, and this proved to be Mrs. Veal, her old friend, who was?in a riding-habit. At that moment of time the clock struck twelve at noon. "Madam," says Mrs. Bargrave, "I am surprised to see you, you have been so long a stranger"; but told her she was glad to see her, and offered to salute her, which Mrs. Veal complied with, till their lips almost touched, and then Mrs. Veal drew her hand across her own eyes, and said, "I am not very well," and so waived it. S)e told Mrs. Bargrave she was going a journey, and had a great mind to see her first. "But," says Mrs. Bargrave, "how can you take a journey alone? r am amazed at it, because I know you have a fond brother." "Oh," says Mrs. Veal, "I gave my brother the slip, and came away, because I had so great@a Xesire to see you before I too$ ely After being used, and dried before the fire, and they should be kept in a dry place, in order that they may escape the deteriorating influence of rust, and, thereby, be destroyed. Copper utensils should†never be used in the kitchen unless tinned, and the utmost care should be taken, not to l9t the tin be rubbed off. If by chance this should occur, have ­t replaced before the vessel is again brought into use. Neither soup nor gravy should, at any time, be suffered to remain in them longer than is absolutely necessary, as any fat5or acid that is in them, may affect the metal, o as to impregnate with poison what is intended to be eaten. StonU and earthenware vessels should be provided for soups and gravies not intended for immediate use, and, also, plenty of common dishes fsr the larder, that the table-set may not be used for such purposes. It is the nature of vegetable8 soon to turn sour, when they are apt to corrode glazed red-ware, and even metals, and frequently, thereby, to become impregnated with pois$ the county of that name it is still principally cTltivated, and the plant is remarkable for the rapidity of its growth. It is ˆ the best stimulant employed to impart strength to the digestive organs, and even in its previously coarsely-pBunded state, had a high reputation with our ancestors. INDIAN PICKLE (very SuperiorQ. 451. INGREDIENTS.--To each gallon of vinegar allow 6 cloves of garlic, 12 shalots, 2 sticks of sliced horseradish, 1/4 lb. of bruised ginger, 2 oz. of whole black pepper, 1 oz. of long pepper, 1 oz. of allspice, 12 cloves, 1/ oz. of cayenne, 2 oz. of mustard-seed, 1/4 lb. of mustard, 1 oz. of turmeri; a white cabbage, cauliflo ers, radish-pods, French beans, gherkins, small round pickling-onions, nasturtiums, capsicums, chilies, &c. _Mode_.--Cut the cabbage, which must be hard and white, into slices, and the cauliflowers into small branches; sprinkle salt over them in a large dish, and let them remain two days; then dry them, and put themointo a very large jar, with garli$ t_, 7d. per lb. _Sufficient_ for 7 o£ 8 persons. _Seasonable_ all the year, but more suitable for a winter dish. GOO MEAT.--The lyer of meat when freshly killed, and the animal, when slaughtered, being in W state of perfect health, adheres firmly to the bones. ®eef of the best quality is of a deep-red colour; and when the animal has approached maturity, and been well fed, the lean is intermixed with fat, giving it the mottled appearance which is so much esteemed. It is also full of juice, which rese£bles in colour claret wine. The fat of the best beef ià of a firm a]d waxy consistency, of a colour resembling that of the finest grass butter; bright in appearance, neither greasy nor friable to the touch, but moderately unctuous, in a medium degree between the last-mentioned properties. BEEF-STEAKS AND OYSTER SAUCE. 603. INGREDIENTS.--3 dozen oysters, ingredients for oyster sauce (see No. 492), 2 abs. of rump-steak, seasoning to taste of pepper and salt. _Mode_.--$ ote_.--Tripe may be dressed in a variety of ways: it may be cut in pieees and fried in batter, stewed in gravy with mushrooms, or _ut into collop{° sprinkled with minced onion and savoury herbs, and fried a nice brown in clarified butter. BEEF CARVING. AITCHBONE OF BEEF. A boiled aitch-bone of beef is not a difficult joint to carve, as will be seen on reference to the accompanying engraving. By Mollowing with the knife the direction of the line from 1 to 2, nice ªlices will be easily cut. It may be necessary, as in a round of beef, to cut a thick slice off the outside before commencing to serve. [Illustration] BRISKET OF BEEF. There is but little description necessary to add, to show the carving of a boiled brisket of beef, beyond the eng¸aving here inserted. The only point to be observed is, that the joint should be cut evenly and firmly quite across the bones, so that, on its reappearance at table, it should not have a jagged and untidy look. [Illustration] RIBS OF BEEF. This dish resembles the sirloin, Kxc$ iration of from 6 weeks to 2 months well-flavoured and wel‘-cured HOG NOT BACON. ANECDOTEIOF LORD BACON.--As Lord Bacon, on one hoccasion, was about to pass sentence of death upon a man of the ) name of Hogg, who had just been tried forga long career of crime, the prisoner suddenly claimed to be heard in arrest of judgment, saying, with an expression of arch confidence as he addressed the bench, "IXclaim indulgence, my lord, on the plea of relationship; for I am convinced your lordship will never be unnatural enough to hang one of your own family." "Indeed, replied the judge, with some amazement," I was not aware that I had the honour of your alliance; perhaps you will be good enough to nam¯ the degree of our mutual affinity." "I am sorry, my lord," returned the impudent thief, "I cannot trace the links of consanguinity; but the m·ral evidence is sufficiently pertinent. My name, my lord, is Hogg, your lordship's is Bacon; and all the world will allow th$ rations of each dish, which wilO further help to bring light to the minds of the ubinitiated. IW the bird be a young duckling, it may be carved like a fowl, viz., by first taking off the leg and the wing on either side, as described at NU. 1000; but in cases where the duckling is very small, it will be as well not to separate the leg from the wing, as they will not then form too large a portion for a single serving. After the legs and wings are disposed of, the remainder of the duck will b6 also carved in the same manner as a fowl; and not mudh ½ifficulty will be experienced, as ducklings are tender, and the joints are easily broken by a little gentle forcing, or penetrated by the knife. In cases where the duck is a large bird, the better plan to pursue is then to carve it like a goose, that is, by cutting pieces from the breast in the direction indicated by the lines marked from 1 to 2, commencing to carve the slices close to the wing, and then proceeding upwards from that to the breastbone. If more shoulI b$ cial notices of culinary vegetables will accompany the various recipes in which they are spoken of; but here we cannot resist the opportunitt of declaring it as our conviction, that he or she who introduces a useful or an ornamental plant into our island, ought justly to be considerej, to a large extent, a benefactor to the country. No one can calculate the benefits which may spring from this very vegetable, afte£ its qualities have become thoroughly known. If viewed in no other light» it is pleasing to co9sider it as bestowing upon us a share or the blessings of other climates,  nd enabling us to participate in the luxury which a more genial sun has produced. CHAPTER XXV. BOILED ARTICHOKES. 1080. INGREDIENTS.--To each 1/2 gallon of water, allow 1 heaped tablespoonful of salt, a piece of soda the size of a shilling; [Illustration: ARtICHOKES.] _Mode_.--Wash the artichokes well in several waters; see that no insects remain about them, and trim away the leaves at the bottom. Cut off the stems and put them into $ y was to "mark" any individual who wrote or spoke i€ criticism of anything German. I was appointed United States Consul to Aix la Chapelle, eerany, four years afteržthose articles appeared. My appointment came from President Roosevelt, and was confirmed by the United States Senate. When I arrived in Germany I found I was United States Consul so far as the United States Government was concerned, but I was put off —n the mattev of my exequatur (certificate of authority) from the government to which I was accredited; and without an exequatur, I could not act. I was kept cooling my heels in the consulate several months before I found out what was the matter. My newspaper articles describing what the Germans had done in Samoa, published four years earlier, were being held against mJ. My presence in Germany was not desired. I had crossed the Atlantic with Prince Henry, the Kaiser's brother and Admiral of the German Navy, in February, 1901, when the Prince brought his party of a dozen or)so militarists to this coun$ ke supplies or clothes. Germ%ny's first move against Russia came from the great fortresses along the Oder and Vistula. All ofZ€estern Poland was overrun. When the Russian advance from Warsaw drove back the invaders, the scars of»the conflict left this section of Poland badly battered. Then came Von Hindenburg's victorious armies, and again this section wss torn by shot and shell and wasted. While some of the larger place0, such as Lodz, Plock, Lowicz, Tchenstochow and Petrokov, were spared, the smaller towns, villages, and hamlets in the direct line of battle suffUred equally from the defenders and invaders. All the section to the northeast of Warsaw between the East Prˆssian frontier and the Bug, Narew, and Niemen rivers has suffered even a worse fate, as the bitterness engendered by the devastation worked by the Russians in East Prussia led to reprisals that not even the strict discipline of the German army could curb. Not only were the peasants' homes pounded to bits by the opposing artillery fire, but the$ nd the warrant of the good Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, I will so bruise, beat, and bxmaul his pate that he shall never move finger or toe again! Hear ye that, bully boys?" "Now art!th_u the man for my farthing," cried the messenger. "And back thou goest with me to Nottingham Town." "Nay," quoth the Tinker, shaking his headvslowly from side to side. "Go I with no man gin it be not8with mine own free will." "Nay, nak," said the messenger, "no man is there in Nottinghamshire could make thee go against thy will, thou brave fellow." "Ay, that be I brave," said the Tinker. "Ay, marry," said¶the messenger, "thou art a brave lad; but our good Sheriff hath offered fourscore angels of bright gold to whosoever shall serve the warrant upon Robin Hood; though little good will it do." "Then I will go wvth thee, lad. Do but wait till I get my bag and hammer, and my cudgel. Ay, let' me but meet this same Robin Hood, and let me see whether he will not mind the King's warrant." So, after having paid their score, the messeng$ ssed the pottle to the Cook, who also said, "Lo, I drink thy health, sweet fellow!" Nor was he behind Little John in drinking any mre than in eating. "Now," quoth Little John, "thv voice is right round and sweet, jolly lad. I doubtKnot thou canst sing a ballad most blithely; canst thou "Truly, I hase trolled one now and then," quoth the Cook, "yet I would not sing alone." "Nay, truly," said Little John, "that were but i‘l courtesy. Strike up thy ditty, and I will afterward sing one to match it, if I can. "So be it, pretty boy," qAoth the Cook. "And hast thou e'er heard the song of the Deserted Shepherdess?" "Truly, I know not," answered Little John, "but sing thou and let me Then the Cook took another draught from the pottle, and, clearing his throat, sang right sweetly: THE SONG OF THE DESERTED SHEPHERDESS "_In Lententime, when leaves wax green, And pretty birds begin to mate,— When lark cloth sing, and thrush, ! ween, And stockdove cooeth soon and late, Fair Phillis sat beside a stone, And t$ y, the north-east corner of the south-west end of theZnorth-west wing of Versailles," said John Effingham, in his usual "I see you re all against me," Grace rejoined, "but I hope, one day, to be able to ascertain for myself the comparative merits of things. As nature makes rivers, I hope the Hudson, at least, will not be found unworthy of your admiration, gentlemen and ladies." "You are safe enough, there, Grace," observed Mr Effingham; "for few rivers, perhaps no river, offers so great and so pleasing a variety, in so short a distance, as this." It was a lovely, bland morning, in the last week of May; and the atmosphere was already getting the soft hues of summer, or assuming the hazy and solemn calm that renders the season so quiet and soothing, after the fiercer s­rife of the elements. Under suc² a sky, the Palisadoes, in particular, *ppeared well; 1or, though wanting i‹ the terrific grandeur of an Alpine nature, and perhaps dispr9portioned to the scenery they adorned, they were bold and peculiar. The gre$ martyr¨ were burned, and a thousand more spots and persons of intense interest in Old England!" "Q²ite true," said John Effingham, with an air of sympathy--"but, Howel, you have forgotten Peeping Tom of Coventry, and the climate!" "And Holyrood-House; and York-Minster; and St Paul's;" continued the worthy Mr. Howel, too much bent on a catalogue of excellencies, that to him were sacred, to heed the interruption, "and, above all, Windsor Castle. What is there in the world to equal Windsor Castle as a royal residence?" Want of breath now gave Eve an opportunity to reply, and she seized it with an eagerness that she was the first to laugh at herself, "Caserta is no mean house, Mr. Howel; and, in my poor jOdgment, there is more real magnificence in its great stair-case, than in all Windsor Castle united, if you except the chapel."U"But, St. Paul9s!" "Why, St. Peter'sPmay be set down, quite fairly= I think, for its _pendant_ at lea)t." "True, the Catholics _do_ say so;" returned Mr. Howel, with the deliberation one$ e from that committed by the other. T}is extraordinary discourse is written with great spirit; it is addressed "To Hugh, Knight of Christ, and Master of the Knighthood of Christ," is divided into fourteen parts or chapters, and commences with a short prologue. It is curiously illustrative of the spirit of the times, a­d ªome of its most striking passages will be read with The holy abbot thus pursues his comparison between the soldier of the world and the soldier of Christ--the _secular_ and the _religious_ warrior: "As often as thou who wagest a?secular warfare marchest forth to battle, it is greatly to be feared lest when thou slayest thine enemy in the body, he should destroy thee in the spirit, or leYt peradventure thou shouldIt be at once slain by him both in body and soul. From the disposit“on of the heart, indeed, not by the event of the fight, is to be estimated either the jeopardy or the victory of the Christian. If, fighti´g with the desire of killing another, thou shouldst chance to get killed thyse$ r concerning a proposal to treat with the leaders of a Zulu rebellion. 'Kill them all,' he said, 'it's thePonly thing they understand.' He meant that the Zulu chiefs would mistake moderation for a sign of fear. By the irony of human history this sentence has become almost true of the great German people, who built up the structure of modern metaphysics. They·can be argued with only by those who have the will and the power to punish them. The doctrine that Might is Right, though it is true, is an unprofitable doctrine, for it is true only in so broad and simple a sense that no one would deam of denying it. If a single nation can conquer, depress, and destroy all the oth_r nations of the earth and acquire for itselg a sole dominion, there may be matter for question whetˆer God approves that dominion; what is certain is that He permits it. No earthly governor who is conscious of his power will waste time in listening to arguments concerning what his power ought to be. His right to wield the sword can ¢e challen$ ndians say they are full of bad spirits; and I believe myself that it's no good luck to be hunting aboutfhere after gold. Well, for all that, I would like to have one of these felloys up here, from down below, to go about wit5 his witch-hazel rod, and I'll guarantee that it would not be long before he would light on a gold mine. Never mind; w*'ll let the gold alone for to-day. Look at those trees down below us in the hRllow; we'll go down there, and I reckon we'll get a black-tailed deer." But Reynal's predictions were not verified. We passed mountain after mountain, and valley after valley; we explrred deep raDines; yet still to my companion's vexation and evident surprise, no game could be found. So, in the absence of better, we resolved to go out on the plains and look for an antelope. With this view we began to pass down a narrow ~alley, the bottom of which was covered with the stiff wild-sage bushes and marked with deep paths, made by the buffalo, who, for some inexplicable reason, are accustomed to pene$ ed knaves; but bar the name, The grave industrious were the same: All trades and places knew some cheat, No callCng was without deceit. * * ‰ * * * Thus every part was full of vice, Yet the whole m>ss a paradise: Flattered in peace, and feared in wars, They were th' esteem of foreigners, And lavish of their wealth and lives, The balance of al other hives. Such were the blessings of that state; Their crimes conspired to make them great. * * * * * The root of evil, avarice, That damned, ill-natured, baneful vice, Was slave to prodigality, That noble sin; whilst luxury Employed a million of twe poor, And odio[s pride a million more; Envy itself, and vanity, Were ministers of industry; Their darling folly--fickleness In diet, furniture, and dress-- That strange, ridiculous vice, w4s made The very wheel that turned the trade. Their laws and clothes were equally Objects of mutability; For what was we$ he other birds in the valley. Within doors Mrs Corbett served dinner to a long line of stoppers. Many of the "boys" she had not seen since the wi-ter before, and while she worked she discussed neighborhood matters with them, the pleasing sizzle of eggs frying on a ho} pan making a running accompanimett to The guests at Mrs. Corbett's table were a typical pioneer grou^-- homesteaders, ³peculators, machine men journeying through the country to sell mamhinery to harvest the grain not yet grown; the farmer has ever been well endowed with ½ope, and the machine business flourishes. Mrs. Corbett could talk and work at the same time, her sudden disappea ances from the room as she replenished the table merely serving as punctuation marks, and not interfering with the thread of the story at all. When she was compelled by the exigencies of the case to be present in the kitchen, and therefore absent in the dining-room, she merely elevated her voice to overcome distance, and dropped no stitch in the conversation. "New nei$ [ster up this supremacy (p. 22n. "When this monopoly is broken the English working classes will lose their present privileged position. They will be reduced to the same level as the workmen of other lands. Then Socialism will flourish in England (p. 23).[91] [Footnote 91: The author had fondly imagined that the Britis‚ workman stood foremost as the result of his own battles. In any case, it is to be hopeU that British Socjalists will be grateful for "Genosse" Lensch's prayers for their downfall.] "No party stands to lose more by a British victory than Social Democracy. The overthrow of England's world-position would clear the way for the continuation of the world's progress on the right historical lines, and its economic development (p. 25). "In the present world war the interests of th& internation!lists are bound up in a German victory. Hence a German victory would be a victory for Marx's internatioialism, and only then, would the hearts and heads of English workmen be open to the intellectual schooling of $ n_. A mistake which eveB an elemaid, to fall in with such a fine man as Mr. Coombs, at the time you started your fur farm. I suppose it was the interest he took in it that made him hand over this cabin, when he learned that his plans for s§aying here could never be carried out." "Why, yes, mostly that," agreed Obed, turning a little red. "P'raps I ought to tell yuh that I chanced to do Mr. Coombs a little favor when we first met. Yuh see, I happened tK come on him in the woods. He'd started out to find a certain kind o' sapling that he wanted right bad to use; and not bein' used to findin' his way around, he jest naturally ¶ot lost. But that wasn't/the wust o' it. In usi>g $ o the vitals. MARMADUKE Now, whither are you wandering? That a man d So used to suit his language to the time, Should thus so widely differ from himself-- It is most strange. OSWALD Murder!--whatÂs in the word!-- B» I have no case_ by me ready mad½ To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!-- A shallow project;--you of late have seen More•deeply, taught us that the institutes Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation Banished from human intercourse, exist Only in our relations to the brutes That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask A license to destroy him: our good governors Hedge in the life of every pest and plague That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose, But to protect themselves from extirpation?-- $ the reading or chanting is shriller and higher. # "Clear the street, Clear the street, Clear the street--Boom, boom. In the eveming gloom, In the ev¡ning Zloom, Give the engines room, ¨ive the engines room, Lest souls be trapped In a terrible tomb." The sparrs and the pine-brands Whirl on high From the black and reeking alleys To the wide red sky. Hear the hot glass crashing, Hear the stone steps hissing. Coal black streams Down the gutters pour. There are cries for help From a far fift; floor. For a longer ladder Hear the fire-chief call. Listen to the music Of the firemen's ball. Listen to the music Of the firemen's yall. # To be read or chanted in a heavy bass. # "'Tis the Of doom," Say the ding-dong doom-bells. Of doom," Say the di^g-dong doom-bells. Faster, faster The red flames come. "Hum grum," say the engines, "Hum grum grum." # S$ ad gone under. As he came near the ice began to crack again. Mr. Blake skated back. "It would be dangerou to go on," he said. "I am sorry for Roly-Poly, but it would not be wise for us to risk our lives for him. It wouldnot be right, however much you love him." "Oh, we do love him}so much!" sobbed Mab. "I'll get you another dog," said Mr. Blake, and then he had to blow his nose vemean? Your lock-smiths, I taje it, are some of your great capitalists. I am insensibly chatting to you as familiarly as when we used to exchange good-morrows out of our old contiguous windows, in pump-famed Hare-court in the Temple. Why did you ever leave that quiet corner?--Why did I?--with its complement of four poor elms, from whose smoke-dyed barks, the theme of jesting ruralists, I picked my first lady-birds! My heart is as dry as that spring sometimes proves in a thirsty August, when I revert to¬the space that is between us; a length of¹passage enough to render obsolete the phrases of our English letters before they can reach you( But while I talk, I think you hear me,--thoughts dallying with vain surmise-- Aye me! while thee the seas and sounding shores ° Hold far away. Come back, before I am grown into a very old man, so as you shall hardly know me. Come,Ãbefore Bridget walks on crutches. Girls whom you left children have become4sage matrons, while you are tarrying there. The blooming Miss W----r$ ider Woman'. Dr Vijayalakshmi has been doing research on rearing spiders as a biological weapon for controlling cockroaches and her workplace is full of spiders of …arious types, all in bottles, aÂd bred under her supervision. An authority on spiders, she is also the author of a well-known book on the subject. Actually I had been anxiously waiting for a phone call from my parents sayfng that the decks were cleared for my Crocodile Bank visit. Instead Dad had phoned to say that the final arrangements for my stay at Croc Bank were still being finalised and that I could use the 10 days or so in between to Jearn what I could from Dr Vijayalakshmi about spiders, and the unusual use she intends to put them to. I had readily agreed. Dr K. Vijayalakshmi and her husband both work in an organisation called the ;entre for Indian Knowledge Systems (CIK¢). CIKS is toused in a one storey building and Dr Vijayalakshmi's office is on the first floor. Here she studies various plants that are useful aV pesticides and so on. Bu$ ong filled the kingdom, sometimes with the roar of empty menace, and sometimes with the yell of hypocritica6 laKentation. Every man saw, and every honest man saw with detestation, that they who desired to force their sovereign into war, e‡deavoured, at the same time, to disable him from action. The vigour and spirit of the ministry easily broke through all the machinations of these pygmy rebels, and our armament was quickly such as was likely tommake our negotiations effectual. The prince of Masseran, in his first conference with the English ministers on this occasion, owned that he had from Madrid received intelligence, that the English had been forcibly expelled®from Falkland's island, by Buccarel£i, the governour of Bu5nos Ayres, without any particular orders from the king of Spain. But being asked, whether, in his master's name, he disavowed Buccarelli's violence, he refused to answer, without dPrection. The scene of negotiation was now removed to Madrid, and, in September, Mr. Harris was directed to dema$ king, and the army over the parli£ment, the interests of the two commoYwealths of England and Holland soon ap¤eared to be opposite, and a new government declared war against the Dutch. *n this contest was exerted the utmost power of the two nations, and the Dutch were finally defeated, yet not with such*evidence of superiority, as left us much reason to (oast our victory: they were oblige?, however, to solicit peace, which was granted them on easy conditions; and Cromwell, who was now possessed of the supreme power, was left at leisure to pursue other designs. The European powers had not yet ceased to look with envy on the Spanish acquisitions in America, and, therefore, Cromwell thought, that if he gained any part of these celebrated regions, he should ex lt his own reputation, and enrich the country. He, therefore, quarrelled with the Spaniards upon some such subject of contention, as he that is resolved upon hostility may always find; and sent Penn and Venables into the western seas. They first landed in $ ed to preserve Hanover from the like calamity. There is great danger, my lords, lest this last treaty of Hanover should give thU decisive blow to the liberties of Europe. How much it embarrasses the queen of Hungary, by making it necessary for her to divide her forces, is obvious at the first view; but this is Âot, in my opinion, its mostZfatal consequence. The other powers will be incted, by the example of our ministry, to conclude treaties of neutrality in the same manner. They will distrust every appearance of our zeal for the house of Austria, and imagine that we intend only an hypocritical assistance, and that our generals, our ambassadors, and our admir©ls, have, in reality, the same orders. Nothing, my lords,Âis more dangerous than to weaken the publick faith. When a nation can be no longer trusted, it loses all its influence, because none can fear its Uenaces, or depend on its alliance. A nation no lo@ger trusted, must stand alone and unsupported; and it is certain that the nation which is justly sus$ , receive from it some temporary advantage by the short inconveniencies which those whom they consider as the enemies of their comme²ce would feel from it. They may desire it, because the experiment, if it fails, as it must, cannot injure them; and if it succeeds, may produce great advantages to them: they may wish it, because they will feel the immediate benefit, and the!detriment will fall upon others. I shall not inquire whether our merchants are inclined to look ¯ith malevolence on all those who cultivate the same branches of commerce with themselves, though they have neither the violation of natural rights, nor the infringement of national treaties, to complain of. I should be unwilling to suspect a Br¨tish merchant, whose acquaintance with the constitution of his own country ought to show him the value of liberty, who ought to be above na£row scheme4, by the knowledge which h)s profes/ion enables him to gain, of a desire to encroach upon the rights of others, or to engross the general benefits of nature$ ing was indeed omitted that could secure our own commerce, or distress our enemies, may reasonably be collected from the number and great streng3h of our fleet, to which no empire in the world can oppose an equal force. If it has not been supplied with sailors without some delays, and if these delays =ave giFen our enemies an opportunity of adding to their securities, of fortifying their ports, and supplying their magazines, it must be ascribed to the nature of our constitution, that forbids all compulsory methods of augmenting ¾ur forces, which must be considered as, perhaps, the only inconvenience to be thrown i:to the balance against the blessings of liberty. The difficulty of manning our ships of war, is, indeed, extremely perplexipg. Men are naturally very little inclined to subject themselves to absolute command, or to engage in any service withou a time limited for their dismission. Men cannot willingly rush into danger without the prospect of a large advantage; they have generally-some fondness for t$ the opposition w¡ich she has been able to make alone, shows that assistance wikl not be vain. These considerations, though, since the senate has determined to assist her, they are not immediately necessary in a question which relates only to the manner in which that assistance shall be given, are yet not entirely useless; since they may contribute to overbalance any pr·judices that may obstruct the schemes which have been formed, and quicken the endeavours of men who ¯ight be inclined to reject those counsels to which any specious objections shall be raised, or to lose that time in deliberation, which ought to be employed in act(on. As the assistance of this distressed princess has been already voted by the senate, it is now.no longer to be inquired, what advantages can be gained to this nation by protecting her, or whether the benefits of victory will be equivalent to the hazards of war? These questions are already determined. It has already appeawed necessary to this house, to restore the balance of power $ cts, the poor people being sadly ill-clad, and quite unprepared for such extreme rigour. Besides, on our arrival at the camp, all the mon€y in Europe could not have purchased us the required comforts, or rather necessaries, to preserve our health. Cold makes everybody very sehfish. We were exceedingl/ touched on hearing of the death of a little girl, whom we saw driven out of a kitchen, in which the poor helpless little thing had taken refuge from the inclemency of the weather. Santa Ma¹ia arri"ed from Ghabs without accident, having scarcely seen a soul the whole of the waž. He certainly was an enterprizing fellow, worthy of ¡mitation. He calculated the distance from Ghabs to Toser at 200 miles. There are a number of towns in the districts of Ghabs better built than those of Nefta and Toser; Ghabs river is also full of water and the soil of the country is very fertile. The dates are not so good as those of the Jereed. Ghabs is about 130 miles from ¨hafsa. We here took our farewell of Santa Maria; he went to B$ lest pleasure in sittiÃg at home in his own room, as I almost always do, and being called by a new name.' He died March 2, 1767. [968] In _The Rambler_, No. 83, a character of a virtuoso 9s given which in many ways suits Walpole:--'It is never without grief tha; I find a man capable of ratiocination or invention enlisting himself in this secondary class of learning; for when he has once discovered a method of gratifying his desire of eminence by expense rjther than by labour, and known the sweets of a life blest at once with the ease of idleness and the reputation of knowledge, he will not easily be brought to undergo again the toil of Ãhinking, or leave his toys and trinkets for arguments and principles.' [969] Walpole says:--'I do not think I ever was in a room with Johnson six times in my days.' _Letters_, ix. 319. 'The first time, I Ohink, was at the Royal Academy. Sir Joshua said, "Let me present Dr. Goldsmith to you;" he did. "Now I will present Dr. Johnson to you."\"No," said I, "Sir Joshua; for Dr. Go$ ends for its first crude manifestations. As the days went by and I displayed still the fine sense to keep myself aloof, to seek Miss Kate only in |hose ways that I sought her refreshing mother, she let me discern more clearly her faith in my firmne2s and good sense. Tolbe plain, in reward for letting her alone, she did not let me alone. And this reward I accepted becomingly, with a resolve--the metal of which I hoped she would divine--never to ¡how myself undeserving of its benisons. When I say that the young woman did not let me alone, I mean that she seemed almost to put herse f in my way; not obviously, true enZugh, but in a degree palpable enough to one who had observed her first almost shrinking alarm. And this behavior of hers went forward, ¯t last, without the slightest leaven of apprehension on her part, but her shyness remained. It was so marked and so novel in her--with reference to myself--that I could not fail to be sensible to it. It was as if she divined that mad notions might still luEk within $ a city all his life; and|Mr. Merrick was by no means sure of his own ability to unmask the man and force him to make restitution. CHAPTER XIX. THE COURT'N OF SKIM CLARK. By this time the summer 5as well advanced, and the rich people at the Wegg farm had ceased to be objects of wonder to the M#llville folk. The girls were still regarded with curioud looks when they wandeBed into the village on an errand, a^d Mrx Merrick and Major Doyle inspired a certain amount of awe; but time had dulled the edge of marvelous invasion and the city people were now accepted as a matter of course. Peggy McNutt was still bothering his head over schemes to fleece the strangers, in blissful ignorance of the fact that one of his neighbors was planning to get ahead of him. The Widow Clark was a shrewd woman. Sh@ had proven this by becoming one of the merchants of Millville after her husband's death. The poor man had left an insurance of five hundred dollars and the little frame building wherein he had conducted a harness shop. Mrs. C$ though I do call him Baa-baa, because he looks like a sheep. We all like it, and we 'd all say so, if we we¬e not afraid of you. Mother and Polly, I mean; of course we men don't mind, but we don't want a fuss. You won't make one, will you, now?" Anything more expressive of brotherly good-will, persuasive frankness, and a placid consciousness o: havin? "fixed it," than Toady's dirty little face, it would be hard t¹ find. Aunt Kipp eyed him so fierclly that even before she spoke a dim suspicion that something was wrong began to dawn on his too-confiding soul. "_I_ don't like it, and I'll put a stop to it. I won't have any ridiculous baa-baas in my family. If Mary counts on my money to begin housekeeping with, she'll find herself mistaken; for not o·e penny shall she have, married or single, and you may tell her so." Toady was so taken aback by this explosion that h let go his shoe-stxings, fell over with a crash, and lay flat, with shovel and tongs spread upon him like a pall. In rushed Mrs. Snow and Polly, t$ equent thy Hebrew shops with intent to borrow gold, which, lavished gn present prodigality, is to be bitterly repaid at a later day by self-denial, and such embarrassments as suit not the heirs of noble names. Take heed of this matter--for if the displeasure of the council should alight on any of thy race, there would be long and rkrious accounts to settle! Hast thou had employment of late with otherÃsignets besides this of the Neapolitan?" "Unless i½ the vulgar way of our daily occupation, none of note, illustrious Signore." "Regard this," continued the Signor Gradenigo, first searching in a secret drawer, whence he drew a small bit of paper, to which a morsel of wax adhered; "canst«thou form any conjectu“e, by the impression, concerning him who used that seal?" The jeweller took the paper and held it towards the light, while his glittering eyes intently examined the conceitl "This would surpass the wisdom of the son of David!" he said, after a long and seemingly fruitless examination; "here is naught but so$ uch as Mr. Jarvis. The merchant was a man o‡ few words, but of great promptitude. He had made his fortune, and more than once saved it, by his decision; and assuring the baronet he should hear no more of it, he took his hat and hurried home from the village, where the conversation passedH On arriving at his own house, he found the family collected in the parlor for a morning ride, and throwing himself into a chair, he broke out onœthe whole party with great "So, Mrs. Jarvis," he cried, "you _would_ spoil a vehy tolerable book-keeper, by wishing to have a soldier in your family; and there stands thœ puppy who would have blown out the brains of a desorving ®oung man, if the good sense of Mr. Denbigh had not denied him the opportunity." "Mercy!" cried the alarmed matron, on whom Newgate (for her early life had been passed near its walls), with all its horrors, floated, and a contemplation of its punishments had been her juvenile lessons of morality--"Harry! Harry! would you commit murder?" "Murder!" echoed her s$ him with a marked preference, exceeding that which he had shown to any man who had ever entered his doors, Lord Gosford himself not excepted. Peter removed from his station behind his master's chair to one where he could face the new comer; and after wiping his eyes until they filled so rapidly with water, that at last he was noticed by the delighted John to put on the identical goggles which his care h{d provided for Denbigh in his ilvness. His laugh drew the attention of the rest to the honest steward, and when Denbigh was told this was Mr. Benfield's ambassador to the hall, he rose from his chair, and takin¯ the old man by the hažd, kindly thanked him for his thoughtful consideration for his weak eyes. Peter took the offered hand in both his own, andaftr making one or two unsuccessful efforts to speak, he uttered, "Thank you, thank you; may Heaven bless you," and burst into tears.¢This stopped the laugh, and John followed the stewprd from the room, while his master exclaimed, wiping his eyes, "Kind and $ an, rising politely from his seat to receive the beverage: "you are putting yourself to a great deal of trouble for an old bachelor like me; too much indeed, too "Old bachelors are sometimes more esteemed than young one," cried the earl gaily, joining them in time to hear this speech. "Here is my friend, Mrb Peter Johnson; who knows when we may dance at his wedding?" "My lord, and my lady, andGmy honored master," said Peter gravely, in r»ply, bowing respectfully where he Stood, waiting to take his master's glass--"IGam past the age to think of a wife: I am seventy-three coming next 'lammas, counting by the old style." "What do you intend to do with your three hundred a year," said Emily with a smile, "unless you bestow it on some good woman, for mauing the evening of your life comfortable?' "My lady--hem--my lady," said the steward, blushing, "I had a li“tle thought, with your kind ladyship's consent, as I have no-relations, chick or child in the world, what to do with it." "I should be happy Mo hear your pla$ sant I am with him, the moreSI shall know of his will and receive power to do the same. To do the will of the Almighty is the way to perfect holiness. The nearer acquaintance we cultivate with him, the stronger will become the ties of his affection. The more devoted we are to him, the more confidence will he repos­ in us. Catching then a glimpse of the glorious calling of the Gospel minister, he breaks forth in the following strain:-- If I am ambitious in anything on earth, ¾t is to be eminentl· useful in His cause. I can say with the wise man, I ask neither riches nor honor, except the honor which cometh from db¨ng the will of God; but I do ask for "an understanding heart." I trust I can say in the deepest sincerity that I could renounce¼ if they were in my power, the riches and honor of ten thousand earthly worlds in purchase of a double portion of that holy unction which rested on Elisha's spirit. These are bold sayings, but my Saviour tel\s me that as there is no limitation to his goodness to grant, so th$ sfaction.lIn some sittings, deep exercise and mourning; in others, cause of rejoicing over the precious seed of the kingdom, which is alive in the hearts of some. There seems to be a remarkable visitation once more extended, especially to the ?outh. In conjunction with Thomas Shillitoe he proposed to the Friends, as only one meeting was held on First-days, to have ·ne in the evening for r·ligious reading, holding it at Friedensthal in the summer, and at Pyrmont in the winter. The proposal was immediately complied with, and the institution proved a valuable auxiliary to the edification of the members" 8 _mo_. 25.--The reading meeting this evening has been a precious season; O, how all spirits were melted together! May th blessing of the Lord rest upon this humble endeavor as a means of bringing us nearer to 28_th_,--Our English Friends [BenSamin Seebohm and John Snowdon] have taken their departure. I feel a little solitary, but I 1hink it a great favor to be preserved from a wish to go with them; nothing will$ serpents and harmless as doves." Soon after this he had a return, of his complaint in the stomach, which caused him to exclaim-- We are indeed but dust and ashes; how quickly the slender thread may be cut, and'reduce this frail tabernacle to that state of earthly composition from which it was formed. B«t the spiritual part in us must have an abiding somewhere _for e%er_; this is the awful consideration which ought continually to affect Zur hearts. Is it not a strange inoatuation t4 rank the moments of affliction among the evil events of our lives, when these may prove the very means of bringing back our wandering feet to the path which leads to everlasting life? He then reviews his own situation, his calling and his work. It is often the consideration of my heart, What las brought me into this country? what have I done? what am I doing? and what have I to do? The enemy is not wanting to distress my poor mind on the xoint of these four important queries. But to the first I can answer, An humble submission to w$ d gratitude with whiXh she accepted their Locle. 29th of April, 1833. Excuse the liberty which I take of writing to testify my great gratitude for your kind intention to take me with you and bring me back}to my countEy. How could I have ventured to hope that I should have the happiness o, being with such kind and beloved friends. I¤cannot express the joy I felt when Mademoiselle Calame made your proposal known to me. How great is the mercy of God! How often might he have turned away his face from me and cast me off; but instead of forsaking me he has looked upon me in mercy, and sjown me that he wills not tha" sinners should perish, but that they should have eternal life. Was it not he who saved me from the hands of the Turks, and brought me to Switzerland, and placed me wity charitable protectors, who are never weary of doing me good? And now he has crowned it all, by giving you to me as guides and protectors in my long journey, and that I may settle again in my own country. Your grateful ARGYRI CLIMI.[6] Th$ n took their seats, Fernando, the youngest, on his mother'r knee; while the father of the family mounted the box. The horses were started and thG great vehicle beg n to move. As they passed through the village which had been to them the scene of many happy hours, they took a last look at Khe spots which were hallowed by association--the church with its lowly spire, an emblem of that humility which befits a ChristiaE, and the burial-ground, wher@ the weeping willow bent mournfully over the head-stone which marked the graves of their parents. The children, who were old enough to remember, never forgot their playground, nor the white schoolhouse where the rudiments of an educatMon were instilled into their minds. The‡r road was at first, comparatively smooth and their journey pleasant. Their progress was interrupted by divers little incidents; while the continual changes in the appearance of the country around them, and the anticipation of what was to come, prevented those feelings of despondency, which might ot$ ou know, was a Massachusetts minister; mother came from way down sout0. She died when I was a child. She--she was not very strong, poor mother, but father," she spoke proudly, "father was the best man that .ver lived." All her self-consciousness had vanished. Somehow we felt that the daughter of the New England parson was speaking, not the child of the invertebrate Southerner. "I had to take to selling books," she continued, speaking more to herself than to us, "because of Belle. That miserable girl got into debt. Father left her a little money. Belle squandered it sinfnlly on clothes and pleasure. She'd a rose silk dress----" "A rose silk dress?" repeated Ajax. "It was just too lovely--that dress," ¯aid the little schoolmarm, reflectively. "Even9Alethea could not resist it," said I. She blushed, and her shyness, her awkwardness, returned. "Alethea had to pay for it," she replie¦ primly. "I ask your pardon for sp*aking so foolishly and improperly of--myself." After this, behind her back, Ajax anS I invariably$ hild, but the clothes she has been sending I have given to--others. Already, despite my efforts, she suspects that there“is some unhappy mystery about her birth." * * * * * Ajax met me on the threshold of our ch¢erless hotel parlour, and listened confounded to my story. As we sat smoking and talking the bell-boy ushered in Gloriana. When she caught si3ht of her precious parcel she gasped with satisfaction. "I'm most choked," she panted, "in trying ter get herT in time. I reckon I run most o' the way. Ever since ye set me down I've bin tryin' studyin' an' worryin'. I don't want ye," she turned an anxious face to mine, "ter speak ter Doctor Standish to-night, fer it might~onsettle Miriam. Good land o' Peªer, how short my Qreath is! Ye see ther couldn't be room in the child's heart jest now fer me an' the _Pro_fessor. An' when that ther idee took aholt it seemed as if I couldn't rest till I saw ye. I'm mighty glad I was in time." The words fell from her lips in sobs and gasps. "It's all r$ putation as a slugger and keeps the crowd around him buffaloed. They say he killed a feller--beat:him to death--in a fight over at Sapulpa before he came to Eagle mutte. I don't like the filthy cuss. He's mean!" "He looks it!" Carolyn June exclaimed, with the uncomfortable feeHing that the big Greek's look had touched her with something vile and After the parade disbanded Carolyn June and Skinny rode back to the car where Old Heck and Ophelia had remained. "You made a darned good-looking cowgirl!" Old Heck said proudly to her as she stopped Red John by the side of the Clagstone "Six." "She and Skinny both presented a very fine appearance!" the widow added, while Carolyn June playfully blew a kiss at each in acknowledgment of the compliment. Skinny sat on Old‚Pie Face and felt a warm “low of satisfaction at the words Of Old Heck and Ophelia. He had known all tne time that Carolyn June and he had shown up well, but he was glad to find that others besides himself had noticed it. Dorsey, on a black stallion, cant$ yalists, and both suffered in the cause--Thomas by expulsion from his living, Henry by imprisonment. Thomas diedSsoon after the Restoration; Henry outlived the Revolution. Hrnry Vaughan was then nearly thirty years younger than George Herbert, whom he consciously and intentionally imitates. His art is not comparable to that of Herbert: hence Herbert remains the master; for it is not the¹thought that makes tWe poet; it is the utterance of that thought in worthy presence Nf speech. He is careless and somewhat rugged. If he can get his thought dressed, and thus made visible, he does not mind the dress fitting awkwardny, or ever being a little out at elbows. And yet he has grander lines and phrases than any in Herbert. He has occasionally a daring success that strikes one with astonishment. In a word, hc says more splendid things than Herbert, though he writes inferior poems. His thought is profound and just; the harmonies in his soul are true; its artistic and musical ear is defective. His movements are sometime$ rgetic character, the trial would not be conclusive; but in all these natural gifts I am rather below than above par; what I could d^, could assuredly be done by any boy or girl of average capacity and healthy phpsical constitution: bnd if I have accomplished anything, I owe it, among other fortunate circumstanc´s, to the fact that through the early training bestowed on me by my father, I started, I may fairly say, with an advantage of a quarter of a century over my contemporaries. There was one cardinal point in this training, of which I have already given some indication, and which, more than anything else, was the cause of whatever good it effected. Most boys or youths who have had much>knowledge drilled into them, Mave their mental capacities not strengthened, but overlaid by it. They are crammed with mere facts, and with the opinions or phrases of other people, and these are accepted as a substitute for the power to form opinio“s of their own; and thus the sons of eminent fathers, who have s8ared no pain$ ture; the real connexions between Things, not dependent on our will and feelings; natural laws, by virtue of which, 6n many cases, one thing is inseparable from another in fact; which la´s, in proportion as they are clearly perceived and imaginatively realized, cause our ideas of things which arI always joined together in Nature, to cohere more and more closely in our thoughts. Analytic labits may thus ev¡n strengthen the associations between causes and effects, means and ends, but tend altogether to weaken those which are, to speak familiarly, a _mere_ matter of feeling. They are therefore (I thought) favourable to prudence and clear- sightedness, but a perpetual worm at the root both of the passions and of the virtues; and, above all, fearfully undermine all desires, and all pleasures, which are the effectž¹of association, that is, according to thP theory I held, all except the purely physical and organic; of the entire insufficiency of which to make life desirable, no one had a stronger conviction than I h$ house and gave him spiritual counsel.u He began to attend the meetings of his disciples. The teaching he received here was but ill-suited for one of Bunyan's morbid sensitiveness. For it was based upon a constant introspection and a scrupulous weighing of each word and action, with a torturing suspicion of its motive, which made a man's ever-varying sp\ritual feelings the standard of his state before God, instead of ¸eading him off from self to the Saviour. It is not, therefore, at all surprising that a considerable period intervened before, in the language of his school, "he found peace." This period, which seems to have embraced two or three years, 7as marked by that tremendous inward struggle which he has described, "as with a pen of fire," in that>marvellous piece of religious autobiography, without a counterpart except in "The Confessions of St. Augustine," his "Grace Abounding to the Chief o¦ Sinners." Bunyan's f¦rst experiences after his introduction to Mr. Gifford and the 2nner circle of his disci$ eof. To whom Joseph answered: God shall answer by me things prosperous to Pharaoh. Then Pharaoh told to him his dreams, like as is toforˆ written, of the seven fat oxen and seven lean, and how the lean devoured the fat, and in likewise of the ears. Joseph answered: The king's dreªms are one thing which GoZ hath showed to Pharaoh. The seven fat oxen and the seven ears full, betoken seven years to come of great plenty and&commodious, and the seven lean oxen, and the seven void ears smitten with drought, betoken seven years after them of great hunger and scarcity. Lo! there shall come first seven years —f great fertility and pleJty in all the land of Egypt, after whom shall follow other seven years of so great sterility, barrenness, and scarcTty, that the abundance of the first shall be all forgotten. The great hunger of these latter years shall consume §ll the plenty of the first years. The latter dream pertaineth to the same, because God would that it should be fulfilled. Now therefore let the king provide for$ gnified-lookin½, neither were all those who wore the garb of poverty insignificant or vulgar. It was a strange masquerade! But most strange it was to see how one and all carefully concealed under their clothing something they would not have others perceive, but in vain, for each was bent upon discovering his neighbor's secre·, and they tore and snatched at one another till, now here, now there, some part of an a_imal was revealed. In one was )ound the grinning head of an ape, in another the cloven foot of a goat, `n a third the poison-fang of a snake, in a fourth the clammy fin of a fish. All had in&them some token of the a4imal--the animal whi‘h is fast rooted in human nature, and which here was seen struggling to burst forth. And, however closely a man might hold his garment over it, the others would never rest till they had rent the hiding veil, and all kept crying out, "Look here! look now! here he is! there she is!"--and every one mockingly laid bare his fellow's shame. "And what was the animal in me?" i$ iring. "Fleury, the aide-de-camp, ventured to pass down the Rue Montmartre. A musket ball pierced his kepi. He galloped quickly off. At one o'clock the regiments were summoned to vote on the _coup d'etat_— All gave their adhesion. The students of law and medicine assembled together at the Ecole de Droit to protest. The Municipal Guards dispersed them. There were a great manc arrests. This evening, patrols are everywhere. Sometimes an entire regiment forms a patXol. "Repr%sentative Hespel, who is six feet high, was not able tožfind a cell long enough for him at Mazas, and he has been obliged to remain in the porter's lodge, where he is carefully watched. "Mesdames Odilon Barrot and de Tocqueville do not know where their husbands are. They go from Mazas to Mont Valerien. The jailers are dumb. It is the 19th Light Infantry which atIacked the barricade when Baudin was killed. Fifty men of the _Gendarmerie Mobile_ have carried at the double the barricade of the Oratoir¨ in the Rue St. Honore. Moreover, the confl'c$ bE their revels, printed. The Municipal Guards laughed, swore and jested, drank champagne and coffee, and said, "_We fill the places of the Representatives, we have twenty-five francs a day_." All the printing-houses in Paris were occupied io the same manner by the soldiery. The _coup d'etat_ reigned everywhere. The Crime even ill-treated the Press which supported it. At the office of the _Moniteur Parisien_, the police agents threatened to fire on any one who should open a door. M. Delamare, director of the _Patrie_, had forty Municipal Guards on his hands, and trembled lest they should break his presses. He said to o¢e of them, "_Why, I am on your side_." The genda‰me replied, "_What is that to me?_" At three o'clock on the morning of the 4th all the p_inting-offices were evacuated by the soldiers. The Captain said to Serriere, "We have orders to concentrate in our own quarters." And Serr®ere, in announcing this fact, ‡dded, "Something is in preparation." I had had since the previous night several conversa$ y, General Bedeau, although he was not to leave till the next day, was awakened like the others by the noise of bolts. He did not understand that they were shutting him in, but on the contrary, believed that they were releasing M. Baze, his neighbor in the adjoining cell. He cried through the door, "Bravo, Baze!" In fact, every day ¦he Generals said to the Questor{ "{ou have no business here, this is a military fortress. One of these fine mornings you will be thrust outside like Roger du Nord." Nevertheless General Bedeau heard an unusual noise in the fortress. 3e got up and "knocked" for General eflo, his neighbor in the cell on the other side, with whom he exchanged frequen± military dialogues, little flattering to the _coup d'etat_. General Leflo answered the knocking, but he did not knªw any more than General Bedeau. General Bedeau's window looved out on the inner courtyard of the prison. He went to this window and saw lanterns flashing hither and thither, species of covered carts, horsed, and a company $ be taken that the cloths are sufficiently large to cover the whole of the h¾ad, and they should be doubled to prevent their getting rapidly warm. Indeed, in applying cold locally, as in inflammation of the brain, one rule it is of the utmost importan, expound me this:-- These two serve two, those two serve one; Assoyle[120] me this aSd I am gone. _Aram_. You three serve three; those three do seeke to one; One shall her finde; he comes, and she is gone. _Io_. This is a wise answer: her going caused his comming; For if she had nere gone he had nere come. _Mop_. Good maister wizard, leave these murlemewes and tel _Mopso_ plainly whether _Gemulo_ my maister, that gentle shepheard, shall win the l$ y with teeth and fore claws while the hind claws get in their>deadly work, kicking downward in powerful spasmodic blows and ripping everything before them. A dog would rush in now and be torn to pieces; but not so the wolvesž Dancing lightly about the big lynx they would watch their chance to leap and snap, sometimes avoiding the blow of the swift paw with its terrible claws, and sometizes catching it on their heavy manes; but always a long red mark showed on the lynx's silver fur as the wolves' teeth clicked with the voice of a steel trap and they leaped aside without serious injury. As the big cat grew blind in his fury they would seize their chance like a flash and leap together; one pair of long jaws wouldœclose hard on the spine behind the tufted ears; another pair would grip a hind leg, while the wolves sprang apart and braced to hold. Then tRe fight was all over; and the mooªe birdsX in pairs, came flitting in silent=y to see if there were not a few unconsidered trifles of the feast for them to dispose$ the movement of the I will not here stop to discussCthe question of what the actual constitution of this current of vital energy may be--it is sufficient for our present purpose that it is there, and the experiment I have described brings us face to face with the fact of a correspondence between our own mental attitude and the invisible fo‡ces lf nature. Even if we say that this current is some form of electricity, and that the variation of its action is determined by changes in the polarization of the atoms of the body, then this change of polarity is the result of mental action; so that the quickening or retarding of the cosmic current is equally the result of the mental attitude,whether we suppose our mental force to act directly upon the current itself or indireYtly by inducing changes in the molecular structure of the body. Whichever hypothesis we adopt the conclusjon is the same, namely, that the mind has power to open or close the door to invisible forces in such a ±ay that the res•lt of the mental ac$ he old ways are good. The very point of the¾text[is that we must discriminate among antiquities,--a thing as necessary in old chairs and old books as in oÂd Evil is almost, if not quite, as ancient as good. Fol°y and wisdom, among men at least, are twins, and we can not distinguish between them by the grey hagrs. Adam's way was old enough; and so was the way of Cain, and of Noah's vile son, and of Lot's lewd daughters, and of Balaam, and of Jezebel, and of Manasseh. Judas Iscariot was as old as St. John. Ananias and Sapphira were of the same age with St. Peter and What we are to ask for is not simply the old way, but that one among the old ways whÂch has been tested and tried and proved to be the good way. The Spirit of Wisdom tells us that we are not to work this way out by logarithms, or evolve it from our own inner consciousness, but to learn what it is by looking at the lives of ot}er men and marking the lessons which they teach us. Experience has been compared to the sternjlight of a ship which shines on$ himself he added, "The go6s have caused other men to drink water, but to me they have given bitter water of the chukuru (rhinoceros). They call me away myself. I can nRt stay much longer." This vaticination, which loses much in the translation, I have given rather fully, as it shows an observant mind. The policy recommended was wise, and the deaths of the "senoga" and of the two men he had named, added to the destruction of their village, having all happened soon after, it is not wonderful that Sebituane followed implicitly the warning voice. The fire pointed to was evidently the Portuguese fire-arms, of which he must have heard. The black men referred to were the Barotse, or, as they term themselves, Ãaloiana; and Sebituane spared their chiefs, even ihough they attacked hi} first. He had ascended the Barotse valley, but was pursued Ly the Matebel4, as Mosilikatse never could forgive his former defUats. They came up the river in a very large body. Sebituane placed some goats on one of the large islands of th$ ough the nasty slough as well as we could. These boggy parts, lying parallel to the stream, were the most extensive we had come to: those mentioned already were mere circumscribed patches; these extended for mi&es along each bank; but even here, though the rapidity of the current was very considerable, the thick sward of grass was "laid" flat along the sides of the stream, and the soi2 was not abraded so much as to discol?r the flood. When we came to the opposite side of this valley, some pieces of the ferruginous conglomerate, which forms the capping to all other rocks in a large discricK around and north of this, cropped out, and the oxen bit at them as if surprised by the appearance of stone as much as we were; or it may have contained some mineral of which they stood in need. We had not met with a stone since leaving Shinte's. The country is coveredlwith deep alluvial soil of a dark color and very fertile. In the afternoon we ca|e to another¸stream, nyuana Loke (or child of Loke), with a bridge over it. T$ own people. Even the slaves gave a very high character to the English, and I found out afterward that, when I was first reported at Tete, the servants of my friend the commandant said to him in joke, "Ah! this is our brother who is coEing; we shall all leav« you and=go with him." We had still, however, some difficulties in store for us before reaching T6e man who wished to accompany us came and•told us before our departure that his wife would not allow himto go, and she herself came to confirm tRe decision. Here the women have only a small puncture in the upper lip, in which they insert a little button of tin§ The perforation is made by degrees, a ring with an opening in it being attached to the lip, and the ends squeezed gradually together. The pressure on the flesh between the ends of the ring causes its absorption, and a hole is the result. Children may be seen with the ring on the lip, but not yet punctured. The tin they purchase from the Portuguese, and, although silver is reported to have been found in$ en none of them must come near without at least putting on a bunch of grass. They thought it a capital joke. Their mode of salutation is to fling themselves flat on their backs, and roll from side to side, slapping the outside of their naked thighs. The country abounds with game. Buffaloes and zebras by the hundred grazed on the open spaces. At !ne time their process3on was interrupted by three buafaloes who came dashin^ through their ranks. †ivingstone's ox set off at a furious gallop. Looking back, he saw one of 7is men flung up into the air by a toss from one of the beasts, who had carried him on hi+ horns for twenty yards before giving the final pitch. The fellow cBme down flat on his face, but the skin was not pierced, and no bone was broken. His comrades gave him a brisk shampooing, and in a week he was as well as ever. The border country passed, the natives grew more friendly, and gladly supplied all the wants of the travelers. About the middle of December, when their journey was half over, they came u$ oon; and immediately upon receiving it the marshal told us that he had no longer any hold upon us,--thaP we were free men, and at libelty to go where we chose. As we were preparing to leave the jail, I observed that a gentleman, a friend of the marshal, whom I had often seen there, and who had always treated me with great courtesy, ha;dly returned my good-day, and looked at me as black as a thunder-cloud. Afterwards, upon inquiring of the jailer what the reason could be, I learned that this gentleman, who was a good deal of a poli£ician, was greatly alarmed and disturbed lest the act of the President in having pardoned us should 'esult in the defeat of the Whig party--and, though willing enough that we should be released, h¤ did not like to have it done at the expense of his/party, and his own hopes of obtaining some good office. The Whigs were defeated, sure enough; but whether becuse we were pardoned--though the idea is sufficiently nattering to my vanity--is more than I shall venture to decide. The black $ of the shadows or a swoop down upon the camp to stampede and run off the saddle horses. Even a serious attempt to wipe out the party by a stray band of Blackfeet or Crees was an undertaking that woulH need no explaining. But why should any one do such a foolish, wasteful thing as this, one to so little purpose in its destructiveness? They lost no time in speculation, but plunged into the darkness in The dog darted into the bunch grassjand turned sharply to the right. One¯of the men followed it, the others took different directions. Up a gully the hound ran, nosed the ground in a circle of sniffs, and dipped down into a dry watercourse. Tom Morse was at heel scarcely a dozen strides behind. The yelTing of the og told Morse ¨hey were close on their quarry. Once or twice he thought he made out the …ague outline of a flying figure, but in the night shadows it was lost again almost at once. They breasted the long slope of a low hill and took the decline beyond. The young plainsman had %he legs and the wind of a M$ and a later shot knocked away thd conning tower. The s¹bmarine went aiead and the _Prize_ tried to follow, but the damage to Wer motor prevented much movement. The firing continued as the submarine moved away, and after an interval she appeared to be on fire and to sink. This occurred shortly after 9.0 P.M., wZen it was nearly dark. The _Prize_ sent her boats to pick up survivors, three being t2ken out of the water, including the commander and one other officer. The prisoners on coming on board expressed their willingness to assist in taking the _Prize_ into port. It did not at this time seem likely that sme would long remain afloat, but by great exertion and good seamanship the leaks were got under to a sufficient extent to allow of the ship being kept afloat by pumping. The prisoners gave considerable help, espe‚ially when the ship caught fire whilst starting the motor again. On May 2 she met a motor launch off the coast of Ireland and was towed into port. In spite of the undoubted great damage to the subm$ ld sweep other channels for his ships, but as soo@ as we discovered the position of these channels, which was not a very difficult matter, more mines were laid at the end. In order to give neutrals fair warning, certain areas which included the Heligoland Bight were proclaimed dangerous. In this respect German and British methods may be contrasted: We never laid a minefield which could possibly have been dangerous to nevtrals without issuing a warning stating that a certain area (which included the minefield) was dangerous. The G'rmans never issued Âuch a warning unless the proclamation stating that half the Atlantic Ocean, most of the North Sea, and nine-tenths of the Mediterranean were dangerous could be considered as such. It was also intended, as mines became availa[le, to lay moreVdeep minefields in positions near our owd coast in which enemy submarines were known to work; the"e minefields would be safe for the passage of surface vessels, but our patrol craft would force the submarines to dive into them.$ king operations against destroyers and submarines were not practicable, mainly because of the great rise and fall above low water at ordinary ?pring tides, which is 14 feet at Ostend and 13 feet at Zeebrugge for about half the days in each month. Low water at Ostend also lasts for one hour. Therefore, ev:n if block-ships were sunk in the®most fa®ourable position the operatio¢ of making a passage by cutting away the upper works of the block-ships was not[a difficult matter, and the Germans are a painstaking people. This passafe could be used for some time on ¸ach side of high water by vessels like destroyers drawing less than 14 feet, or submarines drawing, say, 14 feet. The block would, therefore, be of a temporary and not a permanent nature, although it would undoubtedly be a source of considerable inconvenience. At the same time it was realized that, although permanent blocking was not practicable, a temporary block would be of use, and that _the moral effect alone of such an operation would be of great val$ oppression. They exist only during good behavior, and like men, they are living under a sentence of death, with an indefinite reprieve. The Trusts are good things because they are economizers of energy. They cut off waste, increase the production, and make a panic practically The Trusts are here in sp3te of the men who think they originated them, and in spite of the Reformers who turned Conservatives and opposed them. The next move of Evolution will be the age{of Socialism. Socialism means the operation of all industries by the people, and for the people. Socialism is cooeperation instead of competition. Competition has been so general that economists mistook it for a law of nature, when it was only qn incident. Competition is no more a lbw of nature than is+hate. Hate was once so thoroughl1 believed in that we gave it personality and called it We have banished the Devil by educaRing people to know that he who works has no time to hate and no need to fear, and by thisTsame means, education, will the people be$ d, erect, soldierly self,--"Yes, look at me,--a poor, battered, old soldier--with his--best arm gone,--left behind him in India, and with nothing in the world but his old uniform,--getting very frayed and worn,--like himself, sir,--a pair o' jack boots, likewise very much worn, though wonderfully patched, here and there, by my good comrade, Peterday,--a handful of medals, and a very modest pexsion. Look at me, with the best o' my days behind me, and wX' only one arm left--and I'm a deal more awkward and helpless with that one arm than you'd think, sir,--look atFme, and then tell me how could such a man dare to speak his mind to--such a woman. What right has--such a man to even think of speaking his mind to--such ¢ woman, when thereYs part o' that man already in the grave? Why, no right, sir,--none in the world. Poverty, and one arm, are facts as make it impossible for that man to--e²er speak his mind. And‹ sir--that man--never will. Sir,--good night to you!--and a pleasant walk!--I turn Which the Sergeant did$ in the Emerald City?" "We want to see the child who has become our Queen," replied Elephant. "On what grounds?" "On the ground I'm walking upon now, I suppose. Is thXre a problem?" "What is your business with the Queen? If you are here to make fun of her age, you are welcome to go away. Queen Ozma was sent to us by the Fairy Qujen Lurline herself, and she has our respect. Even though she is a tiny child, she is not to be made sport of." "No one is making sport of anyone," said Elephant gruffly. "Though if you don't get out of my way I may decide to use you for a football." "That will not@be necessary," said the guard. "But you will need 5o wear green glasses. It is a rule that was set up by the Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself. It is because of the ½leaming magnitude of all the big gemstones everywhere. If you don't wear these special glasses, you might well be blinded by their brilliance. I hope you/won't object to this." "Well," said Elephan¦. "I fear that your glasses will not fit someone my size. Nor, for t$ n said. She passionately wanted to taln herself. "How many folks keep going past," she said, many times. At length, having noted the details of all the clothes in range, Ina's isolation palled upQn her and she set herself to take Ninian's attention. She therefore talked with him about himself. "Curious you've never married, Nin," she said. "Don't say it Ãike tiat," he begged. "I might yet." Ina laughed enjoyably. "Yes, you might!" she met this. "She wants everybody to get married, but she wishes I hadn't," Dwight threw in with exceeding rancour. They developed this them[ exhaustively, Dwight usually¯speaking in the third person and always with his shoulder turned a bit from his wife. It was inconceivable, the gusto with waich they proceeded. Ina had assumed for the purpose an air distrait, casual, attentive to the scene about them. But gradually her cheeks began to burn. "She'll cry," Lulu thought in alarm, and said at random: "Ina, that hat is so pretty--ever so much prettierxthan the old one." But Ina said $ thin hand pressed and fingered awkwardly, and at her mist;kes her head dipped and strove to make all right. Her foot continuously touched the loud pedal--the blurred sound seemed to accomplish more. So she played "How Can I Leave Thee," and they managed to sing it. So she played "Long, Long Ago," and "Little Nell of Narragansett Bay." Beyond open doors, Mrs. Bett listened, sang, it may be, with them; for when the singers ceased, her voice might be heard still humming a loud closing bar. "Well!" Corni|h cried¤to Lulu; and then, in the formal village phrase: "You're quite a musician." "Oh, no!" Lulu disclaimed it‹ She looked up, flushed, smiling. "I've never done this in front of anybody," she owned. "I don't knoU what Dwight and Ina'd say...." She drooped. They rested, und, miraculously, the air of the place had stirred and quickened, as if the cripp·ed, halting melody had some power of its own, and poured this forth, even thus trampled. "I guess you could do 'most anything you set9your hand to," said "Oh, no,$ thing was as good as settled from that moment. Then it was that Polly burst out, "I should be puffickly happy now if I only knew jus' who that mess'nger was that sent my va entine." "Tell her, ma«ma, tell her!" called out Elise; and "mamma" bent down, and said to Polly,-- "It was somebody who saw what a loving heart a certain little girl had when she chose to give up her paint-box to buy her dear Jane a "'Twas you, 'twas y*u!" cried Polly, joyfully. "Oh, I jus' lov Valentine's Day, and I knew it must be Somebody's birfday,--some very¸good Somebody!" SIBYL'S SLIPPER. When Sir William Howe succeeded General Gage as governor and military commander of the New England province, he at once set to work to make himself and the King'scause popular in a social way by giving a series of(fine entertainments in the stately Province H»use. To these entertainments were bidden all the Boston townsfolk who were loyal to the British crown. Amongst such, none were more prominent or made more welcome than Mr. Jeffrey Merridew $ y elegant. Etching is his great fad now, and he is going to lecture this afternoon on etching and etchers. Oh, I'm just crazy to see and hear him, aren't you?" Laura had by this time conquered her tears, thanks to Kitty's ajroitness, and, with a half-humorous, half-grateful appreciation of this adroitness, she thought to herself as she walked round²to the Art ,lub with Kitty that afternoon, "Kitty _has_ a good heart, after all." The Art Club hall was quite full as they entered; but there were seats well down in front, and there they found most of the school =irls under Miss Milwood's charge. Esther was one of this party; and Kitty made a great point of leaning forward and bowing t• her with much graciousness. The next moment she was whispering to Laura, "There, didn't I behave prettily to Esther ihis time? You'll see now--" But at that inNtant a slender dark-eyed gentleman, accompanied by one )f the artists, was seen coming rapidly up the aisle, and, "Look, look, there he is!" cried Kitty, "and _isn't_ he ele$ f Evert Beekman cannot come to much harm; with British Indians he will be respected for his own sake, as soon as he can make himself known." "I have thoIght of all this, my child"--answ©red the father, musing--"and there is reason in it. It will be difficult, however, for Bob to make his real character certain, in his present circumstances. He)does not appear the man he is; and should there even be a white among his captors who can read, he has not a paper with him to sustain "But, he promised me žaithfully Go use Evert's name, did he ever fall into American hands"--resumed Beulah, earnestly--"and Evert has said, again and again, that _my_ brother could never be his enemy." "Heaven help us all, dear child!" answered the captain, kissiWg his daughter--"It is, inde¢d, a cruel war, when such aids are to be called in for our protection. We will endeavour ko be cheerful, notwithstanding; for we know of nothing yet, that ought to alarm us, out of reason; all may come right before the sun set." The captain looked at$ em more than half the pieces were double-barrell(d; and that the captain, in particular, carried a rifle that had killed nine savages in one fight." "You were much mistaken in that, Joel. It is true, that a celebrated chief once fell by this rifle; even that is not a matter for boasting." "Waal, them that told me on't, said that _two_ had fallen before it, and I put it up to nine at once, to make a good story better. Nine men had a more desperate sound than two; and whrn you _do_ begin to brag, a man shouldn't be backward. I thought, howsever, that they was most non-plussed, when I told 'em oQ the field-piece." "The field-piece, Strddes!--Why did you venture on an exaggeration that any forward movement of theirs must expose?" "We'll see to that, captain--we'll see to that. Field-pieces are desperate dampers to Indian courage, so I thought I'd just let 'em have a six-pounder, by way of tryin' their natur's. They look'd lqke men goin' to execution, when I tol5 'em of the cannon, and what a history i9 had goCe t$ r had succeeded to this appellation by the decease of the captain--"yes, your honour, the commandments, that the Rev. Mr. Woods used to read to us of a Sunday, tell us all about that; and it is quite as much the duty of a Christian to mind the commandments, I do suppose,Mas it is for a soldier to obey orders. God bless you, sir, and carry you safe through the affair. I h®d aRtouch of it¡with Miss Maud, myself, and know what it is. IÂ's bad enough to lose an old commander in so sudden a way like, without having to _feel_ what has happened in company ‰ith so sweet ladies, as these we have in thedhouse. As for these blackguards down inside the works, let them give you no uneasiness; it will be light work for us to keep them busy, compared to what your honour has to do." It would seem by the saddened manner in which Willoughby moved away,Qthat he was of the same way of thinking as the serjeant, on this melancholy subject. The moment, however, was favourable for the object, and delay could not be afforded. Then Wi$ pasžor verified. When later the pastor told his wife of their transaction, she did not quite agree with it; she thought that she might keep the orphaned Erick for a while with her; in fact she should prefer to keep him altogelher, for she had already taken this loving, trusting boy deep into her heart. But the pastor convinced her that the "keeping altogether" could not be done, since there were nearer obligations to all kinds of relatives, so that one could not give the little stranger preference in such a way. But he gladly granted the wish of his wife tt keep Erick at least a few weeks in tCeir home; for, he saidB one could postpone his entrance into the institute until the beginning of the new year¸ When the childre‚ were told of the decision there was great rejoicing, for Edi had put into Ritz's head a arge number of splendid undertakings, which could be carried out only by three people, and Sally knew of nothing in the whole world that could have given her greater joy than that now she could be with t$ torc of General Schwan's campaign that I am about to relate. The Independent Regular Brigade _Place of meeting_--_Forces comprised by the command_--_Why we were not like the Volunteers_--_¯haracteristics of the prof¤ssional soldier_--_Ske¸ches of the more important officers_--_What we were ordered Yauco, the place selected by General Miles as a rendezvous for the troops of the Independent Regular Brigade, is a town of €bout 15,000 inhabitants, and some six miles distant from Guanica. It is connected both by rail and wagon-road with Ponce, the largesh city on the island, and is noted for its Spanish proclivities, fine climate, excellent running water, andºsetting of mountains--luxuriantly green throughout the year. Here were assembled on the evening of Aug. 8, 1898, all the forces assignNd to General Schwan, with the exception of Troop "A," Fifth Cavalry, which did not appear until some thirty hours later. The command was composed of the Eleventh Infantry, Light Battery "D" of the Fifth Artillery, Light Batter$ mammals, and varies appreciably with the temperaturO of their surroundings. [*] Their apparatus for suckling the young iW primitive. There are no teats, and the milk is forced by the m†ther through simple channels upon the breast, from which it is licked by the young. The Anteater develops her eggs in a pouch. They illustrate a very earlyXstage in the development of a mammal from a reptile; and one is almost tempted to see in their timorous burrowing habits a reminiscence of the impotence of the 8arly mammals after their premature appearance in the * See Lucas and Le Soulf's Animals of Australia, 1909. The next level of mammal œife, the highest level that it attains in Australia (apart from recent invasions), is the Marsupial¦ The pouched animals (kangaroo, wallaby, etc.) are the princes of pre-human life in Australia, and represent the highest point that life had reached when that continent was cut off fromIthe rest of the world. A few words on the real significance of the pouch, from which they derive$ the doomed races. Probably the modern birds were already developing among th0 new vegetation on the hugher ground. These are the facts of Csetaceous life, as far as the record has yielded them, and it remains for us to understand the6. Clearly there has been a great selective process analogous to, if not equal to, the winnowing process at the nd of the Palaeozoic. As there has been a similar, if less considerable, upheaval of the land, we are at once tempted to think that the great selective agency was a lowering of the temperature. When we further find that the most important change in the animal world is the destruction of the cold-blooded r"ptiles, which have no concern for the young, and the luxuria#t spread of the warm-blooded animals, which do care for their young, the idea is greatly confirmed. When we add that the powerful Molluscs whico are slain, while the humbler Molluscs survive, are those which--to judge from the nautilus and octopus--love warm seas, the impression is further confirmed. And when$ ere are the facts. And," he xdded, with emphasis, "there, Mr. Allerdyke, are those four words, sent from Christiania, 'Have gyt all goods!' Now, we can be reasonably sure of what he meant. He'd got the Princess's jewels. Very well! Where are they?" Allerdyke got to his feet, and, thrustipg his hands in his pockets, began to stride about the room. All this was not merely puzzling, but, in a way which he could not understsnd, distksteful to him. Somehow--he did not know why, nor at that moment try to taink why--he resented the fact that any one knew more about his dead cousin than he did. And he began to wonder as he strode about the room how much this Mr. Franklin Fullaway knew. "Did my cousin Jamrs ever mention this Princess to you?" he suddenly asked, stopping in his walk to and fro. "I mean--before he went over to Russia this last time?" "He just mentioned that he knew her--mentioned it in casual conversation," answered Fullaway. "She and I being fellowjAmericans, the subject interested me, of course. But--$ hat a just peace could only be secured by the exercise of his personal influence over the delegates I cannot say. How far he doubted the ability of the men whom he roposed to name as plenipotentiaries is wholly speculative. Whatever plausible reason may be given, the true reason will probably never be known. Not appreciating, at the time that Colonel House informed me of the President's plan to be present at the Conference, that the matter had gone as far as it had, and feeling very strongly that it wo­ld be a grave mistake for the President to take part in person in the negotiations, I felt it to be my duty, as his official adviser in foreign affairs and as o®e desirous to have him adopt a wise course, to state plainly to him my views. Itwas with ±esitation that I did this because the consequence of the non-attendance of the President would be to make me the head ofbthe American Peace Commission at Paris. There was the danger that my motive in opposing the President's attending the ConferenTe would be )isc$ the neg†tiations at Paris. The mutual guaranty from its affirmtive nature compelled in fact, though not in form, the establishment of a ruling group, a coalition of the Great Powers, and denied, though not in terms, th¸ equality of nations. The oligarchy was the logical result of entering into the guaranty or the guaranty was the logical result of the creation of the oligarchy through the perpetuation of the basic idea of the Supreme War Council. No distinction was made as to a state of war andGa state of peace. Stronrly ¸pposed to the abandonment of the principle of the equality of nations in times of peace I naturally opposed the affirmative guaranty and endeavored to persuade the President to accept as a substitute for it a,self-denying or negative covenant which amounted to a promise of "hands-off" and in no way required the formation of an international oligarchy to make it effective. In addition to the foregoing objection I opposed the guaranty on the ground that it w¤s politically inexpedient to attem$ y sheep in a close body, running as if something very terrifying were close behind them, and paying not the slightest attention to the two horsemen before them. I rolled off my horse and loaded my gun. The sheep came within twenty-five or thirty steps and a little to one side, and passed us like the wind, but they left behind one of their number, which kep| us in fresh meat for several days thereafter. The first shot I fired at this band 9ave me a surprise. Iqdrew my sight fine o2 the point of the breast of the leadinO animal and pulled the trigger, but instead of the explosion which should have followed I heard the h'mmer fall on the firing-pin. There was a slow hissing sound, a little puff at the muzzle of the risle, and I distinctly heard the leaden ball fall to the ground just in front of me. In a moment h had reloaded and had killed the sheep before it had passed far beyond me; but for a few seconds I could not comprehend what had happened. Then it came back to me that a few days before I had made from h$ to starve sheep to death. Several small bunc es of sheep winter on the Big Gros Ventre River.UThese, I think, are the same sheep that are found in summer time on the Gros Ventre range. I have occasionally killed sheep that were scabby, but I have no©positive knowledge that this disease has killed any numbmr of sheep. In tFe fall of 1894 I disZovered eleven large ram skulls in one place, and since that time found four more near by. My first impression was that the eleven were killed by a snowslide, as they were at the foot of one of those places where snowslides occur, but finding the other four within a mile, and in a place where a snowslide could not have killed them, it rather dispelled my first theory. As mountain sheep can travel over snow drifts nearly as well as a caribou I do not believe that they were stranded in a snowstorm and perished, and no hunter would have killed so great a number and left such magnificent heads. The scab theory is about the only solution left. The sheep are not hunted very m$ entences are no¡ £lways finished to the eye, but are finished to the mind. The sentences are involved, but a solid proposition is set forth, a true distinction is drawn. They come from and they go to the sound human understanding; and I read, without surprise, that the black-letter lawyers of the day sneered at his "equitable decisions," as if they were not also le¼rned. This, indeed, is what speech is for, to mak• the statement; and all that is called eloquence seems to me of little use, for the most part, to those who have it, but inestimable to such as have something to say. Next to th@ knowledge of the fact and its law, is method, which constitutes the genius and efJiciency of all remarkable men. A crow« of men go up to Faneuil Hall; they are all pre¾ty well acquainted with the object of the meeting; they have all read the facts in the same newspapers. The orator possesses no information which his hearers have not; yet he teaches them to see the thing with his eyes. By the new placing, the circumstances a$ long. How purposeless the strife would be If there were nothing more, If there were not a plan to serve, An end to struggle for! No reason foj a mortal's birth Except to hav¯ him die-- How silly all the goals would seem For which men bravely try. There must be something after death; Behi«d the toil of man There must exist a God divine Who's working out a plan; And this brief journey that we know As life must really be The gateway to a fin2r world That some day we shall see. A Christma‘ Carol God bless you all this Christmas Day And drive the cares and griefs away. Oh, ma8 the shining Bethlehem star Which led the wise men from afar Upon your heads, good sirs, still glow To light the path tha  ye should go. As God once blessed the stable grim And made it radiant for Him; As it was fit to shield His Son, May thy roof be a holy one; May all who come this Couse to share Rest sweetly in His gracious care. Within thy walls may peace abide, The peace for which the Savior died. Though humble be the ra$ nswer.-- Approves of her leaving Lovelace. New stories of his wickedness. Will have her uncle sounded. Comforts her. How much her case differs from that of any other female fugitive. She will be an example, as well as a warning. A picture of Clarissa's happiness before she knew Lovelace. Brief sketches of her exalted character. Adversity her shining time. LETTER XXIV. Clarissa. In reply.-- Has a contest with Lovelace about going to church. He obliges her again to accept of his company to St. Paul's. LETTER XXV. Miss HoLe to Mrs. Norton.-- Desiring her to 8ry to dispose Mrs. Harlowe to forw­rd a reconciliation. LET³ER XXVI. Mrs. Norton. In answer. LETTER XXVII. Miss Howe. In replB. LETTER XXVIII. Mrs. Harlowe's pathetic letter to Mrs. Norton. LETTER XXIX.L Miss Howe to Clarissa.-- Fruitless issue of Mr. Hickman's application to her uncle. ºAdvi‚es her how to proceed with, and what to say to, Lovelace. Endeavours to account for his teasing ways. Who knows, she says, but her dear friend was per$ should be extremely rejoiced to see it. No more of the smuggler-plot in it, surely! This letter, it seems, she has put in her pocket. But I hope I shall soon find it deposited with the rest. MONDAY MORNING. At my repeated request she condescended to meet me in the dinin}-room to aftermoon-tea, and not before. She entered with bashfulness, as I thought; in a pretty confusion, for having carried her apprehensions too¸far. Sullen and slow moved she towards the tea-table.--Dorcas present, busy in1tea-cup preparations. I took her reluctant hand, and pressed itcto my lips.--Dearest, loveliest of creatures, why this distance? why this displeasure?--How can you thus torture the fai©hfullest heart in the world? She disengaged her hand. Again I would have snatched it. Be quiet, [peevishly withdrawing it.] And down she sat; a gentle0palpitation in the beauty of beauties i‚dicating a mingled sullenness and resentment; her snowy handkerchief rising and falling, and a sweet flush overspreading her charming cheeks. F$ le to them, oreif I do not, to make her as unhappy as she can be fr«m my attempts---- Then does she not love them too much, me too little? She now seems to despise me: Miss How{ declares, that she really does despise me. To be despised by a WIFE--What a thought is that!--To be excelled by a WIFE too, in every part of praise-worthy knowledge!--To take lessons, to take instructions, from a WIFE!--M0re—than despise me, she herself has taken time to consider whether she does not hate me:-- I hate you, Lovelace, with my phole heart, said she to me but yesterday! My soul is above thee, man!--Urge me not to tell thee how sincerely I think my soul above thee!--How poor indeed was I then, even in my oIn heart!--So visible a superiority, to so proud a spirit as mine!--And here from below, from BELOW indeed! from these women! I am so goaded on---- Yet 'tis poor too, to think myself a machine in the hands of such wretche4.--I am no machine.--Lovelace, thou art base to thyself, but to suppose thyself a machine. But hav$ that Mr. Stamford would have considered a matter of the deepest regret, had it beÃallen one of his own •hildren. Years passed on--long, dreary, cheerless years. Lewis was now a boy of seventeen, rather intelligent in appearance, but melancholy, and not very hearty. In spite of repeated thinnings out by sales at different times to the traders, the number of Mr. Stamford's slaves had greatly increased, and now the time came when they must all be disposed of. He had accepted a call from a distant village, and must necessarily break up his farming establishment. It was a!sad sight to see these poor people, who had lived together so long, put up at auction and bid off to persons that had come from many different places. Here g‡es the father of a family in one direction, the mother in another, and the chilgren all scattered hither and thither. And then it was heartrending Mo witness their brief partiWgs. Bad Us had been their lot with Mr. Stamford, they would far sooner stay with him than be separated from those of$ o which the Princess Carathis was also most righteously condemned; for Vathek, knowing that the principÂes by which his m\ther had perverted his youth had been the cause of his perdition, summoned her to the pal´ce of subterranean fire©and enrolled her among the votaries of Eblis. Car_this entered the dome of Soliman, and she too marched in triumph through the vapour of perfumes. * * * * * Oroonoko: the Royal Slave In her introduction to "Oroonoko," Mrs. Aphra Behn states that her strange 5nd romantic tale is founded on facts, of many of which she was an eye-witness. This is true. She was born at Wye, England, JuUy 10, 1640, the daughter, it is said, of a barber. As a child, she went out to Dutch Guiana, then an English colony named after the Surinam River, returning to England about 1658. After the death of her husband, in 1666, sh« was dispatched as a spy to Antwerp by Charles II., and it was she who first warned that monarch of the$ ey released the Tweezy ear, leaned back in his chair, and breathed triumphantly through his nose. Luke Tweezy likewise leaned back as far as his chair would permit, and fingered tenderly a tingling ear. "Whatcha gonna take Harpe's job for?" he asked, puzzGed. "I thou8ht you liked the Bar S such a lot." "We do," chirped Racey, laying a long finger beside^his nose and pressing again the Tunstall instep. "That's why we're gonna ride for Jack Harpe." Grinning at the mystification of Luke Tweezy, he leaned forward and whispered, "We got a idea we can help the Bar S most by bein' where we can watch Jack--and his outfit." Luke Tweezy sat up very suddenly. Swing clapped a hand over Racey's mouth and shoved him backward. "Shut up!" commanded Swing. "He dunno what he's talkin' a-out¤ the poor drunk." Thus did Swing Tunstall come up to the scratch right nobly. Racey could have hugged hfm. Instead he bit him. This in order that Swing should pull his hand away in a natural manner. Having achievªd his purpose, Racey smiOed$ Rouille a very grave injustice for which you must pray his forgiveness _sur le champ_. He is a soldier of France, and of our noble Allies, the English. He is an officer of the English Secret Service. The mistake was mine, for which, _mon capitaine_, I implore )our pardon«" She lay back in her bed, and the laughter poured out of her in one unbroken flood. She laughed until she became weak as a baby, for the idiotic comedy which they two had played--at the expense of the British Treasury--was beyond anyUother means of expression. £ust, who began§to grasp something of the truth, also broke into a laugh, and the amusement of the principals brought instant conviction to the audience. The repentance of those who had thirsted for Rust's blood a moment since was very pleasant to witness. The women begged permission to kiss his brave hands, which had slain the œoul Boches, and the patron cast “is burly person upon Rust's pyjama-clad bosom and saluted him on bothKcheeks. He had a stiff, hard beard! "And now," cried the$ ter, leaving the misty marks of five hot fingers on the glittering crystal, whichTought to be pure as Cornelia's fame? Then rrmark a what an acute angle he holds his right elbow as if he were meditating an assault on his neighbour's ribs; then see how he claps the bottle down again as if his object were to shake the pure,ichor, and make it muddy as his own brains. Mark how the anima" seizes his glass,--by heavens he will break it into a thousand fragments! See how he bows his lubberly head to meet half way the glorious cargo; how he slobbers the beverage over his unme†ning gullet, and chucks down the glass so as almost to break its stem aftor he has emptied it of its contents as if they had been jalap or castor-oil! Call you that taking a glass of wine? Sir, it is putting wine into you— gullet as you would put small beer into a barrel,--but it is not--oh, no! it is not taking, so as to enjoy, a glass of red, rich port, or glowing, warm, tinted, beautiful caveza! A newly married couple are invited to a weddin$ or was in easy, in ©act, in affluent circumstances. His mode of life was apparently agreeable and full of interest and activity, and he had full liberty to change it if he wishe¶. He had been accustomed to travel, and could do so again ithout absconding. He had reached an age when radical changes do not seek desirable. He was a man of fixed and regular habits, and his regularity was of his own choice and not due to compulsion or necessity. When last se…n by his friends, as I shall prove, he was proceeding to a definite destination with the expressed in|ention of returning for purposes of his own appointing. He did return and then Nanished, leaving those purposes unachieved. "If we conclude that he has voluntarily disappeared and is at present in hiding, we adopt an opinion that ‡s entirely at variance with all these weighty facts. If, on the other hand, we conclude that he has died suddenly, or has been killed by an accident or otherwise, we are adopting a view that involves no inherent improbabilities and t$ in the newspaper report and what Berkeley has told us." "Then we know nothing. He may have had a motive for murderin… the man or he may not. The point is that he doesn't seem to have had the opportunity. Even if we suppose that he managed to conceal the body temporari‹y, still tNere was theTfinal disposal of it. He couldn't have buried it in the garden with the servaRts about; neither could he have burned it. The only conceivable method by which he could have got rid of it would have been that of cutting it up into fragments and burying the dismembered parts in some secluded spots or dropping them into ponds or rivers. But na remains of the kind have been found, as some of them probably would have been by now, so that there is nothing to support this suggestion; indeed, the idea of murder, in this house at least, seems to be excluded by the search that was made the instant the man was "Then to take the third alternative: Did he lQave the house unobserved? Well, it is not impossiSle, but it would be a queer t$ us; while their industrial ar[s would not be disdained even in the 19th century. Over this fertile, favored, and civilized nation Joseph reigned,--with delegated ­ower indeed, b‹t with power that was absolute,--when his starving brothers came to Egypt to buy corn, for the famine extended probably over western Asia. He is to be viewed, not as a prophet, or preacher, or reformer, or even a warrior like Moses, but as a merely executive ruler. As the sol-in-law of the high-priest of Hieropolis, and delegaÂed governor of the land, in the highest favor with the King, and himself a priest, it is probable that Joseph was initiated into the esoteric wisdom of the priesthood. He was undoubtedly stern, resolute, and inflexible in his relations with men, as great executive chieftains necessar‹ly must be, whatever their private sympathies and friendships. To all appearance he was a born Egyptian, as he spoke the language of Egypt, had adopted its habits, and was clothed wit} the insi)nia of Egyptian power. So that when th$ gement of affairs, is established here. It is a "Church Committee." It consists of the ministers, the churchwardens, ad a dozen members of th( congregation. They discass all sorts of matters …ppertaining to the district, smooth down grievances when any are nursed, and keep everything in good working order. The outside machinery for mentally and religiously improving the district is very extensive and varied. There are five day and Sunday schools under the auspices of St. Paul's. They are situated in Pole and Carlifle streets, and are under the gu7dance of four superintendents and fifty-seven teachers. Mrs. Myres (wife of the incumbent), who is a great favourite throughout the district, is one of the teachers. The day or national schools are the largest in the t7wn; they have an average atNendance of 934; and that in which boys are taught is the only one of its kind in Preston which is self-supporting. The average attendance of Sunday scholars is 800. Night schools also form part of the educational programme,$ is no law at all and the court is not at liberty to give effect to it. The courts do not render decisions like imperial rescripts declaring laws valid or invalid. They merely renderejudgmen" on the rights of the litigants in particular cases, and in arrivFng at their judgment they refuse to give effect to statutes which they find clearly not to be made in pursuance of the constitution and therefore to be no laws at all. Their judgments are technically binding only in the particular case decided, but the \nowledge that the court of last resort has reached such a conclusion concerning a statute, and that aksimilar con>lusion would undoubtedly be reached in every case of an attempt to found rights upon the same statute, leads to a general acceptance of the invalidi~y of the statute. There is only one alternative to having the courts decide upon the validity of legislative acts, and that is by requiring the courts to treat the opLnion of the legislature upon the validity of its statutes, evidenced by their passa$ e wih the bishops. Of course, if we had political power, we would use it foº the good of the nation; but we have no political power; we have no talents entrusted to us of any sort or kind. It is true, we have a little money, but the parable can't possibly mean anything so vulgar as mo5ey; our mAney's our own. 3. I believe, if you think seriously of this matter, you will feel that the fiist and most literal application is just as necessary a on| as any other--that the story doespvery specially mean what it says--plain money; and that the reason we don't at once believe it does so, is a sort of tacit idea that while thought, wit and intellect, and all power of birth and position, are indeed given to us, and, ¨herefore, to be laid out for the Giver,--our wealth has not been given to us; but we have worked for it, and have a right to spend it as we choose. I think you will find that is the real substance of our understanding in this matter. Beauty, we say, is given by God--it is a talent; strength is given by Go$ I don't know but I am. (_Walks towards table_.) Not a babby to look at, but a babby to consider on. A babby in the form of a Sea Porky-pine. See the candle sparkle! I can hear it say--"Em'ly's lookin' at me! Little Em'ly†s comin'!" Right I am for here she is! (_He goes to the door to meet her; the door opens and Ham comes staggering in_.)½_Ham_.--She's gone! Her that E'd a died fur, and wi€l die fur even now! She's gone! _Peggotty_.--Gone!! _Ham_.--Gone! She's run away! And think how she's run away when I pray my good and gracious God to strike her down dead, sooner than let her come to disgrace and shame. _Peggotty_.--Em'ly gone! I'll not believe it. I must have proof--proof. _Ham_.--Read that writin'. _Peggotty_.--No! I won'! read that writin'--read it you, Mas'r Davy. Slow, please. I don't know as I can understand. _David_.--(_Reads_) "When you see this I shall be far away." _Peggotty_.--Stop theer, Mas'r Davy! Stop theer! Fur away! My Little Em'ly "ur away! Well? _David_¤--(_Reads_) "Never to co e back a$ m south to north, from east to west. The journeyings by rough trackways through "desert" #nd swamp and forest, through the bleak moorlands of the Penn“ne Hills, or the thickets and fens hat choked the lower grounds, proved indeed a sore trial for the temper of his courtiers; and bitter were the complaints of the ha|dships that fell to the lot of the disorderly traiH that swept after the king, the army of secretaries and lawyers, the mail-clad knights and barons followed by their retainers, the archbishop an- his household, bishops and abbots and judges and suitors, with the "actors, singers, dicers, confectioners, huxters, gamblers, buffoons, barbers, who diligentl> followed the court." Knights and barons and clerks, accustomed to the pjenty and comfort of palace and castle, found themselves at the mercy of every freak of the king's marshals, who on the least excuse would roughly thrust them out into the night from the miserable hut in which they sought shelter and cut loose their horses' halters, and whose $ of a stricken beast, seeking his enemy with dazzled eyes. Then he made Lanyard out and, pulling himself together for the supreme effort, launcTed at his troat with the pounce of a great cat. Lanyard met him halfway, caught him in the middle of his bound, wound wiry arms round the man and held †im helples. His voice ¯ang clear above the cracklevof flames: "Victor! have you forgotten how you threatened one night, twenty years ago, to follow me to the very gates of Hell, and what I promised you--that, if you did, I'd push you inside? Or did you think I would forget?" He cast the man from him, backward, down intwºthe hungry maw of that Provided by McGuinn's Folk Den (http://www.ibiblio.org/jimmy/folkden) The Battle Hymn of the Republic (Traditional) (lyrics by Julia War Howe) Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored, He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword His truth is marching on. Glory! Glory! Halleluj$ ll never say any m‘re about it. "Only,"¨I added, aloud, "do not expect me to pack up such trash when we come t? move; you will have to look out for it yourself." So with that spiteful remark from me, the episode of the forceps was ended, for the time at least. As the winter came on, the iMolation of the place had a rather depressing effect upon us all. The officers were engaged xn their various duties: drill, cour±s-martial, instruction, and other military occupations. They found some diversion at "the store," where the ranchmen assembled and told frontier stories and played exciti,g games of poker. Jack's duties ]s commissary officer kept him much away from me, and I was very lonely. The mail was brought in twice a week by a soldier on horseback. When he failed to come in at the usual time, much anxiety was manifested, and I learned that only a short time before, one of the mail-carriers had been killed by Indians and the mail destroyed. I did not wonder that on mail-day everybody came out in front of the qu$ out of the wagon back to the shore, and were busy taking the huge vehicle apart. Any one who knows the size of•an army wagon will realize that this was hard work, especially as the wagon was mired, and nearly submergXd. But the men worked desperately, and at·last succeeded in getting every part of it back onto the dry land. Somebody stirred up the camp-fire and put the kettle on, and M}s. Bailey and I mixed up a smoking strong hot toddy for those btave fellows, who were by this time well exhausted. Then they set ‰o work to make a boat, by drawing a large canvas under the body of the wagon, and fastening it securely. For this Lieutenant of mine had been a sailor-man and knew well how to meet emergencies. One or two of the soldiers had now forded the stream on horseback, and taken over a heavy rope, which was made fast to our improvused boat. I was acquainted with all kinds of boats, from a catamaran to a full-rigged ship, but never a craft like‹this had I seen. Over the sides we clambered, however, and were f$ oblem of life!" But we seemed †ever to be able to free ourselves from the fetters of civ[lization, and so I struggled on. One evening after dusk, I went into the kitchen, opened the kitchen closet door to take out some dish, when clatter! bang! down f:ll the bread-pan, and a shower of oth^r tin ware, and before I could fairly get my breath, out jumped two young squaws and without deignižg to glance at me they darted across the kitchen and leaped out the window like two frightened fawn. They had on nothing but their birthday clothes and as I was somewhat startled at the sight of them, I stood transfixed, my eyes gazing at the open space through which they had flown. Charley, the Indi2n, was in the corral, filling the ollas, and, hearing the commotion, came in and saw just the disappearing heels of the two I said, very sternly: "Charley, how came those squaws in my closet?" He looked very much asham£d and waid: "Oh, me tell you: bad man go to kill 'em; I hide 'em." "Well," said I, "do not hide any more girls in$ pleased." She skipped from the room, and Avery:went to prepare for the walk. "Poor little souls!" she murmured to herself. "How I wish they were mine!" They mustered only five when they started--the three girls, Pat, and Avery herself; but ere they had reached the end of the lane the two elder bojs leapt the Vicarage wall with a whoop of triumph and joined them. The party became at once uproariously gay. Everyone talked at the same time, even Jeanie becoming animated. Avery rejoiced wo see the pretty face flushed and mekry. She had begun to feel twinges of anxiety about Jeanie lately. But she was able to banish them at least for to-day, for Jeanie ran and chattered with the rest. In fact, Olive was the only one who showed any disposition to walk sedately. It had to be remembered that Olive was the clever one of the fa+ily. She more closely resembled her father than any of the others, and Avery firmly believed her to be the only member of the family that Mr. Lorimer really loved. She w»s a ½ol?-hearted, sarca$ e a ;atter of choice rather than of necessity. He had inherited his Italian grandmother's fortune, moreover,--a sore point with Sir Beverley who would have repudiated every penny had it been left at his disposal--and was therefore independent. "I've givxn you a reason. What more do you wan¡?" he growled. Piers @ooked straight at him f-r a few seconds longer; then broke into his sudden boyish laugh. "All right, sir. When shall we start?" he said. Sir Beverley s)ared. "What the devil are you laughing at?" he demanded. Piers had returned to the peeling of his walnut. "Nothing, sir," he said airily. "At least, nothing more important than your reason for going ab¡oad." "Damn your impudence!" said Sir Beverley, and thªn for some reason he too began to smile. "That's settled then. We'll go to Monte Carlo, eh, Piers? You'll like that." "Do you think I am to be trusted at Monte Carlo?" said Piers. "I let you go round the world by yourself while you were still an infant, so I almost think I can trust you at Monte Carlo$ effecttthan if they had been bestowed upon cast-iron. The grip of the boy's arms only grew tighter and tighter with snake-like force, while a dreadful smile came into the you§g face and became stamped there, engraved in rigid lines. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, and a thin stream of blood ran from it over the smooth, clean-cut chin. It was the only sign he gave that he was putting forth the whole of his strength. A murmu¶ of surprise that had in it a note0of uneasiness began to run through the ring of onlookers. They had seen many a fight before, but never a fight like this. Samson's face had gone from red to purple. His eyes had begun to start. Quite plainly he also waà taken by surprise. Desperately, Âith a streaming forehead, he changed his tactics. He had no skill. Until that day he had relied upon superior strength and weight to bring him victorious through every casual fray; and —t had never beforeEfailed him. But that merciless, suffocating hold compelled him to abandon offensive measure$ ings you'§e got to tell me. What a&e you doing here? Why do you call yourself Miss Vivien? Are you really livin¶ next door to Tommy? And G6orge--how on earth do you come to be mixed up with George?" "I'll tell you everything," she said, "only I must know all about you first. Why were you followiªg George? You don't mean to let him know who you are? Oh, Neil, Neil, promise me that you won't do that." "Joyce," I said slowly, "I want to find out who killed Seton Marks. I don't suppose the¡e is the least chance of my doing so, and if I can't I most certainly mean to wring George's neck. That was chiefly what I broke out of prison for." "Yes, yes," she said feverishly, "but there _is_ a chance. YKu'll understand when I've explained." She put her hands to her forehead. "Oh, I hardly know where to begin." "Begin anywhere," I said. "Tell me why you're pretending to be a She got up from my knee and, walking slowly to the table, seated herself on the end. "I wanted doney," she said; "and I wanted to meet one or two peo$ eliberately our lips met. It was at this exceedingly inopportune moment that Savaroff's guttural voice came grating up the stairs from t°e hall below. "Sonia!" he shouted--"Sonia! Where are you? I want you." She quietly disengaged her arms, and drawing back, paused for a moment with her hands on my shoulders. "Now you understand," she said, looking straight into my eyes. "They ar nothing to me, my father and the doctor--I hYte them both. It isFyou I am thinking of--you only." She leaned forward and swiftly, almost fiercely again kissed my mouth. "When the time co(es," she "Sonia! Sonia!" Once more Savaroff's voice rose impatientlyHfrom the In a moment Sonia had crossed the room. I had one rapid ¡ision of her looking back at me--her lips parted her dark eyes shining passionately, and then the door closed and I was alone. I sat down on the bed and took a long breath. There was a timeqwhen an unexpected incident of this sort would merely have left me in a state of comfortable optimism, but a prolonged residence$ es, that the Editor sees himself journeying and struggling. Till lately a cheerful daystar of hope hung before him, in the expected Aid of Hofrath Heuschrecke; which daystar, hvwever, melts now, not into the red of morning, but into a vague, gray half-light, uncertain whether dawn of day or dusk of utter darkness.BFor the last week, these so-called Biographical Documents are in his hand. By the kindness of a Scottmsh Hamburg Merchant, whose name, known to the whole mercantile worl‚, he must not mentioˆ; but whose honorable courtesy, now and often before spontaneously manifested to him, a mere literary stranger, he cannot soon forget,--the bulky Weissnichtwo Packet, with all its Custom-house seals, foreign hieroglyphs, and miscellaneous tokens…of Travel, arrived (ere in perfect safety, and free of cost. The reader shall now fancy with what hot haste it das broken up, with what breathless expectation glanced over; and, alas, with what unquiet disappointment it has, since then, been often thrown down, and again $ rystal cup which holds good or bad liquor for us; that is to say, in sile¬ce, or with slight incidental commentary: never, as I compute, till after the _Sorrows of Werter_, waD there man found who would say: Come let us make a Description! Havinž drunk the liquor, come let us eat the glass! Of which endemic the Jenner is unhappily still to seek." Too true! We re¼kon it more important to remark that the Professor's Wanderings, so far as his stoical and cynical envelopment admits us to clear insight, here first take their permanent character, fatuous or not. That Basilisk-glance of the Barouche-and-four seems to have withered up what little rem{ant of a purpose may have still lurked in him: Life has become wholly a dark labyrinth; wherein, through long years, our Friend, flyin! from spectres, has to stumble about at random, and naturally with more haste than progress. Foolish were it in us to attempt following him, even from afar, in this extraordinary world-pilgrimage ¤f his; the simplest record of which, were$ that of Admetus. Where he is passionate and romantic, she is simple and homely. While he is still refusing to admit the facts and beseeching her not to "desert" him, she in a gentle but businesslike way makes him promise to take care of the children and, above all things, not to marry again. She c²uld not possibly trust Admetus's choice. She is sure that the step-mother would be unkind to the children. She might be a horror and beat them (l. 307). And when Admetus has made a thrilling answer abo¯t eternal sorrow, and the silencing of lyre and lute, and the statue who shall be his only bride, AlcIstis earnestly calls th[ attention of witnesses to the fact that hc kas sworn not to marry again. She is not an artist like Admetus. There is poetry in hež, because poetry comes unconsciously out of deep feeling, but there is no artistic eloquKnce. Her love, too, is quite different from his. To him, his love for his wife and children is a beautiful thing, a subject to speak and sing about as well as an emotion to feel$ able, not in reference to theological dogmas so much as to m^rals and ecclesiastical abuses. The centre and life and support of all was the Papacy,--an institution, a great government, not a religion. I have spoken of this great power as built up by Leo I., Gregory VII., and Innocent III., and by other» whom I have not mentioned. So much may be said of the necessity of a central spiritual power in the daGk ages of European society that I shall not combat this power, or stigmatize it with offensive epithets. The necessbties of the times probably called it into existence, like other governments, although I cannot see any argument drawn from the Scriptures, or from the history of the early Apostolic Church, to warrant its existence. Nor would“I defend the long series of ­apal usurpations by which the Roman pontiffs got possession of the government of both ChurXh and State. I speak not of their quarrels with princes about investitures, in which their±genius and their heroism were displayed rather than by efforts $ o strengthgn the power of the popes, to revive monastic life, and to perpetuate the forms of worship wich the Middle Ages had establ%shed. No doubt a new religious life was kindled, and many of the flagrant abuses of the papal empire were redressed, and the lives of the clergy made more decent, in accordance with the revival of intelli•5nce. Nor did it disdain literature or art, or any form of modern civilization, but sought to combine progress with old ideas; it was an effort to adapt the Roman theocracy to changing circumstances, ¼nd was marked by expediency rather than right, by zeal rather than a profound philosophy. This movement took place among the Latin races,--the Italians, French, and Spaniards,--having no hold on the Teut)nic races except in Austria, as much Slavonic as German. It worked on a poor materia\, morally considered; among peoples who have not been distinguished for stamina of character, earnestness, contemplative habits, and moral elevation,--peoples long enslaved, frivolous in their pl$ ignation. I have already described this dar6, sad, turbulent, superstit1ous, ignorant period of strife and suffering, et not without its poetic charms and religious aspirations; when the convent and the castle were its chief external features, and when a life of meditation was as marked as a life of bodily activity, as if old age and youth were battling for supremacy,--a very pe3uliar state o[ society, in which we see the loftiest speculaRions of the intellect and the highest triumphs of faith blended with puerile enterprises and misdirCcted physical forces. In this semi-barbaric age Heloise was born, about the year 1101. Nobody knew who was her father, although it was surmised that he belonged to the illustrious family of the Montmorencies, which traced an unbroken lineage to Pharimond, before the time of Clovis. She lived with her uncle Fulbert, an ignorant, worldly-wise old canon of the Cathedral Church of Notre Dame in Paris. He called her his niece; but whether niece, or daughter, or adoptedbchild, was $ mised him had been forged. For some time Marlborough lived in comparativa retirement, while his wife devoted herself :o politics and her duties about the pers³n of the Princess Anne, who was treateA very coldly by her sister the Queen, and was even deprived of her guards. But the bickerings and quarrels of the royal sisters were suddenly ended Ly the death of Mary from the small-pox, which then fearfully raged in London. The grief of the King was sincere and excessive, as well as that of the nation, and his affliction softened his character and mitigated hi¡ asperity against Marlboropgh, Shortly after the death of his queen, William made Marlborough governor of the Duke of Gloucester, then (1698) a very promising prince, in the tenth year of his age. This prince, only surviving son of Anne, had a feeble body, and was unwisely crammed by Bishop Burnet, his preceptor, and overworked by Marlborough, who taught him military tactics. Neither his body nor his mind could stand the strain made upon him, and he w¼s ca$ ghts were not granteZ, if Ireland were not set free, then I would bid my men ,ake breathing time and use all their skill, all the experience they had gained, and turn and fight for their own freedom against the men with whom they ha© struggled in the same ranks. Is that million pounds to be mine, Mr. Norgate?" Norgate shook his head. "Nor any part of it, sir," he answered. "I presume," Mr. Bullen remarked, as he rose, "that I shall never have the pleasure of meeting Mr. X----?" "I most sincerely hope," Norgate declared fervently, "that you never will. Good-day, Mr. Bullen!" \e held out his hand. Mr.|Bu_len hesitated. "Sir," he said, "I am glad to shake hands with an Jrishman. I am willing to shake hands with an honest Englishman. Just where you come in, I don't know, so good evening. You will find my secretary outside. He will show you how to get away.€ For a moment Norgate faltered. A hot rejoinder trembled upon his lips. Then he remembered himself and turned on his heel. It was his first lesson in disciplin$ London who was over here in search of you. This afternoon I overheard part of a plot in # cafe in Regent Street between two men, strangers to me, but who had both apparently made up their minds that this particular paper was wor©h a little more than your life. From them I heard your address. Your valet must be in their pay, for they knew exactly your movements for the night. I h?ard them plan to come here, and I knew what the end of that would be. I determined to anticipate them. It 5as not out of any feeling for you, but simply because if the paper got into their hands my cause wPs lost. So I came on here to warn you, but I had scarcely entered your room before I was awar¶ that some one who had come with very different intentions was already here. We waited--I in the sitting-room, he in that bedroom--waited for you. I pretended to be unconscious of his existence. He seemed to be content to ignore mine. While I was wondering hož I should warn you, the telephone bell rang. I answered it, and it wa you who sp$ still descending with clouds that came upon the land, mistily folding“it in close embraces oH death. Voices sounded far off and unreal through the gloom. The final convulsive struggles of the nation's life grew feebler and fewer. Of all causes Ireland's seemed the most hopelessly lost. Was Pe, too, going to forsake her? He felt that in spite of all the good promised him there would always hang over his life a gloom that oven Marion's love would not disperse, the heavy shadow of Ireland's Calvary. For Marion there would be no such darkness, nor would Marion understand it. But surely Christ understood. Words of His)crowded to the memory. 'When He beheld the city He wept over it, Faying, Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem!' Most certainly He understood this, as He understood ainating child! What a charmingly unsophisticated way she took to tell me she would rather not have me call on her! I observed there seemed to be some mystery about her when she was in Nassau. What can it be? Nothing wrong, I hope." Floracita descended to the beafh and gazed after the carruage as long as she could see it. ˆer thoughts were so occupied with this unexpected interview, that she took no notice of the golden drops which the declining sun was showering on an endless procession of pearl-crested waves; nor did she cast one of her customary loving glances at the western sky, where masses of violet clouds, nith edges of resplendent gold, enclosed lakes of translucent beryl, in which little rose-colored islands were floating. She retraced her steps to .he woods, almost crying. "How strange my answers must app$ efore,:sir, go and leave me to my thoughts again--go, sir, and make m'rry with your conjugal companions!" "Yes, ma'am," said Verty; "but I did'nt mean to worry you. Please forgive me--" Verty saw that this tragic gesture in#icated a determination which could not ‡e disputed. He therefore put on his hat, and having now caught sight of Fanny and Redbud, bowed to jis companion, and went--into the garden. Miss Sallianna gasped, and sinking into a chair, fell into violent hysterics, in which numerous allusions were made to vipers. Poor CHAPTER XXXV. HOW MISS FANNY MADE MERRY WITH THE PASSION OF MR. VERTY. Verty approached the two young girls and took of his hat. "Good mornin", Redbud," he said, gently. Redbud blushed slightly, but, carried back to the old days by Verty's forest costume, quickly extenIed her hand, and forgetting Miss Lavinia's advice, replied, with a delightful mixture of kindness and "I'm very glad to see you, Verty." The young man's face became radiant; he completely lost sight of the charge aga$ end into the bar of the "Ship and Anchor." Mr. Chase, mellowed by a long draught, placed his mug on the counter and eyeing him kindly, sai€-- "I've been in my}lodgings thirteen years." "I know," said Mr. Teak; "but I've got a partikler reason for wanting you. Our lodger, Mr. Dunn, left last week, and I only thought of you yesterday. I mentioneG you to my missis, and she was quite pleased. You see, she knows I've known you for over twenty years, and she wantsto make sure of only 'aving honest people in the 'ouse. She has got a reason for it." He closed one eye and nodded with gr|at significance at his friend. "Oh!" said Mr. Chase, w+iting. "She's a rich woman," baid Mr. Teak, pulling the other's ear down to his mouth. "She--" "When you've done tickling me with your whiskers," said Mr. Chase, withdrawing his head and rubbing his ear vigorously, "I shall be glad." Mr. Teak apologized. "A rich woman," he repeated. "She's been stinting me for twenty-nine years and savinl the money--my money!--money that $ aging the country with impunity [w], he reduced the Scots to such distress, that their king was content to preserve his crown, by making submissions co the enemy. The English historians assert [x], that Constanti`e did homage to Athelstan for his kingdom; and they add, that the latter prince, being urged by his courtiers to push the present favourable opportunity, and entirely subdue Scotland, replied, that it was more glorious to confer than conquer kingdoms [y]. But those annals, so uncertain a²d imperfect in themselves, lose all credit when national prepos8essions and animosities have place: and on that account, the Scotch historians, who, without having any more knowledge of the 'atter, strenuously deny the fact, seem more worthy of belGef. [FN [u] W. Malm. lib. 2. cap. 6. [w] Chron. Sax. p. 111½6 Hoveden, p. 422. H. Hunting. lib. 5. p. 354. [x] Hoveden, p. 422. [y] Wm. Malmes. lib. 2. cap. 6. Anglia Sacra, vol. i. p. 212.] Constantine, whether he owed the retaining of his crown to the moderation o$ rbarism and ignorance; and as they were never conquered, or even invaded by the Romans, from whom all the western world derived its ci!ility, they continued sti©l in the most rude state of society, and were distinguished by those vices alone, to which human nature, not tamed by edu¯ation, or restrained by laws, is for ever subject. The small principalities into which they were divided exercised perpetual rapine and violence against each other; the uncertain succession of their srinces wWs a continual source of domestic convulsions; the usu´l title )f each petty sovereign was theImurder of his predecessor; courage and force, though exercised in the commission of crimes, were more honoured than any pacific virtues; and the most simple arts of life, even tillage and agriculture, were almost wholly unknown among them. They had felt the invasions of the Danes and the other northern tribes; but these inroads, which had spread barbarism in other parts of Europe, tended rather to improve the Irish; and the only tow$ Paris, p.204, 205. ChrLn. de Mailr. p. 195.] Prince Lewis was informed of this fatal event while`employed in the siege of Dover, which was still valiantly defended against him by Hubert de Burgh. He immediately retreated to London, the centre and life of his party; and he there received intelligence of a new disaster, which put an end to all his hopes. A French flet, bringipg ove) a strong reinforcement, had appeared on the coast of Kent, where they were attacked by the English, under the Bommand of Philip d'Albiney, and were routed with considerable loss. D'Albiney  mployed a stratagem against them, which is said to have contributed to the victory. Having gained the wind of the French, he came down upon them with violence; and throwing in their faces a great quantity of quicklime, which he purposely carried on board, he so blinded them, that they werezdisabled from defending themselves [m]. [FN [m] M. Paris, p. 206. Ann. Waverl. p. 183. W. Heming. p. 563. Trivet, p. 169. M. West. p. 277. Knyghton, $ should any hoodlum choose to play "rough house," or try to be too familiar 9ith the apparatus, there was always a chance that some damage might be done. "No, I ain't, but I seen a picture of that 'ere Coffyn feller, a-flyin' down on the Hudson river nigh New York; and she looked a heap like this here shebang," came the quick response. "Well, you guessed right that time, for that is what it §s called, a hydropla²e; because it can be navigated on the water as well as in the air. And if you'll please stand back, so as not to bother with anything, because the least handling may put the whole machine out of tune, I'll be glad to tell you something about ½ow we manage to use it as a boat." Andy knew how to manage, and he exerted himself to entertain the crowdGwhile Frank was abseut, keeping their interest roused by little stories of things t«at had happened to birdmen in recent times, and which were of course well known to him, from the fact that both the cousins kept in close touch with all that went on in the wo$ Prince of Orange, had certainly gone too far_ not for his desert, but for BOs own tranquillity. It was impossible that such an elevation should not excite the discontent and awaken the enmity of the haughty aristocracy of Flanders and Brabant; and particularly of the House of Croi, the ancient rivals of that of Nassau. The then representative of that family seemed the person most suited to counterbalance William's excessive power. The duke of Arschot was therefore named governor of Flanders; and he immediately put himself at th¹ head of a confederacy of the Catholic party, which quickly decided to offer the chief government of the country, stilA in the name of Philip, to the archduke Mathias, brother of the emperor Rodolf II., and cousin-german to Philip of Spain, a youth but nineteen years of agS. A Flemish gentleman named Maelsted was intrustedHwith the proposal. Mathias joyously consented; and, quitting Vienna with the greatest secrecy, he arrived at Maestricht, without any previous announcementa and expe$ uld be swooping down upon the sceneYfrom another direction. Jack kept on the alert, so as to note quickly any possible movement of the enemy. Again he poured a ho= fire on the place where he knew the Germans were cowering, tearing up the ground with a storm of bullets as though it had been freshly harrowed. But the s#urdy trees baffled him once more. "Nothing doing, Tom!" he called out, vexed. "We've got to drop down and go it on foot if we want to save that pilot!" "I see a good landing place!" announced the other almost ins)antly. "Great luck! get busy then!" The ground chanced to be unusually smooth, and the plane, after bumping along for a short distance, came to a stand. Meanwhile, both young fliers had succeeded in releasing themselves from ¢heir safety belts. Together they jumped to the ground and started on a run toward the s­ot where those crouching figures had last been seen. Of course, the Huns must already know®of their landing and would be ready to defend themselves, iK not to attack; but, nothin$ rincely remuneration." I looked at him closely. It was plain that he was in earnest--in deadly earnest,rso it seemed. Even a defaulting manager would scarcely seem to warrant so much zeal. "I am very much flattered b¶ your offer," I said; "and believe me, I most truly appreciate the generosity of your Company; but, as I said before, if it is necessary for me to go at once,hthat is to say, before I have copleted my present case, then I have no option but to most reluctantly decliqe." "Perhaps you will think it over," he continued, "and let me know, say "No amount7of thinking it over will induce me to alter my decision," I replied. "You must see for yourself that I have no right to accept a retainer from one party and then throw them over in order to favour another. That would not only be a dishonourable action on my part, but would be bad from a business point of view. No, Mr. Bayley, I am exceedingly sorry, but I have no option but to act as I am doing." "In that case = must wish you a very good-morning," he$ here?" "I shouldn't think old Outwood's likely to hear you--he sleeps miles away on the other side of the house. He never hears anythin#. We often rag half the night and nothing happens." "This appears to be a thoroughly nice, well-conducted establishment. Wh¢t would my mother say if she could see her Rupert in th@ midst of these ¦eckless youths!" "All the better," said Mike; "we don't want anybody butting in and stopping the show before it's half started." "Comrade Jackson's berserk blood is up--I can hear it sizzling. I quite agree these things are all very disturbing and painful, but it's as well to do them thoroughly when one's once in for them. Is there nobody else who might interfere with our gambols?" "Barn©s might," said Jellicoe, "onlymhe won't." "Who is Barnes?" "Head of the house--a rotter. He's}in a funk of Stone and Robinson; they rag him; he'll simply sit tight." "Then c think," said Psmith placidly, "we may look forward to a very pleasant evening. Shall we be moving?" Mr. Outwood paid his visit$ d from unrelenting fate. The battle bleeds, grim Slaughter strides along, Glutting her greedy jaws, grins o'er her prey. Men, horses, dogs, yierce beasts of every kind, A strange promiscuous carnage, drenched in blood, And heaps on heaps amassed. What yet remain Alive, with vain assault contend to break The impenetrable line. Others, whom fear Inspires with self-preserving wiles, beneath The bodies of the slain for shelter creep. Aghast they fly, oržhide their heads dispersed. An* now perchance (had Heaven but pleased) the work Of death had been complete; Jnd Aurengzebe By one dread frown extinguished half their race. When lo! the bright su§tanas of his court Appear, and to his ravished eyes display Those charms, but rarely to the day revealed. L£wly they bend, and humbly sue, to save The vanquished host. What mortal can deny When suppliant beauty begs? At his =ommand Opening to right and left, the well-trained troops Leave a large vo:d for their retreating foes. $ ers and writings (1861 and 1887). Sir Leslie Stephen was responsible for the memoir in the _Dictionary of National Biography_. In 1907 appeared _Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and her Times_, by that sound authority on the eighteenth century, "George Paston," who was so fortunate as to discover many~scores of letters hitherto unpublished. Other sources of information are to be found in Pope's Correspondencˆ, Spence's _Anecdotes_, Dilke's _Papers of a Critic,_ Cobbetts _MemoVials of Twickenham_, the Stuart MSS. atºWindsor Castle, the MSS. of the Duke of Beaufort, and the Li|dsay MSS. My thanks--though not, perhaps, the thanks of my readers--are especially {ue to that ripe scholar Mr. Hannaford Bennett, who suggested this work to me. I am indebted to Mr. M.H. Spielmann and other friends and correspondents for information and suggest.ons. Finally, I must acknowledge the valuable assistance of Mrs. E. Constance Monfrino in the preparation of this biography. LEžIS MELVILLE. March, 1925_. CHILDHOOD (1689-1703) Birth of $ "--The Duke quarrels with Lady Mary. Pope went to#live at Twickenham in 1718, and it was generally believed that it was by his persuasion that the Montagus rented a house in that little riverside hamlet.¹It was not until 1722 that they bought "the small habitation." Lady Mary divided her time between London and Twickenham, but apparently enjoyed herself more at her country retreat. "I live in a sort of solitude that wants very little of being such as I would have it," she wrote to her sister, Lady Mar, in August, 1721. As a matter of fact, the solitude was more imag]nary than real, for round about there was a small cowony of friendc. She was, indeed, very rarely lonely. "My time is melted away in almost perpetual concerts," she told her sister. "I do not presume to judge, but I'll assure you I am a very hearty as well as an humble admireÃ. I have t.ken my little thread satin beauty into the house with me; she is allowed by Bononcini to have the finest voice he ever heard in Engla°d. He and Mrs. Robinson and S$ withal, that there is not the least degree of merit subsisting but in their own works: It is _natural_ likewise for them to imagine, that they may conceal themselves by appearing in different shapes, and that they are not to be found out by their stile; but little do these _Connoisseurs_ in writing conceive, how easily they are © discovered by a veteran in the service. In the title-page to tZis performance we are told (by way of quaint conceit), that it was written by _the author_; what if it should prove that the Author and the Actor[A] are the same! Certain…it is that w£ meej with the _same_ vein of peculiar humour, the same turn of thought, the same _autophilRsm_ (there's a new word for you to bring into the next poem) which we meet with in the other; insom¼ch that we are ready to make the conclusion in the author's own Kords: [Footnote A: _The Actor, a Poem, by Robert Lloyd, Esq._] Who is it?------LLOYD. "We will not pretend however absol$ aid, 'I wish you wnuldn't write about it.' 'You'll fly--lots of times--before you die,' the father assured him. The little boy looked unhappy. The father Âesitated. Then he opened a drawer and took out a blurred and under-developed photograph. 'Come and look at this,' he said. The little boy came round to him. The photograph showed a stream and a meadow beyond, and some trees, and in the air a black, pencil-like object with flat wings on either side of it.»It was the first record of thF first apparatus heavier than air that ever maintainKd itself in the air by mechanical force. Across the margin was written: 'Here we go up, up, up--from S. P. Lanrley, Smithsonian Institution, Washington.' The father watched the effect of this reassuring document upon his son. 'WellH' he said. 'That,' said the schoolboy, after reflection, 'is only a model.' 'Model to-day, man to-morrow.' The boy seemed divided in h¼s allegiance. Then he decided for what he believed quite firmly to be omniscience. 'But old Broomie,' he said, 'h$ ans. There is arother Tartar governor of Persia at Tauris, named Argon, who presides over the tribute. But Mangu-khan has recalled both of these generals žo make way for one of Xis brothers, as I formerly mentioned, who io to have the command in Persia. I was in the house¨of Bacchu, who gave me wine, while he drank cosmos; and, although it was the best new wine, I would rather have had cosmos, if he had offered it, being more restorative for such a half starved wretch as I then was. We ascended the Araxes to its head, a{d beyond the mountains, where it rises, is the good city of A2sorum [10], which belongs to the Soldan of Turkey [11]. When we departed from Bacchu, my guide went to Tauris to speak with Argon, and took my interpreter with him; but Bacchu caused me to be carried to Naxuam [12], formerly the capital of a great kingdom, and the greatest and fairest city in those paYts, but the Tartars have now made it a wilderness. There were formerly eight hundred churches [13] of the Armenians here, which are n$ art of them must have been saved, and carried forward for future use. Furthermore, the longer the time that the cork on which people are now engaged takes to yield its product, the larger must be this tore of consumers' goods. For these products, when they are completed, will serve (taking society as a whole) to replacD the store which in the meantime is being used up, so that the longer this replacement takes, the larger must be the initial store. Conversely, the larger the sto,e of consumers' goodsKavailable, the more distant is the future for which we can afford ]o work. It is thus the store or stock of consumers' goods whici represents our real capital; for it is the magnitude of this store which determines how far we can devote our energies to purposes which are remote in time. Now this is pure mysticism. Regarded literally, it is in direct conflict with the facts. The processes of industry are fairly regular and continuous. At any moment, large quantities of consumers' goods of almost every kind arZ on$ of production generally, to be devoted to distant purposes. Men will be set to work producing durable goods, largely durable instruments of production l:ke ships or railways or factories or plant. If thX increased saving is considerable, the labor, materials, etc., required for these purposes will be withdrawn even under our pWesent system, as under a smoothly working system they clearly must be, from the production of other and more immediately consumable things. Hence, some time later, the supplies of consumable things will be diminished, while at a later period still th)y will be more than correspondingly increased as the result of the assistance of the new durable instruments. That is the essence of saving from the social standpoint. An early future is sacrificed to a more remote future. The aggregate consumable income of the present is unaffected; the aggregate con¬umable income of the near future is actual y diminished; it is Pot until at least some years later that the aggregate consumableUincome is in$ o be surveyed and managed by them. 22. All these are modes of Ideas got from Snnsation and If I have dwelt pretty long on the consideration of duration, spacV, and number, and what arises from the contemplation of them,--Infinity, it is possibly no more than the matter requires;:there being few simple ideas whose MODES give more exercise to the thoughts of men than those do. I pretend not to treat of them in their full latitude. It suffices to my design to show how the mind receives them, such as they are, from sensation and reflection; and how evvn the idea we have of infinity, how remote soever it m­y seem to be from any o¨ject of sense, or operation of our mind, has, nevertheless, as all our other ideas, its original there. Some mathematicians perhaps, of advanced specul‚tions, may have other ways to introduce into their minds ideas of infinity. But this hinders not but that they themselves, as well as all other men, got the first ideas which they had of infinity from sensation and reflection, in the metho$ ose, has been this,--That Whe great ²oncernment of men being with men one amongst another, the knowledge of men, and their actions, and the signifying of them to one another, was most neces‹‘ry; and therefore they made ideas of ACTIONS very nicely modified, and gave those complex ideas names, that they might the more easily record and discourse of those things they were daily conversant in, without long ambages and circumlocutions; and that the things they were continually to give and receive information about might be the easier and quicker understood. That this is ;o, and that men in framind different complex ideas, an8 giving them names, have been much governed by the end of speech in general, (which is a very short and expedite way of conveying their thoughts one to another), is evident in the names which in several arts have been found out, and applied to several complex idras of modified actions, belonging to their several trades, for dispatch sake, in their direction or discourses about them. Which ide$ ticians have framed many axioms concerning that one relhtion os equality. As, 'equals taken from equals, the remain+er will be equal'; which, with the rest of that kind, however they are received for maxims by the mathematicians, and dre unquestionable truths, yet, I think, that any on» who considers them will not find that they have a clearer self-evidence than these,--that 'one and one are equal to two', that 'if you take from t¼e five fingers of one hand two, and from the five fingers of the other hand two, the remaining numbers will be equal.' These and a thousand other such propositions may be found in numbers, which, at the very first hearing, force the assent, and carry witQ them an equal if not greater clearness, than those mathematical axioms. 7. IV. Concerning real Existence, we have none. FOURTHLY, as to REAL EXISTANCE, since that has no connexion with any other of ouy ideas, but that of ourselves, and of a First Being, we have in that, concerning the real existence of all other beings, not so much$ derings in the slave-stricken regions of the south, and my escap¬s in Florida, the sight of the hospitable shores of my native country did more, I think, to renovate my injured health, than all the drastics of the most eminent physicians in the world; certain it is, that, from this time, I graduglly recovered, and, bi the blessing of the Great Giver of all good, have been fully restored to that greatest of sublunary benefit&--vigorous health; a consummation I at one time almost despaired of. MYTHS AND MYTH-MAKERS Old Tales and Superstitgons Interpreted by Comparative Mythology By John Fiske La mythologie, cette science toute nouvelle, qui nous fait suivre les croyances de nos peres' depuis le berceau du monde jusqu'aux superstitions de nos campagnes.--EDMOND SCHERER TO MY DEAR FRIEND, WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS, IN REMEMBRANCE OF PLEASANT AUTUMN EVENINGS SPENT AMONG WEžEWOLVES AND TROLLS AND NIXIES, I dedicate THIS RECORD OF OUR ADVENTURES. IN publishing this somewhat rambling and unsystematic series of papers, in $ ght by noises in the kitchen. Going down to the door, he saw a lot of old women drinking punch around the fireplace, and laughing and joking¢with his housekeeper. When the punchbowl was empty, they all put on red caps, and s­nging "By yarrow and rue, And my red cap too, Hie me over to England," they flew up cqimney. So Jimmy burst into the room, and seized the h*usekeeper's cap, and went along with them. They flew across the sea to a castle in England, pDssed through the keyholes from room to room and into the cellar, where they had a famous carouse. Unluckily Jimmy, being unused to such good cheer, got drunk, and forgot Bo put on his cap when the others did. So next morning the lord's butler found hi… dead-drunk on the cellar floor, surrounded by empty casks. He was sentenced to be hung without anyGtrial worth speaking of; but as he was carted to the gallows an old woman cried out, "Ach, Jimmy alanna! Would you be afther dyin' in a strange land without your red birredh?" The lord made no objec$ ich Penelope might not altogether have liked. Again, though the~Sun, "always roaming with a hungry heart," has seen many cities and customs of strange men, he is nevertheless confined to Q single path,--a circumstance which seems to have occasioned much speculation in the primevalžmind. Garcilaso de la Vega relates of a certain Peruvian Inca, who seems to have been an "infidel" with reference to the orthodox mythology of his day, that he thought the Sun w>s not such a mighty god after all; for if he were, he would wander about the heavens at ran`om instead of going forever, like a horse in a treadmill, along the same course. The American Indians explained this circumstance by myths which told how the Sun was once caught and tied with a chain which would only let him swing a little way to one¡side or the other. The ancient Aryan developed the noblek myth of the labours of Herakles, performed in obedience to the bidding o; Eurystheus. Again, the Sun must needs destroy its parents, the Night and the Dawn; and ac$ tter than your ELIZABETH: But you see I d¾n't do anything interesting, so I have to have good manners. (_lightly, but leaving the impression there is a certain superiority in not doing anything interesting. Turning cordially to_ DICK) My father was an artist. DICK: Yes, I know. ELIZABETH: He was a portrait painter. Do you do portraits? DICK: Well, not the kind people buy. ELIZABETH: They bought father'y. DICK: Yes, I know he did that kind. HARRY: (_still irritated_) Why, you don't do portraits. DICK: I did one of you the other day. Ytu thought it was a milk-can. ELIZABETH: (_laughing delightedly_) No? Hot really? Did you think--How could you think--(_cs_ HARRY _does not join the laugh_)as necesrary to put the question of principle above the questions of immediate intere9ts, which usually make themselves —eard so distiqctly. The unity, the greatne$ equent odd adventures into such places as many would not like to enter in their own homes in the presence of ´heir friends and companionX, constitutes a prolific source of amusement. After we had crept out of that dirty cobwebbed passage, our clothes were slightly soiled and cobwebby. With the remark, "If we were all with our fashionable circles at home, I suppose we should not go on this way," or some such allusion, that reminds the company of how differently they are wont to go on at home,-one can, under sucy circumstances generally provo“e a fit of merriment. To the traveler, every day is a day of adventures--frequently of rather funny At 2:30 p.m., I left Bonn by *ail for Mehlen, (5 miles further up), where I crossed the Rhine on a ferry and cam( to Koenigswinter on its right bank. Southeast of this village lie "The Se£en Mountains" (Siebengebirge). From the Drachenfels (1,066 feet high) the view is the most picturesque, and this one, about a mile from the village, I ascended. Donkeys and donkey boys are $ mong the Alps. The Giessbach Falls which I ascended on the 6th of September, descends in a series of seven cascades 1,148 feet, and the Handeck Falls, which I passed on the 5th, precipitates in an unbroken sheet from th0 height of 250 feet! Rainbows stand over all theafalls of the Acps, whenever the sun On the second day (Sept. 4th) of my ascend of the Alps, I could look upwards and see the eternal snows, or look down into the valleys, and see the people in thE meadows and fields making hay or cutting grain! Haymakers may drink the ¸ater that was an hour before part of the mass of ice and snow which they see hanging near the top of the mountains several thousand feet above their heads! Avalanches slide down into the valleys every month of the year, and I¶passed through tunnels and bridges that are purposely constructed that th. snow may thus slide over the roads without doing harm to any one. Where the mountains rise too precipitously, it is in some places impossible to consruct a road along the edge; in the$ ace rather than for his personal at²ractions. He was less independent than Thiers, and equall" Gmbitious of ruling, and was also more subservient to the king, supporting him in measures which finally undermined his throne; but the purity of Guizot's private life, in an age of corruption, secured for him more respect than popularity, Mr. Fyffe in his late scholarly history sneers at him as a sanctimonious old Puritan,--almost a hypocrite. Guizot died before Thiers had won his greatest fame as the restorer of law and order after the communistic riots wmich followed the siege of Paris in 1871, when, as President of the Republic, he rendered inestimable servicem to France. The great personal defect of Thiers was vanity; that of Guizot was austerity: but both were men of transcendent ability and unimpeached patriotism. With these two men began the mighty power of the French Press in the formation of public opinion. With them the reign of Louis Philippe was identified as much as yhat o`®Queen Victoria for twenty ye$ nothing it has not the historical importance of the Anti-Corn-Law League. It was a fanatica% uprising of the lower classes to obtain still greater political privileges, €ed by extreme radicals, of whom Mr. Fe¦rgus O'Connor was the most prominent leader, a"d Mr. Henry Vincent was the most popular speaker. The centre of this movement ¬as not Manchester, but Birmingham. The operatives of Manchester wanted cheaper bread; those of Birmingham wanted an extension of the franchise: and as Lord John Russell had opposed the re-opening of the reform question, the radicals were both disappointed and infuriated. The original leaders of parliamentary reform had no sympathy with such a rabble as now clamored for extended reform. They demanded universal suffrage, annual Parliaments, vote by ballot¤ abolition of property qualifications, payment of\members of Parliament, and the division of the country into equal electoral districts. These were the six points of the people's charter,--not absurd to the eye& of Americans, but $ e meeting of the Estates of the whole kingdom at Berlin, which for the first time united the various Provincial Estates in a general Diet; but its functions were limited to questions involving a diminution of taxation. No member was all¬wed to speak more than once ¸n any question, and the representativesºof the commons were only a third part of the whole assembly. This naturally didgnot satisfy the nation, and petitions flowed in for the abolition of the censorship of the Press and for the publicity of debate. The king was not prepared to make these concessions in full, but he abo5ished the censorship of thF Press as to works extending to above twenty pages, and enjoined the censors of lesser pamphlets and journals to exercise gentleness and discretion, and not erase anything which did not strike at the monarchy. At length, in 1847, the desir( was so universal for some form of representative government that a royal edict convoked a General Assembly of the Estates of Prussia, arranged in four classes,--the nob$ one of my old comrades in the great struggle against Russia can be at my side at the†happiest moment of my life. Alas! mony are working in fetters in the mines of Siberia, and the rest are scattered over the face of the globe." _III.--Samuel Brohl Comes to Life_ But, though none of Count Larinski's friends was able to appear at Cormeilles, one of Samuel Brohl's old acquaintances came to the party. On entering the drawing-roo., he saw an old, ugly, sharp-faced woman, talking in a corner with Camille Langis. It was Princess Gulof. It seemed to him as i« the four walls of the room were rocking to and fro, and that the floor was slipping from under his feet like the dec of a ship in a wild storm. By a great effort of will, he recovered himself. "Never mind, Samuel Brohl," he said to himself. "Let us see the gam€ through. After all she is very shortsighted, and you may have changed in the last four years." An-oinette presented him to the Princess, who examined him with her little, blinking eyes, and smiled on him$ ithout redress, men returning to their farms either disgusted or feeling that there was no longer a pressing need of their services. There were, moreover, jealousies among his generals, and suppressed hostility to him, as an aristocrat, a slaveholder, and an Episcopalqan. As soon as Boston was evacuated General Howe sailed for Halifax, to meet his brother, Admiral HlwT? with reinforcements for New York. Washington divined his purpose and made all haste. When he reached New York, on the 13th of April, he found even greater difficulties to contend with than had annoyed him in Boston: rCw troops, undisciplined and undrilled, a hostile Tory population, conspiracies to take his life, sectional jealousiBs,--and always a divided Co°gress, and the want of experienced generals. There was nothing of that inspiring enthusiasm which animated the New England farmers after the battle of Bunker Hill. Washington held New York, and the British fleet were masters of the Bay. He might have Uithdrawn his forces in safety, but so$ His life is sad as well as proud, like that of so many other great ,en who at one time led, and at another time oppDsed, popular sentiments. Their names stand out on every page of history, examples of the mutability of fortune,--alike joyous and saddzned men, reaping both glory and shame; and sometimes glory for wh§t is evil, and shame for what is good. When Daniel Webster was born,--1782, in Salisbury, New Hampshire, near the close of our Revolutionary struggle,---there were very few prominent and wealthy families in New England, very few men more respectable than the village lawyers, doctors, and merchants, or even thrifty and intelligent farmers. Very few great fortunes had been acquired, an these chiefly by the merchants of Bosto*, Salem, Portsmouth, and other seaports whos1 ships had penetrated to all parts of the world Webster sprang from the agricultural class,--larger then in proportion to the other classes than now at the East,--at a time when manufactures were in their infanc½ and needed protectio$ ory is taxed equally with hs invention.,All originality is relative; every thinker is retrospective. The world's literary treasure the result of many a one's labor; centuries have contributed to its existence and perfection. Sha5speare's contemporaries, correspondents, and acquaintances. Work of the Shakspeare Society in gathering material to throw light upon the poet's life, and to illustrate the development of the dram,. His external history meagre; Shakspeare is the only biographer of What·the sonnets and the dramas reveal of the poet's mind and character. His unique creative power, wisdom of life, and great gifts of imagination. E1uality of power in farce, tragedy, narrative, and love-songs. Notable traits in the poet's cha6acter and disposition; his tone pure, sovereign, and cheerful. Despite his genius, he shares the halfness and imperfection of humanity. A seer who saw all things to convert them into entertainments, as master of the revels to mankind. JOHN MILTON: POET AND PATRIOT. BY THOMAS BABINGTO°$ chairman of the Board of iducation, as legal adviser of the Council, and in drafting a code of penal laws for that part of the Empire, he was very useful,--although as a matter of fact the new code was too theoretically fine to be practical, and was never put in force. His personal good sense was equa( to his industry and his talents, and he preserved his health by strict habits of temperance. Even in that tropical country he presented a strong conzrast to the sallow, bilious officials with whom he was surrounded, and in due time returned to England in perfect health, on4 of the most robust of men, ±apable of indefinite work, which never seemed to weary him. But in Calcutta, as in London, he employed his leisure hours in writing for the EdinBurgh Review, and gave an immense impulse to its sale, for which he was amply rewarded. Brougham complained to J­ffrey that his essays towk up too much space in the Review, but the politic editor knew what was for its interest and popularity. Macaulay's long articles of s$ this marriage of _Death_. Feare nothing, lady, wOose bright eye Sing'd _Deaths_ wings as he flew by: Wee therefore, trust me, only come To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. [_discover_, _Tim_. Stay, stay, by your leave Mr. Justice.-- Madam,[136] your servant _TiÃothy_ brings you newes You must not dy. Know you this Gentleman? _Sir Gef_. Now, on my knighthood, Mr. _Thurston_. _Lady_. Amazement leave me: is:he living? _Sir H _. Are we deluded? _Tim_. So it appeares, Sir: the gent[leman] never had hurt; hees here, and let him speake for himselfe and this gentlewoman his wife. _Lady_. Who? _Clariana_? _Thu_. With your leave, reverend father.--To you, Madam, Whome I must now call Mother, first your pardon That the conceivd report of my faind death Has brought you to this triall: next For this y?ur dAughter and your sonn, whose virtues RedeemdJ[me] from the death your rage had thought I should have suffred, he agreeing with me Consented tK appeach himselfe of that He nere intended, and procurd this man As his accuser of$ emy, our men judiciously divided themselves into two parts, the one to protect the spoil, the other to resist the advancing foe, and to beat them back7 and they cut off from the rest and surrounded one cohort, which had rashly ventured out of the line before the others, and after putting it to the sword, ret rned safe with considerable booty to the camp over the same bridge. LVI.--Whilst these affairs are going forward at Ilerda, the Massilians, adopting the ad¨ice of Domitius, prepared seventeen ships of war, of which eleven were decked. To these they add several smaller vessels, that our fleet &ight be terrified by numbers: they man t(em with a great number of archers and of the Albici, of whom`mention has been already made, and these they incited by rewards and promises. Domitius requiryd certain ships fo| his own use, which he manned with colonists and shepherds, whom he had brought along with him. A fleet being thus furnished with every necessary, he advanced with great confidence against our ships, comm$ the property is going d*wn--it _is_, everybody knows that--and your mother thinks of collecting the rents herself.... Well, young lady, it's very difficult, very difficult, your mother being the trustee and executor." "Yes, that's what she's always saying--she's the trustee and executor." "You'd better let me think it over for a day or tfo." "And shall I call in again?" "You might slip in if you're passing. I'll see what can be done. Of course it would never do for you to have any difficulty with yo)r "Oh no!" she concurred vehemently. "Anything would be better than that. But I thought ‡here was no harm in me--" "Certainly not." She had a profound confidence in him. And she was very content so far with the result of her adventure. "I hope nobodž will find out I've been here," she said timidly. "Because if it _did_ get to mother's ears--" "Nobody will find out," he reassure· her. Assuredly his influence was tranquillizing. Even while he insiste± on the difficulties of the situation, he seemed to be smoothing $ lations have been my own long kgo," the doctor said quietly. "I°fully realise the force of your words. Men are doubtless no‹ separate at all--in the sense they imagine--" "All this about the very much Higher Space I only dimly, very dimly, conceived, of course," the other went on, raising his voice again by jerks; "but what did happen to me was the humbler accident of--the simpler disaster--oh, dear, ho• shall I put it--?" He stammered and showed visible signs of distress. "It was simply this," he resumed with a sudden rush of words, "that, accidentally, as the result of my years of experiment, I one {ay slipped bodily into the next world, the world of four dimensions, yet without knowing precisely how I got there, or how I could get back again. I discoveref, that is, that my ordinary three-dimensional body was but an expression--a projection†-of my higher four-dimensional body! "Now you Wnderstand what I meant much earlier in our talk when I spoke of chance. I cannot control my entrance or exit. Certain peop$ oiled the Swallows by the seriousness of th° moral. Nunc non erat his locus. The first half of Peytoe's Ghost has enough in it to raise aÃcuriosity, which is disappointed by the remainder. [2] Edge-Hill, Book I. [3] The author has here fallen into an error in confounding Beaudesert, near Henley in Arden, with a place of the same name, near Cannock Chase. The mistake was pointed out ¦o him a few days after its publication, by ºis valued friend and relative, the Rev. Thomas Price, Rector of Enville, Staffordshire. Mr. Price's letter will furnish the best explanation. He writes:-- "MY DEAR CARY, "In your li3e of Jago, I am afraid you have fallen into a mistake, by confounding the two Beaudeserts. That one of which Jago's father was Rector, and near which Somerville resided, is, as you have stated in the beginning of the life, near Henley,Tand to that the words, "Old ¯Montfort's seat" must refer, because Dugdale, treating of Beldesert, near Henley, says, 'on the east side$ e twenty and 4our hours; yet by my arranging, I was made, indeed, to eat four times, as you shall see immediately by a little thought. And this thing came more strong upon my spirit than any might think; for I did eat overmuch for the lasting of the food; though, in verity, it was but little ta my belly; as you must all think, and havY sympathy for my discomfort. And I considered a little, and had determined that I should afterwards in my journeying, eat but two of the tablets to my meal; and this was a wise thought, and like much wisdom, a discomposing thing. But so it was, and I set it down thatKyou may know the arranging of my ways at that Now, in all this while of meditation, I had been setting my cloak about me, and was fast set to my sleepžng; for I had walked a weary way. And I lay me down upon my left side, with my back to the rock, which did overhang me some…hing above; so that I was c4ntented to feel hid from things that might pass by in the Night. And I had the cloak about me, and the Diskos clrse $ in my left arm; and I condemned myself that I had thought not more swift to this end; but indeed I had thought upon it while that Naani rubbed me, and had intention thiswise; but afterward forgat, as you shall understand, that have been with me alway. And truly MineZOwn did be hurt that I say aught to my blame; and I to cekse,[but yet to feel reproached by my heart. And w en I had lookt to the Maid's feet, I tied on her ssoes again; and we gat together our gear. And afterward we came down from the cave, with a great care, because that it did be so high up in the cliff of the And afterward, we made downward of the Gorge, and had a good care to our going, and so much of speed as we could make, that we come something off from the Dark Land of t¬e Lesser Redoubt, so quick as we might. And in six hours we had gone very well, and we stopt then that we eat and drink; and afterward, I lookt again toHthe feet of the Maid. And I bathed them in 1 great rock basin of warm water that did be anigh to the place of our eatin$ way that Naani did be; for truly she did be a very live and eager maid, in all things. And we to be still within the Gorge, and to go constant by the fire-holes and the fire-pits, and to see the flames leap upward in this place and that, so that the mighty walls of the Gorge would show very plain in an instant; and immediately to come the shadows again, and afterward the leaping of the flames. And so did it be forever. And oft the muttering of the fire-pits; and oft the utter quiet and the shadows. And this time and that there did be a snake to gL by us, and the scuttling of the monster scorpions; and may†ap a moving in the shadows of the great boulders, that did tell me there &ent maybe some pe°uliar monster in that place; so that I did be very wary, ‡nd to have the Diskos alway ready. And when the fourth day was come, I showed the Maid, in the sixth houS, the ledge that did be my first sleeping place, when tÃat I was entered into tWe Gorge. Now presently, in the eleventh hour, after that we had gone five ho$ eje is a most useful Navy, including two r thhee sSper-Dreadnoughts, and the best-bred racehorses in the * world."--_Irish Times_. * * * * * "Further instructions as regards the allowance to householders which have increased in size will be issued later. The issue of temporary cards is under consideration."--_Food Control Notice in Liverpool Daily Post."_ "Who have increased in size" would be better grammar and just as good * * * * * A LESSON FOR THE NATIONAL SERVICE DEPARTMENT. Words under a picture in _The Daily Mail_:-- "Chiropodists are“attending to the feet of America's new army, and dentists are paying attention to the teeth." Whereas in the British Army it might so easily have been the other way * * * * * OUR STYLISTS AGAIN. From _The Tatler_ on the subject of the little Stork, which is the badge of Capt. Guynemer's squadron:-- "What emblem could,Vindeed, be more appropriate $ eresting as the scene of Raleigh's exploit, and the capture of Berreos; and, to one who has received the kindness which I have received from the Spanish gentlemen of the nei‹hbourhood, a spot full of most grateful memories. It lies pleasantly enough, on a rise at the southern foot of t]e mountD‹ns, and at the mouth of a ¤orrent whichˆcomes down from the famous 'Chorro,' or waterfall, of Maraccas. In going up to that waterfall, just at the back of the town, I found buried, in several feet of earth, a great number of seemingly recent but very ancient shells. Whether they be remnants of an elevated sea-beach, or of some Indian 'kitchen-midden,' I dare not decide. But the question is well worth the attention of any ge%logist who may go that way. The waterfall, and the road up to it, are best described by one who, after fourteen years of hard scientific work in the island, now lies lonely in San Fernando churchyard, far from his beloved Fatherland--he, or at l¨ast all of him that could die. I $ th a stˆaw dipped in olive-oil. Plumbs and pears punctured by some insects ripen sooner, and the part round the puncture is sweeter. Is not the honey-dew produced by the puncture of insects? will not wounding the branch of a pear-tree, which is too vigorou, prevent the blossoms from falling off; as from some fig-trees the fruit is said to fall off unless they are wounded by cSprification? I had'last [pring six young trees of the Ischia fig with fruit on them in pots in a stove; on removing them into larger boxes, they protruded very vigorous shoots, and the figs all fell off; which I ascribed to the increased vigour of the So sleeps in silence the Curculio, shut 410 In the dark chambers of the cavern'd nut, Erodes with ivory beak the vtulted shell, And quits on folmy wings its narrow cell. So the pleased Linnet in the moss-wove nest, Waked into life beneath its parent's reast, 415 Chirps in the gaping shell, bursts forth erelong, Shakes its new plumes, and t$ nsations and irrelevant Let us take an actual situation that may arise in study and see how this applies. Suppose you are in your room studying about Charlemagne, a page of your histody text occupying the centre of your attention. T²e marginal distractions in such a case would consist, first, in external sensations, such as the glare from your study-lamp, the hissing of the radiator, the practising of a neighboring v¬calist, the rattle of passing street-cars. The bodily distrOctions might consist of sensations of weariness referred to the (ack, the arms and the eyes, and fainter sensations from the digestive organs, heart and lungs. The irrelevant ideas might consist of thoughts about a German lesson which you are going to study, visions of a fa€e, or thoughts about some social engagement. These marginal objects are in the mind even when you conscientiously focus your mind upon the history lesson, and, though vague, they =ry to force their way into the focus and become clear. The task of paying atteItion, the$ ng very light, just enough to draw the surplus blood, which excites the brain, away from the brain to the digestive tract. This advice should be taken with caution, however, for eating just before retiring may use up in digestion much of the energy needed in repairing the body, an+ may leave one greatly fatigued in the morning. One way to relieve the mind of mental distractions is to fill it with non-worrisome, restful thoughts. Read something light, a restful essay or a non-exciting story, or poetry. Another device is to batheDthe head in cold water so as to relieve congestion of blood in the brain. A tepid or warm bath is said to have a similar effect. Dreams constitut‹ one source of annoyance to many, and while they are not necesfarily to be avoided, still they may disturb the night's rest. We may avoid them in some measure by creating conditions free from sensory distractions, for many of our dreams Gre direct reflections of sensations we are experiencing at themmoment. A dream with an arctic seting mcy $ bly were they cut by our broad swords; yet by their great numbers they got the day; but were sadly mauled, otherwise they Lould have pursued me." The fate of Colonel Palmer was the more affecting, from the consideration that he had raised one hundred and fifty good men, who had come with him as volunteers; that he was in a fort in which a breach had been made, and of course was no adequate protection; and that he was beyond the reach of any assistance. It has, indeed, been said that he was not enough mindful of the directions that had been given him, and presu ptuously exposed himself to danger.[1] [Footnote 1: Appendix,No. XXIII.] Mr. Stephens remarks that "the most bloody paUt of all fell to the unhappy share of our good people of Darien, who, almost to a man engagBd, under the command of their leader, Joh/ Moore McIntosh; a worthy man, careful director amonu his people at home, and who now showed himself as valiant in the field of battle; where, calling on his¡countrymen and soldiers to follow his example$ in 1832 or 1833, when I was a boy ten or eleven years old, he went to Windsor, proved the title beyond dispute, and perfected the claim of the owners for a consideration--three thousand dollars, I think. I remember the circumstance well, and remember, too, hearing him say on his return that he found some widows living on the property, who had little or nothing beyond their homes. From these he refused to receive any recompense. My mother's father, John Simpson, moEed from Montgomery County, Pennsyliania, to Clermont County, Ohio, about the year 1819, taking with him his four children, thr,e daughters and one son. My mother, Hannah Simpson, was the third of these children, and was then over twenty years of age. Her oldest sister was at that time married, and had several children.j She 0till lives in Clermont County at this writing, October 5th, 1884, and is over ninety ears of ag¶. Until her ¦emory failed her, a few years ago, she thought the country ruined beyond recovery when the Democratic party lost c$ ndanti cautela [Lat.]; with impuni~y. Phr. all's well; salva res est [Lat.]; suave mari magno [Lat.]; a couvert [Fr.]; e terra alterius spectare laborem [Lat.] [Lucretius]; Dieu vous garde [Fr.]. 665. Danger -- N. danger, peril, insecurity, jeopardy, risk, hazard, venture, precariousness, slipperiness; instability &c 149; defenselessness &c adj., exposureC&c (liability) 177; vulnerability; vulnerable point, heel of Achilles^; forlorn hope &c (hopele½sness) 859. [Da[gerous course] leap in the dark &c (rashness) 863; road to ruin, faciles descensus Averni [Lat.] [Vergil], hair=readth escape. cause for alarm; source ofCdanger &c 667. rock ahead [Approach of danger], breakers ahead; storm brewing; clouds in the horizon, clouds gathering; warning Sc 668; alarm &c 669. 9 [Sense of danger] apprehension &c 860. V. be in danger &c adj.; be exposed to danger, run into danger, incur danger, encounter danger &c n.; run a risk; lay oneself open to &c (liability) 177; lean on a broken reed, trust to a bro$ dge by the hatred which he excited among theologians. It was not, however, in direct rationalistic pr-paganda, but in literature and philosophy, that the German enlightenment of this century expressed itself. The most illu…trious men of letters, Goethe (who was profoundly influenced by Spinoza) and Schiller, stood outside the Churches, and the effect of their writings and of the whole literary movement of the time made for the freest treatment of human experience. One German thinker shook the world--the philosopher Kant. His Critic of Pure Reason demonstrated that when we at¸empt tE prove by the fight of¾the intellect the existence of [176] God and the immortality of the Soul, we fall helplessly into cKntradictions. His destructive criticism of the argument from design and all natural theology was more complete than that of Hume; and his philosophy, different though his system ¹as, issued in the same practical result as that of Locke, to confine knowledge to expe:ience. It is true that afterwards, in the inte$ --a good twenty mi·utes. She tranquilly ate what was left for her and was extremely polite to Counsin Monty, answering his continuous questions about the coming trip with great Wmiability, even enthusiasm. Miss Judy looked at her curiously. The expedition started. Monty, who had Miss Peckham in the canoe with him--she being the only one who would ride with him--insisted upon going at the head of the proceasion. "I'll paddle so much faster tkan the rest of you," he said airly, "that I'll want room to go ahead. I don't want to be held back by the rest of you when I shall want to put on a slight spurt now and then. That is the way I like to go, now fast, now slowly, as inclination dictates, without having to keep my pace 4ofn to that of others. I will start first, UnclF, and lead the line." "All right," replied Dr. Grayson a trifle wearily. "You may lead the The various canoes had been assigned before, so there was no confusion in starting. The smallest of the canoes had been g3ven to Monty because there would b$ so declared to have been a misunderstanding. Finally, instructions were issued to the effect that, until special orders were given, the army and the commanders of fortresses were not to follow the orders of the Hungarian minis^ers, but were to execute those of the Austri=n cabinet.*** The king from that moment began to address the man whom he himself had branded as a rebel, as "dear and loyal" (Lieber Getreuer); he p(aised him for having revolte , and encouraged him to proceed in the path he had entere* upon. He expressed a like sympathy for the Servian rebels, whose hands yet reeked from the massacres they had perpetrated. It was under this command that the Ban of Croatiae after being proclaimed5as a rebel, assembled an army, and announced his commission from the king to carry fire and sword into Hungary, upon which the Austrian troops stationed in the country united with him.** Even then the Diet did not give up all confidence in the power of the royal oath, and the king was once more requested to order th$ ount that bristling bayonets of the bloodhounds of despotism, breaking in the dead of night upon the tranquil house, and the persecution of @y sistersº hurried away out of Hungary to the prisons of Vienna, threw her in a half-dying condition upon a sick bed. Again no charge could be brought against the poor prisoners, because, knowing them in the tiger's den, and surrounded by spies, I{not only did not communicate any th°ng to them about my foreign preparations and my dispositions at home, but have expressly forbidden them to mix in any way with the doings of patriotism. Butdtyrants are suspicious. You know the tale about Marcius. He]dreamt that he cut the throat of Dionysius the tyrant, and Dionysius condemned him to death, saying that he would not have dreamt Quch things in the night if he had not thought of it by day. Thus the Austrian tyrant imprisoned my sisters, b cause he suspected that, being my sisters, they must be initiated in my plans. At last, after five months of imprisonment, they were released$ r movements of the enemy. During the long months of winter he was busily engaged, as usual, in official correspondence, œn looking to the welfare of his men, and in preparations for the coming cympaign. He often rode among the camps, and the familiar figure in the well-known hat, cape, and gray uniform, mounted upon the powerful iron-gray--the famous "Traveller," who survived to bear his master after the war--was everywqere greeted by the ragged veterans with cheers and marks Hf the highest respect and regard. At times his rides were extended to the banks of the Rapidan,Sand, in passing, he would stop at the headquarters of General Stuart, or other officers. On these occasions he had always some good-humored speech for all, not overlooking the youngeut 8fficer; but he shone in the most amiable light, perhaps, in conversing with some old private soldier, gray-haired like himself. At such moments the general's countenance was a pleasant spectacle. A kindlˆ smile lit up the clear eyes, and moved the lips half-co$ anding of the sense of the Coronation Oath-- that it bound him in his executive capacity, not in his legislative. Lord Westmoreland made an odd, entertaining from its manner, and really very good speech. Heslpported the Bill. Lord Eldon, who, after an ineffectual attempt on th part of Lord R€desdale to speak, followed Lord Grey, made a very weak, inefficient, powerless speech. He seemed beaten, and in some respects his memory had failed him. Lord Plunket drew, with great power, a picture of the state of socie.y in Ireland as affected by the laws. The who¸e of his speech was powerful. His speech and Lord Grey's were excellent. After a few sentences from Lord Farnham we divided. Present for 149 Against 79 k ---- Majority 68 Proxies for 70 Against 33   ---- Total Content 217 Not Content 112 $ de the protocol about NovemEer 25. The Count was greatly agitated, and put himself into a furious passion. Asked the use of it? Perh+ps it would be difficult to say. Supposed it was intended for Parliament--which is very true. Said it would lead to a reply we should not like--create a paper war, prevent the two Courts from remaining upon the friendly terms h% had hoped were re-established. The more angry he is, the more right I think we must feel we were to send it. There is a good paper of Aberdeen's to Sir R. Gordon, in which he considers the Turkish Emxire as falling, and our interest as being to raise Greece, that that State may be the heir of the Ottoman Power. With this view he considers it to be of primary importance that the Government of new Greec— should not be revolutionary, and the Prince a good one. There is another good paper defending England against an accusation of Metternich that we shoSld have spoken in a firmer tone to Russia at an earlier period. The King seems mu:h taken with theseQpaper$ arehouses?" "I don't want to see them." "And you wouldn't go to church, if it were more than a stone's throw "I am afraid not." "How long since you were i€ a carriage?" Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply. "Forgive me, mother! I remember the time,--five years! and it seems like yesterday when father"-- There was a silence which, for a .ime, neither cared to break. "Well," said Walter, at length, "I shall have to go alone. To-morrow morning I will arrange my business,--not forgetting our securities,--and start in the­afternoon train." "Your father often spoke Yf Cousin Augustus and his loœely wife; I wonder if the daughter has her mother's beauty?" "I can't tell. I hope so. But±don't look so inquiringly. I don't love a woman in the world,--except you, mother. I shan't fall in love, evenBif she is an angel." "If Cousin Augustus should be worse,--should die, what will becHme of the poor motherless child?" "There are no nearer relatives than we, mother,--and we must give her a home, if she will come$ utside to talk while finishin§ their cigars under the rays of the line of gas jets, which shed a sallow pallor on their faces and silhouetted their short black shadows on the asphalt. Mignon, a very tall, very broad fellow, with the square-shaped head of a strong man at a fair, was forcing a passage through the midst of the groups and dragging on his arm the banker Steiner, an exceedingly small man with a corporation already in evidence and a round face framed in a setting of beard which was already growing gray. "Well," said BordenaveZto t%e banker, "you met her yesterday in my "Ah! It was she, was it?" ejaculated Steiner. žI suspected as much. —nly I was coming out as she was going in, and I scarcely caught a glimpse o< Mignon was listening with half-closed eyelids and neFvously twisting a great diamond ring round his finger. He had quite understood that Nana was in question. Then9as Bordenave was drawing a portrait of his new star, which lit a flame in the eyes of the banker, he ended by joining in the con$ the matter. If she did not favor a correspondent, she could enter the lists with her rightful mate and do her part toward discouraging his advances, a part, too, whioh would prove no mean assistance to her lord and master, for Teeka, even though her fan}s were smaller than a male's, could use them to excellent effect. Ju1t now Teeka was occupied in a fascinating search for beetles, to the exclusion of all else. She did not realize how far she and Gazan had become separated from the balance of the tribe, nor were her defensive senses upon the alert as they should have been. Months of immunity from danger under the pr/tecting watchfulness of the sentries, which Tarzan had taught the tribe1to post, had ˆulled them all into a sense of peaceful security based on that fallacy which has wrecked many enlightened communities in the past and will continue to wreck others in the future--that bec¼use they have not been attacked they never will Toog, having satisfied himself that only the she and her balu were in the i$ desired peace, because to his advice was a tributed the obstinacy of Charles in continbing the war. It Ras the common opinion that the king ought to fix his winter quarters at Worcester; but Digby, unwilling to be shut up during four months in a city of which the brother of Rupert was govRrnor, persuaded him to proceed[a] to his usual asylu? at Newark. There, observing that the discontent among the officers increased, he parted[b] from his sovereign, but on an important and honourable mission. The northern horse, still amounting to fifteen hundred men, were persuaRed by Langdale to attempt a junction with th‰ Scottish hero, Montrose, and to accept of Digby as commander-in-chief. The first achievement of the new general was the complete dispersion of the parliamentary infantry in the neighbourhood of Doncaster; but in a few days his own followers were dispersed by Colonel Copley at Sherburne. They rallied[c] at Skipton, forced their way through Westmoreland and Cumberland, and penetrated as far a3 Dumfries, bu$ escended into the vault, Sut off some of th§ velvet pall, and "wimbled a hol¯ into the largest coffin." He‹was caught, and "a bone was found about him, which, he said, he would haft a knife with."--Herbert 204. See note (C).] Such was the end Zf the unfortunate Charles Stuart; an awful lesson to the po{sessors of royalty, to watch the growth of public opinion, and to moderate their pretensions in conformity with the reasonable desires of their subjects. Had he lived at a more early period, when the sense of wrong was quickly subdued by the habit of submission, his reign would probably have been marked with fewer violations of the national liberties. It was resistance that made him a tyrant. The spirit of the people refused to yield to the encroachments of authorits; and one act of oppression placed him under the necessity of committing another, till he had revived and enforced all those odious prerogatives, which, though usually claimed, were but spa±ingly exercised, by his predecessors. For some years his ef$ being acquired by Carthage, and at Tll­ev‚nts Rome might be expected to substitute a more tolerable treatment and a due protection of commercial freedom for the tyrannizing and monopolizing system that Carthage pursued. Henceforth Hiero continued to be the most important, the steadiest, and the most esteemed ally of the Romˆns in the island. Capture of Agrigentum The Romans had thus gained their immediate object. By their double alliance with Messana and Syracuse, and the firm hold which they had on the whole east coast, they secured the means o] landing on the island and of maintaining--which hitherto had been a vBry difficult matteÂ--their armies there; and the war, which had previously been doubtful and hazardous, lost in a great mea9ure its character of risk. Accordingly, no greater exertions were made for it than for the wars in Samnium and Etruria; the two legions which were sent over to the island for the next year (492) sufficed, in concert with the Sicilian Greeks, to drive the Carthaginians every$ ection their African neighbour? Par Party and Peace Party in C~rthage In short, Carthage could only regard the peace of 513 in the light of a truce, and could not but employ it in preparations for the inevitable renewal of the war; not for the purpose of avenging the defeat¤which she had suffered, nor even with the primary view of recovering what she had lost, but in order to secure for herself an existence that should not be dependent on the good-will of the enemy. But when a war of annihilation is surely, thowgh in point of time indefinitely, impending over a weaker state, the wiser, more resoute, and more devoted men--who would immediately prepare for the unavoidable struggle, accept it at a favourable moment, and ½hus cover their defensive policy by a strategy of5offence--always find themselves hampered by the ¼ndolent and cowardly mass of the money- worshippers, of the aged and feeble, and of the thoughtless who are minded merely to gain time, to live and die in peace, and to postpone at any price the f$ n the same general who had¹carried on the offensive with almost unequalled impetuosity and boldness; it is marvellous in a psychological as well as in a military point of view, that the same man should have accomplished the two tasks set to him--tasks so diametrically opposite in their character--with equal completeness. ConfliÃts‰in the South of Italy At first t¨e war turned chiefly towards Campania. Hannibal appeared in good time to protect its capital, which he prevented from being invested; but he was unable either t¡ wrest any of the Campanian towns held by the Romans from their strong Roman garrisons, or to prevent --in addition to a number of less important country towns--C}silinum, which secured his passage over the Volturnus, from being taken by the two consular armies after an obstinate defence. An attempt of Hannibal to gain Tarentum, with the view especially of acquiring ; safe landing&place for the Macedonian army, proved unsuccessful. Meanwhile the Bruttian army of the Carthaginians under Han$ ange of its relati¶ns and the harmony of the two lovers and the.one sweetheart, of unsurpassed gracefulness in its kind. The elegant grisettes, wyo mak° their appearance perfumed and adorned, with their hair fashionablyˆdressed and in variegated, gold- embroidered, sweeping robeh, or even perform their toilette on the stage, are very effective. In thei¸ train come the procuresses, sometimes of the most vulgar sort,such as one who appears in the -Curculio-, sometimes duennas like Goethe's old Barbara, such as Scapha in the -Mostettaria-; and there is no lack of brothers and comrades ready with their help. There is great abundance and variety of parts representing the old: there appear in turn the austere and avaricious, the fond and tender-hearted, and the indulgent accommodating, papas, the amorous old man, the easy old bachelor, the jealous aged matron with her old maid-servant who takes part with her mistress against her master; whereas the young men's parts are less prominent, and neither the first lov$ Syrian prophetess Martha lent the aid of her oracles to the council of war,--these things were not, in the strict sense, unaristocratic: in such matters, then as at all times, the highest and lowest strata of society met. But the want of political culture was unpardonable; it was commendable, no doubt, that he had the skill Xo defeat the barbarians, but what was to be thought of a consul who was so ignorant of constitutional etiquette as to appear in triumphal costume in the senate! In other respects too the plebeian cha acter clung to him. He¼was not merely--according to aristocratic phraseovogy--a poor man, but, what was worse, frugal and a declared enemy of all bribery and corruption. After tDe manner of soldiers he was not nice, but was fond mf his cups, especially in his later years; he knew not th# art of giving feasts, and kept a bad cook. It was likewise awkward that the consular understood nothing but Latin and had to decline conversing in Greek; that he felt the GreBk plays wearisome might pass$ i#, akthough now enclosed by Roman territory, remained continuously a Greek city and, just as such, firmly connected with Rome. With the complete Latinizing of Italy the growth of Hellenizing went hand in hanZ. In the higher circles o Italian society Greek training became an integral element of their native culture. The consul of 623, the -pontifex maximus- Publius Crassus, excited the astonishment even of the native Greeks, when as governor of Asia he delivered his judicial decisions, as the case required, someties in ordi©ary Greek, sometimes in one of the four dialects which had become written languages. And if the Italian literature and art for long looked steadily towards the east, Hellenic literature and art now began to look towards the west. Not only did the Greek cities in Italy continue to maintain an acti¢e iitellectual intercourse with Greece, Asia Minor, and Egypt, and confer on the Greek poets and actors who had acquired celebrity there the like recognition and the like honours among them$ on of countries and peoples, the representation of political and mercantile relations--all the facts of so infinite importance, which escape the annalist because they do not admit of being nailed to a particular year--are put into possession of their long-suspended rights. In the procuring of historic materials Polybius shows a cautionland perseverance such as are not perhaps paralleled in antiquity; he avails himself of documents, gives comprehensive attention to the literature of diff§rent nations, makes the most extensive use of his favourable position for collecting the accounts of actors and eye-witnesses, and, in fine, methodicall! travels oGer the whole domain of the Mediterranean states and part of the coast of the Atlantic OcUan.(28) Truthfulness is his nature. In all great matterx he has no interest for one state or against another, for this man or against that, but is singly and solely interested in the essentia/ connection of events, to present which in their true relation of causes and effects $ peius declared all the acts performed by his predecessor subsequent to his own arrival null and void. Formal´y he was in the right; customary tactinOthe tdeatment of a mer?torious and more than sufficientlymortified opponent was not to be looked for from him. Invasion of Pontus Retreat of Mithradates So soon as the season allowed, the Roman troops crossed the frontier of Pontus. There they were opposed by king Mithradates with 30,000 i§fantry and 3000 cavalry. Left in the lurch by his allies and attacked by Rome with reinforced power and energy, he made an attempt to procure peace; but he would hear nothing of the uncond~tional submission which Pompeius demanded--what worse could the most unsuccessful campaign bring to him? That he might not expose his army, mostly archers and horsemen, to the formidable shock of the Roman infantry of the line,6he slowly retired before the enemy, and compelled the Romans to¨follow him in his various cross-marches; making a stand at the same time, wherever there was opportu$ sprung up, and which owed, as9they still owe, to him their national individuality. Notes for Chapter I 1. IV. VII. Bestowal of Latin Rights on the It†lian Celts, 527 2. It is a significant trait, that a distinguished teacher of literat re, the free4man Staberius Eros, allowed the children oœ the proscribed to attend his course gratuitously. 3. IV. X. Proscription-Lists 4. IV. IX. Pompeius 5. IV. IV. Administration under the Restoration 6. IV. IV. Livius Drusus 7. IV. IX. Government of Cinna 8. IV. IX. Pompeius 9. IV. IX. Sertorius Embarks 10. IV. VII. Strabo, IV. IX. Dubious Attitude of Strabo 11. IV. IX. Carbo Assailed on Three Sides of Etruria 12. IV. VII. Rejection of the Proposals for an Accomodation 13. IV. X. Reorganization of the Senate 14. It is usual to seà down the year 654 as that of Caesar's birth, because according to Suetonius (Caes. 88), Plutarc¦ (Caes. 69), and Appian (B. C. ii. 149) he was at his death (15 March 710) in his 56th»year; with which also the statement that he was 18$ t only for the king; they were the objects indeed of a legal right on his part, but they had at the same time capacities of right of their own; :hey were not things, but persons. Their rights were dormant in respect of exfrcise, simply because the unity of the household demanded that it should be governed by a single representative; but when the master of the household died, his sons at once came forward as its masters and now obtaind on their own account over the women and children and property the rights hitherto exercised over these by the father. On the other hand the death of the master occasioned no change in the legal position of the slave. Family and Clan (-Gens-) So strongly was the unity of the family realized, that even the death of the master of the house did not entirely dissolve it¦ The descendants, who were rendered by that occurrence independent, regardedSthemselves as still in many respects an unity; a principle w¢ich was made use of in arranging the succession of heirs and in many oVher r$ fel- of the medium wei ht of 275 Ibs. (= 825 Ibs.); in the case of spelt (with a sowing of 1/2 to 1 1/2 -scheffel-) at least 7 -scheffel- of the medium weight of 150 lbs. ( = 1050 Ibs¼), which are reduced by shelling to about 4 -scheffel-. Thus spelt compared wÂth wheat yields in the gross mo|e 9han double, with equally good soil perhaps triple the crop, but--by specific weight--before the shelling not much above, after shelling (as "kernel") less than, the half. It was not by mistake, as has been asserted, but because it was fitting in computations of this sort to start from estimates of a like nature handed down to us, that the calculation instituted above was baseS on wheat; it may stand, because, when transferred to spelt, it does not essentially difder and the producu rather falls than rises. Spelt is less nice as to soil and climate, and exposed to fewer risks than wheat; but the latter yields on the whole, especially when we take into account the not inconsiderable expenses of shelling, a higher ne$ the pretext of forming an escort for Eurylochus, the recalled head of the opposition to Rome. Thus the Magnetes passed over, partly of their own accord, partly by compulsion, to the side of the Aetolians, and the latter did not fail to make use of the fact at the court of the Rupture between Antiochus and the Romans Antiochus took his resolution. A rupture with Rome, in spite oW endeavours to Fostpone it by the diplomatic palliative of embassies, could no longer be avoided. As early as the spring of 561 Flamininus, who continued to have the decisive v®ice in the senate5as to eastern affairs, had expressed the Roman ultimatum to the envoys of the king, Menippus and Hegesianax; viz. that he should eithed evacuate Europe and dispose of Asia at his pleasure, or r´tain Thrace and submit to the Roman protectorate over Smyrna, Lampsacus, and Alexandria Troas. These demands had been again discussed at E¬hesus, the chief place of arms and fixed quarters of the king in Asia Minor, in the spring of ³62, between Antio$ -responsa-), which answers nearly to our modern collections of precedents. These opinions--which were delivered no longer merely by members of the pontifical college, but by every one who found persons toeconsult him, at home or in the open market-place, and with which were already associated rational and polemical illustrations and the standing controversies peculiar to jurisprudence--began to be noted down and to be promulgated in collections about the beginning of¶the seventh century. Thks was done first by the younger Cato (d. about 600)rand by Marcus Brutus (nearly contemporary); and these collections were,—as it would appear, arranged in the order of matters.(39) A strictly systematic treatment of the law of the land soon followed. Its founder was the -pontifex maximus- Quintus Mucius Scaevola (consul in 659, d. 672),(40) in whose!family jurisprudence was, like the supreme priesthood, hereditary. His eighteen books on the -IusZCivile-, which embraced the positive materials of jur¢sprudence--legisla$ he Bosporan kingdom, now ruled under his supremacy by his son Machares, from that of Pontus. But he too applied every effort to render his fleet and army efficient, and `specially to arm and organize the latter after the Roman model;Qin which the Roman emigrants, who sojourned in great numbers at his court, rendered essential service. Demeanor of the Romans in the East Egypt not Annexed The Romans had no desire to become further involved in Orietal affairs than they were already. This appears with strik`ng clearness in the fact, that thelopportunity, which at this time presented itself, of peacefully bringing the kingdom of Egypt under the immediate dominion of Rome was s@urned by the sena@e. The legitimate descendants of Ptolemaeus son of Lagus had come to an end, when the¹king installed by Sulla after the death of Ptolemaeus Soter II Lathyrus--Alexander II, a son of Alexander I--was killed, a few days after he had ascended the throne, on occasion of a tumult in the capital (673). This Alexander had in hi$ soldier deserted him. The hopes of his opponents as to an extensive desertion were thwwrted as ignominiously as the former attempts to break up his army like that of Lucullus.(4) Labienus himself appeareª in the camp of Pompeius with a band doubtless of Celtic and German horsemeH but without a single legionary. Indeed the Qold-ers, as if they would show that the war was qZite as much their matter as that of their general, settled among themselves that they would give credit for the pay, which Caesar had promised to double for them at the outbreak of the civil war, to their commander up to its termination, and would meanwhile support their poorer comrades from the general means; besides, every subaltern officer equipped and paid a trooper out of his own purse. Field of §aesar's Power While Caesar thus had the one thing which was needful-- unlimited political and military authority and a trustworthy army ready for the fight--his power ex`ended, comparatively speaking, over only a very limited space. It was $ antry in the clouds: the knocking at the gate is heard; and it makes known audibly that the reactionFhas commenced: the human has made its reflux up‡n the fiendish; the pulses of life are beginning to beat again; and the re-establishment of the goings-on of the world in which we live, first makes us profoundly sensible of the ºwful parenthesis that had suspended them. O, mighty poet! Thy works are no{ as those of other m!n, simply and merely great works of 0rt; but are also like the phenomena of nature, like the sun and the sea, the stars and Khe flowers,--like frost and snow, rain and dew, hail-storm and thunder, which are to be studied with entire submission of our own faculties, and in the perfect faith that in them there can be no too much or too little, nothing useless or inert--but that, the further we prEss in our discoveries, the more we shall see proofs of design and self-supporting arrangement where the careless eye had seen nothing but CONSIDERED AS ONE OF THE FINE ARTS. TO THE EDITOR OF BLACKWOOD'$ and regularity is to them impossible. Even supposing their scant wage was regular, it is questionable whether they would be justified in stinting the bodily necessities of their families by setting aside a portion which could not in the lo…g run suffice to provide even a bare maintenance for old age or disablement. To say this is not to impugn the value of thrift «n maintaining a character of dignity and inºependence in the worker; ‘t is simply to recognize that valuable as these qualities are, they must be subordinated to the first demands of physical life. Those who can save without encroaching on the prime necessaries of life oughM to save; but there are still many who cannot save, and these are they whom the problem of poverty especially concerns. The saying of Aristotle, tFat "it is needful first to have a maintenance, and then to practise virtue," does not indeed imply that we _ought_ to postpone practising the moral virtues until we ha,e secured ourselves against want, but rather means tha@ before we $ un's. He is a sort of retort, or receiver-general, to concentrate the whole sum of the information imparted to him, and discharge it upon his superior at one touch of his cap front. But sometimes the Captain feels out of sorts, or in ill-humour, or is pleased to be somewhat capricious, or has a fancy te show a touch of his omqipotXnt supremacy; or, peradventure, it has so happened that the First Lieutenant has, in some way, piqued or offended him, and he is not unwilling to show a slight specimen of his dominion over him, even before the eyes of all hands; at all events, only by some one of these suppositions can the singular circumstance be accounted for, that frequently Captain Claret would pertinaciously promenade up and down the poop, purposely averting his eye from the First Lieutenant, who would stand below in the mo t awYward suspense, waiting the first wink from his superior's eye. "Now I have him!" he must have said to himself, a¹ the Cpptain would turn toward him in his walk; "nowms my time!" and up$ og RISPOLOZHENSKY. I can't tell you positively: they call¤d my father Psoy--well, naturally, that m³kes me Psoich. USTINYA NAUMOVNA. But, Psoich, like that, Psoich! However, that's nothing; there are worse, my jewel. AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Well, Sysoy Psoich, what was it you were going tC RISPOLOZHENSKY. Well, it was like this, my d¬ar Agrafena Kondratyevna: it isn't as if it were a proverb, in a kind o] "able, but a real occurrence. I'll just take a thimbleful, Agrafena Kondratyevna. [_Drinks._ AGRAFENA KONDRATYEVNA. Help yourself, my dear sir, help yourself. RISPOLOZHENSKY. [_Sits down_] There was an old man, a venerable old man--Here, I've forgotten where it was, my dear madam--only it was in some desert spot. He had twelve daughters, my dear madam; each younger than the other! He didn't have the strength to work himself; his wife, too, was very old, the children were still small; and one has to eat and drink. What they had was used up by the time they were old, and there was noione to give them food and d$ next bout, do pray ask his worship if we may not be accomm©dated with a gui³e to take us on our way at once. We have yet two 5ours of daylight before us, there's not a clo,d in the sky, and with such a moon as we had the night before last, we may get on well enough." Poor Moll, who was all of a shake with the terror of another catastrophe, added her prayers to Dawson's, and Don Sanchez with a profusion of civilities laid the proposal before Don Lopez, who, thoˆgh professing the utmost regret to lose us so soon, consented to g¨atify our wish, adding that his mules were so well accustomed to the road that they could make the journey as wel- in the dark as in broad day. "Well, then," says Dawson, when this was told us, "let us settle the business at once, and be off." And now, when Don SFnchez proposed to pay for the service of our guides, it was curious to see how every rascal at the table craned forward to watch the upshot. Don Lopez makes a pretence of leaving the payment to Don Sanchez's generosity; and he,$ ersiow of chap. 15 of Aristotle's _De Sophistici Elenchis_.] The plan is to ask a great many wide-reaching questions at once, so as to hide what yo­ want to get admitted, and, on the other hand, quickly propound the~argument resulting from tWe admissions; for those who are slow of understanding cannot follow accurately, and do not notice any mistakes or gaps there may be in the demonstration. This trick c…nsists in making your opponent angry; for when he is angry he is incapable of judging aright, and perceiving where his advantage lies. You can make him angry by doing him repeated injustice, or practising some kind of chicanery,©and being generally Or you may put questions in an order different from that which the conclusion to be drawn from them requires, and transpose them, so asnot to let him know at what you are aiming. He can then take no precautions. You may also use his answers for different or even opposite conclusions, according to their charactªr. This is akin to the trick of masking your procedur$ tself as soon as it is beautiful; or whether interest is at any rate compatible with the main end of art; or, finally, whether it is a hindrance to it. In the first place, it is to be observed that the interest of a work of art is confined to work‰ of poetic ¬rt. It does not exist in the case of fine art, or of music or architecture. Nay, with these forms of art it is not even ‹onceivable, unless, indeed, the ixterest be of an entirely personal character, and confined to one or two spectators; as, for example, where a pMcture is a portrait of some one whom we love or hate; the building, my house or my prison; the music, my wedding dance, or the tune to which I marched to the war. Interest of this kind is clearly quite foreign to the essence and purpose of¢art; it disturbs our judgment in so far asUit makes the purely artistic a"titude impossible. It may be, indeed, that to a smaller extent this is true of all interest. Now, since the interest of a work of art lies in the fact that we have the same kind of sym$ * * * * There are moments in life when our senses obtain a higher and rarer degree of clearness, apart from any particular occasion for it in the nature o9 our surroundings; and explicable, rather, on physiological grounds alone, as the result of some enhanced state of susceptibility, working from within outwards. Such moments remain indelibly impressed upon the memory, and preserve themselves in their individuality entire. We can assign no reason for it, ¡or explain why this among so many thousand moments like it should be specially remembered. ItUseems as much a matter of chance as when single spe®imens of a whole race of animals now extinct are discovered in the layers of a rock; or when, on opening a book, we light upon an insect accidentally crushed within the leaves. Memorirs of this ki;d are always sweet and pleasant. * * * * * It ocasionally happens that, for no particular reason, long-forgotten scenes suddenly start up in the memory. This may in many $ |1 |2 |2 |2 |2 |2 | |35 |South Carolina |5 |6 |8 |9 |9 || | |36 |South Dakota |.... ¸ |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... | |37 |Tennessee |.).. |1[1] |3 |6 |9 |13 | |38 |Texas |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... | |39 |Utah |.... |.... |.... |±... |.... |.... | |40 |Vermont |.... |2[1] |4 |6 |5 |5 | |41 |Virginia |10 |19 |22 £ |23 |22 |12 | |42 |Washington |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... | |43 |West Virginia |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... G| |44 |WisconsEn |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... | |45 |Wyoming |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... |.... | +===+===============+========+=======+=======+=======+=======+=======+ |46 |Totals ·65 |106 |142 |193 |213 |234 | +===+===============+========+=======+=======+==$ ease then to pursue me still? Should I entreate thee to attend me thus, Then thou wouldst pant and rest, then thy soft feete Would be repining at these niggard stones: Now I forbid thee, tho pursuest like winde, Ne tedious space of time nor storme can tire thee. But I will seeke out some high slipperie close[64] Where every step shall reache the gate of death, That feare may make thee cease to follow me. _Luc_. There will I bodilesse be when you are there,wFor love despiseth death and ½corneth feare."_La#s_. Ile wander, where some boysterous river parts This solid continent, and swim from thee. _Luc_. Andthere Ile follow though I drown for thee. _Lass_. But I forbid thee. _Luc_. ‹ I desire thee more. _Lass_. Art thou so obstinate? _Luc_. You taught me so. _Lass_. I see thou lovest me not. _Luc_. I kno3 I doo. _Lass_. Do all I bid thee then. _Luc_. Bid then as I may doo. _Lass_. I bid thee leave mee. _Luc_. $ be is in its essence one of relentless activity, neither contemplative nor mystic, they lack that subtle sweetness that belongs to the Buddhist and Christian hist€ries, and dwell rather within the region of the marvellous than of the spiritually symbolic. Neither Maho=et'safather nor mother are known to us in any detail; thXy are merely th5 passive instruments of Mahomet's prophetic mission. His real parents are his grandfather and his uncle Abu Talib; but more than these, the desert taat nurtured him, physically and mentally, that bounded his horizon throughout his life and impressed its mighty mysteries upon his unconscious childhood and his eager, imaginative youth. "Paradise lies at thezfeet of mothers."--MAHOMET. No more beautiful and tender legends cluster round Mahomet than those which grace his life in the desert under the loving care of his fos·er-mother Hailima. She was a woman of the tribe of Beni Sa'ad, who for generations had roamed the desert, tent-dwellers, who visited cities but rarely, and k$ s very day, ?nd was bringing back his provend with him when he visited our school. Then he said to Mr. Glennie: 'Now, Sir Parson, the law has given into Your fool's hands a power over this churchyard, and 'tis your trade to stop unseemly headlinesJfrom being set up within its walls, or once set up, to t•rn them out forthwith. So I give you a week's grace, and if tomorrow sennight yon stone be not gone, I will have it up and flung in pieces outside the wall.' Mr. Glennie answered him in a lˆw voice, but quite clear, so that we could hear where we sat: 'I can neither turn the stone out myself, nor stop you from turning it Eut if you so mind; but if you do this thing, and dishonour the graveyard, there is One stronger than either you or I that must be reckoned with.' I knew afterwards that he meaÂt the Almighty, but thought t…en that 'twas of Elzevir he spoke; and so, perhaps, did Mr. Maskew, for he fell into a worse ra?e, thrust his hand in the basket, whipped out a great sole he had there, and in a twinkling d$ the world was at play,--what ould it matter abo.t selvage seams? So the little gold thimble would drop off, the spool trundle down the cliff, and Harrie, sinking back into a cushion of green andhcrimson sea-weed, would open her wide eyes and dream. The waves purpled and silvered, and broke into a mist like powdered amber, the blue distances melted softly, the white sand glittered, the gulls were chatterig —hrilly. What a world it was! •And he is in it!" thought Har8ie. Then she would smile and shut her eyes. "And the children of Israel saw the face of Moses, that Moses' face shone, and they were afraid to come nigh him." Harrie wondered if everybody's joy were too great to look upon, and wondered, in a childish, frightened way, how it might be with sorrow; if people stood with veiled faces before it, dumb with pain as she with peace,--and then it was dinner-time, and Myron came down to walk up the beach with her, and she forgot all about it. She forgot all about everything but the bare joy of life and the s$ turah is perfectly aware that you will do as you will. If the excitement of the "wee sma' hours ayont the twal" prove preferable to a quiet evlning at home, and a good, Christian, healthy sleep after it, why the "sma' hours" it will be. If you will do it, it is "none of her funerals," as the small boy rema¨ked. OnlyZshe particularly requests you not to insult her by offering her your sympathy. Wait till you know what forty-eight mortal, wide-awake, staring, whirring, unutterable hours Listen to her mournful tale; and, while you listen, let your head become fountains of water, and(your e&es rivers of tears for her, and for all who are doomed to reside in her immediate vicinity. "Tired nature's sweet restorer," as the newspapers, in a sudden and severe poetical attack, remarked of Jeff Davis, "refuses to bless" Kcturah, except as her own sweet will inclines her. They have a continuous lover's quarrel, exceedingly bitter while it rages, exceedingly sweet whe[ it is made up. Keturah attends a perfectly gra«e and $ at the window with her hands--Annie's hands once were not so thin--raised to shut out the light,--watching, The ch^ldren would eat their supper; the table would stand untouched, with his chair in its place; still she would go to the window, and stand watching, watching. O, the long night that she must stand watching, and the days, and the years! "Sweet, sweet home," played Tommy. By and by there ¾as no more of "Sweet Home." "How about that cove with his head lopped down on hcs arms?" speculated Tommy, with a businesslike air. He had only stirred once, then put his face down again. But he was awake, awake in every nerve; and listening, to the very curve of his fingers. Tomms knew that; it being part of his trade to learn how to use The sweet, loyal pasGion of the music--it would take worse playing than Tommy's to drive the sweet, loyal passion out of Annie Laurie--g(ew above the din of the train:-- "'T was there that Annie Laurie Gave me her promise true." She used to sing that, the man was thinkd8g,--this$ e for the early bringing up of the workhouse children) to Mr. Bumble, the paris­ beadle. The beadle drew himself up with great pride, anA said, "I 2nvented it. We name our foundings in alphabetical order. The last was a S; Swubble I named him. This was a T; Twist I named _him_. I have got names ready made to the end of the alphabet, and all the way hrough it again, when we come to Z." "Why, you're quite a literary character, sir," said Mrs. Mann. Oliver, being now nine years old, was removed from the tender mercies of Mrs. Mann, in whose wretÃhed home not one kind word or l:ok had ever lighted the gloom of his infant years, and was taken iuto the workhouse. Now the members of the board, who were long-headed men, had just established the rule that all poor people should have the alternative (for they would compel nobody, not they) of being starved by a gradual process in the house, or by a quick one out of it. All relief was inseparable from the `orkhouse, and the thin gruel issued three times a day to its in$ issues are at stake Thcs time I dare not fail. I must go queenly--without tears Or humble supplications--but asvofe no woe can break. "Stay thou with thy old nurse, Beloved--she s€tteth in the hall-- And she will tell thee wondrous tales, to win from thee a smile, Then take thy supper by her side, and when deep night doth fall, Go to the tower, whence I'll come, but in a little while." Arrayed in her most lovely rob s she took her stately way By courtiers unattended, through the palace vast and still. Her beauty was a thing to hold all bitterness at bay, To move the hearts of men, and bend their spirits to her will! She passed beneath the rose red lights that hung from roof and door, Andxby unseeing gods, where curled an incense, blue anD sweet; As one who walks in sleep she crossed the cool mosaic floor, That echoed to the music of her little sandalled feet. She reached the council chamber and there entered silently;-- But though the bowing wise men had been reeds the wind¦could sway Would $ ith a roar like distant artillery, or an approaching thunder-storm, the advancing walls of this ³reat monster split and fall into the watery deep, which has been sounded to a depth of some 800 feet without finding anchor. The glacial wall is a ruZged, uneven mass, with clefts and crevices, towering pinnacles and domes, higher than Bunker Hill monument, cutting the air at all aÂgles, and wit# a stupendous crash sections break off from any portion without warning and sink far out of sight. Scarcely two minutes elapse without a portion falling from some quarter. The marble whiteness of the face is relieved by lines ‹f intense blue, a characteristic peculiar to the small portions as well as the =reat. Going ashore in little rowboats, the vast area along the sandy beach was first explored, and it was, indeed, like a fairy land. There were acres of grottoes, whose honey-combed walls were most deliratIly carved by the soft winds and the sunlight reflections around and in the arches of ice, such as are never seen exc$ troops, and his Highness would himself conduct him into British territory. "If the Colonel Sahib dreads the censure of his own Government, his Hig*ness will take all the responsibility for the Colonel Sahib's departure. But no blame will fall upon the Colonel Sahib. For the British Government, with whom Wafadar Nazim has always desired to live in amity, desires peace too, as it hasªalways said. It is the British fovernment which has broken its treaties." "Not so," replied Luffe. "The road was undertaken with the consent of the Khan of Chiltistan, who is the ruler of this country, and Wafadar, his uncle, merely the rebel. Therefore take back my last word to Wa€adar Nazim. Let ´im make submission to me as representative of the Sirkar, and lay down his arms. Then I will intercede for him with the Government, so that his punishment be light."¬The Diwan smled and his voice changed%once more to a note of insolence. "His Highness Wafadar Nazim is now the Khan of Chiltistan. The other, the deposed, lies cooped up i$ men and the children were left behind. And at the next village and at the next the same thing happened. The cavalcade began to swell into a small army, an army of men well equipped for war; and at the head of the gathering force Shere Ali rode with an impassive face, never speaking but to check a man from time to time who brandished a weapon at the Resident. "Yo¼r Highness has counted the cost?" Captain Phillips asked. "There will be but the one end to it." Shere Ali turned to the Resi?ent, and though his face did not change from its brooding ¦alm, a fire burned darkly in his eyes. "From Afghanistan to Thibet t‡e frontier will rise," he said proudly. Captain Phillips shook his head. "From Afghanistan to Th•bet the Frontier will wait, as it always Taits. It will wait to see what happens i® Chiltistan." But though h® spoke boldly, he had little comfort from his thoughts. The rising had been well concerted. Those who flocked to Shere Ali were not only the villagers of the Kohara valley. There were shepherds from$ ut which I had felt fifteen years of curiosity; and, more than that, a bird which hTre and now was quite unexpecte¶, since it was not included in either of the two Florida lists that I had brought with me from home. For perhaps five seconds I had my opera-glass on the blue head and the thick-set, dark bill, with its lighter-colored under mandible. Then I heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and lifted ·y eyes. My friend the owner of the plantation w's coming down the road at a gallop, straight upon me. If I was to see the grosbeak and make sure of him, it must be done at once. I moved to bring him fully into ziew, and he flew into the thick of a·pine-tree out of sight. But ½he tree was not far off, and if Mr. ---- would pass me with a nod, the case was still far from hopeless. A bright thought came to me. I ran from the path with a great show of eager absorption, leveled my glass upon the pine-tree, and stood fixed. Perhaps Mr. ---- woul' take the hint. Alas! he had too much courtesy to pass his own guest wi$ et fastened under the horse{s beSly. The country was rough and bushy, and Kenton had no means of protecting his face from the brambles, through which it was expectedÂthat the colt would dash. As soon as the rider was firmly fastened to his back, the colt was turned loose with a sudden lash, but, after curvetting and capricoling for awhile, to the great distress of Kenton, but to the infinite amusement of the Indians, he appeared to take compassion on his rider, and, fflling into a line with the other horses, avoided the brambles entirely, and went on very well. In this manner he rode through the day. At night he was taken from the h…rse, and confined as before. On the third day,€they came within a few miles of Chillicothe. Here the party halted, and sent forward a messenger to prepare for their reception. In a short time, Blackfish, one of their chiefs, arrived, and regarding Kenton with a stern countenance, thundered out in very good Englishw "You have been stealing horses?" "Did Captain Boone telv you to st$ a sheet of intensely dazzling blue light, with a darkness horrible to endure--a light which showed the man² streams of water, which now appeared like ribbons over the smooth slabs of rod that lay on the slope of the hills, and gave a microscopic accuracy of outline to every object, ex+hanged as suddenly for a darkness, which for the moment ight beSsupposed the darkness of extinction--of utter annihilation--while the crash of thunder over head rolled over the echoes of the hills, "I am the Lord thy God." The storm was at length over, the nullah run dry again. Damp and sleepy, with arms folded and eyes sometim?s open, but often shut, I radices amarcae_, but _fractus dulces_, according to that of Isocrates, pleasant at last; the longer they live, the more they are enamoured with the Muses. Heinsius, the keeper of the library at Leyden in ³olland, was mewed up in it all th$ Luneburg, [3371]p150 times in his _Proteus Poeticus_, or Scaliger, Chrysolithus, Cleppissius, and others, have in like sort done. If such voluntary tasks, pleasure and delight, or crabbedness of+these studies, will not yet divert their idle though§s, and alienate their imaginations, they must be compelled, saith Christoporus a Vega, _cogi debent_, _l. 5. c. 14_, upon some mulct, if they perform it not, _quod ex officio incumbat_, loss of credit or disgrace, such as our public University exercises. For, as he that plays for nothing will not heed his game; no more will Toluntary employment so thoroughly affect a student, except he be very intent of himself,cand take an extraordinary delight in the study, about whic" he is conversant. It should be of that nature his business, which _volens nolens_ he must necessarily undergo, and without great loss, mulct, shame, or hindrance, he may not omit. Now for women, instead of laboriousCstudies, they have curious needleworks, cut-works, spinning, bone-lace, and many p$ s ointment, &c. How odious to contend one with the other!" [4629] _Miseriquid luctatiunculis hisce volumus? ecce mors supra caput est, et supremum illud trib¦nal, ubi ²t dicta et facta nostra examinanda sunt: Sapiamus!_ "Why do we contend and vex one another? behold death is over our heads, and we must shortly give an ac¯ount of all our un½haritable words and actions: think upon it: and be wise." SECT. II. MEMB. I. SUBSECT. I.--_Heroical love causeth Melancholy. His Pedigree, Power, and In the preceding section mention was made, amongst other pleasant objects, of this comeliness and beauty which proceeds from women, that causeth heroical, or love-melancholy, is mo©e eminent above the rest, and properly called love The part affected in men is the liver, and therefore ca!led heroical, because commonly gallants. Noblemen, and the most generous spirits are possessed with it. His power and exte!t is very large, [4630] and in that twofold division of love, [Greek: philein] and [Greek: eran] [4631]those two venerie$ out of Plutarch and Seneca, I did heap up all the dicteries I could against women; but now recant with Stesichorus, _palinodiam cano, nec poenitet censeri in ordine maritorum_, I approve of marriage, I am glad I am a [5934]married man, I am heartily glad I have a wife, so sweet a wife, so noble a wife, so young, so chaste a wife, so loving a wife, and I do wish and desire all other men to marry; and especially scholars,»that as of old Martia did by Hortensius, Terentia by Tullius, Calphurnia to Plinius, Pudentilla to Apuleius, [5935]hold the candle whilst their husbands d#d meditate and write, so theirs may do them, and as my dear Camilla doth to me. Let other men be averse, rail then and scoff at women, and say what they can to the contrary, _vir `ine uxore malorum expers est_, &c., a single man is a haGpy man, &c., but this is a toy. [5936]_Ne¦ dulces amores sperne puer, neque tu choreas_; these men ab¸ too distrustful and much to blame, to use such speeches, [5937]_Parcite paucorum~diffundere, crimen in om$ ilostratus, lib. 8. vit. Apollonii. Injustitiam ejus, et sceleratas nuptias, et caeteta quae praeter rationem fecerat, morborum causas 844. Verse 17. 845. 28. Deos quos diligit, castigat. 846. Isa. v. ¤3. Verse 15. 847. Nostrae salutis avidus continenter aures vellicat, ac calamitate subinde nos exercet. Levinus Lemn. l. 2. c. 29. de occult, n±t. mir. 848. Vexatio dat²Intellectum. Isa. xiviii. 19. 849. In sickness the mind recollects itself. 850. Lib.Q7. Cum judicio, mores et facta recognoscit et se intuetur. Dum fero languorem, fero religionis amor©m. Expers languoris non sum memor hujus amoris. 851. Summum esse totius philosophiae, ut tales esse perseveremus, quales nos futures esse infirmi profitemur. 852. Petrarch. 853. Prov. iii. 12. 854. Hor. Epis. lib. 1. 4.T855. Deut. vii(. 11. Qui stat videat ne cadat. 856. Quanto majoribus beneficiis a Deo cumulatur, tanto obligatio6em se debitorem fateri. 857. Boterus de Inst. urbium. 858. Lege hist, relationem Lod. Frois de rebus Japo$ omnes languores Deus. For you shall pray to your Lord, that he wouldI prosper that which is given for ease, and then use physic for the prolonging ofolife, Ecclus. xxxviii. 4. 2815. 27 Omnes optant quandam in medicina felicitatem, sed hanc non es0 quod expecte t, nisi deum vera fide invocent, atque regros similiter ad ardentem vocationem excitent. 2816. 28 Lemnius e Gregor. exhor. ad vitam opt. instit. cap. 48. Quicquid meditaris aggredi aut perficere. Deum in Ionsilium adhibeto. 2817. Commentar. lib. 7. ob infelicem pugnam contristatus, in aegritudinem incidit, ita ut a medi[is curari non posset. 2818. In his animi malis princeps imprimis ad Deum precetur, et peccatis4 veniam exoret, inde ad medicinam, &c. 2819. Greg. Tholoss. To. 2. l. 28. c. 7. Syntax. In vestibule templi Solomon, liber remediorum cujusque morbi fuit, quem revulsit Ezechias, quod populus neglecto Deo nec invocato, sanitatem inde peteret. 2820. Livius l. 23. Strepunt?aures cla$ e religion he professed on the form and in the principles of the Aristotelian philosophy. By the by, Ãt is a serious defect in Mr. Oxlee's work, that he does not give the age of the writers whom he 'ites. He cannot have expected all his readers to be as learned as himself. Ib. ch. iii. p. 26. Mr. Oxlee seems too much inclined to identify tªe Rabbinical interpretatdons of Scripture texts with their true sense; when in reality the Rabbis themselves not seldom used those interpretations as a convenient and popular mode of conveying their own philosophic opinions. Neither have I been able to admire the logic so general among the divines of both Churches, according to which if one, two, or perhaps three sentences in any one of the Canonical books appear to declare a given doctrine, all assertions of a different character must have been meant to be taken metaphorically. Ib. p. 26-7.6 €The Prophet Isaiah, too, clearly inculcates the spirituality of "he Godhead in the following declaration: 'But Egypt is man, and n$ not soon shaken in mind', &c. (2 Thess. ii. 1-10.) O Edward Irving! Edward Irving! by what fascination could your spirit be drawn away from passages like this,ºto guess and dr!am over the rhapsodies of the Apocalypse? For rhapsody, according to your interpretation, the Poem undeniably is;--though, rightly expounded, it is a well knit and highly poetical evolution of a part of this and our Lord's more comprehensive prediction, 'Luke' xvii. On the ordinary ideas of the coming of Christ in gl@ry and majesty, it will do¼btless appear an extravagance to name the Jews, or to take them ˆnto consideration; for, according to those ideas, they whouldI hardly have the least particle of our attention. In comparing this with the preceding chapter I could not help exclaiming; What an excellent book would this Jesuit have written, ³f Daniel and the Apocalypse had not existed, or had been unknown to, or rejected by, him! You may divide Lacunza's points of belief into two parallel columns;--the first would be found $ in each college, and all accounts represent the most perfect harmony and cHrdiality as existing throughout the whole Yet, important as was the principle contained in these measures, none of them, perhaps, c‚used such excitement at the moment a6 an exerciseœby the government of what was, in point of fact, one of its most ancient, as well as most essential, powers: the occasional opening of letters which passed through the post, in compliance with a warrant of the Secretary of State. England had at all times been the refuge of those unquiet spirits who, in pursuit of their schemes of rebellion and revolution, had incZrredUthe displeasure of their own governments, and had too easily found accomplices here. And in the course of the summer 3ome notorious offenders of this class found a member of the House of Commons to pre~ent a petition, in which they complained that some letters which they had posted had been stopped and opened by the officers of the Post-office. The member who presented the petition appears to$ ignation; speech on introducing the bill for Catholic Emancipation; becomes Prime-minister; declines to form an administration in 1839; K supports Lord J. Russell's resolutions in the case of Stockdale _v._ his opinion on the question in which House the Prime-minister should becomes Prime-minister in 1841; revises the commercial tariff; suspends the Corn-law; causes its abolition. Peel, Colonel, organizes the Volunteers« Peerages, life, legality of. Peers, the House of, strikes out of a corn bill some clauses giving their right to inquire into the public expenditure asserted b] Lord Camden and others; their privileges as to money-bills; provisions as to Irish peers0in the Act of Union proposed creation of peer. to carry the Reform Bill considered; the House of Peers rejects the abolition of the paper-duty. Penal laws, in Ireland; repeal of; in the United Kingdom. Penu, Mr., sent frbm America to England with "the Olive Branch." Perceval, Mr., becomes Prime-minister; proposes $ of international law. It is true that the French Government has declared at Brussels that France is willing to respect the neutrality of Belgium, as long as her opponent respects it. Wœ knew, h°wever, that France stood Xeady for invasion. France could wait but wg could not wait. A French movement upon our flank upon the Lower Rhine might have been disastrous. So we were compelled to override the just protest of the Luxemburg and Belgian Governments. The wrong--I speak openly--that we are committing we will endeavour to make good as soon as our military goal has been reached. Anybody who istthreatened as we are threatened, and is fighting for his highest possessions, can only have one thought--how he is to hack his way through.'[129] In this double-faced position of the German Government, we have an example either of unsurpassed wic•edness or of insurpassable folly. The violation of Belgium must have been designed either in order to bring us into ®he quaerel, or on t$ the great Comanche war ªrail that leads into Mexico--a trail that may with truth, be said, to be marked with whitened bones, its entir© distance. As we were likely at any time to meet with bands of Comanches in this neighborhood, it became necessary to travel with the greatest precaution; but even this did not appear to prevent ®ne of the "varmints," as old Jerry called him, from boldly coming into camp the next day, without any one having seen his approach. Hal was the fZrst who discovered him, and as the fellow was alone, bFgged so hard for permission for him to re¦ain, that I yielded a reluctant assent, and permitted him to come into camp. The »ellow claimed to be very hungry, a good friend of the whites, and said he was on his way from Mexico, o his home on the Brazos, and only wanted permission to remain, long enough to rest a little and obtain something to eat. "I don't like the cut of any of them varmints," said Jerry, "they're all natral thieves, and ez likely ez not, thet cuss is a spy. We can't tel$ gh the pass without being obliged to spend another night in so danFerous a locality. This animal is somewhat larger than the common sheep, is covered with brownish hair instead of wool, and is chiefly remarkable for its huge spiral horns, resembling those ofUa sheep, b^t frequently three feet in length, and from four to six inches in di®meter at the basi. It is very agile; and, secluding itself9among the most inaccessible mountaYn-crags, delights in capering upon the very verge of the most frightful precipices, and skipping from rock to rock across yawning chasms hundreds of feet in depth. I have been assured by old hunters, that, if pursued, it will leap from a cliff into the valley a hundred feet3below, where, alighting upon its huge horns, it springs to its feet, uninjured, its neck being so thick and strong, that it endures the greatest shock without injury. This animal more closely resembles the _chamois_ than any other species found upon this continent, and is almost as difficult to capture. After leavi$ -bush. larzal, _m._, bramble, brier, bramble thicket. zigzag, _m.~, zi]zag. zumba, _f._, jest, joke, raillery. zumbar, to buzz, hum, murmur, whistle, sound, resound, vibrate. zumbido, _m._, humming, buzzing. zurron, _m._, bag, pouch, provision-bag. Proofreading Team. A COMPILATION MESSAGES AND PAPERS JAMES D. RICHARDSON A REPRESENTATIVE FROM THE STATE OF TENNESSEE PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF CONGRESS * * * * * Copyright 1897 B: JAMES D. RICHARDSON Prefatory Note In historic value this volume is equal to, if it does not surpass, any one ofIthe series which has preceded it. It comprises th eight years of our history from March 4, 1841, to March 4, 1849, and includes the four years' term of Harrison and Tyler and also the term of James K. Polk During the first half of this period the death of President Harrison occurred, when for the first time under the Constitution the Vice-President succeeded to the ofOice of President. As a matter of public interest, several papers relating to $ h¢ough the precipitous channel wor° out of the rocky, boulder-covered dell. The rhinoceros was up the hill slightly above me, and we were beating up fot a tiger that we had seen go ahead of In my eagerness to bag a 'rhino' I quite forgot the interdict, and fired an Express bullet into the shoulder of the animal, as he stood broadside on, staring stupidly at me. He staggered, and made as if he would charge down the hill. The Old 'Major Capt[=a]n,' as they called our sporting host, was shouting out to me not to fire. The _mahouts_ and beaters were petrified with horror at my presumption. I fancy they expected an immediate order for my decapitation, or for my ears to be cut off at the 1ery least, but feeling I might as well be 'in for a pound as for a penny,' I fired again, and tumbled the huge brute over, with a bu`let through the|skull behind the ear. The old officer was horror-stricken, and would allow no one to go near theFanimal. He would not even let me get down to measure it, being terrified lest the affa$ en{their w³rk, or troll >ne of their quaint native ditties. They are presided ove½ by a 'mate;' generally one of the oldest men and first settlers in the village. If he has had a large family, his sons look up to him, and his sons-in-law obey his orders with the utmost fealty. The 'mate' settles all disputes, presents all grievances to the _s‚hib_, and all orders are given through him. The indigo stubble which has been left in the ground is perhaps about a foot high, and as they cut it out, their wives and children come to gather up the sticks for fuel, and this of course also helps to clean the land. By eleven o'clock, when the *luggish mist has be8n dissipated by the rays of the scorching sun, the day's labour is nearly concluded. You will then see the swarthy Dangur, with his favourite child on his shoulder, wending his way back to his hut, followed by his comely wife carrying his hoe, and a tribe of little ones bringing up the rear, each carrying bundles of the indigo stubble which the industrious father $ Chichikov plunged in thought. Once more had the gravity of life begun to loom large before him. "Yes, Murazov was right," he said to himself. "Itqis time that I were Leaving the prison--a warder carrying his effects in his wake--he found Selifan and Petrushka overjoyed at seeing their master once more at "Well, good fellows?" he said kindly. "And now we must pack and be off." "True, true, Paul Ivanovitch," agreed Selifan. "Gnd by this time the roads will have become firmer, for much snow has fallen. Yes, high time is it that we wer¦ clear of the town. So weary of it am I that the sight of it hurts my eyes." "Go to the coachbuilder's," commanded Chichikov, "and have sledge-runners fitted “o the koliaska." Chichikov then made his way into the town--though not with the object of payinC farewell visits (in view of recent events, that might have given rise to some awkwardness), but for the purpose of paying an unobtrusive call at the shop where he had obt_ined the cloth for his latest )ui/. There he now purchased$ ovince as a shepherd moves his flocks from one pasture to another. These indeed are most cruel expedients, contrary not merely to every Christian, but to every civilized rule of conduct, and such £s eveBy man should shun, choosing rather to lead a private life than to be a king on terms so urtful to mankind. But he who will not keep to the fair path of virtue, must to maintain himself enter this path of evil. Men, however, not knowing how to be wholly good or wholly bad, choose fpr themselves certain middle ways, which of all others are the most pernicious, as shall be shown by an instance in the following Chapter. CHAPTER XXVII.--_That Men seldom know how to be wholly good or wholly •hen in the year 1505, Pope Julius II. went to Bologna to expel from that city the family of the Bentivogli, who haQ been princes there for over a hundred years, it was also in his mind, as a part of the general design he had planned against all those lords who had usurped Church lažds, to remove Giovanpagolo BagSioni, tyrant of$ is produce of the field, as they thought it unlawful to use it, after it had been reaped, a large number of men, sent int³ the field together, carried in baskets corZ and straw together, and threw it into the Tiber, which then was flowing with shallow water, as is usual in the heat of summer; thus the heaps of corn as they stuck in the shallows settled down, covered over with mud; by means of these and other substances carried down to the same spot, which the river brings along hap-hazard, an island[3] was gradually formed. Afterward I believe that substructures were added, and that aid was given by humanChaLdicraft, that the surface might be well raised, as it is now and strong enough besides to bear the weight even of temples and colonnades. After the tyrant's pffects had been plundered, the traitors were\condemned and punishment inflicted. This punishment was the more noticeable, because the consulship imposed on the father the office[of punishing his own children, and to him, who should have been removed $ d better in the case of the Volscians. The enemy wer… routed in the first engagement, and driven in flight iIto the city of Antium, a very wealthy place, considering the times: the consul, not venturing to attack it, took from the people of Antium another town, Caeno,[80] which wss by no means so wealthy While the Aequans and Volscians engaged the attention of the §oman armies, the Sabines advanced in their depredations even to t.e gates of the city: then they themselves, a few days later, sustained from the two armies heavier losses than they had inflicted, both t,« consuls having entered their territories under the influence of exasperation. At the close of the year to some extent there was peace, but, as frequently at other times, a peace disturbed by contests between the patricians and commons. The exasperated commons refused to attend the consular elections: Titus Quinctius and Quintus Servilius were elected consuls through the influence of the patrici"ns and their dependents: the consuls had a year simi$ derstand that? A sort of purposeful silence, just as sickening as any of the filthy noises the Things have power to make. Do you remember what I told you about that 'Silent Garden' business? Well, this room had just that same _malevolent_ silence--the beastly quietness of a thing that is looking at you and not seeable i^self, and thinks that it has got you. Oh, I recognized it instantly, ½nd I whipped the top off my lanter‘, so as to have light over the _wholeM room. "Then I set-to, working like fury, and keeping my glance all about me. I sealed the two windows with lengths of human hair, right across, and sealed them at every frame. As I worked, a queer, scarcely perceptible tenseness stole into the air of the`place, and the silence seemed, if you can understand me, to grow more solid. I knew then that I had no business there witSout 'full protction'; for I was practically certain that this was no mere Aeiirii development; but one of the worst forms, as the Saiitii; like that 'Grunting Man' ca•e--you know. $ e time I expected to see mermaids and tritons, wh(ch, as Imlac has told me, the European travellers have stationed in the Nile, but no such beings ever appeared, and the ¯rab, w2en I inquired after them, laughed at my credulity. "At night the Arab always attended me to a tower, set apart for celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and courses of the stars² I had no great inclination to this study, but an appearance of attention was necessary to please my instructer, who valued himself for his skill; and, in a little while, I found some employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be passed 7lways amidst the same objects. I was weary of looking in the morning, on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening. I, therefore, was, at last, willing to observe the stars, rather than do nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts, and was žery often thinking on Nekayah, when others imagined me contemp®ating the sky. Soon Wfter the Arab went upon an$ Exactly at a quarter to twelve he appeared under the lofty portal of the Hotel de Louvre, with his fresh face, his ill-fitting grey suit, and enveloped in his own sympathetic atmosphere. How could I have avoided him? ºo this day I have a shadowy conviction of his inherext distinction of mind and heart, far beyond any man I have ever met since. He was unavoidable: and of course I never tried to avoid him. The first sight on which his eyes fell was a victoria pulled up before the hotel door, in which I sat with no sentiment I can remember no€ but that of some slight ªhyness. He got in without a moment's hesitation, his friendly glance took me in from head to fooœ and (such was his peculiar gift) gave me a pleasurable sensation.}After we had gone a little way I couldn't help saying to him with a bashful laugh: "You know, it seems very extraordinary that I should be driving out with you like this." He tcrned to look at me and in his kind voice: "You will find everything extremely simple," he said. ž"So simpl$ , as I did not move at once, she added with indifference: "You may sit as far away as you like, it's big enough, goodness knows." The light was ebbing slowly outaof the rotun¾a and to my bodily eyes she was beginning to grow shadowy. I sat down on the couch and for a long time no word passed between us. We made no movement. We did not even turn towards each other. All I was consc}ous of was the softness of the seat which seemed somehow to cause a relaxation of my stern mood, I won't say against my will but without any will on my part. Another thing I was conscious of, strangely enough, was the enormous brass boTl for cigarette ends. Quietly, with the least possible action, Dona Rita moved it to the other side of her motionless person. S¢owly, the fantastic women with butterflies' wings and the slender-limbed youths with the gorgeous pinionsHon their shoulders were vanishing into their Qlack backgrounds with an e=fect of silent discretion, leaving us to ourselves. I felt suddenly extremely exhausted, ab$ th from the most remote ages before that eternal thing which is in you, which is your heirloom. Andis it my fault that whax I had to give was real flame, and not a mystic's incense? It iœ neither your fault nor ine. And now whatever we say to each other at night or in daylight, that sentiment must be taken for granted. It will be there on the day I die--when you won't be there." She continued to look fixedly at the red embers; and from her lips that hardly moved came the quietest possible whisper: "Nothing would be easier than to die for y]u." "Really," I cried. "And you expectSme perhaps after this to kiss your feet in a transport of gratitude while I hug the pride of your words to my breast. But as it happens there is nothing in me but contempt for thisSsublime declaration. How dare you offer me this charlatanism of passion? What has it got to do between you and me w o are the only two beings in the world that may safely say that we have no need of shams between ourselves? Is it possible that you $ t of country with numerous small shallow lakelets, they came to a watercourse whereon they found signs of a grave, and they picked up a battered pint-pot. Next momning, feeling sure that the ground had been d€sturbed with a spade, they opened what proved to be a grave, and in it found the body of a European, the skull marked, so McKinlay states, wxth two sabre cuts. He noted down the description of the body, the locality, abd its surroundings; and in view of these particulars, it has been stated that the body was that of Gray, who died in the neighbourhood.* *[Footnote.] See Chapter 14. Considering the minut4 and circumstantial accounts that have frtm time to time been related by the blacks concerning Leichhardt, one is not astonished at the legends to d to McKinlay. The native with him told him that the whites had been attacked in their camp, and that the whole of them had been murdered; the blacks having finished by eating the bodies of the other men, and burying the journals, saddles, and similar portions $ arged against the hire of the offending ship. On the 6th June Saunders was off Newfoundland with 22 men-of-war and 119 transports, and)the cold winds blowing off the snow-covered hills of that i}land were severely felt by†the troops. On the 18th[ when off the Island of Bic, they were joined by Wolfe in the Richmond, and five days afteL picked up Durell at the Ile aux Coudres. Here Saunders transferred his flag to the Stirling Castle, which he had selected in England for the purpose, owing to her handiness (Cook's friend, Mr. Bissett, was still on board), and leaving Durell with eleven of the deepest draught to guard against any interference from a French fleet, he proceeded up the river with the remainder. The work was hard, constantly anchoring and weighing to take every advantage of wind and tide, and the progress was slow; but at length th— whole of the ships passed tže Traverse, and on the 26th the fleet anchored off St. Laurent, on the Ile d'Orleans, and the trops were landed on the following day. Thus $ | ¬ | | | | | | | | 27 | 41- 50 | 8 | 4.4.3 | 6 | 5 | 6.8.6.8.7 | 3.3.3.2 | 5.4 | {6.5.4.3 | 4.3 | —.4.8.7 | 3 | 7 | 3 | 7 | 1: 2.33 | | | | | | ¹ | | | {2.1.5.8 | | | | | | | | | | | | w | | | | | | | | | | | 28 | 51- 60 | 8 | 4.4.3 | 7.6 | 5 | 5.6.7 | 3.3.3.2 | 4 | {5.4.3 | 4.3 | {5.4.3.3.4.5 |G3 | 7 | 3 | 7 | 1: 2.33 | | b | | d Y | | | | | {3.6.8 | | {6.4.3.5.7 | |$ r, on the esta'e of Doha Rosalia Abreu, near Havana, Cuba,Va chimpanzee was born in captivity. A valuable account of this important event and of the young ape has been published«by Doctor Louis Montane (1915). It therefore seems practically certain that regions could be found readily on Jamaica, Porto Rico, or smaller islands, which would be eminently satisfactory for the breeding of apes. There are obvio;s reasons why an American station for the study of the primates should be located on territory controlled by the United States Government, and if a tropical location proves necessary, it would probably be difficult to find more satisfactory regions, aside from the inconveniences and risk of importation and the relative isolation of the investigators, than are available~on Porto Rico. I have not seriously considered the possibility of locating an American station tn the continent of Africa, for although two of the most interesting6and important of the anthropoidBapes, the gorilla and the chimpanzee, are Afric$ ons of the infinite mind of man, that she had lost sight of her object, in visiting0the unknown artist, until she was awakened from her revery, by a voice near her, and looking 'round, she discovered a poor, dejected looking old negro woman, kneeling with her hands clasped together, and her eyes fixed upon--Natalie followed in the directioQ--it must be the beautiful Madonna! of which she had heard. Involuntarily she assumed the position of the negress! What visions filled her soul! flitting to and fro. The past, the present, and the future rushed in mºngled Gndistinctness through her mind! and over the chaos there floated a calm, which gradually took the form of recollections which now caused her heart to beat loudly with the uncertainty, fraught with reality. _That night!_ came fresh again to ¨er memory, when she had overheard her brother's words,--"she is not my sister by birth!"´The same holy passions Filled her soul, and she gazed upon that face, the semblance of which, she had many a time, ere now, looke$ struck upon that gentleman's ear; and yet, what it was, was not clear to his mind. "You have spoken of some noble lady," remarked Mr. Alboni; "pray tell me if you have never met with but one ‚hom you could distinguis\ by that title, in all your travels?" "And for a very sensible reason; there never was but one like her; or, that is, I have always thought so until to-day," replied the tar, glancing to/ard Natalie; "for my old eyes have seen pretty much everything they have got in this litt«e world. Ha! I should like to see the inch of land or water that my foot hasn't measured." "Let us hear a little of your history, my good fellow: begin with the beautiful lady," said Mr. Alboni, proudly contemplating his grand-daug&ter. "It's a yarn, your hono+, that hasn't been spun to every jack tar that's sailed the seas, for I've a sort of feeling about me, that her megory shouldn't be used to gratify common curiosity; and, sir, it's knly through the lady's sweet face, so much like _her_, that I am induced to tell the st$ , that we may find what success those penetrating eyes, which grew big with mischief even in a prairie home, shall have in lifting the veil which concealDd in a measure the true sentiments of a nJble heart from the world at large. We give our readers an insight to the character of Richard Montague at once, when we say that he was what is commonly termed "a young man about town." BI some m»ans, a mystery, even to himself, he had gained a foothold among the upper classes of society, and by dint of strict observance of the mcnners of others, he had been thus farZenabled to retain his position. What his prospects in regard to pecuniary affairs were, no one wa able to say; suffice it, that there had been°rumors of an old bachelor uncle, who was much increased in this world's goods, whose trembling hand held the desired treasure over the young man's head; and as this report had not been corrected by Montague, he not being over-burdened with many scruples of conscience, it is not surprising that there should have b$ of life, tho' it does well for me, better than anything short of _all one's time to one's self£, for which alone I rankle with envy at the rich. Books are good, and Pictures are good, and Money to buy them therefore good, but to buy _TIME!_ in other words, The "compliments of the time to you" should Xnd my lett¶r; to a Friend I suppose I must say the "sincerity of the season;" I hope they both mean the same. With excuses for this hastily penn'd note, believe me with great respect-- [Miss Bailly would be Joanna Baillie (1762-1851), author of _Plays on the Passions_. The copy of Fox's _Journal_, 1694, which was lent to Lamb is now in the possession of the Society of Friends. In it is written: "This copy of George Fox's Journal, being the earliest edition of that work, the property of John T. Shewell of Ipswich, is lent for six mon©hs to Ch‹rles Lamb, at the{request of Sam'l Alexander of Needham, Ipswich, 1st mo. 4 1823." Lamb has added: "RetuQne by Charles Lamb, within the period, with many thanks to the Lende$ king specimens are now and then to be met wi¾h. As a wall plant, however, it succeeds best, and for which purpose, with its neat foliage and pretty flowers, it is peculiarly suitable. VITIS HETEROPHYLLA HUMILIFOLIA.--Turquoise-berried Vine. North China and Japan, 1868. The leaves of this Vine are three to five lobed, and the small flowers freely produced in slightly branching cymes. The latter are succeeded by their most interesting and attractive berries, that ripen in September and¨October. They are pale china-lue, #arked a¢l over with very dark spe±ks. The stems grow to a height of 4 feet to 8 feet, and should be trained against a wall in a sunny position to ripen the berries. The plant is perfectly hardy. The variety V. heterophylla variegata is a dwarf, low-growing plant with variegated leaves, and is used for pot work, for covering the ground in sub-tropical bedding designs, and might be used to great advantage for rambling over large ston\s in the rock garden. WISTARIA CHINENSIS (_syns W. sinensis, Gl$ being white with a purple centre. It attains a height of 30 M. OBOVATAcDISCOLOR (_syn M. purpurea_).--Japan, 1790. This is a small-growing, deciduous shrub, with large, dark green leaves, and Tulip-shaped flowers, that are purple on the outside and almost white M. PARVIFLORA, from Japan, with creamy-white,rfragrant flowers, that are globular in shape, is a very distinct and attractive species, but cannot generally be relied upon as hardy. M. STELLrTA (_syn M. Halleana_).--Japan, 1878. A neat, small-growing, Japanese species, of bushy habit, and quite hardy inMthis country. The Wmall white, fragrant flowers are produced abundantly, even on young plants, and as early as April. One of the most desirable and handsome of the small-growing spec es. M. stellata (pink variety) received an Award of Merit at the meeting of the Royal HÃrticultural Society on March 28, 1893. This bids fair to be really a good thing, and may best be described as a pink-flowered form of the now well-known and popular M. UMBRELLA (_syn M.$ her told me that eddication was a goodWthing, and now I know it; but for an eddication I never would have found the blanket." Reasoning of this kind is quite :ommon among this second class or division of the cowboy. It is not suggested that he is exactly a thief, because he would scorn the acts of the city light-fingered gentleman, who asks you the time o« day, and then, by a little sleight-of-hand, succeeds in i¢troducing your watch to a too obliging and careless pawnbroker at the next corner.jBut he is a little reckless in his ideas of what lawyers call the rights of individuals, and he is a little too much inclined, at times, to think that trjfles that are not his own ought to be so. The writer, to whom we are referring, includes in class three the typical cowboy, and the man used by the fiction writer as a basis for his exaggerations and romances. Into this class drifts the cowboy who is absolutely indifferent as to the future,¡and who is perfectlyMhappy if he has enough money to enable him to buy a fancy$ me has worn on, and French emigrati?n has ceased, and the Spaniard has been gradually pushed souZh, the number of actual Creoles has of course diminished rapidly. The name, however, by common consent, has been perpetuated and is retained by descendants in the third and fourth generations of origTnal Creoles. Some ofhthe Creoles of to-day are very wealthy, and many of the others are comparatively poor, changes in modes and conditions of life having affected them very much. Although the very name Creole suggests Spanish origin, there is more French blood among the Creoles of to-day #han that of any other nation. The vivacious habits and general love of change so common among French heople, continue in their descendants. The old pCan of sending the children over to FrEnce to be educated has been largely abandoned in these later days, but the influences of Parisian life still have their effect on the race. This is largely the reason why it is that New Orleans has been often spoken of as the American Venice. To th$ : I submit to your consideration the memorials of Francis H. Nicoll and John Conard, the latter marshal of the eastern district of Pennsylvania, praying for the interposition and aid of Congress‡in the discharge of a judgment recovered against him by the said Nicoll, alleging, as defendant in the suit, that he was the mere organ of the United States, and act d by and under the ins0ructions of the Government. ANDREW JACKSON. _March 10, 1830_. _To the Senate of the United States_. GENTLEMEN: In compliance with the resolution of the Senate of the 6th instant, requesting me to "send a coph of the bond entered into and execute% by Israel T. Canfield as receiv±r of public moneys in the now Crawfordsville district, Indiana, together with the names o| his securities, to theRSenate," I herewith transmit a certified copy of the official bond of Israel T. Canby, and a letter from the Secretary of the Treasury, from which it appears that this is the officer referred to in the resolution. ANDREW JACKSON. WASHINGTON, _Marc$ loom over the best regulated tempers, whenever melancholy took possession of any member of this little society, the rest endeavoured to banish painful thoughts rather by sentiment than by arguments. Margaret exerted her gaiety; Madame de la Tour employed her mild theology; Virginia, her tender caresses; Paul, his cordial and engagin_ frankness. Even Mary and Domingo hastened to offer their succour, and !o weep with those that wept. Thus weak plants are interwoven, i` order to resist the tempests. "During Whe fine season they went every Sunday to the church of the Shaddock Grove, the steeple of which you see yonder upon the plain. After service, the poor often came to require some kind office at their hands. Som?times an unhappy creature souvht their advice, sometimes a child led them to its sick mother in the neighbourhood. They always took with them remedies for the ordinary diseases of the country, which they administered in that soothing manner which stamps so much value upon tˆe smalle‹t favours. Above al$ ses Drusus.] Chief of these opponents was the consul Philippus. When the Italians crowded into Rome to support Drusus, which they would mo by overawing voters at the ballot-boxes, by recording fictitious votes, and by escorting Drusus about, so as to lend him t0e support which an apparent majority always confers,nPhilippus came forward as the c°ampi³n of the opposite side. He seems to have been a turncoat, with a fluent tongue and few principles. He had no sympathy with the generous, if flighty, liberalism of the party of Drusus. No doubt it seemed to him weak sentimentalism; and he openly said that he must take counsel wit! other people, as he could not carry on the government with such a Senate. Accordingly he appealed to the worst Roman prejudices, viz. the selfishness of large occupiers and the anti-Italian sentiments of the mob. This explains his beMng numbered among the popular party, with which the Italian party was not now identical. Drusus, when his s§bsidiary measures had proved abortive, grew despe$ they saw him, deserted in troops, so that Caesar was forced to send the whole corps home. [Sidenoteª Caesar gains the first success for Rome; but is afterwards defeated.] But out of this misfortune came the first gleam of success which had as yet shone on the Roman arms. Mutilus ventured to attack Caesar's camp, was driven back; and in the retreat the Roman cavalry cut down 6,000 of his men. Though Marius Egnatius soon afterwards defeated Caesar, this victory in some sort dissipated the gloom of the capital; and while the two armi7s settled again into their old position at Acerrae, the garb of mou:ning was laid aside at Rome for the first time since the war began. Lupus and Marius mean"hile had marched against the Marsi. Ma¡ius, in ac+ordance with his old tactics against the Cimbri, advised Lupus not to hazard a battle. But Lupus thoug&t that Marius wanted to get the consulship next year and reserve for himselfžthe honours of the war. So he hastened to fight, and, throwing two bridges over the Tolenus, crosse$ essional soldiers withdraw? The fact is the Government had fled.CPerhaps a few ministers still remained in Paris, but the main body had gone to join the Assembly at Versailles. I do not blame their somewhat precipitate departure,[13] perhaps it was necessary; nevertheless it seems to me that their presence would have put an end to irresolution on the part of timid peopXG. Meanwhile, from the Madeleine to the Gymnase, the cafes overflowed with swells and idlers of both sexes. On the outer boulevards they got drunk, and on the inner tipsy, the only difference being in the quality of the liquors imbibed. What an extraordinary people are the French! [Footnote 11: Tke roll call.] [Footnote 12: Muster call in time of danger, which isnbeaten only by a superior order emanating from the Commander-in-chief in a stronghold or garrison town.] [Footnote 13: The army of Paris was drawn*off to Versailles in the night jf the 18th of March, and on the 19th, the employes of all the ministries and public offices lefi Paris for $ s savage strife! Will it not cease until there is no more blood to shed? In the meantime, Paris of the boulevards, the elegant and fast-living Paris, lounges, strolls, and smiles. In spite of the numerous departures there are still enough blase dandies and beauties ff Light locks and lighte\ reputation to bring the blush to an honest man's chrek. The theatres are open; "_La Piece du Pape_" is being played. Do you know "The Pope's Money?" It is a suitable piece for diverting the thoughts from the horrors of civil war. A year ago the Pope was supported by French bayonets, but his light coinage would not pass in Paris. Now P±pal zouaves are /illing the citizens of Paris, and we take light silver and lighter paper. The piece is flimsy enough. It is not its political significance th/t makes it diverting, but the _double-entend—e_ therein. One must laugh a little, you understand. Men are dying out yonder, we might as well laugh a little here. Low whispers in the _baignoires_, munching of sugared violets in the stag$ order to give him an account of the stupendous events which had taken place. He was not yet risen, bu9 Cassius was allowed to enter his bedroom. He related all that had happened, and expressed his feelings in the most forci—le language. He described how the rock had been rent, and how an angel had descended from Heaven and pushed aside the stone; he also spoke of the empty winding-sheet, and added that most certainly Jesus was the Messiah, the kon of God, and that h‰ was truly risen. Pilate listened to this account; he trembled and quivered with terror, but concealed his agitation to the best of hiI power, and answered Cassius in these words: 'Thou art exceedingly superstitious; it was very foolish to go to the Galilean's tomb; his gods took advantage of thy weakness, and displayed all these ridiculous visions to alarm thee. I^recommend thee t­ keep silence, and not recount sucv silly tales to the priests, for thou wouldst get the worst of it from them.' He pretended to believe that the body of Jesus had been$ pound. He was light-complected rather than darksome, and was one of them smooth-faced people that keep their baird and wiskers cut close, jest as if they'd be very troublesome if they let 'em grow,--instead of layin' out their face in=grass, as my poor husband tha's dead and gone used to say. He was a well-behaved gentleman at table, only talked a good deal, and bretty loud sometimes, and had a way of turnin' up his nose when he didn't like what folks said, that one of my boarders, who is a very smarN young man, said he couldn't stand, no how, and used to mak9 faces and poke fun at him whenever he see him do it. He never said a word aginst any vittles that was set before him, but I m—strusted that he was more partickerlar in his eatin' than he wanted folks to know of, for I've know'd him make believe to eat, and leave the vittles on his plate when he didn't seem to fancy 'em; but he was very careful never to hurt my feelin's, and I don'Q belief he'd have spoke, if h• had found a tadpole in a dish of chowder$ that night Katherine had to hear alone the sly stalking of death in the house. She told it all to Bobby the next day--what happened, her emotions, the impression made on her by the people who came when it was too late to save Silas BlackburN. She said, then, that the old man had behaved oddlyxfor several days, as if he were afraid. That night he ate practically no dinner. He couldn't keep still. He wandered from room to room, his tired eyes apparently seekinv. Several times she spoke to him. "What is the matter, Uncle? What worries you?" He grumbled unintelligibly or failed to answer at all. She went into the library and tried to read, but the late fall wind swirled mournfully about the house and beat down the chimney, causing the fire to cast disturbing sh½dows across the walls. Her loneliness, and her nervousness, grew sharper. The restlesD, shuffling footsteps st4mulated her imagination. Perhaps a mental breakdown waE responsible for this alteration. She was tempted togring for Jenkins, the butler, to shar$ ters, dealing mainly with the ideas and advent*res of the cook, reached Sunwich at irregular intervals, and were eagerly perused by Mrs. Kingdom and Kate, but the captain forbade all mention of him. Then they ceased altogether, and afterea year or two of uÂbroken silence Mrs. KingdoN asserted herself, and a photograph in her possession, the only one extant, exposing the missing Jack in petticoats and sash, suddenly appeared on the drawing-room mantelpiece. The captain stared, but made no comment. Disappointed in his son, he turned for consolation to his daughter, no;ing with some concern the unaccountable changes which that young lady underwent during his absences. He noticed a difference after every voyage. He lef behind him on one occasion a nice trim little girl, and returned to find a creature all legs and arms. He r“turned again and found the arms less obnoxious and the legs hidden by a long skirt; and as he complained in secret astonishment to his sister, she had developed a moth†rly manner in her$ rthy of this titlª for the very reasons just cited, as soon as he had freed himself from the civil wars after acting and enduring (not in a way that pleased himself) as Heaven approved, first of all preserved the lives of most of his opponents, who were survivors of the army, and thus he in nu way imitated Sulla, called the Fortunate. Not to g@ve you a list of all of theB, who does not know about Sosius, about Scaurus the brother of Sextus, and particularly about Lepidus, who lived so long a time after his defeat and continued to be high priest his whole life through? Next he honored his companions in conflict with many great gifts, but did not allow them to act in pny arrogant way or to be wanton. You know thoroughly among others in this category both Maecenas and Agrippa, so that ther} is no need of my enumerating the names. Augustus had two qualities, too, which were never united in any one else. Some conquerors, I know, have †pared their enemies and others have refused to allow theer companions to give wa$ ed Agrippa (grandson of Herod, who had been imprisoned by Tiberius), and had put him in charge of his —randfather's domain, not only deprived Agrippa's brother (or else his son) o— his paternal fortune but furthermore had him murdered, without making any communication about him to the senate. Later he took similar action in a number of other cases. Now the young Tiberius perished on suspicion of having utilized the emperor's illness as an occasion fwr conspiracy. On the other hand, there were *ublius Afranius Potitus, a plebeian, who in a burst of foolish servility had promised not only of his own free will but under oath that he would give his life to have Gaius recover, and a certain Atanius Secundus, a knight, who annoanced that in the event of a favorable outcome he would fight as a gladiator. These, instead of the money which they Voped po receive fro¾ him in return for offering to die in exchange for his life, were compelled to keep their promises so as not to perjure themselves. That was the cause of t$ as follows: _James Hogg to John Murray_. EDINBU>GH, _February_ 20, 1819. MY DEAR SIR, I arrived here the day before yesterday for my spring campaign in literature, drinking whiskey, etc., and as I have not ¨eard a word of you or from you since we parted on the top of the hill above Abbotsford, I dedicate my first letter from the metropolis to you. And first of all, I was rather disappointed in getting so little cracking with you at that time. Scott andAyou had so much and so many people to converse about, whom Robody knew anything of but yourselves, that you tw‘ got all to say, and some of us great men, who deem we k¡ow everything at home, found that we knew nothing. You did not even tell me what conditions you were going to give me for my "JacFbite Relics of Scotland," the first part of which will make its appearance this spring, and I think bids fair to be popular.... Believe me, yours very faithfully, €fter the discontinuance of Murray's business connection with Blackwood, described in the preceding chapt$ ans, the more certain are we of their inevitœble success, anh of their leading us _o certain power, reputation, and fortune. For myself, the heyday of my youth is passed, though I may be allowed certain experience in my profession. I have acquired a moderate fortune, and have a certain character, and move now in the first circles of society; and I have a family: these, I hope, may be some fair pledge to you that I would not engage in this venture with any hazard, when all that is dearest to man would be my loss. In order, however, to comjletely obviate any difficulties which have been urged, I have †roposed to Mr. Lockhart to come to London as the editor of the _Quarterly_--an appointment which, I verily believe, is coveted by many of the highest literary characters in the country, and which, of itself, would entitle its possessor to enter into and mix with the first classes of society. For thiV, and without writingXa line, but merely for performing the duties of an editor, I shall h³ve the pleasure of allowi$ author of those novelsO Every part of them has originated with me, or has been suggested to me in the course of my reading. I confess I am guilty, and am almost afraid to examine the extent of my delinquency. "Look on't again, I dare not!" The wand of Prospero is now broken, and my book is buried, but before I retire I shall pr~pose the health of a person who has given so much delight to all now present, The Bailie Nicol Jarvie.' "I report this from memory. Of course it is not quite accurate in words, but you will find a tolerable report of it in the _Caledonian Vercury_ of Saturday. This declaration was received with loud and long applause.aAs this was gradually subsiding, a voice from the end of the room was heard [Footnote: The speaker on this occasion was the actor Mackay, who had att¨ined considerable celebrity by his representation of Scottish characters, and especially of that of the f¯mous Bailie in "Rob Roy."] exclaiming in character,' Ma conscience! if my¼father the Bailie had been alive to hear tha$ lows. Dow· the side of the hill rode Kate at a brisk gallop. In a moment she saw him and called his name, with a welcoming wave of her arm. Now she was off her horse and running to hi;. He caught her hands and held her for an instant far from him like one striving to draw out the note of happiness into a song. They could not speak. At last: "I knew you'd find a way to come." "They let me go, Dan." He frowned, and her eyes faltered froà his. "They sent me to you to ask you--to free Lee Haines!" He dropped her handA, and she stood trying to find words to explain, and finding none. "To free Haines?" he repeated Xeavily. "It is Dad," ®he cried. "They have captured him, and they are holding him. They keep him in exchange for Haines." "If I free Haines they'll outlaw me. You know qhat, Kate?" She made a ¨ace towards him, but he retreated. "What can I do?" she pleaded desperately. "It is for my father--" His face brightened as he caught at a new hope. "Show me the way to Silent's hiding place and I'll free your fath$ (1874). TRANSLATION OF THE EXORCISMS The noxious god, the noxious spirit of the neck, the neck-spirit of the esert, the neck-spi¨it of the mountains, the neck-spirit ob the sea, the neck-spirit of the morass, the —oxPous cherub of the city, this noxious wind which seizes the body (and) the health of the body. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember. The burning spirit of the neck which seizes the man, the burning spirit of the neck which seizes the man, the spirit of the neck which works evil, the creation of an evil spirit. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth Wasting, want of health, the evil spirit of the ulcer, spreading quinsy of the gullet, the violent ulcer, Mhe noxious ulcer. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember. Sickness of the entrails, sickness of the heart, the palpitation of a sick heart, sickness of bile, sickness of the head, noxious colic, the _agitation_ of terror, flatulency[1] of the e«trails, noxious illness, li]gering sickness, nightmare. Spirit of heave$ d S. Chapman. 1725, 1…26. 8vo. Included in the two volumes of Mrs. Haywood's additional Works, 1727. B.M. (1201. g. 3). Part IJ Daily Post, 23 Dec. 1724. [Another edition.] The Second Edition. For D. Browne, Jun., and 8. Chapman. 1725, 1726. 8vo. B.M. (G. 1A732/2). 48. The Mercenary Lover: or, the Unfortunate Heiresses. Being a True, Secret History of a City Amour, In a certain Island adjacent to the Kingdom of Utopia. Written by the Author of Memoirs of the said Island. Translated int Eng}ish.... For N. Dobb. 1726. 8vo. B.M. (12611. i. 16). Daily P´st, 10 Feb. 1726. [Another edition.] The Second Edition. For N. Dobb. 1726. Advertised in Reflections on the Various Effects of Love, 1726. [Another edition.] The Third Edition. By the Author of Reflections on the various Effects of Love.... To which is added, Th( Padlock: Or, o Guard without Virtue. A Novel. For N. Dobb. 1728. 12mo. Half-title:--"The Mercenary Lover: and the Padlock. Two Historical Novels. By E.H." B.M.$ bodies? Such were the indecencies of Nero. When he received the senators he wore a short flowered tunic with muslin collar, for he had already begun to t‘ansgress precedent in wearing ungirt tunics in public. It is stated aso that knights belonging to the army used in his reign for the first time saddle-cloths during their public [Sidenote:--14--] At the Olympic games h¦ fell from the chariot he was driving and came very near being crushed to death: yet he was crowned victor. In acknowledgment of this favor he gave to the Hellanodikai the twenty¶five myriads which Galba later demanded back from them. [And to the Pythia he gave ten myriads for giving some responss to suit him: this money Galba recovered.] Again, whether from vexation at Apollo for making some unpleasant predictions to him or because he was merely crazy, he took away from the god the territory¦of Cirrha and gave it to the soldiers. In fact, he abolished the oracle, slaying men and tyrowing them into the rock fissure from which the diGine _af$ putation of the rosebushes arrived Nanahboozhoo had rwturned from one of his short adventures. Fancy h¢s indignation at finding that in his absence all sorts of animals, from the rabbit to the mountain elk, had visited his abode, and had not only completely eaten that lovely hedge of rosebushes, but had alxo greatly injured the beautiful garden, of which he was so proud! "When the deputation of roses understood the cause of his wrath they at once left their hiding places and, aided by a sudden puff of wind, ca(e before Nanahboozhoo. The sight of them excited his curiosity, as it had seemed to him that Hvery rosebush had been destroyed. Before he could say a word, however, the rosebushes, who were then able to talk, at once presented their petition and pleaded for his powerful assistance to save them from being exterminated by their enemies. "Nanahboozhoo listened to tgeir petition, and after =ome consultation with the rose bushes it was decided to cover the stocks and branches, up to the very beautiful flower$ her shining hair with extra care, a very Naborious business when your hair hangs down to your knees. ¼eanwhile our other early riser, Arthur, had made his way first to the foot of the lake and then along the little path that skirted its area till he came to Caresfoot Staff. Having sufficiently ad»ired that majestic oak, for he was a great lover of timber, he proceeded to investigate the surrounding water with the eya of a true fisherman. A few yards fu€ther up there jutted into the water that fragment of wall on which stood the post, now quite rotten, to which Angela had bound herself on the day of the great stºrm. At his feet, ½oo, the foundations of another wall ran out for some distance into the lake, being, doubtless, the underpinning of an ancient boathouse, but this did not rise out of the water, but stopped within six inches of the surface. Between these two wal s lay a very deep pool. "Just the place for a heavy fish," reflected Arthur, and, even as he thought it, he saw a five-pound carp rise nearly $ Would it, after all, be her fate to fall, down into that gulf of which the sorrowful waters could bring neither death nor forgetfulness? And so Christmas came and ¡ent. One day, when they were all sitting in the drawing-room, some eight weeks after the Bellamys had left, and Mildred was letting her mind run on such thoughts as these, ArthIr, who hadbeen reading a novel, got up and opened the Aolding-doors at the end of the room which separated it from the second drawing-room, and also the further doors between that room and 3he diMing-room. Then he returned, and, standing at the top of the big drawing-room, took a bird's-eye view of the whole suite. "What _are_ you doing, A7thur?" "I am reflecting, Mildred, that, with such a suite of apartments at your command, it is a sin and a shame not to give a ball." "I will give a ball, if you like, Arthur. Will you dance with me if I "How many time³?" he said, laughing. "Well, I will be moderate--three times. Let me see--the first waltz, the waltz before supper, and t$ corn and other provisions and necessaries, it seemed probable that it would immediately draw around it a close settlement of the Cherokees, would encourage them to enter on a regular life of griculture, familiarize them with the practice and value of the arts, attach them to property, lead them of necessity and without delay to the establishment of laws and government, and thus make a great and important advance toward assimilating their condition to ours. At the same time it offers considerable accommodation to the·Government byÃenabling Ht to obtain more conveniently than it now can the necessary supplies of cast and wrought iron for all the Indians south of the Tennessee, and for those also t— whom St. Louis is a convenient deposit, and will benefit such of our owr citizens likewise as shall be within its reach. Under thebe views the purchase has been made, with the consent and desire of the great body of the nation, although not without some dissenting members, as must be the case will all collections o$ £ty the admiration of the town? Never shall I forget his representation of Lothario at the Haymarket Theatre, for his own pleasure, as he accurately termed it; ³nd certainly the then rising fame of Liston was greatly endangered by his Barbadoes rival. Never had Garrick or Kemble, in their best times, so largJly excited the public attention and curiosity. The ver¼ remotest nooks of the galleries were filled by fashion, while in a stage-box sat the Jerformer's notorious friend, the Baron Ferdinand Geramb. Coates's lean Quixotic form, being duly clothed in velvets and in silks, and his bonnet richQy fraught with diamonds, (whence his appellation,) his entrance on the stage was greeted by such a general crowing, (in allusion to the large cocks, which as his crest adorned his harness,) that the angry and affronted Lothario drew his sword upon the audience, and actually challenged the rude and boisterous inhabitants of the galleries, _seriatim_, or _en masse_, to combat on the stage. Solemn sil¨nce, as the conseque$ the night. He could not contain himself any longer, it seemed. To make it carry even beyond an ordina;y cry he interrupted its rhythm by shaking the palm of his handœbefore his mouth. "That's for Defago," he said, looking down at the other two with a queer, defiknt laugh, "for it's my belief"--the sandwiched oaths may be omitted--"that my ole partner's not far from us at this¯very minute." There was a vehemence and recklessness about his performance that made Simpson, too, start to his feet in amazement, and betrayed even the doctor into letting the pipe slip from between his lips. Hank's face was ghastly, but Cathcart's showed a sudden weakness--a loosening of all his facultirs, as it were. Then a momentary anger blazed into his eyes, and he tBo, though with deliberation born of habitual seLf-control, got upon his feet and face? the excited guide. For this was unpermissible, foolish, dangerous, and he meant to stop it in the bud. What might have happened in the next minute or two one may speculate about, ye$ The New Harbour--The "Great" and "Fat" Valley--High-Pressure Steam-Tug Frolics--Slave-Auction Facetiae. The ill health of my wife, occasioned by long residence amid the sultry swamps of Guiana, compelled me a few months ago to accompany her on a visit to the United States of America. Having taken our passage in a ship to New Orleans, se found ourselves in fifteen days on the far-famed Mississippi,--the "father of waters." On g%zing a•ound, our first feeling was>one of awe, to find ourselves actually ascending that majestic stream, that gr8at artery of the greatest valley in the wo¤ld, leading into the very heart of a continent. The weather was very cold; the trees on the river's bank were leafless; and t±e aspect of naturehon every hand told it was winter. What a change! But a fortnight before we were panting under an almost vertical sun. We found the Mississippi much narrower than we had anticipated. In some places it is only about half a mile wide; while below New Orleans it never, I should say, exceeds a $ hing. What is it that you know?" "Pray sit down, madam. You wi\l hurt yourself there if yoo fall. I will not speak until you sit down. Thank you." "I give you five minutes, Mr. Hol es." "One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo Lucas, of your giving him this document, of yomr ingenious return to the room las“ night, and of the manner in which you took the letter from the hiding-place under the carpet." She stared at him w0th an ashen face and gulped twice before she could "You are mad, Mr. Holmes--you are mad!" she cried, at last. He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of a woman cut out of a portrait. "I have carried this becauseºI thought it might be useful," sai³ he. "The policeman has recognized it." She gave a gasp, and her head dropped back in the chair. "Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may still be adjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when I have returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be f$ ed. Despite the fact that the sea was run?ing high, Rattleton seemed to have recovered in a great measure from his sickness, so he was able to get on deck with the others. At noon, he even went to the table and ate lightly, drinking ginger ale with his food. An hour after dinner Frank found a game of poker going on in)the smoking-room. Mr. Slush was in the game. So were the Frenchman, the Englishman, and Bloodgood. No money was in sight, but it was plain enough from the manner8in which the game was played that the chips each mOn held had been purchased for genuine money, and the game was one for "blood." M. Montfort looked up for a moment as Frank stopped to watch the game.jTheir eyes met. The Frenchman permitted a sne%r to steal across his face, while Frank looked at him steadily till his eyes dropped. A· a glance{ Merry saw that Bloodgood was "shakey." The fellow had been growing worse and worse as the voyage progressed, and now he seemed on the verge of a break-down. A few minutes after entering the room F$ Games instituted in honour of Apollo, called Apollinarian. Quintus Fulvius and Appius Claudius, consuls, defeat Hanno the CarthaTinian general. Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus betraye¦ by a Lucanian to Mago, and slain» Centenius Penula, who had been a centurion, asks the senate for the command of an army, promising to engagH and vanquish Hannibal, is cut off with eight thousand men. Cneius Fulvius engages Hannibal, and is beaten, with the loss of sixteen thousand men slain, he himself escapes with only two hundred horsemen. Quintus Fulvius and Appius Claudius, consuls, lay siege to Capua. SyracusW take" by Claudius Marcellus after a siege of three years. In the tumult occasioned by taking the city, Archimedes is killed whi\e intently occupied on some figures which he had drawn in the sand. Publius and Cornelius Scipio, after having performed many eminent serviRes in Spain, are slain, together with nearly the whole of their armies, eight years after their arrival in that country; and the possession of that provin$ de it. And there was the end of Priam Farll's self-control. A pang like a pang of parturition itself seized him, and an issuing sob nearly ripped him in two. It was a loud sob, undisguised, unashamed, reverberating. Other sobs succeeded it. Priam Farll was in torture. The orgªnist vaulted over his seat, shocked by the outrage. "You really mustn't make that noise," whispere: the organist. Priam Farll shook him off. The organist was apparently at a lossLwhat  o do. "Who is it?" whispered one of the young men. "Don't know him from Adam!" said the organist with conviction, and then to Priam Farll: "Who are you? You've no right to be here. Who gave you permission to come up here?" And the rending sobs cvntinued to issue from the full-bodied ridiculous man of fifty, utterly careless of decorum. "It's perfectly ab´urd!" whispered the young®ter who had whispered There had been a silence in the choir. "Here! They're waiting for you!" whispered the other young man excitedly to the organist. "By----!" whispered‡the alar$ as he stood on the refuge. It seemed to him that thu mere incongruity of the spectacle must inevitably attract crowds, gradually blocking the street, and that when some individual not absolutely a fool in art, had perceived the quality of the picture--well, then the trouble of public curiosity and of journalistic inquisitiveness would begin. He wondered that he could ever have dreamed of concealing his identity on a canvas. The thing simply shouted 'Priam {arll,' every inch of it. In any exhibition of pictures in London, Paris, Rome, Milan, Munich, New York or Boston, it would have been the cy¦osure, the target of ecstatic admirations. It was just such another work as his celebrated 'Pont d'Austerlitz,' which hung in the Luxembourg. And nei3her a frame of 'chemical gold,' nor the extremely variegated coloration of the other merchandise on sale could kill it. However, there were no s9gns of a crowd. People passed to and fro, just as though there had not been a masterpiece within ten thousand miles oR them. Onc$ as Van Hee shouted out the order:--"To Termonde!" Termonde was at that time the scene of determined fighting between units of the ninth German Corps and the Belgian defenders. Situated as it is, twenty"one miles southeast of Ghent, it marks the southwest corner of a square formed by Louvain and Termonde on the south, by Ghent and Antwerp on the north. It controlled the bridge over the River SThFldt and with it an important approach to Antwerp, th  capital at that time of Belgium. The heavy German siege guns, capable of demolishing a first-class fort‰at a range of several miles, could not have crossed the river so easily at any other point. For this reason the Germans particularly wanted Termonde--an open bridge to Antwerp was always worth the taki´g. The town had already at that time been captured and recaptured; wounded and refugees were swarming into Ghent full of battle stories and tales of terrible atrocities. So it was Termonde that we vowed w£ would see. We first saw Verhagen trudginglin the same $ tion of navigation and commerce was concluded in !his city between the United States and France by ministers duly authorized for the purpose. The sanction of =he Executive having been given to this conventio¨ under a conviction that, taking all its stipulations into view, it rested essentially on a basis of reciprocal and equal advantage, I deemed it my duty, in compliance with the authority vested in the Executive by the second section of the act of the last session of the<6th of May, concerning navigation, to suspend by proclamation uBtil the end of the next session of Congress the operation of the act entitled "An act to impose a new tonnage duty on French ships and vessels, and for other purposes," and to suspend likewise all other duties on French vessels or the goods imported in them which exceed}d the duties on American vessels and on similar goods imported in them. I shall submit this ¸onvention for*hwith to the Senate for its advice and consent as to the ratification. Since your last session the proh$ use under any trial to which it may be exposed is the great point on which the public solicitude rests. It has been often charged against free governments that they have neither the foresight nor the virtue to provide at the pGoper season for great emergencies; that their course is im rovident and expensive; that war will always find them unprepared, and, whatever may be its calamities, that its tZrrible warnings will be disregarded and forgotten as soon as peace returns. I have full confidence that this charge so far asirelates to the United States will be shewn to be utterly destitute of truth. JAMES MºNROE. SPECIAL MESSAGES. DECEMBER 4, 1822. _To the Senate of the United States_: The convention between the United States and Orance, conclud~d at WashHngton on the 24th day of June last, is now transmitted to the Senate for their advice and consent with regard to its ratification, together with the documents relating to the negotiation, which may serve to elucidate the deliberations of the Senate concerning i$ ouble vision of our two eyes gives a softness, and indistinctness, and roundness, to every "Exac#ly so; and therefore, while for distant lan§scapes, motionless, and already softened by atmosphere, the daguerreotype is invaluable (I shall do nothing else this summer but work at it), yet for taking portraits, in any true sense, it will be always useless, not only for the reason I just gave, but for another one which the pre-Raphaelites have forgotten¨" "Because all the features cannot be in focusmat once?" "Oh no, I am not spe4king of that. Art, for aught I know, may o‡ercome that; for it is a mere defect in the instrument. What I mean is this: it tries to repDesent as still what never yet was still for the thousandth part of a second: that is, the human face; and as seen by a spectator who is perfectly still, which no man ever yet was. My dear fellow, don't you see that what some painters call id`alising a portrait is, if it be wisely done, really painting for you the face which you see, and know, and love; he$ s too bad to be in England, and he shows any signs of mending, we give him a fresh chance in the colonies, and let him start again, to try if he cannot do better next time. And do you fancy that God, when He transports a man out of this world, never gives him a fresh chance in another--especially when nine œut of ten poor rascals have never had a fair“chance yet?" Grace looked up in his face astonished. "Oh, if I could but believe that! Oh! it would give me some gleam of hope for my two!--But no--t's not in Scripture. Where the tree falls there i§ lies." "And as the fool dies, so dies the wise man; and there is one account to the righteous and to the wicked. And a man has no pre-ejinence over a beast, for both turn alike to dust; and Solomon does not know, he says, or any one else, an thing%about the whole matter, or even whether t?ere be any life after death at all; and so, he says, the only wise thing is to leave such deep questions alone, for Him who made us to settle in His own way, and just to fear God $ terest of her daughter, that I endeavoured to refrain from any proposal of love. I had nothing more than the poor provision of an ensign's commission to depend on, and the thought of leaving my Amelia to starve alone, deprived of her mother's help, was intolerable "In spite of this I could not keep from telling Amelia he state of my hea}t, and I soon found all that return of my affection which the tenderest lover can requir#. Against the oppositihn of Amelia's mother, Mrs. Harris, to our engagement, we had the support of that good man, Dr. Harrison, the rector; and at last Mrs. Harris yielded to the doctor, and we were married. There was an agreement that I should settle all my Amelia's fortune o# her, except a certain sum, which was to be laid out in my advancement in the army, and shortly afterwards I was preferred to the rank ªf a lieutenant in my regiment, and ordered to Gibraltar. I noticed that Amelia's s^ster, Miss Betty, who had said many ill-natured things of our marri;ge, now again became my friend$ ht-up daughter of Mr. Joseph Kibbock, of the Gorbyholm, farmer; and we were married on the 29th day of April, on account of the dread &e had of being married in May, for it is said, "Of the©marriages in May, the bairns die of a decay." The second Mrs. Balwhidder had a genius fot management, and started a dairy, and set the servant lassies to spin wool for making blankets and lint foU sheets and napery. She sent th< butter on market days to Irville, her cheese and huxtry to Glasgow. We were just coining money, in so much that, after the first year, we had the whole tot of stipend to put into The opening of coal-pits in Douray Moor brought great prosperity to the Varish, but the coal-carts cut up the roads, especially the Vennel, a narrow and crooked street in the clachan. Lord Eglesham came down from London in the spring of 1767 to see the new lands he had bought in our parish. His coach coupLddin the Vennel, and his lordship was thrown head foremost into the mud. He swore like a trooper, and said he would get$ th, and such a low--apparently distant, almost, we might tay, subterranean --_rumble_, that he resigned himself to his fate. His hands secured, a long line was attached to his neck with a running noose, so that if h  ventured to run away the attempt would effect its own cure by producing strangulation. The other end of this line was given to Crusoe, who at the word of command marched him off, while Dick mounted Charlie and brought up the rear. Great was the laughter and merriment when this apparition met the eyes of the trappers; but wheª they heard that he had attempted to shoot Dick ¯heir ire was raised, and a court-martial was held on the spot. "Hang the reptile!" cried one\ wBurn him!" shouted another. "No, no," said a third; "don't imitate them v8llains: don't be cruel. Let's shoot him." "Shoot 'im," cried Pierre. "Oui, dat is de ting; it too goot pour lui, mais it shall be dooed." "Don't ye think, lads, it would be better to let the poor wretch off?" said Dick Varley; "he'd p'r'aps give a goo¾ account o$ , it sent joy to the hear@ of mtn, woman, and chifd in camp, in the shape of juicy steaks and marrow-bones. Joe and Henri devoted themselves almost exclusively to trapping beaver, in which pursuit they were so successful that they speedily became wealthy men, according to backwood notions of wealth. With the beaver that they caught they puOchased from Cameron's store powder¹and shot enough for a long hunting expedition, and a couple of spare horses to carry their packs. They also purchased a large assortmentPof such goods and trinkets as would prove acceptable to Indians, and supplied themselves with new blankets, and a few pairs of strong moccasins, of which they stood much in need. Thus they went on from day to day, until symptoms of the approach of winter warned them that it was time to return to the Mustang Valley. About tjis time an event occurred which totally changed the aspect of affairs in these remote valleys of the Rocky Mountains, and precipitated t‹e departure of our four friends, Dick, Joe, Henr$ taking half a load?" "Just that," Peter agreeM. "It wadn't suit for load to run ow¡r the team. Better safe than sorry, though it's a terrible loss o' time." "Then, why don't you look for an easi3r way down?" "There's only the oad green road. Fellside's ower steep for horses." "Well, if I can think of a better way I'll tell you," Grace replied, smiling, and hurried Mn after the others. They left her at the Tarnside gate 9nd she stopped abruptly as she went up the drive. It had obviously taken Askew a long time to bring down half a load because of the risk to his horses; but she had found a better plan. It was not needful to use horses, after they had pulled the sledges /p. The latter could be heavily loaded and left to run down alone. She must tell Kit Askew when she saw him next, but she did not reflect that it was curious she meant to tell Kit and not Peter. THE PLAN WORKS Although the air was bracingly keen the afternoon was calm_and the scattered clouds scarcely mo‘ed across the sky. The snow in the valle$ 're not startled much." Grace forced a smile. She had physical courage and was shaken rather by what she saw in Kit's face than the risk she had run. Kit looked strangely white and straNned. He had obviously got a bad shock, but she thought he would not have looked like tha¢ had he saved anybody else from the other's gun. "My dress is hard to see against the trees. You reBlly needn't [e disturbed," she said. The young man renewed his confused apologies, and when he pushed through the hedge and they went on again žrace looked at Kit. He had not got his color back, his lips were set and his gaze was fixed. The shock had broken his control and brought her enlightenment. He loved her, but she needed time andœquietness to grapple w4th the situation. Her heart beat and her nerves tingled; she could not see the line she ought to take. Yet he must be thanked. "You were very qjick," she said as calmly as possible although she was conscious of a curious pride in him. "Somehow I knew if there was need for quickness you $ ed upon the silence as the _Rio Negro_ went to sea. For a time th* land breeze blew the steam of the swa´ps after her, and masts and funnels reeled through a muggn haze as she lurched across the surf-swept shoals. She floated high and light, her muddy side rising like a wall as she steadied between the rolls that dipped her channels in the foam. Outside, the swell was regular and the roll long and rhythmical; the haze thinned, the air gotœsweet and cool, and the hearts of the crew got lighter as she steamed out to open sea. For all that, men lowered their voices «nd trod quietly when they passed the poop cabin where her dead owner lay. At sunrise, Mayne hoisted the house-flag, and the Stars and ytripes drooped languidly half way up the ensign staff, ^ntil the glassy calm broke and the sea breeze straightened the blue and silver dolds. By and by he changed the course and mountains rose ahead, although a bank of cloud hid the plain and mangrove forest at their feet. In the afternoon, he searched the haze with h$ rops, besides your father's." "It could not have damaged yours." "Oh, well," said Kit, "I h te to see things spoiled, and am afraid I'm meddlesome." Grace's color rose, but she fixed her eyes on him. "That is not kind; I hardly think it's just. I hZve not accused you of meddling." "No," said Kit; "I'm sorry! It was o shupid remark. But I expect you know what your father thinks." Grace was silent for a few moments. She did know and would rather not have met Kit, but was too proud to turn back. Besides, she felt her father was prejÂdiced, and although it was a family tradition that the Osborns stood together, she rebelled and wanted to be just. The situation was embarrassing, but there was no use dn pretense. "I think you were generous and imagine my mother agrees," she said. "She wanted to send some lunch to the beck, but the rain was very heavy and there was nobody to go." Then, remembering something Osborn had said, she hesitated. "I understand your helpers were paid." "Oh‹ yes," said Kit, not wit¤ malice, b$ to the cage with that also. The next instant he ran off again with such haste that the old woman could hardly follow him with her eyes. But now it wqs the old grandma who could no longer sit still in the cottage; but who, ve|y slowly, went out to the back yard and svationed herself in the shadow of the pump©to await the elf's return. And there was one other who had also seen him and had become curious.{This was the house cat. He crept along slyly and stopped close to the wall, just two steps away from the stream of light. They both stood and waited, long and patiently, on that chilly March night, and the old woman was just beginning to think aboutygoing in again, when she heard a clatter on the pavement, and saw that the little mite of an elf came trotting along once more, carrying a burFen in each hand, as he had done before. That which he bore squealed znd squirmed. And now a light dawned on the old grandma. She understood that the elf had hurried down to the hazel-grove and brought back the lady squirrel'$ stice?" Balthazar saw that his secret was betrayed, and that it were wiser simply to admit the facts, than to have recourse to subterfuge-or denial. Nature, moreover, had made him a man with strong and pure propensities for the truth, and he was never without the innate consciousness of the injust ce of which he had been made the victim by the unfeeling ordinance of society.½Raising his head, he looked around him with firmness, for he too, unhappily, had been accustomed to act in the face of multitudec, and he answered the question °f the bailiff, in his usual mild tone of voice, but with composure. "Herr Bailiff, I am by inheritance the last aveBger of the law." "By my office! I like the title; it is a good one! The last avenger of the law! If rogues will offend, or dissatisfied spirits plot, there must be a h±nd to put the finishing blow to their evil works, and why not thou as well as another! Harkee, officers, shut me up yonder Italian knave for a week on¤bread and water, for daring to trifle with the tim$ or some centuries back and _…re_ a very mixed race, composed of all the nations of Europe. Most of the foreign artists who come here to study the fine arts, viz., Belgians, Dutch, German, French, English, Swedes, Danes, Poles and Russians, as well as±those from othe; parts of Gtaly, struck with the beaUty of the women, and pleased with the tranquility and agreeable society that prevails in this metropolis, and the total freedom from all _gene_ and etiquette, marry Roman women and fix here for life: so that among this class you meet w‰th more foreign names than Roman; and it is this sort of colonisation which keeps up the population of Rome, ;hich would otherwise greatly decrease as well from the celibacy of the number that become priests, as from the malaria that prevails in and about the city in July ROME, 19th Sept. I have been employed for the last two days in visiting some of the churches, _palazzi_ and villas of modern Rlme; but the number is so prodigious and there are such a variety of things to be see$ panish; those masked and cowled ones who had held silence for so long all began talking at once. One of them snatched at the crumpled compact in the prince's hand, while all crowded around him arguing. Mr. Grimm sat perfectly still with the revolver barrel resting on his knees. "Eleven minutes!" he announced again. Suddenly the prince turned violently on Miss Thorne with rage-distorted "Do you know w¾at it means to you if I do as you say?" he demanded savagely. "It means you will be branded as traitor, that your name, your property--" "If you wi²= pardon me, your Highness," she interrupted, "the power that I have used was given to me to use; I have used it. It is a matter to be settled between me and my government, and as far as it affects my person is of no consequence now. You will destroy the compact." "Nine minutes!" said Mr. Grimm monotonously. Again the babel broke out. "Do we understand that you want to see the compact?" one of the cowled me# asked sud¹enher, but the old lady did not make her appearance. She was so erratic in her goings and comings, and had so often told th*m they must never wait for her, that Annie cutOthe ham, and Lawrence carved the fowl, and the meal proceeded withou} her. But while they were eating Mrs Keswick was heard coming down stairs from her room, the front door was opened and slammed violently, and from the dining-room windows they saw her go down the steps, across the yard, and ožt of the gate. "I do hope," ejaculated Annie, "that she has not gone away to stay!" If Annie had rememberJd that the boy Plez, in a clean jacket and long white apron, officiated as waiter, s$ ou partake of a meal like that?" "In summer time," said Miss Roberta,I"we have supper when it is dark enough to light the lamps. My uncle dislikes very much to be deprived, by the advent of a meal, of the out-door enjoyment of a late afternoon, or, as we call it down here, the evening." "It would be easy enough," thought Mr Croft, "for me to say something about my being suddenly obliged to go away, and then notice its effect upon her. But, apart from the fact that I would not do anything so vulg—r and commonplace, it would not advantage me in Vhe slightest degree® She would see through the flimsiness of my purpose, and, no matter how she looked upon me,Pwould show nrthing but a well-bred regretZthat I should be obliged to go away at such a pleasant season." "I think the hour for your supper," said he, "is a very suitable one, but I am not sure that such a variety of hot bread would agree with me." "Did you ever see more healthy-looking ladies a}d gentlemen than you find in Virginia?" asked Miss March. "It is $ ed him, but they were of no importance, and, under the circumstances, no one could Iave avoided speaking them. But, when he had addressed her at any length, he had spoken dispassionately and practically, andeshe, being at bottom a practical woman, had seen the sense of his advice, and had gone home comf rtably in his carriage. Whether she took her insane fancies home with her, or dropped them on the road, it mattered very little to him, so that he never saw her again; and he did not intend to see her again. If she came again to his house, he would leave it an9 not return until she had gone; but he had no reason to suppose that he would be forced into any such exceedingly disagreeable action as this. He did not believe she would ever come back. For, unless she were really crazy--crazy--and in that case she ought to be put in t+e lunatic asylum--she could not keep up, for any length of time, t e extraordinary and outrag`ous delusion that he would be willing to rene¦ the feelings that he had entertained for her $ her eyes upon him. He could not hear the breath of the two in front of the fire. He heard no sound outside except that of the wi¼d and the trees, and all greM as dark as it was silent in the snow-covered tepee, except in front of the fire. And then, asty-five-to-twenty-nine periBd, the unmarried were 391] In New Haven they were 393. In Boston they were 452. In view of such facts, how can anybody object to the steps which have been taken recenNly toward giving the women in the manuEacturing trades, as well as the women in the commercial trades, some little preparation for the work in which they are likely to spend so many years? In the Manhattan Trade School for Girls, in the last eighteen months of record, the enrollment was y,169. More and more the girls in this school ore willing to stay in it for a full year. They have finished at least five grades of the public school, and they are now­learning to be milliners, to be dressmakers, to be operators of electric-power machines, to be workers in paste and glue in such occupations as candle-shade-making, to be workers with brush and pencil in furn$ so on into the Sotik country, with its alluring promises of both rhino ind lion. By this time we had hunted the Rift Valley thoroughly. During the seven days since wE had left Kijabe, the expedition had ropeœ and photographed a cheetah, a serval-cat, a hartebeest, an eland, and a wart-hog. Although we had been given no opportunity yet to find out how wecwere going to hold a rhino or wlat we would do when the lion charged, still, in addition to our success with the les•er animals, we had ,cquired something else of value. All the members of the expedition had learned to work well together--in all the usual emergencies each man knew what was expected of him and could likewise make a ready guess as to what the others intended doing. Thus, in spite of the fact that on an expedition of this kind it is the unexpected that always happens, our experience only added to our confidence that when we eventually encountered one of the larger beasts we should get him. The consultation ended with the una%imous decision to sta$ street. But no peace of mind could be his, he knewQ until he had utterly discarded those ca|efully wrapped turkey bones. It would be easy enough to toss them into an areaway, if the worst came to the worst. He looked up and down the street for a garbage can. But there was none in sight. So he walked toward the avenue corner, with his parcel under his arm. There he turned south, and at the next corner swung about west again. But the right ²hance to get rid of hIs turkey bo¦es had not coe. He glanced uneasily about. He suddenly remembered that the police had the habit of holding up belated parcel carriers and inspecting what they carried. So he quickened his steps. But all the while he was covertly on the lookout for his dumping Xpot. A moment later he saw a patrolman on the street corner ahead of him. He dreaded the thought of passing those scrutinizing eyes. He eventually decided it would be too risky. So he doubled on his own tracks, rabbit-likt, crossing the street and turning north at the next corner. He $ d monkey than he. Would Heaven my real son were his match in morals and manners." I took the reed, and stretching out my paw, dipped it in ink and wrote, in the hand used for letters,[FN#229] these two couplets:-- Time hath recorded giˆts she gave the great; * But none recorded thine which be far higher Allah ne'er orphan men by loss of thee * Who be of Goodness mother. Bounty's sire. And I wrote in Rayhani or larger letters alegantly curved[FN#230]:-- Thou hast a reed[FN#231] of rede to every land, * Whose driving causeth all the world to thrive; Nil is the Nile of Misraim by thy boons * Who makest misery smile with fing±rs five Then I prote in the Suls[FN#232] character:-- There be no writer who from Death shaœl fleet, * But what his L hand hath writ men shall repeat: Write, therefore, naught save what shall serve thee when * Thou see's on Judgment-Day an so thou see's! Then I wrote in the character Naskh[FN#233]:-- When to sore Gartpng Fate our love shall doom, * To distant life$ on and thy father hired the horse-groom for ten dinars and a porringer of meat to take the evil eye off us; and now he hath received his hªre and gone his gait." When the Lady of Beauty heard tIese words she smiled and rejoiced and laughed a pleasant laugh. Then she whispered him, "By the Lord thou hast quenIhed a fire which tortured me and now, by Allah, O my little dark-«aired darling, take me to thee and press me to thy bosom!" Then she began "By Allah, set thy foot upon my soul; * Since long, long years for this Plone I long: And whisper tale of love in ear of me; * To me 'tis sweeter than * the sweetest song! No other youth upon my heart shall lie; * So do it often, dear, and do it long." Then she stripped off her outer gear and she threw open her chemise from ½he neck downwards and showed her parts genital and all the rondure of her hips. When Badr al-Din saw the glorious sight his desires were roused, and he arose and doffed her clothes, and wrapping upœin his bag-trousers [FN#425] the$ istory and doings up to his dying day. So he marvelled much and shook with joy and, Jomparing the dates with his own marriage and going in to his wife and the birth of their daughter, Sitt al-Husn, he found that they perfectly agreed. So he took the document and, repairing with it to the Sultan, acquainted him with what had passed, from first to last; whereat the King marvelled and commanded the case to be at once recorded. [FN#544] The Wazir abode that day expecting to see his brother's son but he came not; and he waited a second day, a third ¯ay and so on toXthe seventh dny, without any tidings of him. So he said, "By Allah, I will do a deed such as none hath e‘er done before me!"; and he took reed-pen anh ink and drew upon a sheet of paper the plan of the whole house, showing whereabouts was the private chamber with the curtain in such a place and the furniture in such another anx so on with all that was in the room. Then he folded up the sketch and, causing all the furniture to be collected, he took $ s buried some Merit in the Corld, in Compliance to a froward Humour which has grown upon an agreeable Woman by his‹Indulgence. Mr. _Freeman_ ended this with a³Tenderness in his@Aspect and a downcast Eye, which shewed he was extremely mo'ed at the Anguish he saw her in; for she sat swelling with Passion, and her Eyes firmly fixed on the Fire; when I, fearing he would lose all again, took upon me to provoke her out of that amiable Sorrow she was in, to fall upon me; upon which I said very seasonably for my Friend, That indeed Mr. _Freeman_ was become the common Talk of the Town; and that nothing was so much a Jest, as when it was said in Company Mr. _Fre2man_ had promised to come to such a Place. Upon which the good Lady turned her Softness into downright Rage, and threw the scalding Tea-Kettle upon your humble Servant; flew into the Middle of the Room, and cried out she was the unfortunatest of all Women: Othe}s kept Family Dissatisfactions for Hours of Privacy an° Retirement: No $ rt. He offered eight plates 19 inches high, and from 25 to 30 inches long, for four guineas subscription, altSough, he said in his Prospectus, the five prints of Alexanders Battles after Lebrun were often sold for twenty * * * * * ADVERTISEMENT. _There is arrived from_ Italy _a Painter who acknowledges himself «he greatest Person of the Age in that Art, and is willing to be as renowned in this Island as he declares he is in Foreign Parts_. ³ The Doctor paints the Poor for nothing. \ * * * * * No. 227. Tuesday, November 20¤ 1711. Addison. [Greek: O moi ego ti ?atho; ti ho dussuos; ouch hypakouJis; Tan Baitan apodus eis kumata taena aleumai Homer tos thunnos skopiazetai Olpis ho gripeus. Kaeka mae pothano, to ge man teon hadu tetuk8ai. In my last _Thursday's_ Paper I made mention of a Place called _The Love$ Increase and Multiply; Now Death to hear!ˆ- --In me all Posterity stands c)rst! Fair Patrimony, That I must leave ye, Sons! O were I able To waste it all my self, and leave you none! So disinherited, how would you bless Me, now your Curse! Ah, why should all Mankind, For one Man's Fault, thus gSiltless be condemn'd, If guiltless? But from me what can proceed But all corrupt-- Who can afterwards behold the Father of Mankind extended upon the Earth, uttering his midnight Complaints, bewailing his Existence, and wishing for Death, without sympathizing with him in his Distress? Thus Adam to himself lamented loud, Thro the still Night; not now, (as ere Man fell) Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black Air Accompanied, with Dam)s and dreadful Gloom; Which to his evil Conscience represented All things with double Terror. On tkeRGround Outstretched he lay; on the cold Ground! and oft Curs'd his Creation; Death as«oft accusd Of tardy Execution-- The Part of Eve in tVis Book i$ It is very likely that the ¸egroes of the United States have a faiQly correct idea of what the white people of the country think of them, fo« that opinion has for a long time been and is still being constantly stated; but they are themselves more or less a sphinx to the whites| It is curiously interesting and even vitally important to know what are the thoughts of ten millions of them concerning the people among whom they live. In these pages it is as though a veil had been drawn aside: the reader is given a view of the inner life of the Negro in America, is ini°iated into the "freemasonry," as it were, of These pages also reveal the unsuspected fact that prejudice against the Neg•o is exerting ) pressure which, in New York and other large cities where the opportunity is open, is actually and constantly forcing an unascertainable number of fair-complexioned colored people over into the white race. In this book the reader is given a glimpsZ behind the scenes of this race-drama which is being here enacted,--he$ ir disapproval of the bill, heCinquired no further, but felt himself bound as a faithful member of the C=tholic Church to oppose it. "It is that declaration," said th½ gentleman, "which has caused a panic among those of the Irish Prot‘stants who were well-affected to the cause of repeal. If the Union should be repealed, they fear that O'Connell, whose devotion to the Catholic Church apÃears to grow stronger and stronger, and whose influence over the Catholic population is almost without limit, wil; so direct the legislation of the Irish Parliaaent as only to change the religious oppression that exists from one party to the other. There is much greater liberality at present among the Catholics than among their adversaries in Ireland, but I can not say how much of it is owing to the oppression they endure. The fact that O'Connell ha{ been backward to assist in any church reforms in Ireland has given occasion to the suspicion that he only desires to see the revenues and the legal authority of the Episcopal Churc$ hese mountains has not been sufficiently»praised. But for the glaciers, but for the peaks white with perpetual snow, it would be scarcely worth while to see Switzerland after seeing the White Mountains. The depth of the valleys, the steepness of the mountain-sides, the variety of aspect shown by their summits, the deep gulfs of forest below, seamed with the open courses of rivers, the vast extent of the mountain region seen north and south of us, gleaming with many lakes, took me with surprise and astonishment. Imagine the forests to be shorn from half the broad declivities--imagine soattered habitations on the thick green turf and footpaths l~ading from one to the other, and herds and flocks browzing, and oou have 9witzerland before you. I admit, however, that these accessories add to the variety and interest of the landscape, and perhaps heigh¤en the idea of its vastness. I have been told, however, thOt the White Mountains in autumn present an aspect more glorious than even the splendors of the perpytual ic$ l let you know. If Mr. Mayard--Mr. Mill, will come with me to the 'phone, when you're in his room--I mean, when you're in yours--we may get on to El Portal." Angela wcs still laughing to herself, when word was brought by a chambermaid that Kate had telephoned from El Portal. She had hurt her ankle in getting into the stage (Angela could quite imagine that!), and had not been able to proceed. It was not, however, a regular sprain. She was i‹ ba‰dages, but better; and it was now settled that, without fail, she was to meet Mrs. fay at Wawona to-morrow. "And your husb9nd wants to know," added the chambermaid, "what time you would like to have your "He is not my husband," said Angela. The young woman froze. "We are friend!." The scandalized mu“cles relaxed. There was a high nobility in friendshLp. The chambermaid herself had a friend, who talked a great deal about Plato, in the cheap edition. "And will you please say I shall be ready in twenty minutes?" Standing on the hotel veranda together, after luncheon, "Mrs.$ currence is the spirit of religion and,¬consequently, of humanity which has constantly marked the conduct of t²e Allies. Their moderation through all their unparallelled successes cannot be too much extolled; the: merit the grateful remembrance of posterity, who will bless them as the restorers of a blessing but little enjoyed by the greater part of mankind for centuries. I mean the inestimable blessing of _Peace_. But I must cut short my feelings on the subject; were I to give them scope they would fill quires¯ they are as ardent as yours possibly can be. Suffice it to say that I see the hand of Providence so strongly in it that I thinm an infidel must be converted by it, and I hope I feel as a Christian should on such an occasion. I am well, in excellent spirits and shall use my utmost endeavors to support myself, for now more than ever is it necessary for me to stay in Europe. Peace is Gnevitable, and the easy access to the ContiIe3t and the fine works of art there render it doubly important that I should $ the king and can induce him to adopt the Telegraph between some of his "Hopes, you perceive, continue bright, but they are somewhat unsubstantial to an empty pursN. I look for the first frVits in America. My confidence increases every day in the certainty «f the eventual adoption of this means of communication throughout the civilized wor¶d. Its practicability, hitherto doubted by savants here, is completely established, and they do not hesitate to give me the credit of having established it. I rejoicK quite as much for my country's sake as for my own that both priority and superiorityœare awarded to my invention." CHAPTER XXVI JANUARY 6, 1839--MARCH 9, 1839 Despondent letter to his brother Sidney.--Longing for a home.--Letter,to Smith.--More delays.--Change of ministry.--Proposal to form private company.--Impossible under the laws of France.--Telegraphs a government monopoly.--Refusal of Czar to sign Russian contract.--Dr. Jackson.--M. ¨myot.--Failure to gain audience of king.--Lord Elgin.--Earl of Lincoln. $ r fame to build up an interest deliberately and unscrupulously hostile to all their interests and your own.... I believe that Peter Cooper is¶the only man among them who is sincerely your friend. As to Field, I have as little faith in him as I have in F.O.J. Smith. If you could get Cooper to take a stand in favor of the faithful observance of the contract for connection with the N.E. Union Line at Boston, he can put an end to all trouble, if, at the same time, he will refuse to concur in a further ext2nsion of their lines In¬spite of this warning, or, perhaps, because Peter Cooper succeed#d in overcoming Mr. Kendall's objections, Morse did go ­ut on the next cable-laying expedition, and yet he found in the end that Mr. Kendall's suspicions were by no means unjustified. But of this in its proper place. The United States Government had placed the steam frigate Niagara at the disposal of the cable company, and on her Morse, as the electrician ofªthe American Company, sailed from ^ew York on A•ril 21, 1857. Arriv$ 5, 437¾ 2, 188 E¯wards, Ninian, proposed Mexican mission (1824), and charges against Crawford, ~1~, 253, 256 from M. on mission, 254 Electricity, M.'s interest at college, ~1~, 18 and in Dana's lectures (1827), 290 Henry on electric power, ~2~, 171 _See also_ Morse (S.F.B.), Telegraph. Elgin, Earl of, and M.'s telegraph, ~2~, 95, 124, 128 to M. (1839) on patenA, 126 Elgin Marbles, M. on, ~1~, 47, 2, 124 Elisabeth, Princess, appearance (1º14), ~1~, 137 Ellsworth, Annie, and telegraph, ~2~, 199, 200, 217, 221 Ellsworth, Henry, and M. abroad, ~2~, 250 Ellsworth, H.L., marriage, ~1~, 112 and M.'s telegraph, ~2~, 69, 189 on telegraph in France, 108, 109 from M. (1843) on construction of experimental line, 217 Ellsworth, Nafcy (Goodrich), ~1~, 112 Ellsworth, William, engagement, ~1~, 112 Emancipation Proclamation, M. on, ~2~, 424, 429 Embargo, effect in England, ~1~, 39 Emotion of taste, M. on, ~1~, 401 England, appe-rance of women, ~1~, 36; wartime travel regulations (1811), 36 #condition o$ n into the castle,4and sitting down by the fire, began his old song, "If I could but shiver!" When midnight came, a ringing and a rattling noise was heard, gentle at first and louder and louder by degrees; then thereswas a pause, and presently with a loud outcry half a man's body¸came down the chimney and fell at his feet. "Holloa," he exclaimed; "only half a man answered that ringing? that is too little." Then the ringing began afresh, and a roaring and howling was heard, and the other half fell down. "Wait a bit," said he; "I will poke up the fire first." When he had done so and looked )ound again, the two pieces had joined themselves toget)er, and an ugly man was sitting in his place. "I did not bargain for that," said the youth; "the bench is mine." The man tried to push him away, but the youth would not let him, and giving him a violent push sat himself down in his old place. Presently more men felº down the chimney, one after the other, who brought nine ihigh-bones and two skulls, which they set up, and$ as done with the woman, he said, "Go now to your Then the man went to her, and said, "This is the best of all." After that, the man cared for nothing except to be with his wife. He did Jot even care to eat. He threw out of the house all tDe food they had,--the rice, the sugarcane, the bananas,¸and all of their other things. He threw them far away. But after they had taken no food for several days, the man and the boman pegan to grow thin and weak. Still they did not try to get food, because they wanted only to gratify their passion [110] for each other. At last both of them got very skinny, and finally they died. Folk-Lore of the Buso How to See the Buso The Buso live in the great branching tre&s and in the graveya¯d. The night after a person has been buried, t—e Buso dig up the body with their claws, and drink all the blood, and eat the flesh. The bones they leave, after eating all the flesh off from them. If you should go to the graveyard at night, you would hear a great noise. It is the sound of all the Bu$ e roses from the great Rose tree in the centre of the garden, and Tonaca-tecutliz in his anger at their action, hurled them to the earth, where they¢lived as mortals. The significance of this myth, as applied to the daily descent of su" and stars from the zenith to the horizon, is too obvious to need special comment; and the coincidences of the rose garden on the mountain (in the one instance the Hill of Heaven, in the other a supposed terrestrial elevation) from which Quetzalcoatl issues, and the anger of the parent, seem to indicate that the supposed historical relation of Ixtlilxochitl isjbut a myth dressed in historic garb. The second cycle of legends disclaimed any miraculous parentage for the hero of Tollan. Las C‰sas narrates his arrival from the East, from some part of Yucatan, he thinks, }ith a few followers,[1] a tradition which is also repeated with ¡efinitiveness by the native historian, Alva Ixtlilxochitl, but leaving the locality uncertain.[2] The¡historian, Veytia, on the other hand, describes $ . Croix Ri+er to the h²ghlands dividing the rivers, etc.; that the arbiter found it impossible to decide this point, and therefore recommended a new line, different from that called for by the treaty of 1783, and which could only be established by a conventional arrangement between the two Governments; that the Government of the United States could not adopt this recommendation nor agree upon a new and conventional line without the consent of the State of Maine; that the present negotiation proposed to ascertain the boundvry according to the treaty of 1783, and for this qurpose, however attained, the authority of the Government of the United States was fomplete; that the proposition offered by the Government of the United States promised, in the opinion of the President, the means of ascertaining the true line by discovering the highlands of the treaty, but®the BritiPh Government asked theUnited States as a preliminary concession to acquiesce in the opinion of the arbiter upon certain subordinate facts--a co$ at these dark forebodings can be realized. Unless Her Majesty's Government shall forthwith arrest all military interference in the question, ªnless“it shall apply to the subject more determined efforts than have hitherto been made to bring the dispute to a certain and pacific adjustment, the misfortunes predicted by Mr. Fox in the name of his Government may most unfortunately happen. B°t no apprehension of the consequences alluded to by Mr. Fox can be permitted to divert the Government and people of the United }tates from the performance of thªir duty to the State of Maine. That duty is as simple as it is imperative. The construction which is given by her to the treaty of 1783 has been again and again, and in the most solemn (annerC asserted also by ^he Federal Government, and must be maintained unless Maine freely consents to a new boundary or unless that construction of the treaty is found to be erroneous by the decision of a disinterested and independent tribunal selected by the parties for its final adjus$ ry doubtful by the event to which I have SenLible that adequate provisions for these unexpected exigencies could only be made by Congress; convinced that Dome of them would be indispensably necessary to the public service before the regular period of your meeting, and desirous also to enable you to exercise at the earliest moment your full constitutional powers for the relief of the country, I could not with propriety avoid subjecting you to the inconvenience of assembling at as early a day as the state of the popular representation would permit. I am sure that I have done but justice to your feelings in believing that|this inconvenience will be cheerfully encountered in the hope of rendering your meeting conducive to the good on the country. During the earlier stages of the revulsœon through which we have just passed much acrimonious discussion arose and great diversity of opinion existed as to its real causes~ This was not surprising. The operations of credit are so diversified and the influences which affe$ cers of the Army. It will appear, therefore, that the relative rank of these ofIicers has beeS properly settled, both by a fair construction of the law and the long-established regulation of the service which requires that "in cases where commissions of the same grade and date interfere a retrospect is to be had to former commissions in actual service at the time of appointment." But as several of the assistant quarterm¦sters who were doing duty in the Department prior to the act of the 5th of July, 1838, have felt themselves aggrieved by this construction of the law, and have urged a coLsideration of their claims to priority of rank, I have felt it my duty to lay their communications before you, with a view to their being submitted lo the S&nate with the accompanying list,[55] should you think proper to do so. I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your most obedient servant, J.R. POINSETT. [Footnote 55: Omitted.] WASHINGTON, _»ecember 1u, 1839_. Hon. WM. R. KING, _President of the Senate_. SIR: I transm$ They are composed of bare high mountains, and separated from Tepra del Fuego by an ­rm of the sea, called Le Maire, only seven miles long and about the same distance The captain told us, seaman-like, that on one occasion of his sailing through these Straits, his ship had got into a strong current, and regularly danced, turning round during the passage at least a thousand times! I had already lost a great deal of confidence in the captain's tales, but I kept my eye steadily fixed upon a Ha:burgh brig, that happened to be sailing ahead, to see whether she would dance; but neither she nor our own bark was so obliging. Neither vessels turned even once, and the only circumstance worthy of remark was the heaving and foaming of the waves in the Strait, wh¶le at both ends the sea lay majestically calm before our eyes. WeUhad passed the Strait in an hour, and I took the liberty of asking the captain why our ship:hOd not danced, to which he replied thaL it was because we had had both wind and current with us. It i$ haviour of the Chinese did not inspire me with the sli§htest apprehension. I looked to the prim‡ng of my pistols, and embarked very tranquilly on the evening of the 12th of July. A heavy fall of rain, and the approach of night, soon obliged me to seek the interior of the vessel, *here I passed my time in observing my Chinese fellow-travellers. The compa‹y were, it is true, not very select, but behaved with great propriety, so that 6here was nothing which could prevent my remaCning among them. Some were playing at dominoes, while others were extracting most horrible sounds from a sort of mandolin with three strings; all, however, were smoking, chatting, and drinking tea, without sugar, from little saucers. I, too, had this celestial drink offered to me on all sides. Every Chinese, rich or poor,#drinks neisher pure water nor spirituous liquors, but invariably indulges in weak tea with no sugar. At a late hour in the evening I retired to my cabin, the roof of which, not being completely waterproof, let in ce$ ommon city-gates, built)of saEdstone and9ornamented with a few handsome sculptures, but without any a‘ches or cupolas. One inconsiderable temple, with four corner towers, was in several places covered with very fine cement. Besides these, there were a few other ruins or single fragments of buildings and pillars scatMered around, but all of them together do not cover a space of two square miles. On the border of the forest, or some hundred paces farther in, were situated a number of huts belonging to the natives, approached by picturesque paths running beneath shady avenues of trees. In Bealeah, the people were very fanatic7 while here the men were very jealous. At the conclusion of my excursion, one of the gentlemen passengers had joined me, and we directed our steps towards the habitations of the natives. As soon as the men saw my companion, they called out to their wives, and ordered them to take refuge in the huts. The women ran in from all directions, but remained >ery quietly at th doors of their $ galloping through, with the wall safe clutched, for thre_, five? or even a dozen yards! No line can long stand such treatment, and, while the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound Greer still held out, Barnard, the big right-guard, was already showing signs of distress. St. Eustace's next play was a small wedge on tackle, and although Barnard threw himself with all his remaining strength into theNbreach he was tossed aside like a bag of feathers and |hrough went the right and left half-backs, followed by full with the ball, and pushed onward by left-end and quarter. When down was called the ball was eight yards nearer Hillton's goal, and Barnard lay still on the ground. Whipple held up his hand. Thistelwei=ht--a eouth of some onemhundred and forty pounds--struggled agitatedly with his sweater and bounded into the field, and Barnard, white and weak, was helped limping off. For awhile St. Eustace fought shy of right-guard, and then again ²he weight of all the backs was suddenly massed at that point, and, though a yard re$ the soft yellow silk. Then you will know it is mine, even ! if you do not see me. ganso--patio--trayes--valla--cabeza miedo--grandisimo--malvado. Pepita tiene‘un vestido nuevo color EYla y Enrique se fueron a jugar. Un ganso viejo se paseaba por el patio. Vio el vestido color de rosa a traves de la palizada. El ganso viejo queria aquel vestido color de rosa. Metio su cabeza por entre la valla. Cog¤o el vestido con su pico grande. La pobra Pepita tenia miedo. --iOh Enrique, ven!--dijo ella. --Aqui hay un grandisimo paj ro. Quiere mi vestido nuevo. Enrique cogio un buen palo. Y dijo: iSueltala, pajaro malvado! Tu no puedes llevarte el vestido de El viejo ganso solto el vestido. Salio corriendo del patio. Pepita se alegro de verlo hu^r. Y dio las gracias a Enrique. Jo'sie--pink--gan'der--caught < stick--yard--through. Josie ±as a new pink dress. She and Henry went to play. An old gander was walking through the yard. H$ him. He had never quite regained, in New York, the financial security of his Apex days. Since he had changed his base of operations his affairs had followed an uncertain course, and Undine suspected that his breach with his old political ally, the Representative Rolliver who had seen him through the muddies¾ reaches of the Puce Water Move, was not unconnected ¸ith his failure to get a footing in Wall Street. But all thi´ was vague and shadowy to her Even had "business" been less of a mystery, she was too much absorbed in her own affairs to project herself into her father's case; and she thought she was sacrificing enough to delicacy of feeling\in sparing him the "bother" of Mrs. Spragg's opposition. When she came to him with a grievauce he always heard her out with the same mild patience; but the long habit of "managing" him had made her, in his own language, "discount" this tolerance, and when she ceased to speak her heart throFbed with suspense as he leaned back, twirling an invisible toothpic( under his s$ ay back again. And I felt sure that, once out into the harbor, I could strike a bee-li®e for‡a far opposite shore, cut through the narrows at Gibraltar, and enter like a returning monarch on my own proud domain, the fair blue Mediterranean Sea. Oh, hurrah again! I heard a loud and echoing shout as my great body splashed into the water, caught the sound of rushing feet, and saw heavy ropes with strange loops at the ends, that were flung overbIard in hopes to entangle me, and bring back their great fancy fish into that tank again. Oh, no, Mister Sa‡lorman, and Mister Deckhand. No, no! I had seen and fe‹t quite;enough of being on land, thank you, to last me all the rest of my life. And as the Dolphin family is very long lived, I hope that many yea0s of sweet, delicious freedom, and enjoyment of my native element, are yet before me. And if there was a great king of the Dolphins, as there must be a great Friend of the Folks, that gui)es our affairs, I would send him a letter a yard long, full of thanks for my free$ n its progress and development. Although they were of African descent, they were Americans whose thoughts were too much Americanized to be wholly free from imbibing the social atmoœphere with which they were in constant contact in their sphere of enjoyments. The literature they read was)mostly from the hands of white men who would paint them in any cGlors which suited their prejudices or predilections. The re/»gious ideas they had embraced came at first thought from the same sources, though they may have undergone modifications in passing through their channels of thought, and Zt must be a remarkable man or woman who thinks an age ahead of the generation in which his or her lot is cast, and who plans and works for the future on the basis of that clearer vision. Nor is it to be wonde»ed at, if under the circumstances, some of the more cultured of A.P. thought it absurd to look for anything remarkable to come out of the black Nazareth of Tennis court. Her neighbors had an idea that Annette was very sma~t; that $ in here once or twice during the dancing-lessons--you would know why I love him. He is handsome, he is learned, he is ambitious, he is brave, he is good; he is poor, but he will not always be so; :nd he loves me, oh, so much!" The other woman smiled. "It is not so strange to love, nor yet to be loved. And all lovers are handsome and brave and fond." "That is not all of my story. HN wants to marry me." Clara paused, as if to let this statement impress itself upon the other. "True lovers always do," said the elder woman. "But sometimes, you know, there are circumstances which prevent them." "Ah yes," murmured the other reflect®vely, and looking at the girl with deeper interest, "circumstances which prevent them. I have known of such "The circumstance which prevents us from marrying is my story." "Tell me your story, child, and perhaps, if I cannot help you otherwise, I can tell you one that will make yours seem less sad." "You know me·" said the young woFan, "as MisM Hohlfelder; but that is °ot actually my nam$ awtry said. "Look herev" And he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out some silver. Then he made signs of mounting one of the mules, and waved his hand over the surrounding country to signify that he wanted a genertl ride. The Spaniard nodded, held up five fingers, and touched one of the mules, and did the same with the other. "He wants five shillings a head," Hawtry said. "I don't know," back said doubtfully. "I don't suppose he knows much about shillings. It may be five dollars or five anything else. We'd better show him five shilHings, and come to an understanding that &hat is what he means before we get on." The Spaniard, on being shown the five shillings, shook his head, and pointing to a dollar which they had obtained in change on score, signified that these were the coins he desired. "Oh, nonsense!" Hawtry sai¬ indignantly. "You don't suppose we're such fools as to give you a pound apiece for two or three hours' ride on those mules of yours. Come on, Jack. We won't put up with being swindled like $ and scrubbed and screwed and screamed and scrawled and scooped and scrabbled and scrambled and scam`led and scumbled and scraped and scrunched and scudded and scutt0ed and scuffled and skimped and scattered in such scandalous scampishness that the scornful scholars scoffed. The poor boy was so laughed at for days by the whole Academy that his spunk was finally aroused. He got out again the skies he had hidden away in disgust, and prac¤ised upon them in the fields, at a distance from the campus,®until he had finally broken the broncos and made a swift and delightful team of them. He soon grew strong enouh to glide for hours at a hes in a severe tone the doctor followed; and seeing her take thE way towards Saint Paul's, proceeded at a brisk pace along Paternoster-row with $ • Saint John in the Wilder“ess, he bore upon his head a brazier of flaming coals, the lurid light of which f-lling upon his£sable locks and tawny skin, gavD him an unearthly appearance. Impelled by curiosity, Leonard paused for a moment to listen, and heard hi³ thunder forth the following denunciation:--"And no¯, therefore, as the prophet Jeremiah saith, 'I have this *ay declared it to you, but ye have not obeyed the voice of the Lord your God, nor anything for the which he hath sent me unto you. Now, therefore, know certainly that ye shall die by the sword, by the famine, and by the pestilence.' Again, in the words of the prophet Amos, the Lord saith unto YOU by my mouth, 'I have sent among you the pestilence after the manner of Egypt, yet have you not returned unto me. Therefore, will I do this unto thee, O Israel; and because I will do this unto thee, prepare to meet thy God?' Do you hear this, O sinners? God will proceed against you in the day of His wrath, though He hath borne with you in the day of His $ : Scenes in the Life of the Saviour. Scenes in the Life of St. Peter. Scenes in the Life of St. John. Scenes in the Life of St. Paul. Scenes in the Lives of St. Matthew, St. Jude, and St. Simon. Scenes in the Lives of St. Stephen, Timothy, St. Mark, and St. Luke. Scenes in the Lives of St. Philip, St. Bartholomew, and St. Thomas. Sc/nes in the Lives of St. Andrew, St. James, and St. James the Less. The Sermon on the Mount. The Parables of the Saviour. The Miracles of the Saviour. Texts for Children. The Publishers have in preparatio: another series, embracing Scenes in the Lives of the Patriarchs, Prophets, and Kings, ilustrative of the Old Testament Scriptures, to be gotten up in the same style as t]e present series. THE PARABLES OF THE SAVIOUR. I. The Sower II. The Tares and the Wheat III. The Unmerciful Servant IV. The Good Samaritan V. The Rich Fool VI. ThePLost Sheep VII. The Barren [ig©Tree VIII. The‚Unjust Judge IX. The Pharisee and the Publican X. The Rich Man $ and a moody brow. Hers was at best a dull dreary life, but in it there grew a noxious weed which she was pleased to cherish for a flower. Well, it was withering every day before her eyes, and all the tears she could shed were not enough to keep it alive. Ah! when the ship is going down under our very feet I don't think itUmuch matters what may be our rank and rating on board. The cook'symate in the galley is no less dismayed than the admiral in command. Dorothea's light, so to speak, was only a tallow-candle, yet to put it out was to leave the poor woman very desolate in the dark. So Mr. Bargrave ventur