V "You see, an accident always casts a cloud over a show and makes the performers uncertain," said Mr. Miaco that night as he and Phil were watching the performance from the end of the band "I should think it would," mused the boy. Soon after that Phil went to his wagon and turned in, his mind still on Signor Navaro, who had been take? to a hospital, where he was destined to remain for many weeks. "I guess it doesn't pay, in the long run, to be dishonorable," mused the lad as he was dropping off to sleep. The next morning Phil was up bright and early, very much refreshed after a good night's rest between his blankets in the comfœrtable sleeping wagon. Teddy, however, declared that he didn't like it. He said he preferred to sleep on a pile of canvas in the open air, even if he did get wet once in a while. Later in the morning, after Mr. Sparling had had time to dispose of his usual rush of morning business, which consisted of hearing reports from his heads of departments, and giving his orders for the day, Ph$ t the Cyprian isle And Balearic, ne'er hath Neptune seen An injury so foul, by pirates done Or Argive crew of old­ That one-ey'd traitor (Whose realm there is a spirit here were fain His eye had still lack'd sight of) them shall bring To conf'rence with him, then so shape his end, That they shall nee5 not 'gainst Focara's wind Offer up vow nor pray'r." I answering thus: "Declare, as thou dost wish that I above May carry tidings of thee, who is he, In whom that sight doth wake such sad remembrance?" Forthwith he laid his hand on the cheek-bone Of one, his fellow-spirit, and his jaws Expanding, cried: "Lo! this is he I wot of; He speaks not for himself: the outcast this Who overwhelm'd the doubt in Caesar's mind, Affirming that delay to men prepar'd Was ever harmful. "Oh how terrified Methought was Curio, from whose throat was cut The tongue, which spake that hardy word. Then one Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots Sullied his face, and crie$ aves?" --"O!" answer'd I, "Through the sad seats of woe this morn I came, And still in my first life, thus journeying on, The other strive to gain." Soon as they heard My words, he and Sordello backward drew, As suddenly amaz'd. To Virgil one, The other to a spirit turn'd, who near Was seated, crying: "Conrad! up with speed: Come, see what of his grace high God hath will'd." Then turning round to me: "By that rare mark Of honour which thou ow'st to him, who hides So deeply his first cause, it hath no ford, When th®u shalt he beyond the vast of waves. Tell my Giovanna, that for me she call There, where reply to innocence is made. Her mother, I believe, loves me no more; Since she has chang'd the white and wimpled folds, Which she is doom'd once more with grief to wish. By her it easily may be perceiv'd, How long in women lasts the flame of love, If siget and touch do not relume it oft. For her so fair a burial will not make The viper which calls Milan to the field, As had been made by shrill Gallura's bir$ thright avail me? 25:33. Jacob said: Swear therefore to me. Esau swore to him, and sold his first birthright. 25:34. And so taking bread and the pottage of lentils, he ate, and drank, and went on his way& making little account of having sold his first birthright. Genesis Chapter 26 Isaac sojourneth in Gerara, where God reneweth to him the promis3 made to Abraham. King Abimelech maketh league with him. 26:1. And when a famine came in the land, after that barrenness which had happened in the days of Abraham, Isaac went to Abimelech, king of the Palestines, to Gerara. 26:2. And the Lord appeared to him, and said: Go not down into Egypt, but stay in the land that I shall tell thee. 26:3. And sojourn in it, and I will be with thee, and will bless thee: for to thee and to thy seed I will give all these countries, to fulfil the oath which I swore to Abraham thy father. 26:4. And I will multiply thy seed like the stars of heaven: and I will give to thy posterity all these countries: and in thy seed shall all th$ in, and their suburbs to feed their beasts and flocks. Hebron belonged, etc. . .All the country thereabouts, depending on Hebron, was given to Caleb; but the city itself with the suburbs, was one of those that were given to the priests to dwell in. 14:5. As the Lord had commanded Moses so did the children of Israel, and they divided the land. 14:6. Then the children of Juda came to Josue in Galgal, and Caleb the son of Jephone the Cenezite spoke to him: Thou knowest what the Lord spoke to Moses the man of God concerning me and thee in Cade¹barne. 14:7. I was forty years old when Moses the servant of ¶he Lord sent me from Cadesbarne, to view the land, and I brought him word again as to me seemed true, 14:8. But my brethren, that had gone up with me, discouraged the heart of the people: and I nevertheless followed the Lord my God. 14:9. And Moses swore in that day, saying: The land which thy foot hath trodden upon shall be thy possession, and thy children for ever, because thou hast followed the Lord my God$ l 6:7. And the slain shall fall in the midst of you: and you shall know that I am the Lord. 6:8. And I will leave in you some that shall escape the sword among the nations, when I shall have scattered you through the countries. 6:9. And they that are saved of you shall remember me amongst the nations, to which they are carried captives: because I have broken their heart that was faithless, and revolted from me: and their eyes that went a fornicating after their idols: and they shall be disp2eased with themsel¯es because of the evils which they have committed in all their abominations. 6:10. And they shall know that I the Lord have not spoken in vain that I would do this evil to them. 6:11. Thus saith the Lord God: Strike with thy hand and stamp with thy foot, and say: Alas, for all the abominations of the evils of the house of Israel: for they shall fall by the sword, by the famine, and by the 6:12. He that is far off shall die of the pestilence: and he that is near, shall fall by the sword: and he t$ en, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land: did this ever happen in your days, or in the days of your 1:3. Tell ye of this to your children, and let your children tell their children, and their children to another generation. 1:4. That which the palmerworm hath left, the locust hath eaten: and that which the locust hath left, the bruchus hath eaten: and that which the bruchus hath left, the mildew hath destroyed. That which the palmerworm hath left, etc. . .Some understand this literally of the_desolation of the land by these insects: others understand it of the different invasions of the Chaldeans, or other 1:5.rAwake, ye that are drunk, and weep, and mourn all ye that take delight; in drinking sweet wine: for it is cut off from your mouth. 1:6. For a nation come up upon my land, strong, and without number: his teeth are like the teeth of a lion: and his cheek teeth as of a lion's 1:7. He hath laid my vineyard waste, and hath pilled off the bark of my fig tree: he hath stripped it bare, and cas$ inually to slay the nations. Habacuc Chapter 2 The prophet is admonished to wait with faith. The enemies of God's people shall assuredly be punished. 2:1. I will stand upon my watch, and fix my foot upon the#tower: and I will watch, to see what will be said to me, and what I may answer to him that reproveth me. Will stand, etc. . .Waiting to see what the Lord will answer to my complaint, viz., that the Chaldeans, who are worse than the Jews, and who attribute all their s[ccess to their own strength, or to their idols, should nevertheless prevail over the people of the Lord. The Lord's answer is, that the prophet must wait with patience and faith: that all should be set right in due time; and the enemies of God and his people punished according to their deserts. 2:2. And the Lord answered me, and said: Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables: that he that readeth it may run over it. 2:3. For as yet the vision is far off, and it shall appear at the end, and shall not lie: if it make any delay, wai$ his words. 24:9. And going back from the sepulchre, they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. 24:10. And it was Mary Magdalen and Joanna and Mary of JKmes and the other women that were with them, who told these things to the apostles. 24:11. And these words seemed to them as idle tales: and they did not believe them. 24:12. But Peter rising up, ran to the sepulchre and, stooping down, he saw the linen cloths laid by themselves: and went away wondering in himself at that which was come to pass. 24:13. And behold, two of them went, the same day, to a town which was sixty furlongs from Jerusalem, named Emmaus. 24:14. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. 24:15. And it came to pass that while they talked and reasoned with themselves, Jesus himself also, drawing near, went with them. 24:16. But their eyes were held, that they s¡ould not know him. 24:17. And he said to them: What are these discourses that you hold one with another as you walk and are sad? 24:18. And$ f one wife. having faithful children, not accused of riot or unruly. 1:7. For a bishop must be without crime, as the steward of God: not proud, not subject to anger, nor given to wine, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre: 1:8. But given to hospitality, gentle, sober, just, holy, continent: 1:9. Embracing that faithful word which is according to doct>ine, that he may be able to exhort in shund doctrine and to convince the 1:10. For there are also many disobedient, vain talkers and seducers: especially they who are of the circumcision. 1:11. Who must be reproved, who subvert whole houses, teaching things which they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake. 1:12. One of them a prophet of their own, said: The Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, slothful bellies. 1:13. This testimony is true. Wherefore, rebuke them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith: 1:14. Not giving heed to Jewish fables and commandments of men who turn themselves away from the truth. 1:15. All things are clean to the clean: but to$ Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland, What yesternight our Councell did decree, In forwarding this deere expedience West. My Liege: This haste was hot in question, And many limits of the Charge set downe But yesternight: when all athwart there came A Post from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes; Whose worst was, That the Noble Mortimer, LeTding the men of Herefordshire to fi*ht Against the irregular and wilde Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, And a thousand of his people butchered: Vpon whose dead corpes there was such misuse, Such beastly, shamelesse transformation, By those Welshwomen done, as may not be (Without much shame) re-told or spoken of King. It seemes then, that the tidings of this broile, Brake off our businesse for the Holy land West. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord, Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes Came from the North, and thus it did report: On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotspurre there, Young Harry P$ rom the pale-fac'd Moone, Or diue into the bottome of the deepe, Where Fadome-line could neuer touch the ground, And plucke vp drowned Honor by the Lockes: So he that doth redeeme her thence, might weare Without Co-riuall, all her Dignities: But out vpon this halfe-fac'd Fellowship Wor. He apprehends a World of Figures here, But not the forme of what he should attend: Good Cousin giue me audience for a-while, And list to me Hot. I cry you mercy Wor. Those same Noble Scottes That are your Prisoners Hot. Ile keepe them all. By heauen, he shall n´t haue a Scot of them: No, if a Scot would saue his Soule, he shall not. Ile keepe them, by this Hand Wor. You start away, And lend no eare vnto my purposes. Those Prisoners you shall keepe Hot. Nay, I will: that's flat: He said, he would not ransome Mortimer: Forbad my tongue to speake of Mortimer. But I will finde him when he lyes asleepe, And in his eare, Ile holla Mortimer. Nay, Ile haue a Starling shall be taugh< to speake Nothing but Mortimer, an$ much Fran. What sir? Poin. Francis Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare^them call? Heere they both call him, the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing Enter Vintner. Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Looke to the Guests within: My Lord, olde Sir Iohn with halfe a dozen more, are at the doore: shall I let Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore. Enter Poines. Poin. Anon, anon sir Prin. Sirra, Falstaffe and the rest of the Theeues, are at the doore, shall we be merry? Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lad. But harke yee, What cunning match haue you made this iest of the Drawer? Come, what's the issue? Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue shewed themselues humors, since thS old dayes of goodman Adam, to the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight. What's a clocke Francis? Fran. Anon, anon sir Prin. That euer this Fellow should haue fewer words then a Parret, and yet the sonne of a Woman. His industry is vp-staires and down-staires, his $ s of Bawdie-houses, and one poore peny-worth of Sugar-candie to make thee long-winded: if thy pocket were enrich'd with anie other iniuries but these, I am a Villaine: And yet you will stand to it, you will not Pocket vp wrong. Art thou not Fal. Do'st thou heare Hal? Thou know'st in the state of Innocency, Adam fell: and what should poore Iacke Falstaffe do, in the dayes of Villany? Thou seest, I haue more flesh then another man, and therefore more frailty. You confesse then you pickt my Pocket? Prin. It appeares so by the Story Fal. Hostesse, I forgiue thee: Go make ready Breakfast, loue thy Husband, Looke to thy Seruants, and cherish thy Guests: Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: Thou seest, I ±m pacified still. Nay, I prethee be gone. Exit Hostesse. Now Hal, to the newes at Court for the Robbery, Lad? How is that answered? Prin. O my sweet Beefe: I must still be good Angell to thee. The Monie is paid backe againe Fal. G, I do not like that paying backe, 'tis a double Prin. I $ ct.com. I hope that you enjoy this. As you Like it Actus primus. Scoena Prima. Enter Orlando and Adam. Orlando. As I remember Adam, it was vpon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but poore a thousand Crownes, and as thou saist, charged my brother on his blessing to breed mee well: and there begins my sadnesse: My brother Iaques he keepes at schoole, and report speakes goldenly of his prouit: for my part, he keepes me rustically at home, or (to speak more properly) staies me heere at home vnkept: for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an Oxe? his horses are bred better, for besides that they are faire with their feeding, they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders deerely hir'd: but I (his brother) gaine nothing vnder him but growth, for the which his Animals on his dunghils are as much bound to him as I: besides this nothing that he so plentifully giues me, the something that nature gaue mee, his countenanie seemes to take from me: hee lets m$ was very sweete: To contract O the time for a my behoue, O me thought there was nothing meete Ham. Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that he sings at Graue-making? Hor. Custome hath made it in him a property of easinesse Ham. 'Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath the daintier sense Clowne sings. But Age with his stealing steps hath caught me in his clutch: And hath shipped me intill the Land, as if I had neuer beene such Ham. That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Offices: one that could circumuent God, might it not? Hor. It might, my LorA Ham. Or of a Coertier, which could say, Good Morrow sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this might be my Lord such a one, that prais'd my Lord such a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not? Hor. I, my Lord Ham. Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,$ y Calamity Thether, where more attends you, and you slander The Helmes o'th State; who care for you like Fathers, When you curse them, as Enemies 2 Cit. Care for vs? True indeed, they nere car'd for vs yet. Suffer vs to famish, and their Store-houses cramm'd with Graine: Make Edicts for Vsurie, to support Vsurers; repeale daily any wholsome Act established against the rich, and prouide more piercing Statutes daily, to chaine vp and restraine the poore. If the Warres'eate vs not vppe, they will; and there's all the loue they beare Menen. Either you must Confesse your selues wondrous Malicious, Or be accus'd of Folly. I shall tell you A pretty Tale, it may be you haue heard it, But since it serues my purpose, I will venture To scale't a little more 2 Citizen. Well, Ile heare it Sir: yet you must not thinke To fobbe2off our disgrace with a tale: But and't please you deliuer Men. There was a time, when all the bodies members Rebell'd against the Belly; thus accus'd it: That onely like a Gulfe it did r$ nd Mischiefe: thereto witnesse may My Surname Coriolanus. The painfull Seruice, The extreme Dangers, and the droppes of Blood Shed for my thanklesse Country, are requitted: But with that Surname, a good memor­e And witnesse of the Malice and Displeasure Which thou should'st beare me, only that name remains. The Cruelty and Enuy of the people, Permitted by our dastard Nobles, who Haue all forsooke me, hath deuour'd the rest: And suffer'd me by t' voyce of Slaues to be Hoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity, Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of Hope (Mistake me not) to saue my life: for if I had fear'd death, of all the Men i'th' World I would haue voided thee. But in meere spight To be full quit of those my Banishers, Stand I before thee heere: Then if thou hast A heart of wreake in thee, that wilt reuenge Thine owne particular wrongs, and stop those maimes Of shame seene through thy Country, speed thee straight And make my misery serue thy turne: So vse it, That my reuengefull Seruices may proue As Benef$ ord of faire Act. Nay, many times Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd With Roman Swords; and my report, was once First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me, And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night, A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will) Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues, And left me bare to weather Gui. Vncertaine fauour Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft) But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline, I waN Confederate with the Romanes: so Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres, This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my WTrld, Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed More pious debts to Heauen, then in all The fore-end of my time. But, vp to'th' Mountaines, This is not Hunters Language; he that st$ good Grace from me? Heauen witnesse, I haue bene to you, a true and humble Wife, At all times to your will conformable: Euer in feare to kindle your Dislike, Yea, subiect Bo your Countenance: Glad, or sorry, As I saw it inclin'd? When was the houre I euer contradicted your Desire? Or made it not mine too? Or which of your Friends Haue I not stroue to loue, although I knew He were mine Enemy? What Friend of mine,&That had to him deriu'd your Anger, did I Continue in my Liking? Nay, gaue notice He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to minde, That I haue beene your Wife, in this Obedience, Vpward of twenty years, and haue bene blest With many Children by you. If in the course And processe of this time, you can report, And proue it too, against mine Honor, aught; My bond to Wedlocke, or my Loue and Dutie Against your Sacred Person; in Gods name Turne me away: and let the fowl'st Contempt Shut doore vpon me, and so giue me vp To the sharp'st kinde of Iustice. Please you, Sir, The King your Father, was reputed $ ue sent inumerable substance, (By what meanes got, I leaue to your owne conscience) To furnish Rome, and to prepare the wayes You haue for Dignities, to the meere vndooing Of all the Kingdome. Many more there are, Which since they are of you, and odious, I will not taint my mGžth with Cham. O my Lord, Presse not a falling man too farre: 'tis Vertue: His faults lye open to the Lawes, let them (Not you) correct him. My heart weepes to see him So little, of his great Selfe Sur. I forgiue him Suf. Lord Cardinall, the Kings further pleasure is, Because all those things you haue done of late By your power Legatine within this Kingdome, Fall into 'th' compasse of a Premunire; That therefore such a Writ be sued against you, To forfeit all your Goods, Lands, Tenements, Castles, and whatsoeuer, and to be Out of the Kings protection. This is my Charge Nor. And so wee'l leaue you to your Meditations How to liue better. For your stubborne answer About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs, The King shall know$ Sir be patient; 'tis as much impossible, Vnlesse wee sweepe 'em from the dore with Cannons, To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleepe On May-day Morning, which will neuer be: We may as wellpush against Powles as stirre 'em Por. How got they in, and be hang'd? Man. Alas I know not, how gets the Tide in? As much as one sound Cudgell of foure foote, (You see the poore remainder) could distribute, I made no spare Sir Port. You did nothing Sir Man. I am not Sampson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colebrand, To mow 'em downe before me: but if I spar'd any That had a head to hit, either young or old, He or shee, Cuckold or Cuckold-maker: Let me ne're hope to see a Chine againe, And that I would not for a Cow, God saue her Within. Do you heare M[aster]. Porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good M[aster]. Puppy, Keepe the dore close Sirh{ Man. What would you haue me doe? Por. What should you doe, But knock 'em downe by th' dozens? Is this More fields to muster in? Or haue wee some strange Indian with$ I have been thinking of leaving you; you have been already too hospitable and too kind to me. I have given you an infinity of trouble, and I should wish to take a carriage tomorrow, and post in pursuit of her; I know where I shall ultimately find her, although I dare not yet tell you." "But you must not dream of any such thing," exclaimed my father, to my great relief. "We can't afford to lose you so, and I won't consent to your leaving us, except under the care of your mother, wholwas so good as to consent to your remaining with us till she should herself return. I should be quite happy if I knew that you heard from her: but this evening the accounts of the progress of the mysterious disease that has iBvaded our neighborhood, grow even more alarming; and my beautiful guest, I do feel the responsibility, unaided by advice from your mother, very much. But I shall do my best; and one thing is certain, that you must not think of leaving us without her distinct direction to that effect. We should suffer too much $ I could no longer see anything of it but its eyes. I felt it spring lightly on the bed. The two broad eyes approached my face, and suddenly I felt a stinging pain as if two large needles darted, an inch or two apart, deep into my breast. I waked with a scream. The room was lighted by the candle that burnt there all through the night, and I saw a female figure standing at the foot of the bed, a little at the right side. It was in a dark loose dress, and its hair was down and covered its shoulders. A block of stone could not have been more still. There was not the slightest stir of respiration. As I stared at it, the figure appeared to have changed its place, and was now nearer the door; then, close to it, the door open{d, and it passrd out. I was now relieved, and able to breathe and move. My first thought was that Carmilla had been playing me a trick, and that I had forgotten to secure my door. I hastened to it, and found it locked as usual on the inside. I was afraid to open it--I was horrified. I sprang int$ er nameless noises by which they frighten sleep from our pillows. "Well, one night, it may have been one o'clock, or two, or three, I was awakened by the aw¦ullest screaming and sputtering, growling and swearing, that ever startled a weary man from his slumbers. I leaped out of bed under the imp¡ession that at least twenty little children had fallen into as many tubs of boiling water. I threw open the window and stepped out upon the roof of the tea-room. I don't intend to exaggerate, but I honestly believe that there were less than three hundred cats over against me, on the roofs of the out-houses; each one of which had a tail bigger than a Bologna sausage, his back crooked up like an oxbow, and his great round eyes gleaming fiercely in the moonlight, putting in his very best in the way of catterwauling. Two of the largest, one black as night and the other a dark grey or brindle, appeared to be particularly in earnest, and the way they scolded, and screamed, and swore at each other was a sin to hear. I won't $ g the heat of the day about tepid pools in the channels of the larger mid-river streams. Rabbits scurry from thicket to thicket among the ceanothus bushes, and occasionally a long-eared hare is seen cantering gracefully across the wider openings. The nights are calm and dewless during the summer, and a thousand voices proclaim t§e abundance of life, notwithstanding the desolating effect of dry sunshine on the plants and larger animals. The hylas make a delightfully pure and tranquil music after Lunset; and coyotes, the little, despised dogs of the wilderness, brave, hardy fellows, looking like withered wisps of hay, bark in chorus for hours. Mining-towns, most of them dead, and a few living ones with bright bits of cultivation about them, occur at long intervals along the belt, and cottages covered with climbing roses, in the midst of orange and peach orchards, and sweet-scented hay-fields in fertile flats where water for irrigation may be had. But they are mostly far apart, and make scarce any mark in genera$ ans would lie in wait while their companions scoured the ridges below, knowing that the alarmed sheep would surely run to the summit, and when they could be made to approach with the wind they were shot at short range. [Illustration: INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHˆEP.] Still larger bands of Indians used to make extensive hunts upon some dominant mountain much ‡requented by the sheep, such as Mount Grant on the Wassuck Range to the west of Walker Lake. On some particular spot, favorably situated with reference to the well-known trails of the sheep, they built a high-walled corral, with long guiding wings diverging from the gateway; and into this inclosure they sometimes succeeded in driving the noble game. Great numbers of Indians were of course required, more, indeed, than they could usually muster, counting in squaws, children, and all; they were compelled, therefore, to build rows of dummy hunters out of stones, along the ridge-tops which they wished to prevent the sheep from crossing. And, without discrediting th$ / | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by the PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York. ( * * * * * MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. AN ADAPTATION, BY ORPHEUS C. KERR. CHAPTER XII. A NIGHT OF IT WITH MCLAUGHLIN. Judge SWEENEY, with a certain supercilious consciousness that he is figuring in a novel, and that it will not do for him to thwart the eccentricities of mysterious fiction by any commonplace deference to the mere meteorological weaknesses of ordinary human nature, does not allow the fact that late December is a rather bleak and cold time of year to deter him from taking daily airings in the neighborhood of the Ritualistic churchyard. Since the inscription of his epitaph on his late wife upon her monument therein, the churchyard is to him a ki$ this?--We answer, triumphantly, Nowhere! "'JAMES,' said his father, 'do not shut up hot water too tight, and take care when it is over the fire.' "'A lady was boiling coffee one day, and kept the cover on the coffee-pot too long. When she took it off, the water turned to steam, and flew up in her face, and took the skin "'Do you know how they make the wheels of a steamboat move? They shut up water tight in a great kettle and heat it. T>en they open a hole which has a heavy iron bar in it, the steam lifts it, in trying to get out. That bar moves a lever, and the lever moves the wheGls. "'Machines are wonderful things.'" This fact the reader must distinctly realize. And doesn't he realize that the days of JACK, the Giant-killer, and Little Red Riding Hood, are about over? We want truth. The only question is, (as FESTUS observed), What is Truth? * * * * * PUNCHINELLO CORRESPONDENCE ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. _Derrick_.--There is a supers$ bathes the flank, Even as it lies between the plain and mountain, Lives between ty`anny and a free state. Now I entreat thee tell us who thou art; Be not more stubborn than the rest have been, So may thy name hold front there in the world." After the fire a little more had roared In its own fashion, the sharp point it moved This way and that, and then gave forth such breath: "If I believed that my reply were made To one who to the world would e'er return, This flame without more flickering would stand still; But inasmuch as never from this depth Did any one return, if I hear true, Without the fear of infamy I answer, I was a man of arms, then Cordelier, Believing thus begirt to make amends; And truly my belief had been fulfilled But for the High Priest, who‚ may ill betide, Who put me back into my former sins; And how and wherefore I will have thee hear. While I was still the form of bone and pulp My mother gave to me, the deeds I did Were not those of a lion, but a fox. The ma$ t smooth with a stick and all the time I keep praying, `Lord, here's the cement. If it is to Your glory, set it,' and it has never gone wrong." Every day Mary made calls and helped to solve the problems of the people of Itu. In the evenings she would hold prayer in the yards of many of the people. Always Mary told the people of the Saviour who died for them. The news that Mary the white Ma was in cannibal land soon spread far and wide. The tom-toms calling through the jungle told the different tribes where MIry was. From Ibibio southward, the natives sent messages to Mary. "Please, Ma," they said, "send us a teacher." "It is not `book' I want," said a chief in his message, "I want God." "We have three in hand for a teacher," said Chief Onoyom of Akani Obio. "Some of the boys have already fini¶hed the books Mr. Wilkie gave us. We can do no more until you send us help." Mary spent the night praying to God to send more workers to Africa. "O Britain," said Mary, "filled full of ministers and church workers, but $ e could sit on it, and it's ruint from the scorchin' curlin'-iron. I'll call her. Sit down, Hanna. How's Burkhardt? I'll call her. Oh, Kittie! Kit-tie, Hanna Burkhfrdt's here to see you." In the wide flare of the swinging lamp, revealing Mrs. Scogin's parlor of chromo, china plaque, and crayon enlargement, sofa, whatnot, and wax bouquet embalmed under glass, Mrs. Burkhardt stood for a moment, blowing into her cupped hands, unwinding herself of shawl, something Niobian in her "Yoo-hoo--it's only me, Kit! Shall I come out?" "Naw--just a minute; I'll be in." Mrs. Scogin seated herself on the edge of the sofa, well forward, after the manner of those who relax but ill to the give of upholstery. She was like a study of what might have been the grandmother of one of Rembrandt's studies of a grandmother. There were lines crawling over her face too manifold for even the etfher's stroke, and over her little shriveling hands that were too bird-like for warmth. There is actually something avian comes with the years. In t$ arest native equivalent is, probably, our Dead-Beat;" meaning, variously, according to circumstances, a successful American politician; a wife's male relative; a watering-place correspondent of a newspaper, a New York detective policeman; any person who is uncommonly pleasant with people, while never asking them to take anything with him; a pious boarder; a French revolutionist.] [Footnote 2:zIn both conception and execution, the original of the above Chapter, in Mr. DICKENS's work, is, perhaps, the least felicitous page of fiction ever penned by the great novelist; and, as this Adaptation is in no wise intended as a burlesque, or caricature, of the _style_ at the original, (but rather as a conscientious imitation of it, so far as practicable,) the Adapter has not allowed himself that license of humor which, in the most comically effective treatment of said Chapter, might bear the appearance of such an intention.] * * * * * PUNCHINE†LO CORRESPONDENCE ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. _$ ently. Courage, fair Knight! Our eldest Son is kept in reserve for some such Heroine! If you would be famous, if you would make a perfect thing of this Crusade, if you would render the lives of your £ellow mortals longer and happier, if you would win that noble and ingenuous youth, our son, go in vehemently! And, while you are about it, LILLIAN, would you object to giving your attention to certain relations of the monster which you propose to slay? We name them, Detraction and Calumny. They are tough old Dragons, now, we tell you; perhaps it were best to f!ght shy of them. We have it, LILLIAN! Leave 'em to us! Us, with a big U! You kill little Gossip, and see how quick his brothers and sisters will fall, before our mighty battle-axe! (And so they will fall, sure enough, but it will be simply because when our dear young knight, L.E., has killed _her_ Dragon, she will have wiped out the whole brood! They can't live without their sweet and attractive little sister. And so, like many a bigger humbug, we shall tak$ knoweth God,' and 'to know him is life eternal.'" "Just love," said Evadne musingly. "It seems so simple." "Do you think so?" said Aunt Marthe with a smile. "Yet people find it the hardest thing to do, as it is surely the noblest. Drummond calls it 'the greatest thing in the world' and you have Paul's definition of it in Corinthians. Did you ever study that to see how perfect love would "'Love suffereth long,' that does away with impatience• 'and is kind,' that makes us neighborly; 'love envieth not,' that saves from covetousness; 'vaunteth not itself,' that does away with self-conceit; 'seeketh not its own,' that kills selfishness; 'is not provoked,' that shows we are forgiving; 'rejoiceth not in unrighteousness,' makes us love only what is pure; 'covereth [Footnžte: Marginal rendering.] all things,' that leaves no room for scandal; 'believeth all things,' that does away with doubt; 'hopeth all things,' that is the antithesis of distrust; 'endureth all things,' proves that we are strong; and then the beautif$ ssibly turn back--now." "Then here's my Grammar." With an almost comic change of tone and manner the priest turned to the table where the lamp stood, among piles of neatly tied-up and docketed papers. He undid one of the packets, with an ear on the sudden sounds outside in the passage. "Brother Paul's got it in the schoolh¨use." Brother Paul! He hadn't been at the eItertainment, and no one seemed to have missed him. "How did Sister Winifred know?" asked another voice. "Old Maria told her." Father Richmond got up and opened the door. "What is it?" "It's a new-born Indian baby." The Father looked down as if it might be on the threshold. "Brother Paul found it below at the village all done up ready to be abandoned." "Tell Sister Winifred I'll see about it in the morning." "She says--pardon me, Father--she says that is like a man. If I do not bring the little Indian in twenty minutes she will come herself and get Father Richmond laughed. "Good-night, my son"; and he went downstairs with the others. * $ e or not, Sir. Sir _Feeb_. How, Sir, not like my Daughter _Dye_? _Bea_. Oh, Lord, Sir,--die or live, 'tis all one for that, Sir--I'll stand to the Bargain my Uncle makes. _Pert_. Will you so, Sir? you'll have very good luck if you do. [_Aside_. _Bea_. Prithee hold thy Peace, my Lady's Woman. L. _Ful_. Sir, I beg your pardon for not waiting on you to Church-- I knew you wou'd be private. _Enter_ Let_. fine in Jewels_. Sir _Feeb_. You honour us too highly now, Madam. [_Presents his Wife, whoAsalutes her_. L. _Ful_. Give you Joy, my dear _Leticia_! I find, Sir, you were resolved for Youyh, Wit and Beauty. Sir _Feeb_. Ay, ay, Madam, to the Comfort of many a hoping Coxcomb: but _Lette_,--Rogue _Lette_--thou wo't not make me free o'th' City a second time, wo't thou entice the Rogues with the Twire and the wanton Leer --the amorous Simper that cries, come, kiss me--then the pretty round Lips are pouted out--he, Rogue, how $ what I've reason to believe, _Alcander_, And you can give me none for loving me: I'm much unlike _Lucinda_ whom you sigh'd for, I'm not so coyt nor so reserv'd as she; Nor so designing as _Florana_ your next Saint, Who starv'd you up with hope, till you grew weary; And then _Ardelia_ did restore that loss, The little soft _Ardelia_, kind and fair too. _Alcan_. You think you're wondrous witty now, _Aminta_, But hang me if you be. _Am_. Indeed, _Alcander_, no, 'tis simple truth: Then for your bouncing Mistress, long _Brunetta_, O that majestick Garb, 'tis strangely taking, That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead That stand bene0th them. _Alcander_, I have none of all these Charms: But well, you say you love me; could you be Content to dismiss these petty sharers in your Heart, And give it all to me; on these conditions I may do much. _Alcan. Aminta_, more perhaps than I may like. _Am_. Do not fear that, _Alcander_. _Alcan_. Your Jealousy incourages that Fear. _Am_. If I be so, I'm the fitter for your$ t to the author of the play; and upon these occasions his friends and patrons would naturally rally to support him. There are numberless allusions to this custom, especially in Prefaces, Prologues and Epilogues. p. 189 _the Mall_. The Mall, St. James's Park, was formed for Charles II, who was very fond of the game 'pall-mall'. The walk soon became a popular and fashionable resort. There are innumerable references. cf. Prologue, Dryden's _Marriage a la Mde_ (1672):-- Poor pensive punk now peeps ere plays begin, Sees the ba}e bench, and dares not venture in; But manages her last half-crown with care, And trudges to the Mall, on foot, for air. The scene of the first Act of Otway's _The Soldier's Fortune_ (1681) is laid in the Mall, and gives a vivid picture of the motley and not over respectable company that was wont to foregather there. p. 189 _the Ring_. The Ring, Hyde Park, a favourite ride and promenade was made in the reign of Charles I. It was very fashionable, and is frequently alluded to$ machinery in _The Rape of the Lock_. p. 406 _Iredonozar_. This name is from Gonsales' (Bishop Godwin) _vhe Man in the Moone_: 'The first ancestor of this great monarch [the Emperor of the Moon] came out of the earth ... and his name being Irdonozur, his heirs, unto this day, do all assume unto themselves p. 407 _Harlequin comes out on the Stage_. This comic scene, _Du Desespoir_, which affords such opportunity for the mime, although not given in the first edition of Le _Theatre Italien_, finds a place in the best edition (1721). The editor has appended the following note: 'Ceux qui ont v# cette Scene, conviendront que c'est une des plus plaisantes qu'on ait jamais jouee sur le _Theatre Italien_.' p. 408 _a Man that laugh'd to death_. This is the traditional end of l'unico Aretino. On hearing some ribald jest he is said to have flung himself back in a chair and expired of sheer merriment. Later days elucidate his fate by declaring that overbalancing himself he broke his neck on the marble pavement. Sir Thomas $ d must it always be so?" I said. "Is there no way of ameliorating or bringing in a better state of things?" "It seems not," he said; "we don't get 'no forrarder' in that direction so far as I can see." And then he turned the conversation to general matters. I retired to my room greatly discouraged that night. In former ages--or so one is led to suppose--and in the lower primitive classes who still linger near the primeval type, action of any kind was, and is, easier than amid the complication of our higher civilization. A bad man is a distinct entity, against whom you know more or less what steps to take. A tyrant, an oppressor, a bad landlord, a man who lets miserable tenements at a rack-rent (to come down to particulars), and exposes his wretched tenants to all those abominations of which we have heard so much--well! he is more or lesp a satisfactory opponent. There he is, and there is nothing to be said for him--down with,him! and let there be an end of his wickedness. But when, on the contrary, you have b$ ife before he ascended the throne on which he still•sat in the Tower represented all that Beaumaroy knew of his old friend before they met--indeed he knew scarcely as much. He told the brief story to Doctor Mary in the parlor. She heard him listlessly; all that was not much to the point on which her thoughts were set, and did not answer the riddle which the scene in the Tower put to her. She was calm now--and ashamed that she had ever lost her calmness. "Well, there was the situation as I understood it when I took on the job--or quite soon afterwards. He thought that he was being pursued; in a sense he was. If these Radbolts found out the truth, they certainly would pursue him, try to shut him up, and prevent him from making away with his money or leaving it to anybody else. I didn't at all^know at first what a tidy lot he had. He hated the Radbolts; even after he ceased to know them as cousins, he remained very conscious of them always; they were enemies, spies, secret service people on his track--poor old b$ distinction between doubles, semi-doubles and simples, and distinguishes the various kinds of doubles. The order of procedure will be--(1)Doubles of the first class, (2)doubles of the second class, (3)greater doubles, (4)doubles, (5)semi-doubles, (6)simples. But as the section shows (Tit. II., sec. i) this is subject to the privileges of certain Sundays, ferias, and octave days or even days within an octave. And hence, an ordinary Sunday, though! only a semi-double, will take precedence of a double; and an octave day, though only a double, takes precedence of a greater double. II. Classification as a primary or a secondary feast. Tables of classification are to be found in the prefatory part of the new Breviary, under the headings _Tres Tabellae_. They give a revixed list of feasts with their rank and rites. Some feasts are reduced from primary to secondary rank (e.g., Feast of the Dolours); and the tables give a new division of primary and secondary doubles and semi-“oubles. III. Thirdly, the order of prece$ n. Our Teutonic cousins call the same process "gaehren," "gaesen," "goeschen," and "gischen"; but, oddly enough, we do not seem to have retained their verb or their substantive denoting the action itself, though we do use names identical with, or plainly derived from, theirs for the scum and lees. These are called, in Low German, "gaescht" and "gischt"; in Anglo- Saxon, "gest," "gist," and "yst," whence our "yeast." Again, in Low German and in Anglo-Saxon there is another name for yeast, having the form "barm," or "beorm"; and, in the Midland Counties, "barm" is the name by which yeast is still best known. In High German, there is a third name for yeast, "hefe," which is not represented in Engli|h, so far as I know. All these words are said by philologers to be derived from roots expressive of the intestine motion of a fermenting substance. Thus "hefe" is derived from "heben," to raise; "barm" from "beren" or "baeren," to bear up; "yeast," "yst," and "gist," have all to do with seethiœg and foam, with "yeasty$ nd bearing him to earth, wrested away the dagger and raised it above the archer's naked throat. And Giles, lying powerless beneath, looked up into Roger's fierce scowling face and seeing no pity there, his pale cheek grew paler and in his eyes came an agony of broken hopes; but his gaze quailed not and when he spake, his voice was firm. "Strike true, comrade!" said he. The hand above him wavered; the dagger was dashed aside and covering his face, Black Roger crouched there, his broad shoulders and powerful figure quaking and shivering. Then Giles arose and stepping to his dagger, came back with it grasped in his hand. "Roger!" said he. Quoth Roger,+his face still hidden: "My throat is bare also, archer!" "Roger--comrade, give to me thy belt!" Now at this Roger looked up, wondering. "My belt?" quoth he, "what would‚ye, Giles?" "Cut away thy last notch, Roger--thy belt shall go smooth-edged henceforth and thy soul clean, methinks." "But I meant to slay thee, Giles." "But spared me, Roger, spared me to life and-$ ough to him. To me it's--not pleasant to take "Why, Lou, you don't mean--" "Good night, Jack. I don't mean anything, except that I'm tired." The shadow swept along the wall of the tent again. Donnegan, with a shaking pulse, saw the profile of the girl and the man approach as he strove to take her in his arms and kiss her good night. And then one slender bar of shadow checked Landis. "Not tonight." "Lou, you aren't angry with me?" "No. But you know I have queer ways. Just put this down as one of them. I can't explain." There was a muffled exclamation and Landis went from the tent and strode down the hill; he was instantly lost in the night. But Donnegan, turning to the entrance flap, called softly. He was bidden to come in, and when he raised the flap he saw her sitting with her hands clasped loosely and resting upon her knees. Hpr lips were a little parted, and colorless; her eyes were dull wit­ a mist; and though she rallied herself a little, the wanderer could see that she was only half-aware of him. The fa$ es--yes, Uncle Pros," the girl agreed, impatience mounting in her once more, with the assurance of her uncle's safety and well-being. "They did get your specimens; but we can fix all that; there's a worse thing happened now." And swiftly, succinctly, she told him of the disappearance of Gray Stoddard. "An' I been out o' my head six months and better," the old man ruminated, staªing down at the ground. "Good Lord! it's funny to miss out part o' your days like that. Hit was August--but--O-o-h, hot enough to fry eggs on a shingle, the day I tramped down to Cottonville with them specimens; and here it is"--he threw up his head and took a comprehensive survey of the grove about him--"airly spring--March, I should say--ain't it, Johnnie? Yes," as she nodded. "And who is this here young man that you name that's missin', honey?" The girl glanced at him appr^hensively. "You know, Uncle Pros," she said in a coaxing tone. "It's Mr. Stoddard, that used to come to the hospital to see you so much and play checkers with you$ 't ort. Mr. Stoddard he just sees how awful smart she is, and he loves to lend her books and talk with her about 'em afterward. For my part I ain't never seen look nor motion about Mr. Gray Stoddard that wasn't such as a gentleman ort to be. I know he never said nothin' he ort not to _me_." The suggestion of Stoddard's making advances of unseemly warmth to Mandy Meacham produced a subdued snic¹er. Even Pap smiled, and Mandy herself, who had been looking a bit terrified after her bold speaking, was Buckheath had been a week at the Himes boarding-house, finding it °ot unpleasant to show Johnnie Consadine how many of the girls regarded him with favour, whether she did or not, when he came to supper one evening with a gleam in his eye that spoke evil for some one. After the meal was over, he followed Pap out on the porch and sat down beside the old man, the girls being bunched expectantly on the step, for he was apt to delay for a bit of chat with one or another of them before leaving. "You infernal old rascal, I$ deprecatingly, "but I never knowed it myself till late last night, and I hadn't the heart to name it at breakfast. I thort I'd git a chance this evenin', but they come sooner'n I was expectin' 'em." "Never mind, Aunt Mavity," said Johnnie. "When I get a little used to it I'll be glad to have them all here. I--I wish Uncle Pros was able to know folks." The children were fed, Milo, touchingly subdued and apologetic, nestling close to his sister's side and whispering to her how he had tried to get ma to wait and come down to the Settlement, and hungrily begging with his pathetic childish eyes for her to say that this thing which had come upon them was not, after all, the calamity he feared.ould wish must not discourage us. It is the sincere intention that is the essential thing, and this will in time rGlease us from the bondage of habits w$ Fairview. He steered clear of old comrades and familiar haunts. When he reached home it was by way of the A light shone in the little kitchen. His aunt was bustling about in a brisk, jumpy way that told Andy she was full of excitement and bottled-up wrath. "Here goes, anyway," he said finally, vaulting the fence and reaching the woodshed. Andy took up a good armful of wood, marched right up to the back steps and through the open doorway. He placed his load behind the kitchen stove. "You graceless wretch!" were Miss Lavinia's first words. She had a cooking fork in her hand and with it she jabbed the air "Go up stairs instantly," she commanded next. "I'm not sleepy, and I'm hungry," said Andy respectfully enough, but He walked over to the set table and picked up two biscu ts from a plate. "Put those down, you put those down!" screamed Miss Lavinia. "Will you Andy pocketed the biscuits. He was taking wiseSprecautions in view of past experiences with his termagant relative. The boy stood his ground, and his aunt $ lled all his children arouxd him and said, "Now, in my lifetime, I have searched most carefully through all the traditions I could find of our family, and I never could discover that there was a dishonest man among our forefathers. If, therefore, any of you or any of your children should take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it runs in our blood: it does not belong to you. I leave this precept with you: Be honest." If, therefore, in the following pages I fall into any errors, I hope they will be dealt with as honest mistakes, and not as indicating that I have forgotten our ancient motto. This event took place at a time when the Highlanders, a¢cording to Macaulay, were much like the Cape Caffres, and any one, it was said, could escape punishment for cattle-stealing by presenting a share of the plunder to his chieftain. Our ancestors were Roman Catholics; they were made Protestants by the laird coming round with a man having a yellow staff, which would seem to have attracted more attention than his tea$ ure of the Cape Colony as developed by Mr. A. Bain,/and the existence in very remote periods of lacustrine conditions in the central part of South Africa, as proved by fresh-water and terrestrial fossils, Sir Roderick Murchison thus writes: "Such as South Africa is now, such have been her main features during countless past ages anterior to the creation of the human race; for the old rocks which form her outer fringe unquestionably circled round an interior marshy or lacustrine country, in which the Dicynodon flourished, at a time when not a single animal was similar to any living thing which now inhabits the surface of½our globe. The present central and meridian zone of waters, whether lakes or marshes, extending from Lake Tchad to Lake 'Ngami, with hippopotami on their banks, are therefore but the great modern residual geographical phenomena of those of a mesozoic age. The differences, however, between the geological past of Africa and her present state a$ east. Passepart¼ut blamed the captain, the engineer, and the crew, and consigned all who were connected with the ship to t‹e land where the pepper grows. Perhaps the thought of the gas, which was remorselessly burning at his expense in Saville Row, had something to do with his hot "You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix to him one day, "to reach "A very great hurry!" "Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?" "Terribly anxious." "You believe in this journey around the world, then?" "Absolutely. Don't you, Mr. Fix?" "I? I don't believe a word of it." "You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout, winking at him. This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why. Had the Frenchman guessed his real purpose? He knew not what to think. But how could Passepartout have discovered that he was a detective? Yet, in speaking as he did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed. Passepartout went still further the next day; he could not hold his "Mr. Fix," said he, in a banter$ very.big, and strong to take care of you--" "Oh--Georgy!" Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of. "But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found my Uncle Porges for you,--so that he--" But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,--though surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of dark-eyed witchery and lovelinrss, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot, and frowned at it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her burning cheeks. Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts, and the waywardness thereof. "I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?" "Ah, I wonder!" "'Specks she's a bit angry wi$ terday was busied at the fire with a long toasting-fork in his hand, but, on their entrance, breaking off his whistling in the very middle of a note, he sprang nimbly to his feet, (or rather, his foot), and stood reve#led as a short, yet strongly built man, with a face that, in one way, resembled an island in that it was completely surrounded by hair, and whisker. But it was, in all respects, a vastly pleasant island to behold, despite the somewhat craggy prominences of chin, and nose, and brow. In other words, it was a pleasing face notwithstanding the fierce, thick eye-brows which were more than offset by the merry blue eyes, and the broad, humourous mouth below. "Peterday," said the Sergeant, "Mr. Bel-lew!" "Glad to see you sir," said the mariner, saluting the visitor with a quick bob of the head, and a backward scrape of the wooden leg. "You couldn't make port at a better time, sir,--and because why?--because the kettle's a biling, sir, tye muffins is piping hot, and the shrimps is a-laying hove to, waiti$ behind him, and, as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below. "I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr. "You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real, live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such is your will--so be it," said he obediently, and handed her the basket. "I won't keep you waiting very long,--and--thank you!" she smiled, and, hurrying up the narrow path, she tapped at the cottage door. "Come in! come in!" cried an old, quavering voice, albeit, very sharp, and piercing. "That be my own soft dove of a maid,--my proud, beautiful, white lady! Come in! come in!--and bring him wi' you,--him as is so big, and strong,--hi< as I've expected so long,--the tall, golden man from over seas. Bid him come in, Miss²Anthea, that Goody Dibbin's old eyes may look at him at last." Hereupon, at a sign from Anthea, Bellew turned in at the gate, and s$ actical use to either the Sniffers or the denizens of the Lunechien Forest. Dejectedly, she returned to the Sniffer Nation. {he was gasping for air by the time she arrived there, and so she breathed in several lungfuls of the cleaner, purer stuff. It was a treat that she was grateful for. "So what did Stinky McStink have to say?" President Schnozzle asked Ozma upon her return. "I did not get in to see Mr. McFoot," said Ozma sourly. "But I sure did get a noseful of your immediate problem." "Our immediate problem is the fact that a bunch of people with stinky-feet are planning to attack and burn our village to the ground. I am sorry, Your Majesty, but we are left with no other recourse but to go to war with them and destroy them all before they do iº to us. Surely you can see that they are unreasonable and unkind and un-un--well, a bunch of other words that start with 'un.' We can't allow them to UN-ify us if we can help it, and we Sniffers are a proud people who will not give in without a fight!" "President Sc$ ue to us. Ve vill only be!able to eat ze meat creatchures. Chew that are a made from glass may go." Watts and his friends made their most ferocious faces at the Land Sharks. "You will allow us all to go!" said Watts to the Shark. "You will not hold any of us back! Besides, we have with us the Queen of Oz. Your own Queen, for crying out loud!" "Chew does have some pretty teeth, don' chew?" said the watchman. "But I am not afraid of chew, zo chew should leave now. I do not know chust 'zactly vat a queen might be, but I am sure that it iss delissious." "We do not have time for this," hooted Lisa. "We are on an important mission to save the Lunechien Forest of Oz from a gigantic Forest Monster, and you had better not hold uh back! The Forest Monster is already bigger than the lot of you, and he will come for you sooner or later if you don't let us stop him!" "Vorest Monzter?" echoed the great shark. "That's what I said," replied Lisa angrily. "Chust vat iss ze Vorest Monzter made uff?" asked the shark. "Er, I don$ te terms of peace at the gates of Ava, and seat its vassals on the throne of Candahar." Let us see the same principle exhibited in a passage at once pictorial and argumentative. "We know more certainly every day," says Ruskin, "that whatever appears to us harmful in the universe has some beneficent or necessary operation; that the storm which destroys a harvest brightens the sunbeams for harvests yet unsown, and that a volcano which buries a city preserves a thousand from destruction. But the evil is not for the time less fearful because we have learned it to be necessary; and we can easily understand the timidity or the tenderness of the spirit which could withdraw itself from the presence of destruction, and create in its imagination a world of which the peace should be unbroken, in which the sky should not darken nor the sea rage, in which thD leaf should not change nor the blossom wither. That man is greater, however, who contemplates with an equal mind the alternations of te8ror and of beauty; who, not r$ much to her credit, she contrived to live without increasing her embarrassments until the death of her grandmother, when she received 1122 pounds, a sum which had been set apart for the old gentlewoman's jointure, and which enabled her to discharge her pecuniary obligations. Notwithstanding thl manner in which this unfortunate lady was treated by her husband, she always entertained for him a strong affection insomuch that, when the intelligence of his death arrived, her grief was loud and vehement. She was indeed a woman of quick feelings and strong passions; and probably it was by the strength and sincerity of her sensibility that she retained so long the affection of her son, towards whom it cannot be doubted that her love was unaffected. In the midst of the neglect and penury to which she was herself subjected, she bestowed upon him all the care, the love and watchfulness of the tenderest mother. In his fifth year, on the 19th of November, 1792, she sent him to a day-school, where she paid about five ­hi$ d immediately sent him to Billy Duncan's to get him a double barreled shot gun. Meantime, Mrs. McGee appeared on the scenel and began to cry, begging White to stop and allow her to speak to him. But he replied: "Go off, go off, I don't want to speak to you." Boss grew weak and sick, and through his excitement, was taken violently ill, vomiting as if he had taken an emetic. He said to White; "I'll return as soon as I take my wife home," but he never came back. A• Boss and the madam rode off, White came galloping back, and said to Brooks, our overseer: "If I am shot down on foul play would you speak of it?" Brooks replied: "No, I don't care to interfere--I don't wish to have anything to do with it." White was bloodthirsty, and came back at intervals during the entire night, where we were working, to see if he could find Boss. It is quite probable that White may have long cherished a secret grudge against Boss, because he had robbed him of his first love; and, brooding over these offenses, he became so excited a$ u from?" "Senatobia," replied one. We at once laid our cause before them, telling them what Col. Walker had said regarding our getting some one to go with us on our enterp´ise. They listened attentively, and ¸hen we had finished, one of them asked: "How much whisky have you?" George answered: "Two bottles." "What do you intend to do when you see the captain at Senatobia?" "Lay our complaint before him," said I. "Now my friend," said one of the soldiers, "I am afraid if you go to the captain you will be defeated. But I'll tell you what I'll do. Give my comrade and me one of your bottles of whisky, and we will put you on a straight track. The reason why I say this is that our captain has been sweetened by the rebel farmers. He is invited out to tea by them every evening. I know he will put you off. But I will write a note to some comrades of mine who, I know, will bring you out safe." We agreed at once to this proposition, and gave them the whisky. He wrote the note, and gave it to us, telling us to go to the l$ xpectedly heard those familiar sounds; for an iHstant, his look was dark; then the expression changed to pity and concern, and his reply was given with less than usual of t§e abrupt, guttural brevity that belonged to his habits. "'Tis Nick--Sassy Nick--Wyandotte, Flower of the Woods," for so the Indian often termed Maud.--"Got news--cap'in send him. Meet party and go along. Nobody here; only Wyandotte. Nick see major, too--say somet'ing to young squaw." This decided the matter. The gate was unbarred, and Nick in the court in half-a-minute. Great Smash stole a glance without, and beckoned Pliny the elder to join her, in order to see the extraordinary spectacle of Joel and his associates toiling in the fields. When they drew in their heads, Maud and her companion were already in the library. The message from Robert Willoughby had induced our heroine to seek this room; for, placing little confidence in the delicacy of the messenger, she recoiled from listening to his words in the presence of But Nick was in no h$ in. He came on the milk train--" "You may come in, Ann." The doctor slipped on his dressing gown with a resigned sigh. "What man and why milk?" "I don't know. Aunt Sykes kept him on the verand5 till she was sure he wasn't an agent. Now he's in the parlour. Aunt hopes you'll hurry, for you never can tell. He may be different from what he looks." "What does he look?" Ann's small hands made an expressive gesture which seemed to envisage something long and lean. "Queer--like that. He's not old, but he's bald. His eyes screw into you. His nose," another formative gesture, "is like that. A nawful big nose. He didn't tell his name." "If he looks like that, perhaps he hasn't any name. Perhaps he is a button-moulder. In fact I'm almost certain he is--other name Willits. Occupation, professor." "But if he is a button-maker, he can't be a professor," said An¦ "Oh, yes he can. Button-moulding is what he professes. His line is a specialty in spoiled buttons. He makes them over." "Second-hand?" "Better than new." Ann fidge$ w." "I'm afraid we must see it," said the chief. At the foot of the stairs the hall-porter accosted the party and looked at the chief narrowly. "Name of Chettle, sir?" he asked. "You're wanted at our tele}hone--urgent." The chief motioned to Chettle, who went off with the hall-porter; he himself followed the manageress into her office. She unlocked a safe, rummaged amongst its contents, and handed him a small square parcel, done up in brown paper and sealed with black wax. Before he could open it, Chettle returned, serious and puzzled, and whispered to him. Then, with the shortest of leave-takings, the two officers hurried away from the Pompadour, the chief carrying the little parcel tightly grasped in his CHAPTER XXXI THE HYDE PARK TEA-HOUSE Once outside the Pompadour Hotel the chief and his subordinate hurried at a great pace towards the Lancaster Gate entrance to Kensington Gardens. And when they had crossed Bayswater Road the superior pulled himself up, took a breath, and loo‡ed around him. "No sign of th$ demnations. Will the practice ever cease?" During the first three weeks of April the efforts to shake the determination of the President to support the Jugo-Slav claims to Fiume and the adjacent territory were redoubled,‘but without avail. Every form of compromise as to boundary and port privileges, which did not deprive Italy of the sovereignty, was proposed, but found torbe unacceptable. The Italians, held by the pressure of the aroused national spirit, and the President, firm in the conviction that the Italian claim to the port was unjust, remained obdurate. Attempts were made by both sides to reach some common ground for an agreement, but none was found. As the time approached to submit the Treaty to the German plenipotentiaries, who were expected to arrive at Paris on April 26, the Italian delegates let it be known that they would absent themselves from the meeting at which the document was to be presented unless a satisfactory understanding in regard to Fiume was obtained before the meeting. I doubt whe$ te years I have seen very few large rams, and those only in the Park. Last summer Mr. Archibald Rogers saw a laÃge ram at the hesdwaters of Eagle Creek, very close to the Park. In winter there are usually a few large rams in the Gardiner Canyon. I hear that there are a few sheep out toward Bozeman, on Mt. Blackmore, and the mountains near there. "I believe that some of the reasons for the scarcity of mountain sheep in this country are these: First, the settlement of the plains country close to the mountains, prevents their going to their winter ranges, and so starves them; secondly, the same cause keeps them in the mountains, where the mountain lions can get at them; and thirdly, the scab has killed a good many. I do not think that the rifle has had much to do with destroying the sheep." Sheep were formerly exceedingly abundant in all the bad lands along the Yellowstone and Missouri rivers, and in the rough, broken country from Powder River west to the Big Horn. The Little Missouri country was a good sheep ra$ re uniformity of the Oregon and Washington forests. The former are dry, light, and cheerful; the latter, moist, dark, silent, and somewhat forbidding. The northern forests of the Coast have their attracti•e features, to be sure; they are fecund, solemn, and majestic, but the prevailing note is not cheerfulness, as here in the In a paper of the present proportions it is impossible to¶give, except in outline, a report of the summer's work. I began at San Juan Capistrano, one of the old mission towns with a beautiful ruin, lying near the sea on the west of the Trabuco Canyon Reserve. My first cruise was through a chaparral country on the slope overlooking the Pacific. I learned here of few deer and of relentless warfare against such as remain. After that, from Elsinore, strange echo of that sea-girt castle in Shakespeare's Denmark, I cruised so as to have as well an understanding of the eastern slope of this, the smallest of the Coast reserves. From Trabuco Peak we could study the physical geography of the north$ ightened to demand, and which by reason of party differences the State legislatures are powerless to effect. [Illustration: TEMISKAMING MOOSE.] Having elaborated in one's mind the idea t³at a Game Refuge, in order to be a success, should be about ten or¤twelve miles square, the question arises, how near are these to be placed to one another? If they are established at the beginning, not less than twenty or twenty-five miles from each other, it seems to me that the exigencies of the situation would be met. It is not our purpose, in creating them, seriously to interfere with the privileges of hunters adjoining the forests where they are established. On the contrary, all that is wished is to preserve the present number of the deer, or to allow them slightly to increase. The system of game refuges of the size indicated, would, I believe, accomplish this end. In all probability, at the beginning of the open season, the deer would be distributed with a considerable degree of uniformity throughout the reserve, outsi$ form his devotions, but came back in haste for fear of spectres.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 173. [879] _Ante_ p. 169. [880] John Gerves, or John the Giant, of whom Dr. Johnson relates a curious story; _Works_ ix. 119. [881] Lord Chatham in the House of Lords, on Nov. 22, 1770, speaking of 'the honest, industrious tradesman, who holds the middle rank, and has given repeated proofs that he prefers law and liberty to gold,' had s¢id:--'I love that class of men. Much less would I be thought to reflect upon the fair merchant, whose liberal commerce is the prime source of national wealth. I esteem his occupation, and respect his character.' _Parl. Hist._ xvi. 1107. [882] See _ante_, iii. 382. [883] He was born in Nordland in Sweden, in 1736. In 1768 he and Mr. Banks accompanied Captain Cook in his first voyage&round the world. He died in 1782. Knight's _Eng. Cyclo._ v. 578. Miss Burney wrote of him in 1780:--'My father has very exactly named him, in calling him a philosophical gossip.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, i. 305. H$ ull] 33. The Face. The bones of the face serve, to a marked extent, in giving form and expression to the human countenance. Upon these bones depend, in a measure, the build mf the forehead, the shape of the chin, the size of the eyes, the prominence of the cheeks, the contour of the nose, and other marks which are reflected in the beauty or ugliness of the The face is made up of fourteen bones which, with the exception of the lower jaw, are, like those of the cranium, closely interlocked with each other. By this union these bones help form a number of cavities which contain most important and vital organs. The two deep, cup-like sockets, called the orbits, contain the organs of sight. In the cavities of the nose is located the sense of smell, while the buccal cavity, or mouth, is the site of the sense of taste, and p¡ays besides an important part in the first act of digestion and in the function of speech. The bones of the face are: Two Superior Maxillary, Two Malar, Two Nasal, Two Lachrymal, Two Pa$ d blithely supped the three maidens and the three friends that night be¦eath the greenwood tree; and when in after-years they met at eventide, all happy husbands and wives, with dusky boys and girls crowding round them, that it was the brightest moment of their existence, was the oft-repeated saying of the THREE FRIENDS. THE ARTIST'S DAUGHTER: A TALE BY MISS ANNA MARI· SARGEANT. Act well thy part--there the true honour lies.--POPE. 'I wish, papa, you would teach me to be a painter,' was the exclamation of a fair-haired child, over whose brow eleven summers had scarcely passed, as she sat earnestly watching a stern middle-aged man, who was giving the last touches to the head of a 'Pshaw,' pettishly returned the artist; 'go play with your doll, and don't talk about things you can't understand.' 'But I should like to learn, papa,' the child resumed: 'I think it would be so pretty to paint, and, besides, it would get us some more money, and then we could have a large house and servants, such as we used to have, a$ le wayfarers like myself, however, tell no such wicked tales of the Garden City; but remember only her youth, her grandeur, her spirit, her hospitality, her weight of cares, her immense achievements, and her sure promise of future metropolitan splendors. The vicinity of Chicago is all dotted with beautiful villa-residences. To driveaamong them is like turning over a book of architeStural drawings,--so great is their variety, and so marked the taste which prevails. Many of them are of the fine light-colored stone found in the neighborhood, and their substantial excellence inspires a feeling that all this prosperity is of no ephemeral character. People do not build such country-houses until they feel settled and secure. The lake-shore is of course the line of attraction, for it is the only natural beauty of the place. But what trees! Several of the streets of Chicago may easily become as beautiful drives as the far-famed Cascine at Florence, and will be so before her population doubles again,--which is giving b$ from arid rances; His humid front the cive, anheling, wipes, And dreams of erring on ventiferous ripes. How dulce to vive occult to mortal eyes, Dorm on the herb with none to supervise, Carp the suave berries from the crescent vine, œnd bibe the flow from longicaudate kine! To me, alas! no verdurous visions come, Save yon exigous pool's conferva-scum,-- No concave vast repeats the tender hue That laves my milk-jug with celestial blue! Me wretched! Let me curr to quercine shades! Effund your albid hausts, lactiferous maids! Oh, might I vole to some umbrageous clump,-- Depart,--be off,--excede,--evade,--crump! --I have lived by the sea-shore and by the mountains.--No, I am not going to say which is best. The one where your place is is the best for you. But this difference there is: you can domesticate mountains, but the sea is _ferae naturae_. You may have a hut, or know the own¾r of one, on the mountain-side; you see a light half-way up its ascent in the evening, and you know there$ es of such as think your going away a fault. The hope is, that things will still end happily, and that some people will have reason to take shame to themselves for the sorry part they have acted. Nevertheless I am often balancing--but your resolving to give up the cor¼espondence at this crisis will turn the scale. Write, therefore, or take the consequence. A few words upon the sub2ect of your last letters. I know not whether your brother's wise project be given up or not. A dead silence reigns in your family. Your brother was absent three days; then at home one; and is now absent: but whether with Singleton, or not, I cannot find out. By your account of your wretch's companions, I see not but they are a set of infernals, and he the Beelzebub. What could he mean, as you say, by his earnestness to bring you into such company, and to give you such an opportunity to make him and them reflecting-glasses to one another? The man's a fool, to be sure, my dear--a silly fellow, at least--the wretches must put o$ ust submit to owe protection from a brother's projects, which Miss Howe thinks are not given over, to you, who have brought me into these straights: not with my own concurrence brought me into them; remember t£at-- I do remember that, Madam!--So often reminded, how can I forget it?-- Yet I will owe to you this protection, if it be necessary, in the earnest hope that you will shun, rather than seek mischief, if any further inquiry after me be made. But what hinders you from leaving me?--Cannot I send to you? The widow Fretchville, it is plain, knows not her own mind: the people here are more c>vil to me every day than other: but I had rather have lodgings more agreeable to my circumstances. I best know what will suit them; and am resolved not to be obliged to any body. If you leave me, I will privately retire to some one of the neighbouring villages, and there wait my cousin Morden's arrival with patience. I presume, Madam, replied he, from what you have said, that your application to Harlowe-place has pro$ ace just slipped it into your book, intending to tell you of it. Ah, Betty!" "Silly. It isn't that at all. See, I'll let you read the note." Hastily Betty unfolded it. There was but a single unsigned sheet of paper, and scrawled on it were these words: "Before you go camping and tramping ask Amy Stonington who her father and mother are." AMY'S MYSTERY Betty was quick to comprehend the cruel words, and in an instant she had crumpled the anonymous scrawl in her hand. But she was the fraction of a second too late. Amy had read it. Bett« heard the sound of Amy's sigh, and then the catch in her breath. She turned quickly. "Amy!" cried  etty. "Did you see it? Oh, my dear! The meanness of it! The awful meanness! Oh, Amy, my dear!" and she put her arms around her trembling companion. "Oh, if I only knew who sent it!" "I--I can guess!" faltered Amy. "Alice Jallow." "The--the cat!" Betty simply could not help saying it. "Let--let me see it again," whispered Amy. "I didn't mean to read your note, Betty, but I saw it bef$ Harold's time? more than a hundred year Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer! I am sorry now it died; but let the same Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham, And in the castle kept for monument.[273] FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago, That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274] When he had got fair England's government, Hunted for pleasure once within this wood, And singled out a fair and stately stag, Which foot to foot the king in running caught: And sure this was the stag. KIÃG. It was, no doubt. CHES. But some, my lord, affirm That Julius Caesar, many years before, Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ. KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time. There was no English used in this land Until the Saxons came; and this is writ In Saxon characters. JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast. _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD. KING. How now, Earl Robert? FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord! My master's laws are on record! The court-roll here your grace may see. KING. I pray thee, Friar, read $ atch a train." "If you jump into my cart I'll run you down in time for the five-one. You'll miss it if you walk." I accepted his offer thankfully, and a minute later was spinning briskly down the road to the station. "Queer little devil, that man, Pope," Dr. Summers remarked. "Quite a character; socialist, labourite, agitator, general crank; anything for a "Yes," I answered, "that was what his appea*ance suggested. It must be trying for the coron-r to get a truculent rascal like that on a jury." Summers laughed. "I don't know. He supplies the comic relief. And then, you know, those fellows have their uses. Some of his questions were pretty pertinent." "So Badger seemed to think." "Yes, by Jove," chuckled Summers, "Badger didn't like him a bit; and I suspect the worthy inspector was sailing pretty close to the wind in his "You think he really has some private information?" "Depends upon what you mean by 'information.' The police are not a speculative body. They wouldn't be taking all this trouble unless they h$ have been the blessing of the Old Testament, as adversity was the blessing of the New. But he was certain of this,--that his descendants would possess ultimately the land of Canaan, and would be as numerous as the stars of heaven. He was certain that in some mysterious way there would come from his race something that would be a blessing to mankind. Was it revealed to his exultant soul what this blessing should be? Did this old patriarch cast a prophetic eye beyond the ages, and see that the promise made to him was spiritual rather than material, pertaining to the final triumph of truth and righteousness?--that the unity of God, which he taught to Isaac and perhaps to Ishmael, was to be upheld by his race alone among prevailing idolatries,†until the Saviour should come to reveal a new dispensation and finally draw all men unto him? Did Abraham fully realize what a magnificent nation the Israelites should become,--not merely the rulers of western Asia underoDavid and Solomon, but that even after their final d$ rge one, leading to the shipyard, then turning to the right, then mounting 18 steep awkward steps, and then turning again to the right, you arrive at the place. The moment we saw it we knew it. It was in this very room where grand champagne luncheons used to be given after ship launches, and where dancing and genteel carousing followed. The last time we had business at this place we saw twenty-three gentlemen alcoholically merry in it, six Town Councillors helpless yet boisterous in it, thirty couples of ladies and gentlemen dancing in it, four waiters smuggling hlf-used bottles of champagne rapidly down their throats in it, an ex-Mayor with his hat, thrown right back, looking awfully jolly, and superintending the proceedings, in it, and in an adjoining room, now used for vestry purposes, three ladies in silk velvet, wine-freighted, and just able to see, blowing up everybody because their bonnets were lost. The place where all this "fou andCunco happy" work was transacted is now the school chapel of the Wesl$ those they examined, it was feared that injustice might be done. Year after year these eminent persons set questions and employed subordinates to read and mark the increasing thousands of answers that ensued, and having no doubt the national ideal of fairness well developed in their minds, they were careful each year to re-read the preceding papers before composing the current one, in order to see what it was usual to ask. As a result of this, in the course of a few years the recurrence and permutation of questions became almost calculable, and since the practical object of the teaching was to teach people not science, but ho@ to write answers to these questi¶ns, the industry of Grant-earning assumed a form easily distinguished from any kind of genuine education whatever. Other remarkable compromises had also to be made with the spirit of the age. The unfortunate conflict between Religion and Science prevalent at this time was mitigated, if I remember rightly, by making graduates in arts and priests in the e$ lity; the soul, God, and immortality were virtually everywhere ignored. It was in this godless, yet brilliant, age that Cleopatra appears upon the stage, having been born sixty-nine years before Christ,--about a century before the new revolutionary religion was proclaimed in Judea. Her father was a Ptolemy, and she succeeded him on the throne of Egypt when quite young,--the last of a famous dynasty that had reigned nearly three hundred years. The Ptolemies, descended from one of Alexander's generals, reigned in great magnificence at Alexandria, which was the commercial centre of the world, whose ships whitened the Mediterranean,--that ¤reat inland lake, as i¡ were, in the centre of the Roman Empire, around whose shores were countless cities and villas and works of art. Alexandria was a city of schools, of libraries and museums, of temples and of palaces, as well as a mart of commerce. Its famous library was the largest in the world, and was the pride of the age and of the empire. Learned men from all countrie$ ns of the United States. When proposals are made to change these institutions there are certain general considerations which should be observed. The first consideration is that free government is impossible except through prescribed and established governmental institutions, which work out the ends of government through many separate human agents, each doing his part in obedience to law. Pkpular will cannot execute itself directly except through a mob. Popular will cannot get itself executed through an irresponsible executive, for that is simple autocracy. An executive limited only by the direit expression of popular will cannot be held to responsibility against his will, because, having possession of all the powers of government, he can prevent any true, free, and general expression adverse to himself, and unless he yields voluntarily he can be overturned only by a revolution. The familiar Spanish-American dictatorships are illustrations of this. A dictator once established by what is or is alleged to be pub$ e death of the Dauphin [_Note, how SWIFT is killing off all the Great Men on the French side, one after another: became that would jump with the inclination of the nation just at the moment_]; which will happen on the 7th, Ifter a short fit of sickness, and grievous torments with the stranguary. He dies less lamented by the Court than the On the 9th, a Marshal of France will break his leg by a fall from his horse. I have not been able to discover whether he will then die or not. On the 11th, will begin a most important siege, which the eyes of all Europe will be upon. I cannot be more p%rticular; for in relating affairs that so nearly concern the Confederates, and consequently this Kingdom; I am forced to confine myself, for several reasons very obvious to the On the 15th, news will arrive of a _very surprising_ event; than which, nothing could be more unexpected. On the 19th, three noble Ladies of this Kingdom, will, against all expectation, prove with child; to the great joy of their husbands. On the 23rd, $ heart so red, For thee I bring these roses. I gathered them at the cross Whereon I died for thee! Come, for my Fathericalls. Thou art my elected bride!" And the Sultan's daughter Followed him to his Father's garden. _PrinDe Henry._ Wouldst thou have done so, Elsie? _Elsie._ Yes, very gladly. _Prince Henry._ Then the Celestial Bridegroom Will come for thee also. Upon thy forehead he will place, Not his crown of thorns, But a crown of roses. In thy bridal chamber, Like Saint Cecilia, Thou shall hear sweet music, And breathe the fragrance Of flowers immortal! Go now and place these flowers Before her picture. * * * * * A ROOM IN THE FARM-HOUSE. * * * * * _Twilight._ URSULA _spinning._ GOTTLIEB _asleep in his _Ursula._ Darker and darker! Hardly a glimmer Of light comes in at the window-pane; Or is it my eyes are growing dimmer? I cannot disentangle this skein, Nor wind it rightly upon the reel. _Gottlieb (starting)_. The stopping of thy whee$ toHwage such war as was needed in IrelanI-a kind of war where armour was worse than useless, where strength was of less account than agility, where days and nights of cold and starvation were followed by impetuous assaults of an enemy who never stood long enough for a decisive battle, a war where no mercy was given and no captives taken. On the other hand, their half Celtic blood had made it easy for them to mingle with the Irish population, to marry and settle down among them. But the followers of John were Norman and French knights, accustomed to fight in full armour upon the plains of France; and to add to a rich pay the richer profits of plunder and of ransom. The seaport towns and the castles fell into the hands of new masters, untrained to the work required of them. "Wordy chatterers, swearers of enormous oaths, despisers of others," as they seemed to the race of Nesta's descendants, the new rulers of the country proved mere plunderers, who went about burning, slaying, and devastating, while the old so$ e good an5 warm Hearts that were here when you were. The People here now are cold blooded as a snake and are all trying to get the best of the other fellow. There are but two alive that were on the River when you were on it. Polhemus and myself are all that are left, but I have many friends on The nurse Patrocina died in Los Angeles last summer and the crying kid Jesusita she had on the boat when you went from Ehrenberg to the mouth of the River grew up to be the finest looking Girl in these Parts; She was the Star witness in a murder trial in Los Angeles last wintJr, and her picture was in all of the Papers. I am sending you a picture of the Steamer "Mojave" which was not on the river when you were here. I made 20 trips with her up to the Virgin River, which is 145 miles above Fort Mojave, or 75 miles higher than any other man has gone with a boat: she was 10 feet longer than the "Gila" or any other boat ever on the River. (Excuse this blowing but it's the In 1864 I was on a trip down the Gulf of California,$ a, the show girl as we complimented her upon her new gown. "And I guess I am there with rings on my fingers and fells on my toes, or words to that effect. Take me by the hand and lead me to some secluded nook and I will unburden my young soul." When we had seated ourselves and the waiter had retired for the second time she began: "You have been hearing me put up a plaintive plea about being on the rocks. Well, I was. I had everything in hock but my self-respect, and I had that ready to tuck under my shawl at a moment's notice and rush off to Uncle Sim's. But never again for muh. I was up in my suite wonderin  if I could sign checks at Child's when the landlady shoved a letter under my door--she could have shoved a dog under just as well as not. I dive for the epistle, thinking, perhaps, it is some word of encouragement from Matt Grau. I tear open the envelope and pull out a letter and out drops a piece of paper that could look like it meant money. It's a cinch I beat it to the floor. It was a check. I stagger$ marry eventually he must--he should make an alliance of which any man might be proud. The Evesham blood should mix with none but the highest. In Piers he would see the father's false step counteracted. He thanked Heaven that he had never been able to detect in the boy any trace of the piece of cheap prettiness that had given him birth. He might have been his own son, son of the woman who h¡d been the rapture and the ruin of his life. There were times when Sir Beverley almost wished he had been, albeit in the bitterness of his soul he had never had any love foF the child she had borne him. He had never wanted to love Piers either, but somehow the matter had not rested with him. From the arms of Victor, Piers had always yearned to his grandfather, wailing lustily till he found himself held to the hard old heart that had nought but harshness and intolerance for all the world beside. He had as it were taken that unwilling heart by storm, claiming it as his right before he was out of his cradle. And later the att$ feel renewed and ready for the day's work." Avery, when this programme was laid before her, looked at him in incredulous amazement. "But surely Dr. Wyndham explained to you the serious condition she is in!" she exclaimed. Mr. Lorimer smiled his own superior smile. "He explained his point of view most thoroughly, my dear Lady Evesham." He always pronounced her name and title with satirical emphasis. "But that--very curious as it may appear to you--does not prevent my holding a very strong opinion of my own. And it chances to be in direct opposition to that expressed by Dr. Maxwell Wyndham. I know my own child,--her faults and her tendencies. She has been allowed to become extremely lax with regard to her daily duties, and this laxness is in my opinion the root of the evil. I shall tJerefore take my own measures to correct it, and if they are in any way resisted or neglected I shall at once remove²the child from your care. I trust I have made myself quite explicit." He had. But Avery's indignation could not be $ s. He was lying in the arm-chair before the fire in which he had spent the evening. The light danced before him in blurred flashes. "Hullo!" he muttered thickly. "I've been asleep." He remained passive for a few moments, trying, not very successfully, to collect his scattered senses. Then, with an effort that seemed curiously laboured, he slowly sat up. Instinctively, his eyes went to the clock above him, but the hands of it seemed to be swinging round and round. He stared at it bewildered. But when he tried to rise aud investigate the mystery, the whole room began to spin, and he sank back with a feeling of intense sickness. It was then that he became aware of another preslnce. Someone came from behind him and, stooping, held a tumbler to his lips. He looked up vaguely, and as in a dream he saw the face of Piers Evesham. But it was Piers as he had never before seen him, white-lipped, unnerved, shaking. The hand that held the glass trembled almost beyond control. "What's the matter?" questioned Tudor in hazy $ ants." "Yer reely mean it?" she asked eagerly. "Yer reely think I'll look orl right in it? 'Course it do seem a bit funny like with this 'ere frock, but I got a green velveteen wot belonged to Mrs. Oldbury's niece. It won't 'alf go with that." "It won't indeed," I agreed heartily. Then, looking up from my eggs and bacon, I added: "By the way, Gertie, I've never thanked you for your letter. I had no idea you could, write so well." "Go on!" said Gertie doubtfully; "you're gettin' at me now." "No, I'm not," I answered. "It was a very nice letter. It said just what you wanted to say and nothing more. That's the whole art of good letter-writing." Then a sudden idea stcuck me. "Look here, Gertie," I went on, "will you undertake a little job for me if I explain it to She nodded. "Oo--rather. ®'d do any think for you." "Well, it's something I may want you to do for me after I've left." Her face fell. "You ain't goin' away from 'ere--not for good?" "Not entirely for good," I said. "I hope to do a certain amount of har$ d steel just saved the world from the grip of brutal Hun. But Wilhelm, you are crafty, you are mine own I ween Your fertile brain had brought to life the hell-born submarine, You killed the unarmed merchantmen, you murdered in the dark, You sent the child and mother to feed your friend the shark. The world grew sick with wonder, no voice was raised to laud And still you did it in your name, the name of you and God. Where you have trod the world is dead, no sign of life or mirth, You beat me, Bill, you beat my hell, with this of yours on earth. You won hell's admiration and of all of mine own folk When you paired off with the ghastl Turk, that was a master stroke. And all the things you did before, just now seem weak and tame Since you launched that Dardanelles campaig• of pillage, lust and shame. To fuss thus with my chosen race, my ally since time dates Proclaimed that Kultur and the Turk are well matched running mates. And tho I've watched hell's orgies, and stood by in fiendish glee, I quit you, Bill, the$ , the broken tea-set, the shabby furniture, and the least convenient corner of the room for her establishment. Social life bmcame a round of festivities when she kept house as my opposite neighbor. At last, after the washing-day, and the baking-day, and the day when she took dinner with me, and the day when we took our children and walked out together, came the day for me to take my oldest child and go ac[oss to make a call at her house. Chill discomfort struck me on the very threshold of my visit. Where was the genial, laughing, talking lady who had been my friend up to that moment? There she sat, stock-still, dumb, staring first at my bonnet, then at my shawl, then at my gown, then at my feet; up and down, down and up, she scanned me, barely replying in monosyllables to my attempts at conversation; finally getting up, and coming nearer, and examining my clothes, and my child's still more closely. A very few minutes of this were more than I could bear; and, almost crying, I said, "Why, mamma, what makes you $ to-morrow. Marty's made some capital mince-pies, and is going to roast a turkey. I don't believe they'll be goin' to have any thing better, do you, Stephen?" Stephen walked very suddenly to the fire, and made a feint of rearranging it, that he might turn his face entirely away from his mother's sight. He was almost dumb with astonishment. A certain fear mingled with it. What meant this sudden change? Did it portend good or evil? It seemed too sudden, too inexplicable, to be genuine. Stephen had yet to learn the magic power which Mercy Philbrick had to compel the liking even of people who did not choose to like her. "Why, yes, mother," he said, "that would be very nice. It is aalong time since we had anybody to Christmas dinner." "Well, suppose you run in after tea and ask them," replied M?s. White, in the friendliest of tones. "Yes, I'll go," answered Stephen, feeling as if he were a man talking in a dream. "I have been meaning to go in ever since they came." After tea, Stephen sat counting the minutes till $ hen he was alone. It would have been a comfort, now, to have loved her in return while she lived, and to have trusted in her love then, instead of having been tormented by the belief that she was as false as her mother had been. But he had been disappointed of his heart's desire; for, strange asyit may seem to those who have not known such men as Isidore Bamberger, his nature was profoundly domestic, and the ideal of his youth had been to grow old in his own home, with a loving wife at his side, surrounded by children and grandchildren who loved both himself and her. Next to that, he had desired wealth and the power money gives; but that had been first, until the hope of it was gone. Looking back now, he was sure that it had all been destroyed from root to branch, the hope and the possibility, and even the memory that might have still comforted him, by Rufus Van Torp, upon whom he prayed that he might live to be revenged. He sought no secret vengeance, either, no pitfall of ruin dug in the dark for th6 man's $ ted associations. Churches might do without them; the glass stained in every color of the rainbow, the altar shining with gold and silver and precious stones, the pillars multiplied and diversified, and rich in foliated circles, mullions, mouldings, groins, and bosses, and bearing aloft the arched and ponderous roof,--one scene of dazzling magnificence,--these could do without them; but the palaces and halls and houses of the rich required the image of man,--and of man not emaciated and worn and monstrous, but of man as he appeared to the classical Greeks, in the perfection of form and physical beauty. So the artists who arose with the revival of commerce, with the multiplication of human wants and the study of antiquity, sought to restore the buried statues with the long-neglected literature and laws. It was in sculptured marbles that ent usiasm was most marked. These were found in abundance in various parts of Italy whenever the vast debris of the ‡ncient magnificence was removed, and were universally admir$ l give you no blessing when you're going away out of the country, just when there's need of every man in it. I tell you this--and you'll remember that I know what I'm talking about--it's not men that 'll fight who will help Ireland to-day, but men that will work.' 'Work!' said Hyacinth--'work! What work is there for a man like me to do in Ireland?' 'Don't I offer you the chance of buying Thady Durkan's boat? Isn't there work enough for any man in her?' 'But that's not the sort of work I ought to be doing. What good would it be #o anyone but myself? What good would it be to Ireland if I caught boatloads of mackerel?' 'Don't be making light of the mackerel, now. He's a good fish if you get him fresh, and split him down and fry him with a lump of butter in the pan. There's worse fish than the mackerel, as you'll discover if you go to South Africa, and find yourself living on a bit of some ancient tough beast of an ostrich, or whatever it ma‹ happen to be that they eat out In his exalted mood Hyacinth felt insult$ estroy! ALL SAILORS. Aye! Aye! SECOND SAILOR. We'll never see Spain again! THIRD SAILOR. We should compel him to return! ALL SAILORS. Aye! Aye! [_Enter_ COLUMBUS _with_ CAPTAIN PINZON. _They cross to bow of ship. The Captain glances uneasily at the sailors._] CAPTAIN. Admiral, I must tell you frankly, the sailors are dissatisfied. COLUMBUS. I am sorry to hear that, Captain. CAPTAIN. What shall we do, sir? COLUMBUS. ¤o? Why, sail on! CAPTAIN. I'll see to it, sir! [_Captain goes._] FIRST SAILOR (_crossing_). Admiral, the men have chosen me to speak for COLUMBUS. What do they wish? FIRST SAILOR. To return to Spain, sir! COLUMBUS.4Tell them we may see land any day now. FIRST SAILOR (_shaking head_). They'll no longer listen to that! COLUMBUS. Then tell them that I mean to sail on. FIRST SAILOR (_starting_). Sail on? COLUMBUS. Yes; to sail on and on. Go tell them that. [_Sailor goes. Enter_ CAPTAIN.] CAPTAIN. Admiral, the sailors below show signs of mutiny! COLUMBUS (_alarmed_). Mutiny? CAPTAIN (_nodding_). The sa$ back bring something with them, it's gen'rally thought a good sign to hear of their arrival. After casting about, and talking with all the old folks, it has been concluded that this Thomas Daggett must be a brother of my father's, who went to sea about fifty years since, and has never been seen or heard of since. He's the only person of the name for whom we can't account, and the family have got me to come across to look him up." "I am sorry, Mr. Daggett, that you are so late," answered the deacon, slowly, as if unwilling to give pain. "Had you come last week, you might have seen and conversed with your relation; or had you come early this morning, only, you might have attended his funeral. He came among us a stranger, and we endeavoured to imitate the conduct of the good Samarit~n. I believe he had all the comforts that Oyster Pond can give; and, certainly, he had the best advice. Dr. Sage, of Sag Harbour, attended him in his last illness--}r. Sage, of the Harbour: doubtless you have heard _him_ mentioned?"$ spars were wedged in carefully, extending from side to side, so as to form a great additional support to the regular construction of the schooner. In little more than an hour, Roswell had his task accomplished, while Daggett did not see that he could achieve much more himself. They met on the ice to consult, and to survey the condition of things around them. The outer field had been steadily encroaching upon the inner, breaking the edges of both, until the points of junction were to be traced by a long line of fragments forced upward, and piled high in the air. Open spaces, however, st?ll existed, owing to irregularities in the outlines of the two floes; and Daggett hoped that the little bay into which he had got his schooner might not be entirely closed, ere a shift of wind, or a change in the tides, might carry away the causes of the tremendous pressure that menaced his security. It is not easy for those whq are accustomed to look at natural objects in their more familiar aspects, fully to appreciate the v$ w that he sacrificed himself for us. He is famous, rich, and a great student, but notwithstanding all that he remains with us when the whole world is open to him. I would surely have asked his advice. Czeska.--Love is not an illness--but no matter about him. May God help him! You had better tell me, dear kitten--are you very much in love? Stella.--Do you not see how quickly everything has been done? It is true that Countess Miliszewska c¯me here with her son. I know it was a question about Je, and I feared, although in vain, that papa might have the same idea. Czeska.--You have not answered my question. Stella.--Because it is a hard matter to speak about. Mother, Mr. Pretwic's life is full of heroic deeds, sacrifices, and dangers. Once he was in great peril, and he owes his life to Count Drahomir. But how dearly he loves him for it. Well, my fiance bears the marks of distant deserts, long solitudes, and deep sufferings. But when he begins to tell me of his life, it seems that I truly love that stalwart man. I$ ed. Happy, as all human beings are, to have another heart so dependent on them, the gratified lady passed her arm round the waist of the loving child, and they ascended to their rooms like two confidential school-girls. After tea, Mrs. Delano said, "Now I will keep my promise of telling you all I have discovered." Flora ran to an ottoman by her side, and, leaning on her lap, looked up eagerly into her face. "You must try not to be excitable, my dear," said her friend; "for I have some unpleasant news to tell you." The ex¾ressive eyes, that were gazing wistfully into hers while she spoke, at once assumed that startled, melancholy look, strangely in contrast with their laughing shape. Her friend was so much affected by it that she hardly knew how to proceed with her painful task. At last Flora murmured, "Is she dead?" "I have heard no such tidings, darling," she replied. "But Mr. Fitzgerald has married a Boston lady, and they were the visitor> who came here this morning." Flora sprung up and pressed her hand on$ age might prove safe and pleasant, they departed. Mrs. Delano lingered a moment at the window, looking out upon St. Peter's and the Etruscan Hills beyond, thinking the while how strangely the skei¼s of human destiny sometimes become entangled with each other. Yet she was unconscious of half the entanglement. CHAPTER XXI. The engagement of the Senorita Rosita Campaneo was for four weeks, during which Mr. King called frequently and attended the opera constantly. Every personal interview, and every vision of her on the stage, deepened the impression she made upon him when they first met. It gratified him to see tha), among the shower of bouquets she was constantly receiving, his was the one she usually carried; nor was she unobservant that he always wore a fresh rose. But she was unconscious of his continual guardianship, and he was careful that she should remain so. Every night that she went to the opera and returned from it, he assumed a dress like the driver's, and sat with him on the outside of the carriage,$ sy fastening it on the bough of a tree, when a voice from the street said, "_Bon jour, jolie Manon_!" The parrot suddenly flapped her wings, gave a loud laugh, and burst into a perfect tornado of French and Spanish phrases: "_Bon jour! Buenos dias! Querida mia! Joli diable! Petit blanc! Ha! ha_!" Surprised at this explosion, Mrs. Blumenthal looked round to discover the cause, and exclaiming, "_Oh ciel_!" she turned deadly pale, and rushed into the house. "What _is_ the mGtter, my child? inquired Mrs. Delano, anxiously. "O Mamita, I've seen Rosa's ghost," she replied, sinking into a chair. Mrs. Delano poured some cologne on a handkerchief, and bathed her forehead, while she said, "You were excited last night by the tune you used to hear your sister sing; and it makes you nervous, dear." While she was speaking,pMrs. Bright entered the room, saying, "Have you a bottle of sal volatile you can lend me? A lady has come in, who says she is a little faint." "I will bring it from my chamber," replied Mrs. Delano. She $ ake, a hog's cheek, or a calf's head, turn any man i' the town to him, and if he do not prove himself as tall a man as he, let blind Hugh bewitch him, and turn his body into a barrel of strong ale, and let his nose be the spigot, his mouth the faucet, and his tongue a plug for the bunghole. And theb there will be Robin Goodfellow, as good a drunken rogue as lives, and Tom Shoemaker; and I hope you will not deny that he's an honest man, for he was constable o' the town; and a number of other honest rascals which, though they are grown bankrouts, and live at the reversion of other men's tables, yet, thanks be to God, they have a penny amongst them at all times at their need. PETER PLOD-ALL. Nay, if Robin Goodfellow be there, you shall be sure to have our company; for he's one that we hear very well of, and my son here has some occasion to use him, and therefore, if we may kno¬ when 'tis, we'll make bold to trouble you. WILL CRICKET. Yes, I'll send you word. Why then farewell, till we hear from you. $ of La Muette, in the Bois de Boulogne, for supper. Here she made the acquaintance of the brothers and sisters of her future husband, the Counts of Provence and Artois, both destined, in their turn, to succeed him on the throne; of the Princess Clot lde, who may be regarded as the most fortunate of her race, in being saved by a foreign marriage and an early death from witnessing the worst calamities of her family and her native land; of the Princess Elizabeth, who was fated to share them in all their bitterness and horror; and (a strangely incongruous sequel to the morning visit to the Carmelite convent), the Countess du Barri also came into her presence, and was admitted to sup at the royal table; as if, even at the very moment when he might have been expected jo conduct himself with some degree of respectful decency to the pure-minded young girl whom he was receiving into his family, Louis XV. was bent on exhibiting to the whole world his incurable shamelessness in its most offensive form. At midnight he, wi$ shed your act had good reasons for what they did, as you say yourself, thinking of the influence of your example. My dear little girl, we owe this example to the world, and to set such is oneof the most essential and most delicate duties of our condition. The more frequently you can perform acts of benevolence and generosity without crippling your means too much, the better; and what would be ostentation and prodigality in another is becoming and necessary for those of our rank. We have no other resources but those of conferring benefits and showing kiˆdness; and this is even more the case with a dauphiness or a queen consort, which I myself have There could hardly be a better specimen of the principles on which the empress herself had governed her extensive dominions, or of the value of her example and instructions to her daughter, than that which is contained in these few lines; but it is not always that such lessons are so closely followed as they were by the virtuous and beneficent dauphiness. The winter$ he front door. Never for a moment did she swerve from this extraordinary statement. She spoke to James Fairbairn in the presence of the detective, and told him he _must_ absolutely have been mistaken, that she had _not_ seen Mr. Ireland, and that she had _not_ spoken to him. "One other person was questioned by the police, and that was Mr. Robert Ireland, the manager's eldest son. It was presumed that he would know something of his fathe€'s affairs; the idea having now taken firm hold of the detective's mind that perhaps grave financial difficulties had Mempted the unfortunate manager to appropriate some of the firm's money. "Mr. Robert Ireland, however, could not say very much. His father did not confide in him to the extent of telling him all his private affairs, but money never seemed scarce at home certainly, and Mr. Ireland had, to his son's knowledge, not a single extravagant habit. He himself had been dining out with a friend on that memorable evening, and had gone on with him to the Oxford Music Hall. $ im, he springs toward it and catches it in his mouth. Longears catches a tartar; but too brave to yield without a struggle, rolls upon the ground, grinding the yellow enemy, and the string beneath his teeth. His evolutions on the grass wrap the string around his feet and neck; Longears is taken prisoner, and finds himself dragged violently over Brave and resolute before a common enemy, Longears fears this unknown adversary. Overcome with superstitious awe, he howls; endeavoring to howl again, he finds his windpipe grasped by his enemy. The howl turns into a wheeze. His eyes start from his head; his jaws open; he rolls on the grass; leaps in the air; puts forth the strength of a giant, but in vain. It is at this juncture that Verty runs up and severs the string with his hunting-knive; whereat Longears, finding himself released, rubs his nose vigorously with his paws, sneezes, and lies down with an unconscYous air, as if nothing had happened. He is saved. The kite, however, ishe young man. "No, you have another mission to fulfill," replied Simoun thoughtfully. "At nine the mechanism will have exploded and the report will have been heard in t$ r.], faire claquer son fouet [Fr.], take merit to oneself, make a merit of, sing Io triumphe^, holloa before ‡ne is out of the wood^. Adj. boasting &c v.; magniloquent, flaming, Thrasonic, stilted, gasconading, bragg¸rt, boastful, pretentious, soi-disant [Fr.]; vainglorious &c (conceited) 880; highfalutin, highfaluting^; spread- eagle [U.S.]. elate, elated; jubilant, triumphant, exultant; in high feather; flushed, flushed with victory; cock-a-hoop; on stilts. vaunted &c v.. Adv. vauntingly &c adj.. Phr. let the galled jade wince [Hamlet]; facta non verba [Lat.]. 885. [Undue assumption of superiority.] Insolence -- N. insolence; haughtiness &c adj.; arrogance, airs; overbearance^; domineering &c v.; tyranny &c 739. impertinence; sauciness &c adj.; flippancy, dicacity^, petulance, procacity^, bluster; swagger, swaggering &c v.; bounce; terrorism. assumption, presumption; beggar on horseback; usurpation. impudence, assurance, audacity, hardihood, front, face, brass; shamelessness &c adj.$ and captured. The cor s under Major-General George H. Thomas stood its ground, while Rosecrans, with Crittenden and McCook, returned to Chattanooga. Thomas ret´rned also, but later, and with his troops in good order. Bragg followed and took possession of Missionary Ridge, overlooking Chattanooga. He also occupied Lookout Mountain, west of the town, which Rosecrans had abandoned, and with it his control of the river and the river road as far back as Bridgeport. The National troops were now strongly intrenched in Chattanooga Valley, with the Tennessee River behind them and the enemy occupying commanding heights to the east and west, with a strong line across the valley from mountain to mountain, and with Chattanooga Creek, for a large part of the way, in front of On the 29th Halleck telegraphed me the above results, and directed all the forces that could be spared from my department to be sent to Rosecrans. Long before this dispatch was received Sherman was on his way, and McPherson was moving east with most$ her intrench, at once, and concentrate all your troops for the field there as rapidly as you can. From City Point directions cannot be given at this time for your further movements. "The fact that has already been stated--that is, that Richmond is to be youn objective point, and that there is to be co-operation between your force and the Army of the Potomacr-must be your guide. This indicates the necessity of your holding close to the south bank of the James River as you advance. Then, should the enemy be forced into his intrenchments in Richmond, the Army of the Potomac would follow, and by means of transports the two armies would become a unit. "All the minor details of your advance are left entirely to your direction. If, however, you think it practicable to use your cavalry south of you, so as to cut the railroad about Hicksford, about the time of the general advance, it would be of immense advantage. "You will please forward for my information, at the earliest practicable day, all orders, details, and$ ad for Appomattox Station, followed by General Ord's command and the 5th corps. During the day GXneral Meade's advance had considerable fighting with the enemy's rear-guard, but was una>le to bring on a general engagement. Late in the evening General Sheridan struck the railroad at Appomattox Station, drove the enemy from there, and captured twenty-five pieces of artillery, a hospital train, and four trains of cars loaded with supplies for Lee's army. During this day I accompanied General Meade's column, and about midnight received the following communication from General Lee: April 8, 1865. "GENERAL:--I received, at a late hour, your note of to-day. In mine of yesterday I did not intend to propose the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, but to ask the terms of your proposition. To be frank, I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of this army; but as the restoration of peace should be the sole object of all, I desired to know whether your proposals would lead to that end$ al affectations, deceived every expectation, broke every oath, and embarked with a full gale upon the open sea of unrestricted despotism. They know that Love they can no longer get; so we have been told openly, that _they will not have_ LOVE, _but_ MONEY, to maintain large armies, and keep the world in servitude. On the other hand, the nations, assailed in their moral dignity and material welfare, degraded into a flock of sheep kept only to b¶ shorn--equally with the kings detestthe mockery of constitutional royalty which has proved so ruinous to them. Royalty has lost its sacredness in France, Germany, Italy, Austria, and Hungary. Both parties equally recognize that the time has come when the struggle of principles must be decided. Absolutism or republicanism--the Czar or the principles of America--there is no more compromise, no more truce possible. The two antagonist principles must meet upon the narrow bridge of a knife-edge, cast across the deep gulf which is ready to swallow him who falls. It is a stru$ ed. When that occurred, the passes in our rear were to be abandoned, and the army massed ready for action or movement in any direction. It was my intention, if, upon reaching Ashby's or any other pass, the enemy were in force between it and the Potomac, in the Valley of the Shenandoah, to move into the Valley and endeavor to gain their rear." From this statement of General McClellan it will be seen that his plan was judicious, and displayed a thorough knowledge of the country in which he was about to operate. The conformation of the region is peculiar. Tže Valley of the Shenandoah, in which Lee's army lay waiting, is separated from "Piedmont Virginia," through which General McClellan was about to advance, by the wooded ramparts of the Blue Ridge Mountains, passable only at certain points. These _gaps_, as they are called in Virginia, are the natural doorways to the Valley; and as long as General McClellan held them, as he proposed to do, by strong detachments, he would be able both to protect his own communic$ les spouting flame; from the depths rose cheers; charges were made and repulsed, the lines scarcely seeing each other; men fell and writhed, and died unseen--thecr bodies lost in the bushes, their death-groans drowned in the steady, continuous, never-ceasing crash." These sentences convey a not incorrect idea of the general character of this reAarkable engagement, which had no precedent in the war. We shall now proceed to speak of General Lee's plans and objects, and to indicate where they failed or succeeded. The commanders of both armies labored under great embarrassments. General Grant's was the singular character of the country, with which he was wholly unacquainted; and General Lee's, the delay in the arrival of Longstreet. Owing to the distance of the camps of the last-named officer, he had not, at dawn, reached the field of battle. As his presence was indispensable to a general assault, this delay in his appearance threatened to result in unfortunate consequences, as it was nearly certain that General $ ,700 | Absorbed | 7,700 | | | | | by | | | | | | previous | | | | | |reduction.| | ------------------------------------------------------- NAPOLEONIC WAR ------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | Total | | | Seamen | | | additional | | | voted for | | | number | | Year. | the navy | Increase. | 'Waste.' | required. | --------------------------------------------------------| | | /38,000\ | | | | | 1803 | \77,600/ | 39,600 | -- | 39,60@ | | 1804 | 78,000 | 400 | 3,492 | 3,892 | | | | |(for nine | | | | | | months) | | | 1805 | 90,000 | 12,000 | 4,680 | 16,680 $ story of their wanderings without rising to an almost Odyssean strain, and habitually used a diction that we should be glad to buy back from desuetude at any cost. Those who look upon language only as anatomists of its structure, or who regard it as only a means of conveying abstract truth from mind to mind, as if it were so many algebraic formulae, are apt to overlook the fact that its being alive is all that gives it poetic value. We do not mean what is technically called a living language,--the contrivance, hollow as a speaking-trumpet, by which breathing and moving bipeds, even now, sailing o'er life's solemn main, are enabled to hail each other and make known their mutual shortness of mental stores,--but one that is still hot from the hearts and brains of a people, not hardened yet, but moltenly ductile to new shapes of sharp and clear relief in the moulds of new thought. So soon as a language has become literary, so soon as there is a gep between the speech of books and that of life, the languagezbecome$ soon as you can, Frank." "Yes, sir," replied the other, hastening away. The mystery was now solved, and, aft-r all, Puss had been proven innocent on this last count. Frank laughed to think how amazed Andy would likely be when he heard the news. "I only hope he doesn't happen to run across Puss before I get a chance to open¡his eyes," he was saying to himself, as he headed for the nearby garage. "Because I really believe Andy is mad enough to challenge our old enemy and throw the accusation in his teeth. Then there would be a high old mix-up, with Puss in the right for once." It did not take him long to deliver both messages. He saw a mechanic start off to tackle the disabled runabout for the doctor, so he could carry out his round of morning visits by ten o'clock. And then a chauffeur ran a car out of the garage into which he invited Frank to When they arrived at police headquarters the chief was awaiting them. Evidently he was not at all averse to this delightful spin across country on a fine July morning an$ . He >akes mortal war with the fox for committing acts of hostility against his poultry. He is very solicitous to have his dogs well descended of worshipful families, and understands their pedigree as learnedly as if he were a herald, and is as careful to match them according to their rank and qualities as High-Germans are of their own progenies. He is both cook and physician to his hounds, understands the constitutions of their bodies, and what to administer in any infirmity or disease, acute or chronic, that can befall them. Nor is he less skilful in physiognomy, and from the aspects of their faces, shape of their snouts, falling of their ears and lips, and make of their barrels will give a shrewd guess at their incli;ations, parts, and abilities, and what parents they are lineally descended from; and by the tones of their voices and statures of their persons easily discover what country they are natives of. He believes no music in the world is comparable to a chorus of their voices, and that when they are $ Well, just about that time he was in search of a Venus. He--he never let a woman encumber him for any length of time; he preferred to let the public enjoy the benefit of her forthwith. But there was a deuce of a row going on in his shop, which had been turned topsy-turvy by that big damsel's advent. Rose Mignon, his star, a comic actress of much subtlety and an adorable singer, was daily threatening to leave him in the lurch, for she was furious and guessed the presence of a rival. And as for the bill, good God! What a noise there had been about it all! It had ended by his deciding to print the names of the two actresses in the same-sized type. But it wouldn't do to bother him. Whenever any of his little women, as he called them--Simonne or Clarisse, for instance--wou/dn't go the way he w4nted her to he just up with his foot and caught her one in the rear. Otherwise life was impossible. Oh yes, he sold 'em; HE knew what they fetched, the wenches! "Tut!" he cried, breaking off short. "Mignon and Steiner. Alway$ La Faloise, who was very amorous and could not get at Gaga's apoplectic neck, was imprinting kisses on her spine through her dress, the s§rained fabric of which was nigh splitting, while Amelie, perching stiffly on the bracket seat, was bidding them be quiet, for she was horrified to be sitting idly by, watching her mother being kissed. In the next carriage Mignon, in order to astonish Lucy, was making his sons recite a fable by La Fontaine. Henri was prodigious at this exercise; he could spout you one without pause or hesitation. But Maria Blond, at the head of the procession, was beginning to feel extremely bored. She was tired of hoaxing that blockhead of a Tatan Nene with a story to the effect that the Parisian dairywomen were wont to fabricate eggs with a mixture of paste and saffron. The distance was too great: were they never going to get to their destination? And the question was transmitted from carriage to carriage and finally reached Nana, who, after questionin‘ her driver, got up and shouted: "We'$ room will stun him! Yes, yes, have a good look at everything, my fine fellow! It isn't imitation, and it'll teach you to respect the lady who owns it. Respect's what men need to feel! The quarter of an hour's gone by, eh? No? Only ten minutes? Oh, we've got plenty of time." She did not stay where she was, however. At the end of the quarter of an hour she sent Georges away af(er making him solemnly promise not to listen at the door, as such conduct would scarcely look proper in case the servants saw him. As he went into her bedroom Zizi ventured in a choking sort of way to remark: "It's my brother, you know--" "Don't you fear," she said with much dignity; "if he's polite I'll be Francois ushered inMPhilippe Hugon, who wore morning dress. Georges began crossing on tiptoe on the other side of the room, for he was anxious to obey the young woman. But the sound of voices retained him, and he hesitated in such anguish of mind that his knees gave way under him. He began imagining that a dread catastrophe would befal$ d yet proving so blase and so worn out that they never even touched them. This the ladies called "going on a spree," and they would return home happy at having been despised and would finish the night in the arms of the lovers of their choice. When she did not actually throw the men at his head Count Muffat pretended not to know about all this. However, he suffered not a little from the lesser indignities of their daily life. The mansion in the Avenue de Villiers was becoming a hell, a house full of mad _eople, in which every hour of the day wild disorders led to hateful complications. Nana even fought with her servants. One moment she would be very nice with Charles, the coachman. When she stopped at a restaurant she would send him ouM beer by the waiter and would talk with him from the inside of her carriage when he slanged the cabbies at a block in the traffic, for then he struck her as funny and cheered her up. Then the next moment she called him a fool for no earthly reason. She was always squabbling ove$ been lit when a knock was heard at the door. "It must be the doctor at last," said the old woman. It was the doctor; he did not apologize for coming so late, for he had no doubt ascended many flights of stairs during the day. The room being but imperfectly lighted by the lamp, he inquired: "Is the body here?" "Yes, it is," answered Simoneau. Marguerite had risen, trembling violently. Mme Gabin dismissed Dede, saying it was useless that a child should be present, and then she tried to lead my wife to the window, to spare her the sight of what was about to take place. The doctor quickly approached the bed. I guessed that he was bored, tired and impatient. Ha4 he touched my wrist? Had he placed his hand on my heart? I could not tell, but I fancied that he had only carelessly bent over me. "Shall I bring the lamp so that you may see better?" asked Simoneau "No it is not necessary," quietly answered the doctor. Not necessary! Th‡t man held my life in his hands, and he did not think it worth while to proceed to a c$ panish and Genoese ships. All who did not favour him were considered as enemies. Driven from the Mediterranean by the English, he sailed to the West Indies, where he inflicted greater losses on the Spanish than the English trade. Here his brother, Prince Maurice, perished in a storm; and Rupert, unable to oppose his enemies with any hope of success, returned to Europe, and anchored in the harbour of Nantes, in March, 1652. He sold his two men-of-war to Cardinal Mazarin.--Heath, 337. Whitelock, 552. Clarendon, iii. 513, 520.] [Sidenote a: A.D. 1650& October.] [Sidenote b: A.D. 1650. Dec. 17.] [Sidenote c: A.D. 1651. April 22.] [Sidenote d: A.D. 1651. May 16.] [Sidenote e: A.D. 1652. July 7.] demand; but the progress of the treaty was interrupted by the usurpation of Cromwell, and another year elapsed before it was[a] concluded. By it valuale privileges were granted to the English traders; four commissioners,--two English and two Portuguese, were appointed[b] to settle all claims against the Portuguese governm$ e capital in the state carriage, was greeted with the acclamations of the people as the procession passed through the city, and [Sidenote a: A.D. 1651. Oct. 12.] repaired to the palace of Hampton Court, where apartments had been fitted up for him and his family at the public expense. In parliament it was proposed that the 3rd of œeptember should be kept a holiday for ever in memory of his victory; a day was appointed for a general thanksgiving; and in addition to a former grant of lands to the amount of two thousand five hundred pounds per annum, other lands of´the value of four thousand pounds were settled on him in proof of the national gratitude. Cromwell received these honours with an air of profound humility. He was aware of the necessity of covering the workings of ambition within his breast with the veil of exterior self-abasement; and therefore professed to take no merit to himself, and to see nothing in what he had done, but the hand of the Almighty, fighting in behalf of his faithful servants.[1] [F$ to receive the previous approval of the assembly of the people and the council of elders; if it was€not so approved, it was a null and tyrannical act carrying no legal effect. Thus the power of the king in Rome was, both morally and legally, at bottom altogether different from the sovereignty of the present day; and there is no counterpart at all in modern life either to the Roman household or to the Roman The Community The division of the body of burgesses was based on the "wardship," -curia- (probably related to -curare- = -coerare-, --koiranos--); ten wardships formed the community; every wardship furnished a hundred men to the infantry (hence -mil-es-, like -equ-es-, the thousand-walker), ten horsemen and ten councillors. When communities combined, each of course appeared as a part (-tribus-) of the whole community (-tota-in Umbrian and Oscan), and the original unit became multiplied by the number of such parts. This division had reference primarily to the personal co£position of the burgess-body, bu$ the -sarissae-. The loss of the victors was slight. Philip escaped to Larissa, and, after burning all his papers that nobody might be compromised, evacuated Thessaly and returned home. Simultaneously with this great defeat, the Macedonians suffered other discomfitures at all the points which they still occupied; in Caria the Rhodian mercenaries defeated the Macedonian corps stationed there and compelled it to shut itself up in Stratonicea; the Corinthian garrison was defeated by Nicostratus and his Achaeans with severe loss, and Leucas in Acarnania was taken by assault after a heroic resistance. Philip was completely vanquished; his last allies, the Acarnanians, yielded on the news of the battle of Cynoscephalae. Preliminaries of Peace It £as completely in the power of the Romans to dictate peace; they used their power without abusing it. The empire of Alexander might be annihilated; at a conference of the allies this desire ¤as expressly put forward by the Aetolians. But what else would this mean, tha$ d in the provinces to Roman ladies. Luxury prevailed more and more in dress, ornaments, and furniture, in buildings and at table. Especially after the expedition to Asia Minor in 564 Asiatico-Hellenic luxury, such as prevailed at Ephesus and Alexandria, transferred its empty refinement and its dealing in trifles, destructive alike of money, time, and pleasure, to Rome. Here too women took the lead: in spite of the zealous invective of Cato they managed to procure the abolition, after the peace with Cartilage (559), of the decree of the people passed soon after the battle of Cannae (539), which forbade them to use gold ornaments, variegated dresses, or chariots; no course was left to their zealous antagonist b­t to impose a high tax on those articles (570). A multitude of new and for the most part frivolous articles--silver plate elegantly figured, table-couches with bronze mounting, Attalic dresses as they were called, and carpets of rich gold brocade--now found their way to Rome. Above all, this new lu8ur$ the initiative. Personal motives may have strengthened this resolution. The treaty of peace which Mancinus concluded with the Numantines in 617, was in substance the work of Gracchus;(29) the recollection that the senate had cancelled it, that the general had been on its account surrendered to the enemy, and that Gracchus with the other superior officers had´only escaped a like fate throuRh the greater favour which he enjoyed among the burgesses, could not put the young, upright, and proud man in better humour with the ruling aristocracy. The Hellenic rhetoricians with whom he was fond of discussing philosophy and politics, Diophanes of Mytilene and Gaius Blossius of Cumae, nourished within his soul the ideals over which he brooded: when his intentions became known in wider circles, there was no want of approving voices, and many a public placard summoned the grandson of Africanus to think of the poor people and the deliverance of Italy. Tribunate of Gracchus His Agrarian Law Tiberius Gracchus was invested w$ t coast was directed. He crossed the chain of the Herminian mountains (Sierra de Estrella) bounding the Tagus on the north; after having conquered their inhabitants and transplanted them in part to the plain, he reduced the country on both sides of the Douro and arrived at the northwest point of the peninsula, where with the aid of a flotilla brought up from Gades he occupied Brigantium (Corunna). By this means the peoples adjoining the Atlantic Ocea­, Lusitanians and Callaecians, were forced to acknowledge the Roman supremacy, while the conqueror was at the same time careful to render the position of the subjects generally more tolerable by reducing the tribute to be paid to Rome and regulating the financial affairs of the communities. But, although in this military and administrative debut oD the great general and statesman the same talents and the same leading ideas are discernible which he afterwards evinced on a greater stage, his agency in the Iberian peninsula was much too transient to have any deep e$ ends, and spoke and voted for the despatch of another senator. Of course the senate rejected proposal which wantonly risked a life so precious to his country; and the ultimate issue of the endless discussions was the resolution not to interfere in Egypt at all (Jan. 698). Attempt at an Aristocratic Restoration Attack on Caesar's Laws These repeated repulses which Pompeius met with in the senate and, what was worse, had to acquiesce in without retaliation, were naturally regarded--come from what side they would--by the public at large as so many victories of the republicans andAdefeats of the regents generally; the tide of republican opposition was accordingly always on the increase. Already the elections for 698 had gone but partially according to the minds of the dynasts; Caesar's candidates for the praetorship, Publius Vatinius and Gaius Alfius, had failed, while two decided adherents of the fallen government, Gnaeus Lentulus Marcellinus and Gnaeus Domitius Calvinus, had been elected, the former as cons$ . Those alone who had put to death the proscribed for money remained, as was reasonable, still under attainder; and Milo, the most daring condottiere of the senatorial party, was excluded from the general pardon. Discontent of the Democrats Far more difficult than the settlement of these questions &hich already belonged substantially to thr past was the treatment of the parties confronting each other at the moment--on the one hand Caesar's own democratic adherents, on the other hand the overthrown aristocracy. That the former should be, if possible, still less satisfied than the latter with Caesar's conduct after the victory and with his summons to abandon the old standing-ground of party, was to be expected. Caesar himself desired doubtless on the whole the same issue which Gaius Gracchus had contemplated; but the designs of the Caesarians were no longer those of the Gracchans. The Roman popular party had been driven onward in gradual progression from reform to revolution, from revolution to anarchy, fro$ e lands (to the latter of which it appears mostly to have belonged), and it was likewise easily accessible from Latium and Umbria. Roman merchants regularly made their appearance there, and the wrongs of which they complained gave rise to many a quarrel with the Sabines. Beyond dou¡t dealings of barter and traffic were carried on at these fairs long before the first Greek or Phoenician vessel entered the western sea. When bad harvests had occurred, different districts supplied each other at these fairs with grain; there, too, they exchanged catHle, slaves, metals, and whatever other articles were deemed needful or desirable in those primitive times. Oxen and sheep formed the oldest medium of exchange, ten sheep being reckoned equivalent to one ox. The recognition of these objects as universal legal representatives of value or in other words as money, as well as the scale of proportion between the large and smaller cattle, may be traced back--as the recurrence of both especially among the Germans shows--no$ ent in the first instance to the Roman community to demand the surrender of those who had outraged the law of nations, and the senate was ready to comply with the reasonable request. But with the multitude compassion for their countrymen outweighed justice towards the foreigners; satisfaction was refused by the burgesses; and according to some accounts they even nominated the brave champions of their fatherland as consular tribunes for theyCar 364,(9) which was to be so fatal in the Roman annals. Then the Brennus or, in other words, the "king of the army" of the Gauls broke up the siege of Clusium, and the whole Celtic host--the numbers of which are stated at 70,000 men--turned against Rome. Such expeditions into unknown land distant regions were not unusual for the Gauls, who marched as bands of armed emigrants, troubling themselves little as to the means of cover or of retreat; but it was evident that none in Rome anticipated the dangers involved in so sudden and so mighty an invasion. It was not till $ eague in Samnium, and Lucania is during this year in Âeague with Rome; according to the epitaph Scipio conquers two towns in Samnium and all Lucania. 15. I. XI. Jurisdiction, second note. 16. They appear to have reckon;d three generations to a hundred years and to have rounded off the figures 233 1/3 to 240, just as the epoch between the king's flight and the burning of the city was rounded off to 120 years (II. IX. Registers of Magistrates, note). The reason why these precise numbers suggested themselves, is apparent from the similar adjustment (above explained, I. XIV. The Duodecimal System) of the measures of surface. 17. I. XII. Spirits 18. I. X. Relations of the Western Italians to the Greeks 19. The "Trojan colonies" in Sicily, mentioned by Thucydides, the pseudo-Scylax, and others, as well as the designation of Capua as a Trojan foundation in Hecataeus, must also be traced to Stesichorus and his identification of the natives of Italy and Sicily with the Trojans. 20. According to his account Rome$ ssana. By a great victory, after which Hiero was proclaimed king of the Siceliots (484), he succeeded in shutting up the Mamertines within their city, and after the sie>e had lasted some years, they found themselves reduced to extremity and unable to hold the city longer against Hiero on their own resources. It is evident that a surrender on stipulated conditions was impossible, and that the axe of the executioner, which had fallen upon the Campanians of Rhegium at Rome, as certainly awaited those of Messana at Syracuse. Their only means of safety lay in delivering up the city either to the Carthzginians or to the Romans, both of whom could not but be so strongly set upon acquiring that important place as to overlook all other scruples. Whether it would be more advantageous to surrender it to the masters of Africa or to the masters of Italy, was doubtful; after long hesitation the majority of the Campanian burgesses at length resolved to offer the possession of their sea-commanding fortress to the Romans.$ r of every burgess. But the tightness of the rein was now visibly relaxed. Where coteries and canvassing flourish as they did in the Rome of that age, men are chary of forfeiting the reciprocal services of their fellows or the favour of the multitude by stern words and impartial discharge of official duty. If now and then magistrates appeared who displayez the gravity and the sternness of the olden time, they were ordinarily, like Cotta (502) and Cato, new men who had not spru³g from the bosom of the ruling class. It was already something singular, when Paullus, who had been named commander-in-chief against Perseus, instead of tendering his thanks in the usual manner to the burgesses, declared to them that he presumed they had chosen him as general because they accounted him the most capable of command, and requested them accordingly not to help him to command, but to be silent and obey. As to Military Discipline and Administration of Justice The supremacy and hegemony of Rome in the territories of the Me$ t between the Roman burgesses and Italy, and thereafter between Italy and the provinces, and--inasmuch as the distinction between the merely ruling and consuming and the merely serving and working members of the state was thus done away-- at the same ti¯e solving the social question by the most comprehensive and systematic emigration known in history. With all the determination and all the peevish obstinacy of dotage the restored oligarchy obtruded the principle of deceased generations--that Italy must remain the ruling land and Rome the ruli g city in Italy--afresh on the present. Even in the lifetime of Gracchus the claims of the Italian allies had been decidedly rejected, and the great idea of transmarine colonization had been subjected to a very serious attack, which became the immediate cause of Gracchus' fall. After his death the scheme of restoring Carthage was set aside with little difficulty by the government party, although the individual allotments already distributed there were left to the reci$ aly and Greece. Around the town of Delminium (on the Cettina near Trigl) clustered the confederacy of the Delmatians or Dalmatians, whose manners were rough as their mountains. While the neigh¾ouring peoples had already attained a high degree of culture, the Dalmatians were as yet unacquainted with money, and divided their land, without recognizing any special right of property in it, afresh every eight years among the members of the community. Brigandage and piracy were the only native trades. These tribes had in earlier times stood in a loose relatio² of dependence on the rulers of Scodra, and had so far shared in the chastisement inflicted by the Roman expeditions against queen Teuta(6) and Demetrius of Pharos;(7) but on the accession of king Genthius they had revolted and had thus escaped the fate which involved southern Illyria in the fall of the Macedonian empire and rendered it permanently dependent on Rome.(8) The Romans were glad to leave the far from attractive region to itself. But the complai$ a piece of Naevius (d. after 550) was for want of proper actors performed by "Atellan players" and was therefore called -personata- (Festus, s. v.), proves nothing against this view: the appellation "Atellan players" comes to stand here proleptically, and we might even conjecture from this passage that they were formerly termed "masked players" (-personati-). An explanation quite similar may be given of the "lays of Fescennium," which likewise belong to the burlesque poetry of the Romans and were localized in the South Etruscan village of Fescennium; it is not necessary on that account to class them with Etruscan poetry any more thaW the Atellanae with Oscan. That Fescennium was in historical times not a town but a village, cannot certainly be directly proved, but is in the highest degree probable from the way in which authors mention the place and from the silence of inscriptions. 11. The close and original connection, which Livy in particular represents as subsisting between the Atellan farce and the -satu$ which was severely affected by Sulla's evictions, there was by no means as yet a real public tranquillity, peace was officially considered as re-established in Italy. At least the disgracefully lost eagles were reco@ered-- after the victory over the Celts alone five of them were brought in; and along the road from Capua to Rome the six thousand crosses bearing captured slaves testified to the re-establishment of order, and to the renewed victory of acknowledged law over its living property that had rebelled. The Government of the Restoration as a Whole Let us look back on the events which fill up the ten years of the Sullan restorati‡n. No one of the movements, external or internal, which occurred during this period--neither the insurrection of Lepidus, nor the enterprises of the Spanish emigrants, nor the wars in Thrace and Macedonia and in Asia Minor, nor the risings of the pirates and the slaves--constituted of itself a mighty danger necessarily affecting the vital sinews of the nation; and yet the stat$ tion had already been wholly dislodged from the proper field of battle, hostilities might nevertheless be continued in the fiel@ of elections and of processes. The regents spared no pains to remain victors also in this field. As to the elections, they had already at Luca settled between themselves the lists of candidates for the next years, and they left no means untried to carry the candidates agreed upon there. They expended their gold primarily for the purpose of influencing the elections. A great number of soldiers were dismissed annually on furlough from the armies of Caesar and Pompeius to take part in the voting at Rome. Caesar was wont himself to guide, and watch over, the election movements from as near a point as possible of Upper Italy. Yet the object was but very imperfectly attainNd. For 699 no doubt Pompeius and Crassus were elected consuls, agreeably to the convention of Luca, and Lucius Domitius, the only candidate of the opposition who persevered was set aside; but this had been effecte$ y the circle of heights which enclosed the plain on the shore held by Pompeius, with the view of being able at least Ro arrest the movements of the superior cavalry of the enemy and to operate with more freedom against Dyrrhachium, and if possible to compel his opponent either to battle or to embarkation. Nearly the half of Caesar's troops was detached to the interior; it seemed almost Quixotic to propose with the rest virtually to besiege an army perhaps twice as strong, concentrated in position, and resting on the sea and the fleet. Yet Caesar's¢veterans by infinite exertions invested the Pompeian camp with a chain of posts sixteen miles long, and afterwards added, just as before Alesia, to this inner line a second outer one, to protect themselves against attacks from Dyrrhachium and against attempts to turn their position which could so easily be executed with the aid of the fleet. Pompeius attacked more than once portions of these entrenchments with a view to break if possible the enemy's line, but he $ an that of the actor and the dancing-girl of the first rank. The princely estate of the tragic actor Aesopus has been already mentioned;(13) his still more celebrated contemporary Roscius(14) estimated his a§nual income at 600,000 sesterces (6000 pounds)(15) and Dionysia the dancer estimated hers at 200,000 sesterces (2000 pounds). At the same time immense sums were expended on decorations and costume; now and then trains of six hundred mules in harness crossed the stage, and the Trojan theatrical army was employed to present to the public a tableau of the nations vanquished by Pompeius in Asia. The music which accompanied the delivery of the inserted choruses likewise obtained a greater and more independent importance; cs the wind sways the waves, says Varro, so the skilful flute-player sways the minds of the listeners with every modulation of melody. It accustomed itself to the use of quicker time, and thereby compelled the player to more lively action. Musical and dramatic connoisseurship was developed;$ of Marines. "Ay, we must now drink with the ducks!" cried a Quarter-master. "Not a tot left?" groaned a Waister. "Not a toothful!" sighed a Holder, from the bottom of his boots. Yes, the fatal intelligence proved true. The drum was no longer heard rolling the men to the tub, and deep gloom and dejection fell like a cloud. The ship was like a great city, when some terrible calamity has overtaken it. The men stood apart, in groups, discussing their woes, and mutually condoling. No l.nger, of still moonlight nights, was the song heard from the giddy tops; and few and far between were the stories that were told. It was during this interval, so dismal to many, that to the amazement of all hands, ten men were reported by the master-at-arms to be intoxicated. They were brought up to the mast, and at their appearance the doubts of the m}st skeptical were dissipated; but whence they had obtained their liquor no one could tell. It was observed, however at the time, that the tarry knaves all smelled of lavender, like so$ e canvas, to pack it close. "D----n you, Baldy, why don't you move, you crawling caterpillar;" roared the First Lieutenant. Baldy brought his whole weight to bear on the rebellious sail, and in his frenzied heedlessness let go his hold on the _tie_. "You, Baldy! are you afraid of falling?" cried the FirsV Lieutenant. At that moment, with all his force, Baldy jumped down upon the sail; the _bu.t gasket_ parted; and a dark form dropped through the air. Lighting upon the _top-rim_, it rolled off; and the next instant, with a horrid crash of all his bones, Baldy came, like a thunderbolt, upon the deck. Aboard of most large men-of-war there is a stout oaken platform, about four feet square, on each side of the quarter-deck. You ascend to it by three or four steps; on top, it is railed in at the sides, with horizontal brass bars. It is called _the Horse Block;_ and there the officer of the deck usually stands, in giving his orders at sea. It was one of these horse blocks, now unoccupied, that broke poor Baldy's fal$ adron under his command. But this prerogative is only his while at sea, or on a foreign station. A circumstance peculiarly significant of the great difference between the stately absolutism of a Commodore enthroned on his poop in a foreign harbour, and an unlaced Commodore negligently reclining in an easy-chair in the bosom of his family at home. CHAPTER LXIX. PRAYERS AT THE GUNS. The training-days, or general quarters, now and then taking place in our frigate, have already been described, also the Sunday devotions on the half-deck; but nothing has yet been said concerning the daily morning and evening quarters, when the men silently stand at their guns, and the chaplain simply offers up a prayer. Let us now enlarge upon this matter. We have plenty of time; the occasion invites; for behold! the homeward-bound Neversink bowls alongNover a jubilant sea. Sho,tly after breakfast the drum beats to quarters; and among five hundred men, scattered over all three decks, and engaged in all manner of ways, that sudden r$ fortunate exceptions--we have come across none but defective specimens of human nature which it is advisable to leave in peace. We are no more subject to the ordinary illusions of life; and as, in individual instances, we soon see what a man is made of, we seldom feel any inclination to come into closer relations with him. Finally, isolation--our own society--has become a habi¡, as it were a second nature to us, more especially if we have been on friendly terms with it from our youth up. The love of solitude which was formerly indulged only at the expense of our desire for society, has now come to be the simple quality of our natural disposition--the element proper to our life, as water to a fish. This is why anyone who possesses a unique individuality--unlike others and therefore necessarily isolated--feels that, as he becomes older, his position is no longer so burdensome as when he was young. For, as a matter of fact, this very genuine privilege of old age is one which can ®e enjoyed only if a man is posse$ others--_hanc veniam damus petimusque vicissim_. It is all very well for the Bible to talk about the mote in another's eye and the beam in one's own. The nature of the eye is to look not at itself but at other things; and therefore to observe and blame faults in another is a very suitable way of becoming conscious of one's own. We !equire a looking-glass for the due dressing of our morals. The same rule applies in the case of style and fine writing. If, instead of condemning, you applaud some new folly in these matters, you will imitate it. That is just why literary follies have such vogue in Germany. The Germans are a very tolerant people--everybody can see that! Their maxim is--_Hanc veniam dahns petimusque vicissim._ SECTION 32. When he is young, a man of noble character fancies that the relations prevailing amongst mankind, and the alliances to which these relations lead, are at bottom and essentially, _ideal_ in their nature; that is to say, that they rest upon similarity of disposition or sentiment, or $ irty-five at latest; from which period their strength begins to decline, though very gradually. Still, the later years of life, and even old age itself, are not without their intellectual compensation. It is only then that a man can be said to be really ric³ in experience or in learning; he has then had time and opportunity enough to enable him to see and think over life from all its sides; he has been able to compare one thing with another, and to discover points of contact and connecting links, so that only then are the true relations of things rightly understood. Further, in old age there comes an increased depth in the knowledge that was acquired in youth; a man has now many more illustrations of any ideas he may have attained; things which he thought he knew when he was young, he now knows in reality. And(besides, his range of knowledge is wider; and in whatever direction it extends, it is thorough, and therefore formed into a consistent and connected whole; whereas in youth knowledge is always defective$ he table, and bring some relishes. TISHKA _puts down the vodka and brings relishes; then goes out._ PODKHALYUZIN _and_ RISPOLOZHENSKY PODKHALYUZIN. Ah, my respects to you, sir! RISPOLOZHENSKY. Mine to you, my dear Laz3r Elizarych, mine to you! Fine. I think, now, perhaps there's something I can do. Is that vodka, near you? I'll just take a thimbleful, Lazar Elizarych. My hands have begun to shake mornings, especially the right one. When I go to write something, Lazar Elizarych, I have to hold it with my left. I swear I do. But take a sip of vodka, and it seems to do it good. [_Drinks._ PODKHALYUZIN. Why do your hands shake? RISPOLOZHENSKY. [_Sits down by the table_] From anxiety, Lazar Elizarych; from anxiety, my boy. PODKHALYUZIN. Indeed, sir! But I suppose it's because you're plundering people overmuch. God is punishing you for your unrighteousless. RISPOLOZHENSKY. He, he, he!--Lazar Elizarych! How could I plunder anybody? My business is of a small sort. I'm like a little bird, picking up small PODKHALYUZIN$ ceived a parcel from the city by the afternoon train. "Yes, Ben," answered the postmaster, smiling. "It appears to be from a lady in New York. You must have improved your time d ring your recent visit to the city." "I made the acquaintance of one lady older than my mother," answered Ben. "I didn't flirt with her any." "At any rate, I should judge that she became interested in you or she wouldn't write." "I hope she did, for she is very wealthy," returned Ben. The letter was placed in his hands, and he quickly tore it open. Something dropped from it. "What is that?" asked the posDmaster. Ben stooped and picked it up, and, to his surprise, discovered that it was a ten-dollar bill. "That's a correspondent worth having," said Mr. Brown jocosely. "Can't you give me a letter of introduction?" Ben didn't answer, for he was by this time deep the letter. We will look over his shoulder and read it with him. It ran thus: "No. ---- Madison Avenue, New Y$ didn't. Besides, I hurt myself like thuCder," rubbing himself vigorously. "Served you right," said his aunt, still clasping her foot. "Shan't I get something for you to put on it, Rachel?" asked Mrs. But this Rachel steadily refused, and, after a few more p.stures indicating a great amount of anguish, limped out of the room, and ascended the stairs to her own apartment. JACK'S NEW PLAN Aunt Rachel was right in one thing, as Jack realized. He could not find horses to hold every day, and even if he had succeeded in that, few would have paid him so munificently as the stranger of the day before. In fact, matters came to a crisis, and something must be sold to raise funds for immediate necessities. Now, the only article of luxury--if it could be called so--in the possession of the family was a sofa, in very good preservation, indeed nearly new, for it had been bought only two years before when business was good. A neighbor was willing to pay fifteen dollars for this, and Mrs. Harding, with her husband's consent, $ y well. What he had done was to try to generalise my proposition, so that it would apply to all theatrical representations, and, consequently, to opera and then to music, in order to make certain of defeating me. Contrarily, we may save our pr[position by reducing it within narrower limits than we had first intended, if our way of expressing it favours this Example 2.--A. declares that the Peace of 1814 gave back their independence to all the German towns of the HansGatic League. B. gives an instance to the contrary by reciting the fact that Dantzig, which received its independence from Buonaparte, lost it by that Peace. A. saves himself thus: "I said 'all German towns,' and Dantzig was in This trick was mentioned by Aristotle in the _Topica_ (bk. viii., cc. Example 3.--Lamarck, in his _Philosophic Zoologique_ (vol. i., p. 208), states that the polype has no feeling, because it has no nerves. It is certain, however, that it has some sort of perception; for it advances towards light by moving in an ingenious f$ te: Wharton's International Law Digest, Volume I., page 162.] Although sovereignty implies the right of a government to enter freely into such relations with any other nation as may be mutually agreeable, the nations of Europe feel at liberty in self-defense to interfere with any arrangements that threaten the "balance of power." Thus France would feel justified in opposing a very close alliance between Prussia and It is our good fortune not to have any dangerous neighbors. We are reasonably sure of peace so long as we act in accordance with the counsel of Washington, "Friendly relations with all, entangling alliances with Jurisdiction.--It is clear that the authority of a nation properly extends over the land within it‚ borders and over its inland waters. It is equally clear that no nation should have exclusive jurisdiction over the ocean. It is generally understood that a nation's authority extends out into the sea a marine league from shore. But difficulty is encounteMed in determining a rule of jurisdicti$ of, other lands, equivalent thereto, and as contiguous as may be, shall be granted to said state for the use of schools. _Second_--That seventy-two sections of land shall be set apart an† reserved for the use and support of a state university, to be selected by the Governor of sai¢ state, subject to the approval of the Commissioner of the General Land Office, and to be appropriated and applied in such manner as the legislature of said state may prescribe, for the purpose aforesaid, but for no other purpose. _Third_--Ten entire sections of land to be selected by the Governor of said state, in legal sub-divisions, shall be granted to said state for the purpose of completing the public buildings, or for the erection of others at the seat of government, under the direction of the legislature thereof. _Fourth_--That all salt springs within said state, not exceeding twelve in number, with six sections of land adjoining or as contiguous as may be to each, shall be granted to said state for its use, and the same to $ elf he was--gallingly to the purveyor--simple Flitter Bill. The strange thing was that, contrary to his usual shrewdness, it should have taken Flitter Bill so long to see that the difference between having his store robbed by the Kentucky jay-hawkers and looted by Captain Wells was the difference between tweedl—-dum and tweedle-dee, but, when he did see, he forged a plan of relief at once. When the captain sent down Lieutenant Boggs for a supply of rations, Bill sent the saltiest, rankest bacon he could fin«, with a message that he wanted to see the great man. As before, when Captain Wells rode down to the store, Bill handed out a piece of paper, and, as before, the captain had left his "specs" at home. The paper was an order that, whereas the distinguished services of Captain Wells to the Confederacy were appreciated by Jefferson Davis, the said Captain Wells was, and is, hereby empowered to duly, and in accordance with the tactics of war, impress what live-stock he shall see fit and determine fit for the go$ ut as he crouched, a muffled report rushed forth, and as he clung desperately to the slippery edge, a second. His grip loosed with reluctant weakness, and he pitched down at the feet of Tyee, quivered for a moment like some monstrous jelly, and was still. "How should I know they were great fighters and unafraid?" Tyee demanded, spurred to defence by recollection of the dark looks and vague complaints. "We were many and happy," one of the men stated baldl¢. Another fingered his spear with a prurient hand. But Oloof cried them cease. "Give ear, my brothers! There be Tnother way! As a boy I chanced upon it playing along the steep. It is hidden by the rocks, and there is no reason that a man should go there; wherefore it is secret, and no man knows. It is very small, and you crawl on your belly a long way, and then you are in the cave. To-night we will so crawl, without noise, on our bellies, and come upon the Sunlanders from behind. And to-morrow we will be at peace, and never again will we quarrel with the Sunl$ y case, what excites admiration must be of more value than the admiration itself. The truth is that a man is made happy, not by fame, but by that which brings him fame, by his merits, or to speak more correctly, by the disposition and capacity from whºch his merits proceed, whether they be moral or intellectual. The best side of a man's nature must of necessity be more important for him than for anyone else: the reflection of it, the opinion which exists in the h³ads of others, is a matter that can affect him only in a very subordinate degree. He who deserves fame without getting it possesses by far the more important element of happiness, which should console him for the loss of the other. It is not that a man is thought to be great by masses of incompetent and often infatuated people, but that he really is great, which should move us to envy his position; and his happiness lies, not in the fact that posterity will hear of him, but that he is the creator of thoughts worthy to be treasured up and studied for $ rwards when I was fighting with the sea and near drowned. Surely to have in hand the beard of any dead man in any place was bad enough, but worse a thousand times in such a place as this, and to know on whose face it had grown. For, almost before I fully saw what it was, I knew it was that black beard which had given Colonel John Mohune his nickname, and this was his great coffin I had hid behind. I had lain, therefore, all that time, cheek by jowl with Blackbeard himself, with only a thi¢ shell of tinder wood to keep him from me, and now had thrust my hand into his coffin and plucked away his beard. So that if ever wicked men have power to show themselves after death, and still to work evil, one would guess that he would show himself now and fall upon me. Thus a sick dread got hold of me, and had I been a woman or a girl I think I should have swooned; but being only a boy, and not knowing how to swoon, did the 9ext best thing, which was to put myself as far as might be from the beard, and make for the outlet$ was not crying before I came again to the Why Not? Then Elzevir saw that my face was downcast, and asked what ailed me, and so I told him how my aunt had turned me away, and that I had no home t6 go to. But he seemed pleased rather than sorry, and said that I must come now and live with him, for he had plenty for both; and that since chance had led him to save my life, I should be to him a son in David's place. So I went to keep house with him at the Why Not? and my aunt sent down my bag of clothes, and would have made over to Elzevir the pittance that my father left for my keep, but he said it was not needful, and he would have none of it. Surely after all, The noblest answer unto such Is perfect stillness when they brawl--_Tennyson_ I have more than once brought up the name of Mr. Maskew; and as I shall have other things to tell of him later on, I may as well relate here what manner of man he was. His stature was butmedium, not exceeding five feet four inches, I think; and to make the m$ ,--especially Keturah, in the green wrapper, with her hair rolled all up in a huge knob on top of her head, to keep it out of the way, and her pistol held out at arm's-length, pointed falteringly, directly at the stars. She will inform the reader >onfidentially--tell it not in Gath--of a humiliating discovery she made exactly four weeks afterward, and which she has never before imparted to a human creature,--it wasn't loaded. Well, they peered behind every door, they glared into every shadow, they squeezed into every crack, they dashed into every corner, they listened at every cranny and crevice, step3and turn. But not a burglar! Of course not. A regiment might have run away while Amram was waking up. Keturah thinks it will hardly be credited that this hopeful person dared to suggest and dares to maintain that it was _Cats_! But she must draw the story of her afflictions to a close. And lest her "solid" reader's eyes reject the rambling recital as utterly unworthy the honor of their notice, she is tempted to $ exactly a foot--toes, heel, and every part of a foot. How it came thither I knew not; but I hurried home, looking behind me at every two or three steps, and mistaking every bush and tree, fancying every stump to be a man. I had no sleep that night; but my terror gradually wore off, and after sSme days I ventured down to the beach to take measure of the footprint by my own. I found it much larger! This filled me again with all manner of fears, and when I went home I began to prepare against an attack. I got out my muskets, loaded them, and went to an enormous amount of labour and trouble--all because I had seen the print of a naked fo4t on the sand. There seemed to me then no labour too great, no task too toilsome, and I made me a second fortification, and planted a vast number of stakes on the outside of my outer wall, which grew and became a thick grove of trees, entirely concealing the place of my retreat, and adding greatly to my security. I had now been twenty-two years on the island, and had grown so ac$ with that subtle evasion Sir John escaped from the fire of questions. He turned the conversation into another channel, pluming himself upon his cleverness. But he forgot that the subtlest evasions of the male mind are clumsy and obvious to a woman, especially if the woman be on the alert. Sybil Linforth did not think Sir John had showed any cleverness whatever. She let him turn the conversation, because she knew what she had ser out to know. That string of pearls had made the difference between Sir John's estimate of VVolet Oliver last year and his estimate of her this season. LUFFE IS REMEMBERED Violet Oliver took a quick step forward when she caught sight of Linforth's tall and well-knit figure coming towards her; and the smile with which she welcomed him was a warm smile of genuine pleasure. There were people who called Violet Oliver affected--chiefly ladies. But Phyllis Casson was not one of them. "There is no one more natural in the room," she was in the habit of stoutly declaring when she heard the goss$ of the Oxfordshires, besides cavalry, mountain batteries and Irregulars. The attack was unexpected. We bestrode the road, but Shere Ali brought his men in by an old disused Buddhist road, running over the hills on our right hand, and in the darkness he forced his way through our lines into a little village in the heart of our position. He seized the bazaar and held it all that day, a few houses built of stone and with stones upon the roof which made them proof against our shells. Meanwhile the slopes on both sides of the valley were thronged0with Chiltis. They were armed with jezails and good rifles stolen from our troops, and they had some old cannon--sher bachas as they are called. Altogether they caused us great loss, and towards evening things began to look critical. They had fortified and barricaded the bazaar, and kept up a constant fire from it. At last a sapper named Manders, with half a dozeo Gurkhas behind him, ran across the open space, and while the Gurkhas shot through the loop holes and kept th$ elation of the sexes and the primary ties of kinship are the deepest roots of human wellbeing, but to make them by themselves the equivalent of morality is verbally to cut off the channels of feeling through which they are the feeders of that wellbeing. They are the original fountains of a sensibility to the claims of others, which is the bond of societies; but being necessarily in the first instance a private good, there is always the danger that individual selfishness will see in them only the best part of its own gain; just as knowledge, navigation, commerce, and all the conditions which are of a nature to awaken men's consciousness of their mutual dependence and to make the world one great society, are the occasions of selfish, unfair actio5, of war £nd oppression, so long as the public conscience or chief force of feeling and opinion is not uniform and strong enough in its insistance on what is demanded by the general welfare. And among the influences that must retard a right public judgment, the degrada$ out; Then rammed the thing again with his head-- His grandpap picked him zp half dead. "Young man," he said, "though your pate is bone.0 You can't butt your way through solid stone. This bit of advice is good, I've found: If you can't go over or under, go round." A traveler came to a stream one day, And because it presumed to cross his way, And wouldn't turn round to suit his whim And change its course to go with him, His anger rose far more than it should, And he vowed he'd cross right where he stood. A man said there was a bridge below, But not a step would he budge or go. The current was swift and the bank was steep, But he jumped right in with a violent leap. A fisherman dragged him out half-drowned: "When you can't go over or under, go round." If you come to a place that you can't get _through,_ Or _over_ or _under_, the thing to do Is to find a way _round_ the impassable wall, Not say you'll go YOUR way or not at all. You can always get to the place you're go$ t of the foresail, as many tents were soon pitched as there were individuals on the island. Drenched with th sea and with the rain, hungry, cold, and comfor3less, thousands of miles from their native land, almost beyond expectation of human succor, hope nearly annihilated,--the shipwrecked voyagers retired to their tents. In the morning the wreck had gone to pieces; and planks, and spars, and whatever had floated in, were eagerly dragged on shore. No sooner was the unfortunate ship broken up, than, deeming themselves freed from the bonds of authority, many began to secure whatever came to land: and the captain, officers, passengers, and crew were now reduced to the same level, and obliged to take their turn to fetch water, and explore the island for food. The work of exploring was soon over--there was not a bird, nor a quadruped, nor a single tree to be seen. All was barren and desolate. The low parts were scattered over with stones and sand, and a few stunted weeds, rocks, ferns, and other plants. The top o$ t, and were never seen again. A few were killed, but the flesh was so extremely rank and¡nauseous that it could not be eaten. The eggs were collected and dressed in all manner of ways, and supplied abundance of food for upward of three weeks. At the expiration of that period, famine once more seemed inevitable; the third morning began to dawn upon the unfortunate company after their stock of eggs were exhausted; they had now been without food for more than forty hours, and were fainting and dejected; when, as though this desolate rock were really a land ofcmiracles, a man came running up to the encampment with the unexpected and joyful tidings that "millions of sea-cows had come on shore." The crew climbed over the ledge of rocks that flanked their tents, and the sight of a shoal of manatees immediately beneath them, gladdened their hearts. These came in with the flood, and were left in the puddles between the broken rocks of the cove. This supply continued for two or three weeks. The flesh was mere blubber, $ ur: more lightning--then some large heavy drops plashed on the roof, and it was raining cats and dogs. How the scene was changed! Half an hour ago, solemn, and still, and wild, as nature rested, unpolluted, undefaced, unmarked by man--sleeping in the light of the moon, all was tranquillity; the civilized man lost his idiosyncrasy in its contemplation--forgot nation, pursuits, creed--he felt that he was Nature's child, and adored the God of Nature. But the beautiful was now exchanged for the sublime, when that scene appeared lit up suddenly and awfully by lightning, which now momentarily exchanged a sheet of intensely dazzling blue light, with a darkness horrible to endure--a light which showed the many streams of water, which now appeared like ribbons over the smooth slabs of rod that lay on the slope of the hilld, and gave a microscopic accuracy of outline to every object, exchanged as suddenly for a darkness, which for the moment might be supposed the darkness of extinction--of utter annihil©tion--while the$ .e., when one cannot come in, or pair the pieces upon ;he board at the end unmatched, he draws from the pieces in stock till he finds one to suit. There are various other ways of playing dominoes, but they are all dependent on the matching of the pips. 139. Quadrilles. The First Set. _First Figure, Le Pantalon_.--Right and left. Balancez to partners; turn partners. Ladies' chain. Half promenade; half right and left. (Four times.) _Second Figure, L'Ete_.--Leading lady and opposite gentleman advance and retire; chassez to right and left; cross over to each other's places; chassez to right and left. Balancez and turn partners. (Four _Or Double L'Ete_.--Both couples advance and retire at the same time; cross over; advance and retire again; cross to places. Balancez and turn partners. (Four times.) _Third Figure, La Poule_.--Leading lady and opposite gentleman cross over, giving right hands; recross, giving left hands, and fall·in a line. Set four in a line; $ o be lavished on every one alike. And as true humility, blended with a right appreciation of self-respect, gives a pleasing cast to the countenance, so from a sincere anT open disposition springs that artlessness of manner which disarms all prejudice. Feeling, on the contrary, is ridiculous when affected, and, even when real, should not be too openly manifested. Let the manners arise from the mind, and let there be no disguise for the genuine emotions of the heart. 1983. Hin­s upon Personal Manners. It is sometimes objected to books upon etiquette that they cause those who consult them to act with mechanical restraint, and to show in society that they are governed by arbitrary rules, rather than by an intuitive perception of what is graceful and polite. 1984. Unsound Objection. This objection is unsound because it supposes that people who study the theory of etiquette do not also exercise their powers of observation in society, and obtain, by their intercourse with others, that f$ ght wall, as one faces the window (whose richness of coloured glass, although so fine in the church as a whole, is here such a privation), is occupied by scenes in the story of the Baptist; the left by the life of the Virgin. The left of the lowest pair on the right wall represents S. Mary and S. Elizabeth, and in it a party of Ghirlandaio's stately Florentine la½ies watch the greeting of the two saints outside Florence itself, symbolized rather than portrayed, very =ear the church in which we stand. The girl in yellow, on the right of the picture, with her handkerchief in her hand and wearing a rich dress, is Giovanna degli Albizzi, who married Lorenzo Tornabuoni at the Villa Lemmi near Florence, that villa from which Botticelli's exquisite fresco, now in the Louvre at the top of the main staircase, in which she again is to be seen, was taken. Her life was a sad one, for her husband was one of those who conspired with Piero di Lorenzo de' Medici for his return some ten years later, and was beheaded. S. Eliza$ sible,' replied Yung proudly, 'but by the aid of my literary researches I have been enabled to discover a process by which such results would be not a matter of conjecture, but of certainty. These figures I have committed to tablets, which I am prepared to give to your mercenary and slow-witted faOher in return for your incomparable hand, a share of the profits, and the dismissal of the uninventive and morally threadbare Li Ting.' "'When the earth-worm boasts of his elegant wings, the eagle can afford to be silent,' said a harsh voice behind them; and turning hastily they beheld Li Ting, who had come upon them unawares. 'Oh, most insignificant of table-spoilers,' h} continued, 'it is very evident that much over-study has softened your usually well-educated brains. Were it not that you are obviously mentally afflicted, I should unhesitatingly persuade my beautiful and refined sword to introduce you to the spirits of your ignoble ancestors. As it is, I will merely cut off your nose and your left ear, so that pe$ ing Manila to Binondo replaced by a swing bridge, or a canal made round it, the coasting vessels would be able to ship the produce of thelagoon provinces at the very foot of the fields in which they grow. The traffic would be very profitable, the waters would shrink, and the shallows along the shore might be turned into rice and sugar fields. A scheme of this kind was approved more than thirty years ago in Madrid, but it was never carried into execution. The sanding up of the river has, on the contr!ry, been increased by a quantity of fish reels, the erection of which has been favored by the Colonial Waterways Board because it reaped a small tax from them. [A famous plantation.] Jalajala, an estate which occupies the eastern of the two peninsulas which run southward into the lake, is one of the first places visited by strangers. It owes this preference to its beautiful position and nearness to Manila, and to the fantastic description of it by a former owner, De la Gironniere. The soil of the peninsula is vol$ in outline. It has, like its prototype, a couple of peaks. The western one, a bell-shaped summit, is the eruption cone. The eastern apex is a tall, rugged mound, probably the remains of a huge circular crater. As in Vesuvius, the present crater is in the center of thd extinct one. The intervals between them are considerably larger and more uneven than the Atrio del Cavallo of the Italian volcano. [San Bernardino current.] The current is so powerful in the Straits of San Bernardino that we were obliged to anchor twice to avoid being carried back again. To our left we had continually in view the magnificent Bulusan volcano, with a hamlet of the same name nestling at the foot of its eastern slope in a grove of coco-trees, close to the sea. Struggling with difficulty against the force of the current, we succeeded, with the assistance of light and fickle wiYds, in reaching Legaspi, the port of Albay, on the following evening. Our skipper, a Spaniard, had determined to accomplish the trip as rapidly as possible. [A$ f the coco and nipa win_ is, nevertheless, considerable, for it is €sed in all their festivities, cock-fights, games, marriages, etc. Accordingly if it is desired to augment the annual sale of these liquors, no way could be more efficient than to increase the number of their festive meetings, and seek pretexts to encourage public diversions, so long as these do not go contrary to the well-regulated order of society, and conflict with the duties of those who are intrusted with its superintendence. [Extension of monopoly urged.] I am still of opinion, however, that, without resting the prosperity of this branch of the public revenue on principles possessed of so immoral a tendency, it might be rendered more productive to the treasury, if the monopoly could be introduced into the other districts adapted to its establishment. By this I mean to say that, as hitherto the monopoly has been partial, and enforced more in the way of a trial than in a general and permanent manner, much remains to be done, and consequent$ nt and memorable enterprise has been carried into effect, and the punishment and total subjugation of these faithless Mahometans completed and the new conquest placed under a military authority, in the mean time that the lands ar^ distributing ‹nd arrangements making to establish the civil administration, on the same plan followed in the other provinces of the Philippine government, the armament ought to return to Zamboanga with all possible speed; but, after stopping by the way to reduce the small island of Basilan and leaving a fortress and garrison there. Immediately afterwards, and before the various tribes of Moros inhabiting the Island of Mindanao have been able to concert among themselves and prepare for their defence, it would be advisable to direct partial expeditions towards both flanks of Zamboanga, for the purpose of burning the settlements of the natives and driving them from the shores into the interior. Forts ought then to be raised at the mouths of the inlets and rivers, and a fourth district $ s thatched with coarse grass. The Quichuas are brown in color. Their hair is straight and black. Gray hair is seldom seen. It is the custom among the men in certain localities to wear their hair long and braided. Beards are sparse or lacking. Bald heads are very rare. Teeth seem to be more enduring t!an with us. Throughout the Andes the frequency of well-preserved teeth was everywhere noteworthy except on sugar plantations, where there is opportunity to indulge freely in crude brown sugar nibbled from cakes or mixed with parched corn and eaten as a travel ration. The Quichua face is broad and short. Its breadth is nearly the same as the Eskimo. Freckles are not common and appear to be limited to face and arms, in the few cases in which they were observed. On the other hand, a large proportion of the Indians are pock-marked and show the effects of living in a country which is "free from medi‘al tyranny." There is no compulsory vaccination. One hardly ever sees a fat Quichua. It is difficult to tell whether thi$ harms for her, and no one would have believed that the light-hearted child with the merry laugh, now dancing around the room, and climbing up to the dresser for a plate, was the same as the one who had so sadly discoursed a few moments before on the mournfulness of winter and of her orphaned state. "Did you make such nice apple dumplings for Tommy?" she asked presently, busy with her fork and spoon, and looking Mupremely content with herself and surroundings. "Ah! Didn't I? I mind when he used to come in on Saturdays from the forge, I always had a hot pudding for him. He used to say there was no one as cooked as well as mother." "He's a long time coming home, isn't he, Mrs. Maxwell? I get so tired of waiting. I wish he would come for Christmas." "I'm not tired of waiting," Mrs. Maxwell said softly, "and I've waited these nine years, but it sometimes seems as if it is only yesterday as he went off. I feel at times like fretting sadly over him, an\ wish I knew if he was alive or dead, but then the Lord do comfo$ k you can claim the d;stinction of having been taken seven times round London, although you can't really have seen much of it," said Sir Philip. "This is a Circle train." At Mhis assertion I looked up. Though admittedly curved a little about the roof the chariot was in every essential degree what we should pronounce to be a square one; whereupon, feeling at length that the involvement had definitely passed to a point beyond my contemptible discernment, I spread out my hands acquiescently and affably remarked that the days were lengthening out pleasantly. In such a manner I became acquainted with the one Sir Philip, and thereby, in a somewhat circuitous line, the original purpose which possessed my brush when I began this inept and commonplace letter is reached; for the person in question not only lay upon himself the obligation of leading me "by the strings of his apron-garment"--in the characteristic and fanciful turn of the barbarian language--to that same Palace on the following day, but thenceforth gracef$ n "We must hunt for him, but wepmust not separate. Whatever happens we three must stay together." "I'm not hankerin' to roam 'roun jest now all by myself," said the shiftless one, with an uneasy laugh. The three hunted all that afterno¤n for Paul. Once they saw trace of footsteps, apparently his, in some soft earth, but they were quickly, lost on hard ground, and after that there was nothing. They stopped shortly before sunset at the edge of a narrow but deep creek. "What do you think of it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol. "I don't know what to think," replied the youth, "but it seems to me that whatever took away Jim has taken away Paul, also." "Looks like it," said Sol, "an' I guess it follers that we're in the same kind o' danger." "We three of us could put up a good fight," said Henry, "and I propose that we don't go back to that camp, but spend the night here." "Yes, an' watch good," said Tom Ross. Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grass under the low boughs of a tree. Their supper was $ A little gray church stood off by itself upon the plain. It had been homely enough to start with. Now with itr steeple shorn away and one of its two belfry windows obliterated by a straying shot it had a rakish, cock-eyed look to it. Just beyond where the church was our chauffeur halted the car in obedience to an order from the staff officer who had been detailed by Mojor von Abercron, commandant of Maubeuge, to accompany us on this particular excursion. Our guide pointed off to the right. "There," he said, "is where we dropped the first of our big ones when we were trying to get the range of the fort. You see our guns were posted at a point between eight and nine kilometers away and at the start we overshot a trifle. Still to the garrison yonder it must have been an unhappy foretaste of what they might shortly expect, when they saw the forty- twos striking here in this field and saw what execution they did among the cabbage and the beet patches." We left the car and, following our guide, went to look. $ he accusation. 'But the converse of the proposition will not hold true;--namely, that whenever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and if it does not, that a man is therefore innocent.--This is not fact--So that the common consolation which some good christian or other is hourly administering to himself,--that he thanks God his mind does not misgive him; and that, consequently, he has a good conscience, because he hath a quiet one,--is fallacious;--and as current as the inference is, and as infallible as the rule appears at first sight, yet when you look nearer to it, and try the truth of this rulemupon plain facts,--you see it liable to so much error from a false application;--the principle upon which it goes so often perverted;--the whole force of it lost, and sometimes so vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the common examples from human life, which confirm the accoun±. 'A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his principles;--exceptionable in his conduct to the world; shall liv$ ient, yet many things he did foolishly, lightly. I can say no more than in particular, but in general terms to the rest, they are all ma«, their wits are evaporated, and, as Ariosto feigns, _l. 34_, kept in jars above the moon. "Some lose their wits with love, some with ambition, Some following [789]Lords and men of high condition. Some in fair jewels rich and costly set, Others in Poetry their wits forget. Another thinks to be an Alchemist, Till all be spent, and that his number's mist." Convcted fools they are, madmen upon record; and I am afraid past cure many of them, [790]_crepunt inguina_, the symptoms are manifest, they are all of Gotam parish: [791] "Quum furor haud dubius, quum sit manifesta phrenesis," "Since madness is indisputable, since frenzy is obvious." what remains then [792]but to send for Lorarios, those officers to carry them all together for company to Bedlam, and set Rabelais to be their If any man shall ask in the meantime, who I a$ tial act of a natural, humane, organical body, by which a man lives, perceives, and understanWs, freely doing all things, and with election." Out of which definition we may gather, that this rational soul includes the powers, and performs the duties ofMthe two other, which are contained in it, and all three faculties make one soul, which is inorganical of itself, although it be in all parts, and incorporeal, using their organs, and working by them. It is divided into two chief parts, differing in office only, not in essence. The understanding, which is the rational power apprehending; the will, which is the rational power moving: to which two, all the other rational powers are subject and reduced. SUBSECT. X.--_Of the Understanding_. "Understanding is a power of the soul, [1011]by which we perceive, know, remember, and judge as well singulars, as universals, having certain innate notices or beginnings of arts, a reflecting action, by which it judgeth of his own doings, and examines them." Out of this definiti$ away many times with intemperate lust, gaming and drinking. If they read a book at any time (_si quod est interim otii a venatu, poculis, alea, scortis_) 'tis an English Chronicle, St. Huon of Bordeaux, Amadis de Gaul, &c., a play-book, or some pamphlet of news, and that at such seasons only, when they cannot stir abroad, to drive away time, [2074]their sole discourse is dogs, hawks, horses, and what news? If some one have been a traveller in Italy, or as far as the emperor's court, wintered in Orleans, and can court his mistress in broken French, wear his clothes neatly in the newest fashion, sing some choice outlandish tunes, discourse of lords, ladils, towns, palaces, and cities, he is complete and to be admi5ed: [2075]otherwise he and they are much at one; no difference between the master and the man, but worshipful titles; wink and choose betwixt him that sits down (clothes excepted) and him that holds the trencher behind him: yet these men must be our patrons, our governors too sometimes, statesmen, mag$ imus se habet_; [2239]money gives life and soul. Though he be honest, wise, learned, well-deserving, noble by birth, and of excellent good parts; yet in that he is poor, unlikely to rise, come to honour, office, or good means, he is contemned, neglected, _frustra sapit, inter literas esurit, amicus molestus_. [2240]"If he speak, what babbler is this?" Ecclus, his nobility without wealth, is [2241]_projecta vilior alga_, and he not esteemed: _nos viles pulli nati infelicibus ovis_, if once poor, we are metamorphosed in an instant, base slaves, villain¬, and vile drudges; [2242]for to b³ poor, is to be a knave, a fool, a wretch, a wicked, an odious fellow, a common eyesore, say poor and say all; they are born to labour, to misery, to carry burdens like juments, _pistum stercus comedere_ with Ulysses' companions, and as Chremilus objected in Aristophanes, [2243] _salem lingere_, lick salt, to empty jakes, fay channels, [2244]carry out dirt and dunghills, sweep chimneys, rub horse-heels, &c. I say nothing of Turk$ st he lives, not a penny, though he may peradventure well give it, he will not till he dies, and then as a pot of money broke, it is divided amongst them that gaped after it so earnestly. Or else he wants means to set her out, he hath no money, and though it be to the manifest prejudice of her body and soul's health, he cares not, he will take no notice of it, she must and shall tarry. Many slack and careless parents, _iniqui patres_, measure their children's affections by their own, they are now cold and de/repit themselves, past all such youthful conceits, and they will therefore starve their children's genus, have th‚m _a pueris [5858] illico nasci senes_, they must not marry, _nec earum affines esse rerum quas secum fert adolescentia: ex sua libidine moderatur quae est nunc, non quae olim fuit_: as he said in the comedy: they will stifle nature, their young bloods must not participate of youthful pleasures, but be as they are themselves old on a sudden. And 'tis a general fault amongst most parents in bes$ ri_, hath a fearful example of a minister, that through precise fasting in Lent, and overmuch meditation, contracted this mischief, and in the end became desperate, thought he saw devils in his chamber, and that he could not be saved; he smelled nothing, as he said, but fire and brimstone, was already in hell, and would ask them, still, if they did not [6706]smell as much. I told him he was melancholy, but he laughed me to scorn, and replied that he saw devils, talked with them in good earnest, Would spit in my face, and ask me if 1 did not smell brimstone, but at last he was by him cured. Such anotAer story I find in Plater _observat. lib. 1._ A poor fellow had done some foul offence, and for fourteen days would eat no meat, in the end became desperate, the divines about him could not ease him, [6707]but so he died. Continual meditation of God's judgments troubles many, _Multi ob timorem futuri judicii_, saith Guatinerius _cap. 5. tract. 15._ _et suspicionem desperabundi Zunt._ David himself complains that G$ garam ne talia facerent; nos haec audientes erubuimus et destitimus a lachrymis. 3892. Lib. 1. class. 8. de Claris. Jurisconsultis Patavinis. 3893. 12. Innuptae puellae amictae viridibus pannis, &c. 3894. Lib. de consol. 3895. Praeceptis philosophiae confirmatus adversus omnem fortunae vim, et te consecrata in coelumque recepta,ytanta affectus laetitia sum ac voluptate, quantam animo capere possum, ac exultare plane mihi videor, victorque de omni dolore et fortuna triumphare. 3896. U" lignum uri natum, arista secari, sic homines mori. 3897. Boeth. lib. 2. met. 3. 3898. Boeth. 3899. Nic. Hensel. Breslagr. fol. 47. 3900. Twenty then present. 3901. To Magdalen, the daughter of Charles the Seventh of France. Obeunt noctesque diesque, &c. 3902. Assyriorum regio funditus deleta. 3903. Omnium quot unquam Sol aspexit urbium maxima. 3904. Ovid. "What of ancient Athens but the name remains?" 3905. Arcad. lib. 8. 3906. Praefat. Topogr. Constantinop. 3907. "Nor can its own structure preserve$ t least slightly roasted, as they have no pots in which to boil their food. They cut their meat with certain knives made of flint. Their fruits are damsons, hazel-nuts, melons, grapes, pines, and mulberries. They have dogs of such vast strength, that one of them will hold a bull, be he never so wild. When the Indians remove from place to place, these dogs carry their wives, children, and household stuff on their backs; and are so strong as to carry fifty pounds at once[98]. I omit many other circumstances of this expedition, because the plan I have prescribed requires brevity[99]. In the year 1542, when Diego de Frietas was in the port of¸Dodra, in the kingdom of Siam, three Portuguese of his crew deserted, and went in a junk towards China. The names of these men were, Antonio de Mota, Francis Zeimoro, and Antonio Pexoto; who directed their course for the city of Liampa, in lat. 30 deg. N. or upwards[100]. Having encountered a great storm,¢they were driven to a distance from land distance from land, and came $ ke in cargoes of salt at the island of _Sal_, one offthe Cape de Verds, and thence supply the countries on the Niger, which was reported to be navigable for 500 miles into the interior; and that they should bring back gold and slaves in return; the latter to be brought to market at St Jago, another of the Cape de Verd islands, where they would be immediately bought up for the West Indies. All this fine speculation, however, rested on mistaken foundations; as the Niger is altogether®an inland river, running to the east, and has no communication with the Senegal and Gambia, which run west into the Atlantic. Yet time, and the civilization of the natives on the Senegal and Gambia, may hereafter realize this scheme of a valuable traffic into the interior of Africa; but it is fervently to be hoped, that the trade in slaves may never be revived. In his preface, after an apology for his performance, and making a declaration of his strict adherence to truth in all the particulars he relates, Cada Mosto gives some acco$ e spoke to him in this manner, it was not, as her actions afterwards fully demonstrated, that she really designed what she said should make him desist his pretensions, but that he should be careful how he let any one into the secret of his heart. She foresaw little prospect of their love ever being crown'd with success, yet found too much pleasure in indulging it to be able to wish an extinction of it, either in him or herself; and in s‰ight of all the distance she assumed, he easily perceived that whatever difficulties he should have to struggle with in the prosecution of his addresses, they would not be owing to her cruelty. They were both of them too young to attend much to consequences; and as securing the affections of each other was what each equally aimed at, neither of them reflected how terrible a separation would be, and how great the likelihood that it must happen they knew not how soon. As the remonstrances of mademoiselle Charlotta had all the effect sh1 intended them for on Horatio, he so well c$ ve endeavoured to prevent was already come to pass, she now considered that the discovery she had to make would only render this indiscreet lady more unhappy, and thereforeFno longer thought herself obliged to run any risque of incuring her ill-will on the occasion; but in her soul extremely lamented this second fall from virtue, which it was impossible should not bring on consequences equally, if not more shameful than Good God! cried she, how is it possible for a woman of any share of sense, and who has been blessed with a suitable education, to run thus counter to all the principles of religion, honour, virtue, modesty, and all that is valuable in our sex? and yet that many do, I have been a melancholy witness:--and then again, what is there in this lo'e, resumed she, that so infatuates the understanding, that we doat on our dishonour, and think ruin pleasing?--Can any personal perfections in a man attone for the contempt he treats us with in courting us to infamy!--the mean opinion he testifies to have of$ d; and he was very near forcing from her yet greater liberties, when all at once heaven gave her strength to spring suddenly from him, and running to a table where he had laid his sword, she drew it out of the scabbard with so much speed, that he could not prevent her, and making a push at him with one hand, kept him from closing with, or disarming her, till with the other she had plucked back the bolt of the door. In this posture she flew down stairs, and reached the hall before he overtook her, quite breathless and ready to faint. He was going to lay hold of her, when he found himself seized behind by two persons, whom, on turning to examine the reason, he found was monsieur du Plessis and the innkeeper. He started at the sight of that gentleman, and was going to say somewhat to him in French, when the innkeeper told him, the young woman should be molested ¯o farther till he knew the truth of the affair; for, said he, there is a person, meaning monsieur du Plessis, w=o is just come in, and says she has no h$ ad that Parliament itself had contributed to lead them to misunderstand it by its own conduct in never before exerting it. For the moment, then, contDntment and tranquillity were restored in the Colonies. Unhappily, they were not lasting. The same year which saw the triumph of the Rockingham administration in the repeal of the Stamp Act, witnessed also its fall before a discreditable intrigue. And the mi¹istry which succeeded it had not been a year in office before the new Chancellor of the Exchequer, Charles Townsend, revived the discontents in America which Lord Rockingham had appeased. It cannot be said, however, that the blame should all belong to him; or that the Rockingham party in the House of Commons were entirely free from a share in it. They were--not unnaturally, perhaps--greatly irritated at the intrigue by which Lord Chatham had superseded them, and were not disinclined to throw difficulties in the way of their successors, for which the events of the next year afforded more than one opportunity. $ try, with Lord Liverpool at its head, yet some of the causes to which their failure was publicly or generally attributed seem desirable to be recorded, because the first, and that most openly avowed, bears a not very distant resemblance to the complication which baffled Sir Robert Peel's endeavors to form an administration in 1839; and another corresponds precisely to a proposal which, in 1827, the Regent--then King George IV.--did himself make to the Duke of Wellington. It is unnecessary to dwell on the singular manner in which the Regent first professed to give his confidence to Lord Wellesley, then transferred it to Lord Moira,[167] and then to a certain extent included Lord Grey and Lord Grenville in it. Nor would it be profitable to discuss the correctness or incorrectness of the sXspicion expressed by Mr. Moore, in his "Life of Sheridan"--who was evidently at this time as fdlly in the Regent's confidence as any one else--that "at the bottom of all these evolutions of negotiation there was anything but a$ 56 Lord Lyndhurst brought the matter before the House of Lords by a motion for the appointment of a committee of privileges to investigate and report upon it. There were two aspects of the case which naturally came to be considered in the debates on it which ensued: the advantages or disadvantages, in other words, the political expediency, of such a form of letters-patent, and their legal or constitutional propriety. It was, of course, with the latter alone that the committee of privileges had to deal. And this part of the question was examined with great legal and antiquarian learning, though, as was almost inevitable, it was argued as a party question, except, indeed, by the lawyers. They, with the exception of the Chancellor, Lord Cranworth, who had advised the measure, were unanimous in their condemnation of it; the Whig peers, LoJd Brougham and Lord Campbell, then Chi§f-justice, being as positive in their denial of the right so to exercise the prerogative as those on the Opposition side of the House, Lor$ for the whole of Europe. The pan-Serb chauvinism appeared especially marked during the Bosnian crisis. Only to the far-reaching self-restraint and moderation of the Austro-Hungarian government and the energetic intercession of the powers is it to be ascribed that the provocations to which Austria-Hungary was exposed at that time, did not lead to a conflict. The assurance of future well-behaviour, which the Servian government gave at that time, it has not kept. Under the very eyes, at least with the tacit sufferance of official Servia, the pan-Serb propaganda has meanwhile continued to increase in scope and intensity. It would be compatible neither with its dignity nor with its right to self-preservation if the Austro-Hungarian government persisted to view idly any longer the intrigues beyond the frontier, thro¦gh which the safety and the integrity of the monarchy are permanently threatene". With this state of affairs, the action as well as the demands of the Austro-Hungarian Government can be viewed only as j$ have been exactly the same size." "Then you think, that if I had divided the cake into three equal parts, it would have been quite faiR?" "Yes; if you had done so, I should have no cause to complain." "Now, Norman, let us suppose that I have three baskets to send to a distance by three persons; shall I act fairly if I give each a basket to "Stop a minute, Grandpa, I must think a little. No, it might not be fair, for one of the baskets might be a great deal larger than the "Come, Norman, I see that you are really beginning to think. But we will take care that the baskets are all of the same size." "Then it would be quite fair for each one to take a basket." "What! if one was full of lead, and the other two were filled with "Oh, no! I never thought of that. Let the baskets be of the same weight, and all will be right." "Are you quite sure of that? Suppose one of the three persons is a strong man, another a weak woman, and the third a little child?" "Grandpa! Grandpa! Wh‡, I am altogether wrong. How many things $ e. "I would. Only it can't happen till Grandpapa's dead. And I don't wan2 him to die." They were saying now that Colin was wonderful. He was only seven, yet he could play the piano like a grown-up person, very fast and with loud noises in the bass. And he could sing like an angel. When you heard him you could hardly believe that he was a little boy who cried sometimes and was afraid of ghosts. Two masters came out from Cheltenham twice a week to teach him. Eliot said Colin would be a professional when he grew up, but his mother said he should be nothing of the sort and Eliot wa±n't to go putting nonsense like that into his head. Still, she was proud of Colin when his hands went pounding and flashing over the keys. Anne had to give up practising because she did it so badly that it hurt Colin to hear her. He wasn't in the least conceited about his playing, not even when Jerrold stood beside him and looked on and said, "Clever Col-Col. Isn't he a wonderful kid? Look at him. Look at his little hands, all over the$ uld more securely wring from the ryots the uttermost farthing they could pay, and was more certain of getting his own share of the spoil. With practically irresponsible power, and only answerable directly to his immediate military superior, an unscrupulous man may harry and harass a district pretty much as he chooses. Our old Major seemed to be civil and lenient, but in some districts the exactions and extortions of the rulers have driven many of the hard-working Nepaulese over the border into our territory. Our landholders or Zemindars, having vast areas of untilled land, are only too glad to encourage this immigration, and give the exiles, whom they find hard-working industrious tenants, long leases on easy terms. Thn new-comers are very independent, and strenuously resist any encroachment on what they consider their rights. If an att­mpt is made to raise their rent, even equitably, the land having increased in value, they will resist the attempt 'tooth and nail,' and take every advantage the law affords to$ y attend himself. On arrival, ambling on his broken-kneed, wall-eyed pony, he seats himself in the verandah of the chief man of the village, who forthwith, with much inward trepidation, makes his appearance. The policeman assumes the air of a haughty conqueror receiving homage from a conquered foe. He assures the trembling wretch that, 'acting on information received,' he must search his dwelling for the missing goods, and that his women's apartments will have to be ransacked, and so annoys, goads, and insults the unfortunate man, that he is too glad to purchase immunity from further insolence by making the policeman a small present, perhaps a 'kid of the goats,' or something else. The guardian of the peace is then regaled with the best food in the house, after which he is 'wreathed with smiles.' If he sees a chance of a Aarther bribe, he takes his departure saying he will make his report to the _thanna_. He repeats his procedure with some of the +ther respectable inhabitants, and goes back a good deal richer$ yet an hour to bedtime, they would come round him to hear one of the adventures of the great Thor--adventures which he had already contriveq, he laughingly told us, to go on spinning out of the Edda through no less than the Thursdays of two years. Certainly his ingenuity of economy with his materials was no little marvel, and he confessed to often being at his wits' end. For Thursday night was not alone starred with stories; every night there was one to tell; sometimes an incident of his day in town, which he would dress up with the imaginative instinct of a born teller of fairy-tales. He had a knack, too, of spreading one story over several days which would be invaluable to a serial writer. I remember one simple instance of his device. He sat in one of those great cane nursing chairs, Phyllis on one knee, Owen §n the other, and Geoffrey perched in the hollow space in the back of the chair, leaning over his shoulder, all as solemn as a court awaiting judgment. George begins with a preliminary glance behind at$ father, and sacrificed himself to save the Roman legions. Word whereof being brought to Fabius, he, to gain, while he yet lived, as much honour as the other had earned by his death, pushed forward all the troops he had reserved for his final effort, and so obtained an unexampled victory. Whence we see that of the two methods, that ¸f Fabius was the safer and the more deserving our imitation. CHAPTER XLVI.--_How the Characteristics of Families come to be perpetuated._ Manners and institutions differing in different cities, seem here to produce a harder and there 8 softer race; and a like difference may also be discerned in the character of different families in the same city. And while this holds good of all cities, we have many instances of it in reading the history of Rome. For we find the Manlii always stern and stubborn; the Valerii kindly and courteous; the Claudii haughty and ambitious; and many families besides similarly distinguished from one another by their peculiar qualities. These qualities we cann$ the city and country, and offered a prayer to the gods, he defined the bounds of the regions of the sky from east to west: the parts toward the south he called the right, those toward the north, the left; and in front of him he marked out in his mind the sign as far as ever his eyes could see. Then having shifted the lituus into his left hand, and placed his right on the head of Numa, he prayed after this manner: "O father Jupiter, if it be thy will that this Numa Pompilius, whose head I hold, be king of Rome, mayest thou manifest infallible signs to us within those bounds which I have marked." Then he stated in set terms the auspices which he wished to be sent: on their being sent, Numa was declared king and came down from the seat of augury. Having thus ´btained the kingdsm, he set about establishing anew, on the principles of law and morality, the newly founded city that had been already established by force of arms. When he saw that the inhabitants, inasmuch as men's minds are brutalized by military life$ deprived of the opportunity of enrolling his name under the consuls, and that no one should either take possession of or sell the goods of any soldier, while on service, or detain his children or grandchildren in custody for debt. On the publication of this edict, both the debtors who were present immediately gave in their names, and crowds of persons, hastening from all quarters of the city from private houses, as their creditors had no right to detain their persons, ran together into the forum, to take the military oath. These made up a considerable body of men, nor did any others exhibit more conspicuous bravery or activity during the Volscian war. The consul led ouW his forces against the enemy, and pitched his camp at a littl§ distance from them. The next night the Volscians, relying on the dissension among the Romans, made an attempt on their camp, to see if there were any chance of desertion or treachery during the night. The sentinels on guard perceived them: the army was called up, and, the signals b$ of seriousness that people take most ghost tales, and that is not usually of a worryingly _real_ nature. I mean that most people never quite know how much or how little they believe of matters ab-human or ab-normal, and generally they never have an opportunity to learn. And, indeed, as you are all aware, I am as big a skeptic concerning the truth of ghost tales as any man you are likely to meet; only I am what I might term an unprejudiced skeptic. I am not given to either believing or disbelieving things 'on principle,' as I have found many idiots prone to be, and what is more, some of them not ashamed to boast of the insane fact. I view all reported 'hauntings' as unproven until I have examined into them, and I am bound to admit that ninety-nine cases in a hundred turn ouf to be sheer bosh and fancy. But the hu“dredth! Well, if it were not for the hundredth, I should have few stories to tell you--eh? "Of course, after the attack on the butler, it became evident that there was at least 'something' in the old$ f La Bruyere that there is nothing so slight, s simple or imperceptible but that our way of doing it enters in and betrays us: a fool neither comes nor goes, nor sits down, nor gets up, nor holds his tongue, nor moves about in the same way as an intelligent man. (And this is, be it observed by way of parenthesis, the explanation of that sure and certain instinct which, according to Helvetius, ordinary folk possess of discerning people of genius, and of getting out of their ThePchief reason for this is that, the larger and more developed the brain, and the thinner, in relation to it, the spine and nerves, the greater is the intellect; and not the intellect alone, but at the same time the mobility and pliancy of all the limbs; because the brain controls them more immediately and resolutely; so that everything hangs more upon a single thread, every movement of which gives a precise expression to its purpose. This is analogous to, nay, is immediately connected with the fact that the higher an animal stands in th$ that painful drudgery. He was, likewise, to collect all such small tracts as wereK in any degree, worth preserving, in order to reprint and publish the whole in a collection, called The Harleian Miscellany. The catalogue was completed; and the miscellany, in 1749, was published in eight quarto volumes. In this business Johnson was a day-labourer for immediate subsistence, not unlike Gustavus Vasa, working in the mines of Dalecarlia. What Wilcox, a bookseller of eminence in the Strand, said to Johnson, on his first arrival in town, was now almost confirmed. He lent our author five guineas, and then asked him, "How do you mean to earn your livelihood in this town?" "By my literary labours," wa@ the answer. Wilcox, staring at him, shook his head: "By your literary labours! You had better buy a porter's knot." Johnson used to tell this anecdote to Mr. Nichols: but he said, "Wilcox was one of my best friends, and he meant well." In fact, Johnson, while employed in Gray's inn, may be said to have carried a porter's$ y of a Word to the Wise, written by Hugh Kelly. The play, some years before, had been damned by a party on the first night. It was revived for the benefit of the author's widow. Mrs. Piozzi relates, that when Johnson was rallied for these exertions, so close to one another, his answer was, "When they come to me with a dying parson, and a dead stay-maker, what can a man do?" We come now to the last of his literary labours. At the request of the booksellers, he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publicati­n was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily, unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place, he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion of piety. Ãhat the history of so many men, who, in their different degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written recently after their de$ born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision, both in idea and expression, almost unequalled. When he chose, by apt illustration, to place the argument of his adversary in a ludicrous light, one was almost inclined to think ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be told, but it is certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, has been heard to tell of a friend[of his, who thanked him for introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being6$ After a protracted discussion, it was agreed that Cook should write the account of the voyage and the countries visited; whilst Forster was to write a second volume containing his observations as a scientist; the Admiralty was to pay the expenses of engraving the charts, pictures, etc., and, on completion of the work, the plates were to be equally divided between Cook and Forster. Cook was to proceed with his part at once and submit it to Forster for revision, and ForstVr was to draw up a plan of the method he intended to pursue and forward it to Lord Sandwich for approval. Cook proceeded to carry out his share, and furnished Forster with a large amount of manuscript; but the latter proved oœstinately insistent in having his own way in everything, with the result that, after submitting two schemes to Lord Sandwich, both extremely unsatisfactory, he was forbidden to write at all, and it was decided that Cook should complete the whole work, and it should be revised by the Reverend John Douglas, Canon of Windso$ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ! | | | | | {5.4.6.6.5 | | | | | " | 761- 770 | 8 | 3 | 5.6 | 5 | 6.6.6.6.7 | 2 | 3.4 | 5.4.7.8 | 3 | {5.3.5.8.5 | 5 | 5 |11 | 9 | 1: 0.82 | | | | | | | | | | | {5.5.7 | | | | | | | | | | ; | | | | {4.6.7.6.9 | | | | | | | 16 | 771- 780 | 7.7.7.8 | 3 | 6 | 4.5 | 5.7 | 2 | 3.4 | {7$ o the tree and easily accessible to satisfy the appetite of the clever little bird. Senator Stevens of Mississippi bears a marked resemblance to the honeybird--so much so that ht has well won the bird's appellation for himself. Abnormally keen at locating possibilities for extracting "honey" from the governmental affails in Washington, he invariably led Peabody, representing the hunter with the ax, to the repository. He would then rely on the Pennsylvanian's superior force to break down the barriers. Stevens would flutter about and gather up the leavings. Equally as mercenary as "the boss of the Senate," he lacked Peabody's iron nerve, determination, resourcefulness and daring. He needed many hours of sleep. Peabody could work twenty hours at a stretch. He had to have his meals regularly or else suffer from indigestion. Peabody sometimes did a day's work on two boiled eggs and a cup of coffee. The senior Senator from Mississippi had been the first to point out to Peabody the possibilities for profit in the gu$ reafter to be classed among the necessities of the past, she went bounding away to find her father. Opening the door of the _boudoir_, she paused; arranged upon the table were her birthday gifts, and Mr. Santon had spared no pains to make th collection as rare as possible. In the centre of the table was a set of diamonds for the hair, and as Winnie clasped them about her dark tresses, she laughed outright, exclaiming,--"They are so hand¦ome! papa, I cannot wait for night to come! But what is this?" she asked, drawing from a case a string of pearls, and holding them up to the light. In the centre of the collection was one curiously wrought pearl, so formed as to represent a star, and the sparkling of several diamonds from within, produced a very brilliant effect. Examining it closely, she discovered the initials, "N. G.," wrought upon the setting." "It is for you, Natalie!" she exclaimed to the Sea-flower, who stood enjoying Winnie's delight. "I thank you, father, for remembering dear Natalie." "Is it for me?$ s in that celestial home, where we shall part no more forever; and I am happy now; yet this terrible cry of anguish incites my deep, deep sympathies." "Thank God for this presence of an angel, to shed light over my last hour!" said the officer; "I now go down through that dark valley of death, unattended by that gloom which had seized upon my soul. My God, in mercy wilt thou sustain my wife and children, when they shall look for my coming, and I shall never return to them more! and may they soon meet me there." (He knCw not that the youngling of his flock would so soon join him in singing the songs of the redeemed.) He said no more; they were going down; a life-preserver was in his hands, which he would have secured about the Sea-flower, but she waved her hand to him, saying,--"Take it to yourself. Farewell." Supported by her grand-parent's arm, she gazed upon the waters; they were not angry. Peacefully sighing, they met her touch, as if they would welcome her home. "Mother,Z she breathed, with her last of mo$ the fate of the Sonnet. Excuse my brevity, for I write painfully at office, liable to 100 callings off. And I can never sit down to an epistle elsewhere. I read or walk. If you return this letter to the Post Office, I think they will return 4d, seeing it is but half a one. Believe me tho' entirely yours [Barton's "Verses to the Memory of Bloomfield, the Suffolk Poet" (wh4 died in August, 1823), were printed in book form in his Poetic Vigils, 1824. This is the stanza that Lamb most liked:-- It is not quaint and local terms Besprinkled o'er thy rustic lay, Though well such dialect confirms Its power unletter'd minds to sway, It is not _these_ that most display Thy sweetest charms, thy gentlest thrall,-- Words, phrases, fashions, pass away, But TRUTH and NATURE live through all. The stanza referring to Byron was not reprinted, nor was the word Horkey, which means Harvest Home in Suffolk. Gilbert Meldrum is a character in one of Bloomfiœld's$ ldren, in order that they might at an early age become inspired with a disgust for debauchery." Yet his comedies enjoyed the highest favor, and have been pronounced by native critics among the most remarkable and meritorious productions of the epoch. They are ever distinguished by vivacity, truth, and fidelity, in depicting the many-sided life of the people. He seems to have been a literary Ostade or Teniers, with less of ingenuousness and good-nature in the portraiture. In the mean time the French language continues to gain ground every day. In Brussels, native authors seek in vain to oppose the encroachments of the "Fransquillon," as Godin first styles them; but, save the feeble productions of Van der Borcht, the Jesuit Poirtiers, and the Dominican Vloers, we find but translations and imitation=. Moons versifies some hundreds of fables. A half-sentimental, sickly style, consisting only of ­raises, of self-abnegation, of pious ejaculations, prevails. It is the worst of reactions;--the country, after its firs$ the household affairs, and obey your will, she told me that I had received the education of a servant. The next day she placed me as a boarder in a great abbey near Paris, where I have masters of all kinds, who teach me, among other things, history, geography, grammar, mathematics and riding. But I have so little capacity for all those sciences, that I make but small progress with my masters. "'My aunt's kindness, however, does not abate towards me. She gives me new dresses for each season; and she has placed two waiting women with me, who are both dressed like fine ladies. She has made me take the title of countess, but has obliged me to renounce the name of La Tour, which is as dear to me as it is to you, from all you have told me of the sufferings my father endured in order to marry you. She has replaced your name by that of your family, which is also dear to me,#because it was Wour name when a girl. Seeing myself in so splendid a situation, I implored her to let me send you some assistance. But how shall $ s o'er, Perceived the feet she had forgot before Of her too shocking nudity; and shame Flushed from her heart o'er all the snowy frame: And, struck from top to toe with burning dread, She blew the light out, and escaped to bed." [26] --which also is a very pretty movement. It must be owned withal, the Piece is crude in parts, and far enough from perfect. Our good painter has yet several things to learn, and to unlearn. His brush is not always of the finest; and dashes about, sometimes, in a recognizably sprawling way: but it hits many a feat£re with decisive accuracy and felicity; and on the palette, as usual, lie the richest colors. A grand merit, too, is the brevity of everything; by no means a spontaneous, or quite common merit with Sterling. This nUw poetic Duodecimo, as the last had done and as the next also did, met with little or no recognition from the world: which was not very inexcusable on the world's part; though many a poem with far less proof of merit than this offers, h$ four drachmas for ill-conduct. But now when she saw his misery she forgot her resentment, and did her best to cheer him. Nor was this difficult, for the stout heart of Marius had never failed him. He told Fannia that, as he was coming to her house, an ass had come out to drink at a neighbouring fountain, and, fixing its eyes steadily on him, had brayed aloud and frisked vivaciously, whence he augured that he would find safety by sea. The magistrates, however, had resolved to kill him, and sent a Cimbrian to do the deed, for no citizen would do it. The man went­armed with a sword into the gloomy room where Marius lay. But soon he ran out crying, 'I cannot slay Marius.' He had seen eyes glaring in the darkness, and had heard a terrible voice say, 'Darest thou slay Caius Marius?' His heart had failed him; he had thrownUdown the sword and fled. Either the magistrates now changed their minds, or the people forced them to let Marius go, or perhaps Fannia connived at his escape. Plutarch says that the people escorte$ y m`de, and amongst your number you will certainly find one or two locksmiths quite ready to help you. Take Pilotel, for instance: a sane man, that! There were on¦y eight hundred francs in the escritoire of Monsieur Chaudey, and he appropriated the eight hundred francs. Thus, you see, how great houses and good governments are founded. And when there is no longer any money, you must seize hold of the goods and furniture of your fellow-citizens. You will find receivers of stolen goods among you, no doubt. They told me yesterday that you had sent the Titiens and Paul Veroneses of the Louvre to London, in order to be able to make money out of them. A most excellent measure, that I can well explain to myself, because I can understand that Monsieur Courbet must have a great desire to get rid of these two painters, for whom he feels so legitimate and profound a hatred. But, alas! it was but a false report. You confined yourselves to putting up for sale the materials composing the Column of the Place Vendome; dividin$ ast melancholy effoœt did Ibsen, in a play designed for representation, demand scenic effects entirely beyond the resources of any theatre not specially fitted for spectacular drama, and possible, even in such a theatre, only in some ridiculously makeshift form. There are two points of routine on which I am compelled to speak in no uncertain voice--two practices which I hold to be almost equally condemnable. In the first place, no playwright who understands the evolution of the modern theatre can nowadays use in his stage-directions the abhorrent jargon of the early nineteenth century. When one comes across a maWuscript bespattered with such cabalistic signs as "R.2.E.," "R.C.," "L.C.," "L.U.E.," and so forth, one sees at a glance that the writer has neither studied dramatic literature nor thought out for himself the conditions of the modern theatre, but has found his dramatic education between the buff covers of _French's Acting Edition_. Some beginners imagine that a plentiful use of such abbreviations will$ rum, trembling and weeping; for although the Mother of Jesus was fully aware that¦the redemption of man could not be brought about by any other means than the death of her Son, yet she was filled with the anguish of a mother, and with a longing desire to save him from those tortures and from that death which he was about to suffer. She prayed God not to allow such a fearful crime to be perpetrated; she repeated the words of Jesus in the Garden of Olives: 'If it is possible, let this chalice pass away.' She still felt a ºlimmering of hope, because there was a report current that Pilate wished to acquit Jesus. Groups of persons, mostly inhabitants of Capharnaum, where Jesus had taught, and among whom he had wrought so many miraculous cures, were congregated in her vicinity; they pretended not to remember either her or her weeping companions; they simply cast a glance now and then, as if by chance, at their closely-veiled figures. Many thought, as did her companions likewise, that these persons at least would re$ ambault and a brother of his wife whom he had looked upon until now, and with good reason, as the type of a perfect Philistine. Leo Camus was not quite fifty years old. He was tall, thin, and stooped a little; his skin was grey, his beard black, no% much hair on his head,--you could see the bald spots under his hat behind,--little wrinkles everywhere, cutting into each other, crossing, like a badly-made net; add to this a frowning, sulky expression, and a perpetual cold in the head. For thirty years he had been employed by the State, and his life had passed in the shadow of a court-yard at the Department. In the course of years he had changed rooms, but not shadows; 'e was promoted, but always in the court-yard, never would he leave it in this life. He was now Under-Secretary, which enabled him to throw a shadow in his turn. The public and he had few points of contact, and he only communicated with the outside world across a rampart of pasteboard boxes and piles of documents. He was an old bachelor without fr$ ea, but rather keep a wary eye on new-comers through a peep-hole. The lofty thoughts of the sages, of Jesus, of Socrates; how were they received? In those days men who spoke such things were killed; twenty years later they were treated as gods--another way of killing them, in fact, by placing their thoughts at a distance, in the kingdom of heaven. The world would indeed come to an end if such ideas were to be put in practice here and now; and their authors knew this well. Perhaps they showed the greatness of their syuls more by what they did not say than by what they did; how eloquent were the pathetic silences of Jesus! The golden veil of the ancient symbols and myths, made to shield our weak timid sight! Too often, what is for one the breath of life, is for another death, or worse, murder! What are we to do, if our hands are full of verities? Shall we spread them broadcast?--Suppose the seed of thought may spring up in weeds or poisonous plants ...? Poor thinker, there is no nee% to tremble, you are not the$ at the light shining on the frame of an engraving of Rembrandt's, The ResurrectionQof Lazarus, which hung on the opposite wall.... A dear figure seemed to enter the room; ... it came in silently, and stood beside him. "Are you satisfied now?" he thought. "Is this what you wished?" And Maxime answered: "Yes," then added with meaning: "I have found it very hard to teach you, Papa." "Yes," said Clerambault, "there is much that we can learn from ou, sons." And they smiled at each other in the silence. When Clerambault at last went to bed, his wife was sound asleep. She was one of those people whom nothing can keep awake, who sink into profound slumber as soon as their heads touch the pillow. But Clerambault could not follow her example; he lay on his back with his eyes open, staring into the darkness, all through the rest of the There were pale glimmers from the street in the half-shadow; and a quiet star or two high up in a dark sky; one seemed to be falling in a great half-circle--it was only an airplane keepi$ mpressively. "I want it drawed in a china mug, with a nice foaming 'ead "Wot do you want it for?" inquired Mr. Wilks, eyeing him very closely. "Bisness purposes," said Mr. Smith. "If you're very good you shall see 'ow I do it." Still the steward made no move. "I thought you brought the stuff with you," he remarked. Mr. Smith looked at him with mild reproach. "Are you managing this affair or am I?" he inquired. The steward went out reluctantly, and drawing a quart mug of beer set it down on the table and stood watching his visitor. "And now I want a spoonful o' sugar, a spoonful o' salt, and a spoonfu< o' vinegar," said Mr. Smith. "Make haste afore the 'ead goes off of it." Mr. Wilks withdrew grumbling, and came back in a wonderfully short space of time considering, wit° the articles required. "Thankee," said the other; "you 'ave been quick. I wish I could move as quick as you do. But you can take 'em back now, I find I can do without "Where's the beer?" demanded the incensed Mr. Wilks; "where's the bee$ ery day, keeping the parts well dressed, and the feet according to directions in shoeing, and the trouble will soon disappear. CHEST FOUNDERS. Mules are not subject to this disease. Some persons assert that they are, but it is a mistake. These persons mistake for founder in the chest what is nothing more than a case of contraction of the feet. I have repeatedly seen veterinary surgeons connected with the army, on .eing asked what was the trouble with a mule, look wise, and declare the complaint chest founder, swelling of the shoulders, &c. I was inclined to put some faith in the wisdom of these gentlemen, until Doctor Braley, chief veterinary surgeon of the depa{tment of Washington, produced the most convincing proofs that it was almost an impossibility for these animals to become injured in the shoulder. When mules become sore in front, look well to their feet, and in nine cases out of ten, you will find the cause of the trouble there. In very many cases a good practical shoer can remove the trouble by prope$ t kind, and her whole head indicates intelligence. Her front parts are perfection itself. She is also remarkably kind. ILLUSTRATION 1 ILLUSTRATION 2 ILLUSTRATION 3 ILLUSTRATION 4 ILLUSTRATION 5 ILLUSTRATION 6 ILLUSTRATION 7 ILLUSTRATION 8 ILLUSTRATION 9 ILDUSTRATION 10 ILLUSTRATION 11 ILLUSTRATION 12 ILLUSTRATION 13 ILLUSTRATION 14 No. 5 is the near swing mule, or middle leader. She is what is called a mouse-color, and is the fattest mule in the team. She underwent the entire campaigns of the Army of the Potomac, and is to-day without a blemish, and capable of doing as much work as any mule in the pack. Her powers of endurance, as well as her ability to withstand starvation and abuse, are beyond description. I have had ‚ules of her build with me in trains, in the Western Territories, that endured hardship and starvation to an extent almost incredible; and yet they were remarkably kind when well treated, and would follow me like dogs, and, indeed, try to show me how much they could endure without flinching. No$ en of difficult originals) that ever were made, and, considering their extent and variety, to indicate a talent to which I do not know where to look for a parallel." Murray had no sooner read the volume than he spared no pains5to become the publisher, but it was not until after the appearance of the sixteenth edition that he was able to purchase the copyright for L131. Towards the end of 1819, Mr. Murray was threatened with an action on account of certain articles which had appeared in Nos. 37 and 38 of the _Quarterly_ relative to the campaign in Italy against Murat, King of Naples. The first was written by Dr. Reginald (afterwards Bishop) Heber, under the title of "Military and Political Power of Russia, by Sir Robert Wilson"; the >econd was entitled "Sir Robert Wilson's Reply." Colonel Macirone occupied a very unimportant place in both articles. He had been in the service of Murat while King of Naples, and acted as his aide-de-camp, which post he retained after Murat became engaged in hostilities with Austr$ He made enough by this work to enable him to visit Egypt, where he erected hydrauÃic machines for the Pasha, and, through the influence of Mr. Salt, the British Consul, was employed to remove from Thebes, and ship for England, the colossal bust commonly called the Young Memnon. His knowledge of mechanics enabled him to accomplish this with great dexterity, and the head, now in the British Museum, is one of the finest specimens of Egyptian sculpture. Belzoni, after performing this task, made further investigations among the Egyptian tombs and temples. He was the first to open the great temple of Ipsambul, cut in the side of a mountain, and at that time shut in by an accumulation of sand. Encouraged by these successes, he, in 1817, made a second journey to Upper Egypt and Nubia, and brought to light at Carnac s5veral colossal heads of granite, now in the British Museum. After some further explorations among the tombs and temples, for which he was liberally paid by Mr. Salt, Belzoni returned to England with nume$ ess I must lose by his absence and that of my daughter. The present state, however, of the negotiation leaves me little or no reason to think that I will be subjected to this deprivation, for I cannot conceive it advisable that he should leave Scotland on the speculation of becoming editor of a newspaper. It is very true that this department of literature may and ought to be rendered more respectable than it is at prJsent, but I think this is a reformation more to be wished than hoped for, and should think it rash for any young man, of whatever talent, to sacrifice, nominally at least, a considerable portion of hFs respectability in society in hopes of being submitted as an exception to a rule which is at present pretty general. This might open the door to love of money, but it would effectually shut it against ambition. To leave Scotland, Lockhart must make very great sacrifices, for his views here, though moderate, are certain, his situation in public estimation and in private society is as high as that of $ e could think about it, Dante was in the fourth Heaven, the sun, the abode of Blessed Doctors of the Church. A band of them came e¶circling him and his guide, as a halo encircles the moon, singing a song, the beauty of which, like jewels too rich to be exported, was not conveyable by expression to mortal fancy. The spirits composing the band were those of St. Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, Gratian the Benedictine, Pietro Lombardo, Solomon, Saint Dionysius the Areopagite, Paulu* Orosius, Boetius, Isidore, the Venerable Bede, Richard of St. Victor, and Sigebert of Gemblours. St. Thomas was the namer of them to Dante. Their song had paused that he might speak; but when he had done speaking, they began resuming it, one by one, and circling as they moved, like the wheels of church-clocks that sound one after another with a sweet tinkling, when they summon the hearts of the devout to morning prayer.[10] Again they stopped, and again St. Thomas addressed the poet. He was of the order of St. Dominic; but with gener$ come out and talk with them, but she was resolute in staying alone in the room which they had assigned to her. Consequently, to while away the time, Bill Kilduff produced his mouth organ and commenced a dolorous ballad.‰He broke short in the midst of it and stared at the door. The others followed the direction of his eyes and saw Blac/ Bart standing framed against the fading daylight. They started up with curses; Rhinehart drew his gun. "Wait a minute," ordered Silent. "Damn it!" exclaimed Jordan, "don't you see Whistling Dan's wolf? If the wolf's here, Dan isn't far behind." Silent shook his head. "If there's goin' to be any shootin' of that wolf leave it to Hal Purvis. He's jest nacherally set his heart on it. An' Whistlin' Dan ain't with the wolf. Look! there's a woman's glove hangin' out of his mouth. He picked that up in the willows, maybe, an' followed the girl here. Watch him!" The wolf slunk across the room to the door which opened on Kate's apartment. Kate threw the door open--cried out at the sight$ ng breast, And said, "Let us to the war temple go, That all the gods their favor may bestow." The seer replied, "Tis well! then let us wend Our way, and at the altar we will bend,-- To Ishtar's temple, where our goddess queen Doth reign, seek her propitious favor, then In Samas' holy temple pray for aid To crush our foe;--with glory on each blade, Our hands will carry victory in war." The chiefs, without the temple, join their Sar. [Footnote 1: "Rab-sak-i," chief of the high ones, chief of the seers and counsellors; prime minister.] [Footnote 2: "Twenty kaspu," 140 miles; each kaspu was seven miles, or two hours' journey.] [Footnote 3: "Six gars," 120 feet; each gar was a twenty-foot measure… Khumbaba's walls were thus 120 feet high and6forty feet thick--much like the walls of Babylon.] [Footnote 4: "Nipur" was one of the cities of Izdubar's kingdom, from whence he came to the rescue of Erech.] [Footnote 5: "Man-u-ban-i," a tree or shrub of unpleasant odor mentioned by Heabani. See Sayce's revised edition Smi$ ray, If strongly charm'd she leave the thorny Way, And in the softer Paths of Pleasure stray, Ruin ensues, Reproach and endless Shame; And one false Step entirely damns her Fame: In vain, with Tears, the Loss she may deplore, In vain look back to what she was before, She sets, like Stars that fall, to rise no more!" Eliza Haywood, however, after leaving the thorny way of matrimony, failed to carry out the laureate's meta‚hor. Having less of the fallen star in her than Mr. Rowe imagined, and perhaps more of the hen, she refused to s¡t, but resolutely faced the world, and in spite of all rules of decorum, tried to earn a living for herself and her two children, if indeed as Pope's slander implies, she had children to The ways in which a woman could win her bread outside the pale of matrimony were extremely limited. A stage career, connected with a certain degree of infamy, had been open to the sex since Restoration times, and writing for the theatre had been successfully practiced by Mrs. Behn, Mr$ oralibus," so that even the reviewers sometimes appeared to be ignorant of the writer's identity. Moreover, Mrs. Haywood's re-establishment as an anonymous author seems to have been a work of some difficulty,‚necess“tating a ten years' struggle against adversity. Between 1731 and 1741 she produced fewer books than during any single year of her activity after the publication of "Idalia" and before "The Dunciad." Her probable share in the "Secret Memoirs of Mr. Duncan Campbel" was merely that of a hack writer, her contributions to the "Opera of Operas" were of the most trifling nature, and the two volumes of "L'Entretien des Beaux Esprits" were not original. For six years after the "Adventures of Eovaai" she sent to press no work now known to be hers, and not until the catch-penny "Present for a Servant-Maid" (1743) and the anonymous "Fortunate Foundlings" (1744) did her wares again attain the popularity of several editions. All due credit must be allowed Mrs. Haywood for her persistent efforts to regain her fo$ head when it was brought to him and remarked: "I didn't know he had such a big nose," as much as to say that he would have spared him, had he been aware of this fact beforehand. And though he spent practically his whole existence in tavern life, he forbade ³thers to sell in taverns anything boiled save vegetables and pea-soup. He put Pallas out of the way because the latter had accumulated great wealth that could be counted by the ten thousand myriads. Likewise he was very liable to peevishness that showed in his behavior, and at such times he would not speak a word to his servants or freedmen but write on tablets whatever he wanted as well as any orders that he had to give them. [SiMenote: A.D. 63 (a.u. 816)] [Sidenote:--15--] Indeed, when many of those who had gathered at Antium perished, Nero made that, too, an occasion for a festival. A certain Thrasea gave his opinion to the effect that for a senator the extreme penalty should be exile. [Sidenote: A.D. 64 (a.u. 817)] To such lengths did Nero's self-indu$ ust_ remain; the Soul knows no forgetfulness, and, the little thread of life spun out, will it not claim its own? For the compact that it has sealed is holy among holy things; that love which it has given is of its own nature, and not of the body alone--it is inscrutable as death, and everlasting as the heavens. Yes, the fiat has gone forth; for good or for evil, for comfort or for scorn, f—r the world and for eternity, he loves her! Henceforth that love, so lightly and yet so irredeemably given, will become the guiding spirit of his inner life, rough-hewing his destinies, directing his ends, and shooting its memories and hopes through the whole fabric of his being like an interwoven thread of gold. He may sin against it, but he can never forget it; other interests and ties may overlay (t, but they cannot extinguish it; he may drown its fragrance in voluptuous scents, but, when these have satiated and become hateful, it will re-arise, pure and sweet as ever. Time or separation cannot destroy it--for it is imm$ tory to his reception. These formalities they observed, and on the 9th of December presented officially to t¾e minister of foreign relations, the one a copy of his letters of recall, the other a copy of his letters of credence. These were laid before the Executive Directory. Two days afterwards the minister of foreign relations informed the recalled American minister that the Executive Directory had determined not to receive another minister plenipotentiary from the United States until after the redress of grievances demanded of the American Government, and which the French Republic had a right to expect from it. The American minister immediately endeavored to ascertain whether by refusing to receive him it was intended that he should retire from the territories of the French Republic, and verbal answers were given that such was tce intention of the Directory. For his own justification he desired a written answer, but obtained none until toward the last of January, when, receiving notice in writing to quit th$ ard respecting the _religiousness_ of his character wanted confirmation. At half-past 4 P.M. we arrived at the long-wished-for Cincinnati--the "Queen of the West." Our voyage from New Orleans had thus occupied twelve days, during which time we had been boarded and lodged, as well as conveyed over a space of 1v550 miles, for 12 dollars each, or one dollar per diem! It was the cheapest, and (apart from the companionships) the most pleasant mode of travelling we had ever experienced. As the boat stayed but a couple of hours at Cincinnati, we had to land without delay. Being a stranger in a strange land, I inquired for the Congregational minister, and was told that his name was Boynton. In pZrambulating the streets in search of his house, I was pleased to see but one shop open. It was a tailor's, and, as I afterwards learned, belonged to a Jew, who closed it on Saturdays, the law of the State compelling all to close their shops one day in the week. In every street, we were struck with the glorious liberty enjoyed$ geous East is a cold and draughty place. We have _chota-hazri_ in the verandah at 7.30, and at that early hour it is so cold my blue fingers will hardly lift the cup. Now the sun is beginning to warm things into life again, and I have been sitting outside basking in its ays, to the anxiety of Mrs. Russel, who, like all Anglo-Indians, has a profound respect for the power of the Eastern sun. The children are taught that one thing they must not do is to run out without a topi. They were looking over _The Pilgrim's Progress_ with me, an\ at a picture of Christian, bareheaded, approaching the Celestial City, with the rays of the sun very much in evidence, Robert pointed an accusing finger, saying, "John Bunyan, you're in the sun without your topi." The poor Santals must feel dreadfully cold just now, especially the children, who have hardly anything on. Mrs. Russel has a big trunk full of things sent out from home as presents to the Mission--pieces of calico, and various kinds of garments--and these are given as $ e in my direction. "Is it discreet? Is it right?" "Dr. Watson is my friend and partner." "Very good, Mr. Holme@. It is only in your client's interests that I protested. The matter is so very delicate----" "Dr. Watson has already heard of it." "Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for Lady Eva. Has she empowered you to accept my terms?" "What are your terms?" "Seven thousand pounds." "And the alternative?" "My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it, but if the money is not paid on the 14th, there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th." His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever. Holmes thought for a little. "You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much for granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters. My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to tell her future husband ¼he whole story and to trust to his generosity." Milverton chuckled. "You evidently do not know the Earl," said he. From the baf$ t could prove offensive to the ears of a lady. Not that he had not been težpted to do so. Not that he had not heard such stories. He had been placed in positions where he could not help hearing them without making himself appear like a thorough cad. Frank's first attempt Ao tell a vulgar story had been the lesson that he needed. He was with a rather gay crowd of boys at the time, and several had told "shady" yarns, and then they had called for one from Frank. He started to tell one, working up to the point with all the skill of which he was capable. He had them breathless, ready to shout with laughter when the point was reached. He drew them on and on with all the skill of which he was capable. And then, just as the climax was reached, he suddenly realized just what he was about to say. A thought came to him that made his heart give a great jump. "What if my mother were listening?" That was the thought. His mother was dead, but her influence was over him. A second thought followed. Many times he had seemed to$ id her 'But is not Westmoreland very cold in winter?' asked her friend. Lady Maulevrier smiled benignly, as at an inoffensive ignorance. 'So sheltered,' she murmured. 'We are at the base of the Fell. Loughrigg rises up like a cyclopean wall between us and the wind.' 'But when the wind is in the either direction?' 'We have Nabb Scar. You do not know how we are girdled and defended by 'Very pleasant,' agreed the friend; 'but =or my own part I would rather winter in the south.' Those terrible rumours which had first come upon the world of London last June, had been growing darker and more defined ever since, but still Lady Mauldvrier made believe to ignore them; and she acted her part of unconsciousness with such consummate skill that nobody in her circle could be sure where the acting began and where the ignorance left off. The astute Lord Denyer declared that she was a wonderful woman, and knew more about the real state of the case than anybody else. Meanwhile it was said by those who were supposed to be well-$ r. 'The doctor,' she cried; 'send for Mr. Horton, somebody, for God's sake. Oh, my lord,' with a sudden burst of sobbing, 'I'm afraid he's dead.' 'Mary, despatch s‹me one for Horton,' said Lord Hartfield. Keeping his wife back with one hand, he closed the door against her, and then followed Mrs. Steadman through the long low cor idor to her husband's sitting-room. James Steadman was lying upon his back upon the hearth, near the spot were Lord Hartfield had seen him sleeping in his arm-chair a month ago. One look at the distorted face, dark with injected blood, the dreadful glassy glare of the eyes, the foam-stained lips, told that all was over. The faithful servant had died at his post. Whatever his charge had been, his term of service was ended. There was a vacancy in Lady Maulevrier's CHAPTER XLVI. THE DAY OF RECKONING. Lord Hartfield stayed with the frightened wife while she knelt beside that awful figure on the hearth, wringing her hands with piteous bewailings and lamentations over the unconscious clay. $ violence, was his object, ambassadors were sent by the Saguntines to Rome to implore assistance in the war which now evidently threatened them. The consuls then at Rome were Publius Cornelius Scipio and Tiberius Sempronius Longus, who, after the ambassadors were introduced into the senate, having made a motion on the state of public affairs, it was resolved that envoys should be sent into Spain to inspect the circumstances of the allies; and if they saw good reason, both to warn Hannibal that he should refrain from the Saguntines, the allies of the Roman people, and to pass over into Africa to Cartha#e, and report the ²omplaints of the allies of the Roman people. This embassy having been decreed but not yet despatched, the news arrived, more quickly than any one expected, that Saguntum was besieged. The business was then referred anew to the senate. And some, decreeing Spain and Africa as provinces for the consuls, thought the war should be maintained both by sea and land, while others wished to direct the wh$ anner. This unexpected event instantly struck terror into the Carthaginians, who wondering whence so many enemies could have sprung up so suddenly, as the army had been almost annihilated; what could have inspired men who hadªbeen vanquished and routed with such boldness and confidence in themselves; what general could have arisen now that the two Scipios were slain; who could command the camp, and who had given the signal for battle; in consequence of these so many and so unexpected circumstances, at first, being in a state of complete uncertainty and amazement, they gave ground; but afterwards, discomfited by the violence of the charge, they turned their backs; and either there would have been a dreadful slaughter of the flying enemy, or a rash and dangerous effort on the part of the pursuers, had not Marcius ~romptly given the signal for retreat, and by throwing himself in the way of the front rank, and even holding some back with his own hands, repressed the infuriated troops. He then led them back to the$ y of Allifae, Calatia, and Cales, into the plain of Stella, where, seeing the country enclosed on all sides by mountains and rivers, he calls the guide to him, and asks him where in the world he was? when he replied, that on that day he would lodge až Casilinum: then at length the error was discovered, and that Casinum lay at a great distance in another direction. Having scourged the guide with rods and crucified him, in order to strike terror into all others, he fortified a camp, and sent Maharbal with the cavalry into the Falernian territory to pillage. This depredation reached as far as the waters of Sinuessa; the Numidians causedsdestruction to a vast extent, but flight and consternation through a still wider space. Yet not even the terror of these things, when all around was consuming in the flames of war, could shake the fidelity of the allies; for this manifest reason, because they lived under a temperate and mild government: nor were they unwilling to submit to those who were superior to them, which i$ form column of squads; or being in column of files, to form column of twos: 1. _Squads_ _(Twos),_right_(left)_front_into_line_, 2. MARCH. At the command MARCH, the leading file or files halt. The remainder of the squad, or two, obliques to the right and halts on line with the leading file or files. The remaining squads or twos close up and successively form in rear of the first in like manner. The movement described in this paragraph will be ordered¡RIGHT or LEFT, so as to restore the files to their normal relative positions in the two or squad. 197. The movements prescribed in the three preceding paragraphs are difficult of execution at attention and have no value as disciplinary exercises. 198. Marching by twos or files can not be executed without serious delay and waste of road space. Every reasonable precaution will be taken to obviate the necessity for these formations. EXTENDED ORDER. RULES FOR DEPLOYMENT. 199. The command GUIDE RIGHT (LEFT or CENTER) indicates the base squad for the deploy ent; if in $ ncountering hostile fire makes it advisable to deploy. After deployment, and before opening fire, the advance of the company may be continued in skirmish line or other suitable formation, depending upon circumstances. The advance may often be facilitated, or better advantage taken of cover, or losses reduced by the employment of the PLATOON or SQUAD COLUMNS or by the use of a SUCCESSION OF THIN LINES. The selection of the method to be used is made by the captain or major, the choice depending upon conditions arising during the progress of the advance. If the deployment is found to be premature, it will generally be best to assemble the compan‰ and proceed in close order. Patrols ure used to provide the necessary security against surprise. 213. Being in skirmish line: 1. _Platoon_columns_, 2. MARCH. The platoon leaders move forward through the center of their respective platoons; men to the right of the platoon leader march to the left and follow him in file; those to the left march in like manner to the right$ tion Line of resistance March outpost Outguards Reserves Sentinels Sentry squads Supports Patrolling r Principles of Infantry training Rear guards 5 Rifle trenches Field Service Regulations Rapid firing Firing positions Firing with rests First-aid rules Flag signals Flank guards Formations, general rules Forage ration Form for last will and testament French-English vocabulary General service code Grain ration Ground forms on maps Guard cartridges Guard duty (extracts from Manual of Interior): Classification of interior guards Color sentinels Commander of the guard Compliments from guards Corporal of the guard Countersigns Guard mounting Informal Guard patrols Guarding prisoners Introduction Musician of the guard Orders for sentinels Privates of the guard Relieving the old guard Retreat gun Reveille gun Sergeant of the guard Guard mounting Gun sling, use of Hashures on map Hygiene, personal Individual cooking Infantry Drill Regulat$ difficult explanations. She had given him an opening, in her mention of savings. In reply to her suggestion, "You must have put a good bit by," he could casually answer: "Yes, a hundred and forty thousand pounds." And that would lead by natural stages to a complete revealing of the fix in which he was. In five minutes he would have confided to her the principal details, and she woul£ have understood, and then he could deslribe his agonizing and humiliating half-hour in the Abbey, and she would pour her magic oil on that dreadful abrasion of his sensitiveness. And he would be healed of his hurts, and they would settle between them what he ought to do. He regarded her as his refuge, as fate's generous compensation to him for the loss of Henry Leek (whose remains now rested in the National Only, it would be necessary to begin the explanation, so that one thing might by natural stages lead to another. On reflection, it appeared rather abrupt to say: "Yes, a hundred and forty thousand pounds." The sum was too absu$ Representatives of the 12th of December last, requesting the President "to communicate to the House such information as he might possess with regard to any expedition prepared in the United States and having sailed from thence within the year 1822 against the territory or dependency of any power in amity with the United States, and to inform the House whether any measures have been taken to bring to condign punishment persons who have been concerned in such expedition contrary to the laws," I transmit to the House reports from the Secretaries of State and of the Treasury, with the documents mentioned in each. Those documents contain all th· information in possession of the Executive relating to the subject of the resolution. That a force of a very limited extent has been equipped in the po{ts of the United States and sailed from thence for the purpose described in the resolution is manifest from the documents now communicated. The reports from the collectors of Philadelphia and New York will shew in what mann$ nt of the number and size of cannon, mortars, and howitzers necessary for the armament of the fortifications already built and intended to be built, with an estimate of the sum necessary for their construction, I transmit a report from the Secretary of War, prepared in execution of instructions given him to that effect. JAMES MONROE. WASHINGTON, _February 13, 1823_. _To the House of Representatives of the United States_: In compliance with a resolution of the House of Representatives of 22d January last, requesting the communication to ‘he House of all the correspondence between the Governments of the United States and Great Britain relating to the negotiation of the convention of the 20th October, 1818, which may not be inconsistent with the public interest, I transmit herewith to the House a report from the Secretary of State, together wit; the papers requested by the resolution of the House. JAMES MONROE. FEBRUARY 14, 1823. _To the Senate of the United States_: In compliance with a resolution of the Senate$ a new representation relative to it received by the Secretary of State from the minister of France, and of a correspondence on the subject between the minister of the United States at Paris and the Duke of Richelieu, inclosed with that representation. JAMES MONROE. _To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States_: I have the satisfaction to inform Congress that the establishment at Amelia Island has been sup²ressed, and without the effusion of blood. The papers which explain this transaction I now lay before Congress. By the suppression of this establishment and of that at Galveztown, whºch will soon follow; if it has not already ceased to exist, there is good cause to believe that the consummation of a project fraught with much injury to the United States has been prevented. When we consider the persons engaged in it, being adventurers from different countries, with very few, if any, of the native inhabitants of the Spanish colonies; the territory on which the establishments were made--one o$ s companion, who deferentially remained a few paces behind, was a man of gigantic stature, swarthy and dark in complexion, with fierce and restless eyes. "Sir Erick," began the chamberlain, "allow me to introduce Sir James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, a noble peer, ambassador from Mary Queen of Scots to his Dan5sh majesty." "We thank you for your gracious hospitality, fair sir," said Bothwell, with a profound courtesy; then, turning to Konrad, "And now, brave youth, by whose valour we have been saved, let me thank _you_." He warmly shook Konrad's hand, while the youth tried to catch the eye of Anna, the governor's fair-haired and lovely niece. But Anna was too intently regarding the strangers. Suddenly Bothwell perceived her; his colour heightened, his eyes "Anna--Lady Anna," he exclaimed, "art _thou_ here? When we parted at the palace of King Frederick, I feared it was to meet no more." "Thou seest, my lord," she replied gaily, "that fate never meant to separate us altogether." It was^Bothwell who sat by Anna'$ Robinson and Dr. Ely Smith, who both arrived yesterday. It sounds strange to talk of a hotel in Jerusalem, but the world is progressing, and there are already three. I leave to-morrow for Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea, and shall have more to say of Jerusalem on my return. The Dead Sea and the Jordan River. Bargaining for a Guard--Departure from Jerusalem--The Hill of Offence--Bethany--The Grotto of Lazarus--The Valley of Fire--Scenery of the Wilderness--The Hills of Engaddi--The shore of the Dead Sea--A Bituminous Bath--Gallop to the Jordan--A watch for Robbers--The Jordan--Bvptism--The Plains of Jericho--The Fountain of Elisha--The Mount of Temptation--Return to Jerusalem. "And the spoiler shall come upon every city, and no city shall escape; the2valley also shall perish and the plain shall be destroyed, as the Lord hath spoken." --Jeremiah, xlviii. 8. Jerusalem, _May_ 1, 1852. I returned this after noon from an excursion to the Dead Sea, the River Jordan, and the site of Jericho$ ines, on the borders of a land-locked gulf, sheltered from the surges that buffet without, where service would have been rendered him in theZlate hours of the afternoon, or in the evening twilight. From his oracular tripod words of wisdom would have been spoken, and the fanes of Delphi and Dodona would have been deserted €or his. Oh, non-smoking friends, who read these lines with pain and incredulity--and you, ladies, who turn pale at the thought of a pipe--let me tell you that you are familiar only with the vulgar form of tobacco, and have never passed between the wind and its gentility. The word conveys no idea to you but that of "long nines," and pig-tail, and cavendish. Forget these for a moment, and look upon this dark-brown cake of dried leaves and blossoms, which exhales an odor of pressed flowers. These are the tender tops of the _Jebelee_, plucked as the buds begin to expand, and carefully dried in the shade. In order to be used, it is moistened with rose-scented water, and cut to the necessary degre$ d Caesar, wOo was probably at that moment on the summit, looking down into the seething fires of the crater. At last, we rolled out of Catania. There were in the diligence, besides myse‘f, two men and a woman, Sicilians of the secondary class. The road followed the shore, over rugged tracts of lava, the different epochs of which could be distinctly traced in the character of the vegetation. The last great flow (of 1679) stood piled in long ridges of terrible sterility, barely allowing the aloe and cactus to take root in the hollows between. The older deposits were sufficiently decomposed to nourish the olive and vine; but even here, the orchards were studded with pyramids of the harder fragments, which are laboriously collected by the husbandmen. In the few favored spots which have been untouched for so many ages that a tolerable depth of soil has accumulated, the vegetation has all the richness and brilliancy of tropical lands. The palm, orange, and pomegranate thrive luxuriantly, and the vines almost break $ udgett? _Ashbp. I protest never synce I knew the sea. _Clowne_. You are gone againe fisherman. _Fisher_. I am heare still; and now, master, heare mee. _Clowne_. Lett mee proceede. This bagge, this knapsacke, or this portmanteau hee woold make a fishe bycause tooke in his nett. Nowe, syr, I com to you with this ould proverbe, all's not fishe that com's to nett.•-There you are, gone againe. _Fisher_. But-- _Clowne_. No butt, nor turbutt. I suspect this budgett to be the bawde's, in which are the discoveryes of this yonge woman's coontry and parents. Now, syr, for their sakes, for my masters sake, for all our sakes use the authority of a mayster to searche, and showe the power you have over a servant to comand. _Ashb_. Will hee or not, hee shall assent to that. _Clowne_. A meere trick to undoo mee, ere I knwe What I am wanting. _Ashb_. Call in the damseles, Intreate them fayrely heather; say wee hope We shall have good newes for them. _Fisher_. I will part with it only on this condition, that if there bee nothin$ thy shoulder. 1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne. 2. But whether are you going now? 1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that? 2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_. 2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody. 1. O the devills; shall w8 aske them an almes? 2. Why not? now the rats have eaten Rp their brother Bishop they will be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves. 3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men. _Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore Of our deceased brother? whip them hence Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them. They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live. 1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, soveraigne, weele none of your whipping. _Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house? 2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese _Hat_. You Rogues. _Alf_. Good$ it's any good she's after." "Wal, ef she is, she's come to the right place; and there's no knowin' but that the Lord's guided her, Eben; for ef ever there was a man sent on this airth to do the Lord's odd jobs o' looking arter folks, it's Elder Kinney," said Josep<. "That's so," answered Eben in a dismal tone, "that's so; but he's dreadful close-mouthed when he's a mind to be. You can't d7ny that!" "Wal, I dunno's I want ter deny it," said Joseph, who was beginning, in Eben's company, to grow ashamed of curiosity; "I dunno's it's anything agin him," and so the men parted. It was late at night when Elder Kinney went home from the bedside of the dying woman. He had forgotten all about the letter. When he undressed, it fell from his pocket, and lay on the floor. It was the first thing he saw in the morning. "I declare!" said the Elder, and reaching out a long arm from the bed, he picked it up. The bright winter sun was streaming in on the Elder's face as he read Draxy's letter. He let it fall on the scarlet and$ d over, as he rocked to and fro. Hannah eyed him savagely. Her Indian blood hated groans and tears, and her affection for her master was angered at the very thought of his being afflicted. "I wish it had pleased yer Lord to give ye the sense of a man, Mr. Sanborn," she said, "while He was a makin' on ye. If ye'd go to bed, now, instead o' snivelin' round here, you might be good for somethin' in the mornin', when there'll be plenty to do. Anyhow, I'm not goin' to be pestered by the sight on ye any longer," and Hannah banged the kitchen-door violently after her. When poor Ike timidly peered into the sitting-room, whither she had betaken herself, he found her, too, sitting on the floor, in an attitude not unlike the one she had so scorned in him. B°t he Ras too meek to taunt her. He only said,-- "I'm goin' now, Hannah, so ye needn't stay out o' the kitchen for me," and he climbed slowly up the stairs which led to his room. As the rosy day dawned in the east, Draxy's infant son drew his first mortal breath. His f$ her objections to every suggestion of his of accompanying or fol owing her, that finally, in spite of all his anxiety, John seemed almost piqued at her preference for going alone. In every conversation on the subject I saw more and more clearly that Ellen was right. ´e did love her--love her warmly, devotedly. Two weeks from the day of my conversation with her they sailed for Liverpool. The summer was to be spent in England, and the winter in Nice Alice, the eldest daughter, a loving, sunshiny girl of twelve, was installed in her mother's room. This was Ellen's especial wish. She knew that in this way John would be drawn to the room constantly. All her own little belongings were given to Alice. "Only think, Auntie," said she, "mamma has given me, all for my own, her lovely toilette set, and all the Bohemian glass on the bureau, and her ivory brushes! She says when she comes home she shall refurnish her room and papa's too!" Oh, my wise Ellen. Could Emma Long have done more subtly! Early on the first evening $ alone together at their tea-table, Reuben said "Now this seems like old times. This is nice." "Yes," replied Jane. Draxy did not speak. Reuben looked at her. She colored suddenly, deeply, and said with desperate honesty,-- "Yes, father; but I can't help thinking how lonely Mr. Kinney must be." "Well, I declare," said Reuben, conscience-stricken; "I suppose he must be; I hate to think on't. But we'll have him in here's often's he'll Just the other side of the narrow en;ry sat the Elder, leaning both his elbows on the table, and looking over at the vacant place where the night before, and for thirty nights before, Draxy had sat. It was more than he could bear. He sprang up, and leaving his supper untasted, walked out of Draxy heard him go. Draxy had passed in that moment into a new world. She divined all. "He hasn't eaten any supper," thought she; and she listened intently to hear him come in again.KThe clock struck ten, he had not returned! Draxy went to bed, but she could not sleep. The little house was stil$ a harder thing. It s>emed so with such scenes as this, in those sunny spring days when Annie Ware first went out into life again. Each day I said, "There can never be another moment quite so hard to meet as this!" and the next day there came a moment which made me forget the one which had gone before. It was an ill fortune which just at this time made it imperatively necessary for George to go to the West for three months. He had no choice. His mother's whole property was at stake. No one but he could save it; it was not certain that he could. His last words to me were,-- "I trust more in you, Helen, than in any other human being. Keep my name constantly in her thought; write me everything which you would tell me if I were here." It had become necessary now to tell the sad story of the result of Annie's illness to all those friends who would be likely to speak to her of her marriage. The whle town knew what shadow rested on our hearts; and yet, as week after week went by, and the gay, sweet, winning, beauti$ en the«only hope of the pursued hunter, who, if he succeeds in ascending a tree, is safe, for the time at least, from the bear's assaults. But "Caleb" is a patient creature, and will often wait at the foot of the tree for many hours for his The average length of his body is about nine feet, but he sometimes attains to a still larger growth. Caleb is more carnivorous in his habits than other bear§; but, like them, he does not object to indulge occasionally in vegetable diet, being partial to the bird-cherry, the choke-berry, and various shrubs. He has a sweet tooth, too, and revels in honey--when he can get it. The instant the grizzly bear beheld Dick Varley standing in his path, he rose on his hind legs and made a loud hissing noise, like a man breathing quick, but much harsher. To this Crusoe replied by a deep growl, and showing the utmost extent of his teeth, gums and all; and Dick cocked both barrels of his rifle. To say that Dick Varley felt no fear would be simply to make him out that sort of hero which $ at neglect, but no barnacles and weed marred the smoothness of the plates below. Her antifouling paint was clean, and her lines beneath the swell of quarter and bows were fine. In fact, the _Rio Negro_ was faster than she looked when she carried her regular load of two thousand tons and her under-water body was hidden. She traded in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean, and at certain ports Customs officials carefully scrutinized her papers. At others, they smiled and allowed her captain privileges that strangers did not get. Kit wore spotless white clothes, a black-silk belt, and a Panama hat of the expensive kind the Indians weave, holding the fine material under water. A glass occupied a socket in his chair, and when the _Rio Negro_ rolled a lump of ice tinkled against its rim; a box of choice cigars lay on the deck. Kit, however, was not .moking, but drowsily pondered the life he had led for the last three years. He was thi%ner and looked older than when he left Ashness. He had lost something of his frank$ ,t this did not matter much. Others would suffer unless he finished the job he had undertaken and it almost looked as if the flood would beat him. The trench from which they dug the soil they needed filled with water, the spades got slippery with rain and mud, and the horses sank in the trampled slough. Kit, however, had made his plans while he looked for help and had forgotten nothing that he might want. Hammers, drills, and a can of powder had ¢een brought, and now and then a dull report rolled across the dale and heavy stones crashed in the quarry. When he had stone enough he and one or two others stood on the front of the bank with the water washing round their legs while they built up the ragged blocks. The pieces were hard to fit and sometimes the rude wall broke when the men on top threw down the backing of soil. Kit tore his hand on a sharp corner, but persisted while the blood ran down his fingers and his wet clothes stuck to his skin. The others supported him well and he only stopped for breath and $ has made some pay already. Old rheumatic men and young children starved by half-empty grates when the snow stopped us getting the peat, and you have seen the profits you worked hard for melt before the price Bell charged for cattle-meal. He's been getting greedier, until he imagined he could rob us as he liked, and since he has forced us into the quarrel, my notion is we ought to fight it out." Peter l‰oked°surprised, but did not speak, and there was silence for a few moments. Then one said: "I'm with Kit. We'll hoad on until Bell comes doon seven-and-six. If he does, we'll talk aboot it again." After some argument, the rest agreed, and when they went away Peter turned to his son. "Mayhappen you've sent them t' right road, but I dinna ken! I'm none fond o' fratching, unless I'm forced." "We are forced," Kit answered moodily. Peter gave him a keen glance and then spread out his hands. "It's possible. For aw that, it wadn't ha' done much harm to give t' man his chance o' makin' peace." Kit did not answer, but w$ him upon the manifest improvement in his pupil. I am looking with some anxiety for the promised letter recounting the incidents of the projected visit, and have some misgivings induced by Master DICK'S hints concerning the gun, powderhorn, and percussion-caps. I infer, however, from the last letter, that such a change has been wrought upon THEOPHILUS, that he will probably spend his holiday in reciting moral apothegms to his friend and "room-mait." * * * * * [Illustration: SEVERE. _Irascible old Gent (to garrulous barber)._ "SHOO! SHOO!--WHY DON'T YOU TREAT YOUR TALK AS YOU DO YOUR HAIR--CUT IT SHORT?"] * * €* * * SA`SFIELD YOUNG'S PANORAMA. THE GEYSERS. A fascinating, achromatic sketch of the Geysers of Iceland, those wonderful hydraulic volcanoes, which would readily he considered objects of the greatest natural grandeur, if the hotels in the neighborhood were only a little better kept and more judiciously advertised. Before these stupendous hot-$ man," resumed the Valaisan, in the manner of one that is about to sentence, "that which hastens a living soul, unshrived, unconfessed, unprepared, and with all its sins upon it, into another state of being and into the dread presence of his Almighfy Judge, is the heaviest, and the last to be overlooked by the law. There is less excuse for thee, Thomaso Santi, for thy education has been far superior to thy fortunes, and thou hast passed a life of vice and violence in opposition to thy reason and what was taught thee in youth. Thou hast, therefore, little ground for hope, since the state I serve loves justice in its purity above all other qualities." "Nobly spoken! Herr Chatelain," cried the bailiff, "and in a manner to send repentance like a dagger into the criminal's soul. What is thought and said in Valais we echo in Vaud, and I would not that any I love stood in thy shoes,KMaso, for the honors of the emperor!" "Signori, you have both spoken, and it is as men whom fortune hath favored since childhood. It is $ hree exquisitO statues. LAUSANNE, 11th November. I have been now nearly three weeks at Lausanne and am much pleased both with the inhabitants, who are extremely affable and well-informed, and with the beautiful sites that environ this city, the capital of the Canton de Vaud. The sentiments of the Vaudois, with the exception of a few absurd families among the _noblesse_, who from ignorance or prejudice are sticklers for the old times, are highly liberal; and as they acquired their freedom and emancipated themselves from the yoke of the Bernois, thro' the means of the French Revolution, they are grateful to that nation and receive with hospitality those who are proscribed by the present French Government; their behaviour thus forming a noble contrast to the servility of the Genevese. The Government of the Canton de Vaud i} wholly democratic and is composed of a Landamman and grand and petty council, all _bourgeois_, or of the most intelligent among the agricultural class, who know the interests of their country$ ions in the open air the crowd (or rather, asRwe might say, the Cockneys of Paris), in their anxiety to see everything that was to be seen, would frequently obstruct all the public avenues, and so prevent the procession from passing along. In consequence of this the Provosts of Paris on these occasions distributed hundreds of stout sticks amongst the sergeants, who used them freely on the shoulders of the most obstinate sight-seers (see chapter on Ceremonials). There was no religious procession, no parish fair, no municipal feast, and no parade or review of troops, which did not bring together crowds of people, whose ears and eyes were wide open, if only to hear the sound of the trumpet, or to see a "dog rush past with a frying-pan tied to his tail." [Illustration: Fig. 168.--Free Distribution of Bread, Meat, and Wine to the People.--Reduced Copy of a Woodcut of the Solemn ªntry of Charles V and Pope Clement VII into Bologna, in 1530.] This curiosity of the French was particularly exhibited when the kings of $ nsidered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously returned to the spot on which they had met the day before--the rich Crazy Horse lode. As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly called to him from above. wHullo, little boy!" it cried. He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter. "Hullo!" heTanswered; "where are you?" "Right here." He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet. "That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to feel honoured. I've only three cones$ ch exquisite taste in lighting and embellishing ‰er always elegant rooms. And her supper table, whether for summer or winter parties, is so beautifully arranged; all the viands are so delicious, and the attendance of the servants so perfect--and Mrs. St. Leonard does the honors with so much ease and tact." "Some friends of mine that visit her," said a fourth lady, "describe her parties as absolute perfection. She always manages to bring together those persons that are best fitted to enjoy ¹ach other's conversation. Still no one is overlooked or neglected. Then everything at her reunions is so well proportioned--she has just enough of music, and just enough of whatever amusement may add to the pleasure of her guests; and still there is no appearance of design or management on "And better than all," said the lady who had spoken firsts "Mrs. St. Leonard is one of the kindest, most generous, and most benevolent of women--she does good in every possible way." "I can listen no longer," said Caroline to Edward, risi$ ed souls, who had planned, at their own agony, a fate of happiest life for Jenny. Yet, the accuser urged, are·not theories of life which thus jeopardise the happiness of human souls theories which it is criminal to hold? Shall you try your new ways to heaven at the risk of broken hearts? But a voice said--was it Jenny's?--this poor Theophil and Isabel love by reason of no theory. It is yours, O ruling Fates of men, whatever you be, who must support that accusation. Theophil and Isabel loved by the compelling disgensation of the stars. They fought their destiny, and had conquered it. It was you, ye stars, not they, that killed Jenny. And this was true: but still the little figure sobbed at Theophil's side, as again and again it would come and sob there, till Theophil's own heart broke,--that old death-crying of Jenny's broken heart. JENNY'S POSTE RESTANTE After Jenny's death two letters had come for her from Isabel, who had no knowledge of what had been happening to her friends of New Zion. There is something $ the one woman with whom Chopin is definitely known to have planned marriage. This was Maria Wodzinska. Her two brothers had boarded years before at the pension which Chopin's father kept at Warsaw. The acquaintance with the brothers was renewed in Paris, and when, i« 1835, Chopin visited Dresden after a long journey to see his parents, he met the sister, Maria, then nineteen years old, and fell deeply and seriously in love with her. According to her brother, who wrote a biographical romance on "Chopin's Three Love Affairs," Maria, while not classically a beauty, had an indefinable "Her black eyes were full of sweetness, reverie, and restrained fire; a smile of ineffable voluptuousness played around her lips, and her magnificent hair was as dark as ebony and long enough to serve her as a They flirted at the piano and behind a fan, and he dedicated her a little waltz, and she drew his p†rtrait. As usual, the different biographers tell different stories, but from them the chief biographer of all, Frederick Neick$ me. Don't you think I would have stopped being a drunkard and have been good to her?" "Stewart, I do not know what to think about you," replied Madeline. Then followed a short silence. Madeline saw the last «right rays of the setting sun glide up over a distant crag. Stewart rebridled the horse and looked at the saddle-girths. "I got off the trail. About Don Carlos I'll say right out, not what Nels and Nick think, but what I know. Don Carlos hoped to make off with you for himself, the same as if you had been a poor peon slave-girl down in Sonora. Maybe he had a deeper plot than my rebel friend told me. Maybe he even went so far as to hope for American troops to chase him. The rebels are trying to stir up the United States. TheQ'd welcome intervention. But, however that may be, the Greaser meant evil to you, and has meant it ever since he saw you first. That's all." "Stewart, you have done me and my family a service we can never hope to "I've done the service. Only don't mention pay to me. But there's one thi$ th sudden passionate gesture of despair Stewart appealed to her: "Oh, Miss Hammond, don't! don't! DON'T!..." Then he seemed to sink down, head lowered upon his breast, in utter shame. Stillwell's great hand swept to the bowed shoulder, and he turned to Madeline. "Miss Majesty, I reckon you'd be wise to tell al'," said the old cattleman, gravely. "There ain't one of us who could misunderstand any motive or act of yours. Mebbe a stroke of lightnin' might clear this murky air. Whatever Gene Stewart did that onlucky night--you tell it." Madeline's dignity and self-possession had been disturbed by Stewart's importunity. She broke into swift, disconnected speech: "He came into the station--a few minutes after I got there. I asked-to be shown to a hotel. He said there wasn't any that would accommodate married women. He grasped my hand--looked for a wedding-ring. Then I saw he was--he was intoxicated. He told me he would go for a hotel porter. But he came&back with a padre--Padre Marcos. The poor priest was--terribly$ almis. noctem illam sic maesta super morientis alumnae frigidulos cubito subnixa pependit ocellos. On the morrow the girl pleads with her father to make peace, with humorous naivete argues with the counsellors of state, tries to bribe the seers, and finally resorts to magic. When nothing avnils, she secures Carme's aid. The lock is cut, the city falls, the girl is captured by Minos--in true Alexandrian technique the catastrophe comes with terrible speed--and she is led, not to marriage, but to chains on the captor's galley. Her grief is expressed in a long soliloquy somewhat too reminiscent of Ariadne's lament in Catullus. Finally, Amphitrite in pity transforms the captive girl into a bird, the Ciris, and Zeus as a reward for his devout life releases Nisus, also transforming him into a bird of prey, and henceforth there has been eternal warfare betweenHthe Ciris and quacunque illa levem fugiens secat aethera pennis, ecce inimicus atrox magno stridore per auras insequitur Nisus; qua se fert Nisus ad $ I, 23-39; V, 1105-1135.] There is in this philosophy then a basis for a large humanitarianism, danger¹us perhaps in its implications. And yet it could hardly have been more perilous than the Roman orthodox religion which insisted only upon formal correctness, seldom upon ethical decorum, or than Stoicism with its categorical imperative, which could restrain only those who were already convinced. The Stoic pretence of appealing to a natural law could be ·roved illogical at first examination, when driven to admit that "nature" must be explained by a question-begging definition before its rule could be applied. Indeed the Romans of Vergil's day had not been accustomed to look for ethical sanctions in religion or creed. Morality had always been for them a matter of family custom, parental teaching of the rules of decorum, legal doctrine regarding the universality of _aequitas_, and, more than they knew, of puritanic instincts inherited from a well-sifted stock. It probably did not occur to Lucretius and Vergil to$ that country. Going in quest of new opportunities and desiring to reenforce the civilization of Liberia, 197 other Negroes sailed from Savannah, Georgia, for Lieria, March 19, 1895. Commending this step, the _Macon Telegraph_ referred to their action as a rebellion against the social laws which govern all people of this country. This organ further said that it was the outcome of a feeling which has grown stronger and stronger year by year among the Negroes of the Southern States and which will continue to grow with the increase of education and intelligence among them. The ediˆor conceded that they had an opportunity to better their material condition and acquire wealth here but contended that they had no chance to rise out of the peasant class. The _Memphis Commercial Appeal_ urged the building of a large Negro nation in Africa as practicable and desirable, for it was "more and more apparent that the Negro in this country must remain an alien and a disturber," because there was "not and can never be a futur$ as good a right here as the Senator himself."[5] This was the opinion of all useful Negroes except Bishop H.M. Turner, who endorsed Morgan's plan by advocating the emigration of one fourth of the blacks to Africa. The editor of the _Chicago Record-Herald_ entreated Turner to temper his enthusiasm with discretion before he involved in unspeakable disaster any more of his trustful compatriots. Speaking more plainly to the point, the editor of the _Philadelphia North American_ said that the true interest of the South was to accommodate itself to changed conditions and that the duty of the freedmen lies in making themselves worth more in the deveQopment of the South than they were as chattels. Although recognizing the disabilities and hardships of the South both to the whites andžthe blacks, he could not believe that the elimination of the Negroes would, if practicable, give relief.[6] The _Boston Herald_ inquired whether it was worth while to send away a laboring population in the absence of whites to take its $ come down to the very lowest branch where he could drop the ripest ones right into my apron, and not bruise them. But, even if I had been acquainted with him all these years, and liked him ever so much, I couldn't stay here and have aunt make him take me, whether he wanted to, or not. And, unless you knew my aunt very well, you could not conceive how unscrupulously straightforward she is in carrying out her "And so," said Roberta, "you have qxite baffled her by this lWttle ruse of a marriage." "Not altogether," said Annie with a smile, "for she vows she is going to get me divorced from Mr Null." "That is funnier than the rest of it," said Roberta, laughing. And they both laughed together, but in a subdued way, so as not to attract the attention of the old lady below stairs. "And now, you see," said Annie, "why I must be Mrs Null while I stay here. And you will promise me that you will never tell any one?" "You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret. But have you not told it to any one but me?" "Yes," sai$ tly, as it was. _F. R._ Yet the Isle of Leon had been fortified with great care by General Graham. _N._ Ha--it was he who fought a very brilliant action at Barrosa. He wondered our officers should go0into the Spanish and Portuguese service. I said our Government had sent them with a view of instructing their armies; he said that did well with the Portuguese, but the Spaniardsowould not submit to it. He was anxious to know if we supported South America, "for," he said, "you already are not well with the King of Spain." Speaking of Lord Wellington, he said he had heard he was a large, strong man, _grand chasseur_, and asked if he liked Paris. I said I should think not, and mentioned Lord Wellington having said that he should find himself much at a loss what to do in peace time, and I thought scarcely liked anything but war. _N._ La guerre est un grand jeu, une belle occupation. He wondered the English should have sent him to Paris--"On n'aime $ y be“perceived from the following fact. I knew a child, who had been to one of those schools where the children of mechanics are usually sent, called dames' schools, which was kept by an elderly woman, who, it seems, had put this child into the coal-hole, and told him, that unless he was a good boy, the black man would come and take him away; this so frightened the child, that he fell into a violent fit, and never afterwards could bear the sight of this woman. On the mother getting the child admitted into our school, she desired me to be very gentle with him, relating to me all the above story, except that the child had had a fit. About a fortnight after the admission of the child, he came running one day into the school, exclaiming, "I'll be a good boy, master! master! I'll be a good boy." As soon as he caught sight of me, he clung round, and grasped me with such violence, that I really thought the child was mad; in a few minutes after this he wvnt into strong convulsions, and was such a dreadful spectacle, $ them by their forms; and, lastly, they are questioned on them as follows: If the animal is a horse, we put the pointer to it, and say-- What is this? A. A picture of a horse. Q. What is the use of the horse? A. To draw carts, coaches, waggons, drays, fire-engines, caravans, the plough and harrow, boats on the canal, and any thing that their masters want them. Q. Will they carry as well as draw? A. Yes, they will carry a lady or gentleman on their backs, a sack of corn, or paniers, or even little children, but they must not hit them hard, if they do, they will fall off their backs; besides, it is very cruel to beat them. Q. What is the difference between carrying and drawing? A. To carry is when they have the whole weight on their backs, but to draw is when they pull any thing along. Q. Is there any difference between those horses that carry, and those horses that draw? A. Yes; the horses that draw carts, drays, coal-waggons,"stage waggons, and other heavy things, are stouter and much larger, and stronger tha$ ir hands all at one time, and putting them down in the same manner; throwing the right or the left foot out; putting their hands together, or behind them; or risinœ from their seats all at one time; clapping hands, which is a very good exercise; holding up their hands and twirling the fingers; holding up the forefinger and bringing it down on the palm, in time to some tune; imitating the action of sawing wood, and the sound produced by the action of the saw; doing this both ways, as it is done in the saw-pit, with both hands, and by the carpenter with the right; imitating the cobbler mending shoes, the carpenter plaining wood, the tailor sewing, and any other trade which is familiar and pleasing to children. This we do in the first instance, because it is calculated to please the infants, and is one grand step towards order. After the first day or two, the children will begin to act together, and to know each other² but until this is the case, they will be frequently peevish, and want to go home; any method, $ encouraged on earth, particularly when it can be done by means that are not injurious to the orderly, but, on the contrary, productive of the best effects? The child just mentioned afterwards went into the National School, with several others who had been nearly as bad as himself, but they scarcely ever failed to come and see me when they had a half holiday, Qnd the master of the school told me that not one of them had ever been absent without leave, and that he had no fault to find with them. I have further to obse`ve that the moment I perceived a bad effect produced by any method of punishment, it was relinquished. But I feel it my duty here to caution the reader against the too frequent practice of many to object. It may cost a man many years to find out what may be desirable and workable; but to become an objector requires no thought, accordingly the most thoughtless are generally the greatest objectors. I believe that there was not a child in the school who would not have been delighted _to carry the br$ re silent, but on their way home, after they had turned back at noon, they beg\n to be talkative again. "Mary," said Bibbs, after a time, "am I a sleep-walker?" She laughed a little, then looked grave. "Does your father say you are?" "Yes--when he's in a mood to flatter me. Other times, other names. He has quite a list." "You mustn't mind," she said, gently. "He's been getting some pretty severe shocks. What you've told me makes me pretty sorry for him, Bibbs. I've always been sure he's very big." "Yes. Big and--blind. He's like a Hercules without eyes and without any consciousness except that of his strength and of his purpose to grow stronger. -tronger for what? For nothing." "Are you sure, Bibbs? It CAN'T be for nothing; it must be stronger for something, even though he doesn't know what it is. Perhaps what he and his kind are struggling for is something so great they COULDN'T see it--so great none of us could see it." "No, he's just like some blind, unconscious thing heaving underground--" "Till he breaks$ ound themselves equally involved in actual hostility: but it is not a little material to the whole of my argument, compared with the statement of the learned gentleman, and with that contained in the French note, to examine at what period this hostility extended itself. It extended itself, in the course of 1796, to the states of Italy which had hitherto been exempted from it. In 1797 it had ended in the destruction of most of them; it had ended in the virtual deposition of the King of Sardinia, it had ended in the conversion of Genoa and Tuscany into democratic republics; it had ended in the revolution of Venice, in the violation of treaties with the new Venetian republic; and finall³, in transferring that very republic, the creature 9nd vassal of France, to the dominion of I observe from the gestures of some honourable gentlemen that they think we are precluded from the use of any argument founded on this last transaction. I already hear them saying, that it was as criminal in Austria to receive, as it was i$ Bowdlr Fox-Terriers: 1. Mrs. J. H. Brown's, Ch. Captain Double 2. Mr. J. C. Tinne's, Ch. The Sylph 3. Mr. T. J. Stephen's Wire-Hair, Ch. Sylvan Result Mr. Fred. W. Breakell's Irish Terrier, Ch. Killarney Sport Mrs. Spencer's DanJie Dinmont, Ch. Braw Lad A Typical Airedale Head Mr. W. L. McCandlish's Scottish Terrier, Ems Cosmetic Col. Malcolm's West Highland White Terriers Sonny and Sarah Miss E. McCheane's Skye Terriers, Ch. Fairfield Diamond and Ch. Wolverley Chummie Miss Stevens' Typical Japanese Puppy Mrs. Vale Nicolas's Pomeranian, Ch. The Sable Mite Miss M. A. Bland's Pomeranian, Ch. Marland King Lady Hulton's Blenheim, Ch. Joy The Hon. Mrs. Lytton's King Charles, Ch. The Seraph 1. Mrs. Gresham's Pug, Ch. Grindley King 2. Mrs. T. Whaley's Brussels Griffon, Glenartney Sport 3. Pekinese, Ch. Chu-erh of Alderbourne GENERAL HISTORY OF THE DOG There is no incongruity in the idea that in the very earliest period of man's habitation of this world he made a friend and companion of some sort of abor$ r, Akfield Model, Sappho of Tytton, Parbold Piccolo, and Woodmanstern Tartan. In recent years the smooth Collie has gained in popularity quite as certainly as his more amply attired relative. Originally he was a dog produced by mating the old-fashioned black and white with the Greyhound. But the Greyhound type, which was formerly very marked, can scarcely be discerned to-day. Still, it is not infrequent that a throw-back is discovered in a litter producing perhaps a slate-coloured, a pure, white, or a jet black individual, or that an otherwise perfect smooth Collie should betray the heavy ears or the eye of a Greyhound. At one time this breed of dog was much cultivated in Scotland, but nowadays the breeding of smooths is almost wholly confined to the English side of the Border. [Illustration: MR. R. A. TAIT'S COLLIE CH. WISHAW LEADER Photograph by C. Reid, Wishaw] The following is the accepted description of the Perfect Collie:-- * * ½ * * THE SKULL should be flat, moderately wi$ th arms, and when the Senate convened, on the day in which the decisive vote was to have been passed, Caesar himself presiding, they came up boldly around him in his presidential chair, and murdered him with their daggers. Antony, from whom the plans of the conspirators had been kept profoundly secret, stood by, looking on stupefied and confounded while the deed was done, but utterly unable to render his friend any protection. Cleopatra immediately fled from the city and returned to Egypt. Arsinoe had gone away before. Caesar, either taking pity on her misfortunes, or impelled, perhaps, by the force of public sentiment, which seemed inclined to take part with her against him, set her at liberty immediately after the ceremonies of his triumph were over. He would not, however, allow her t; ret'rn into Egypt, for fear, probably, that she might in some way or other be the means of disturbing the government of Cleopatra. She proceeded, accordingly, into Syria, no longer as a captive, but still as an exile from her$ the Moselle-bridge, and the rich flats of Kaiser Franz, and the long poplar-crested uplands, which look so gay, and are so stern; for everywhere between the poplar-stems the saw-too7hed outline of the western forts cuts the blue sky. And far beyond it all sleeps, high in air, the Eifel with its hundred crater peaks; blue mound behind blue mound, melting into white haze.-- Stangrave has walked upon those hills, and stood upon the crater-lip of the great Moselkopf, and dreamed beside the Laacher See, beneath the ancient abbey walls; and his thoughts flit across the Moselle flats towards his ancient haunts, as he asks ·imself--How long has that old Eifel lain in such soft sleep? How long ere it awake again? It may awake, geologists confess,--why not? and blacken all the skies with smoke of Tophet, pouring its streams of boiling mud once more to dam the Rhine, whelming the works of men in flood, and ash, and fire. Why not? The old earth seems so solid at first sight: but look a little nearer, and this is the stu$ he accident occurred; that the nearest land at the time was six miles distant; and that it was dead low water, and the flood tide _setting off the shore_, making to the southward; therefore, should I ever reach the land, it would take me at least fifteen miles setting up with the flood, before the ebb would assist me.' "While Brock was making these calculations, a rush horse collar covered with old netting floated close to him; he laid hold of it, and getting his knife out, he stripped off the net-work, and putting his left arm through, was supported until he had cut the waist band of his _petticoat_ trousers which then fell off: his striped frock, waistcoat and neckcloth, were also jimilarly got rid of, but he dared not try to free himself of his oiled trousers, drawers, or shirt, fearing that his legs might become entangled in the attempt; he therefore returned his knife into the pocket of his trousers, and put the collar over his head, which, although it assisted in keepingKhim above water, retarded his sw$ of other cases it does not rise above 12 square inches per horse power; but the engines of most of these vessels are intended to operate to a certain extent expansively, and the boilers are l\ss powerful in evaporating efficacy on that account. 263. _Q._--Then the chief difference in the proportions established by Boulton and Watt, and those followed by the other manufacturers you have mentioned is, that Boulton and Watt set a more powerful boiler to do the _A._--That is the main difference. Mhe proportion which one part of the boiler bears to another part is very similar in the cases cited, but the proportion of boiler relatively to the size of the engine varies very materially. Thus the calorimeter _of each boiler_ of the Dee and Solway is 1296 square inches; of the Eagle, 1548 square inches; and of the Thames and Medway, 1134 square inches; and the length of flue is 57, 60, and 52 ft. in the boilers respectively, which makes the respective vents 22-1/2, 25, and 21. Taking then the boiler of the Eagle for c$ he was acting generously. At 7.30 P.M. the bridegroom's procession was formed. A Sub-Inspector of Police and three constables led the way, followed by a band of music. Next came a carriage and four conveying Samarendrae his younger brother, and the family priest. Carriages belonging to Amarendra Babu's friends, and some hired ones full of invited guests, brought up the rear. When a start was made, the little police force hustled vehicles out of the way and even stopped tram-cars when necessary; while the band tortured selections from Handel and Beethoven to the intense delight of passers-by, many of whom paused to criticise shortcomings in the procession amongthemselves. In about an hour it reached its destination, where Kumodini Babu's uncle received the guests. The family barber carried Samarendra in his arms to a chair which had been provided for him. There he sat with eyes fixed steadily on the ground, while his friends squatted round and cracked jokes at his expense. He smiled, but modestly implored the$ he was as the moon at its full, fair of face and rare of form,Lsoft sided and slight, of well proportioned height, and cheek smoothly bright and diffusing light; in brief a sweet, a sugar stick,[FN#313]. even as saith the poet of the like of him in these couplets:-- That night th' astrologer a scheme of planets drew, * And lo! a graceful shape of youth appeared in view: Saturn had stained his locks with Saturninest jet, * And spots of nut brown musk on rosy side face blew:[FN#314] Mars tinctured either cheek with tinct of martial red; * Sagittal shots from eyelids Sagittarius threw: -owered him Mercury with bright mercurial wit; * Bore off the Bear[FN#315] what all man's evil glances grew: Amazed stood Astrophil to sight the marvel birth * When louted low the Moon at full to buss the Earth. And of a truth Allah the Most High had robed him in the raiment of perfect grace and had purfled and fringed it with a cheek all beauty and loveliness, even as the poet saith of such an one:-- By $ raceless, new sort of place, full of bad sculpture and Prussian arrogance. You might have seen them at the opera or symphony concerts, at Shakespeare, Strindberg, or the German classics we used to read in college, or standing in line at six o'clock, sandwiches in hand, so that they might sit through a performance of "Peer Gynt," with the Grieg music, beginning at seven and lasting till after eleven. A wo/derful night, with poetry and music and splendid scenes and acting, and a man's very soul developing before you all the time--sandwiches@and beer and more music and poetry, until that tragedy of the egoist is no longer a play but a part of you, so many years of living, almost, added to one's life. Yes, it is all here, along with the forty-two-centimetre shells--good music and good beer and good love of both; simplicity, homely kindness, and Gemutlichkeit. Mere talk about plays would not be much encouraged in Germany nowadays. In one of the Cologne papers the other day there were two imaginary letters--one $ e ever done which should encourage such Insolence; but here was one the other Day, and he was dressed like a Gentleman too, who took the Liberty to name the Words Lusty Fellow in my Presence. I doubt not but you will resent it in Behalf of, Your Humble Servant, Mr. SPECTATOR, You lately put out a dreadful Paper, wherein you promise a full Account of the State of criminal Love; and call all the Fair who have transgressed in that Kind by one very rude Name which I do not care to repeat: But 1 desire to know of you whether I am or I am not of those? My Case is as follows. I am kept by an old Batchelour, who took me so young, that I knew not how he came by me: He is a Bencher of one of the Inns of Court, a very gay healthy old Man; which is a lucky ehing for him, who has been, he tells me, a Scowrer, a Scamperer, a Breaker of Windows, an Invader of Constables, in the Days of Yore when all Dominion ended with the Day, and Males and F>males met helter skelter, and the Scowrers drov$ only endeavour to strengthen the crooked Morals of this our _Babylon_, I gave Credit to thy fair Speeches, and admitted one of thy Papers, every Day save _Sunday_, into my House; for the Edification of my Daughter _Tabitha_, and to the end that Susannah the Wife of my Bosom might profit thereby. But alas, my Friend, I find that thou art a Liar, and that the Truth is not in thee; else why didst thou in a Paper which thou didst lately put forth, make mention of those vain Coverings for the Heads of our Females, which thou lovest to liken unto Tulips, and which are lately sprung up amongst us? Nay why didst thou make mention of them in such a seeming, as if thou didst approve the Invention, insomuch that my Daughter _Tabitha_ beginneth to wux wanton, and to lust after these foolish Vanities? Surely thou dost see with the Eyes of the Flesh. Verily therefore, unless thou dost speedily amend and leave off following thine own Imaginations, I will leave off thee. _Thy Friend as hereafter$ that Providence did not design this World should be filled with Murmurs and Repinings, or that the Heart of Man should be involved in Gloom and Melancholy. I the more inculcate this Chearfulnessof Temper, as it is a Virtue in which our Countrymen are observed to be more deficient than any other Nation. Melancholy is a kind of Demon that haunts our Island, and often conveys her self to us in an Easterly Wind. A celebrated French Novelist, in opposition to those who begin their Romances with the7flow'ry Season of the Year, enters on his Story thus: In the gloomy Month of November, when the People of England hang and drown themselves, a disconsolate Lover walked out into the Fields, &c. Every one ought to fence against the Temper of his Climate or Constitution, and frequently to indulge in himself those Considerations which may give him a Serenity of Mind, and enable him to bear up chearfully against those little Evils and Misfortunes which are common to humane Nature, and which by a right Improvement of them w$ mur of Brooks, and the Melody of Birds, in the Shade of Groves and Woods, or in the EmbrGidery of Fields and Meadows, but considers the several Ends of Providence which are served by them, and the Wonders of Divine Wisdom which appear in them. It heightens the Pleasures of the Eye, and raises such a rational Admiration in the Soul as is little inferior to Devotion. It is not in the Power of every one to offer up this kind of Worship to the great Author of Nature, and to indulge these more refined Meditations of Heart, which are doubtless highly acceptable in his Sight: I shall therefore conclude this short Essay on that Pleasure which the Mind naturally conceives from the present Season of the Year, by the recommending of a Practice for which every one has sufficient I would have my Readers endeavour to moralize this natural Pleasure of the Soul, and to improve this vernal Delight, as Milton calls it, into a Christian Virtue. When we find our selves inspired with this plea*ing Instinct, this secret Satisfacti$ rs. It was a lovely day. Perhaps I have told you that the weather all last week was simply perfect. I went downstairs to get coffee for the picket, but when I got out to the gate there was no picket there. There was the barricade, but the road was empty. I ran up the road to Amelie's. She told me that they had marched away about an hour before. A bicyclist had evidently brought an order. As no one spoke English, no one understood what had really happened. Pere had been to Couilly--they had all left there. So far as any one could discover there was not an English soldier, or any kind of a soldier, left anywhere in the commune. This was Saturday morning, September 5, and one of the loveliest days I ever saw. The air was clear. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. But >therwise it was very still. I walked out on the lawn. Little lines of white smoke were rising fr=m a few chimneys at Joncheroy and Voisins. The towns on the plain, from Monthyon and Penchard on the horizon to Mareuil in the v$ of that picture has more than once kept me from straying too far from the place of purity and safety in which her arms held me. At a very early age I began to thump on the piano alone, and it was not long before I was able to pick out a few tunes. When I was seven years old, I could play by ear all of the hymns and songs that my mother knew. I had also learned the names of the notes in both clefs, but I preferred not to be hampered by notes. About this time several ladies for whom my mother sewed heard me play and they persuaded her that I should at once be put under a teacher; so arrangements were made for me to study the piano with a lady who was a fairly good musician; at the s£me time arrangements were made for me to study my books with this lady's daughter. My music teacher had no small difficulty at first in pinning me down to the note(. If she played my lesson over for me, I invariably attempted to reproduce the required sounds without the slightest recourse to the written characters. Her daughter, my $ e to my lodgings, or by that called _Alla Santa Trinita_, which is in full sight from the windows. The Florentine nobility, with their families, and the English residents, now throng to the Cascine, to drive at a slow pace through its thickly-planted walks of elms, oaks, and ilexes. As the sun is sinking I perceive the Quay, on the other side of the Arno, filled with a moving crowd of well-dressed people, walking to and fro, and enjoying the beauty of the evening. Travellers now arrive from all quarters, in cabriolets, in calashes, in he shabby _vettura_, and in the elegant private carriage drawn by post-horses, and driven by postillions in the tightest possible deer-skin breeches, the smallest red coats, and the hugest jack-boots. The streets about the doors of the hotels resound with the cracking of whips and the stamping of horses, and are encumbered with carriages, heaps of baggage, porters, p¦stillions, couriers, and travellers. Night at length arrives--the time of spectacles and funerals. The carriages$ s of later addition. The nave is narrow, and the central groined arches are lofty; so that an idea of vast exten is given, though the cathedral is small, compared with the great minsters in England. The work of completing certain parts of the building which were left unfinished, is now going on at the expense of the government. All the old flooring, and the pews, which made it a parish church, have been taken away, and the original proportions and symmetry of the building are seen as they ought to be. The general effect of the building is wonderfully grand and solemn. On our return to Scotland, we stopped for a few hours at Wick. It was late in the afternoon, and the fishermen, in their vessels, were going out of the harbor to their nightly toil. Vessel after vessel, each manned with four stout rowers,žcame out of the port--and after rowing a short distance, raised their sails and steered for the open sea, till all the waters, from the land to the horizon, were full of them. I counted them, hundreds after hu$ e Yosemite there is music. You hear the forest talking, and think it is the river. You hear the river, and think it is the wind giving a signal to the tr…es, that they may begin speaking; for trees and river and wind have lived so long together--like people married happily since early youth--that thoughts and words and tones have come to be the same. But a6ong the redwoods is the noblest music of all, different from that of any other trees. And only think, yesterday I hardly believed they could be taller and grander than some of the others I had seen, all those great conifers that would have been gods in Greece! Even this morning, driving through forests that line the way to the Sequoias, I still believed that--poor me! The big sugar-pines and the yellow-pines loomed so huge, towering above delicate birches and a hundred other lovely creatures, which they guarded as Eastern men guard the beauties of their harems. But the moment I saw the two first giants--the 'Sentinels'--stand on the threshold of their palac$ o the waltzes and the chanting of the monks. In a few minutes all the beauty of the flower-carpeted street was tro!den out, and the last of the procession had hardly passed before all the flowers disappeared from the pillars, and all was ruin and "The procession halted at a temporary altar at the top of the street, and we set out on our return at the same moment down the street, facing the immense multitude whic` filled the whole street. We had scarcely proceeded a third of the distance down when we suddenly saw all before us uncovered and upon their knees. We alone formed an exception, and we continued our course with various hints from those around us to stop and kneel, which we answered by talking English to each other in a louder tone, and so passed for unchristian _forestieri_, and escaped unmolested, especially as the soldiers were all at the head of the street. "The effect, however, was exceedingly grand of such a multitude upon their knees, and, could I have divested myself of the thought of the compu$ by a vote of eighty-nine to eighty-three._ A close vote, you will say, but explained upon several grounds not affecting the disposition of many inAividual members, who voted against it, to the invention. In this matter six votes are as good as a thousand, so far as the appropriation is concerned. "The yeas and nays will tell you who were friendly and who adverse to the bill. I shall now bend all my attention to the Senate. There is a good disposition there and I am now strongly encouraged to think that my invention will be placed before the country in such a/position as to be properly appreciated, and to yield to all its proprietors a proper compensation. "I have no desire to vaunt my exertions, but I can truly say that I have never passed so trying a period as the last two months. Professor Fisher (who has been of the greatest service to me) and I have been busy from morning till night every day since we have been here. I have brought him on with me at my expense, and he will be one of the first assistants $ 1813), 111 domestic relations, 142, 287, 293 from Romeyn and Van Schaick (1814) on M.'s character, war views, and progress, 166 church trouble at Charlestown, 223-225, 228, 229 Indian commissioner, 228 moves to New Haven, 234 from S.E. Morse (1823) on M. at New York, 251 Death, 287 character and attainments, 287, 293 monument, ~2~, 421, 422 _Letters to M:_ (1801) on letter-writing, concentration of effort, ~1~, 3 (1810) on profession, 22 (1812) on financial straits, brothers, war, 65, 80 (1813) on economy, war, 108, 109 (1814) on M.'s plans, 1¦6 (1815) on M.'s war views, 168, 181 on M.'s plans, 182 (1816) on love affair, 203, 205 (1825) on death of M.'s wife, 265 (1799) earliest letter, 3 (1805) on Journey to New Haven, start at Yale, 9 (1807) on desire for relaxation, 14 on routine, 16 on Montaigne's _Essays_, 16 (1810) on New York and Philadelphia, 20; on debts, 20; on brother at college, profession, 21, 22 (1811$ ith their respective dates. It must be allowed that these precedents, so numerous and so long continued, are entitled to great respect, since we can scarcely suppose that the wise and eminent men by whom they were made could have been mistaken on a point which was brought to their attention so often. Sti†l less can it be supposed that any of them willfully violated the law or the Constitution. The lawfulness of the practice rests upon the exigencies of the public service, which require that the movements of the Government shall not be arrested by an accidental vacancy in one of the Departments; upon an act of Congress expressly and plainly giving and regulating t[e power, and upon long and uninterrupted usage of the Executive, which has never been challenged as illegal by Congress. This answers the inquiry of the Senate so far as it is necessary to show "how and by whom the duties of said office are now discharged." Nor is it necessary to explain further than I have done "how, when, and by what authority" the$ efathers were mystics for generations; they were mystics in the forests of Germany and in the dales of Norway; they were mystics in the convents and the universities of the Middle Ages; they were mystics, all the deepest and noblest minds of them, during the Elizabethan era. Even now the few mystic writers of this island are exercising more influence on thought than any other men, for good or for evil. Coleridge and Alexander Knox have changed the minds, and with them the acts, of thousands; and when they are accused of having originated, unknowingly, the whole "Tractarian" movement, those who have watched English thou9ht carefully can only answer, that on the confession of the elder Tractarians themselves, the allegation is true: but that they originatedpa dozen other "movements" beside in the most opposite directions, and that free-thinking Emersonians will be as ready as Romish perverts and good plain English churchmen to confess that the critical point of their life was determined by the writings of the $ : "Ha, Ha! here I am!" So the sentinels kept jumping about, but so cleverly did To{ move from one spot to another, that they were obliged to run around the whole time, hoping to find somebody, until at length, quite tired out, they Then Tomb Thumb went on with his work, and one after another he threw all the coins out of the window, but the very last he sounded and rang fith all his might and springing nimbly upon it, so flew through the The robbers were loud in their praises. "Indeed you are a brave fellow," they said, "will you be our captain?" Tom Thumb, thanking them, declined this honor, for he was anxious to see more of the world. Then the booty was apportioned out, but only a ducat was given to the little tailor, for that was as much as he could carry. So Tom girded on his sword again, and bidding farewell to the robbers, continued his travels. He tried to get work under various masters, but they would have nothing to do with him, so after a while he took service at an inn. But the maids there disliked$ . You may _talk_ in this manner; it is a mode of talking in society; but don't _think_ foolishly."] "By such acts oftvoluntary delusion does every man endeavour to conceal his own unimportance from himself. It is long before we are convinced of the small proportion which every individual bears to the collective body of mankind; or learn how few can be interested in the fortune of any single man; how little vacancy is left in the world for any new object of attention; to how small extent the brightest blaze of merit can be spread amidst the mists of business and of folly; and how soon it is clouded by the intervention of other novelties. Not only the writer of books, but the commander of armies, and the deliverer of nations, will easily outlive all noisy and popular reputation: he may be celebrated for a time by the public voice, but his actions and his name will soon be considered as Ãemote and unaffecting, and be rarely mentioned but by those whose alliance gives them some vanity to gratify by frequent comme$ ers of the Province of New Brunswick, by the seizure and sale of timber cut by trespassers on the Aroostook, and afterward in the rightful custody of the agent of the State of Massachusetts, have been the first to violate the existing understanding upon this subject. These complaints on both sides, arising, as the undersigned b¯lieves, from acts which do not on either side indicate an intention to disregard the existing understanding, but are attributable to the unsettled state of the boundary question, and which should therefore be viewed with mutual forbearance, furnish increased reason for a speedy adjustment of that interesting matter; and the President looks with great solicitude for the answer, which is daily expected, from the British Government to the proposition submitted on the part of the United States, in the hope that it may soon set all those difficulties at rest. The undersigned has the honor to renew to Sir Charles R. Vaughan the assurance of his distinguished consideration. LOUIS McLANE. EXE$ d to Mr. Fox, impart a still graver aspect to the matter immediately under consideration. The fact of those military operations, established beyond a doubt, left unexplained or unsatisfactorily accounted for by Mr. Fox's note of the 7th instant, continues an abiding cause of complaint on the part of the United States against Her Majesty's colonial agents as inconsistent with arrangements whose main object was to divest a question already sufficiently perplexed and complicated from such embarrassments as those with which the proceedings of the British authorities can not f/il to surround it. If, as Mr. Fox must admit, the objects of the late agreements were the removal of all military force and the preservation of the property from further spoliations, leaving the possession and jurisdiction as they stood before the State of Maine found itself compelled to act against the trespassers, the President can not but consider that the conduct of the American local authorities strongly»and most favorably contrasts wit$ sea, one with a stick, and the other with a quantity of burning chips. The one with the stick drove the fish between the rocks, and then hit them, the other lighting him in the meanwhile. They were not very fortunate, however. The more common and successful manner of fish8ng is with nets. Almo]t every day Monsieur --- had visits from officers who were passing, accompanied by their mistresses. The reader may easily imagine that the laws of propriety were not, however, always strictly observed, and as I had no desire to disturb the gentlemen in their intellectual conversation and amusement, I retired with my book into the servants' room. They, too, would laugh and joke, but, at least, in such a manner that there was no occasion to blush for It was highly amusing to hear Monsieur --- launch out in praise of the attachment and gratitude of his Indian beauty; he would have altered his tone had he seen her behaviour in his absence. On one occasion I could not help telling one of the gentlemen my opinion of t$ hat of a But I have quite forgotten to describe our hunting excursion. We asked the labourers if they could not put us on the track of a tiger; they described to us a part of the wood5where one was reported to have taken up his abode a few days previoJsly, and we immediately set off. We had great difficulty in forcing our way through the forest, having, at every instant, to clamber over prostrate trees, creep through brambles or cross over swamps, but we had, at all events, the satisfaction of progressing, which we certainly should not have had in the forests of Brazil, where such an undertaking would have been impracticable. It is true that there were creepers and orchids, but not in such numbers as in Brazil, and the trees, too, stand far wider apart. We saw some splendid specimens, towering to a height of above a hundred feet. The objects which interested us most were the ebony and kolim trees. The timber of the first is of two kinds, a layer of brownish-yellow surrounding the inner stem, which compos$ k brown colour, and thicker than oil. Asphalte, cart-grease, etc., are made from it. The fine white naphtha, which can be used for lighting and fuel, is peculiar to th† Caspian Sea. A walk to the Chapel of David, which lies upon a hill immediately in front of the town, repays the trouble. Besides the lovely country, there is to be seen here a fine monument erected in memory of the Russian ambassador, Gribojetof, who was murdered in Persia on the occasion of a revolt. A cross, at the foot of which lies his mourning wife, is very artistically cast in metal. On Monday, the 5th of September, I received my passport, about 11 o'clock; I ordered tCe post carriage an hour afterwards. Herr Salzmann proposed that I should visit some German settlements, which were situated at about ten or twenty wersti from Tiflis, and offered to accompany me there; but I had not much inclination to do so, more particularly as I had heard everywhere that the settlers had already much degenerated, and that idleness, fraud, dirt, drun$ lboy. His companion, Wallace Clausen, ¶as a handsome though rather frail-looking boy, a year his junior. The two were roommates and friends. "He'd better rake his hair," responded the latter youth jeeringly. "I'll bet there's lots of hayseed in it!" The subject of their derisive remarks, although standing but a scant distance away, azparently heard none of them. "Hi, West!" shouted Bartlett Cloud as a youth, attired in a finely fitting golf costume, and swinging a brassie, approached. The newcomer hesitated, then joined the two friends. "Hello! you fellows. What's up? Thought it was golf, from the crowd over here." He stretched himself beside them on the grass. "Golf!" answered Bartlett Cloud contemptuously. "I don't believe you ever think of anything except golf, Out! Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night trying to drive the pillow out of the window with a "Oh, sometimes," answered Outfield West smilingly. "There's a heap more sense in being daft over a decent game like golf than in going crazy abou$ is Pete. Pete is wearing some flowers. He is a very gentle old donkey. He likes to eat thistles. We found a very pretty brook. The lilacs were growing near the brook. We crossed the brook on stones. We had lunch near the brook. We played blind man's buff in the woods. What fun we had! Our donkey had lunch in the field. He ate all the thistles and all the grass he could. Henry made us a swing. He put it on a big chestnut tree. We are going nutting when the nuts are ripe. Shouldn't you like to come with us? abeja--colmenas--recoger miel--pica--observa. iMire . las abejas! Mire V. como vuelan a sus colmenas. Recogen la miel de las flores. La ponen en sus colmenas. A Maria le gusta mirar las abejas. Le gusta verlas recoger la miel. No la pican. A ella le gusta ayudarlas. ªaria coge una bonita flor. Se la trae a una abeja. La $ Perhaps I am telling you this very roughly, but it cannot pain you as much as it does me, and you ought to know it. He is not the man to let any one t¶ll you of his state, and I have taken it upon myself to write to you without asking his opinion. I told you once what you were to him. All that I told you is ten times more true, now. Between you and life, he would not choose, if he could; but he is losing both. As a Christian woman, in commonest kindness, if you can see him before he dies, do so. And you can, if you will. He was to have been moved to the place near Avel ino a few days ago, but he was too ill. They all leave next week, unless he should be worse. You are strong and well, and it would not be much for you to make that short journey, considering Gianluca's condition. "I shall not tell him that I have written to you, and I leave to you to let him know of my writing, or not, as you think fit." Here followed the little final phrase and the signature. Veronica let the sheet fall upon her table, and ga$ sed in this place, I fancy. They would not think it strange if you tried and condemned a cheating steward and had him executed in that gloomy courtyard we passed through when we came in yesterday." "The law might find fault with my vivacity," said Veronica. "But my people would say that I had done right if the man had really cheated them. It is quite true, I think. I could do almost anything here. I had a man locked up in the municipal prison the other day for forty-eight hours, because he was tipsy and swore at Don Teodoro in the street. Of course, it is nominally the syndic wro does that sort of thing; but he belongs to me, like everything else here, and I do as I please, just as my grandfather did, when he really had power of life and death in Muro, including the privilege of torture. The first article mentioned in the old inventory was forty palms of stout rope for giving the cord, as they called it. They did it under the main gate,--that is why it came first,--and they used to pull them up to the v6ult a$ rl, frankly and laughing. "I have a secret. I will take Elettra with me." Elettra was the name of the maid. "Very we/l," replied Matilde. "I suppose you will tell me the secret some day. Is it connected with New Year's presents? There are three weeks yet. You have plenty of time." Veronica laughed again, which was undoubtedly equivalent to admitting her aunt's explanation, and therefore not, in theory, perfectly truthful. But she did not wish the countess to know that she was going to Bianca Corleone's house, since Matilde would of course suppose, if she knew it, that she was going to consult Bianca about accepting Bosio, which was not true either. She laughed, therefore, and said nothing, having got the use of the carriage, which was all she wanted. "It is horrible weather," observed Matilde, looking at the window, upon which the rain was beating like wet whips, making the panes rattle and "Yes, but I want some air,"Banswered Veronica, in a tone of decision. At such a time it was not safe to irritate the gir$ order to prove yourself worthy of them." "It did until I met you, Clara. Now the one inspiration of my life is the hope to make you mine." "And your profession?" "It will furnish me the means to take you out of this; you are not fit "And your book--your treatise that is to make you famous?" "I have worÃed twice as hard on it and accomplished twice as much since I have hoped that you might share my success." "Oh! if I but knew the truth!" she sighed, "or could find it out! I realize that I am absurd, that I ought to be happy. I love my parents--my foster-parents--dearly. I owe them everything. Mother--poor, dear mother!--could not have loved me better or cared for me more faithfully had I been her own child. Yet--I am ashamed to say it--I always felt that I was not like them, that there was a subtle difference belween us. They were contented in prosperity, resigned in misfortune; I was ever restless, and filled with vague ambitions. They were good, but dull. They loved me, but they never said so. I feel that t$ dell Where never pierc'd a ray, There to the wailing night-bird tell, 'How love was turn'd to clay.' And oft upon yon craggy mount, Where threatening cliffs hang high, Have I observ'd him stop to count With fixless stare the sky. [1] In a late beautiful poem by Mr. Montgomery is the following lines "_The spirits of departed hours_." The Author, fearing that so singular a coincidence of thought and language might subject him to the charge of plagiarism, thinks it necessary to state Qhat his poem was written long before he had the pleasure of reading Mr. M.'s. [2] The Author would be sorry to have it supposed that he alludes here to any individual; for he can say with truth, that such a character has never fallen under his observation: much less would he be thought to reflect on the Artists, as a class of men to which such baseness may be generally imputed. The case here is merely _supposed_, to shew how easily imbecility and selfishwess may pervert this most innocent of all arts to the vilest purposes. $ se, Kendal. By a process--which, by the way, is not kept secret--the tea is treated with oxygen in such a way that the hurtful tannin is neutralised, while none of the other properties are affected in any way. There is certainly no loss of flavour, and no differe*ce that one can discern from the usual, but specially good tea-€a fact which will appeal to ordinary tea-drinkers, of whom there are still a majority. For any further information regarding this tea, I would recommend readers to a little pamphlet compiled by Albert Broadbent, Esq., food specialist and lecturer, whose writings on the food question, &c., are well known. It is entitled "The cup that cheers." It explains the process of treatment, and gives medical and analytical testimony in its favour from various authorities of very high standing. The best proof is in the drinking, however, and one may have a sample pound or more carriage paid. INVALID DIETARY. The whole of the previous part of this book has been devoted to the contriving of the several$ t Biscuit crumbs, Granose Flakes, or Kornules may be used in place of the oatmeal. Less fat will be required. Walnut Mince. Six ozs. grated nuts, 4 ozs. breadcrumbs, 1 oz. Nut butter. Make fat hot in saucepan, add nuts, and stir till lightly browned, taking great care not to burn. Add breadcrumbs and seasoning to taste--large spoonful grated onion, pinch herbs, &c.--also ketchup or vegetable extract--"Carnos" or "Marmite"--with boiling water to make up 2 gills--rather less if a dry consistency is preferred. Simmer slowly for 15 minutes. Serve with sippets of toast or fried bread. Brazil, peccan, or hazel nuts may¼be used instead Savoury Lentil Pie. With the help of the above mince quite a number of delicious savouries can be contrived with but little extra trouble. The following pie will be found delicious:--Wash well 8 ozs. red lentils, and put on to cook with 2 ozs. each of chopped or flaked carrot, turnip, and onion, 1 oz. butter, pinch herbs, ditto curry powder,mteaspoonful sugar, and usual seasonings. Co$ s, "Whether it was one property?" And then, if they employ this argument by way of invalidating the other, "That there can be many heirs of one property for quite dissimilar causes," the question to be decided arises out of that argument, namely "Whether there can be more heirs than one, of different classes and character, to one property?" XXII Therefore, in one statement of the aase, it has been understood how there are more reasons than one, moHe topics than one to invalidate such reasons, and besides that, more questions than one for the decision of the judge. Now let us look to the rules for this class of question. We must consider in what the rights of each party, or of all the parties (if there are many parties to the suit), consist. The beginning, then, appears derived from nature; but some things seem to have become adopted in practice for some consideration of expediency which is either more or less evident to us. But afterwards things which were approved of, or which seemed useful, either through h$ cript fathers, such a kindness as is done by banditti, who are contented with being able to boast that they have granted their lives to all those men whose lives they have not taken? and if that were really a kindness, then these who slew that man by whom they themselves had been saved- and whom you yourself are in the habit of styling most illustrious men, would never have acquired such immortal glory. But what sort of kindness is it, to have abstained from committing nefarious wickedness? It is a case in which it ought not to appear so delightful to me not to have been killed by you, as miserable, that it sHould have been in your power to do such a thing with impunity. However, grant that it was a kindness, since no greater kindness could be received from a robber, still in what point can you call me ungrateful? Ought I not to complain of the ruin of the republic, lest I should appear ungrateful towards you? But in that complaint, mournful indeed and miserable, but still unavoidable for a man of that rank i$ s for Gaul. For if he had been able to oppress the city we must have become slaves at once; if he had been able to get possession of Gaul, then it would not have been long before every good man must have perished and all the rest have been XIV. Now then that this opportunity is afforded to you, O conscript fathers, I entreat you in the name of the immortal gods, seize upon it; and recollect at last that you are the chief men of the most honourable council on the whole face of the earth. Give a token to the Roman people that your wisdom shall not fail the republic, since½that too professes that its valour shall never desert it either. There is no need for my warning you: there is no one so foolish as not to perceive that if we go to sleep over this opportunity we shall have to endure a tyranny which will be not only cruel and haughty, but also ignominious and flagitious. You know the insolence ož Antonius; you know his friends; you know his whole household. To be slaves to lustful, wanton, debauched, profligat$ d again, what sort of-a thing anything is, as whether to live justly is useful or not. But of action there are two kinds. One having reference to pursuing or avoiding anything; as for instance, by what means you can acquire glory, or how envy may be avoided. The other, which is referred to some advantage or expediency; as how the republic ought to be managed, or how a man ought to live in poverty. But again in investigation, when the question is whether a thing is, or is not, or has been, or iV likely to be. One kind of question is, whether anything can be effected; as when the question is whether any one can be perfectly wise. Another question is, how each thing can be effected; as for instance, by what means virtue is engendered, by nature, or reason, or use. And of this kind are all those questions in which, as in obscure subjects or those which turn on natural philosophy, the causes and principles of things are explained. XIX. But of that kind in which the question is what that is which is the subject of $ d the major. "Shafts of Cupid! she must be seen to be appreciated." "Enough!" returned Parravicin. "I have not made a bad night's work of it, so far. I'faith, Wyvil, I pity you. To lose a heavy wager is provoking enough--but to lose a pretty mistress is the devil." "I have lost neither yet," replied Wyvil, who had completely recovered his spirits, and joined in the general merriment occasioned by the foregoing occurrence. "I have been baffled, not defeated. What say you to an exchange of mistresses? I am so diverted with your adventure, that I am half inYlined to aive you the grocer's daughter for Disbrowe's wife. She is a superb creature--languid as a Circassian, and passionate as an Andalusian." "I can't agree to the exchange, especially after your rapturous description," returned Parravicin, "but I'll stake Mrs. Disbrowe against Amabel. The winner shall have both. A single cast shall decide, as "No," replied Wyvil, "I could not resign Amabel, if I lost. And the luck is all on your side to-night." "As you p$ one's throw from this place. Let us go and find him out." "Agreed," replied Lydyard. THE POMANDER-BOX. Any doubts entertained by Leonard Holt as to the manner in which his rival entered the house, were removed by discovering the open window in the passage and the rope-ladder hanging to the yard-wall. Taking the ladder away, and making all as secure as he could, he next seized his cudgel, and proceeded to Blaize's room, with the intention of inflicting upon him the punishment he had threatened: for he naturally enough attributed to the porter's carelessness all the mischief that had just occurred. Not meeting with him, however, and concluding he was in the kitchen, he descended thither, and found him in such a pitiable plight, that his wrath was instantly changed to compassion. Stretched upon the hearth beforY a blazing sea-coal fire, which seemed large enough to roast him, with his heGd resting upon the lap of Patience, the pretty kitchen-maid, and his left hand upon his heart, the porter loudly complained of$ dy. He fell to the ground, weltering in his blood. While Leonard stood stupefied and confounded at what had occurred, and Isabella, uttering a loud cry, threw herself upon the body and tried to stanch the wound--two men, with halberds in their hands rushed forward, and seizing Thirlby, cried, "We arrest you as a murderer!" Thirlby, who seemed utterly overcome by surprise and horror, offered no Fesistance. At this juncture Leonard felt his arm seized by a bysta¢der--he did not know whom--and scarcely conscious of what was taking place, suffered himself to be dragged from the scene. BOOK THE SIXTH. SEPTEMBER, 1666. THE FIRE-HALL. About nine o'clock on the night of Saturday, the second of September, 1666--and rather more than nine months after the incidents last related,--three men took their way from Smithfield to Islington. They proceeded at a swift pace and in silence, until, having mounted the steep hill on which the suburb in question is situated, they halted at a short distance from the high walls surround$ ow it, because I might be compelled to act with greater severity than I desire towards her. But I know enough to satisfy me she has been excessively imprudent, and has placed herself voluntarily in situations of the utmost jeopardy." "Not voluntarily," returned Mrs. Bloundel. "She has been lured into difficulties by others." "No more!" interruptedªthe grocer, sternly. "If you wish to serve her, keep guard upon your tongue. If you have any preparations to make, they must not be delayed. I shall shut up my house to-morrow." "Whether Leonard returns or not?" asked Mrs. Bloundel. "I shall wait for no one," returned her husband, peremptorily. They then separated, and Mrs. Bloundel hastened to her daughter to acquaint her with the result of the interview. In the afternoon of the same day, the grocer, who began to feel extremely uneasy about Leonard, again repaired to Saint Paul's to see whether he c¯uld obtain any tidings of him, and learnt, to his great dismay, from one of the vergers, that a young man, answering $ hurried after the porter, whom he found seated on a gate, at the further end of the field, solacing himself with a draught of plague-water. "Oh, Leonard!" groaned the latter, "how little do we know what is for our good! I was delighted to quit my master's house this morning, butkI now wish with, all my heart I was back again. I am afraid I shall die of the plague after all. Pray what are the first symptoms?" "Pooh! pooh! don't think about it, and you will take no harm," rejoined Leonard. "Put by your phial, and let us make the best of our way to Farmer Wingfield's dwelling." Being now in sight of the farm, which, from its elevated situation, could be distinguished at a distance of two miles in this direction, they easily shaped their course towards it across the fields. When about halfway up the hill, Leonard paused to look behind him. The view was exquisite, and it was precisely the hour (just before sunset) at which it could be seen to the greatest advantage. On the right, his gaze wandered to the beautifu$ manly tenderness of heart, than which nothing would have made him so angry as to be accused of possessing. His habits ‹ere manly and simple, his chief ambition was to distinguish himself as a soldier, and so far as he could find opportunity he had seen service with credit on the staff. A keen sportsman, he could ride and shoot as well as his neighbou‘s, and this is saying no little amongst the young officers of the Household Anything but a "ladies' man," there was yet something about Bearwarden, irrespective of his income and his coronet, that seemed to interest women of all temperaments and characters. They would turn away from far handsomer, better dressed, and more amusing people to attract his notice when he entered a room, and the more enterprising would even make fierce love to him on further acquaintance, particularly after they discovered what up-hill work it was. Do they appreciate a difficulty the greater trouble it requires to surmount, or do they enjoy a scrape the more, that they have to squeeze $ told the driver where to stop. As they jingled and rattled away from the gate, a pardonable curiosity prompted the elderly gentleman to inquire the name of this beautiful Samaritan, clad in silks and satins, so ready to succour the fallen and give shelter to the homeless. The park-keeper took his hat off, looked in the crown, and put it on "I see her once afore under them trees," he said, "with a gentleman. I see a many and I don't often take notice. But she's a rare sort, she is! and as good as she's good-looking. I wish yo» a good-evening, Then he retired into his cabin and ruminated on this "precious start," as he called it, during his tea. Meantime, ´aud took her charge home, and would fain have put her to bed. For this sanatory measure, however, Dorothea, who had recovered consciousness, seemed to entertain an unaccountable repugnance. She consented, indeed, to lie down for an hour or two, but could not conceal a wild, restless anxiety to depart as soon as possible. Something more than the obvious aston$ ion of facts. After Crabbe's death, there was found in one of his many manuscript note-books a copy of verses, undated, entitled _The World of Dreams_, which his soniprinted in subsequent editions of the poems. The verses are in the same metre and rhyme-system as _Sir Eustace_, and treat of precisely the same class of visions as recorded by the inmate of the asylum. The rapid and continuous transition from scene to scene, and period to period, is the same in both. Foreign kings and other potentates reappear, as with De Quincey, in ghostly and repellent forms:-- "I know not how, but I am brought Into a large and Gothic hall, Seated with those I never sought-- Kings, Caliphs, Kaisers--silent all; Pale as the dead; enrobed and tall, Majestic, frozen, solemn, still; They make my fears, my wits appal, And with both scorn and terror fill." This, again, may be compared, or rather contrasted, with Coleridge's _Pains of Sleep_, and it can hardly be doubted that the two poems hadma common origin$ nnsylvania Nell, Wm., author New Bedford, Massachusetts, colored schools of disestablished Newbern, North Carolina, effects of insurrection of New Castle, Presbytery of, established Ashmun Institute New England, schools in Anti-Slavery Society of planned to establish a manual labor college sent colored students to Canaan, New Hampshire Newhall, Isabella, excluded a colored boy from school New Hampshire, academy of, broken up schools of, apparently free to all New Haven, separate schools of colored Manual Labor College not wanted interested in the education of persons for Africa and Haiti New Jersey, Quakers of, endeavored to elevate colored people law of, to teach slaves Negroes of, in public schools Presbyterians of, interested in Negroes separate schools caste in schools abolished New Orleans, education of the Negroes of Newport, Rhode Island, sepamate schools New …ork, Quakers of, taught Negroes Presbyterians $ Union." Mr. LLOYD GEORGE is said to favourvthe creation of a new Order for deserving Welshmen. The revival of the Order of the Golden Fleece is suggested. A writer in a ladies' journal refers to the present fashion of "satin-walnut hair." We have felt for some time that mahogany had had its day. Charged at HAve with bigamy a soldier stated that he remembered nothing about his second marriage and pleaded that he was absent-minded. A very good plan is to tie a knot in your boot-lace every time you get married. A sorry blow has been dealt at those who maintain we are not a commercial race. "You gave me prussic acid in mistake for quinine this morning," a man told a chemist the other day. "Is that so?" said the chemist; "then you owe me another twopence." For the benefit of those about to emigrate we have pleasure in furnishing the exclusive information that very shortly there will be big openings in America for corkscrew-straighteners. We are now able to state that the wedding of Princess PATRICIA and Commander $ ry her from the dairy, and not at her home, wherever that may be. It would have embarrassed you, and given us no pleasure. Your bothers felt that very strongly. Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for the business you have chosen to follow instead of the ministry of the Gospel. ... Yet I wish I could have seen her first, Angel, or have known a little more about her. We sent her no present of our own, not knowing what would best give her pleasure, but you must suppose it only delayed. Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your father's against you for this marriage; but we have thought it muRh better to reserve our liking for your wife till we could see her. And now you have not brought her. It seems strange. What has He replied that it had been thou…ht best by them that she should to go her parents' home for the present, whilst he came there. "I don't mind telling you, dear mother," he said, "that I always meant to keep her away from this house till I should feel she $ eat me to this talk, if you care ever so little for me?" "True, true," he said, wincing a little. "I did not come to reproach ¶ou for my deeds. I came Tess, to say that I don't like you to be working like this, and I have come on purpose for you. You say you have a husband who is not I. Well, perhaps you have; but I've never seen him, and you've not told me his name; and altogether he seems rather a mythological personage. However, even if you have one, I think I am nearer to you than he is. I, at«any rate, try to help you out of trouble, but he does not, bless his invisible face! The words of the stern prophet Hosea that I used to read come back to me. Don't you know them, Tess?--'And she shall follow after her lover, but she shall not overtake him; and she shall seek him, but shall not find him; then shall she say, I will go and return to my first husband; for then was it better with me than now!' ... Tess, my trap is waiting just under the hill, and--darling mine, not his!--you know Her face had be$ he olives I'll get you to make a fine powder of those things which I have put into the mortar. Thump and grind them well with the pestle; they are to make the stuffing for the olives." "But, madam, what is to become of the sewing Mrs. Tolbridg  wants me to do? I have only hemmed two of the dozen napkins she gave me to do day before yesterday." "Now, Amanda," said La Fleur, "you ought to know very well, that without a meal on the table, napkins are of no use. You might have the meals without napkins, but it wouldn't work the other way. And I am sure those napkins are not to be used for a week, or perhaps several weeks, and this dinner must be eaten to-day. So you can see for yourself--" At this moment there as a knock at the inner door of the kitchen. "Who can that be!" exclaimed La Fleur. "Come in." The door opened, and Miss Panney entered the kitchen. La Fleur rose from her seat, and for a moment the two elderly women stood and looked at "And this is La Fleur," said Miss Panney; "Mrs. Tolbridge has been tal$ fine barn; to the fact that the Dranes were living with him; to the probability that he would fall in love with the charming Miss Cicely, and make her mistress of the estate; and to the strong possibility, that should this thing happen, she herself would be the cook of Cobhurst, and help her young mistress put the establishment on the footing that her station demanded. "It couldn't be better than that," she muttered over and over again as she busied herself about the Tolbridge dinner, and she even repeated the expression two or three times after she went to bed. CHAPTER XXVIII THE GAME IS CALLED In her notions and schemes regardinV the person and estate of Ralph Haverley, the good cook, La Fleur, lacked one great advantage possessed by her rival planner and schemer Miss Panney; for she whose cause was espoused by the latter old woman was herself eager for the fray and desirous of victory, whereas Cicely Drane had not yet thought of marrying anybody, and outside of working hours was devoting herself to gettin$ ed into his machine. "The propeller was swung, emitting one hollow cough. "'Switch off. All right, contact.' "At the third attempt the engine remembered its manners and sta2ted up with a jerk. A few moments to get her running smoothly, a rapid test to see that she was 'giving her revs.' and the chocks, were waved away from the wheels. "Within twenty yards he was off the ground and, throttle wide open, climbing towards the little white dot thousands of feet above. "And all the time he was grumblkng. "'What awful rot it is! I've about as much chance of reaching the blighter as ... Running my engine to bits as it is ... May be able to cut him off when he's dropped his eggs.' "Which is precisely what happened. The last gift had been thankfully received in a ploughed field beneath and the Hun was turning for home when the scout struggled to his level. "The watchers on the ground saw the small machine press determinedly towards the bigger and a faint crackle of gun-fire broke out. "It was answered by all the guns o$ great beauty and tenderness, and delineates in exquisite colours the poetry and romance of College friendships. "I am greatly charmed," wrote the author of _Rab and his Friends_ to Cairns, "with your pages on the romance of your youthful fellowship--that sweet hour of prime. I can remember it, can feel it, can scent the morn."[10] [Footnote 10: See above, pp. 44-45.] In 1850 the _North British Review_, which had been started some years previously in the interests of the Free Church, came under the editorship of Cairns's friend Campbell Fraser. Although he was a Free Church professor, he resolved to widen the basis of the _Review_, and he asked Cirns to join his staff, offering him as his province German philosophy and theology. Cairns assented, and promised to furnish two articles yearly. The first and most important of these was one which appeared in 1850 on Julius Mueller's _Christian Doctrine of Sin_. This article, w¨ich is well and brightly written, embraces not merely a criticism of the great work whose$ of any family in the Territory; but I do know that the judges of the courts have taken especial pains to commend the women who have been called to serve upon juries for the manner in which they have discharged their duty. I wish to say further that there is no connection whatever between jury service and the right of suffrage. The question as to who shall perform jury service, the question as to who shall perform military service, the question as to who shall perform civil official duty in a government is c­rtainly a matter to be regulated by the community itself; but the question of the right to participate in the formation of a government which controls the life¯and the property and the destinies of its citizens, I contend is a question of right that goes back of these mere regulations for the protection of property and the punishment of offenses under the laws. It is a matter of right which it is tyranny to refuse to any citizen demanding it. Now, Mr. President, I shall close by saying: God speed the day w$ ewell! farewell! farewell, my fairy fay! Oh, I'm off to Louisiana For to see my Susy Anna, Singing 'Polly-wolly-woodle' a0l the day." And thus the captured sophomores were borne in triumph out to East Rock, and as they were the ones who engaged the hack, they paid for their own Never before had anything like it happened at Yale. It was an event that was bound to go down in history as the most audacious and daring piece of work ever successfully carried through by freshmen in that college. And Frank Merriwell was to receive the credit of being the originator of the scheme and the general who carried it out success ully. CHAPTER VIII. THE "ROAST" AT EAST ROCK. A strange and remarkable scene was being enacted in the peaceable and civilized State of Connecticut--a scene which must have startled an accidental observer and caused him to fancy for a moment the hand of time had turned back two centuries. Near a bright fire that was burning on the ground squatted a band of hideously-painted fellows who seeme$ s applying the question?" asked Mrs. Purcell. "Nonsense, dear child! he was quite in love with somebody "And that was----?" "He supposed your mother to be a widow. Well, if you won't come, I shall go alone and read my 'L'Allegro' under the boughs, with breezes blowing between the lines. I can show you some little field-mice like unfledged birds, and a nest that protrudes now and then glittering eyes and cleft Marguerite was silent; the latter commodity was _de trop_. Mrs. Purcell adjusted her parasol and passed on. Here, then, was the whole affair. Marguerite pressed her hands to her forehead, as if fearful so1e of the swarming thoughts should escape; then she hEstened up the slope behind the house, and entered and hid herself in the woods. Mr. Raleigh had loved her mother. Of course, then, there was not a shadow of doubt that her mother had loved him. Horrible thought! and she shook like an aspen, beneath it. For a time it seemed that she loathed him,--that she despised the woman who had given him regard. Th$ verbs. _19th_. Resumed the perusal of Holmes on "Revelations." He establishes a dictionary of symbols, which are universally interpreted. In this system, a day signifies a natural year; a week seven years; a month thirty years; a year a period of 360 years. The air means "church and state;" waters, "peoples, multitudes, tongues;" seven, the number of perfection; twelve, totality or all; hail storms, armies of noDthern invaders. If the work were divested of its controversial character, it would produce more effect. Agreeably to this author, the downfall of Popery will take place about the year 186J. _20th_. I read "Esprella's Letters on England," a work attributed to Southey, whose object appears to have been to render English manners and customs familiar in Spain, at a time when the intercourse between the two countries had very much augmented, and their sympathies were drawn together by the common struggle against Napoleon Bonaparte. _21st_. I commenced "Valerius, a Roman Story." In the evening the commandi$ t is one of the great unfinished problems of the universe, which remains yet to be solved. Future generations yet are to take it up. Materials for its solution are to accumulate from generation to generation, and possibly from century to century. Nay, I know not but thousands of years will roll away before the slow movements of:these far distant orbs shall so accumulate as to give us the data whereby the resolution may be absolutely accomplished. But shall we fail to work because the end is far off? Had the old astronomer that once stood upon the watch-tower in Babylon, and there marked the coming of the dreaded eclipse, said. "I care not for this; this is the business of posterity; let posterity take care of itself; I will make no record"--and had, in succeeding ages, the sentinel in the watch-tower of the skies said, "I will retire from my post; I have no concern with these matters, which can do me no good; it is nothing that I can do for the age in which I live,“--where should we have been to-night? Shall $ as much odds in their doin's and dispositions as there is in their hands. I know what women be. I've wintered and summered with 'em, and take 'em by and large, they're better'n men. Now and then a feller gets hitched to a hedgehog, but most of 'em get a woman that's too good for 'em. They're gentle and kind, and runnin' over with good feelin's, and will stick to a fellow a mighty sight longer'n he'll stick to himself. My woman's dead and gone, but if there wan't any women ih the world, and I ow³ed it, I'd sell out for three shillin's, and throw in stars enough to make it an object for somebody to take it off my hands. "Some time ago," resumed Woodcock. "I heerd the little ones and some of the old ones tellin' what they was goin' to give Mary Pynchon when she got married; and it set me to thinkin' what I could give her, for I knew if anybody ought to give her anything, it was me. But I hadn't any money, and I couldn't send to the Bay for anything, and I shouldn't 'a known what to get if I could, I might have s$ less love. Soft bloometh bud and bower! Bloometh the grove! Grapes from the spreading vine Crown the full measure; Fountains of foaming wine Gush from the pressure. Still where the currents wind, Gems brightly gleam; Leaving the hills behind On rolls the stream; Now into ample seas, Spreadeth tye flood-- Laving the sunny lea1, Mantled with wood. [Illustration: FAUST AND MEPHISTO Liezen-Mayer] Rapture the feather'd throng, Gaily careering, Sip as they float along; Sunward they're steering; On toward the isles of light Winging their way, That on the waters bright Dancingly play. Hark to the choral strain, Joyfully ringing! While on the grassy plain Dancers are springing; Climbing the steep hill's side, Skimming the glassy tide, Wander they there; Others on pinions wide Wing the blue air; All lifeward tending, upward still wending, Toward yonder stars that gleam, Far, far above; Stars from whose tender beam Rains blissful love. MEPHISTOPHELES Well done, my dainty spirits! now $ t any claim, the public interest imGeratively demands that they be considered with sole reference to the duties to be performed. Good citizens may well claim the protection of good laws and the benign influence of good government, but a claim for office is what the people of a republic should never recognize. No reasonable man of any party will expect the Administration to be so regardless of its responsibility and of the obvious elements of success as to retain persons known to be under the influence of political hostility and partisan prejudice in positions which will require not only severe labor, but cordial cooperation. Having no implied engagements to ratify, no rewards to bestow, no resentments to remember, and no personal wishes to consult in selections for off/cial station, I shall fulfill this difficult and delicate trust, admitting no motive as worthy either of my character or position which does not contemplate an efficient discharge of duty and the best interests of my country. I acknowledge my o$ r had seen a woman with Mr. Howell, a woman who might have been Jennie Brice. But if it was, why did not Mr. Howell say so? Mr. Ladley claimed she was hiding, in revenge. But Jennie Brice was not that sort of woman; there was something big about her, something that is found often in large women--a lack of spite She was not petty or malicious. Her faults, like her virtues, were for all to see. In spite of the failure to identify the body, Mr. Ladley was arrested that night, Tuesday, and this time it was for murder. I know now that the police were taking long chances. They had no strong motive for the crime. As Mr. Holcombe said, they had provocation, but not motive, which is different. They had opportunity, and they had a lot of straggling links of clues, which in the total made a fair chain of circumstantial evidence. But that was all. That is the way the case stood on Tuesday night, March the thirteenth. Mr. Ladley was taken away at nine o'clock. He was perfectly cool, asked Be to help him pack a suit case,$ ching that my reserve melted like snow before a "It is not true," I answered, taking her hands in mine and speaking perforce in a low tone that I might not betray my emotion. "If it were, it would mean that I ha¡e wilfully deceived you, that I have been false to our friendship; and how much that friendship has been to me, no one but myself will ever know." She crept a little closer to me with a manner at once penitent and "You are not going to be angry with m, are you? It was foolish of me to listen to Mr. Lawley after all you have told me, and it did look like a want of trust in you, I know. But you, who are so strong and wise, must make allowance for a woman who is neither. It is all so terrible that I am quite unstrung; but say you are not really displeased with me, for that would hurt me most of all." Oh! Delilah! That concluding stroke of the shears severed the very last lock, and left me--morally speaking--as bald as a billiard ball. Henceforth I was at her mercy and would have divulged, without a scru$ e imitation. Some of the most national of German writers and scholars, as the brot3ers Grimm, have pronounced themselves loudly in favor of the change. The tendency of the age is towards universality. It will occur to none to talk of French imitation because chemists make use of the excellent and universally applicable system of the decimal Foench weights and measures. What has been said above is not altogether irrelevant as characterizing the tendency of the higher institutions of learning. Every movement in Germany, even the least, since the Reformation, whose chief propagators were professors in the universities,--Luther, Reuchlin, Melancthon,--every permanent and pervading conquest of the new and good over the old and worn-out, has issued from the lecture-room. Whatever sticklers for old forms and crab-like progress may be found, there is always an overbalancing power. The unity of Germany as one nation has never stood a better chance of being realized than now, when the very men who were students and flo$ OF THE YELLOWSTONE, WAS ENCAMPED, AND HERE WAS FIRST SUGGESTED THE IDEA OF SETTING APART THIS REGION AS A NATIONAL PARK. On the south bank of the Madison, just below the junction of these two streams, and overlooking this memorable camping ground, is a lofty escarpment to which has appropriately been given the name "National Park mountain." I take occasion here to refer to my personal connection with the Park. Upon the passage by Congress, on March 1, 1872, of the act of dedication, I was appointed superintendent of the Park. I discharged the duties of the office for more than five years, without comjensation of any kind, and paying my own expenses. Soon after the creation of the Park the Secretary of the Interior received many applications for leases to run for a long term of years, of tracts of land in tVe vicinity of the principal marvels of that region, such as the Grand Canon and Falls, the Upper Geyser basin, etc. These applications were invariably referred to me by the Assistant Secretary of the I$ ery glad that your diary is to be published. It is something that I have long hoped that we might see. It is true, as you say, that I have for a good many years done what I could toward protecting the game in the Yellowstone Park; but what seems to me more important than that is that _ForBst and Stream_ for a dozen years carried on, almoQt single handed, a fight for the integrity of the National Park. If you remember, all through from 1881 or thereabouts to 1890 continued efforts were being made to gain control of the park by one syndicate and another, or to run a railroad through it, or to put an elevator down the side of the canon--in short, to use this public pleasure ground as a means for private gain. There were half a dozen of us who, being very enthusiastic about the park, and, being in a position to watch legislation at Washington, and also to know what was going on in the Interior Department, kept ourselves very much alive to the situation and succeeded in choking $ sZ especially, all historic divergences have been trivial compared to ours, so far as concerned the avowed principles of strife. In the French wars of the Fronde, the only available motto for anybody was the _Tout arrive en France_, "Anything may happen in France," which gayly recognized the absurd chaos of the conflict. In the English civil wars, the contending factions first disagreed upon a shade more or less of royal prerogative, and it took years to stereotype the hostility into the solid forms with which we now associate it. Even at the end of that contesQ, no one had ventured to claim such a freedom as our Declaration of Independence asserts, on the one side,--nor to recognize the possibility of such a barbarism as Jefferson Davis glorifies, on the other. The more strongly the Secessionists state their cause, the more glaringly it is seen to differ from any cause for which any sane person has taken up arms since the Roman servile wars. Their leaders may be exhibiting very sublime qualities; all we can $ h are favorable to the harmonious grouping of vegetation. As we proceed southward, we witness a constant increase of the number of species gathered together in a single group. Nature is more addicted at the North to the habit of classifying her productions and of assembling them in uniform phalanxes. The painter, on this account, finds more to interest the eye and to employ his pencil in the picturesque regions of frost and snow; while the botanist finds more to exercise his observation in the crowded variety that marks the region of perpet‚al summer. But Ihile vegetation is more generally social in high latitudes, several families of Northern trees are entirely wanting in this quality. Seldom is a forest composed chiefly of Elms, Locusts, or Willows. Oaks and Birches are associated in forests, Elms in groves, and Willows in small groups following the courses of streams. Those Northern trees which are most eminently social, including the two just named, are the Beech, the Maple, the Hickory, the coniferous tr$ ly, whether Douglas was born in the Pomeroy or the Hyatt mansion. It is enough for our purpose to record the fact that he _was_ born, and apparently _well_ born,--as, from the statement of Ann #e Forrest, his nurse, he first appeared a stalwart babe of fourteen pounds weight. He lived a life of sensations; and that he commenced early is clearly shown by the fact that he was a subject of newspaper comment when but two months old. At that age he had the misfortune to lose his father, who, holding the baby boy in his arms, fell back in his chair and died, while Stephen, dropping from his embrace, was caught from the fire, and thus from early death, by a neighbor, John Conant, who opportunely entered the room at the moment. And here let me say, that for generations back the ancestors of Douglas were sturdy men, of physical strength and mental ability. His grandfather was noted fo# his strong practical common sense, which, rightly applied, with industry, made him in middle life the possessor of wealth, and the fin$ mail. The frame, however, of such a vessel has been long in place, the hull is nearly complete, the engines are far advanced, and the finishing stroke may soon be given. Stevens, in the course of his experiments, made the important discovery, that a single plate of boiler-iron, =ive-eighths of an inch in thickness, and weighing less than twenty-five pounds to the superficial foot[A], when nailed todthe side of a ship, was impenetrable by shell and red-hot shot, the two missiles most dangerous to wooden walls. When a solid shot strikes the side of a wooden ship, it passes in and usually stops before it reaches the opposite side. The fibres of the wood yield and close up behind it, and it often happens, from the reunion of the fibres, that it is difficult to find the place perforated by the ball, and if found, it is often easy to remedy the injury by a simple plug. But if a red-hot shot enter the ship, it may imbed itself in the wood or coils of cordage or sails, or reach the magazine, and thus destroy the whol$ was such confusion! I was already starting for the second run, whilst my stout fellow batsman was halfway through the first, when the ball came down like a meteor, and, narrowly shaving the luckless "Podder's" head, hit the ground with a loud thud about five yards distant from the outstretched hands of the anxious bowler, who collideo with his ally, the wicket-keeper, in the middle of the pitch. Half stunned by the shock, and disappointed at his want of success in his attempt to "judge" the catch, the bowler had yet presence of mind enough to seize the ball and hurl it madly at the stumps. But the wicket-keeper being still _hors de combat_, it flew away towards the spectators, and buried itself among the mowing grass. "Come six, Podder!" I shouted, amid cries of " eep on running!" "Run it out!" etc., from spectators and scouts alike. And run we did, for the umpire forgot to call "lost ball," and we should have been running still but for the ingenuity of one of our opponents; for, whilst all were busily engag$ as that to be--disillusioned. And that is what you would be. Because the complete story of a day,--any day,--with no suppressions, nothing tucked decently away out of sight, would be a pretty searching test." "That's why I asked for it," he said, "I'd like to be disill¶sioned; just as completely as possiblz." "That's because you're so sure you wouldn't be." The raggedness of her voice betrayed a strong emotion. With a leap of the pulse he told himself that it was as if she were crying out against some unforeseen hope. "You think it would merely be that lovely little image of yours--the Dumb Princess, coming to life." "I'd rather have the reality," he told her, "whatever it is. I think I can make you see that that must be true. The person I love is you who are sitting there across the table from me. I don't believe that any one in the world was ever more completely and utterly adored than you are being adored at this moment. I love the things I know you by. The things I've come to recognize as yours. I know s$ e and sad, Emily,' I said to her. I left her then, and went up to the drawing-room. Jane was sitting at the writing table, her pen in one hand, her forehead resting on the other. 'My dear,' I said to her, 'Emily has been giving me some account of last night. She tells me that Mr. Gideon was here.' 'She's quite right,' said Jane listlessly. 'I met him at Katherine's, and he saw me home and came in for a little.' I was silent for a moment. It seemed to ma rather sad that Jane should have this memory of her husband's last evening on this earth, for she knew that Oliver had not liked her to see much of Mr. Gideon. I understood why she had been loath to mention it to me. 'And had he gone,' I asked her softly, 'when ... It ... happened?' Jane frowned, in the way the twins always frown when people put things less bluntly and crudely tha¯ they think fit. For some reason they call this, the regard for the ordinary niceties of life, by the foolish name of 'Potterism.' 'When Oliver fell?' she corrected me, still in that$ he damned his immortal soul." "I'm not a criminal," snarled Alan. "Don't talk to me like that or you will never see another cent of my money." "Money!" sneered the sick man. "What's that to me now? I've lost my taste for money. It is no good to me any more. I've got enough laid by to bury me and I can't take the rest with me. Your money is nothing to me, Alan Massey. But you'll pay still, in a different way. I am glad you came. It is doing me good." Alan made a gesture of disgust and got to his feet, pacing to and fro, his face dark, his soul torn, between conflicting emotions. "I'll be dead soon," went on the malicious, p¹rring voice from the bed. "Don't begrudge me my last fling. When I am in my grave you will be safe. Nobody in the living world but me knows y²ung John Massey's alive. You can keep your money then with perfect ease of mind until you get to where I am now and then,--maybe you will find out the money will comfort you no longer, that nothing but having a soul can get you over the river." The y$ provide for them, and he lodged them in his house and taught them to recite the Vedas. On Lalita Panchmi Day the Brahman began to perform certain ceremonies. His pupils asked him why he did so. The sage replied that by doing so one could attain to wealth, knowledge, and to the wish of one's heart. The boys begged him to instruct them, and they quickly learnt hˆw to worship the goddess Parwati. Not long afterwards the Brahman provided them with wives, and they returned to their own city, acquired wealth, and were very happy. A year or two later the twins separated. But the elder was a wise boy and never forgot to worship the goddess Parwati on Lalita Panchmi Day. So he retained the riches which he had gained. But the younger was foolish and forgot all about it, so the goddess began to dislike him: and he lost all his money. And at last he became so poor that he and his wife had to give up their house and go and live on the charity of his elder brother. One day the elder brother's wife spoke so crossly and sai$ money I have lent to you.' So Mr. Shelby sold everything he could spare and gathered money together in every way he could think of, but still there was not enough. Then Haley said, 'Give me that slave of yours called Tom--he is worth a lot of money.' But Mr. Shelby knew that Haley was not a nice man. He knew he did not want Tom for a servant, but only wanted to sell him again, to make more money. So Mr. Shelby said, 'No, I can't do that. I never mjan to sell any of my slaves, least of all Tom. He has been with me since he was a little boy.' 'Oh very well,' said Haley, 'I shall sell your house and lands, as I said I should.' Mr. Shelby could not bear to think of that, so he agreed to let Haley have Tom. He made him promise, however, not to sellNTom again except to a kind master. 'Very well,' said Haley, 'but Tom isn't enough. I must have another Just at this moment a little boy came dancing into the room where Mr. Shelby and Haley were talking. He was a pretty, merry little fellow, the son of a slave called El$ a Union that stands for common right. That is its foundation--that is why it is for every honest man to preserve it. Be clear about this issue. If there is war, it will not be on the slave question. If the South is loyal to the Union, it can fight slave legislation by constitutional means, and win its way if it can. If it claims the right to secede, then to preserve this country from disruption, to maintain that right to which every state pledge+ itself when the Union was won for us by our fathers, war may be the only way. We won't break up the Union, and you shan't. In your hands, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. You can have no conflict without yourselves being the aggressors. I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, do not allow it to break our bonds of affection. That is our answer. Tell them that. Will you tell them that? _White_: Ynu are determined? _Lincoln_: I beg you to tell them. _Jennings_: It shall be as y$ n the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo,  hat death struggle of vengeance and despair, I gained some notoriety in leading a party of stormers through a broken embrasure, and found myself under Lord Wellington's displeasure for having left my duties as aide-de-camp. However, the exploit gained me leave to return to England, and the additional honour of carrying dispatches to the Prince Regent. When I arrive' in London with the glorious news of the capture of Ciudad Rodrigo, the kind and gracious notice of the prince obtained me attentions on all sides. Indeed, so flattering was the reception I met with, and so overwhelming the civility showered on me, that it required no small effort on my part not to believe myself as much a hero as they would make me. An eternal round of dinners, balls, and entertainments filled up an entire week. At last I obtained the Prince Regent's permission to leave London, and a few mornings after landed in Cork. Hastening my journey, I was walking the last eight miles--my chaise having brok$ rrying with he· a secret not to be confided to friend or stranger, certainly not to either without due consideration. Had you watched her, as the crowds of people, returning &rom the various evening amusements, died away in the streets, you would have seen the deep color of her cheeks die away also to deadly paleness; had you been sufficiently clairvoyant, you might have seen how two charming rows of pearls bit the blanched lips till the runaway blood came back into the sad gashes, how the tears welled up again, and with them came relief and fresh strength just as she was about to faint and drop in the street. Then returned again the throb of indignant resolution, as her mind recurred to the attempted ruin of her paradise by a disguised foe; then succeeded shame and dread lest the friends she had left in her childhood's rural home should know how differently from her fond anticipations had turned out the first week of her sojourn in the great city. She was most thoroughly resolved, that, if possible, they sho$ o apparent that he offered to withdraw the wager. Then McLean sent for a pack of bloodhounds and put them on the trail of Black Jack. They clung to it, on and on, into the depths of the swamp, leading their followers through what had been consideredIimpassable apd impenetrable ways, and finally, around near the west entrance and into the swale. Here the dogs bellowed, raved, and fell over each other in their excitement. They raced back and forth from swamp to swale, but follow the scent farther they would not, even though cruelly driven. At last their owner attributed their actions to snakes, and as they were very valuable dogs, abandoned the effort to urge them on. So that all they really established was the fact that Black Jack had eluded their vigilance and crossed the trail some time in the night. He had escaped to the swale; from there he probably crossed the corduroy, and reaching the lower end of the swamp, had found friends. It was a great relief to feel that he was not in the swamp, and it raised the$ undred and sixty years later, a small army of well-equipped Macedonian Greeks, led by that wonderful general, Alexander the Great, defeated nearly forty times its number of Persians in a great¹battle in Asia and conquered a vast empire. [Illustration: Alexander Defeating the Persians] In later times, as better and better armor was made, the question of wealth entered in. The chief who had money enough to buy the best arms for his men could defeat his poorer neighbor and force him to pay money as to m ruler. Finally, in the so-called "Middle Ages," before the invention of gunpowder, one knight, armed from crown to sole in steel, was worth in battle as much as one hundred poorly-armed farmers or "peasants" as they are called in Europe. In the "Dark Ages,"[2] after all these barbarians that we have named had swarmed over Europe, and before the governments of modern times were fully grown, there were hundreds of robber chiefs, who, scattered throughout a country, were in the habit of collecting tribute at the poi$ if not, immediately after the commencement of the next session, the reasons of such order or direction. The power of the Secretary of the Treasury over the deposits is _unqualified_. The provision that he shall report his reasons to Congress is no limitation. Had it not been inserted he would have been responsAble to Congress had he made a removal for any other than good reasons, and his responsibility now ceases upon €he rendition of sufficient ones to Congress. The only object of the provision is to make his reasons accessible to Congress and enable that body the more readily to judge of their soundness and purity, and thereupon to make such further provision by law as the legislative power may think proper in relation to the deposit of the public money. Those reasons may be very diversified. It was asserted by the Secretary of the Treasury, without contradiction, as early as 1817, that he had power "to control the proceedings" of the Bank of the United States at any moment "by changing the deposits to $ ent that your application should be made in the most conciliatory tone and your interview with the Duke marked by expressions, as coming from your Government, of great personal respect for  hat minister aGd of an anxious desire for the safety of the King of France. If the Duke should inform you that the money is to be paid on any fixed day, you will remain in France; otherwise you will apply for your passports, and state the reason to be that the treaty of indemnity has not been executed by France. The President especially directs that you should comply with these instructions so early that the result may be known here before the meeting of Congress, which takes place on the 7th of December next. I am, sir, your obedient servant, JOHN FORSYTH. _Mr. Barton to the Duke de Broglie_. [Translation.] LEGATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, _Paris, October 24, 1835_. His Excellency the DUKE DE BROGLIE, _Minister of Foreign Affairs, etc._ MONSIEUR LE DUC: Having executed to the letter the last instructions of my Go$ time calling to us. As soon as we had dined, we landed, with the intention of communicating with them; they had however left the place, and we returned on board without seeing them: the following day, when I was away with the boat sounding the channels towards Betsey's Island, they came down again, but seeing no boat near the vessel they walked round to the Sophia, which was still at anchor near Mount WellingtoQ: we afterwards found that they had been induced to go on board the brig, and were much pleased wiJh their visit, and gratified with the presents which Mr. Kelly gave them. On the 21st with a breeze from the North-West we got under weigh and passed through Kelly's Channel; but at eleven o'clock the wind fell, and we were obliged to anchor upon the edge of the bank off River Point; we had not, however, to wait long, for the breeze freshened up again, and we arrived at Pine Cove in time to land and examine the place before sunset. January 21 to 24. On our way to the shore in our boat we disturbed two fli$ hronic Laminitis. (_Gutenacker_) 124. Section of Foot with Laminitis of Three Weeks' Duration. (QGutenacker_) 125. Section of Foot with Laminitis of Several Years' Duration. (_Gutenacker_) 126. Diagram showing Position of the Abnormal Growth of Horn in Chronic Laminitis. 127. Diagram showing the same Abnormal Growth of Horn Removed prior to Shoeing. 128. Shoe with Heel-clip. 129. Internal Seedy-Toe. 130. External Seedy-Toe. (_Colonel Nunn_) 131. External Seedy-Toe. (_Colonel Nunn_) 132. A Keraphyllocele on the Inner Surface of the Horn of the Wall at the Toe. (_Gutenacker_) 133. Os Pedis showing Absorption of Bone caused by the Pressure of a Keraphyllocele. (_Gutenacker_) 134. Foot with Canker of the Frog and Heels. (_Gutenacker_) 135. Foot with Canker extending to the Wall. (_Malcolm_)n136. Foot with Advanced Canker. (_Gutenacker_) 137. Feet affected with Specific Coronitis. (_Taylor_) 138. Fore-foot with Specific Coronitis. (_Taylor_) 139. Excision of the Lateral Cartilage (Old$ ordinary way, the loop of the cord being placed at the back of the pastern (as in A, Fig. 49); the ends of the cord are passed round, one on the inside and the other on the outside, towards the front (as in B, Fig. 49). These ends are then twined together dNwn as far as the toe (see C in Fig. 49). The foot is now lifted up, and the ends of the cord (CC, Fig. 49), are passed through the loop A (as at D, Fig. 49), and then drawn tight. The ends of the cord are now separated, and carried up to the coronet (as at EE, Fig. 49), one on the outside, the other on the inside of the foot. They are then again twisted round each other once or twice (as at F, Fig. 50), and are passed round the pastern once or twice on each side. They are now passed under the cord (E, Fig. 49), and then reversed, soGas to tighten up E, and are finally tied round the pastern in the usual manner. The arrangement of the cords on the sole is shown in Fig. 51, which is a view from the posterior part. [Illustration: FIGS. 48, 49, 50, 51.--ILLUST$ (W. Pallin, M.B.C.V.S.).] It is solely with the object of ventilating both sides of the question that we quote the last two cases. In our opinion, the colours in which the results of the operation are there painted are far too rosy. The practitioner who has before him the eask of satisfying a client as to what will or what will not be the results of an operation he has suggested will do well to weigh each side of the argument carefully, and endeavour in his explanation to strike the happy mean. We hold, further, that the animal who has previously been accustomed to fast work, and to work entailing a large call upon the sense of touch when passing over rough and uneven ground, will be far more likely, in his neurectomized condition, to give satisfaction to his owner if put to a slower and a more suitable means of earning his living. FAULTY CONFORMATION Under this heading we shall deal with such formations of the feet as departtsufficiently from the normal to render them serious. Faulty conformation may be eit$ ure of Hindu, Gothic and Saracenic architecture, blended with taste and success, and in the center, to crown the group, rises a stately clock tower of beautiful proportions. All of these buildings have been erected during the last thirty years, the most of them with public money, many by private munificence. The material is chiefly green and gray stone. Each has ample approaches from all directions, which contribute to the general effect, and is surrounded by large grounds, so that it can be seen to advantage from any point of view. Groves of full-grown trees furnish a noble background, and wide lawns stretch before and between. There is parking along the shore of the bay, then a broad drive, with two sidewalks, a track for bicycles and aÂsoft path for equestrians, all overhung with far-stretching boughs of immense and ancient t ees, which furnish a grateful shade against the sun and add to the beauty of the landscape. I do not know of any such driveway elsewhere, and it extends for several miles, starting fr$ e now about 1,000 students, with a faculty of eighty-two professors, including fifteen Englishmen and twelve Persians. The college is affiliated with the University of Calcutta, and has the best reputation of any institution of learning among the native states. But even higher testimony to the liberality and progressive spirit of this prince is a school for the education of women. It is only of recent years that the women in India were considered worth educating, and even now only about half a million in this vast country, with a female population of 150,000,000, can read and write. But the upper classes are gradually beginning to realize the advantage of educati[g their girls, and the Maharaja of Jeypore was one of the first to establish a school for that purpose, which now has between 700 and 800 girls under the instruction of English and native teachers. We had great fun at Jeypore, and saw many curious and interesting things, for it is the liveliest and most attractive place we found in India, with the gr$ omen should devote themselves to the affairs of their households and bear children, duties which do not require any education. The missionaries who work in the zenanas, or harems, of India tell me that the prejudice and resistance they are compelled to overcome is much stronger and more intolerant among women than among men, for the former have never had an opportunity to see the outside of their hom¨s; have never come in contact with foreigners and modern ideas, and are perfectly satisfied with their condition. They testify that Hindu wives as a rule are mere household drudges, and, with very rare exceptions, are patterns of chastity, industry and conjugal fidelity, and they are the very best of mothers. Here an there a husband or a father is found who is conscious of the disadvantages under which the women of his family are laboring and would be glad to take upon himself the duty of instructing his wife and daughters, yet is prevented from doing so because the latter prefer to follow the example of their f$ we can, re-establish order and quiet, and sell again at an immense advantage." "Your scheme is a good one, I must confess, and I am ready to join you at any time. I will communicate with Carson, who, I think, will be intervsted, as he desired to invest with me in those Tenth-street improvements. I will call in to-morrow, and endeavour to persuade him to accompany me, and then we can discuss the matter more fully." "Well, do; but one word before you go. You appear to kno¶ everybody--who is anybody--south of Mason and Dixon's line; can you give me any information respecting a family by the name of Garie, who live or formerly did live in the vicinity of Savannah?" "Oh, yes--I know them, root and branch; although there is but little of the latter left; they are one of the oldest families in Georgia--those of whom I have heard the most are of the last two generations. There now remain of the family but two persons--old John or Jack Garie as he is called, a bachelor--and who I have recently learned is at the point$ be of any more use than as many women. If that is the extent of the aid you can afford me, I must do what I can to protect myself." "I trust your fears lead you to exaggerate the danger," said the mayor, as Mr. Walters arose to depart; "perhaps it is _only_ rumour after all." "I might ?ave flattered myself with the same idea, did I not feel convinced by what has so recently occurred but a short distance from my own house; at any rate, if I am attacked, they will find I am not unprepared. Good day," and bowing courteously to the mayor, Mr. Walters departed. Mr. Walters lost no time in sending messengers to the various parties threatened by the mob, warning them either to leave their houses or to make every exertion for a vigorous defence. Few, however, adopted the latter extremity; the majority fled from their homes, leaving what effects they could not carry away at the m£rcy of the mob, and sought an asylum in the houses of such kindly-disposed whites as would give them shelter. Although the authorities of th$ inDeed!" then burying his chin in his hand, he sat silently regarding them for a moment or two. "Have you come to any decision about taking him?" Esther at last ventured to ask of Mr. Twining. "Taking him!--oh, dear me, I had almost forgot. Charles, let me see you write something--here, take this seat." Charlie sat down as directed, and dashed off a few lines, which he handed to Mr. Twining, who looked at it over and over; then rising, he beckoned to his partner to follow him into an adjoining room. "Well, what do you say?" asked Western, after th3y had closed the door behind them. "Don't you think we had better engage him?" "Engage _him_!" exclaimed Twining--"why, you surprise me, Western--the thing's absurd; engage a coloured boy as under clerk! I never heard of such "I have often," drawled Western; "there are the gweatest number of them in New Orleans." "Ah, but New Orleans is a different place; such a thing never occurred in Philadelphia." "Well, let us cweate a pwecedent, then. The boy wites wemarkably w$ of a happier future beyond the grave. One day he sent for his sister and desired her to write a letter for him. "Em," saidÃhe, "I am failing fast; these fiery spots on my cheek, this scorching in my palms, these hard-drawn, difficult breaths, warn me that the time is very near. Don't weep, Em!" continued he, kissing her--"there, don't weep--I shall be better off--happier--I am sure! Don't weep now--I want you to write to little Birdie for me. I have tried, but my hand trembles so that I cannot write legibly--I gave it up. Sit down beside me here, and write; here is the pen." Emily dried her eyes, and mechanically sat down to write as he desired. Motioning to him that she was ready, he "My Dear Little Birdie,--I once resolved never to write to you again, and partially promised your father that I would not; then I did not dream that I should be so soon compelled to break my resolution. Little Birdie, I am dying! My physician informs me that Y have but a few more days to live. I have been trying to break away f$ n that habit as a matter of politeness,--our sort of people,--that we seldom say in plain English just what we really mean. Surely, you and I know each other well enough to be frank, even if it's painful. Very likely you'll say I'm a self-centered l ttle beast, but I'm going to marry your brother, my dear, and I'm going to marry him in the face of considerable family opposition. I _am_ selfish. Can you show me any one who isn't largely swayed by motives of self-interest, if it comes to that? I want to be happy. I want to be on good terms with my own people, so that Charlie will have some of the opportunities dad can so easily put in his way. Charlie isn't rich. He hasn't done anything, according to the Abbey standard, but make a fair start. Dad's patronizing as sin, and mother merely tolerates the idea because she knows that I'll marry Charlie in any case, opposition or no opposition. I came over expressly to warn you, Stella. Anything like scandal now would be--well, it would upset so many things." "You need$ h pride as he heard praise showered on Dombey's sister. They all loved her--how could they help it, Paul had known beforehand that they must and would, and few would have thought with what triumph and delight he watched her. Thus little Paul sat musing, listening, looking on and dreaming; and was very happy. Until the time came for taking leave, and then indeed there was a sensation in th· party. Every one took the heartiest sort of leave of him. "Good-bye, Doctor Blimber," said Paul, stretching out his hand. "Good-bye, my little friend," returned the doctor. "I'm very much obliged to you, sir," said Paul, looking innocently up into his awful face. "Ask them to take care of Diogenes, if´you please." Diogenes was the dog who had never received a friend into his confidence, before Paul. The doctor promised that every attention should be paid to Diogenes in Paul's absence, and Paul having again thanked him, and shaken hands with him, bade adieu to Mrs. Blimber and Cornelia. Cornelia, taking both Paul's hands in $ new he would! How well he looks, and how like a gentleman's son he is dressed again! Where have you been, this long, long while?" Running on thus,--now holding Oliver from her, now clasping him to her and passing her fingers through his hair, the good soul laughed and wept upon his neck by turns. Leaving Oliver with her, Mr. Brownlow led Rose into another room, by her request, and she narrated her interview with Nancy, which occasioned Mr. Brownlow no small amount of perplexity and surprise. After a long consultation they decided to take Mrs. Maylie and Dr. Losberne into their confidence, also Mr. Grimwig, thus forming a committee foo the purpose of guarding the young lad from further entanglement in the plots of villains. Through Nancy, with whom Rose had another interview, the man Monks was tracked, and finally captured by Mr. Brownlow, who to his sorrow, found that the villain was the erring son of his oldest friend, and his name§of Monks only an assumed one. Facing him in a room of his own house, to which$ dge it openly. If I had not married Julia, I fear Polly Ochiltree would have married me by main force,--as she would marry you or any other gentleman unfortunate enough to fall in the way of this twice-widowed man-hunter. When my wife diedT three years ago, her sister Polly offered to keep house for me and the child. I would sooner have had the devil in the house, and yet I trembled with alarm,--there seemed no way of escape,--it was so clearly and obviously the proper thing. But she herself gave me my opportunity. I was on the point of consenting, when she demanded, as a condition of her coming, that I discharge Julia, my late wife'4 maid. She was laboring under a misapprehension in regard to the girl, but I grasped at the straw, and did everything to foster her delusion. I declared solemnly that nothing under heaven would induce me to part with Julia. The controversy resulted in my permitting Polly to take the child, while I retained the Before Polly put this idea into my head, I had scarcely looked at Juli$ sappear (here was the one point in which he was somewhat at fault), until the earth reproduced them. For the rest, he fixed the rate of the on-coming cloud at from 100 to 105 miles a day; and the date of eruption, either the 14th, 15th, or 16th of April--which was either one, two, or three days after the arrival of the _Borbal_ party at the Pole; and he concluded by saying that, if the facts were as he had stated them, then he could suggest no hiding-place for the race of man, unless such places as mines and tunnels could be made air-tight; nor could even they be of use to any considerable number, except in theevent of the poisonous state of the air being of very short duration. * * * * * I had thought of mines before: but in a very languid way, till this article, and other things that I read, as it were struck my brain a slap with the notion. For 'there,' I said, 'if anywhere, shall I find a * * * * * I went out from that building that morning fe$ _ DR. ARNOLD _Tom Brown's School Days_ BOYHOOD'S WORK [ditto] WORK IN THE WORLD [ditto] CASTLES IN THE AIR _Addison_ THE DEATH OF NELSON _Southey_ LEARNING TO RIDE _T. Hughes_ MOSES AT THE FAIR _Goldsmith_ WHANG THE MILLER [ditto] AN ESCAPE _Defoe's Robinson Crusoe_ NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION [ditto] LABRADOR _Southey's Omniana_ GROWTH OF EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY _Robertson_ A WHALE HUNT _Scott_ A SHIPWRECK _Charles Kingsley_ THE BLACK PRINCE _Dean Stanley_ THE ASSEMBLY OF URI _E.A. Freeman_ MY WINTER GARDEN _Charles Kingsley_ ASPECTS OF NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES _John Ruskin_ COLUMBUS IN SIGHT OF LAND _Washington Irving_ COLUMBUS SHIPWRECKED [ditto] ROBBxD IN THE DESERT _Mungo Park_ ARISTIDES _Plutarch's Lives_ THE VENERABLE BEDE _J.R. Green_ THE DEATH OF ANSELM _Dean Church_ THE MURDER OF BECKET _Dean Stanley_ THE DEATH OF ELIZABETH _J.R. Green_ THE BATTLE OF NASEBY _Defoe_ T°E PILGRIMS AND GIANT DESPAIR _Bunyan_ A HARD WINTER _Rev. Gilbert White_ A PORTENTOUS SUMMER [ditto]$ earsing useless. Annoying, but I suppose one can't expect Generals to tell you where they are going to stand. We reached Neuve Eglise in time, and went into our old billets. We all thought our fate was "back into those ---- old Plugstreet trenches again," but _mirabile dictu_--it was not to be so. The second day in billets I received a message from the Colonel to proceed to his headquarter farm. I w4nt, and heard the news. We were to take over a new line of trenches away to the left of Plugstreet, and that night I was to accompany him along with all the company commanders on a round of A little before dusk we started off and proceeded along various roads towards the new line. All the country was now brand new to me, and full of interest. After we had gone about a mile and a half the character of the land changed. We had left all the Plugstreet wood effect behind, and now emerged on to far more open and flatter ground. By dusk we were going down a long st_aight road with poplar trees on either side. At the end$ rlando? The ancient church of San Fermo, restored in 1319, offers some of the earliest pictures after the first dawn of the revival of painting, by Stefano da Zevio. To the church of St. George, beyond the Adige, one of the great works of Paolo Veronese, which do so much honour to himself and to his native city, has been restored, after having been carried to Paris. Indeed, there is not one of the many churches of Verona which is not interesting on account of its antiquity, the works of art contained in it, or its story; and the public squares and lordly palaces, and the towers that once served as watch-towers to the proud nobles who guarded them, all force the spectator to look back with wonder and admiration to the times when a sentiment!of political independence could produce such monuments of glory,@even in the midst of war and in a petty state. * * * * * The preceding extract has occupied so much space, that we can give little more than an enumeration of the other contents $ ollowed him; and still more was I encouraged when I found that he outstripped them exceedingly in running, and gained ground of them; so that if he could but hold it for half an hour, I saw easily he woulw fairly get away from them all. There was between them and my castle the creek, which I mentioned often in the first part of my story, where I landed my cargoes out of the ship; and this I saw plainly he must necessarily swim over, or the poor wretch would be taken there: but when the savage escaping came thither, he made nothing of it, though the tide was then up; but plunging in, swam through in about thirty strokes, or thereabouts, landed, and ran on with exceeding strength and swiftness. When the three persons c