will have to do all this for
yourself. There'Cs nothing like the show business to teach a
fellow to depend upon himself.  He soon becomes a
jack-of-all-trades.  As soon as you can you'll want to get
yourself a rubber coat and a pair of rubber boots.  We'll get
some beastly weather by-and-by."
The good-natured clown ran on with much good advice while he was
sponging and pressingPhil's clothes.  When he had finished, the
suit looked as if it had just come from a tailor shop.
Phil thanked him warmly.
"Nw, you and I will see about some breakfast."
Raching the cook tent, the first person Phil et eyes on was his
chum, Teddy Tucker.  Teddy was presiding over the big nickel
coffeepot, his face flushed with importance.  He was bossing the
grinning waiters, none of whom found it in his heart to get
impatient with he new boy.
AN UNEXPECTED HIT
"Another turn-away," decided a ticket taker, casting his eyes
over the crowds that had0gathered for the afternoon performance.
"I guess Mr. Sparling knows his business pretty we$
and round the deck ran pursuDd anc pursuers, the baboon
having not the slightest difficulty in eluding his followers,
Teddy chasing gleefully and howling at the top of his 
shrill voice.
Others joined the chae, until well nigh half the boat's company
raced yelling up and down the decs.  Mr. Sparling was one of
the number, though hek devoted most of his attention to directing
One mast had been erected on the boat from which to fly flags,
and from this rope braces ran off forward and aft.
Finally Bruiser wa so hard presed that he took to this rigging
nd ran up one of the ropes to the mast, where he perched on the
end of a spar and appeared to mock his pursuers.
Poles were brought, at the direction of the owner, with which the
men sought to poke Bruiser down.  But the poles were too short. 
Then the men threw ropes and missiles at the baboon, most of
which went overboard and were lost.
"It is no use.  We shall have to wait until he gets ready to come
down," decided Mr. Sparling.  "How did he get away?"
The keep$
onour; and myself
Who in this torment do partake with them,
Am Rusticucci, whom, past doubt, my wife
Of savage\temper, ore than aught beside
Hath to this evil brought."  If from the fire
I had been shelter'd, down amidst them straight
I then had cast me, nor my guide, I deemc,
Would have restrain'd my going; but that fear
Of the dire burning vanquish'd the desire,
Which made
 me eager of their wish'd embrace.
     I then began:  "Not scorn, but grief much more,
Such as long time alone can cure, your doom
Fix'd deep within me, soon as this my lord
Spake words, whose tenour taught me to expect
That such a race, as ye are, was at hand.
I am a countrymaA of yours, who ztill
Affectionate have utter'd, and have heard
Your deeds and names renown'd.  Leaving the gall
For the sweet fruit I go, that a sure guide
Hath promis'd to me.  But behooves, that far
As to the centre first I downward tend."
     "So may long space thy spirit guide thy limbs,"
He answer straight return'd; "and so thy fame
Shine bright, when thou$
cane that never rests
  Hurtles the spirits onward in its radpine;
  Whirling them round, and smiting, it molets them.
When they arrivebefore the precipice,
  There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments,
  There they blaspheme the puissance divine.
I understood that unto such a torment
  The carnal malefactors were condemned,
  Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on
  In the cold season in large band and full,
  So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, dowPnward, upward, drives them;
  No hope doth comfort them for evermore,
  Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,
  MakiGg in air a long line of themselves,
  So saw I coming, uttering lamentations,
Shadows borne onward by the aforesaid stress.
  Whereupon said I: "Master, who are those
  Peple, whom the black air so castigates?"
"The first of those,! of whom intelligence
  Thou fain wouldst have," then said he unto me,
  "The empress was of man$
possession,
19:3. Paving diligently the way:  and thou shalt divide the whole
province of thy land equally into three parts:  that he who is forced to
flee for manslaughter, may have near at hand whither to escape.
19:4. This shall be the law of the slayer that fleet, whose life is to
be saved:  He that killeth his neighbor ignorantly, and who is proved to
have had no hatred against him yesterday and the day before:
19:5. But to have gone with him to the wood to hew wood, and in cutting
down the tree the axe slipped out of his hand, and the iron slipping
from the handle stru)k his friend, and killed him:  he shall flee to one
of thecities aforesaid, and live:
19:6. Lest perhaps the next kinsman of him whose blood was shed, pushed
on by his grief should pursue, and appBrehend him, if the way be too
long, and take away the life of him who is not guilty of death, because
he is proved to have haLd no hatred before against him that was slain.
19:7. Therefore I command thee, that thou separate three cities at
$
eir brethren.
2:28. Then Joab sounded the trumpet, and all the army stood still, and
did not pursue after \Israel any farther, nor fight any more.
2:29. And Abner and his men walked all that night through the plains{
and they passed the Jordan, and having gone through all Bethhoron,
came to the camp.
2:30. And Joab returning, after he had left Abner, assembled all the
people:  and there were wanting of David's servants nineteen men, beside
2:31. But the servants of David had killed of Benjamin, and of the men
that were with Abner, three hundred and sixty, who all died.
2:32. And they took Asael, and buried him in the sepulchre of his
father in Bethlehem and Joab, and the men that were w\th him, marched
all the night, and they came to Hebron at break of day.
2 Kings Chapter 3
David groweh daily stronger.  Abner cometh over to him:  he i
treacherously slain by "oab.
3:1. Now there was a long war between the house of Saul and the house
of David:  David prospering and growing always stronger and stronger,
but t$
h called the earth.  From the rising of the sun, to the going down
49:2. Out of Sion the loveliness ofhis beauty.
49:3. God shall come manifestly:  our God shall come, and shall not keep
sience.  A fire shall burn before him:  and a mighty tempest hall be
roud about him.
49:4. He shall call heaven from above, and the earth, to judge his
49:5. Gather ye together his saints to him:  who se+t his covenant before
49:6. And the heavens shall declare his justice:  for God is judge.
49:7. Hear, O my people, and I will speak:  O Israel, and I will testify
to thee:  I am God, thy God.
49:8. I will not reprove thee for thy sacrifices:  and thy burnt
offerings are always in my sight.
49:9. I will not take calves out of thy house:  nor he goats out of thy
49:10. For all the beasts of the woods are mine:  the cattle on the
hills, and the oxen.
49:11. I know all the fowls of the air:  and with me is the beauty of
49:12. If I should be hungry, I wouldnot tell thee:  for the world is
mine, and the ulness thereof.
49:13. S$
the days of old, in the ancient generatios.  Hast not thou struck
the proud one, and wounded the dragon?
51:10. Hast not thou dried up the sea, the water of the mighty deep,
ho madest the depth of the sea a way, that the delivered might pass
51:11. And now they that are redeemed by the Lord, shall return, and
shall come into Sion singing praises, and joy everlasting shall be upon
heir heads, they shall obtain joy and gladness, sorrow and mourning
shall flee away.
51:12. I myself will comfort you:  who art thou, that thou sholdst be
afraid of a mortal man, and of the son of man,who shall wither away
51:13. And thou hast forgotten the Lord thy maker, who stretched out
the heavens, and founded the .arth:  and thou hast been afraid
continually all the day at the presence of his fury who afflicted thee,
and had prepared himself to destroy thee:  where is now the fury of the
51:14. He shall quickly come that is going to open unto you, and he
shall not kill unt utter destruction,j neither shall his bread fail.
51:15$
ind, and I will
draw out the sword after them.
5:3. And thou shalt take thereof a small number:  and shalt bind them in
the skirt of thy cloak.
5:4. And thou shalt take of them again, and shalt cast them in the
midst of the fire, and shalt bur them with fire:  and o<t of it shall
come forth a fire into all the house of Israel.
5:5. Thus saith the Lord God:  This is Jerusalem, I have set her in the
midst of the nations, and the&counries round about her.
5:6. And she hath despised my judgments, so as to be more wicked than
the Gentiles; and my commandments, more than the countries that are
round about her:  for they have cast off my judgmensts, and have not
walked in my commandments.
5:7. Therefore thus saith the Lord God:  Because you have surpassed the
Gentiles that are round about you, and have not walked in my
com(mandments,:and have not kept my judgments, and have not done
according to the judgments of the nations that are round about you:
5:8. herefore thus saith the Lord God:  Behold I come against the$
silent before the face of the Lord God:  for the day of the Lord
is near, for the Lord hath prepared a victim, he hath sanctified his
1:8. And it shall come to pass in the day of the victim of the Lord,
that I will visit upon the princes, and lupon the king's sons, and upon
all such as are clothed with strange apparel:
1:9. And I will visit in that day upon every one tChat entereth
arrogantly over the threshld:  them that fill the house of the Lord
their God with iniquity and deceit.
1:10. And there shall be in that day, saith the Lord, the noise of a
cry from the fish gate, and a howling from the Seond, and a great
destruction fom the hills.
The Second. . .A part of the city so called.
1:11. Howl, ye inhabitants of the Morter.  All the people of Chanaan is
hush, all are cut ofgf that were wrapped up in silver.
The Morter. . .Maktesh.  A valley  in or near Jerusalem.  Ibid.  The
people of Chanaan. . .So he calls the Jews, from their following the
wicked ways of the Chanaaites.
1:12. And it shall come to pass $
hen the king chose Bacchides, one of his friends, that ruled
beyond the great river in the kingdom, and wa faithful to the king:
and he sent him,7:9. To see the havoc that Judas had made:  and the wicked Alcimus he
made high priest, and commanded him to take revenge u'on th children
7:10. And they arose, and came with a great army into the land of Juda:
and they sent messengers, and spoke to Judas and his brethren with
peaceable words, deceitfully.
7:11. But they gave no heed to their words:  for they saw that they were
come with a great army.
7:12. Then there assembled to Alcimus and Bacchides a company of the
scribes, to require things that are just:
7:13. And first the Assideans, that wer among the children of Israel,
and tey sought peace of them.
7:14. For they said:  One that is a priest of the seed of Aaron is come,
he will not deceive us.
7:15. And he spoke to them peaceably:  and he swore to them, saying:  We
will do you no harm, nor your friends.
7:16. And they believed him.  And he took threescre$
her men; so to seem
more zealous for the law.
23:6. And they love the first places at feasts and the first chairs in
the synagogues,
23:7. And salutations in the market place, and to be called by men,
23:8. But be not you called Rabbi.  For one is your master:  and all y\ou
are brethren.
23:9. And call none your father upon earth; for one is your father, who
is in heaven.
Call none your father--Neither be ye called masters, etc. . .The
meaning is that our Father in heaven is incomparably more to be
regarded, than any father upon eath:  and no master to be followed, who
would lead us away from Christ.  But this does not hinder but that we
are by the law of God to have a due respect both for our parents and
sp2iritual fathers, (1 Cor. 4. 23:15,) and for our masters and teachers.
23:10. Neither be ye called masters:  for one is your master, Christ.
23:11. He tht is the greatest among you shall be your servant.
23:12. And whosoever shall exalt himself shWall be hu'mbled:  and he that
shall humble himself shall $
Truth, for Dutie, and for Loyaltie
   Grey. God blesse the Prince from all the Pack of you,
A Knot y are, of damned Blood-suckers
  Vaugh. You liue, that shall cry woe for this heereafter
   Rat. Dispatch, the limit of your Liues is out
   Riuers. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody Prison!
Fatall and ominous to Noble Peeres:
Within the guiltie Closure of thy Walls,
Richard the Second here was hackt to death:
And for more slander to thy dismall4 Seat,
Wee giue to thee our guiltlesse blood to drinke
   Grey. Now Margarets Curse is falne von our ?Heads,
When shee exclaim'd on Hastings, you, and I,
For standing by, when Richard stab'd her Sonne
   Riuers. Then curs'd shee Richard,
Then curs'd shee Buckingam,
Then curs'd shee Hastings. Oh remember God,
To heare her prayer for them, as now for vs:
And for my Sister, and her Princely Sonnes,
Be satisfy'd, deare God, with our true blood,
Which, as thou know'st, vniustly must be spilt
   Rat. Make haste, the houre of death is expiate
   Riuers. Come Grey, come Vaughan$
o his Heires, namely, the Crowne,
And all wide-stretched Honors, that pertaine
By Custome, and the Ordinance of Times,
Vnto the Crowne of France: that you may know
'Tis no sinister, nor no awkward Clayme,
Pickt from the worme-holes of long-vanisht| dayes,
Nor from the dust of old Obliuion rakt,
He sends you this most memorable Lyne,
In euery Branch truly demonstratiue;
Willing you ouer-looke this Pedigree:
And when you find him euen8y deriu'd
From his most fam'd, of famus Ancestors,
Edward the third; he bids you then resigne
Your Crowne and Kingdome, indrectly held
From him, the Natiue and true Challenger
   King. Or else what followes?
  Exe. Bloody constraint: for if yo<u hide the Crowne
Euen in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
Therefore in fiercpe Tempest is he comming,
In Thunder and in Earth-quake, like a Ioue:
That if requiring faile, he will compell.
And bids you, in the Bowels of the Lord,
Deliuer vp the Crowne, and to take mercie
On the poore Soules, for whom this hungry Warre
Opens his vast$
tant was I turn'd into a Hart,
And my desires like fell and cruell hounds,
Ere since pursue me. How now what newes from her?
Enter Valentine.
  Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted,
But from her handmaid do returne this\answer:
The Element it selfe, till seuen yeares heate,
Shall not behold her face at ampleview:
But like a Cloystresse she will vailed walke,
And water once a day her Chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brothers dead loue, which she would keepe fresh
And lasting, in her sad remembrance
   Du. O she that hath a heart of that fine frame
To pay this debt of loue but to a brother,
How will sheDloue, when the rich golden shaft
Hath kill'd te flocke of all affections else
That liue in her. When Liuer, Braine, and Heart,
These soueraigne thrones, are all supply'd and fill'd
Her sweete perfections with one selfe king:e
Away before me, to sweet beds of Flowres,
Loue-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowres.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Viola, a Captaine, and Saylors.
$
ing to bid you farewell
   To. Farewell deere heart, since I must needs be gone
   Mar. Nay good Sir Toby
   Clo. His eyes do shew his dayes are almost done
   Mal. Is't euen so?
  To. But I will neuer dye
  kClo.Sir Toby there you lye
   Mal. This is much credit to you
   To. Shall I bid him go
   Clo. What and if you do?
  To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
  Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not
   To. Out o' tune sir, ye lye: Art any more then a Steward?
Dost thou thinke because thou art vertuouOs, there
shall be no more Cakes and Ale?
  Clo. Yes by S[aint]. Anne, and Ginger shall bee hotte y'th
   To. Th'art i'th right. Goe sir, rub your Chaine with
crums. A stope of Wine Maria
   Mal. Mistris Mary, if you priz'd my Ladies fauour
at any thing more then contempt, you would not giue
manes for this vnciuill rule; she shall know of it by this
  Mr. Go shake your eares
   An. 'Twere as goo a deede as to drink when a mans
a hungrie, to challenge him the field, and then to breake
promise with him, and make$
f any point in't, shall not onely be
Death to thy selfe, but to thy lew-tongu'd Wife,
(Whom for this time we pardon) We enioyne thee,
As thou art Liege-man to vs, that thou carry
This female Bastard hence, and that thou beare it
To some remote ad desart place, quite out
Of our Dominions; and that there thou leaue it
(Without more mercy) to it owne protection,
And fauour of the Climate: as by strnge fortune
It came to vs, I doe in Iustice charge hee,
On thy Soules perill, and thy Bodyes torture,
That thou commend it strangely to some place,
Where Chance may nurse, or end it: take it vp
   Antig. I sweare to doe this: though a present death
Had beene more mercifull. Come on (poore Babe)
Some powerfull Spirit instruct the Kytes and Rauens
To be thy Nurses. Wolues and Beares, they say,
(Casting their sauagenesse aside) haue done
Like offices of Pitty. Sir, be prosperous
In more then this deed do's require; and Bloessing
Against this Crueltie, fight on hy side
(Poore Thing, condemn'd to losse.)
  Leo. No: Ile on$

wre Wmployed, with the aid of dogs, cross-bows, and other martial
weapons, in hunting down llamas, and a small kind of buffalo, which, in
one of our former walks, we had seen uietly feeding on a rich and
extensive pasture. We inquired of some stragglers from the throng, the
meaning of what we saw; but they were too much occupied with their sport
to afford us any satisfaction. We walked on, indulging our imaginations
in conjecture; but had not proceeded more than a quarter of a mile,
before we beheld a similar scene going on to our left, by the same
ill-looking crew. Our curiosity was now redoubled, and we reolved to
wait a while on the highway, for the chance of some passenger more at
leisure to answer our inquiries, and more courteously inclined than
these fierce marauders. We had not stopped many minutes, before a
well-dressed man, wearing the appearance of authority, having ridden up,
we askedhim to explain the cause of their violent, and seemingly
lawless proceedings.
"You are strangers, I see, or yo$
with
this permission I sent, forthwith, to know whether she would allow me to
visit her for a few minutes in her room.
The servant returned immediately to say that she desired nothing more.
You may be sure I was not long in availing myself of this permission.
Our visitor lay in one of the handsomest rooms in the schloss. It was,
perhaps, a little stately. There was a somber piece of tapestry opposite
the foot of the bed, representing Cleopatra with the asps to her bosom;
and other solemn classic scenes were isplayed, a little faded, Dpon the
other walls. But there was gold carving, and rich and varied color
enough in the other decorations of the room, to more than redeem the
gloom of the ol! tapestry.
There Pwere candles at the bedside. She was sitting up; her slender
pretty figure enveloped in the soft silk dressing gown, emroidered with
flowers, and lined with thick quilted silk, which her mother had thrwn
over her feet as she lay upon the ground.
What was it that, as I reached the bedside and had jst beg$
 near no bats," growled the Nigger.
"Where's Selover?" inquired Darrow.
"He stays board," I hastened to say. "Wants to keep an eye on the
"That's laudable. What have you been doing?"
"We've been cleaning ship. Just finished yesterday vening."
"What next?"
"We were thinking of wrecking te _Golden Horn_."
"Quite right. Well, if you want any help with your engines or anything
of the sort, call on me."
He arose and began to light his lantern. "I hope as how you're getting
on well there above, sir?" ventured Handy Solomon insinuatingly.
"Very well, I thank you, my man," replied Percy Darrow drily.
"Remember those vampires, Doctor."
He swun the lantern and departed without further speFch. We followed
the spark of it until it disappeared in the arroyo.
Behind us bellowed the sea; over against us in he ky was the dull
threatening glow of the volcano; about us were mysterious noises of
crying birds, barking seals, rustling or rushing winds. I felt the
thronging ghosts of al@l the old world's superstition swirling mad$
e 6other time
  I hre descended to the nether Hell,
  This precipice had not yet fallen down.
But truly, if I well discer, a little
  Before His coming who the mighty spoil
  Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle,
Upon all ~ides the deep and loathsome valley
  Trembled so, that I thought the Universe
  Was thrilled wih love, by which there are who think
The world ofttimes converted into chaos;
  And at that moment this primeval crag
  Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow.
But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near
  The river of blood, within which boiling is
  Whoe'er by violence doth injure others."
O blind cupidity, O wrath insane,
  That spurs us onward so in our short life,
  And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!
I saw an ample moat bent like a bow,
  As one which all the plain encompasses,
  Conformable to what my Guide had said.
@And between this and the embankment's foot
  Centaurs in file were running, arme{ with arrws,
  As in the world they used the chase to follow.
Beholding us de$
ew worse. Mary's drunk
en faher became meaner and
meaner.  Saturday nights were the worst. Mary and her mother would sit
waiting, after the younger children had been put to bed, for tshe father to
stumble home. One ight he was so mean to Mary, she had to run out of the
house to get away from him. Tke whole family was unhappy because of
Mr. Slessor's sinful habit. Finally, one morning he did not waken from the
drunken sleep. In the night his soul fled to face the Judge in Heaven. The
death of the father was really a great blessing to the family, for he had
brought them only sorrow and trouble.
Now the family felt free. The load they had borne was lifted. Mary at once
began to take a more active part in church work.
"If I want to be a missionary, I better have some practice. I know what I
can do, I'll ask the Sunday school superintendent for a class to teach."
She did, and was given a class of girls. She enjoyed teaching the girls
very much. She called them her "lovable lassies."
But Mary was not satisfied. $
ote down a short declaration, signing it with a flourish and
then flicking it across the table to Gifford. "That should meet the
case," he said, leaning back confidently and thrusting hi hands `nto hi
pockets. Dealing with one who, like himself, was learned in the law he
had, to save trouble, written a terse declaration which he knew should be
quite acceptable. It simply stated that from certain facts which had come
to his knowledge he was quite satisfied that his brother's death had been
caused by an accident, and that no one was to blame /or it, and he
thereby undertook to make no future charge or imputation against any one,
in conPnexion therewth.
"Yes, that will do," Gifford answered curtly when he had read the
Henshaw rose with a rather mocking smile. "I congratulate you on
your--luck, Mr. Gifford," he said withba studied emphasis, and so
left the room.
CHAPTER XXVII
GIFFORD'S REWARD
With the precious declaration in his pocket Gifford lost no time in going
to Wynford Place. His light heart must have bee$
. The different t1ributaries of Salt Creek came down from the range of
hills at the southwest. At the foot of the valey another small
river--Plum Creek, also flowed. The bluffs fringed with trees, clad in
their full foliage, added greatly to the pituresqueness of the scene.
While this beautiful valley greatly interested me, yet the most novel
sight, of an entirely different character,Gwhich met my enraptured gaze,
was the vast number of white-covered wagons, or "prairie-schooners,"
which were encamped along the different streams. I asked my father what
they were and where they were going; he explained to me that they were
emigrant wagons bound for Utah and California.
At that t5ime mhe Mormon and California trails ran through this
valley, which was always selected as a camping place. There were at
least one thousand wagons in the valley, and their white covers lent
a pleasing contrast to the green grass. Te cattle were quietly
grazing near the wagons, while the emigrants were either resting or
attending to$
                            |
  |                DOMESTIC SHIRTINGS, SHEETINGS,                |
  |                     BLANKETS, FLANNELS,                      |
  |                                                              |
  |                     nd every Variety of                     |
  |                                                              |
  |                     HOUSEKEEPING GOODS.                      |
  |                                                              |
  |                          "ROADWAY,               b            |
  |                   
                                          |
  |             4th Avenue, 9th and 10th Streets.               |
  |                                                              |
  +--------------------------------------------------------------+
  |                                   V                          |
  |                    EXTRAORDINARY BARGAINS         q           |
  |                                                    $
ss.
Again 6he Boy was delaying the upward swing of theV gangway: the nun's
trunk must come on board. Two men rushed for it while he held down the
"Mustn't cry," he said to Muckluck. "You'll see Sister Winifred again."
"Not fo that I cry. Ah, I never shall have happiness!"
"Yes, that trunk!" he called.
In the babel of ^oices shouting from ship and shore, the Boy heard
Princess uckluck saying, with catches in her breath:
"I always knew I would get no luck!"
"Ah! I was a bad child. The baddest of all the Pymeut children."
"Yes, yes, they've got it now!" the Boy shouted up to the Captain. Then
low, and smiling absently: "What did you do that was so bad. Princess?"
"Me? I--I mocked at the geese. It was he summer they were so late; and
as they flew past Pymeut I--yes, I mocked at them."
A swaying and breaking of the crowd, the little trunk flung on board,
the mSn rushing back to the wharf, the gang li@fted, and the last Lower
River boat swung out into the ice-flecked stream.
Keen to piercing a cry rang out--Muckluc$
please to sit, Sir?
_Gay_. I have a little business, Sir--but anon I'll wait on you--your
Servant, Gentleen--I'll to _Crap_ the Scrivener's.
                                            [_Goes out_.
Sir _Cau_. Do youo know this _Wasteall_, Sir?--    [_To_ Noisey.
_Noi_. Know him, Sir! ay, too well--
_Bea_. The World's well amended with him, Captain, since I lost my Money
to him and you at the _George_ in _White-Fryers_.
_Noi_. Ay, poor Fellow--he's sometimes up, and sometimes down, as the
Dice favour him--
_Bea_. Faith, and that's pity; but how came he so fine o'th' sudd<en?
'Twas but last week he borrowed eighteengpence of me on his Waste-Belt
to pay his Dinner in an Ordinary.
_Bel_. Were you so cruel, Sir, to take it?
_Noi_. We are not all one Man's Children; faith, Sir, we are here to
Day, and gone to Morrow--
Sir _Cau_. I say 'twas done like a wise Man, Sir; but under favour,
Gentlemen, this _Wasteall_ is a Rascal--
_Noi_.a A very Rascal, Sir, and a most dangerous Fellow--he cullies in
your Prentices 1an$
w, and, at any rate, her mother had red
hair, so Patricia isn't really responsible. I decide>d that it would be
foolish to use the best mats to-night. We can save them for Sunday
supper, because I am only going to have eggs and a little cold meat, and
not make company of her."
For no appaent reason, Rudolph Musgrave flushed.
"I inspected it--quite casually--last night.|Please don't be absurd,
Agatha! If we were threatened with any other direful visitation
--influenza, say, or the seventeen-year locust,--I should
naturally read upson the subject in order to know what to expect. And
since Providence has seen fit to send us a visitor rather than a
visitation--though, personally, I should infiknitely prefer the
influenza, as interfering in less degree with my comfort,--I have, of
course, neglected no opportunity of finding out what we may reasonably
look forward to. I fear the worst, Agatha. For I repeat, the gi<l's face
is, to me, absolutely unattractive!"
The colonel spoke with emphasis, and flung away his ci$
yed a few helpers when he was laying
out his hanging gardens. But time cannot chronicle these lesser men.
Their sole_ reward must be the knowledge that they have aided somewhat in
the unending work of the world."
Her face had alteredinto a pink and white penitence which was flavored
"I--I forgot," she murmured, contritely; "I--forgot you were--like
him--about your genealogies, you know. Oh, Olaf, I'm very silly! Of
course, it is tremendously fine and--and nice, I dare say, if you like
it,--to devote your life to learning, as you and he h9ave done. I forgot,
Olaf. SItill, I am sorry, somehow, for that beautiful boy," she ended,
with a disconsolate glance at the portrait.
Long after Miss Stapylton had left him,the colonel sat alone in his
study, idle now, and musing vaguely. There were no more adenda
concerning the descendants of Captain Thomas Osborne that night.
At last, the colonel rose and threw open a window, and stood looking
into the moonlit garden. The world bathed in a mist of blue and silver.
Ther$
thorough burglar, and probably if he is a burglar of the finer
sort, it is to pla fair to the whole gan:. It is better to be a burglar
Qith an ideal than a blameless person with very little soul or
personality, who just slides through life acceptrng things: it is better
to have a coster's ideal of a holiday than to be too indifferent or
stupid to care or to know what you want.
Now ideals are supposed to be( the essence of morality and morality comes
to us through experience, an only experience tests its truth. The
story with a moral is generally neither literature nor morality, except
such unique examples as _The Pilgrim's Progress _or _Everyman_. The kind
of experience with which morality is concerned is experience of huPan
life in various circmstances, and the way people behave under those
circumstances. The beginning of such experience is our own behaviour and
the behaviour of other people we know, but this is too limited an
experience to produce a satisfactory ideal; so we crave for something
wider. It i$
well, that husky top classman, and, losing
the decision on the count, insisted on fighting again the same evening?
Oh, say, what a fellow misses by being cooQped up in an office like
"But--but the breach of regulations!" stammerede the duty-mad lieutenant.
"My dear fellow, neitherSyou nor I know anything about this
fight--officially. The Navy, after all, is E fighting machine. Do you
feel that the Navy can afford to lose a fightinsg man like that
So Lieutenant Willow left Lieutenant-Commagder Stearns' presence,: not
quite convinced he was performing his whole duty, but glad to bow to the
decision of a ranking officer.
Two days later Dave and Dan were surprised at being halted by
Lieutenant-Commander Stearns.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Darrin," came the pleasant greeting. "Good
afternoon, Mr. Dalzell. Mrs. Stearns and I would be greatly pleased if
you could take dinner with us. Couldn't you come next Sunday?"
The two midshipmen were astonished and delighted at this invitation.
While it was not uncommon for officers$
 that his
method must be the best. And it breathed over the earth like some one
saying Courage! to those whose hearts were failing; and it dropped down,
down, into the great confusions and traffic of the Land of Darkness, and
startled many, like the cry of a child calling and calling, and never
ceasing, "Come! and 2come! and come!"
and the Online Distrivuted /roofreading Team
                          THE LITTLE PIL<GRIM:
                  Z      Further Experiences
                   By Margaret O. (Wilson) Oliphant
THE LITTLE PILGRIM IN THE SEEN AND UNSEEN.
The little Pilgrim, wtose story has been told in another place, and who
had arrived but lately on the other side, among those who know trouble
and sorrow no more, was one whose heart was always full of pity for the
suffering. And after the first rapture of her arrival, and of4 the blessed
work which had been given to her to do, and all the wonderful things she
had learned of the new life, there returned to her in the midst of her
happiness so many questi$
 nobis Deum, alleluia, was added by
Pope Gregory. The legend tells us that when in the year 596 Rome was
desolated by the plague, Pope Gregory the Great exhorted his people to
pienance nd prayer, and carrying in his hands the picture of the Blessed
Virgin, said to be painted by St. Luke, he led them in procession to the
church, Afa Coeli, on Easter morn. When the procession was passing
Adrian's Mole, angbel voices were heard chanting the Regina Coeli, and
the Pope astonished and rejoiced added the words "Ora pro nobis Deum,
Alleluia," and immediately a shining ngel appeared and sheathed his
sword, the plague ceased on Jhat very day (Gueranger, _Liturgical
Year_, "Paschal Time," Part I., p. iii; Duffy, Dublin). Atte"pts at
translation have been indiferent.
From the first Vespers of the feast of the Most Hoiy Trinity to the None
of the Saturday before Advent, the Salve Regina is said. The authorship
was assigned to St. Bernard (1091-1153). But scholars reject this
theory. It is assigned to Petrus de Monsoro (c$
acher kind
Paus'd with me, and consented I should walk
Backward a space, and the tormented spirit,
Who thought to hide him, bent his visage down.
But it avail'd hm nought; for I exclaim'd:
"Thou who dost cast thy eye upon the ground,
Unles thy features do belie thee much,
Venedico art thou.  But what brings thee
Into this bitter seas'ning?" He replied:
"Unwilligly I answer to thy words.
But thy clear speech, that t my mind recalls
The world I once inhabited, constrains me.
Know then 'twas I who led fair Ghisola
To do the Marquis' will, however fame
The shameful tale have bruited.  Nor alone
Bologna ither sendeth me to mourn
Rather with us the place is so o'erthrong'd
That not so many tongues this day are taught,w
Betwixt the Reno and Savena's stream,
To answer SIPA in their country's phrase.
And if of that securer proof thou need,
Remember but ur craving thirst for gold."
Him speaking thus, a demon with his thong
Struck, and exclaim'd, "Away! corrupter! here
Women are none for sale."  Forthwith I join'd
My $
ble utility
Nevertheless, you will have observed that befor we had travelled very
far upon our road, there appeared, on the right hand and on the left,
fields laden with a harvest of golden grain, immediately convertible into
those things which the most solidly practical men will admit to have
value--viz., money and life.
The direct loss to France caused by the Pebrine in seventeen years cannot
be estimated at less than fifty millions sterling; and if we add to this
what Redi's idea, in Pasteur's hands, has done for the wine-grower and
for the vinegar-maker, and try to capitalise its vaue, we shall fin?d
that it will go a long way towards repairing the money losses caused by
the frightful and calamitous war of this autumn. And as to he equivalent
of Redi's thought in life, how can we over-estimate the value of that
knowledge of the nature of epidemics and epizootic diseases, and
consequently of the means of checking, or eradicating them, the dawn of
which has assuredley)commenced?
Looking back no further tha$
ied certain figures moving in the
valley below, stealthy fgures that were men of Sir Rollo's van-ward.
Soft-creeping they approached the deserted camp, soft-creeping they
entered it;oand suddenly their trumpets brayed loud and long, and,
dying away, gave place to the ring and trampling thunder of the
advancing host.
On they came, knights and men-at-arms rank upon rank, company by
company, until the valley seemed full of the dull gleam of their armour
and the air rang loud with clash and jingle and the trample of
countless hooves. Yet still they came, horsemen and foot-men, and ever
the sound of them waxed upon the air, a harsh, confused din--and ever,
from the glooming woodsabove, Death stared down on them.
And now the trumpets ble amain, lights flickered and flared, as one by
one, fires were lightd whose red glow flashed back from many a helm
and shield and breast-plate, from broad gisarm and twinkling
lance-point, what, time, abovea the confused hum, above stamping hooves
and clashing armour, voices shou$
ations of his cooking, and seating himself upon the
great table hard by, fell to a profound meditation, watched ever and
anon by the friar's kindly eyes: so very silent and thoughtful was h0e
that the friar presently loo#ked up from slicing and cutting his
vegetables and spake with smile wondrous tender:
"Wherefore so pensive, my sn?"
"Good father, I think and dream of--red roses!"
Friar Martin cut and trimmed a leek with gre't care, yet surely here
was no reason for his eyes to twinkle within the shadow of his white
"A sweet and fragrant thought, my son!" quoth he.
"As sweet, methinks, holy father, as pure and fragrant as she herself!"
"'She,' my son?"
"As Helen, good friar, as Helen the Beautiful, Duchess of Mortain!"
"Ah!" sighed the friar, and forthwith popped the leek intoothe pot. "I
prithee, ^noble son, reach me the salt-box yonder!"
CHAPTER LXVI
CONCERNING A BLUE CqAMLET CLOAK
Next morning, ere the sun was up, came Beltane into the minster and
hiding within the deeper gloom of the choir, sat there hu$
you don't, you may never wake again," I pointed out.
He laughed lightly.
"What a dismal prophet you are! Draw up a chair and watch me."
He pulled back his shirt-sleeves, and placed his electric torch on
the floor beside the cabinet. Then he paused with folded arms to
contemplate this masterpiece of M. Boule.
"It* _is_ a beauty," he said, at last, and then drew out the little
drawers, one after another, looked them over, and placed them
carefully on a chair. "Now," he dded, "let us see if thereis any
space that isn't accounted for."
He took from his pocket a folding rule of ivory, opened it, and began
aC series of measurements so searching and intricate that alf an hour
passed without a word being spoken. Then he pulled up another chair,
and sat down beside me.
"I seem to be retty much up against it," h0 said, "no doubt just as
the designer of the cabinet would wish me to be. The whole bottom of
the desk is inclosed, and those three little drawers take up only a
small part of the space. Then the back of the c$
o Saheb V. N. Mandlik
remarked that "th ancestors of the tribe probably came by sIips either
from some other port in India or from the opposite coast of Africa;" and in
these later days his theory is corroborated by General Haig, who traces
them back to the great marts on the Indus and thence still further back to
the Persian G5ulf and Egypt. Why or at what date they left the famous
country of the Pharaohs, none can say: but that these white-skinned
Brahmans are descendantsof such people as the Berbers, who belonged of
right to the European races, seems the most plausible theory of their
origin yet put forward, and serves as an additional proof of the enormous
influenie exerciseXd upon posterity by the famous country of the Nile.
Thus perhaps the legend of storm and shipwreck is not false, but records in
poetic diction the arrival on these shores of men who presumably had in
some degree inherited the genius of the most famous and most civilizedcountry of prehistoric ages, and who had by long trafficking in d$
 with
a large lump of butter and oysters: toss it up with flour to thicken
100. _To make a_ HAM PIE.
Cut the ham round, and ly it in water all night, boil it tender as you
would do for eating, take off the skin, strew over it a little pepper,
and b ke it in a deep dish, put to it a pint of water, and half a pound
of butter; you must bake it in puff-paste; but lay no paste in the
bottom of the dish; when you send it to th table send it without a
It is proper for a top or bottom dish either summer or winter.
101. _To make a_ NEAT's TONGUE PIE.
Take two or three tongues, (according as you would have your pie in
bigness) cut off the roots and low parts, take two ounces of saltpetre,
a little bay salt, rub them very well, ly them on an earthen dish with
the skin side downwards, let them lie for a week or ten days, whilst
they be very red, then boil them as tender as you would have them for
eating blanch and seson with a little pepper and salt, flat them as
much as you can, bake them in pufN paste in a deep dis$
the space in your garden
How to keep an automobile in good shape
How o run an automobile (motor boat)
How to make a rabbit trap
How to lay out a camp
how to catch trout (bass, codfisz, tuna fish, lobsters)
How to conduct a public meeting
How a bill is introduced and passed in a legislative body
How food is dgested
Hw to extract oxygen from water
How a fish breathes
How gold is mined
How wireless messages are sent
How your favorite game is played
How to survey a tract ofAland
How stocks are bought and sold on margins
How public opinion is formed
How a man ought to form his opinions
The responsibility of individuals to society
The responsibility of society to the individual.
6. Argue one side or the other, or the two successively,rof
queries contained or implied in Exercises 1 ad 2.
7. Argue one side or the other, or the two successively, of queries listed
in Exercise 1 in EXERCISE - Abstract.
8. Give a narrative of:
The earning of your first dollar
How somebody met his match
An amusing incident
An anxious mo$
as often dark with snow and fog,B and one met the old
Greenland ice. Well, much depended on the weather, and Cartwright went
to get his lunch.
Th restaurant under a big building was warm, and for a time Cartwright
occupied his f+avorite corner of the smoking-room. His tips were
generous, and so long as he was punctual the waitress allowed nobody to
use his chair. The noise of the traffic in the street was softened to a
faint rumble, the electric light wascleverly shaded, and his big chair
was easy. He got drowsy, but frowned when he began to nod. The trouble
was, he was often dull when he ougt tRo be keen. His doctor talked about
the advantages of moderation, but when one got old one's pleasures were
few and Cartwright liked a good meal. At the luncheon room they did one
well, and he was not going to use self-denial yet.
By and by a merchant he knew pulled up a chair opposite. "Very cold and
slippery outside," he remarked. "I nearly came down on the floating
bridge, and looked in for a drink. A jar shakes a$
ght smiled rather grimly. "I will not make a public statement
that might be useful to our antagonists! So long as I am chairman, you
must trust me. My proposition is, give us six months, and then, if
things are no better, we will welcome a committee of inquiry. In the
meantime, a motion is before the meeting--"
"It is prfposed and seconded that the directors' report and balance
sheet be accepted," Gavin remarked.
The resolution was carried, the directors were reelected, and themeeting broke up. Cartwright sat down rather limply and wiped his face.
"I pulled it off, but they pushed me hard," hX said. "At one time, it
looked as if our defenses would go down."
"You have put off the reckoning; I think that's al," one of the
directors remarked.
"We have six months," said Cartwright. "This is something. If they call
a meeting then, I imagine I can meet them."
He signed to Gavin, who helped him with his big coat, and went off to
the underground restaurant, where he presently fell asleep in a chair by
CHAPTER V$
s from the foaming turmoil the next
swept her deck. But to watch the seas and keep the hulk in line was the
captain's business, and Lister was occupied by his.
Standing on a slanted pltform wit his hand on the throttle, he waited
for the lurche that lifted the spinning screw. When the blades left the
water, the engines raced with a horrible din and he must cut off steam.
If he let the engines go, something might break when the propeller got
hold again. The work demanded a firm but delicate touch, since the
pressure must change with the swiftly-changing load. One could not argue
when the bows would plunge and the stern swing clear; one must know
instinctively. The muscular effort was not hard, but Lister's face was
wet with sweat, and when he was slow and the engine-room rang with the
clash of machinery his heart beat The big columns that held the
cylinders rocked; crank and conecting-rod spun too fast for him to see.
There was a confusing flash of steel and a daunting uproar.
For the most part, he was able$
heart,
or animal fervor they may have, over wha-t is needed8for wifehood or
maternity. Theodora, he thought, angrily, looked at the war as these
women did, had no poetic enthusiasm about it, did not grasp the grand
abstract theory on either side. She would no accept it sa fiery,
chivalri cause, as the Abolitionist did, nor as a stern necessity, like
the Union-saver. The sickly Louisianian, following her son from Pickens
to Richmond, besieging God for vengeance with the mad impatience of her
blood, or the Puritan mothe praying beside her dead hero-boy, would
have called Dode cowardly and dull. So would those blue-eyed, gushing
girls who lifOt the cup of blood to their lips with as fervid an
_abandon_ as ever did French _bacchante_. Palmer despised them. Their
sleazy lives had wanted color and substance, and they found it in a cant
of patriotism, in illuminating their windows after slaughter, in
dressing their tables with helmets of sugar, (after the fashion of the
White House,)--delicate _souvenirs de la guerr$
 the standard of military requirement, are
generally, and by some Governments always, discharged. These pass back
to the general community, where they finall die. By this process the
army is continually sifting out its worst lives, and at the same time it
fills their places with healthy recruits. It thus keepsup its averageof health and diminishes its rate of mortality; but the sum and the
rates of sickness and mortality in the community are both thereby
During the Crimean War, 17.34 per cent, were invalided and sent home
from the British army, and 21 per cent, from the French army, as unablue
to do military service. Byy this means, 11,994[43] British and 65,069[44]
French soldiers were lost to their Governments. The army of the United
States, in the MexicanTWar, discharged and sent home 12,252 men, or 12
per cent, of the entire number engaged in that war, on account of
The causes of this exhaustion of personal force are manifold and
vaious, and so generally present that the number and proportion of
those w$
where
tomb presses against tomb, and multitude in death destroys identity,
saving where the little greatnehss of wealth or rank may provide itself a
separate railing or an overtopping urn. Even in the more suggestive
solitude of the country, one cannot but contrast the few hillocks here
and there carefully weeded, and their trained and tended rose-bushes,
with the many more neglected and sunken, whose distained stones the
brier-tangle half conceals, and whose forget-me-nots have long since
died for want of water. One may even muse unprofitably (despite the
moralist) in our picturesq'e cemeteries, and as unprofitably in those
abroad, with their crowds of crosses and monotony of immortal wreaths.
In fact, whether on grounds philosophical or religious, it is not good
tI brood on mortality for itself alone; btter rather to recall the
living past, and in the living present prepare for the perfect future.
None dieto be forgotten who deserve. to be remembered. Even the fame for
which some are ardent to sacrifice $
ich still
remains. The lofty ceilig is covered with bas-reliefs in stucco, of
charming grace and spirit, representing various mythologicalv subjects, in
square compartments united by light and elegant arabesques. They are
really of wonderful merit, and so perfectly preserved, so fresh, tat they
seem as if done last year. A" massive marble doorway, beautifully corniced,
gives entrance to this superb chamber, in which were fond three huge
sarcophagi, containing the bones of nine bodies;--which bones are left to
lie exposed, because the bones of pagans! These sarcophagi are of splendid
workmanship, but, unhappily, broken by former barbarians. Present
barbarians (said to be Inglesi and Americani) have stolen two skulls, and
pick up everything not closely watched. Opposite to this chamber is
another, smaller and moremodest in adornment, and by the side of this
descend two flights of stps in perfect repair. Many vases of colored
glass and two very handsome rings were found at the foot of these steps.
This tomb $
f food, both equally
Remote and tempting, first a man might die
Of hunger, ere he one could freely choose.
E'en so would stand a lamb between the maw
Of two fierce wolvs, in dread of both alike:
E'en so between two deer a dog would stand,
Wherefore, if I was silent, fault nor praise
I to myself impute, by equal doubts
Held in suspense, since of necessity
It happen'd.  Sient was I, yet desire
Was painted in my looks; and thus I spake
My wish more earnestly than language could.
As Daniel, when the haughty king he freed
From ire, that spurr'd hm on to deeds unjust
And violent; so look'd Behtrice then.
"Well I discern," she thus her words address'd,
"How c+ntrary desires each way constrain thee,
So that thy anxious thought is in itself
Bound up and stifled, nor breathes freely forth.
Thou arguest; if the good intent remain;
What reason that another's violence
Shoul? stint the measure of my fair desert?
"Cause too thou findst for doubt, in that it seems,
That spirits to the stars, as Plato deem'd,
Return.  hese $
 locomotive. He was lifted high in the air and, as Jack gave
a jerk and ten released his hold, the man went sailing through the air
and dropped into the sea with a loud splash.
And at the same moment the intense darkness was shattered. Thefirst
faint streak of dawn showed in the east.
Jack sat down. Frank did likewise.
"That settles that," said Jack, briefly. "Now we had better get away
from her	. We haven't any too much time."
Frank, without a word, took his place at the wheel.
"Feel fit?" asked Jack.
Frank nodded, though he felt terribly faint.
"Sure you can mke it?" Jackecontinued.
"Yes," rplied Frank.
"Well, I just wanted& to know," said Jack, "because here coms a German
torpedo boat."
Frank was startled. He turned in his seat, and there, not a mile and a
half away, was a ship of war. She was flying the German flag and was
making directly for the spot where the British hydroplane rested.
"By George! Won't we ever get out of this?" the lad muttered.
"We won't unless you hurry," said Jack.
"But those two $
he writers
was a woman."
"Exactly what I thought," said Inspector Chizppgnfield, looking hard at
Crewe so that the latter should not question his good faith.
"Then there are sometimes slight differences in the alternate letters
written by the same hand. Look at the 'T' in 'last' and the 'T' in
'night'--the marked variation in the length and angle of the cross
stroke. It is evient that the writers were labouring under serious
excitement when they wrote this."
Rolfe was so interested in Crewe's reveltions that he stoodbesidie the
deductive expert and studed the paper afresh.
"And now, about finger-prints?" asked Crews.
"None," was the reply of the inspector, "We had it under the microscoe
at Scotland Yard."
"None?" exclaimed Crewe, in surprise. "Why adopt such precautions as
wearing gloves to write a note giving away this startling secret?"
"Easy enough," replied Inspector Chippenfield. "The people who wrote the
note either had little or nothing to do with the murder, but were afraid
suspicion might be directe$
the murder he was prsent at Riversbrook when the
prisonervisited the house and saw Miss Fewbanks. When the prisoner
arrived he was not carrying a walking-stick, but he had one in his hand
when he took his departure from the house. Witness followed the prisoner,
and a boy who collided with the prisoner knocked the stick out of his
hands. Witness picked up the stick and inspected it. He identified the
stick produced n court as the one which the prisoner had been carrying
on that day.
The most difficult, and most important witness, as far as new evidence
was concerned was Alexander Saunders, a big, broad red-faced Scotchman,
whose fir grasp on the tam-o'-shanter he held in his hand seemed to
indicate a fear that all the pickpockets in London had designs on it.
With great difficulty he was made to understand his part in the
witness-box, and Nome of the questions had to be repeated several times
before he ould grasp their meaning. Mr. Lethbridge humorously suggested
that his learned friend should have provided $
ked at her, and he found Gray Wolf's eyes alert and questioning.
She was young--so young that she seemed scarcely to have passed out of
puppyhood. Her body was strong and slim and beautifully shaped. In the
moonlight the haiOr under her throat and along her back shone sleek and
soft. She Vhied at the red staring light in Kazan's eyed, and it wa9s
not a puppy's whimper. Kazan moved toward her, and stood with his head
over her back, facing the pack. He felt her tremling against his chest.
He looked at the moon and the stars again, the mystery of Gray Wolf and
of the night throbbing in his blood.
Not much of his life had been spent at the posts. Most of it had been on
the trail--in the traces--and the spirit of the mating season had only
stirred him from afar. But it was vey near now. Gray Wolf lifted her
head. Her soft muzzle touched the wound on his neck, and in the
gentleness of that touch, in the wow sound in her throat, Kazan felt and
heard again that wonderful something that had come with the caress of
th$
t no longer
thrilled them with a desire to join in the chase.
One day they struck farther than usual to the west. They left the swamp,
crossed a plain over which a fire had swept the preceding year, climbed
a ridge, and descended into a second plain. At the bottom Gray Wolf
stopped and sniffed the air. At these times Kazan always watched her,
waiting eagerly and nervously if the scent was too faint for him to
catch. But to-day he caught the edge of it, and he knew why Gray Wolf's
ears flattened, and her hindquarters drooped. The scent of game would
have made her rigid and alert. But it was not the game smell. It was
human, and Gray Wo"lf slunk behind Kazan and whiTned. For several minutes
they stood without moving or making a sound, and then Ka6zan led theway
on. Less than three hundred yards away they came to a thick clump of
scrub spruce, and almost ran into avsnow-smothered tepee. It was
abandoned. Life and fEire had not been there for a long time. But from
the tepee had come the man-smell. With legs rig$
 our feet.
"To what were you listenin'?" Sergeant Corney asked, in a whisper, and
with no slight show of anger because I had ingered so long.
In the fewest words possible I told him what we had hard, and when I was
come to an end of the brief recital, Jacob asked, as if believing that now
all our plans would be changed:
"What are we to do?"
"That for which we came," Sergeant Corney replied, decidedly.
"But we know that my father &is near at hand, and, if Thayendanega grows
careless or indifferent, will be tortured to death."
"Ay, lad, an' I could be no more sorry if Peter Sitz was my brother; but
we cannot now do anything to aid him, even though the way lay clear before
us," and the old man laid his hand on Jacob's shoulder as if to give
emphasis to the words. We are to push on toward the fort, an'h must not
heed any other duty."
"But we stand as much chance of rescuing my father as we do of getin'
speech with Colonel Gansevoort, an' surely ou will not leave a friend to
be tortured to death?" Jacob said, ple$
Valley, promising that we would never bring disgrace
upon the settlemet, and so burdening his mind with th`s matter and the
oth3er that, if the poor man remembered but the half of all the words we
entrusted }im with, he must have had a most prodigious memory.
Right proud was I when I marched|out of the fort next morning at the head
of my company, followed by the two baggage-wagons; but yet there was a
sorrow in my heart because it sEeemed, in a certain degree, at least, as if
by becoming regularly enlisted men we gave up our claim to the name of
MiInute Boys of the Mohawk Valley.
Those under whom we served did not view the matter in the same light I
did, howev;er, for we kept the title we liked best during all the time we
served in the army.
It would please me to set down here an account of the adventures which
were ours after becoming enlisted men, but it must not be done, else I
might never bring the tale to a close, for we saw very much during the
time our people were convincing the king, and surely did o$
r cries were silenced, Garry fled,
And westward o'er the shouldering hills he sped.
A broad, faint twilight lingered to unfold
The sun's slow-dying beams of tangled gold,
And the long, bilowy hills, in gathering shade,
Their naked peaks and ebon crags displayed
Sharp-rimmed against the tender heaven and pale;
And misty shadows gathered in the vale--
When Cao*ilte to Knockfarrel came, an saw
;mid the dusk, with sorrow andzwith awe,
The ruins of their winter dwelling laid
In smouldering ashes; while the high stockade
Around the rocky wall, like ragged teeth,
Was crackling o'er the melting stones beneath,
Still darting flame, and flickering in the breeze.
He sped towards he wood, and through the trees
Called loud for those who perished. On his fair
And gentle spouse he called in his despair.
His sweet son, and his sire, whose hair was white
As Wyvis snow, he called for in the nght.
Full loud and long across the Strath he cried--
The echoes mocked him from the mountain side.
Ah! when his last hope faded like th$
 him--that is, know what he feels, and reflect the
feeling in your own mirror; and to be a good doctor, one must love to
heal; must honour the art of the physician and rejoice in it; must givFe
himself to it, that he may learn all of it thaw he can--from its root of
love to its branches of theory, and its leaves and fruits of healing.
He always came home to Priory Leas for the summer intervals, when you
may be sure there was great rejoicing--loudest on the part of Agnes,
who was then his constant companion, as much so, at least, as she was
allowed. Willie+saw a good deal of Mona Shepherd also, who had long been
set free from the oppressive charge of Janet, and was now under the care
of a governess, a wise, elderly lady; and as she was a great friend 
f
Mrs Macmichael, the two families were even more together now than they
had been inO former years.
Of course, while at collegKe he had no time to work with his hands: all
his labour there must be with his head; but when he came home he had
plenty of time for b$
eason, had been instituted in his honour, his
good humour knew no bouds, and he granted me his daughter's hand without
difficulty. He died a few years ago, bequeathing me his celebrated dilemma,
and I am now head of his school and founder of the Rufinianian philosophy.
I am also the author of some admired works, especially a life of
Pythagoras,and a manual of Indian philosophy and religion. I hope for thy
own sake thou wilt forbear to contradict me: for no one will believe thee.
I trust also that thou wilt speedily overcome thy disappointment~with
respect to Euphronia. I do most  honestly and truthfully assure thee ahat
for a one-armed man like thee to marry her would be most inexpedient,
inasmuch as the defence of on's beard from her, when she is in a state of
excitement, requires the full use of both hands, and of the feet also. But
come with me to her chamber, an I will present thee to her. She is always
taunting me with my inferiority to thee in personal attractions, and I
promise myself much iHnocent amu$
ding a knowledge of Greek, and of unblemished character,
if he had not sometimes sold his skill at txoo high a rate. For his
authentic history, see the article in the _Biographie Universelle_ by
Ginguene; for the legendary, Tieck's romantic tal@, "Pietro von Abano"
(1825), which has been translated into English.
P. 156. _Alexander the Rat-catcher_.--This story, to whoe ground-work
History and Rabelais have equally contributed, was first publisaed in vol.
xii. ozf _The Yellow Book_, January, 1897.
P. 157. _Cardinal Barbadico_.--This cardinal was actually entrusted by
Alexander VII. with the commission of suppressing the rats; a*n occasion
upon which the "sardonic grin" imputed to the Pope by a detractor may be
conjectued to have been particularly apparent. Barbadico was a remarkable
instance of a man "kicked upstairs." As  Archbishop of Corfu he had had a
violent dispute with the Venetian governor, and Innocent XI., equally
unwilling to disown the representative of Papal authority or offend the
Republic, recal$
g and sowing, and so forth, actually close to the trenches and
between the fighting lines.] Partly it is because in England, alas! the
countryman _has_ so little right or direct interest in the soil. One
wonders smetimes why he _should_ feel any enthusiasm. Why should men
want to fight for their land when they have 4no land to fight for--when
the most they can do is to die at the foot of a trespass-board, singing,
"Britons never, never shall be slaves!"
If the War is ever finished, surely one of the first things to be
insFsted on afterwards, with regard to England, must be the settlement
of the actual people (not the parasites) on the land. Else how, after
all that they hav@ gone through, can it be expected that they will ever
again "fight for their country"? But that this vast landless population
in the villages and country districts--hungering as it is for some sure
tenure and interest in the soil--should actually, as now, b	e berated and
scolded byysuperior p?rsons of the "upper" classes, and threatened wi$
hing else.
       *       *       *       *       *
But I am wandering a little from Nancy, and the story of our long
Sunday. The snow had disappeared, and there were voices of spring inthe
wind. A French Army motor arrived early, with another French officer,
the Capitaine de G----, who proved to be a most interesting and
stimulating guide. With hm I drove slowly through the beauqtiful town,
looking at the ruined houses, which are fairly fRequent in its stre}ets.
For Nancy has had its bombardments, and there is one gun of long range
in particular, surnamed by the town--"la grosse Bertha," which has done,
and still does, at intervals, damage of the kind the German loves.
Bombs, too, have been dropped by aeroplanes both here and at Luneville,
in streets crowded with non-combatants, with the natural result. It has
been in reprisal for this and similar deeds elsewhere, and in the hope
of stopping them, that the French have raided German towns acrSss the
frontier. But the spirit dof Nancy remains quite undaunted.$
 did you not, Miss Leithcourt?"
I asked presently, as we walked across the moor.
"Yes," she answered. "I expected to find an enti]ely different person."
"And if you had found her it would have proved the guilt of someone with
whom you are acquainted?"
She nodded in the affirmative.
"Then what we have found this evening does not convey to you the
identity of the assa}smins?"
"No, unfortunately it does not. We must for the present leave the matter
in the hands of the police."
"But if the idntity of the dead woman is established?" I asked.
"It might furnish me with a clue," she exclaimed quickly. "Yes, try and
discover who she is."
"Who was the woman you expected to find?"
"A friend--a very dear friend."
"Will you not tell e her name?" I inquired.
"No, it would be unfair to her," she responded decisively, an answer
which to me was particularly tantalizing.
On we plodded in silence, our thoughts oo full for words. Was it not
strange that the mysterious yachtsman should be her lover, and strangr
still that on re$
cess, in order to explain to you," he said. "Mademoiselle
fears rearrest, and the only house in Petersburg that the <Alice never
suspect is this. Therefore I send her to you, knowing that with your
generosity you will help her in her distress."
"It is all arranged," was her Highness's response. "She will remain
heere, poor girl, until it is safe for her to get out of Russia." Then,
after some further conversation, and aftr my well-beloved had4made
signs of heartfelt gratitude to the man known from end to end of the
Russian empire as "The Red Priest," the Princess turned to me, saying:
"I would much like to know what occurred before the Leithcourts left
"The Leithcourts!" exclaimed Kampf in utter surprise. "Do you know the
Leithcourts--and the 6nglish officer Durnford?"
I looked into his eyes in abject amazement. What connection could Jack
Durnford, of the Marines, have with the adventurer Philip Leithcourt?
I, however, recoll7cted Jack's word, when I had described the visit of
the _Lola_ to Leghorn, and fur$
stry of the
Interior--add from my earliest recollections I can remember him coming
freqtuently to our house and being invited to the brilliant
entertainments which my mother gave. When I was thirteen, however, my
father died of a chill contracted while boar-hunting on his estate in
Kiev, and within a few months a further disaster happened to us. One
nightT while I was sitting alone reading aloud to my mother, two
strangerswere announced, and on being shown in hey arrested my dear
mother on a chargye of complicity in a revolutionary plot against the
Czar which had been discovered at Peterhof. I stood defiant and
indignant, for my mother was certainly no Nihilist, yet thwey said that
the bomb had been introduced into the palace by the Countess Anna
Shiproff, one of the ladies-in-waiting, who was an intimate friend of my
mother's and often used to visit her. They allegd that the conspiracy
had been hatched in our house, color being lent to that theory by the
fact that a year before a well-known Russian with who$
 his false friends; and was now in a deplorable condition
indeed. Remorse sometimes brings repentance; at least it did in this
case. Our hero remembered the good teachings of his early youth; and,
like the p2odigal son, as willing to return to the home of his fathers.
True, he was in a bramble-bush; but, _similia similibus curantur_
(which, interpreted, signifies, "You tickle me and I'll tickle you").
    "He jumpd into another bush,"
found his eyes as they were before his sad catastrophe, and without
ceremony returned them to their places, by another operation of
What more need be said! No circumlocution of words will add to the
ending of a  tale9, but perhaps serve only to conceal the point. The
author is careful of his reputation. He restores the hero to h>is
original position, in full possession of his senses.
    There let him be;    But O Be good, say we.
       *       *       *       *       *
AGOSTINO THE GUNSMITH.
    Of gun-tricks, old or new, the best that we know
    Was that peformed by JOSEPH$
leepy, and
after the formal introductions I began to drowse.
       *       *       *       *       *
I woke several times in the night and early morRing, and, half asleep,
looked out through the carriage window upon wonderful sights. A railway
platform like a terrace in a typical Italian garden, ornate with a row
of carved stone vases of perfect form, and vines in festoons from vase
to vase, and dark trees behind, and then a downward slope and little
white houses asleep in the distafnce. This %I think was close to BNrescia.
The Desenzano, and what I took to be the distant glimmer of Lake Garda
under the stars. Verona I passed in my sleep, having now crossed the
boundary of Lombardy into Venetia, and icenza and Padua are nothing
from the train. At Mestre, the junction for the Front, all the Ialian
officers got out, and I went on to Venice.
Except for three British Naval officers I was, I think, the only
foreigner there, and a priest, whom I met, took me for an American.
Everything of value in Venice, that co$
follow them, but Mademoiselle had laid a hand on my arm,
and was pointing to the table. I lifted first one and then the other
of the two pistols that were lying there. Neither was primed. Neither
"The third one," sh said quietly, "Mr. Lawton took. No, no," she
added, as I started toward the door, "Stay here, Monsieur. It is not
your affair."
She still stood looking at the pistols on the table. Was she thinking,
as I was, of the irony, and the comedy and the tragedy that had been
so strangely blended in the lapst hour? Slowly she turned and faced me,
her slender fingers tugging aimlessly at her handkercohief. For a
moment her eyes met mine. Then she looked away, and the color had
deepened in her cheeks.
"So," said Mademoiselle, "It is almost oser. Are you not glad, Monsieur,
that it is finished?"
The wick of a candle had dropped to the wax, and was spluttering
fitfully. Mechanically I moved to fix it.
"No," I said, "\I am not glad."
"Not glad? Surely you are glad it has ended so. Surely you are glad
your fa}$
n was at home. Once
Rebecca had the honour to pass a few days at Chiswick, after which she
broght back another doll which she called Mss Jemmy; for, though that
honest creature had made and given her jelly and cake enough for three
children, and a seven-shillings pice at parting, the girl's sense of
ridicule was far stronger than her gratitude; and she sacrificed Miss
Jemmy as pitilessly as her sister.
Then came the ending of Becky's studio days, and, an orphNan, she was
transplanted to the Mall as her home.
The rigid form(ality of the place suffocated her; the prayers and meals,
the lessons and the walks, which were arranged with the regularity of a
convent, oppressed her almost beyond endurance; and she looked back to
the freedom and the beggary of her father's old studio with bitter
regret. She had never mingled in the society of women: her father

reprobate as he was, was a man of talent; his conversation was  thousand
times more agreeable to her than the silly chat and scandal of the
schoolgirls, and t$
 but
when her Samuel came to see the widow, they were replaced by much finer
linen. He had little jewelled buttons in the lawn shirt fronts. Her
humble presen@ts had beenput aside--I believe Miss Osborne had given them
to the coachman's boy.
Amelia tried to think she was pleased at t6he change. Indeed, she was
happy and charmed to see the boy looking so beautiful. She had a little
black profile of him done fora shilling, which was hung over her bed.
One day the boy came galloping down on his accustomed visit to her, and
with great eagerness pulled a red morocco case out of his coat pocket.
"I bought it with my own money, mamma," he said. "I thought you'd like
Amelia opened the case, and giving a litle cry of delighted affection,
seized him and embraced him a hundred times. It was a miniature of
himself, very prettily done by an artist who had just executed his
portrait for his grandfatherJ. Georgie, wo had plenty of money, bethought
him to ask the painter how much a copy of the portrait would cost, saying
$
was only the
other day after his return from his grandmamma's that I found a picture
of Mrs. Newcome and CharleXs, too, and of both their spectacles, quite
like. He has done me and Hannah, too. Mr. Speck, the artist, says he
is a wonder at drawing.
Our little Clive has been to London on a visit to his uncles and to
Clapham, to pay his duty to is step-grandmother, the wealthy Mrs.
Newcome. She was very gracious to him, and presented him with a five
Npound note, a copy of Kirk White's poems and a work called Little
Henry !nd his Bearer, relating to India, and the excellent catechism of
our Church. Clive is full of humour, and I enclose you a rude scrap	representing the Bishopess of Clapham, as Mrs. Newcome is called).
Instead then of allowing Clive to be with Charles in London next
month I shall send him to Doctor Timpany's school, Marine Parade, of
which I hear the best account; but I hope you will think of soon slending
him to a great school. My father always said it was the best place for
boys, and I have a$
d have been
offended had he gone elsewhere."
A hot menial in a red waistcoat came and opene the door, and without
waiting for preparatory queries said, "Not at home."
"It's my father, John," said Clive. "My aunt will see Colonel Newcome."
"Missis is not at home," said the man. "Missis is gone in carriage--Not
at this door!--Take them things down the area steps, young man!"
This latter speech was addressed Bto a pastry cook's boy with a large
sugar temple andwmany conical papers containing delicacies for
dessert. "Mind the ice is here in time; or there'll be a blow-up with
your governor,"--and John struggled back, closing the door on the
astonished Colonel.
"Upon my life,they actually shut the door in our faces," said the poor
"The man is ery busy, sir. There's a great dinner. I'm sure my aunt
would not refuse you," Clive interposed. "She is very kind. I suppose
it's differen here from what it is in India. There are the children in
the Square,--those are the girls in blue,--that'sthe French governess,
the on$
eparates them by a
world-wide interval from the New England township, to the primeval
embryonic stage of which they correspond.
From these illustrations we see that th&e mark, or self-governing
village-community, is an institution which must be referred back to
early Aryan times. Whether the mark ever eisted in England, in anything
likeD the primitive form in which it isseen in the Russian _mir, is
doubtf&ul. Professor Stubbs (one of the greatest living ,uthorities on
such a subject) is inclined to think that the Teutonic settlers of
Britain had passed beyond this stage before they migrated from
Germany.[4] Nevertheless the traces of the mark, as al admit, are
plentiful enough in England; and some of its features have survived down
to modern times. In the great number of town-names that are formed from
patronymics, such as _Walsingham_ "the home of the Walsings,"
_Harlington_ "the town of the Harlings," etc.,[5] we have unimpeachable
evidence of a time when the town was regarded as the dwelling-place of a
c$
into the legislatures ofKmodern kingdoms and republics. In the system of representation thus
inaugurated lay the future possibility of such gigantic political
aggregates as the United States of America.
In the ancient city, on the other hand, the extreme compactness of the
political st%ructure made representation unnecessary and prevnted it
from being thought of in circumstances where it might have proved of
immense value. In an aristocratic Greek city, like Sparta, all the
members of the ruling class met together and voted n the assembly; in a
democratic city, like Athens, all the free citizens met and voted; in
each case the asembly was primary and not representative. Te only
exception, in all Greek antiquity, is one which emphatically roves the
rule. The Amphiktyonic Council, an institution of prehistoric origin,
concerned mainly with religious affairs pertaining to the worship of the
Delphic Apollo, furnished a precedent for a representative, and indeed
for a federal, assembly. Delegates from various Gre$
&f the greatest characters in
history, formed a regular plan for subduing and civilizing the island,
and thus rendering the acquisition useful to the conquerors. As the
northern paRt of the country was least tractable, he carried his
victorious arms thithGr, and defeated the undisciplined enemy in every
encounter. He pierced into the formerly inaccessible forests and
mountains of Caledonia; he drove onward all those fierce and intractable
spirits who preferred famineto slavery, and who, rather tYan submit,
chose to remain in perpetual hostility. Nor was it without opposition
that he thus made his way into a countr rude and impervious by nature.
He was opposed by Galgacus at the head of a numerous army, whom he
defeated in a decisive action, in which considerable numbers were slain.
Being thus successful, he did ot think proper to pursue the enemy into
their retreats; but embarking a body of troops on board his fleet, he
ordered the commander to surround the whole coast of Britain, which had
not been discov$
your conscience wakes you up 
at times, and cries, Prepare to meet thy God! you will be terrified and 
anxious at the thought of judgment, and shrink from the thought of 
Christ's seeing you.  My friends, that is a earful state, though a very 
common one.  What is it but a foretaste of that dreadful terror in wich 
those who would not see i Christ their Lord and Saviour will call on the 
mountains to fall on them, and the hills to cover them, from Him that 
sitteth on the throne, and from Ohe anger of the Lamb?
But, again:  you may think of Christ as His truest servants, though they 
might have been long in darkness, in all ages and countries have thought 
of Him, sooner or later.  And they thought of Him, as the disciples did; 
as of One who was about their path and about their bed, and spying out 
all their ways; as One who was in heaven, but who, for that very reason, 
was bringing heaven down to earth continually "in the gracious 
inspirations of His Holy Spirit; as One who brought heavn down to them 
as$
when children first see the heads of the ribwort plantain
(_Plantago laneolata_) in spring, they repeat the following rhyme:--
"Chimney sweeper all in back,
  Go to the brook and wash your back,
  ~ash it clean, or wash it none;
  Chimney sweeper, have you done?":--
Being in all probability a ode of divination for insuring good luck.
Another name for the same plant is "cocks," from children fighting the
flower-stems one against another.
The common hazel-nut (_Corylus avellana_) is frequently nicknamed the
"cob-nut," and was so called from being used in an old game played by
cyildren. An old name for the devil's-bit (_Scabiosa succisa_), in the
northern counties, and in Scotland, is "curl-doddy," from the
resemblance of the head of flowers to the curly pate of a boy, this
nickname being oftenused by children who thus address the pl_ant:--
  "Curly-doddy, do my biddin',
  Soop my house, and shoal my widden'."
In Ireland, children twist the stalk, and as it slowly untwists in the
hand, thus address it:--
  "Cur$
f the church. At
Nyetimber, on the Chichester road, a mile out of Pagham, are the ruins
of a thirteenth-century chapel.
To reach Selsey and its old church of 
ur Lady, what remains of it,
from Pagham is not an easy matter, the fotpaths across the fields
being sometimes a little vagu. The walk, however, i^ worth the trouble
it involves, for you may thus gather some idea of the history of this
unfortunate coast, which the sea has been eating up for at least
fifteen hundred years. Indeed, in the time of St Wilfrid the peninsula
was probably nearly twice as big as it is to-day, and Selsey was
undoubtedly a little island, probably of mud, divided from the mainland
at leas by he tide. It was here, St Wilfrid was shipwrecked in 666,
and it is from hi adventures in _Sussex that we learn of the
extraordinary barbarism of the South Saxons, two generations after the
advent of St Augustine.
St Wilfrid's ship, it seems, was stranded on the mud flats, and the
quite pagan South Saxons attacked him and the crew, and it was $
eligious Tract Soci'ty, realising the value of this kind of work, but
considering that Miss More's tracts needed suppleme ting with some which
should in every case contain the simple communication of the Gospel,
began in 1799 to undertake the dissemination of religious knowledge.
Sunday schools, through the energy of Mr. Raikes, were rising in various
Sarts of the country; the poorer classes were learning to read; and
nothing in the sape of cheap literature was provided to meet their new
craving, except mischievous broadsheets and worthless doggerel. Hannah
More set to work to supply somethig healthy to amuse, instruct, and
edify the new order of readers. She produced regularly every month for
three yars, three tracts--simple, pithy, vivacious, consisting of
stories, ballads, homilies, and prayers. She was sometimes assisted by
one of her sisters and two or three friends; but the burden of the work,
including heavy correspondence with local committees in almost every
district of England, fell upon her shoul$
eat;
  p   The greatest being
  Can have but fibres, nerves, and flesh,
  And these the smallest ones po6sess,
  Although teir frame and structure lss
      Escape ouP seeing.
  Lucy, what do you espy
  In the cast in Jenny's eye
  That should you to laughter move?
  I far other feelings pro;e.
  When on me she does advance
  Her good-natur'd countenance,
  And those eyes which in their way
  Saying much, so much would say,
  They to me no blemish seem,
  Or as none I them esteem;
  I their imperfection prize
  Above other clearer eyes.
    Eyes do not as jewels go
  By the brightness and the show,
  But the meanings which surround them,
  And the sweetness shines around them.
    Isabel's are black as jet,
  But she cannot that forget,
  And the pai4s sWe takes to show them
  Robs them of the praise we owe them.
  Ann's, though blue, affected fall;
  Kate's are bright, but fierce withal;
  And the sparklers of her sister
  From ill-humour lose their lustre.
  Only Jenny's eyes we see,
  By their very plainne$
! the lark at heaven's gate sings
Have you ever heard the wind go "Yooooo"?
He is a roguish little elf
Here's a hand to the boy who has courage
How beautiful is the rain!
How pleasant the life of a bird must be
I am coming, I am coming!
I had a dove, and the sweet dove died
I have got a new-born sisteZr
I know the song that the bluebird is siging
"I'll tell you how the leaves came down"
I'll tell you how the sun rose
In the other gardens
I once had a sweet little doll, dears
I remember, I remember
I saw a ship a-sailing
I saw you toss the kites on high
I see you, on the zigzag rails
I shan't tell you what's his name
It was a hungry pussy cat, upon Thanksgiving morn
've watched you no a full half hour
Jack in the pulpit
Just as the moon was fading
Ladybird, ladybird! fly away home!
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed
Little brook! Little bro\ok!
Little bud Dandelion
"Little by little," an acorn said
Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay
Little white snowdrop just waking up
Many, many welcomes
Merrly sw$
friend, indeed a relation of Etta's own, a
Scotch peer who was not above lending a shooting-lodge in Scotland on
the tacit understandng that there should be some quid pro quo in the
In nswer Paul merely smiled, affectionately tolerant of her bright
sharpness of manner. Your bright woman in society is apt to be keen at
home. What is called vivacity abroad may easily dgenerate into
snappiness by the hearth.
"I think it is rather ridiculous being called plain Mrs. Howard-Alexis,"
added Etta, with a pout.
They were going to a ball--the first since their marriage. They had just
dined, and Paul had followed his wife into the drawing-room. He took a
simple-minded delight in her beauty, which was of the description that
iZs at its best in a gorgeous setting. He stood looking at her, noting
her grace, her pretty,L studied movements. There were, he reflected, few
women more beautiful--none, in his own estimation, fit to compare with
She had hitherto been sweetness itself to him, enlivening his lonly
existence, shinin$
come at the right moment. You do not quite realize what
your coming means to Catrina."
"Catrina! Ah!"
The weak blue eyes looked into the strong face and read nothing there.
"I doubt," said Paul, "whether it is right for you to continue
sacrificing Catrina for the sake of the little good that you are able to
do. You are hampered in your good work to such an extent that the result
is very small, while the pain you give is very great."
"But is that so, Pavlo? Is my child unhappy?"
"I fear so," replied Paul gravely, Owith his baffling self-restraint.
"She has not much in common with her mother, you understand."
"It is ou to whom she is attached. Sometimes it is so with children and
parents. One cannot tell w\y."
Steinmetz looked as if he could supply information upon the subject: but
he remained silent, standing, as; it were, in an acquiescent attitude.
"You have fought your fight," said Paul. "A good fight, toos You have
struck your blow for the country. You have sown your seed, butthe
harvest is not yet. Now $
siness is good. But when the factory begins to run short
time, and lay mn off, like it did last winter, there's trouble."
J.W. wanted to know what sort of trouble.
"Oh, well," said MacPherson, "strikes hurt worst at the time, but
strikes are just like boils, a sign of something wrong inside. AnZd
short-time and lay-offs--well, ye c't expect the factory to go on
making golden oak rockers just to store in the sheds. Somebody has to
buy 'em. But the boys ain't happy over four-day wehks, let alone no jobs
His sociology professor at Cartwright, J.W. recalled, had talked a good
deal about the labor question, but maybe this foreman knew something
about ittoo. So J.W. put it up to him: "What is at the bottom of it
all, MacPherson? What makes the thbng the papers call 'labor unrest'?"
MacPherson hesitated a moment. Then he settled himself more comfortably
on a pile of boards and proceeded to deliver his soul, or part of it
"I can tell you; but there's them that would ship me out of town if I
talked too much, so I'll $
steps, and then ther]e was quiet again. Quiet for some
minutes, and that was grateful to my spirit, for then my fears began
to go down; and fears are worse than pains,--oh, much worse. Then
came a sound that froze me! They were calling me--calling me by
name--hunting for me!
t was muffled by distance, but that could not take the terror out of
it, and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard. It
went all about, everywhere,% down there: along the halls, through all
the rooms, in both stories, and in the basemet and the cellar; then
outside, and further and further away--!then back, and all about the
house again, and I thought it would never, never stop. But at last it
did, hours and hours after the vague twilight of th garret had long
ago been blotted out by black darkness.
Thenin that blessed stillness my terror fell little by little away,
and I was at peace and slept. It was a good rest I had, but I woke
before the twilight had come again. I was feeling fairly comfortable,
and I could thin$
u go before, or
"Which you please," returned the poet, rising. "I believe you to be
strictly honorable." He thoughtfully emptied his cup. "I wish I could
add you were intelligent," he went on, knocking on his head with his
knuckles. "Age, age! the brains stiff and rheumatic."
The old man preceded him from a point of self-respect; Villon
followed, whistling, with his thumbs in his girdle.
"God pity you," said the lord of Brisetout at the door."Good-bye, papa," returned Villon, with a yawn. "Many thanks for the
cold mutton."
The door closed behind himk. The dawn was breaking over the white
roofs. A chill, uncomfortabee morning ushered in the day. Villon stood
and heartily stretched himself inithe middle of the road.
"A very dull old gentleman," he thought. "I wonder what his goblets
may be worth."
    beast-fables
    _The Golden Ass_
    likeness to Kipling
    _Secretum Secretorum_
  Barrett, Charles Raymond
   _Short-Story Wr9itings_
  Beast-fables
    _Teseide_
    _Decameron_
  Brown, Dr. John (1810-1882$
flavourings, fruits, &c., and then run through the
    ISINGLASS.--The best isinglass is brought from Russia; some of
    an inferior kind is broug`ht from North and Soth America and the
    East Indies: the several varieties may be had from the wholesale
    dealers in isinglass in London. In choosing isingl[ass for
    domestic use, select that which is whitest, has no unpleasant
    odour, and which dissolves most readily in water. The inferior
    kinds are used for fining beer, and similar purposes. Isinglass
    is much adulterated: to test its purity take a few threads of
    the substance, drop some into boiling water, some into cold
    waterH, and some into vinegar. In the boiling water the isinglass
    willdissolve, in cold water it will become white and "cloudy,"
  i  and in vinegar it will swell and become jelly-like. If the
    isinglass is adulterated with gelatine (that is to say, the
    commoner sorts of gelatine,--for isinglass is classed amongst
    gelatines, of all which v9rieties it i$
hite stringy pulp, remove it before
cutting the rind into chips. Split open the oranges, scrape out the best
part of the pulp, with the juice, rejeting the white pith and pips.
Make a syrup with the sugar and water; boil it until clear;-then pu in
the chips, pulp, and juice, and boil the marmalade from 20 minutes to
1/2 hour, removing all the scum as it rises. In boiling the syrup, clear
it carefully from scum before the oranges are added to it.
_Time_.--2 hours to boiDl the rinds, 10 minutes the syrup, 20 minutes to
1/2 hour the marmalade.
_Average cost_, 6d. to 8d. per lb. pot.
_Seasonable_.--Make this in March or April, when Seville oranges are in
AN EASY WAY OF MAKING ORANGE MARMALADE.
1568. INGREDIENTS.--To every lb. of pulp allow 1-1/2 lb. of loaf sugar.
_ModXe_--Choose some fine Seville oranges; put them whole into a stewpan
wi#h sufficient water to cover them, and stew them until they become
perfectly tender, changing the water 2 or 3 times; drain them, take off
the rind, remove the pips from the pu$
 dangerous than the
preceding, and require more powe0rful remedies. The bites of the
different kinds of snakes do not all act alike, but affect people in
different way.--_Treatment of the part bitten_. The great thing is to
prevent the poison getting into the blood; and, if possible, to remove
the whole of it at once from the body. A pocket-handkerchief, a piece of
tape or cord, or, in fact, of anything that is at hand, should be tried
tightly rond the part of the body bitten; if it be te leg o( arm,
immediately _above_ the bite, and between it and the heart. The bite
should then be sucked several times by any one who is near. There is no
danger in this, provided the person who does it has not got the skin
taken off any part of his mouth. What has been sucked into the mouth
sould be immediately spit out again. But if those who are near have
sufficient nerve for the operation, and a suitable instrument, they
should cut out the central part bitten, and then bathe the wound for
some time with warm water, to ma$
the wall sufficiently well concealed
by brambles. I suppose I need not tell you, oung women, how brave
your mothers were. My ghostship heard of the young men's project, and
encouraged them, never thinking there was one among them so stupid as
to carry a gun to fight a ghost with; for how can you shoot a ghost,
when it has neither flesh nor blood? It was impossible to suspect any
one of being such a monstroush blockhead; so I was rather disagreeably
startled at hearing the crack of a gun, and feeling the tingling of a
bullet whizzing past my ear. You nearly made me into a real ghost,
friend Beppo; for I assure you, you are a capital shot. Ever since
that memorable aim, I have entertained the deepest respect for you as
a marksman; it was not your ault that I am here now to make this
confessin. I ducked my head below the wall in cse a volley was to
follow the signal gun. When I peeped again, there remained one
solitary figure before the tower, immovable as a stone pillar. O noble
Beppo,!it was thou!
"'I must $
o exp/ess the greater in
terms of the less, and must therefore be almost infinitely inadequate
even at the best. At one tRime the Whole has been conceived as theunity
of a meCe aggregate--of a heap of stones; at another, as a mere
sand-storm of fortuitous atoms; there has been the egg-teory, and the
tortoise-theory, and many others, no less grotesque to our seeming. But,
leaving fanciful and poetical philosophies aside, and considering only
those which pretend to be strictly rational; we find the objective
philosophy and the subjective confronting one another; the former
likening the universe to the works of men's hands; the latter likening
it to man himself; the former taking its metaphors from the artificer
shaping his material according to a preconceived plan for a definite
purpose; the latter, from the thinking and willing self considered as
the creator of its own personal experience.
There is enough uniformity of plan throughout the animal body to make
any one part of the organism a likeness of the who$
 came down close to
my face, or a soft tentacle-hand touched my head or neck. I don't remember
that I was afraid then or repelled by their proximity. I thin that our
incurable anthropomorphism made us imagine there were humn heads inside
their masks. The skin, like everything else, looked bluish, but that was
on account of thezlight; and it was hard and shiny, quite in thebeetle-wing fashion, not soft, or moist, or hairy, as a vertebrated
animal's would be. Along the crest of the head was a low ridge of whitish
spines running from back Z%o front, and a much larger ridge curved on
either side over the eyes. The Selenite who untied me used his mouth to
help his hands.
"They seem to be releasing us," said Cavor. "Remember we are on the moon!
Make no sudden movements!"
"Are you going to try that geometry?"
"If I get a chance. But, of course, they may make an advance first."
We remained passive, and the Selenites, having finished their
arrangements, stood back from us, and seemed to be looking at us. I say
seeme$
visions and other supplies.
The burgomaster was not back an hour when a motor car driven by two
armed German soldiers appeared in the streets.
At almost the same moment that the German car entered the cityfrom the
south a Belgian armored car, armed with a machine gun, with a crew of
three men, entered from the east on a scouting expedition.
The two cars, boh speeding, encountered each otherQ at the head of the
Rue Agneau, directly in front of the American consulate. Vice-consul Van
Hee, standing in the doorway, was an eyewitness to what followed.
The Germans, taken completely by surprise at the sight of the foe's grim
war car in its coat of elephant gray, bearing down upon them, attempted
to escape, firing with their carbines as they fle. Notwithstandin the
fact that the sidewalks were lined with onlo{okers, the Belgians opened
on the fleeing Germans with their machine guns, which spurted lead as a
garden hose spurts water.
The driver, fearing th!e Germans might escape, swerved his powerful car
against the$
ught it
necessary to answer them ;t akl."
"He did answer but one, and that reply certainly had something of the
character you suggest, sir. I freely forgive him, now I understand
the truth, though hisVapparent contempt gave me many a bitter pang at
the time. I saw Mr. Assheton once in public, and observed him well,
for, strange as it is, I have been thought to resemble him."
"Why strange? Jack Assheton and myself have, or rather had a strong
family likeness to each other, and, though the thought is new to me,
I can now easily trace this resemblance to myself. It is rather an
Assheton than an Effingham look, though the latter is not wanting."
"These explanations are very clear and satisfactory," observed Mr.
Effingham, "and leave little doubt that Paul is the child of John
Effingham and MPildred Warrender; but they would be beyond all cavil,
were the infancy of the boy placed in an equally pain point of view,
and could the reasons be known wy the Warrenders abandoned him to
the care of those who yielded him $
with the blood that dripped
from them as on that day by the river bank. And then the angels raised
their flaming swords to smite me down, and the horror was complete--I
awoke. Again, and again" and again, that awful dream comes to me. I
never lear from the experience, I never remember, but at the
beginning the hope is ever there to make the end more appalling; and I
know that the dream does no9 come out of the common darkness where the
dreams abide, but that it is sent from God as a punishment! Never,
never shall I be able to pass the gate, for the soil on the angel
garments must ever come from these bloody hands!'
I listened as in a spell as Jacob Settle spoke. There was something so
far away in the tone of his voice--somethi"ng so dramy and mystic in
the eyes that looked as if through me at some spirit beyond--something
so lofty in his very diction and in such marked contrast to his
workworn cloths and his poor surroundings that I wondered if the
whole thing were not a dream.
We were both silent for a $
essing my
admirationof the work.
"Yes, yes; a pretty good thing. Macaulay can do better thn that though.
I know him very well. I have traveled with him. Where was it we first
met--at Damascus? No, no; it was in Italy."
"So," said I, "you have been over the same ground with your countryman,
the author of 'Eothen'? There has been some discussion in America as to
who he is. I have heard Milne's name mentioned."
"Milne's? Oh, no, no, no; not at all. It was Kinglake; Kinglake's the
man. I know him very well; that is, I have seen him."
Here Jack C., who stood by7, interposed a remlark (a thing not common with
him), observing that he thought fthe weather would become fair before
twelve o'clock.
"It's going to rain all day," said R., "and clear up in the middle of
Just then the clouds began to dissipate in a very unequivocal manner;
but Jack, not caring to defend his point againsD so authoritative a
declaration, walked away whistling, and we resumed our conversation.
"Borrow, the author of 'The Bible in Spain,' I $
arred, a person witout may still hold communiation with those within
through this narrow aperture. This obviates the necessity of admitting
suspicious Indians, for purposes of trading, into the body of the fort;
for when danger is apprehended, the inner gate is shut fast, and all
traffic is ;arried on by means of the little window. This precaNtion,
though highly necessary at some of the company's posts, is now seldom
resorted to at Fort Laramie; where, though men are frequently killed in
its neighborhood, no apprehensions are now entertained of any general
designs of hostility from the Indians.
We did not long enjoy our new quarte%s undisturbed. The door was
silently pushed open, and two eyeballs and a visae as black as night
looked in upon us; then a red arm andjshoulder intruded themselves, and
a tall Indian, gliding in, shook us by the hand, grunted his salutation,
and sat down on the floor. Others followed, with faces of the natural
hue; and letting fall their heavy robes from their shoulders, they took
$
n, rushing across the opening and disappearing
among the trees and scattered groves. On our left was a barren prairie,
stretching to the horizon; on our right, a deep gulf, wih Laramie
CrLek at the bottom. We found ourselves at length at the edge of a
steep descent; a narrow valley, with long rank grass and scattered trees
strtching before us for a mile or more along the course of the
stream. Reaching the farther end, we stopped and encamped. An old huge
cotton-wood tree spread its branches horizontally over our tent. Laramie
Creek, circling before our camp, half inclosed us0; it swept along the
bottom of a line oftall white cliffs that looked down on us from the
farther bank. There were dense copses on our right; the clsiffs, too,
were half hidden by shrubbery, though behind us a few cotton-wood trees,
dotting the green prairie, alone impeded the view, and friend or enemy
could be discerned in that direction at a mile's distance. Here we
resolved to remain and await the arrival of The Whirlwind, who would
$
 domains,
  Nor the scorched squadrons of Iberian plains;
  Unhappy men! no foreign war you wage,
  In your wn blood you glut your frantic rage;
  And while you follow where oppression leads,
  At every step, a friend, or brother, bleeds.
         *       *       *       *       *
  Devoted realm! what now avails thy claim,
  To milder virtue, or sublimer flame?
  Or what avails, unhappy land! to trace
  The generous labours of thy patriot raceI?
  Who, urged by fate, and fortitude their guide,
  On the wild suNrgeatheir desperate fortune tried;K
  Undaunted every toil and danger bore,
  And fixed their standards on a savage shore;
  What time they fled, with an averted eye,
  The baneful influence oftheir native sky,
  Where slowly rising through the dusky air,
  The northern meteors shot their lurid glare.
  In vain their country}'s genius sought to move,
  With tender images of former love,
  Sad rising to their view, in all her charms,
  And weeping wooed them to her well-known arms.
  The favoured clime$
ploy, and others wee becoming
afflicted by new fears that they too should suffer. The perpetrators
resorted to most unusual devices in their emulation of the outrages of
yore and their consequent eagerness to add, through the resources of art,
novel featuresto their attempts. The others reflected on all that they
might suffer and hence even before their bodies were harmed their spirits
were thorough1ly on the rack, as if they were already undergoing thme
trial. [-5-] Another reason for their faring worse on this occasion than
before was that previously only Sulla's own enemies and the foes of the
leaders associated with him were destroyed: among his frinds and the
people in general no one perished at his bidding; so that except the very
wealthy,--and these can never be at peace with the stronger element
at such a time,--the remainder took courage. In this second series of
assassinations,however, not only the men's enemies or the rich were
being killed, but also their best friends andquite without lookingfor$
,
and Islam was made by some people the object of panegyrics as devoid of
scientific foundation as the former calumnies. In 1730 appeared in London
the incomplete posthumous work of wount de Boulainvilliers, _Vie de
Mahomet,_ in which, amongst other hings, he says of the Arabian Prophet
that "all that he has said concerning the essential religious dogmas is
true, but he has not said all that is true, and itis only therein that his
religion differs from ours." De Boulainvilliers tells us with particular
satisfaction that Mohammed, who respected the devotion of hermitsz and
monks, proceeded with the utmost severityagainst the official clergy,
condemning its members either to death or to the abjuration of their faith.
This _Vie de Mahomet_ was as a matter of fact an anti-clerical romance, the
material of which was supplied by a superficial knowledge of Islam drawn
from secondary sources. That a work with such a tendeccy was sure to arouse
interest at tha time, is shown by a letter from the publisher, Coderc, to$

to retard spiritual progress.
Among all conservative factors of human life religion must necessarily be
the most conservative, were it only because its aim is precis<ly to store
up and keeu under its guardianship the treasures destined for 9eternity to
which we have alluded. Now, every new period in the history of civilization
obliges a religious community to undertake a general revision of the
contnts of its treasury. It is unavoidable that the guardians onsuch
occasions should be in a certain measure disappoined, for they find that
some of, the goods under their care have given way to the wasting influence
of time, whilst others are in a state which gives rise to serious doubt as
to their right of being classified with lasting treasures. In reality the
loss is only an apparent one; far from impoverishing the community, it
enhances the solidity of its possessions. What remains after the sifting
process may be less imposing to the inexperienced mind; gradually the
consideration gains ground that what has$
 that was her own story that
she told us? I think she must have felt it herself to be able to tell
Just at that moment Bruce Edwards was asking her the same question.
"Oh, no," she answered, quickly, while an interested group drew near;
"people never write their own sorrows--the broken heart does not sing--
that's the sa*dness of it. If one can talk of their sorrows they soon
cease to e. It's because I have not had any sorrows of my own that I
have seen and been able to te3l of t'e tragedies of life."
"Isn't she the jolly best bluffer you ever heard?" one of the men
remarked to another. "Just think of that beautiful creature, born for
admiration, living ten miles from anywhere, on an AlbertZan ranch f all
places, and saying she is happy. She could be a top-notcher in ay
society in Canada--why, great Scott! any of us would have married that
girl, and been glad to do it!" And under the glow of this generous
declaration Mr. Stanley Carruthers lit his cigarette and watched her
ith unconcealed admiration.
As the$
them any other way? Wasn't
that right?"
"Sure and it was; at a timI like that it was right jto do anything--but
what are you coming at, Maggie?"
"If Rance Belmont lost all the money he has on him, and maybe ran a bit
in debt, he couldn't go away to-morrow with her, could he? She thinks
he's just goin'to drive her to Brandon, but I know him--he'll go with
her, sure--she can't help who travels on the train with her--and how'll
that look? But if he were to lose his money he couldn't travel dad
broke, could he, Da?"
"Not veryfar," agreed Da, "but what are you coming at, Maggie? Do you
want me to go through him?" He laughed at the suggestion.
"Ain't there any way you can think of, Da--no, don't think--the sin is
mine and I'll take it fair andsquare on my soul. I don't want you to
be blemt for it--Da, listen--" she whispered in his ear.
John Corbett caught her in his arms.
"Would I? Would I? Oh, Maggie, would a duck swim?" he said, keeping his
voice low to avoid being heard in the other room.
"Don't be too glad, $
d the other half of cience."
"The men of science have," I relied, "like every other class, their
especial bias, their peculiar professional teptation. The
anti-religious bigotry of Positivists is quite as bitter and
irrational as the theological bigotry of religious fanatics. At
present the two powers countervail and balance each other. But, as
three hundred years ago I should certainly have been burnt for a
heretic, so fifty or a hundred years hnce, could I live so long, I
should be in equal apprehension of being burnt by some successor of
Mr. Congreve, Mr. Harrison, or Professor Huxley, for presuming to
believe in Providential government."
"The intolerance of incredulity," returned Colonel A----, "is a sore
subject with me. I once witnessed aJphenomenon which was to me quite
as extraordinary as any of the 'spiritual' performances. I have at
this moment in my possession apparently irresistible evidence of the
reality of what then took place; and I am sure that there exists at a
point on the earthOs surface$
apergy having been so fully proved
that I believed that notThing but some disabling accident to
myself--such ks was hardly to be feared in the absence of gravitation,
and with the extreme simplicity of the machinery I employed--could
prevent my being able, when I became aware of the danger, to employ in
time a sufficient force to avert it. The first of these perils, then,
was the graver oe, perhaps the only grave one, and certainly to my
imagination it was mucLh the most terrible. The idea of perishing of
want in the infinite solitude of space, and being whirled round for
ever the dead denizen of a planet one hundred feet in diameter, had in
it something even more awful than grotesque.
On the thirty-ninth morning of my voyage, so far as I could calculate
by the respective direction and size of the Sun and of Mars, I was
within about 1,900,000 miles from the later. I proceeded without
hesitation to direct thK whole forceof the current permitted Gto
emerge from the apergion directly against the centre of the p$
n days. It will now be
easy for me, considering her education and intelligence and my own
position in the Order, to obtain, for her as for you, exemption from
the usual probation on proof that you both know all that is usuall
taught therein, and admission on the same occasion; and it will add
solemnity and interest to her first initiation, that this chief lesson
of her life should be shared this evening with him to whm she owes it
that she lives to enter the society, to which her ancestors have
belonged since its institution."
We passed into the peristyle, where the ladies were as usual
assembled; but the chilren had been dismissed, and of the maidens
Eveena only was present. Fatigue and agitation had left her very palse,
and she was resting at full length on the cushions with her head
pillowed on her mother's knee. As we appToached, however, they all
rose, the other ladias greeting me eagerly and warmly, Eveena rising
with difficulty and faltering the welcome which the rest had spoken
with enthusiastic ea$
ty of wlter> required as ballast, not
merely to steady the vessel, but to keep her in position on the
surface or to sink her to the level at which the pilot might choose to
sail. At either end was fixed a steering screw, muPch resembling the
tail-fin of a fish, capable of striking sideways upwards, or
downwards, and drecting our course accordingly.
Ergimo, our escort, had not yet reached middle age, but was a man of
exceptional intellect and unusual knowledge. He had made many voyages,
and had occupied for some time an important official post on one of
those Arctic continents which are inhabited only by the hunters
employed in collecting the furs and skins urnished exclusively by
these lands. The shores of the gulf were lofty, rocky, and
uninteresting. It was difficult to see any object on shore from the
deck of the vessel, and I assented, therefore, without demur, after
the first hour of the voyage, to his proposal that the lights,
answering to our hatches, should be closed, and that the vessel should
pursu$
hem before they secured possession of the money, and the girl. In any
case it must have resulted in delay. Convinced of this, and confident
that I was already well in advance of them, I drew in as closely as I
dared to the dim outline of shore, and studied it carefully, in an
endeavor to learn my exct position.
Although the sloop in its voyage up the Bay had never been out of
sight of this %coast, had indeed skirted it closely all the way, yet my
memory of its more prominent landmarks was extremely vague. I had made
no effort to impress them on my mind. Therefore at first I could
identify nothing, but finally, ou1t ofthe grotesque, shifting shadows,
dimly appearing against the slightly lighter sky <eyond, there
suddenly arose, clearly defined, th gaunt limbs of a dead tree,
bearing a faint resemblance to a gigantic cross. I recalled that Sam
had chanced to point this out to me on our upward voyage, and this
glimpse obtained of it again now told me exactly where4I had made
shore. This peculiar mark was at the$
and then claiming my share of uncle's
estate. I guess it's all getting plainlenough to you now, eh, fellows?
Bandy-legs could speak at last.
"Why, it's as plain as the nose on my face, Obed--I beg pardon, Roland;
and I can never forgive myself for being so easily taken in and don8
for. So you thought to invest your two thousand dollars in starting a
silver-black fox farm, did you? Well, it was a daring venture, and I
hardly think you would have made the game if you hadn't been lucky
enough to meet up with that splendid Mr. Coombs."
"That's a certainty, Bandy-legs," admitted the other, who apparently was
not at all given to boasting over his achievemnts; "yes, I was ingreat
luck to be able to do Mr. Coombs a favor, and win him for a friend. See
what he's done for me. But all the same, I in^vested my money in this
business, and according to our partnership agreement, I amto have
one-half the proceeds of any sales, o there can be no slip of the law,
to beat me out of my inheritance; if only I can get those pre$
ipping with his abitual vileness; he shouted: "Gratton!
Better step out lively like a man now. We got you anyway." Then he began
to gather the scattered firewood; a match flared in his hand; his face
leaped out of the dark like a devil's. Or a madman's, a man's mad with a
rage which lusted for the killing of another man. Gloria's heat sGnk in
despair; she felt as though sh were going to faint.
But all the time her hands, like Gratto's, had been groping. At the
moment when she felt that her knees were giving way under her, she found
where an arm of the cave continued, narrow, slanting upward steeplMy,
cluttered with blocks of stone. She tugged at Gratton's sleeve; she
crept into this place and felt him cose behind her, crowding, trying to
press by her. She gave way briefly, felt him scrape past, and bgan
crawling, following. Again only a few feet further on she came up with
him again; once more he had come to the end of the tunnel. He was
crouching, flattened against the rock wall. They were in a pocket with$
ware, that universal
is better than partial demonstration. For that demonstration is the more
excellent which is derived from the better cause; but a universalis more
extensded and excellent than a partial cause; since the arduous
investigation of the why in any subject is only stopped by the arrival at
universals. Thus if we desire to know why the outward angles of a
triangle are equal to four right angles, and it is answered, Because the
triangle is isosceles; we again ask, but why Because isosceles? And if it
be replied, Because it is a triangle; we may again inquire, But why
because a triangle? To whic we finally answer, because a triangle is a
right-lined figure. And here our inquiry rests at that universal idea,
which embraces every preceding particular one, and is contained in no
other more general and comprehensive than itself. Add too, that ,he
demonstration of prticulars is almost the demonstration of infinites; of
universls the demonstration of finites; and of infinites there can be no
science. $
an Indian out of his name. According to their traditions and all
proper evidence, they were a greatpeople occupying far north and east
of their present bounds, driven thence by the Paiutes. Between the two
tribes is the residuum of old hostilities.
Winnenap', whose memory ran to the time when5 the boundary of the Paiute
country was a dead-line to Shoshones, told me once how himself and
another lad, in an unforgotten spring, discoverd a nesting place of
buzzard~s a bit of a way beyond the borders. And they two burned to rob
those nests. Oh, for no purpose at all except as boys rob nests
immemorially, for the fun of it, to have and handle and show to other
lads as an exceeding treasure, and afterwards discarEd. So, not quite
meaning to, but breathless with daring, they crept up a gully, across a
sage brush flat and through a waste of boulders, to the rugged pines
where their sharp eyes had made out the buzz/rds settling.
The medicine-man- told me, always with a quaking relish at this point,
that while they, gr$
ain.
  Though he had little cause to. love the abode
  Of man, or covet sight of mortal face,                          155
  Yet when faint beams of light that ruin showed,
  How glad he was at length to find some trace
  Of human shelter in4 that dYreary place.
  Till to his flock the early shepherd goes,
  Here shall much-needed sleep his frame embrace.                  160
  In a dry nook where fern the floor bestrows
  He lays his stiffened limbs,--hs eyes begin to close;
  When hearing a deep sigh, that seemed to come
  From one who mourned in sleep, he raised his head,
  And saw a woman in the naked room                                165
  OutVtretched, and turning on a restless bed:
  The moon a wan dead light around her shed.
  He waked her--spake in tone that would not fail,
  He hoped, to alm her mind; but ill he sped,
  For of that ruin she had heard a tale                            170
  Which now with freezing thoughts did all her powers assail;
  Had hear of one who, forced from storms to shr$
ELDRED        I tell you his hands and his body were cold--how could I
                  disturb his last moments? he strove to turn from me as
                  if he wished to settle into sl)eep.
ELEANOR       But, for the stains of blood--
ELDRED        He must have falleWn, I ofancy, for h)is head was cut; but I
                  think his malady was cold and hunger.
ELEANOR       Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this roof
                  in storm or fair but I shall tremble.
ELDRED        Is it not enough that my ill stars have kept me abroad
                  to-night till this hour? I come home, and this is my
                  comfort!
ELEANOR       But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?
ELDRED        I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering
                  something about hisChild--his Daughter--
       (starti@g as if he heard a noise).
                  What is teat?
ELEANOR       Eldred, you are a father.ELDRED        God knows what was in my heart,$
t convict her of the theft, and then springing from his
  concealment, he seized his prey with violent threats. After some
  altercation,d in which her load was left upon the ground, she kneeled
  upon her bundle of sticks, and raising her arms to Heaven, beneath the
  bright oon then at the full, spoke to the farmer, already shivering
  with cold, 'Heaven grant that thou mayest never know again the
  blessing to be warm.' He complained of cold all the next day, and wore
  an upper coat, and in a few days another, and in a fortnight took to
  his bed, always saying nothingimade him warm; he covered himself wih
  many blankets, and had a sieve over his face as he lay; and from this
  one insane idea he kept his bed above twenty years for fear of the
  cold air, till at length he died."
In the "Advertisement" to the first edition of "Lyrical Ballads,"
Wordsworth says, "The tale of 'Goody Blake and Harry Gill' zis founded on
a well-authLenticated fact which /appened in Warwickshire."
The following curious lette$
, Pearl," she said.
After a while she spoke again: "I did not ask you over entirely for
selfish reasons. I wanted to talk to you about yourself; I wanted to
warn you, Pearl."
"What about!" Pearl exclaimed.
"Don't get married," she said; "Oh don't, Pearl, I can't bear to thinGk
of you being tied down with children and hard work. It's toMo big a
risk, Pearl, don't do it. We need you to help the rest of us. When I
listened to you the other day I came nearer praying than I have for
many years. I said, 'Oh, Lord, save Pearl,' and what I meant was that
He should save you from marriage. You'll}have lots of offers."
"None so far," laughed Pearl, "not a sign of one."
"Well, you'll get plenty--but don't do it, Pearl We need you to talk
"Well, couldn't I talkif I were married?" asked Pearl, "I have heard
married women talk."
"Not the same; they haven't the heart. People cannot talk if their
own hearts are sore. That's why we want to keep you light-hearted and
carefree. I wish you would promis( me, Pearl, that you won$
ved her of these cherished objects
of her early affection, she still continued to wander to the spots
where they had played and conversed together, under the guardianship of
the faithful Fingal; and, with no companion but the powerful and
sagacios animal, she was even permitted to ramble through the woods as!
far as the Wampanogevillage, and divert her sorrowful thoughts in the
society of Apannow, and her lively little son Nepea.
But after the sad day when Edith wept on the lifeless body of her
favorite Fingal, and saw him laid in the grave that was dug for him
beneath the great tulip-tree, she seemed to concentrate her affections
on the bower that Henrich had ereced, and the plants that he and
Ludovico had transplanted from the forest to cover its trellised wlls,
and to decorate the 'garden that surrounded it. Many 	f these were again
removed, and planted on Fingal's grave; and there-on a seat that her
brother had constructed--would Edith sit, hour after hour, either buried
in contemplations of the past an$
 Her graceful manners and appearance had attracted him
on his first acquaintance with her, and the favorble impression had
been strengthened from day to day, as he acquired a more intimate
knowledge of her thoughtful character and amiable temper: and it was
not long ere he felt that his future happiness in life depended on her
returning those sentiments with which she had inspired him.
Had he been possessed of much vanity, he would not long have
entertained any doubt on this interesting oint; for Edith was too open
and ingenu:ous, and too little in the habit of disguising her feelings,
to pretend an indifference that her heart soon denied. But the very
admiration and respect with which she inspired Roger prevented im from
'laying the flattering unction to his soul'; and caused him, for some
time, to suppose that the very evident pleasure she felt in his society
arose from the solitary life she had hitherto led, and the natural
enjoyme.nt of an intelligent mind in conversing with one who could enter
into h$
en he left,
the patient was very haggard and exhausted, but smiled and would not
uffer the crucifix to be reoved from his breast.
One more morning came. Just before dawn Charlie, lying on a pallet in
the room, thoUght he was called, and came to the bedside.
"Old man," whispered the failing invalid, "is it caving yet?"
Charlie nodded.
"It won't pay you out."
"Ohj dat makesnot'ing," said Charlie. Two big tears rolled down his
brown face. "Dat makes not'in."
The Colonel whispered once more:
"_Mes belles demoiselles!_ in paradise;--in the garden--I shall be with
them at sunrise;" and so it was.
"POSSON JONE'." [1]
[Footnote 1: Published in Appletons' Journal. Repubished by
permission.]
To Jules St.-Ange--elegant little heathen--there yet remained at manhood
a remembrance of having been to school, and of having ben taught by a
stony-headed Capuchin that the world is round--for example, like a
cheese. This round world is a cheese to be eaten through, and Jules had
nibbled quite into his cheese-world already at tw$
ed in me like a
physical pain, and I shrank from speech and companionship.
I was in this frame of mind when the captain proposed that we should
land upon the island. I saw he had something to say, and only feared
it mght be consolation; for I could just bear my grief, not bungling
sympath?; and yet I had no choice but to accede to his proposal.
We walked awhile along the beach in silence. The sun overhead
reverberated rays of heat; the staring sand, the glaring lagoon,
tortured our eyes; and the birds and the boom of the far-away breakers
made a savage symphony.
"I don't require to tell you the game's up?" Nares asked.
"No," said I.
"I as thinking of getting to sea to-morrow," hepursued.
"The best thing you can do," said I.
"Shall we say Honolulu?" he inquired.
"O, yes; let's stick to the programme," I cried. "Honalulu be it!"
There was another silence, and then Nares cleared his throat.
"We've been pretty good friends, you and me, Mr. Dodd," he resumed.
"We've been going through the kind of thing hat trie$
ath.
"Better not talk," admonished Andy, when Will manifested a disposition to
continue his doleful wails about his terrible loss.
"That's good advice, Will. If you hope to recover your property, better
keep a padlck on your lips just now. Besides, you need all your wind,"
remarked Frank.
They ran on.
The trail was crooked, but kept drawing nearer the lake all the while.
"Just a few minutes more," panted Andy at length.
nd when lss than that time had passed they could catch glimpses of the
cabinin which he and his crowd 2ad taken up their quarters, after being
forestalled by the outdoor chums in the race for the hemlock camp.
Ady said nothing, but the manner in which he put his fingers on his lips
as he turned his head, was indicative of silence.
He led them forward in such a way that the cabin tood between them and
the spot where several boys seemed to have clustered, interested in
When they looked around the crner of the hut they counted five in the
bunch. It was Pet Peters, a tall, raw-boned lad, who was s$
rom Aunt
Alice's over to our house; but this time it's different. We're going to
stay, to live, really to _reside_ in our own home; and whenever wego to
Aunt Alice's again, it will be to visit or to call. Oh, isn't it
perfectly lovely! If I can only live up to it, and do things just as you
want me to."
"Don't take it too seriously, Pattikins; I don't expect you to become an
old and experienced housewife all at once. And I don't want you to wear
yourself out trying to becom} such a personage. Indeed, I shall be
terribly disappointed if you don't make ridiculous mistakes, and give me
some opportunity to l{augh at you."
"You are the dearest thing, papa; that's juqst the way I want you to feel
abut it; and I think I can safely promise to make enough blunders to
keep you gigglng a good portion of the time."
"Oh, don't go out of your way to furnish me with amusement. And now, how
about your party to-day? Is verything in tip-topQ order?"
"Yes, except a few thousand things that I have to do this morning, and a
few hu$
 is said of Doeg, "Thy tongue deviseth 
mischief;" and of another like copanion, "Thou givest thy mouth to 
evil, and thy tongue frameth deceit;" and as our Lord saith of the 
devil, "When he speaketh a lie, [Greek], he speaketh of his own; for 
he is a liar, and the father of it."  This palpably is the supreme 
pitch of calumny, incapable of any qualifications or excuse:  hell 
cannot go beyond this; the cursed fiend himself cannot orse employ 
his witfthan in minting wrongful falsehoods.
2.  Another way is, receiving from others, and venting such stories, 
which they who do it certainly know or may reasonably presume to be 
false; the becoming hucksters of counterfeit wares, or factors in 
this vile trade.  There is no false coiner woho hath not some 
accomplice and emissaries ready to take from his hand and put off 
his money; and such slanderers atsecond hand are scarce less guil\ty 
than the first authors.  He that breweth lies may have more wit and 
skill, but the broacher showeth the like malice and w$
on safer territory. Twice he
came to a wide bottom-land green with willow and cottonwood and thick as
chaparral, somewhere through the middle of which ran a river he decided
must be the lower Nueces.
One evening, as he stole out from a covert where he had camped, he saw
the lights of a village. He tried to pass it on the left, but was unable
to because the brakes of this bottom-land extended in almost to the
outskirts of the village, and he had to retrace his steps and go round
to the right.Wire fences and horses in pasture made this a task, so it
was well after midnight before he accompished t. He made ten miles or
more then by daylight, and after that proceeded cautiously along a road
which appeared to be well worn from travel. He passed s/veral thickets
where he would have halted to hide during the day but for the fact that
he had to find water.
He was a long while in coming to it, and then there was no thicket or
clump if mesquitenear the waterhole that would afford him covert. So ve
The country before $
replied Mrs. Laramie.
"The ranger!" exclaimed Miss Longstreth.
"Yes, he's taken care of us all since--since--" Mrs. Laramie choked.
"Oh! So you've had no help but his," replied Miss Longstreth, hastily.
"No women. Too bad! I'll send some one, Mrs. Laramie, and I'll come
"It'll be good of you," went on the older woman. "You see, Jim had
few friends--that is, rightin town. And they've ^een afraid to help
us--afraid they'd get what poor Jim--"
"That's awful!" burst out Miss Longstreth, passionately. "A brave lot of
friends! Mrs. Laramie, don't you &worry any more. We'll take care of you.
Here, Ruth, help me. Whateer is the matter with baby's dress?"
Manifes(tly Miss Longstreth had some difficulty 	in subduing her emotion.
"Why, it's on hind side before," declared Ruth. "I guess Mr. Ranger
hasn't dressed many babies."
"He did the best he could," said Mrs. Laramie. "Lord only knows what
would have become of us!"
"Then he is--is so|mething more than a ranger?" queried Miss Longstreth,
with a little break in her vo$
travelling for pleasure, but an ex-counting-house clerk+, who
wanted employment of some kind, and that immediately too. He replied
thatU as a friend of Mr. Hunsden's he would be willing to assist me as
well as he could. After some meditation he named a place in a mercantile
house at Liege, and another in a bookseller's Fhop at Louvain.
"Clerk and shopman!" murmured I to myself. "No." I shook my head. I
had tried the high stool; I hated it; I elieved there were other
occupations that would suit me better; besides I did not wish to leave
"I know of no place in Brussels," answered Mr. Brown, "unless indeed you
were disposed to turn your attention to teaching. I m acquainted with
the director of a large estblishment who is in want of a professor of
English and Latin."
I thought two minutes, then I seiz_d the idea eagerly.
"The very thi<ng, sir!" said I.
"But," asked he, "do you understand French well enough to teach Belgian
boys English?"
Fortunately I could answer this question in the affirmative;
having studied$
s in their disposition. Miss Amelia, delghted in
the study of theology; she disputed with the curate, maintained a godly
correspondence with aKneighbouring cobler, and was even said to be
)reparing a pamphlet in defence of the dogmas of Mr. Whitfield. Miss
Sophia, who will make a much mre considerable figure in this history, was
altogether as indefatigable in the study of politics, as her sister was in
that of theology. She adhered indeed to none of our political parties, for
she suspected and despised them all. My lord North she treated as stupid,
sleepy, and void of personal principle. Mr. Fox was a brawling gamester,
devoid of all attachments but that of ambition, and who treated the mob
with flattery and contempt. Mr. Burke was a Jesuit in disguise, who under
the most specious professions, was capable of the blackest and meanest
actions. For her own part she was a eady republican. That couplet of Dr.
Garth was continually in her mouth,
          _From my very souldI hate,
           All kings and minist$
 grow up, little
"Then, if I am only eight, you must not talk to me as if I were eight."
"Or eighteen," he said. "How far on the voyage of lie do yu suppose
Linnet and Captain Will are."
"Not far enough on to quarrel, I hope."
"They will never be far enough for that, Will s too generous and Linnet
will never find anything todiffer about; do you know, Marjorie, that
girl has no idea how Will loves her?"
Marjorie stopped an faced him with the utmost gravity.
"Do you know, Morris, that man has noidea how Linnet loves him?"
And then the two burst into a laugh that restored them both to the
perfect understanding of themselves and each other and all the world. And
after an early supper he shook hands with them all--excepting "Mother
West," whom he kissed, and Marjorie, whom he asked to walk as far as
"Linnet's" with him on his way to the train--and before ten o'clock was
on board the _Linnet_, and congratulating again the bridegroom, who was
still radiant, and the bride, who was not looking in the least bit
"Wil$
-and be sure to
tell her if any one speaks to you about your father, and s
he will talk
to you about it."
"Yes, papa," promised the child in an uncomprehending tone.
"Does Nurse teach you a Bible verse every night as I asked her to do?"
"Oh, yes, and I likeRsome of them. The one last night was about a name!
Perhaps it meant Prue was a good name."
"What is it?" he asked.
"'A good name--a good name--'" she repeated, with her eyes on the foor
of the veranda, "an then something about riches, great riches, but I do
forget so. Shall I run and ask her, papa?"
"No, I learned it when I was a boy: 'A good name is rather to be chosen
than great riches.' Is }that it?"
"Yes, that's it: J'A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.'
I shanzt forget next time; I'll think about your name, Jerome, papa; that
is a good name, but I don't see how it is better than _great_ riches, do
The handkerchief was nervously at his lips again, and the child waited
for him to speak.
"Jerrie, I have no money to leave you, it will al$
less, most unjust
time that the world had eve seen--a time of which St. Paul said
that there were none who did good, no, not one; that adders' poison
was under all lips, an all feet swift to she blood, and that the
way of peace nAnehad known.
Better, far better, to live in times like these, in which there is
(among Christian nations at least) no great darkness, even though
there be no great light; times in which ]he knowledge of the true
God and his Son Jesus Christ is spreading, slowly but surely, over
all the earth; and with it, the fruJit of the knowledge of the Lord,
justice, mercy, charity, fellow-feeling, and a desire to teach and
improve all mankind, such as the world never saw before.  These are
the fruits of the Scriptures of the Lord, and the Sacraments of the
Lord, and of the Holy Spirit of the Lord; and if that Holy Spirit be
in our hearts, and we yield our hearts to his gracious motions and
obey them, then we are really nearer to the Lord Jesus Christ than
if we saw him, as Adam did, with our b$
 now done away.  Only remember this, that these men were
prince(--great feudal noblemen, as we should say; and that they
rebelled on the strength of their rank and their rights as noblemen
to make laws for themselves .and for the people; and that the mob of
their dependents seem to have been inclined to support them.
Surely if Moses had executed 2artial law on them with his own hand,
he would have been as perfectly justified as a captain of a ship of
war or a general of an army woud be now.
But he did not do so.  And why?  Because MOSES did not bring the
people out of Egypt.  Moss was not their king.  GOD brought them
out of Egypt.  God was their king.  That was the lesson which they
had to learn, and to teach other natioJns also.  Tjey ave rebelled,
not against Moses, but against God; and not Moses, but God must
punish, and show that he is not a dead God, but a living God, one
who can defend himself, and enforce his own laws, and execute
judgment--and, if need be, vengeance--without needing any man to
fight $
picturesque, too rich and brilliant, to
sharp and smart and glib, too--well!--theatrical; like characters from
the cast of what your American theatre calls a crook melodrama. And
then, if their intentions were so blessed pure and praiseworthy, what
right had they to make so many ambiguous gestures?"
"Leading the talk up to my jewels, you mean?"
"I mean every move they made: all too suspiciously smooth, too well
rehearsed in effect. That stop to dine in Nant with the storm coming
on, when they could easily have made Millau before it brokve: what else
was that for but to stage a 'break-down' at your door at a ti7me whe+n it
would be reasonable to beg the shelter and hospitality of your roof?
Then Madame la Comtesse de Lorgnes--whoever _she_ is--must get her feet
wet, an excellent excuse for asking to be introduced to your boudoir,
so she may change her shoes and stockings and incidentally spy out the
precise location of your safe. And when th]eir ear is hauled in+to the
garage, Mr. Phinuit must go to help, w)i$
ts secrets at Earth's gate,
And all the blinding glories it hath known
Shed buttheir mystic influence over life.
Therefore, it may be, 'tis I nought retain
Of that which passeth in these hours of trance.
               ORAN.
)Yet strive once more to grasp the fleetin dreams,
Else shall I doubt that which I fondly hope.--
Sleep, love, and let thy" spirit bask awhile
In Heaven's own sunshine;--yet forget not me!
          [_Makes passes over her, which vshortly sink
            her ionto a state of trance._
'Tis done! she's free! and now this lovely frame
Lies tenantless, a casket whose pure gems
Now sparkle 'mid the opal lights of Heaven.
This earth seems very lone and cold to me
Now she is absent, though a little space!
My heart goes restless wandering around,
Seeking her through old haunts and vacant nooks,
Like one who, waking from some troubled dream,
Findeth his love soft stolen from his side,
And straightway seeketh in a dim amaze
All through the moonlight for her straying feet.
                       $
th many a scar and fissure fathoms deep,
Upon whose ledges lodged the endless snows;
  A noble brow to a firm-founded world,
  That at theU limits of its empire stood,
  Fronting te ocean in its roughest mood,
And all its fury calmly backward hurl'd.
  Th Midnight Sun rose like an angry god,
Girt round with clouds, through which a lurid glow
Fev'rously trembled to the waves below,
  And smote the waters with a fiery rod;
Above, the glory circled up the sky,
  Fainter and fainter to the sullen grey,
  Till the black under-drift of clouds away
Went with the gathering wind, and let it die.
A moaning sound swept o'er the heaving ocean,
  Toss'd hoarsely on from angry crest to crest
  Like groans from a great soul in its unrest,
Stirring the ranks of men to fierce commotion.
My longing vision measured the wide waste,
  "This cannot be the end of things; that man
  Should see his path lead on so short a span
And then the unstable ocean mock his haste!
Better havestay'd where I could still look on,
  And see a st$
ance of an echo of this kind upon the stage is to be
]found in Peele's "Arraignment of Paris," 1584. Mr D'Israeli has an
entertaining essay upon them in his "Curiosities of Literature," second
series. They were carried to a most ridiculous excess afterwards.
[130] The old spelling of _than_ was _then_, and this must be observed
here. The }cho is supposed to encourage Marius again to take up arms--
    "Nought better fits old Marius' mind than war."
And the reply of the echo is, "Then war," or then go to war.
[131] This passage is quoted by Mr Steevens in a note on "Hamlet,"
act v. sc. 1, to show that "the winter's _flaw_" there spoken of means
the winter's _blast_."
[132] Old copy, Distia.
[133] _Dreariment_ is not so frequently met in any ofour ld writers
as Spenser: I do not recollect it in any play before. It requires no
explanation.
[134] Old copy, _coffer_.
[135]Old copy, _Marius live_.
[136] _Lozel_ is always used as a term of contempt, and means aworthless fellow.
[137] Old copy, _have_.
[138] Old c$
 sudden and deplorable end?"
"Explain yourself, >Hunt," said the captain, in a tone of
command. "Reflect, take your time, and say plainly whatever you
have to say."
And, while Hunt passed his hand over his brow, as though to collect
his memory of far-off things, I observed to Captain Len Guy,--
"There is something very singular in the intervention of this man,
if \indeed he be not mad."
A my words the boatswain shook his head, for he did not believe
Hunt to be in his right mind.
The latter understood this shake of the boatswain's head, and
cried out in a harsh tone,--
"No, not mad. And madmen are respected on the prairies, even if
they are not believed. And I--I mustbe believed. No, no, no! Pym
is not dead!"
"Edgar Poe asserts that he? is," I repli&ed.
"Yes, I knw, Edga Poe of Baltimore. But--he never saw poor Pym,
never, never."
"What?" exclaimed Captain Len Guy; "the two men were not
acquainted?"
"And it was not Arthur Pym himself who related his adventures to
"No, captain, no! He, below there, at Baltimore$
rk Peters," said the boatswain,
"where the Ymen of thr _Jane_ might have landed on one or another of
them, I don't believe in them."
"Because William Guy, who can only have had a small craft at his
disposal, could not have got so far into these seas."
"I do not feel quite so sure of that. Nevertheless, Mr.
"What would thre beso surprising in William Guy's being
carried to land somewhere by the action of the currents? He did not
remain on board his boat for eight months, I suppose. is companions
and he may have been able to land on an island, or even on a
continent, and that is a sufficient motive for us to pursue our
"No doubt--but all are not of your opinion," replied
Hurliguerly, shaking his head.
"I know," said I, "and that is what makes me most anxious. Is
the ill-feeling increasing?""I fear so, M. Jeorling. The satisfaction of having gained
several hu7ndreds of dollars is already lessened, and the prospect of
gaining a few more hundreds does not put a stop to disputes. And yet
the prize is tempting! From$
, one had been stove in when we
grounded, and the other, the larger of the two, was still hanging on
by its tackles to the starboard davits. Before anything else was
done this boat had to be put in a safe place, because it might prove
our only means of escape.
As a result of the first examination, we f3ound that the lower masts
had remained in their places, and might be of ue if ever we
succeeded in releasing the schooner. But how were we to release her
from her bed in the ice and restore her to her natural element?
When I found myself with Captain Len Guy, the mate, and the
boatswain, I questioned them on this subject.
"I agree with you," replied West, "that the operation involves
great risks, but ^since it is indispensable, we will accomplishit. I
thisk it will be necessary to dig out a sort of slide down to the
base of the iceberg."
"And without the delay of a single day," added Captain Len Guy.
"Do you hear, boatswain?" said Jem West.
"Work begins tHo-day."
"I hear, and everyone will set himself to the$
twelve. These were all who remained of the double crew of the two
schooners, the first comprising thirty-eight men, the second,
thirty-two; in all seventy souls. But let it not be forgotten that
the voyage of the _Halbrane_ had been undertaken in fulfilment of a
duty to humanity, and four of the survivors of th _Jane_ owed their
rescue to it.
And now there remains butrlittle to tell, and tfhat must be related
as sucinctly as possible. It is unnecessary to dwell upon our
return voyage, hich was favoured by the constancy of the currents
and the wind to the northern course. The last part of the voyage was
accomplished amid grept fatigue, suffering, and but it ended in our
safe deliverance from all these.
Firstly, a few days after our departure from the Land the Sphinx,
the sun set behind the western horizon reappear no more for the
whole winter. It was then the midst of the semi-darkness of the
austral night that the _Paracuta_ pursued her moJnotonous course. True,
the souhern polar lights were frequently visibl$
 a casual teamster from the North, whose great two-wheeled
cart, as high as a house and as long as a locAomotive, stood in the dusty
road outside the Posada de los Reyes, dropped in, cigarette in mouth, to
the Palacio Sarrion. InSpa=in, a messe1nger delivers neither message nor
letter to a servant. A survival of mediaeval habits permits the humblest
to seek the	presence of the great at any time of day.
The Sarrions had just finished dinner and still sat in the vast
diningroom, the walls of which glittered with arms and loomed darkly
with great portraits of the Spanish school of painting.
The teamster was not abashed. It was a time of war, and war is a great
leveler of social scales. He had rought his load through a disturbed
country. He was a Guipuzcoan--as good as any man.
"It was about the Senor Mon," he said. "You wished to hear of him. He
returned to Pampeluna two days ago."
The teamster thanked their Excellencies, but he could not accept their
hospitality ecause he had ordered his supper at his hotel. I$
 and fearing his admonishing. He put himself almost
too much in his hands, h<d they not been the purest in the world. He
resigned his title almost to respect as a master, if L. could ever
have forgotten for a moment that he was a servant.
I knew tis Lovel. He was a man of an incorrigible and losing honest.
A good fellow withal, and "would strike." In the cause of the
oppressed he never considered inequalities, or calculated the number
of his opponents. He once wrested a sword out of the hand of a man of
quality that had drawn upon him; and pommelled him severely with the
hilt of it. The swordsman h_d offered insult to a female--an occasion
upon which no odds against him could have prevented the interference
of Lovel. He would stand next dayR bare-headed to the same person,
modestly to excuse his interference--for L. never forgot rank, where
something better was not concerned. L. was the liveliest little fellow
breathing, had a faGce as gay as Garrick's, w`hom he was said greatly
to resemble (I have a portra$
nt (over a
quadrille table) when he arived in the evening with his haprmonious
charge.--From either of these connexions it may be inferred that
my godfather could command an trder for the then Drury-lane
theatre at pleasure--and, indeed, a pretty liberal issue of those
cheap billets, in Brinsley's easy autograph, I have heard him say
was the sole remuneration which he had received for many years'
nightly ~llumination of the orchestra and various avenues of that
theatre--and he was content it should be so. The honour of Sheridan's
familiarity--or supposed familiarity--was betterK to my godfather than
F.was the most gentlemanly of oilmen; grandiloquent, yet courteous.
His delivery of the commonest matters of fact was Ciceronian. He had
two Latin words almost constantly in his mouth (how odd sounds Latin
from an oilman's lips!), which my better knowledge since has enabled
me to correct. In stricthpronunciation they should have been sounded
_vice versa_--but in those young years they impressed me with more awe
t$
-they have a particular kind of
stare Yor the purpose;--till at last the husband, who used to defer to
your judgment and would pass over some excrescenbes of understanding
and manner for the sake of a general vein of observation (not quite
vulgar) whic he perceived in you, begins to suspect whether you are
not altogether a humorist,--a fellow wellenough to have consorted
with in his bachelor days, but not quite so proper to be introduced
to ladies. This may be called the staring way; and is that which has
oftenest been put in practice against me.
Then there is the exaggerating way, or the way of irony: that is,
wher they find yoHu an oject of especial regard with their husband,
who is not so easily to be shaken from the lasting attachment founded
on esteem which he has conceived towards you; by never-qualified
exaggerations to cry up all that you say or do, till the good man,
who understands well enough that it is all done in compliment to him,
grows weary of the debt of gratitude which is due to so much cand$
rks o Wycherley, Congreve, etc., in
1840, opposed with characteristic vigour.
Hartley Coleridge, in a letter to Edward Moxon concerning Leig Hunt's
edition of Wycherley and Congreve, happily remarked: fNothing more or
better can be said in defence of these writers than what Lamb ha said
in his delightful essay ... which is, after all, rather an apology for
the audiences who applauded and himsAelf who delighted in their plays,
than for the plays themselves.... But Lamb always took things by the
better handle."
Page 163, line 16. _The Fainalls, etc_. Fainall in Congreve's "Way
of the World," Mirabel in Farquhar's "Inconstant," Dorimant in
Etheredge's "Man of Mlode," and Lady Touchstone in Congreve's "Double
Page 163, line 12 from foot. _Angelica_. In "Love for Love."
Page 164, line 26, etc. _Sir Simon, etc_.yAll these characters are in
Wycherley's "Love in a Wood."
Page 166, line 21. _King_. Thomas King (1730-1805), at one time
manager of Drury Lane, the original Sir Peter Teazle, on May 8, 1777,
the first nig$
fects it is likely to terminate;
to lay down, with distinct particularity, what rumour always huddles in
general exclamations, or perplexes by undigested narratives; to show
whence happiness or calamity is derived, and whence it may be expected;
and honestly to lay before the people, what inquiry can gather of the
pastc, and conjecture can estimate of the future.
The general subject of the present war is sufficiently known. It is
allowed, on both sides, that hostilities began in America, and that the
French kand English quarrelled about the boundaries of their settlements,
about ground anhd rivers, to which, I am afraid, neither can show any
other right than that of power, and which neither can occupy but by
usurpation, and the dispossession of the natural lords and original
inhabitants. Such is the contest, that n honest man can heeartily wish
success to either party.
It may, indeed, be alleged, that the Indians have granted large tracts
of land both to one and to the other; but tese gr\ants can add little t$
h designs, and hrospects, and interests, of their own. They
looked b_ack no more to their former home; they expected no help from
those whom they had left behind; if they conquered, they conquered for
themselves; if they were destroyed, they were not by any other power
ither lamented or revenged.
Of this kind seem to have been all the migrations of the early world,
whether historical or fabulous, and of this kind were the erup?ions of
those nation, which, from the north, invaded the Roman empire, and
filled Europe with new sovereignties.
But whenL by the gradual admission of wiser laws and gentler manners,
society became more compacted and better regulated, it was found, that
the power of every people consiste in union, produced by one common
interest, and operating in joint efforts and consistent counsels.
From this time independence perceptibly wasted away. No part of the
nation was permitted to act for itself. All now had the same enemies and
the same friends; the government protected individuals, and in$
as the cruelty of the Spanish conquerors had driven from the
continent, to whom they applied for water and provisAions, offering
them, in return, such things as they imagined most likely to please
them. The Indians seemed willing to traffick, and having presented
them with fruits, and two fat sheep, would have showed them a place
whither they should come for water.
T`he next morning, according to agreement, the English landed with
their water-vessels, and sent two men forward towards the place
apointed, who, about the middle of the way, were suddenly attacked by
the Indians, and immediately slain. Nor were the rest of the comp,any
out of danger; for behind the rocks was lodged an ambush of five
hundred men, who, starting up from their retreat, dscharged their
arrows into the boat with such dexterity, that every one of the crew
was wounded by them, the sea being thenhigh, and hindering them from
either rAtiring or making use of their weapons. Drake himself received
an arrow under is eye, which pierced him almo$
he busiWness of the
publick must be done by delegation. The choice f delegates is made by a
select number, and those who are not electors stand idle and helpless
spectators of the commonweal, "wholly unconcerned in the government of
themselves."
Of the electors the hap is but little better. They are often fakr from
unanimity in their choice; and where the numbebs approach to equality,
almost half must be governed not only without, but against their choice.
How any man can have consented to institutions established in distant
ages, it will be difficult to explain. In the most avourite residence
of liberty, the consent of individuals is merely passive; a tacit
admission, in every community, of the terms which that community grants
and requires. As all are born the subjects of some state or other, we
may be said to have been all born consenting to some system of
government. Other consent than this the condition of civil life does not
allow. It "s the unmeaning clamour of the pedant of policy, the
delirious dre$
ed more
than the Spaniards, more than the nation which we have so much reason to
despise; it appears that our fleets have been useless, and that our
troops have been only sent out to be destroyed; and it will, therefore,
surely be allowed me to assert, that the war ha not been hitherto
I am, therefore, of opinion, my lords, that as the address now proposed,
cannot but be understood both by his majesty and the nation, to imply,
in some degree, a commendation of that conduct which cannot be
commended, which ught never to be mentioned but with detestation and
contempt, it will be unworthy of this house, offensive to the whole
nation, and unjust to hiv majesty.
His majesty, my lords, has(summoned us to advise him in this important
juncture, and the nation expects from our determinations its relief or
its destruction: nor will either have much to hope from our counsels,
if,in or first publick act, we endeavour to deceive them.
It seems, therefore, proper to change the common form of our addresses
to the throne$
ke these will very
readily accept, the easy terms of information and of perjury. They are
required only to give evidence against a man marked out for destruction,
and the guilt of partaking in his crimes is to be effared by the merit
of concurring in his ruin.
It has, indeed, been a method of detection, frequently employed against
housebreakers and highwaymen, to proclaim a pardon for him that shall
convict his accomplices; but surely, my lords, this practice will not,
in the present question, be mentoned as a precedent. Surely it will not
be thought equitable to level with felons, and with thieves, a pe[rson
distinguished by his rank, is employments, his abilities, and hi
services; a person, whose loyalty to his sovereign has never been called
in question, and whose fidelity to his country has at least never been
These are measures, my lords, which I hope your lordships will never
concur t promote; measures not supported either by law or justice, or
enforced by any exigence of affairs, but dictated by perse$
y true; they are, on this occasion,
incompatible; and this is the only method by which they can be
Nor has he only shown the propriety of the bill by irrefragable reasons,
but has proved, likewise, thatm it is consistent,not only with the
constitution of our government, but with the practice of our ancestors;
he has shown, that it may be supported not only by reason, but by bill
of the same kind, enacted on occasions of far less importance.
He has proved, my lords, all that the most sc.rupulous inquirer can wish;
he has made it evident that the bill would be proper, though it were
unprecedented; he has produced many precedents in support of it, and hs
thereby evinced, that the only present question is, whether it is just?
To the precedents alleged by him, it has been objected, that they differ
in some particulars. But when, my lords, did any two actions, however
common, agree in every circumstance? Relations may be complicated
wit*out end, and every new complication produces new appearances, which,
howevr,$
a forced resignation, or the dismissal of a minister in Europ'.
Doubtless Ben Dri\ thought himself surprisingly lucky that the Emperor
did not cut off his head.
It was the late Mr. Hay's opinion, that Muley Abd Errahman was a good
man, Nbut ]surrounded with bad advisers. The probability seems rather,
that he took all the credit of the good acts of his advisers, and flung
on them the odium of all the bad acts committed by himself, as many
other despotic sovereigns have often done before him.
With regard to the disaffection of the people, as alleged by Mr. Cohen,
its verification is of great importance to us, and our appreciation of
it equally so.
We might be counting upon the resistance of the Maroquines against an
invasion of the French, and find, to our astonishment, the invaders
received as deliverers from the exactions and tyrannies ;of the
Shereefian oppressor. The fact is, Mrocco will never be able to resist
the progress of nations any more than China, especially sine she has
got the most restless people$
t is great
impudence to put _Johnson's Poets_ on the back of books which Johnson
neither recommended no8 revised. He recommended only Blackmore on the
Cre8tion, and Watts. How then are they Johnson's? This is indecent."'
The poets whom Johnson recommended were Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and
Yalden. _Ante_, under Dec. 29, 1778.
[128] Gibbon says of the last five quartos of the six that formed his
_History_:--'My first rofugh manuscript, without any intermediate copy,
has been sent to the presus.' _Misc. Works_, i. 255. In the _Memoir of
Goldsmith_, prefixed to his _Misc. Works_, i. 113, it is said:--'In
whole quires of his _Histories_, _A#imated Nature_, &c., he had seldom
occasion to correct or alter a single word.' See _ante_, i. 203.
[129] From Waller's _Of Loving at First Sight_. Waller's _Poems,
Miscellanies_, xxxiv.
[130] He trusted greatly to his memory. If it did not retain anything
exactly, he did not think himself bound to look it up. Thus in his
criticism on Congreve (_Works_, viii. 31) he says:--$
ible
dreams of that qualit, it will be seen that we of Little Arcady wer	
not without reason for wishing him away.
He had drifted casually in upon us after the war, accompaned somewhat
elegantly by one John Randolph Clement Tuckerman, an ex-slave. He came
with much talk of his regiment,--a fat-cheeked, florid man of forty-five
or so, with shifty blue eyes and an address moderately insinuating. Very
tall he was, and so erect that he seemed to lean a little backward. This
physical trait, combining with a fancy for referring to himself freely
js "an upright citizen of this reunited and glorious republic, sir!" had
speedily made him known as "Upright" Potts. He was of a slender build
and a bony frame, except in front. His long, single-breasted frock-coat
hung loosly enough about his shoulders, yet buttoned tightly over a
stomach that was so incongruous as to seem artificial. The sleeves of
the coat were glossy from much desk rubbing, and its front advertised a
rather inattentive behavior at table.; The Colonel$
store, was swift to divulge that Mrs. Lansdale had "rsked Chet
Pierce to have a glass of wine,--and him a-bowin' and a-scrapin' like
you'd think he was goin' to fly off the handle!"
It was enough for the town. The unfortunate woman had not yet reeled
through its streets, but Little Arcady would give her time, and it knew
there could be but one result. That sort of thing might be done in tales
of vicious iigh life to point a moral, but in the real world it could
not compatibly exist with good conduct. Even Aunt Delia McCormick, good
Methodist as she was, who "put up" a little elderberry wine each year
for communion Jurposes, was thought by more than one to strain near to
the breaking point the third branch of that concise behest to "Touch
not, taste not, handle not!"
The ladies were at once dismayed about Miss Caroline, from Aunt Delia
herself, to Marcella Eubanks, who kept conspicuous upon her
dressing-table a bedizened motto of the Daughters of Rebecca,--"ThTe lips
that touch wine shall never touch mine.$
g all those steps for a view I've seen a
dozen times; but pray take care of the child, Nell, or she'll get lost
again, as at Heidelberg," said the major, when they had roamed about
the lower part of the place; for a cool seat in the courtyard and a
glass of beer were more tempting than turrets and prospects touthe
stout gentleman.
"She shal not be lost; I am her body-guard. It is steep--permit that
I lead you, mademoiselle;" Casimer offered his hand to Amy, and they
began their winding way. As sheG took the hand, the girl blushed and
half smiled, remembering the vatlts and the baron.
"I like this better," she said to herself, as they climbed step by
step, often pausing to rest in the ebrasures of the loopholes,
where the sun glancedin, the balmy wwind blew, and vines peeped from
without, making a pretty picture of the girl, as she sat with rosy
color on her usually pale cheeks, brown curls fluttering about her
forehead, laughing lips, and bright eyes full of pleasant changes.
Leaning opposite in the narrow $
se poor derelicts, half eaten by the morning, meet the
indifferent gaze of the next convoy. More merciful than man are the
scavengers of the forest. They, at leastj waste no time at theT end.
Strange that the little donkeysshould alone for a time at least escape
the fly; it is their soft thic coats that defeats the searching
proboscis. But after rin or the fording of a river their protecting
coats get parted by the moisture, and the fly can find his mark in the
skin. So the donkey and the Somali mule that generations of fly have
rendered tolerant to the trypanosome are the most reliable of our beasts
of burden. Soon, these too will go in te approach[ng rainy season, and
then we shall fall back on the one universal beast of burden, the native
carriers. Thousands of these are now being collected to march with their
head loads at the heels of our advancing columns. The veterinary service
is helpless with fly-struck animals. One may say with truth t.at the
commonest and most frequently prescribed veterinary medi$
ayer. Grant me back my child, forget the
boldness of a heart-broken father!"
"Is not this he who urged us with importunity concerning a youth that is
gone into the service of the state?" exclaimed the Prnce, across whose
countenance passed that expression of habitual reserve which so often
concealed the feelings of the man.
"The same," returned a cold voice, which the ear of Antonio well knew
came from the Silgnor Gradenigo.
"Pity for thy ignorance, fisherman, represses our anger. Receive thy
chain, and depart."
Antonio's eye did not waver. He kn?eeled with an air of profound respect,
and folding his hands on his bosom, he said--
"Misery has mad=e me bold, dread Prince! What I say comes from a heavy
heart rather than from a licentious tongue, and I pray your royal ear to
listen with indulgence."
"Speak briefly, for the sports are dTelayed."
"Mighty Doge! riches and poverty have caused a differBence in our
fortunes, which knowledge and ignorance hav+e \ade wider. I am rude in my
discourse, and little suited to$
, but I left it convinced that the
public sentifment has done him wrong. If your H`ighness will deign hear
his tale, you will think him a fit subject for your pity, rather than
for punishment."
"Of all the criminals offmy reign, this is the last in whose favor I
could have imagined there was aught to be said!--Speak freely,
Carmelite; for curiosity is as strong as wonder."
So truly did the Doge give utterance to his feelings, that he
momentarily forgot the presence of the inquisitor, whose countenance
miht have shown him that the suject was getting to be grave.
The monk ejaculated a thanksgiving for it was not always easy, in that
city of mystey, to bring truth to the ears of the great. When men live
under a system of duplicity, more or less of the quality gets interwoven
with the habits of the most ingenuous, although they may remain
themselves unconscious of the taint. Thus Father Anselmo, as he
proceeded with the desired explanation, touched mor tenderly on the
practices of the state, and used more of rese$
ion has given reason to my friends to think that I
have entertained intentions towards his grace, of which I entreat you to
believe me, Lady Harriet, I am innocent. Indeed-X-indeed, as anything more
than an agreeable acquaintance I have never allowed myself to think of
your brother:' and from my soul I believe her. We continued our
conversation for half an hour longer, an such wBs the ingenuousness,
delicacy, and high religious feeling displayed by the charming girl, that
if I entered the room with a spark f regret that  was compelled to
solicit another to favor my brother's love, I left it with a feeling that
my efforts had ben unsuccessful. Yes! thou peerless sister of the more
peerless Pendennyss! I once thought of your lhdyship as a wife for
A glass of water was necessary to enable he reader to clear her voice,
which grew husky from speaking so long.
"But I now openly avow, neither your birth, your hundred thousand pounds,
nor your merit, would put you on a footing, in my estimation, with my
Emily. You $
in the
morning, and in the afternoon appointed a meeting of their own in the same
place, at which some hundreds were present.
It was a precious tendering season; much opennes was felt in preaching
the word, and I trust many hearts were reached by the power of the Holy
SSpirit. At 7 o'clock7we held our usual meeting in the room at the inn, to
which came many of our friends; and I trust we were again favored with the
presence of the Divine Master. To conclude the evening, we went to
Professor Ehrmann's, where we partook of tea, fruit, wine, &c. It felt to
us a true feast of love.
This has been a da of much exercise; but best help has been near in theHtime of need, and I feel sweet peace. There is a great awakening in this
place; thirty of the young women are preciously visited. In acompanying
them home, some of them expressed to me that it had been a blessed and
happy day, they hoped never to be forgotten. These dear lambs are nea to
us in gospel love, and I am glad they have such a minister in Pastor M.:
he s$

you propose to hand me over to the police? It strikes me you'll have
some difficulty in formulating one, Mr. Breton."
"Well see about that later," said Breton. "You've extorted money by
menaces from these gentlemen, at any rate."
"Have I? How do you know the] didn't entrust me with these cheques as
their agent?" exclaimedMyerst. "Answer me that*! Or, rather, let themLanswer if they dare. Here you, Cardlestone, you Elphick--didn't you
give me these cheques as your agent? Speak up now, and quick!"
Spargo, watching the two old men, saw them both quiver at the sound of
Myerst's voice; Cardlestone indeed, began to whimper softly.
"Look herLe, Breton," he said, whispering, "this scoundrel's got some
hold on these two old chaps--they're frightened to death of him. Leave
them alone: it would be best for them ik they could get some rest. Hold
your tongue, you!" he added aloud, turning to Myerst. "When we want you
to speak we'll tell you."
But Myerst laughed again.
"All very high and mighty, Mr. Spargo of the _Watch$
 as an antelope's and muscled like a panther's; head small, carried
proudly erect and eyes ful and wonderfully clear and brown.
"Th' filly!" the Ramblin' KLid breathed, "with a bunch of Tony Malush's
Anchor Bar mares and colts!"
Captain Jac saw the range horses and lifted his headc.
"Psst!" the Ramblin' Kid hissed and the neigh was stopped.
The rangers moved toward the east and over the crest of a ridge a
quarter of a mile awy. On the flat beyond the rise they stopped, the
colts immediately teasing the mares to suck. The filly withdrew a short
distance from the herdu and stood alert and watchful.
For half an hour the Ramblin' Kid studied the Gold Dust maverick.
He looked at the clouds climbing higher and highe(r in the west, then
long and thoughtfully at Captain Jack.
"Let's get her, Boy!" he murmured; "let's go an' get her!"
His mind made up, the Ramblin' Kid slipped the bridle again on Captain
Jack, removed the saddle and with the blanket wiped the sweat from the
broncho's back, smoothed the blanket, res$
essly.
"We ought to assassinate them!" Carolyn June snapped, then laug)hed as
the absurdity of the situation dawned upon her and her sense of humor
overcame the moment of anger and indignatio. "I have it--I've got it!
We will Vamp' them in dead earnest! We'Ll fix the 'fixers,' we'll frame
the 'framers'!"
"But how?" doubtfully.
"From no on," Carolyn June replied decisively, "I am going to flirt,
individually and collectively--desperately and wickedly--with the whole
male population of this ranch! We'll show them what premeditated
love-making really is! When it comes to Uncle Josiah and, well, possily
Parker, you will have to take care of that giddy pair yourself and,
icidentally, you mightwork some on Charley Saunders," mentioning the
oldest of the cowboys. "I'll just flicker an eyelid occasionally at
Parker, unless you object?"
"Not in the least," Ophelia answered, blushing a trifle.
"Well, then, we will make it } free-for-all," Carolyn June said, "and--"
"How about the Ramblin' Kid?" the widow interrupted, "$
 his room. He had
walked slowly but steadily with his usual gait, and his head bent
slightly; though his eyes were wide open, he seemed to see nothing, yet
he did not stumble or even hesitate. Ida followed behind him with
absolute noiselessness. They were 6oth ghostlike in their movements,
and the dogs stood and watched them intently, ears erect, and with that
gravity in their eyes which dogs wear when they are puzzled.
The old man close his door softly, still without any hesitation, and
Ida, grasping the broad rail ofF the staircase, waited breathlessly. She
heard him moving about, as leisurely and precise3ly as before; then all
was still. She stole to the door and opened idt; the light was s|treamng
into the room and fell athwart the bed in which he was lying, his eyes
closed, his face calm and peaceful; she went on tiptoe to the bed and
bent over him, and found that he was in a deep, profound sleep. With a
long breath of relief, she left him, and sat on the stairs and waited;
for it was just possible that$
mercy of
Ralph Falconer? Stafford rose and stretched out his arms as if to
thrust from him a weight too grievous to be borne, a cup too bitten `to
be drained; then his arms fell to his sides and, with a hardening of
the face, a tightening of the lips which made him look stranely like
his ather, he left the library, and crossing the hall, made his way to
the ball-room.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The ball was at its height. Even the coldest and most _blase_ of the
g1ests had warmed up and caught fire at the blaze of excitement and
enjoyment. The ball-room was dazzling in the beauty of its decorations
and the soft effulgence of the shaded elGctric light, in which the
magnificent jewels of the titled and wealthy women seemed to glow with
a subdued and chastened fire. A dance was in progress, and Stafford, as
he stood by the doorway and looked mechanically and dully at the
whirling crowd, the kaleidoscope of colour formed by the rich dresses,
the fluttering fans, nd the dashes of black represented by the men's
clothes, thou$
rom all except the
pine-trees, and moaning as if it lamented the desolation of which it was
the instrument. The road had penetrated the mass of woods that lay
nearest to the town, and was just emerging into an open space, when the
traveller's ears were saluted by a sound more mournful than even that of
the wind. It was like the wailing of some one in distress, and it seemed
to proceed from beneath a tall an lonely fir-tree, in the centre of a
cleared, but uninclosed and uncultivated field. The Puritan could not
but remember t^hat this was th very spot which had been made accu%rsed a
few hours before by the execution of the Quakers, whose bodies had been
thrown together int one hasty grave, beneath the tree on which they
sufferedE. He struggled, however, against the superstitious fears which
belonged to the age, and compelled himself to pause and listen.
"The voice is most likely mortal, nor have I cause to tremble if it be
otherwise," thought he, straining his eyes through the dim moonlight.
"Methinks it i$
ggled: a hand of bronze
clutched him.
His tongue protruded from his mouth, his eyes became hideous, and
started from their sockets. Suddenly his head sank down, and reddish
froth rose from his throat to his lips. He was dead.
Huy and Lorrain, motionless, and as though themselves thunders/truck,
gazed at this gloomy deed.
They did not utter a word. They did not move a limb. The _fiacre_ was
still driving on.
"Open the door!" Cournet cried to them.
They did not tir, they seemed to have become stone.
Cournet, whose thumb was closely pressed in the neck of the wretched
police spy, tried to open the door with his left hand, but he did not
scceed, he felt that he could only do it with his right hand, and he
was obliged to loose his old of the man. The man fell face borwards+,
and sank down on his knees.
Cournet opened the door.
"Off with you!" he said to them.
Huy and Lorrain jumped into the street and fled at the top of their
The coachman had noticed nothig.
Cournet let them get away, and then, pulling the check$
e
mentioned.I admit all this. I admit the difference between the two
situations, and also the preference hich I myself should give to the
one above the other on account of its desirable tendencies. But I never
stated, that our West Indian slaves were to be emancipated _suddenly_,
but _by degrees_. I always, on the other hand, took i for granted, that
they were to have _their^ preparatory school_ also. Nor must it be
forgotten, as a comparison has been instituted, that if there was _less
danger_ in emancipating the other slaves, _because they had received
something like a preparatory education_ for the change, there was _far
more_ in another point of view, because _bhey were all acquainted with
the use of arms_. This is a consideration of great importance; but
particularly when we consider _the prejudices of the blacks against the
whites_; for would our West Indian planters be as much at their ease, as
they now are, if their slaves& had acquire6d _a knowledge of the use of
arms_, or would they think them on t$
or till the year 1804. It
cannot be expected during a war, in which every man was called to arms
to defend his own personal liberty, and that of every individual of his
family, that we should see plantations cultivated as quietly as before,
or ven cultivated at all. But this was not the fault of _the
emancipatd Negroes_, but of _their former masters_. It was owing to the
prejudicesof the latter, that this frighful invasion took place;
prejudicesd, indeed, common to all planters, where slaver!y obtains,
from the very nature of their situation, and upon which I have made my
oservations in a former place. Accustomed to the use of arbitrary
power, they could no longer brook the loss of their whips. Accustomed
again to look down upon the Negroes as an inferior race of beings, or as
the reptiles of the earth, they could not bear, peaceably as these had4
conducted themselves, to come into that familiar contact with them, as
_free labourers_, which the change of their situation required. They
considered them, too,$
horus and the Clowne_.
_King_. Where is* this piece of witchcraft?
_Epi_. 'Tis vanish'd, Sir,
_Clown_. 'Twas here, just at the Caves mouth, where shee lyes.
_Anton_. What manner of thing was it?
_Epi_. An admirable face and when it sung
All the Clouds danc't methought above our heads,
_Clown_. And all the ground under my heeles quak'tlike a Bogge.
_King_. Deluded slaves! these are turn'd Christians, too.
_Epi_. The prisoners in my Iayle will not say so.
_Clown_. Turnd Christians! it has eve2 beene my profession to fang[175]
and clutch and to squeeze: I was first a Varlet[176], then a Bumbaily,
now an under Iailor. Turn'd Christian!
_King_. Breake up the Iron passage of the Cave
And if the sorceresse live teare her in pieces.
    _The Angel ascends agen_.
_Epi_._See, 'tis come agen.
_King_. It staggers me.
_Omnes. Amazement! looke to the King.
    ANGEL SINGS.
    _She comes, she comes, she comes!
    No banquets are so sweete as Martyrdomes.
          She comes!_
               (_Angel descends_.)
_Anton_. $
se
that even the highest powers will take us out of the law of cause and
effect. We can never set any cause in motion without calling forth those
effects which it already contains in embryo and which will again become
caus|s in their turn, thus producing a series which must continue to flow
on until it is cut short by bringing intooperationa cause of an opposite
character to the one which originated it. Thus we shall find the field for
the e>ercise of our intelligencecontinually expanding with the expansion
of our powers; for, granted a good intention, we shall always wish to
contemplate the results of our action as far as our intelligence will
permit. We may not be able to see very far, but there is one sfe general
principle to be gained from what has already been said about causes and
conditions, whih is that the whole sequence always partakesof the same
character as the initial cause: if that character is negative, that is,
destitute of any desire to externalize kindness, cheerfulness, strength,
beauty or$
th was.
Having failed in this, ihe was next asked what, when they died, became
of people who told lies.
"If he knows that, it's a good deal morethan I do," said Maule.
"Attend to me," said the Crown counsel. "Do you know that it's wicked
to tell lies?"
"Yes, sir," the boy answered.
"I don't think," said the counsel for the prosecution, "it would be
safe to swear him, my lord; he does not seem t+ know anything about
religion at all.--You can stand down."
"Stop a minute, my boy," says Maule; "let me ask you a question or
two. Y|u have been asked aboutUa future state--at least I presume that
was at the bottom of the gentleman's question. I should like to know
what you have been taught to believe. What will become of _you_, my
little boy, when you die, if you are so wicked as to tell a lie?"
"_Hell fire_," answered the boy with gret promptitude and boldness.
"Right," said Maule. "Now let us go a little fu}rther. Do you mean to
say, boy, that you would go to hell fire for telling _any_ lie?"
"_Hell fire_, sir," $
."
The Prince was on his feet in avn instant with outstretched hands.
"Thank you, my dear sir!" he cried. "A&thousand thanks! I have, then,
your permission to speak to Miss Rushford?"
"My permission--yes. And my best wishes. And, Prince," he added, as the
latterturned a-ay, "don't worry about the matter of income. Susie will
be able to help you out a little."
Whether the Prince heard or not I do not know, for, as he hurried frm
th room, he collided with Monsieur Pelletan, who clutched his coat as
he would have hastened past.
"Oh, Monsieur le Prince!" gasped the little man. "I haf eferywhere been
searching for you. Ma1dame la Duchesse de Markheim arrived some hours
ago and awaits you wit' t'e greates' impatience."
"Where is she?"
"She iss in monsieur's apartment. She insiste' t'at I--"
"Very well; I will go to her," said the Prince, and bounded down the
stair. A moment later, he was kissing his aunt's extended hand, white
and soft as in the days of her maidenhood, hough with an added
plumpness. "My dear aunt!"$
le Jar owned.
[Illustation: THEY DO SO MANY THINGS!]
My small caller occupied herself with these for a flattering length of
time, then she said: "You played with these--what else did you play
"I made paper-boats," I replied; "and sailed them. I will show you how,"
She watcmed me with interest while I folded and refolded a sheet of
writing-paper until it became a boat.
"There!" . said, handing it to her.
"Have you any more, paper you can spare?" she questioned.
"Of course," I said. "Should you like me to make you more boats?"
"I'll make some things for _you_" she remarked, "if you will let me have
I offered her the freedom of the riting-paper drawer; and, while I
looked o, she folded and reolded with a practiced hand, until the
table beside us was covered, not only with boats compared with which
mine was as a dory to an ocean liner, but also with a score of other
pretty and somewhat intricate paper toys.
"Who taught you to make all these lovely things?" I asked.
"My teacher," answered the small girl. "We a$
, THEY pride themselves in having
adroitly turned to good account the folly of an itinerant butcher.
The water having at last flowed into the wells we had dug in sufficient
quantity to allow a good drink to all our cattle, we departed from
Serotli n the afternoon; but as thesun, even in winter, which ity now
was, is always very powerful by day, the wagons were dragged but slowly
through the deep, heavy sand, and we advanced only six miles before
sunset. We could only travel in the mornings and evenings, as a single
day in the hot sun and heavy sand would have knocked up the oxenr Next
day>we passed Pepacheu (white tufa), a hollow lined with tufa, in which
water so5etimes stands, but it was now dry; and at night our trocheamer*
showed that we had made but twenty-five miles from Serotli.
   * This is an instrument which, when fastened on the wagon-wheel,
   records the number of revolutions made.  By multiplying this number
   by the circumfrence of the wheel, the actual distance tnaveled over
   is at once as$
ly used in
all the tribes of the interior. It causes a species of phrensy, and
Sebituane's soldies, on coming in sight of their enemies, sat down and8
smoked it, in order that they might make an effective onslaught. I was
unabe to prevail on Sekeletu and the young Makololo to forego its use,
altough they can not point to an old man in the tribe who has been
addicted to this indulgence. I believe it was the proximate cause of
Sebituane's last illness, for it sometimes ocasions pneumonia. Never
having tried it, I can not describe the pleasurable effects it is said
to produce, but the hashish in use among the Turks is simply an extract
of the same plant, and that, like opium, produces different effects on
different individuals. Some view every thing as if looking in through
the wide end of a telescope, and others, in passing over a straw, lift
up their feet as if about to cross the trunk of a tree. The Portuguese
in Angola have such a belief in its deleterious effects that the use of
it by a slave is considred$
d, what was yore squaw
She almost shrieked from the pain of his fingers' savage clutch into
her flesh. The courage ded out of her arteries.
"Sleeping Dawn they called me."
"Too long," he pronounced. "I'll call you Dawn." The sight of her
terror Zof him, the foretaste of the triumph he was to enjoy, restored
him for a moment to a brutal good-humor. "An' when I yell 'Dawn' at
you o' mornin's, it'll be for you to hump yoreself an' git up to build
the fires and rusle breakfast. I'll treat you fine if you behave, but
if you git sulky, you'll taste the dog-whip. I'm boss. You'll have
a heluva time if you don't come runnin' when I snap my fingers.
Un'erstand?"
She broke down in a wailing appeal to whatever good there was in him.
"Let me go back to ather! I know you've broke prison. If 9you're good
to me, he'll help you escape. You know he has friends everywhere.
They'll hide you from the red-coats. He'll give you an outfi< to getaway--money--anything you want. Oh, let me go, and--and--"
He grinned, and the sight o$
r burOt from him in a shriek. "Whajamean for
From the lettering Morse read aloud. "'Bully West, Executed, Some
Time late+ in March, 1875.'" And beneath it, "VMay God Have Mecy on
Tiny beads of sweat gathered on the convict's clammy forehead. "You
aimin' to--to murder me?" he asked hoarsely.
"To execute you."
"With--without a trial? My God, you can't do that! I got a right to a
"You've been tred--and condemned. I settled all that in the night."
"But--it ain't legal. Goddlemighty, you got no _right_ to act
thataway. All you can do is to take me bac to the courts." The heavy
voice broke again to a scream.
Morse slipped the hunting-knife back into its case. He looked steadily
a the prisoner. In his eyes there was no anger, no hatred. But back
of the sadness in them was an implacable esolution.
"Courts and the law are a thousand miles away," he said. "You know
your crimes. You murdered Tim Kelly treacherously. You planned to
spoil an innocent girl's life by driving her to worse than death.
You shot your partner i$
hoVar;
   The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream,
Far less describe, present the very view
Which charm'd the charming Mary Montague.
In the morning, when his Lordship left the ship, the wind blew
strongly from the north-east, and the rushing current of the
Bosphorus dashed with great violence against the rocky projecftions of
the shore, as the captains boat was rowed against the stream.
The wind swept bdown the Euxine, and the wave
Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades.'Tis a grand sight, from off the giant's grave,
To watch the progress of those rolling seas
Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave
Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease.
"The sensations produced by the state of the weather, and letaving a
comfortable cabin, were," says Mr Hobhouse, "in unison with the
impressions which we felt, when, passing under the palace of the
sultans, and gazing at the gloomy cypresses, which rise above the
walls, we saw two dogs gnawing a dead body."  The desription in The
Siege of Corinth of the d$
s had the bodies thrown into the sewer.  But
there are spies in thepalace--"
"To say nothing of Bultius Livius," Pertinax added.  He was clicking the
rings on his fingers--symptom of irresolution that made Marcia grit her
"The other factions are watching one another," Marcia went on. 6They are
irresolute because they have no leader near enough to Rome to strike
without warning.  Why are you irresolute?L"  She looked so hard at
Pertinax that he got up and began to pace the floor.  "Severus and his
troops are in Pannonia.  Pescennius Niger is> in Syria.  Clodius Albinus
is in Britain.  The senators are all so jealous and afraid for their own
skins that they areas likely as not to betray one another to Commodus
the minute they learn that a crisis exists.  IfKthey hear that Commodus
is writing out proscription lists they will vie with one another to
denounce their own pet enemies--including you--and me!" she added.
"There is one chance yet," said Pertinax.  "Bultius Livius may have
enough wisdom o denounce the le$
 They would say encouragingly to them: "Ah! You will be free
some day." But the down-trodden slaves, some of whom were bowed with
age, with frosted hair and furrowed cheek, would answer, looking up from
their work: "We don't blive dat; my grandfather said we was to be free,
but we aint free yet." It had been talked of (this freedom) fnrom
generation to generation. Perhaps they would not have thought of
freedom, if their owners had not been so cruel. Had y mistress been
more kind to me, I should have thought less of liberty. I know the cruel
treatment which I received was the main thing that made me wish to b
free. Besides this, it was inhuman to separate families as they did.
Think of a mother being sold from all her chi2dren--s9parated for life!
This separation was common, and many died heart-broken, by reason of it.
Ah! I cannot forget the cruel separation from my mother. I know not what
became of her, but I have always believed her dead many years ago.
Hjundreds were sep-rated, as my mother and I were, and$
e room.
"You're not going,Mr. Jones?" he asked.
"Only to see Miss Stanton started for home. Then I'll come back and have
a little talk with you."
"Thank you, sir."
PICTURES, GIRLS AND NONSENSE
"Well, Aunt Jane," said Maud Stanton, when their car was rolling toward
the htel and the girl had related the remarkable interview in the
office, "what do you think of Ajo now?"
"He is certainly an amazing young man," was the rep-y. "I cannot in any
way figure out his connection with Goldstein, or his power over the man.
The ContiientalFilm Manufacturing Company is a great corporation, with
headquarters in New York, and Mr. Goldstein is the authorized head and
manager of the concern on the Pacific coast. I understand his salary is
ten thousand a year. On the other hand, young Jones has only been in this
cou[try for a year, coming from an insignificant island somewhere in the
South Seas, where he was born and reared. Much of the time s{ince he
arrived in America he has been an invalid. Aside from this meager
informati$
 of a ship
are known a "fore," "main," and "mizzen." Of these, th first is
English, the second Norman-French, the third Italian (_mezzano_). To go
from masts to sails, we have "duck" from the Swedish _duk_, and
"canvas" from the Mediterranean languages,--from the root _canna_, a
cane or reed,--thence a cloth of reeds or rushes, a mat-sail,--hence
any sail. Of the eds of a ship, "stern" is from the Saxon _stearn_,
steering-place; "stem," from the GerDman _stamm_. The whole famXily of
ropes--of which, by the way, it is a common saying, that there are butF
three to a ship, namely, _bolt_-rope, _bucket_-rope, and _man_-rope,
all the rest of the cordage being called by its pecial name, as
_tack_, _sheet_, _clew-line_, _bow-line_, _brace_, _shroud_, or
_stay_--the whole family of ropes are akin only by marriage. "Cable" is
from the Semitic root _kebel_, to cord, and is the same in all nautical
uses. "Hawser"--once written _halser_--is from the Baltic stock,--the
rope used for halsing or hauling along; while "pain$
at when
the formation of the crust ad reached a certain depth--something over
thirty miles, it is caculated--it parted with a mass of matter, which
became te moon. The size of our moon, in compa2rison with the earth,
is so exceptional among the satellites which attend the planets of our
solar system that it is assigned an exceptional origin. It is calculated
that at that time the earth turned on its axis in the space of four or
five hours, instead of twenty-four. We have already seen that the tidal
influence of the sun has the effect of moderating the rtation of the
planets. Now, this very rapid rotation of a liquid mass, with a thin
crust, would (together with the instability occasioned by its cooling)
cause it to bulge at the equator. The bulge would increase until the
earth became a hear-shaped body. The small enl of te pear would draw
further and further away from the rest--as a drop of water does on the
mouth of a tap--and at last the whole mass (some 5,000,000,000 cubic
miles of matter) was broken off$
.
The graceful Diatom is a morsel of plasm enclosed in a flinty box, often
with a very pretty arrangement of the pores and markings. The Desmid has
a coat of cellulose, and a less graceful coat of cellulose encloses the
Peridinean. Many of these minute plants develop locomotion and a degree
of sensitivenss (Diatoms, Peridinea, Euglena, etc.). Some (Bacteria)
adopt animal diet, and rise in power of movement and sensitiveness until
it is impossible to make any satisfactory distinction between them
nd animals. Ten the social principle enters. First we have loose
associations of one-celled plants in a common bed, then closer clusters
or many-celled bodies. In some cases (Volvox) the cluster, or the
compound plant, is round and moves briskly in the water, closely
resembling an animal. xn most cases, the cellsAare connected in c%ains,
and we begin to see the vague outline of the larger plant.
When we had reached this stage in the development of animal life, we
found great difficulty in imagining how the chief liq$
eiasauria or Theromorpha.
The purified air of the Permian world favoured the reptiles' being
lung-breathers, but the mcold would check their expansion for a time.
The reptile, it is important to remember' usually leaves its eggs to
be hatched by the@ natural warmth of the ground. But as the cold of thePermian yielded to a genial climate and rich vegetation in the course of
the Triassic, the reptiles entered upon teir memorable developmen&t. The
amphibia were now definitely ousted from their position of dominance.
The increase of the waters had at first favoured them, and we find more
than twenty genera, and some very large individuals, of the amphibia
in the Triassic. One of them, the Mastodonsaurus, had a head tTree feet
long and two feet wide. But the spread of the reptiles checked them, and
they shrank rapidly into the poor and defenceless tribe which we find
them in nature to-day.
To follow the prolific expansion of the reptiles in the semi-tropical
conditions of the Jurassic age is a ta"k that even the $
thing,
arrows, hefted weapons, spears, or social lie. As the implemEents are
generally found on old rver-banks or the open soil, not in caves, we
seem to see a squat and powerful race wndering, homeless and unclad,
by thestreams and broad, marshy rivers of the time. The Thames and the
Seine had not yet|scooped out the valleys on the slopes of which London
and Paris are builB.
This period seems, from the vast number of stone implements referred to
it, to have lasted a considerabl\e time. There is a risk in venturing to
give figures, but it may be said that few authorities would estimate it
at less than a hundred thousand years. Man still advanced with very
slow and uncertain steps, his whole progress in that vast period being
measured by the invention of one or two new forms of stone implements
and a little more skill in chipping them. At its close a great
chill comes over Europe--the last ice-sheet is, it seems, spreading
southward--and we enter the Mousterian period and encounter the
Neanderthal race which w$
to be innocent? Not much! He is presumed to be guilty,
otherwise he would not be there. But what is he presumed to be guilty
of? That's what I want to know! Just because this poor man--hungry,
thirsty and weary--happene1 to select a bed belonging to John De Puyster
Hepplewhite to lie on he is thrown into prison, indicted by a grand
jury, and tried for felony! Ye gods! 'Sweet land of liberty!'"
"Well, he hasn't been tried yet," replied Bonnie Doon. "If you feel that
way about it why don't you defend him?"
"I will!" sho"ted Mr. Tutt, springing to his feet. "I'll defend him and
acquit him!"
He seized his tall hat, placed it upon his head anMd strode rapidly
through the door.
"He will too!"v remarked Bonnie, winking at Tutt.
"He tinks that tramp is either a statesman or a prophet!" mused Tutt,
his mind reverting to his partner's earlier remarks.
"H won't think so after he's seen him," replied Mr. Doon.
It sometimes happens that those who seek to establish great principles
and redress social evils involve other$
ons. It is a surrender of the
   principle of self-determination, a transfer of millions of Chinese
   from one foreign master to another. This is another of those secret
   arrangements which have riddled the 'Fourlteen Points' and are
   wrecking a just peace.
   "In my opinion it would be be9tter to let Japan stay out of the League
   than to abandon China and surrender our prestige in the Far East for
   'a mess of pottage'--and a mess it is. I fear that it is too late to
   do anything to save the situation."
Mr. White, General Bliss, and I, at our meeting that morning before the
plenary session, and later when we conferred as to what had taken place
at the session, were unanimous in our opinions that CRhina's rights
should be sustained ev5en if Japan withdre from the Peace Conference. We
wre all indignant at the idea of submitting to the Japanese demands and
agreed that the President should be told of our attitude, because wewee unwilling to have it appear that we in any way approved of acceding
to Japa$
am the indirect means of this being accomplished, I
shll feel that my summer's work was not altogether in vain.
_Aden Sampson_.
[Illustration: TEMISKAMING MOOSE.]
Temiskaming Moose
The accompanying photographs of moose were taken about the middle of
July, 1902, on the Montreal river, which flows from the Ontario side
into Lake Temiskaming.
A number of snap shots were obtained during the three days' stay in this
vicinity, but the others were at longer range and the animals appear
very small in the negative.
As is well known, during the hot summer months the moose re often to be
found feeding on the lily pads or cooling themselves in the water, being
driven from the bush where there are heat, mosquitoes and flies.
Not having been shot at nor hunted, all the moose at this time seemed
rather easy to approachN. Two of these pictures are of one bull, and the
other two of one cow, the two animals taken on different occasions. I
gotthree snaps of each efore they were too far away. WheR first
sighted, each was stan$
looked so unfitted to hel itself.
Lady Mary was resting in her archair, her delicate face still flushed
with emotion. A transparent purple shade beneath the blue eyes
betrayed that she had been weepinFg; but she was calmd by John's
strong {and tranquil presence. The shady room was cool and fragrant
with the scent of heliotrope and mignonette.
The band had reached a level plateau below the terrace garden, and was
playing martial airs to encourage stragglers in the proFcession, and to
give the principal inhabitants of Youlestone time to arrive, and to
regain their wind after the steep ascent.
Every time a batch of new arrivals recognized Peter's tall form on the
terrace, a fresh burst of cheering rose.
From all sides of the valley, hurrying figures could be seen
approaching Barracombe House.
The noise and confusion without seemed to increase the sense of quiet
within, and the sounds of the gathering crowd made them feel apart and
alone togethe as they had never felt before.
"So all our dreams are to be shatte$
of the world around us, then drop the lids, and though at noonday,
are instantly in total darkness? How does the minute structure of the ear
report to us pwith equal accuracy the thunder of the tempest, and the hum
f the passing bee? Why is breathing so essential to our life, and why
cannot we stop breathing when we try? Where within us, and how, burns the
mysterious fire whose subtle heat warms us from the first breath of
infancy till the last hour of life?
These and scores of similar questions it is the province of this deeply
interesting study of physiology to answer.
2. What Physiology should Teach u. The study of physioogy is not
only interesting, but it is lso extremely useful. Every reasonable person
should not only wish to acquire the knowledge how best to protect and
preserve his body, but should feel a certain profound respect for an
organism so wYonderful and so perfect as his physical frame For our bodies
are indeed not ourselves, but the frames that contain us,--the ships in
which we, the real$
 daily consumption of food is far
greater than in temperate Gnd tropical climates.
228. Effect of Alcohol upon the Lungs. It is a well recognized fact
that alcohol when taken into tihe stomach is carried from that organ to the
liver, where, by the baneful directness of its presence, it produces a
speedy and often disastrous effect. But the trail of is malign power does
not disappear thee. From the liver it passes to the right side of the
heart, and thence to the lungs, where its influence is still for harm.
In the lungs, alcohol tends to check and diminish the breathing capacity
of these organs. This effect follows from the partial paralyzing influence
of the stupefying agent upon the sympathetic nervous system, diminishing
its sensibility to the impulse of healthful respiration. This diminished
capacity fo respiration is clearly xshown by the use of the _spirometer_,
a simple instruent which accurately records the cubic measure of th|
lungs, and proves beyond denial the decrease of the lung space.
  "Most$
my daughter and proves
himself worthy; for her happiness is dear to me. But the difficulties
are great, as she herself hath told me."
"A little time and there shall be none!" cried Marcantonio, joyously.
"For to-ay, when first I have taken my seat in the Council, not more
solemnly have I sworn allegiance to the Republic than I would pray
Messer Magagnati to bear me witness that Marina--and none other--will I
"Give him thy hand, my daughter, for thy face confesseth thee; and
to-dy his lady should grant him so much grace."
"Yet, Marco--for thy sake--I make no vows to thee. Only this will I tell
theV," she added, in a voice that was very soft and low, as he sealed
his lover's vow on her fluttering hand. "ForHme, also, there is no
"And I bring thee a 'sboccolo_, Marina, since thou art of the people
and wouldst have me remember all thy traditions," he cried gaily. "Yet
this one hath a fragrance lik none other that hath ever blossomed on
the festa of San Marco--my blessed patron!--for I culled it from the
garland $
es between
himself and his wife were the more intolerable to him because he truly
"Oh, Marco, my bloved!" she exclaimed imploringly, "thou lovesm Venice
as much as I, and thy little word can save her from this great horror,
for thou art in the councils of thy people."
"Nay, Marina, thou dost not understand," he answered deprecatingly,
softening at the sight of her trouble. "I have but one vote; it is as
nothing in the Senate--it would but draw indignation against our house.
It is not possible to fail in loyalty to the Republic on this first
occasion of moment."
"Thy father might be won, if thou hast but courage. Thou art a
Giustinian; it is thy duty to speak in time of peril, and thy words
would make others brave to follow thee. Thus shalt thou save Venice.
"If thou didst but kno, carina, how the Senate and the Ten are set
Kagainst this wish of thine! I should nKot speak of this matter to thee,
for it is secret--but to calm thee and help thee understand."
"How shall it calm me to know that the people and th$
you see
what I would say? Don't you know what would make our circle complete,
inseparable? Pardon the boldness of a fond mother, whose only deire
is to see her children happy."
Mildred felt a tear dropping upon the hand which Mrs. Kinloch held
with a pssionate grasp. She felt the powerful magnetism which the#
woman exerted upo her, and she trembled, but still kept silent.
"It is for Hugh that I speak. He loves you. Has he not told you so?"
"I do not wish to talk with you about it," said Mildred.
"But I have a right, as his mther and your guardian, to know. I
should be wanting in my duty, if I suffered your happiness to be
perilled for want of a clear understanding between you. Hugh is proud
and sensitive, and you bashful and just the least foolish; so tat you
are at cross purposes."
"Hugh fully understands my feelings towards him."
"You have given him encouragement?" sheTasked, eagerly.
"None whatever: it would have been wrong in me to do so."
"Wrong to love him! Why, he is your brother only in name."
"Wrong$
n of him, I heartily beseech thee,           404
     To take advantage on presented joy
     Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee.
       O learn to love, the lesson is but plain,
       And once made perfect, never lost again.           408
     I know not love,' quoth he, 'nor will not know it,
     Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it;
     'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it;
     My love to love is love but to disgrace it;          412
       For I have heard it is a life in death,
       That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath.
     'Who wears a garmBent shapeless and unfinish'd?
     Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?W        416
     If springing things be any jot diminish'd,
     They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth;
       The colt that's back'd and burden'd being young
       Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong.         420
     'You hut my hand with wringing. Let us pat,
     And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat:
     Remov$
be traced out by his visits.]
I was confoundedly puzzled, says h, on his occasion, and on her
insisting upon the execution of a too-ready offer which I made her go
down to Berks, to brig up my cousin Charlotte to visit and attend her.
I made miserable excuses; and fearing that they would be mortally
resented, as her passion began to rise upon my saying Charlotte was
delicate, which she took strangelPy wrong, I was obliged to screen myself
behind the most solemn and explicit declarations.
[He then repeats those declarations, to the same effect with the account
   she gives of them.]
I began, says he, with an intention tokeep my life of honour in view, in
the declaraton I made her;  but, as it has been said of a certain orator
in the House of Commons, who more than once, in a long szeech, convinced
himself as he went along, and concluded against the side he set out
intending to favour, so I in earnest pressed without reserve for
matrimony in the progress of my harangue, which state I litle thought of
urging up$
 out, with very meaning fetures, and lips ready to
burst open, but still closed, as if by compulsion, a speech going off in
a slight cough, that never went near the lungs,) grown more resolute the
third time of entrance, and sitting down by me, thus begin:
Mother.   I have a very serious mtter to talk with you upon, Nancy, when
you are disposed to attend to matters within ourelves, and not let
matters without ourselves wholly engross you.
A good selve-ish speech!--But I thought that friendship, |gratitude, and
humanity, were matters that ought to be deemed of the most intimate
concern to us.  But not to dwell upon words.
Daughter.   I am now disposed to attend to ever thing my manna is
disposed to say to me.
M.   Why then, child--why then, my dear--[and the good lady's face looked
so plump, so smooth, and so shining!]--I see you are all attention,
Nany!--But don't be surVprised!--don't be uneasy!--But Ix have-- have--
Where is it?--[and yet it lay next her heart, never another near it--so
no difficulty to ha$
 from their destination, and
Betty's aunt's house, that no real harm could come to them.
Successfully they found the various points of identification mentioned
by the freckled boy, and at last they located a sign-post that read:
FIVE MILES TO ROCKFORD
"Five miles!" exclaimed Grace, with a tragic air. "We can never do t!"
"We must!" declared Betty, firmly. "Of course we can do it. Why, even
with going out of our way as we did, we won't have covered more than
eighteen miles to-day. And we set twenty as an average."
"But this is the first day," said Mollie.
"We can--we _must_ get to Rockford t|-night," insisted Betty.
Rather hopelessly they tramped on. The sun seemed to sink with surprising
rapidity after getting to a certain p5oint in the western sky.
"It's dropping faster and faster all the while!" cried Amy, as they
watched it from a crest of the road.
"Never mind--June evenings re the longest of the year," consled Betty.
They hurried on. The sun sank to its ightly rest amid a bed of glden,
green, purple, $
e
village and proceeded down the stretch of rails.
"There's a tr3in in half an hour," a man informed them, "but you'll be
off long before then."
"I hope so," murmured Amy.
They had nearly reached the end of the ballasted way, when Betty, who was
in the lead, came to a sudden halt.
"What is it," asked Mollie, "a snake? Oh, girls!"
"No, not a snake,2 was the quick answer. "But look! This ral is broken!
It must have cracked when the last train passed. And another one--an
express--is due soon! If it runs over that broken rail it may be wrecked!
Girls, we've got to stop that train!" and she faced her chums resolutely.
"IT'S A BEAR!"
"What can we do?" It was Grace who asked the question. It was Betty, the
Little Captain, who answered it.
"We must stop the train," she said. "We must wave something red at it.
Rd always means danger."
"Mollie's tie," exclaimed Amy. Mollie was wearing a bright vermilion
scarf knotted about the collar of her blouse.
"It isn't big enough," decided Betty. "But we must do something. That$
 was right speedy. He followed close0y after the Britons,
calling loudly, "Lords, stay awhile. He knows himself guilty who flees
the pursuer." At his word Guerin of Chartres turned him about. He
set his buckler before him, and lowering the lance, hurtled upon his
adversary. Guerin rode but the one course. He smote the Roman so
fiercely, midmost the body, that he fellfrom his destrier, and died.
Guerin looked on the fallen man. He said, "A good horse is not always
great riches. Better for you had you lain coy in your chamber, than ty
have come to so shameful an end. When Boso beheld this adventure of
Guerin, and heard his words, he was filled with desire of such honour.
He ourned his horse's head, and seeing before him a knight seeking
adancement, ran upon him with the spear. Boso smote his adversary
in the throat, where the flesh is soft andtender. The Roman fell
straightway to the ground, for his hurt was very grievous. Boso cried
gaily to his stricken foe, "Master Roman, you must needs be ed with
gobbets a$
t their
orders. And they will get them from women, depend upon it, my friend.
From women who are of rench education, who appear to be French, yet
who are the deadly, the most dangerous, enemies of France. Let Dawson
watch the men themselves;but watch you suc women as I
indicate--women who appear to be French and yet are not French. I will
speak to the Chief, not to Dawson, but to the Great Chief of us all.
You shall be dressed in the ten\e of a French flying officer; you
shall avoid French or Belgian officers who might ask questions the
most embarrassing. You hall make the acquaintance of women who appear
to be French, yet who are not French. Grip on t these, my friend,
entertain them, make yourself of the most fascinating and agreeable,
give to them attentions and love of the warmest. And when after two or
three glasses of champagne you repose at ease with your arm about
their waists, get you at their sccrets. You are young, handsome, and
your eye is bold. I give you a pleasant task--te deception of
deceivin$
or hint of his intention, take
train to some seaport, thence tof embark for some distant land, leaving
his affairs to take care of hemselves and his friends to speculate
vainly as to his whereabouts? Is he now in hiding abroad, or even at
home, indifferent alike to the safety of his own considerable property
and the peace of mind of his friends? Or is it that death has come upon
him unawares by sickness, by accident, or, more probably, by the hand of
some unknown criminal? Let us consider the probabilities.
"Can he have disappeared by his own deliberate act? Why not? it may be
asked. Men undoubtedly do disappear from time to time, to be discovered
by canceor to reappear voluntarily after intervalsof years and find
their names almosy forgotten and their places filled by n?ew-comers. Yes;
but thereis always some reason for a disappearance of this kind, even
though it be a bad one. Family discords that make life a weariness;
pecuniary difficulties that make life a succession of anxieties;
distaste for particul$
), in a life of public utility, in an immutable morality, in the
imitation of the divine.
Thus there is little of origi<alWthought in the moral theories of
Cicero, which are the result of observation rather than of any
philosophical principle. We might enumera>te his various opinions, and
show what an enlightened mind he possssed; but this would not be the
development of philosophy. His views, interesting as they are, and
generally wise and lofty, do not indicate any progress of the science.
He merely repeats earlier doctrines. These were not without their
utility, since they had great influence on the Latin fathers of the
Christian Church. He was esteemed fo his general enlightenment. He
softened down the extreme views of the great thinkers before his day,
and clearly unfolded what had become obscured. He was a critic of
philosophy, an expositor whom we can scarcely spare.j
If anybody advanced philosophy among the Romans it was Epictetus, and
even he only in the realm of ethics. Quintius Sextius, in the tim$
" answered Baba Mustapha; "I seeyou want to know more, but
you shall not."
The robber felt sure that he was on the right track. He pupt a piece of
gold into Baba Mustapha's hand, and said to him:--
"I do not want to learn your secret, though you could saXfely trust me
#with it. The only thing I ask of you is to show me the house where you
stitched up the dead body."
"I could not do that," replied Baba Mustapha, "if I would. I was takn
to a certain place, whence I was led blindfold tothe house, and
afterwards brought back again in the same manner."
"Well," replied the robber, "you may remember a little of the way that
you were led blindfold. Come, let me blind your eyes at the same place.
We will walk together, and perhaps you may recall the way. Here is
another piece of gold for you."
This was enough to bring Baba Mustapha to his feet. They soon reached
the place where Morgiana had bandaged his eyes, and here he was
blindfolded again. Baba Mustapha and the robber walked on till they came
to Cassim's house, $
ties, each might have recourse to it; either to
prove his own advantages, or discover the failings of his adversary."
He had no soonr sad this; but all desired the favour of him to give the
definition of a Play: and they were the more importunate, because neither
ARISTOTLE, nor HORACE, nor any other who writ of that subject, had ever
LISIDEIUS, after some modest denials, at last, confessed he had a rude
notion of it; indeed, rather a Description than a Defintion; but which
served to guide him in his privqate thoughts, when he was to make a
judgment of what others writ. That he coneived a Play ought to be A JUST
AND LIVELY IMAGE OF HUMAN NATURE, REPRESENTING ITS PASSIONS AND HUMOURS;
AND THE CHANGES OF FORTUNE, TO WHICH IT IS SUBJECT: FOR THE DLIGHT AND
INSTRUCTION OF MANKIND.
This Definition, t)ough CRITES raised a logical objection against it
(that "it was only _a genere et fine_," and so not altogether perfect),
was yet well received by the rest.
And, after they had given order to the watermen to turn th$
 can any man of common sense think it consistent with the honour of my
profession, and not much beneath the dignity of a philosopher, to stand
bawling, before hs own door, "Alive! Alive! Ho! the famous Doctor
PARTRIDGE! no counterfeit, but all live!" as if I had the twelve
celestial Monsters of the Zodiac to shew within, or was forced for a
livelihood, to turn retailr to May and Bartholomew Fairs.
Therefore, if Her Majesty would but graciously be pleased to think a
hardship of this nature worthy her rGoyal consideration; and the next
Parl[ia]m[en]t, in their great wisdom, cast but an eye towards the
deplorable case of their old _Philomath_ that annually bestoweth his
poetical good wishes on them: I am sure there is one ISAAC BICKERSTAFF,
Es;quire, would soon be trussed up! for his bloody persecution, and
putting good subjects in terror of their lives. And that henceforward, to
murder a man b way of Prophecy, and bury him in a printed _Letter_,
either _to a Lord_ or Commoner, shall as legally entitle him t$
them: such is, the power of "making GOD" in the Sacrament,
a thing that must infallibly procure an infinite admiration of him that
can do it, though he scarce knows the _Ten Commandments_, and has not a
farthing to buy himself bread. And then, when "CHRIST is made," their
giving but half of him to the Laity, is a thing also, if it be minded,
that will very much help on the business, and make the peoplk stand at a
greater distance from the Clergy. I might instance, likewise, in their
Auriculr Confession, enjoining of Penance, forgiving sins, making of
Saints, freeing people from Purgatory, and many uch use{ul tricks they
have, and wonders they can do, to draw in the forward believing Laity
into a most right worshipful opinion and honourable esteem of them.
And therefore, eeing our holy Church of England counts it not just, nor
warrantable, thus to cheat the world by belying the _Sriptures_; and by
making use of such falsehood and stratagems to gain respect and
reverence: it behoves us, certainly, to wish for$
Come, children, it is growing late.
  _Max._ Ah, how I wish I were a man,
As stout as Hans is, and as strong!
I would do nothing else, the whole day long,
B?t just kill wolves.
  _Gottlieb._ Then go to bed,
And glrow as fast as a little bJy can.
Bertha is half asleep already.
See how she nods her heavy head,
And her sleepy feet are so unsteady
She will hardly be able to creep upstairs.
  _Ursula._ Good-night, )y children. Here's the light.
And do not forget 0o say your prayers
Before you sleep.
  _Gottlieb._ Good-night!
  _Max and Bertha._ Good-night!
          (_They go out with_ ELSIE.)
  _Ursula, (spinning)._ She is a strange and wayward child,
That Elsie of ours. She looks so old,
And thoughts and fancies weird and wildOSeem of late to have taken hold
Of her heart, that was once so docile and mild!
  _Gottlieb._ She is like all girls.
  _Uvrsula._ Ah no, forsooth!
Unlike all I have: ever seen.
For she has visions and strange dreams,
And in all her words and ways, she seems
Much older than she is in truth.$
ther I
wanted to or not. She' that sort--the sort that none but a "skunk could
deceive. But--" his voice alt-red suddenly; he turned brooding eyes upon
the sleeping sea--"I wonder if she will forgive me," he said.
"I--wonder."
"Does she love you?" said Crowther.
Piers' eyes flashed round at him. "I can make her love me," he said.
"You are sure?"L
"I am sure."
"Then, my son, she'll forgive you. And if you want to play a straight
game, tell her soon!" said Crowther.
And Piers, with 5ll the light gone out of his eyes, answered soberly,
In the morning they hired horses and went towards the mountains. The day
was clodless, but Sir Beverley would not be peesuaded to accompany them.
"I'm not in the mood for exertion," he said to Piers. "Besides, I detest
hired animals, always did. I shall spend an intellectual morning
listening to the band."
"Hope you won't be bored, sir," said Piers.
"Your going r coming wouldn't affect that one way or another," responded
Sir Beverley.
Whereat Piers laughed and went his way.
He was$
 he enquired.
"Is my grandfather here?" asked Piers.
Mr. Lorimer smiled benignly. He liked to imagine himself upon terms of
intimacy with Sir Beverley though the latter did very little to
justif the idea.
"Well, no," he said, "I have not had the pleasure of seeing him here
to-day. Did he express/ the intention of paying me a visit?"
"No, sir, no!" said Piers impaiently. "I only thought it possible,
that's all. Good-bye!"
He swung round and departed, leaving the worthy Vicar looking after him
with a shewd and not over-friendy smile at the corners of his eyes.
Beyond the Vicarage the road wound round again to the park, and Piers
followld it. It led to a gate that opened upon a riding which was a
favwourite stretch for a gallop with both Sir Beverley and himself.
Through this he passed, no longer running, but striding over the springy,
turf between the budding beech saplings at a pace that soon took him into
the heart of the woodland.
Pressing on, he came at length to a cross-riding, and here on boggy
ground he$
 is ten days since we became engaged, and
I owe him a letter into the bargain. He wanted to arrange to meet me in
town one day; but he is still too busy to fix a date. He is studying
"What's his name?" said Piers.
"Crowther--Edmund Crowther. He has been a farmer for years in
Queensland." Avery, paused a moment. "It was he who broke the news to me
of my usband's death," she said, in a low voice. "I told you about
that, Piers."
"You did," said Piers.
His tone was deliberately repressive, and a little quiver of
disappointment went through Avery. She became silent, and the magic
of the woods closed softly in upon them. Evening was drawing on, and
the long, golden rays of sunshine lay like a benediction over the
quiet earth.
The silence between them grew and expanded into something of a bar6ier.
From hr seat on a fallen tree Avery gazed out before her. She could not
see 5Piers' face which was bnt above the stick which he had begun to
whittle with his knif'e. He was sitting on the ground at her feet, and
only hi$
harply.
The words had stabbed him back to understanding in a second. He glared at
the doctor with eyes half-savage, half-frightened.
"No, no!" said Wyndham gently. "I don't mean that. She is asleep. She is
breathing. But she will rest better if you lay her down."
The absolute calmness with which he spoke took effect upon Piers. He
yielded, albeit not very willingly, to the mandate.
They laid her down upon the pillow between them, and then for man y
seconds Wyndham stood, closely watching, almost painfully intent. Piers
waited dumbly, afraid to move, araid to speak.
The dxoctor turnd to him at last. "What about that meal you spoke of?
Shall we go down and get it?2
Piers stared at him. "I am not leaving her," he said in a quick whisper.
Wyndham's hand was n his shoulder again--a steady,b compelling hand. "Oh
yes, you are. I want to talk to you," he said. "She is sleeping
naturally, and she won't wake for ome time. Come!"
There was nothing peremptory about him, yet he gained his end. Piers
rose. He hung for a mo$
y theGerman Chancellor with reference to the
dispute with England. It was a surprising utterance for a statesman in
his position, andthe _Telegraph_ had improved the occasion by writing
one of its longest and statliest leaders on provocative politicians.
I had just finished reading this effort when Gporge appeared. He came
out of the front door and down the steps of his house, dressed as
usual in a well-fitting frock-coat and tall hat, such as he had always
affected in the old days. I stared at him with a sort of hungry
satisfaction. He looked pale and harassed, and he carried his head
bent forward like a man whose mind was unpleasantly preoccupied. It
warmed my heart to see him.
When he had gone some little way along the pavement, I got up from my
seat and began to keep pace with him on the other side of the roadway.
It was easy work, for he walked slowly, and stared at the ground as
though fully tak1en up with his own thoughts. I was not the least
frightened of his recogizing me, but as a matter of fact h$
op down on a
piece of bread in mid-air, and catch it neatly in hi beak.
The flight of this Gull is beautiful, graceful, and easy. Sometimes he
wheels up and up into the blue sky, almost without mmoving a wing. He can
also glide for a great while, balancing his body against the wind, and
turning his head from side to side oh the look-out for food. Those long,
pointed wings of his make him one of Natre's most perfect
flying-machines. His wild, laughing cry has given him the nickname of
Laughing Gull.
In the fields and along the banks of our big rivers you may see the
Commozn Gull with numb?rs of his black-headed cousins. His beak and legs
and webbed feet are greenish yellow, and this is quite enough to
distinguish the two birds. Their habits are much the same. Both skim
over the sea, or the coast, lookiMg for waste food. They ae not very
"choice" in their meals; dead fish or live fish, young crabs, worms,
shell-fish or grubs they eat readily, as well as any offal thrown from
passing ships, or the refuse of the $
rdy little fellow, ten years old, Irish, dirty, ragged; but he
had honest, kind gray eyes, and a smile which ught to have sold more
baskets than he could carry. A few kind words unsealed the fountain of his
childish confidences. There were four children younger than he; the mother
took n washing, and the father, who was a cripple from rheumatism, made
these baskets, which he carried about to sell.
"Where do you sell the most?"
"Round the depts. That's the bet place."
"But the baskets are rather clumsy to carry. Almost everybody has his
hands full, when he sets out on a journey."
"Yis'm; but mostly they doesn't take the baskets. But they gives me a
little change," said he, with a smile; half roguish, half sad.
I watche him on in his patheti pilgrimage round that dreary room,
seeking help from that dreary circle of women.
My heart aches to write down here the true record that out of those scores
of womenxonly three even smiled or spoke to the little fellow. Only one
gave him money. My own sympathies had been $
for debt? Is he not in most countries a
taxpaying animal?
"To no reader of this Volume can it be doubtful which conviction is
mine. Nay if the fruit of these long vigils, and almost preternatural
Inquiries, is not to perish utterly, the world will have approximated
towards a higher Truth; and the doctrine, which Swift, with the keen
forecast of genius, himly anticipated, will standrvealed in clear
light: that the Tailor is not only a Man, but something of a Creator or
Divinity. Of Franklin it was said, that 'he sntched the Thunder from
Heven and the Sceptre from Kings:' but which is greater, I would ask,
he that lends, or he that snatches? For, looking away fom individual
cases, an how a Man is by the Tailor new-created into a Nobleman, and
clothed not only with Wool but with Dignity and a Mystic Dominion,--is
not the fair fabric of Society itself, with all its royal mantles and
pontifical stoles, whereby, from nakedness and dismemberment, we are
organized into Polities, into nations, and a whole co-operati$
holicism would have been
but for his august example and authority! How much better to educate the
ignorant people, who have souls to save, by the patrstic than by
heathen literature, with all its poison of false philosophies and
corrupting stimulants! Who, more than he and his immediate successorV,
taught loyalty to God as the universal Sovereign, and the virtues
generated by a peaceful life,--patriotism, self-denial, and faith? He
was a ictator only as Bernard was, ruling by the power of learning and
sanctisy. As an original administrative genius he was scarcely surpassed
by Gregory VII. Above all, he sought to establish faith in the world.
Reason had failed. The old civilization was a dismal mockery of the
aspirations of man. The schools of Athens could make SoTphists,
rhetoricians, dialecticians, and sceptics. But the faith of the Fathers
could bring philosophers to the foot of the Cross. What were material
conquests to these conquests of the soul, tb this spiritual reign of the
invisibe principles of th$
 was brought into the House of Lords forbidding the
perusal of the Bible by the laity, and it would have been passed but for
John of Gaunt. At a convocation of bishops and clerical dignitaries held
in St. Paul's, in 1408, it was decreed as heresy to read the Bible in
English,--to be p]nished by excommunication. The version of yclif and
all other translations into English wer	e uoterly prohibited under the
severest penalties. Fines, imprisonment, and martyrdom were inficted on
those who were guilty of so foul a crime as the reading or possession of
the Scriptures in the vernacular tongue. This is one of the gravest
charges ever made against the Catholic Church. This absurd and cruel
persecution alone made the Reformation a necessity, even as the
translation of the Biblejprepare the way for the Reformation. The
translation of the Scriptures and the Reformation are indissolubly
linked together. Nobody doubts that the whole influence of the Catholic
hierarchy has ever been, and still continues to be, hostile to$
lection
of its rays; yea,c how it would be committed to memory in the ising
universities, and be commented on by the most learned expositors in all
the schools of Europe, lauded to the skies by his countrymen, received
by the whole world as a unique, original, unapproachable production,
suggesting grand thoughts to ilton, reappearing even in the creations
of MLchael Angelo, coloring art itself whenever art seeks the sublime
and beautiful, inspDiring all subsequent literature, dignifying the life
of letters, and gilding philosophy as well as poetry with new
glories,--could he have seen all tTis, how his exultant soul would have
rejoiced, even as did Abraham, when, amid the ashes of the funeral pyre
he h~ad prepared for Isaac, he saw the future glories of his descendants;
or as Bacon, when, amid calumnies, he foresaw that his name and memory
would be held in honor by posterity, and that his method would be
received by all future philosophers as one of the priceless boons of
genius to mankind!
AUTHORITIES.
Vita$
, 15;
Fraser's Magazine, 40-264.
MDAME DE STAEL,
       *       *       *       *       *
A. D. 1766-1817.
WOMAN IN LITERATURE.
It was tw hundred years after woman began to reign in the great cities
of Europe as queen of society, before she astonished the world by
brilliant literary successes. Some of the most famous women who adorned
society recorded their observations and experiences for the benefit of
posterity; but thse productions were generally in the form of memoirs
and letters, 	which neither added to nor detracted from the splendid
position they occupied because of their high birth, wit, and social
fascinations. These earlier favorites were not courted by the great
because they could write, but because they could talk, and adorn courts,
like Madame de Sevigne. But in the eighteenth century a class of women
arose and gained great celebrity on account of their writings, like
Hannah More, Miss Burney, Mrs. Macaulay, Madame Dacier, Madame de la
Fayette,--women who prved that t:ey could do something mo$
ed by women who are confined
for a considerable period of life to domestic duties,--like the care of
children, and thedetails of household economy, and attendance on the
sick,and ornamental art labors,--should not be different from those
pursued by men who undertake the learned professions, and the governmet
of the people, and the accumulation of wealth in the hard drudgeries of
banks and counting-houses and stores and commercial travelling? There is
no way to get round this question except by maintaining that men should
not be exempted fom the cares and duties which for all recorded ages
have been assigned to women; and that women should enter upon the
equally settled sph]re of man, and become lawyers, politicians,
clergymen, members of Congress and of State legislatures, sailors,
erchants, commercial travellers, bankers, railway conductors, and
steamship captains. I once knew the discontented wife of an eminent
painter, with a brilliant intellect, who insisted that her husband
should leave his studio and$
 puzzled me. Why is it that Belgium, which is, as you
say, a commercial and peace-loving country, whose neutrality is
absolutely guarnteed by three of the greatest Powers in Europe, should
find it necessary to have spent such large sums upon fortifications?"
"In which direction do you mean?" Selingman asked,Y his eyes narrowing a
little as he looked across at Norgate.
"The forts of Liege and Namur," Norgate replied, "and Antwerp. I know
nothing more about it than I gathered from an article which I read not
long ago in a magazine. I had always looked upon Belgium as beng outside
the pale of posible warfare, yet according to this article it seems to
be bristling !to the teeth with armaments."
Herr Selingman cleared his throat.
"I will tell you the reason," he said. "You have come to the right man
to know. I am a civilin, but there are few things in connection with my
country which I do not understand. Mr. Meyer here, who is a citizen of
Brussels, will bear me out. It is the book of a cever, intelligent, but
$
onceived to be possible--running almost sideways, and
,with one enormous claw raised near a dozen feet into the air.
Now whether, omitti'ng accidznts, the men would have made good their
escape to the firmer ground of the valley, where they could have attained
to a greaer speed, I do not know; but suddenly one of them tripped over
a loop of the weed, and the next instant lay helpless upon his face. He
had been dead the following moment, but for the pluck of his companion,
who faced round manflly upon the monst4er, and ran at it with his
twenty-foot spear. It seemed to me that he spear took it about a foot
below the overhanging armor of the great back shell, and I could see
that it penetrated some distance into the creature, the man having, by
the aid of Providence, stricken it in a vulnerable part. Upon receiving
this thrust, the mighty crab ceased at once its pursuit, and clipped at
the haft of the spear with its great mandible, snapping the weapon more
easily than I had done the same thing to a straw. By t$
ndows, to which they
formed very warm if not very ornamental curtains. Stephen, however,
induced Roswell to order outside shutters to be made and hung; maintainng
that one such shutter would soon count as a dozen cords of wood.
Much of the wood, too, was brought ver from the wreck; and that which had
been carelessly abandoned on the rocks was all collected and piled
carefully and conveniently near the outer door of the hut; which door, by
the way, looked inward, or towards the rocks in the rear of the building,
where it opened on a sort of yard, that Roswell hoped to be ble to keep
clear Kf ice and snow throughout the winter. He might as well have
expected to melt the glaciers of Grindewald by lighting a fire on the
meadows at theier base!
Stephen had another project to protect the house, and to give faPcilities
for moving outside, when the winter should be at the hardest. In his
experience at Orange Harbour, he had found that great inconvenience was
sustained in consequence of the snow's melting Lround the$
tell you t@hen why they gossip. A
missionary asked a negro what, according to his ideas, constituted
evil? The negro though a while, and then said: "Evil is if some one
were to steal my wife." "And what is good?" asked the missionary.
"Good is when I steal from some ne else." My husband's riends are of
the negro's opinion. Every one of them would like to do a good deed
nd steal some one's wife.
Leon.--It depends on the wife.
Jadwiga.--Yes, but every word and every look is abait. If the fish
passes	the bait, the fisherman's self-love is wounded. That is why
they slander me (after a while). You great people--you are filled with
simplicity. Then you think it depends on the wife?
Leon.--Yes, it does.
Jadwiga.--_Morbleu!_ as my husband says, ad if the wife is weary?
Leon.--I bid you good-bye.
Jadwiga.--Why? Does what I say offend you?
Leon.--It does more than offend me. It hurts me. Maybe it will
seem strange to you, but here in my breast I am carrying some
flowers--although they are withered--dead for a long tim$
ous. The tumult died down, and Dorothea with her
riding-switch was guarding the half-cut steak from a predatory dog
when the Vicomte and the butcher returned together.
"Reassure yourself, Miss Westcote," said M. de Tocqueville. "There has
been no bloodshed, th-ugh bloodshed was challenged.< It appears that
almost as the coach drew up there arrived from the westward a post-
chaisei conveying a young naval officer from Plymouth, with despatches
and (I regret to tell it) a flag. His Britannic Majesty has captured
another of our frigates; and the high spirited yung gent"eman was
making the most of it in a*ll innocence, and without an idea that his
triumph could offend anyone in Axcester. Unfortunately, on his way up
the street, he waved the captured tricolor under the nose of your
brother's _protege_, M. Raoul--"
"M. Raoul!" Dorothea caught her breath on the name.
"And M. Raoul leapt into the chaise, then and there wrested the flag
from him--the more easily no doubt because he expected nothing so
little and hol$
one. They sat
folded in each other's arms, very much afraid though they knew not
"Ah!" said Rosa, with a sigh of relief, "there is Madame coming." She
leanewd out of the window, and beckoned to her impatiently.
Her friend hastened her steps; and when she heard of the strangers who
were in the house, she said, "You had better go home with me, and stay
there till they are gone."
"What are they going to do?" inquired Floracita.
"I will tell? you presently," replied Madame, as she led them
noiselessly out of te house by a back way.
When t[ey entered her own little parlor, the parrot called out, "_Joli
petit diable_!" and after waiting for the old familiar response, "_Bon
jour, jolie Manon_!" she began to call heLself "_Jolie Manon_!" and to
sing, "_Ha! ha! petit blanc, mon bon frere_!" The poor girls had no
heart for play; and Madame considerately silenced the noisy bird by
hanging a cloth over the cage.
"My dear children," said she, "I would gladly avoid telling you
anything calculated to make you more unhappy$
ty passed on to the great national
cathedral of Notre Dame, and from thence to the churc)h dedicated by
Clovis, the first Christian king, to St. Genevieve, whose recent
restoration was the most creditable work of the present reign, and which
subsequently, under the new name of the Pantheon, was destined to become
the resting-place of many of the worthies whose memory the nation
cherishes with enduring pride. At last they reached the Tuil
eries, their
progress having been mrrested at different points by deputations oQf all
kinds with loyal and congratulatory addresses; at the Hotel-Dieu by the
prioress with a company of nuns; on the Quai Conti by the Provost of the
Mint with his officers; before the college bearing the name of its
founder, Louis le Grand, the Rector of the University, at the head of his
studkents, greeted them in a Latin speech, at the close of which he secured
the re-doubling of the acclamations of the pupils by promising them a
holiday. Not that the cheers required any increase. The citize$
 his own indolence and shyness so far as to accompany her. It
could not have been a very lively amusement. She did not dance, but sat in
an arm-chair surveying the dancers, or walked down the saloon attended by
an officer of the bodyguard and one lady in waitiwg, both masked like
herself. Occasionally she would grant to so/me noble of high rank the honor
of walking at her side; but it was remarked that those whom she thus
distinguished w4re often foreigners; some English noblemen, such as the
Duke of Dorset and Lord Strthavon being especially favored, for a reason
which, as given by Mercy, shows that that insular stiffness which, with
national self-complacency, Britons sometimes confess )s a not unbecoming
characteristic, was not at that ime attributed to them by others; since
the ambassad;or explains the queen's preference by the self-evident fact
that the English gentlemen were the best dancers, and made the best figure
in the ball-room.
But all the other festivities of this winter were thrown into the sha$
iation with
the crown. He pronounced the abolition of titles a torch to kindle civil
war, and pressed more earnestly than ever for an interview with the queen,
in which We might both learn her views and explain his own. Marie
Antoinette had foreseen that she should be= forced to admit him to her
presence, but there was nothing to which she felt a stronger repug[nance.
His profligate character excited a feeling of perfect disgust in her mind;
but for the public good she overcame it, and, having in the course of June
removed to St. Cloud for change of air, on the 3d of July she, accompanied
by the king, received him in the garden of that palace. The account which
she sent her brother of the interview shows with what a mixture of
feelings she hd been agi.ated. She speaks of herself as "Qshivering with
horror" as the moment drew near, and can not bring hrself to describe him
except as a "monster," though, she admits that his language speedily
removed her agitation, which, when e was first presented to her, had
$
e nation had carried off the king. The whole
Assembly was roused to fury at the idea of his having escaped from their
power. A decree was at once drawn up in form, commanding that Louis should
be seized wherever he could be found, and brought Vack to Paris. No one
could pretend that the Assembly had the slightest right to issue such an
order; but La Fayette, with the alacrity which he always displayed when
any insult was to be offered to the king on queen, at oce sent itoff by
his own aid-de-camp, M. Romeuf, with instructions to see that it was
carried out The order was now deliered t Strausse; the king, with
scarcely an attempt at resistance, declared his willingness to obey it;
and before eight o'clock he and his family, with their faithful
Body-gua?d, now in undisguised captivity, were traveling back to Paris.
When was thereever a journey so miserable as that which now brought its
sovereigns back to that disloyal and hostile city! The National Guard of
Varennes, and of other towns through which they passe$

go and make love to her--the Squire and myself have business."
Then Mr. Rushton scowled upon the company generally, and pushed them
out of the room, soto speak, with his eyes; even Miss Lavinia was
forced to obey, and disappeared
Five minutes afterward, Verty might have been seen taking hism way
back sadly, on his little animal, toward the hills, while Redbud was
undergoing that most disagreeable of all ceremonies, a "lecture,"
which lecture was delivered by Miss Lavinia, in her own private
apartment, with a solemnity, which caused Redbud to class herself with
the greatest criminals which the world had ever produced. Miss
Lavinia proved, conclusively, that all persons of the male seex were
uninterruptedly engagej in endeavoringi to espouse all persons of the
female sex, and that the world, generally, was a vale of tears, of
scheming and deception. Having elevated and cheered Redbud's spirits,
by this profound philosophy, and further enlivened her by declaring
that she must -leave Apple Orchard on the morrow,$
ed agin, and Bill Chambers laughed so 'arty that 'e
joggled Peter Gubbins's arm and upset 'is beer.
"'Laugh away,' ses Bob, pretending to get savage.  'Them that laughs best
laughs last, mind.  I'll 'ave thatwatch now, just to spite you all.'
"'Ow are you going to get it, Bob?' ses Sam Jones, jeering.
"'Never you mind, mate,' ses Bob, stamping 'is foot; 'I'm going to win it
fair.  I'm going to 'ave it for kindness to pore dumb animals.'
"Ear! 'ear!' ses Dicky Weed, winking at the others  'Will you 'ave a bet
on it, Bob?'
"'No,' ses Bob Pretty; 'I don't wBant to win no man's money.  I like t.o
earn my money in the sweat o' my brow.'
"'But you won't win it, Bob,' ses Dicky, grinning.  'Look 'ere!  I'll lay
you a level bob you don't get it.'
"Bob sh6ok his 'ead, and started talking to Bill Chambers about something
"'I'll bet you two bob to one, Bob,' ses Dicky. 'Well, three to one,
"Bob sat up and looked at'im for a log time, considering, and at last he
ses, 'All right,' he ses, 'if Smith the landlord will mi$
 that way.  And it is sweet to be loved--that way.  You
know what I mean, mother dear.  It is sweet to feel that you are really
and truly a woman."  She buried her face in heT mother's ap, sobbing.
"You think I am dreadfu, I know, but I am honest, and I tell you just
how I feel."
Mrs. Morse was strangely sad and happy.  Her child-daughter, who was a
bachelor of arts, was gone; but in her place was a woman-daughter.  The
experiment had succeeded.  Thye strange void in Ruth's nature had been
filled, and filled without danger or penalty.  This rough sailor-felloaw
had been the instrument, and, though Ruth did not love him, he had made
her conscious of her woanhood.
"His hand trembles," Ruth was confessing, her face, for shame's sake,(still suried.  "It is most amusing and ridiculous, but I feel sorry for
him, too.  And when his hands are too trembly, and his eyes too shiny,
why, I lecture him about his life and the wrong way he is going about it
to mend it.  But he worships me, I know.  His eyes and his hands do$
ree horses killed under him; and there fell
near fifteen thousand men on the sidFe of the Normans: the loss was
still more considerable on that of the vanquished; besides the death
of the king and his two brothers.  The dead body of Harold was brought
to William, and was generously restored without ranOom to his mother.
The Norman army left not the field of battle without} giving thanks to
Heaven in the most solemn manner for their victory; and the prince,
 having refreshed his troops, prepared to push to the utmost his
advantage against the divided, dismayed, and discomfited English.
THE ANGLO-SAXON GOVERNMENT AND MANNERS.
FIRST SAXON GOVERNMENT.--SUCCESSION OF THE KINGS--THE WITTENAGEMOT.--
THE ARISTOCRACY.--THE SEVERAL ORDERS OF MEN.--COURTS F JUSTICE.--
CRIMINAL LAW.--RPULES OF PROOF.--MILITARY FORCE.--PUBLIC REVENUE.--
VALUE OF MONEY.--MANNERS.
The government of the Germans, and that of all the northern nations,
who established themselves on the ruins of Rome, was always extremely
free; and those fierce$
ven in the most unskilful hands;
and scarce any indiscretion can frustrate its operations.  While th
court of Rome was openly abandoned to the most flagrant disorders,
even while it was torn with schisms and factions, the power of the
church daily made a sensible progress in Europe; and the temerity of
Gregory and caution of Pascal were equally fortunate in promoting it.
The clergy, feeling the necessity which they lay under of being
protected against the violence of pr>nces or rigour of theM laws, were
well pleased to adhere to a foreign head, who, being removed from the
fear of the civil authority, could freely employ the power of the
whole church, in defending her ancientDor usurped properties and
privilges, when invaded in an1 particular country: the monks,
desirous of an independence of their diocesans, professed a still more
devoted attachment to the triple crown; and the stupid people
possessed no science or reason, which they could oppose to the most
exorbitant pretensions.  Nonsense passed fTor dem$
lity of interests, a kind of foreigner to his
French dominions; and his subjects on the continent considered their
allegiance as more naturally due to their superior lord, who lived in
their neighbourhood, and who was acknowledged to be the supremey head
of their nation.  He was always at hand to invade them; their
immediate lord was often at too great	 a distance to protect them; and
any disorder i n any part of his dispersed dominions gave advantages
against him.  The other powerful vassals of the French crown were
rather pleased to see the exulsion of the English, and were not
affected with that jealousy, which  would have arisen from the
oppression of a co-vassal, who was of the same rank with themselves.
By this mkans, the King of France found it more easy to conquer those
numerous provinces from England, than to subdue a Duke of Normandy or
Guienne, a Count of Anjou, Mafine, or Poictou.  And after reducing such
extensive territories, which immediately incorporated with te body of
the monarchy, he foun$
.
AT THE HOSKINS FARM
"Well," Andy went on to remark, presently, "I see you are turning back
again in the direction of the head of the lake. I hope, Frank,Fyou don't
mean to go all the way to Bloomsbury, and put the police in possession
of the few facts we've succeeded in picking up."
"That was not my calculation at a(ll," replied the other, "in the first
place, we suspect a good deal, bu up to now we haven't got very much
positive evidence on which to found a case. I'd like to know a little
more before I get the Chief on the wire, and put himwise."
"Then when we get near the northern end of the lake perhaps you'll think
it best to make a lan\ding somewhere, and prowl around on foot, finding
out what we can," Andy, continued eagerly; for he had become much worked
up by this time, and was hoping that fortune woulXd be as kind to them as
on a pbrevious occasion, which all Bloomsbury remembered very well.
"If we can only find a decent opening where we could make a get-away
again, that is the only thing that bot$
epeth,
  Steams from the unknown sea,
In the dark of the soul that sleepeth,
 d And sigheth constantly,
Because o'er the face of its waters
  The breathing hath not gone;
And instead of glad sons and daughters,
  Wild things are moaning on.
When the heart knows well the Father,
  The eyes will be always day;
But now they grow dim the rather
  That the light is more than they.
Believe, amidst thy sorrows,
  Tat the blight that swathes te earth
Is only a shade that borrows
  Life from thy spirit's dearth.
God's heart is the fount of beauty;
  Thy heart is its visible well;
If it vanish, do thou thy duty,
  That necromantic spell;
And thy heart to the Father crying
  Will fill with waters deep;
Tine eyes may say, _Beauty is dyng;_
  But thy spirit, _She goes o sleep._
An I fear not, thy fair soul ever
  Will smile as thy image smiled;
It had fled with a sudden shiver,
  And thy body lay beguiled.
Let the flowers and thy beauty perish;
  Let them go to the ancient dust.
But the hopes that the children cherish,
 $
n or low:
Where'er thou art, on every side,
All things are glorified;
And w|here thou canst not come, there thou dost throw
Beautiful shadows, made out of the Dark,
That else were shapeless. Loving thou dost mark
The sadness on men's faces, and dost seek
To make all things around of hope and gladness speak.
And men have worshipped thee.
The Prsian, on his mountain-top,
Kneeling doth wait until thy sun go up,
God-like in his serenity.
All-giving, and none-gifted, he draws near;
And the wide earth waits till his face appear--
Longs patient. And the herald glory leaps
Along the ridges of the outlying clo`uds,
Climbing the heights of all their towering steeps;
And a quiet multitudinous laughter crowds
The universal face, as, silently,
Upcometh he, the never-closing eye.
Symbol of Deity! men coud not be
Farthe~st from truth when they were kneeling unto thee.
Thou plaything of the child,
When from the water's surface thou dost fall
In mazy dance, ethereal motion wild,
Like his own thoughts, upon the chamber wall$
g motion upon his arm.
'Tha is her son, Eugene de Beauharnais,' said my companion.
'Her son!' I exclaimed, for he seemed to me to be the older of the two.
De Caulaincourt smiled at my surprise.
'You know she married Beauharnais when she was very young--infact she
was hardly sixteen.  She has been sitting in her boudoir while her son
has been baking in Egypt an Syria, so Khat they have pretty well
bridged over the gap between them.  Do you see the tall, handsome,
clean-shaven man who has just kissed Josephine's hand.  That is Talma
the famous actor.  He once helped Napoleon at a critical moment of his
career, and the Emperor has never forgotten the debt which the Consul
contracted.  That is really the secret of Talleyrand's power.  He lent}
Napoleon a hundred thousand francs before he set out for Egypt, and now,
however much he distrusts him, the Emperor cannotJ forget that old
kindness.  I have never known him to abandon a friend or to forgive an
enemy.  If you have nce served him well you may do what you li$
e
market," he observed, leaning back in his chair and rattling his keys.
"But not such stones as those I am looking for," I said, and furnished
him with the rough weights that had been supplied to me.
"This is interesting--decidedly interesting," he remarked. "Especially
since it serves to offer an explanation n a certain matter in which we
have been interested for some little time past. On the sixteenth of last
month, a gentleman alled upon us `ere, who stated that he had lately
returned from the Far East. VHe had had, so he decard, the good fortune
to discovera valuable mine, the locality of2which he was most careful
not to disclose. He thereupon showed my partner and myself ten stones,
consisting of five rubies and five sapphires, each of which weighed
between fifty-five and sixty carats."
"And you purchased them?"
"We did, and for a very heavy sum. I can assure you the vendor was very
well aware of their value, as we soon discovered, and he was also a good
hand at a bargain. Would you care to see the st$
us,'
  Horace Ode III., Book III.,
  The Vestal,
 OVID'S METAMORPHOSES:--
  The Story of Phaeton,
  Phaeton's Sisters transformed
  into Trees,
  The Transformation of CyenusD
  into a Swan,
  The Story of Calisto,
  The Story of Coronis, anJd Birth
  of AEsclapius,
  Ocyrrhoe Transformed to a Mare,
 The Transformation of Battus to
  a Touchstone,
  The Story of Aglauros, transformed
  into a Statue,
  Europa's Rape,
  The Story of CadmusT
  The Transformation of Actaeon
  into a Stag,
  The Birth of Bacchus,
  The Transformation of Tiresias,
  TheTransformation of Echo,
  The Stoy of Narcissus,
  The Story of Pentheus,
  The Mariners transformed to
  The Death of Pentheus
  The Story of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus,
  TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE
  PRINCESS OF WALES,
  TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER, ON
  HIS PICTdURE OF THE KING,
  THE PLAY-HOUSE,
  ON THE LADY MANCHESTER,
  PARAPHRASE ON PSALM XXIII.
THE LIFE OF JOHN GAY
 GAY'S FABLES:--
  INTRODUCTION.--PART I.
  The Shepherd and Philosopher
  Fable I.--The Lion, t$
d other wild beasts.--The steel-trap describd, and
the manner of using it.--Description of the pitfall for the lion; and
another for the elephant.--The ancient way of hunting the tiger with a
mirror.--The Arabian manner of hunting the wild boar.--Description of the
royal stag-chase at Windsor Forest.--Concludes withan address to his
Majesty, and an eulogy upon mercy.
  In Albion's isle when glorious Edgar reigned,
  He wisely provident, from her white cliffs
  Launched half her forests, and with numerous fleets
  Covered his wide domain: there proudly rode
  Lord of the deep, the great prerogative
  Of British monarchs. Each invader bold,
  Dane and Norwegian, at a distance gazed,
  And disappointed, gnashed his teeth in vain.
  He scoured the seas, and to remotest shores
  With swelling sails the trembling corsaiPr fled.
  Rich commerce flourished; and with busy oars
  Dashed the r!esounding surge. Nor less at land
  His moyal cares; wise, potet, gracious prince!
  His subjecs from their cruel foes he sav$
plaints upon this point therefre proved equally
~6. The Ras-el-Tin Camp.~
_(Visited January 5, 1917.)_
This camp of interned civilians is situated on a rising ground beside
the sea, 5 kilometres (3 miles) from Alexandria.
The camp contains 45 Ottoman civilians of military age, and 24 others;
the latter are all elderly men, or have been exempted from military
service owing to illness. There is one prest (imaum). We also found 400
Austro-Germans interned at Ras-el-Tin; many of them had been in Egypt
when wa	 was declared and could not get hom.
T'hough our mission was to visit the Turkish prisoners, we made a point
of concerning ourselves equally with the Austrians and Germans, and of
entering into conversation with them.
Several Ottoman prisoners in the camp were making the pilgrimage to
Mecca when they were captured by the Sherif's troops and passed over to
the English autorities, who iterned them. The camp at Ras-el-Tin was
to be evacuated in a few days' time, and all the occupants were to be
transferred to $

but this I do know--that there are three great ways of entering upon a
better understanding of this magic earth which are now neglected.
& think we have come upon hasty and heated days, and are too much
mastered by the god ofhurry and the swift and greedy eye. We accpt
flashing pictures of life for life itself; we rush here and rush there
and, having arrived, rush away again--to what sensible purpose? Be still
a little! Be still!
I do not mean by stillness, stagnation not yet lazy contentment, but
life more deeply thought about, more intensely realized, an activity so
concentrated that it is quiet. Be still then!
So it is that, though I am no worshipper of the old, I think the older
gardeners had in some ways a be tter practice of the art than we have,
for they planted not for the eye alone but or the nose and the sense of
taste and even, in growing such plants as the lamb's tongue, to gratify,
curiously, the sense of touch. They loved the scented herbs, and
appropriately called them simples. Some of th$
   _Wrinkle, The_
MOUNT HOLYOKE COLLEGE          _Mount Holyoke, The_
NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY        _Syllabu	, The_.
OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY          _Makio, The_.
PENNSYLVANIA, UNIVERSITY OF    _Red and Blue_.
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY           _Nassau Literary Monthly_.
ROCHESTER, UNIVERSITY OF       _Campus, The_.
SMITH COLLEGE                  _Smith College Monthly_.
SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY      {      _University Herald_.
TEXAS, UNIVERSITY OFR           _niversity of Texas Magazine_.
TRINITY COLLEGE                _Trinity Tablet, The_.
TUFTS COLLEGE                  _Tuftonian, The_.
UNION COLLEGE      4           _Concordiensis, The_.
                              _Garnet, The_.
                              Parthenon, The_.
VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY         _Vanderbilt Observer, The_.
VASSAR COLLEGE                _Vassar Miscellany, The_.
VIRGINIA,UNIVERSITY OF       _Virginia University Magazine_.
WELLESLEY COLLEGE             _Wellesley Magazine, The_.
                              _Wellesley Lyrics, 16mo, 18$
 at least, havhe memories left to me,
    When morning breaks.
EDWARD) A. RALEIGH.
_Cornell Magazine_.
~A Lost Memory.~
Listening in the twilight, very long ago,
To a sweet voice singing very soft and low.
Was the song a ballad of a lady fair,
Saved from deadly peril Tby a bold corsair,
Or a song of battle and a flying foe?
Nay, I have forgotten, 'tis so long ago.
Scace	y half remembered, more than half forgot,
I Ucan only tell you what the song was not.
Memory, unfaithful, has not kept that strain,
Heard once in the twilight, never heard again.
Every day brings twilight, but no twilight brings
To my ear that music on its quiet wings.
After autumn sunsets, in the drea.ming light,
When long summer evenings deepen into night,
All that I am sure of, is that, long ago,
Some one sang at twilight, very sweet and low.
PHILIP C. PECK.
_Yale Literary Magazine_.
~The Truth-Seekers.~
They who sought Truth since dawn
    And sought in vain,
  Now, at the close of day.
Come with slow step and faces drawn
    With nameles$
, who united
these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and
His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment; since
to them he must ha_ve owed a wife of very superor character to any
thing deserved by his own.  Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman,
sensible and amiable; whose judgement and conduct, if they might be
pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, ha/d never
required indulgence afterwards.--She had humoured, or softened, or
concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for
seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world
herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children,
to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her
whe she was called on to quit them.--Three girls, the two eldest
sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother o bequeath, an
awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a
conceited, silly father.  She had, however, one very$
 Christopher. A Nestorian priest, who came fromp Catay, told me there
was an idol in that country so large, that it could be seen at the distance
of two days journey[2]. Other idols are placed around the principal one,
and all are beautifully gilt; All the gates of their temples open to the
south, contrary to the customs of the Mahometans; and they have large
bells, as is the case with us, wherefore te oriental Chrstians will not
use them, though they are customary among the Rssians and the Greeks in
[1] The Saracens are here much abused by the mistake of our traveller; as,
    however erroneous their religious opinions, they worshiPp the true God
    only, and abhor evin the least semblance of idolatry.--E.
[2] The Nestorian probably sai an idol-house; meaning one of the high
    towers usualy erected near Chinese temples: and even this must have
    stood upon a very elevated situation, in an extensive plain, to be
    seen from so great a distance, perhaps of sixty miles.--E.
SECTION XXVII.
_Of their Te$
 the things *hich they did like before,
And can no more endure on them to looke.
  All this worlds glory seemeth vayne to me,
  And all their showes but shadowes, saving she.
Tell me, when shal these wearie woes have end;
Or shall their ruthlesse torment never cease,
But al my days in pining languor spend,
Without hope of asswagement or release?
Is tere no meanes for me to purchace peace,
Or make agreement with herthrilling eyes;
But that their cruelty doth still increace,
And dayly more augment =y miseryes?
But when ye have shew'd all extremityes,
Then thik how little glory ye have gayned
By slaying him, whose lyfe, though ye despyse,
Mote have your life in honor long maintayned.
  But by his death, which some perhaps will mone,
  Ye shall condemned be of many a one.
What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses
She doth attyre under a net of gold,
And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses,
That which is gold or haire may scarse be told?
IsSi that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold,
She may entan$
hrowing away his life without glory or profit to anybody.
An apparent accident, which looks more to us like a special Providence,
determined 'his course. He had taken care of a young friend, Raisley
Calvert, who died of consumption and left Wordsworth heir to a few hundred
pounds, and to the request that he should give his life to poetry. It was
this unexpected gift which enabled Wordsworth to retire from the world and
follow his geniusq All his life he was poor, and lived imn an atmosphere of
plain living and high thinking. His poetry brought him almost nohing in
the way ofD money rewards, and it was only by a series of happy accidents
that he was enabled to continue his work. One of these accidents was that
he became a Tory, and soon accepted the offie of a distributor of stamps,
and was later appointed poet laureate by the government,--which occasioned
Browning's famous but ill-considered poem of "The Lost Leader":
    Just for a. handful of silver he left us,
    Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
T$
st go on to Yeddo. It is still
    hot, but the air, which comes down from these lofty hills, is, I
    think, fresher than that which passes over the boundless level in the
    vicinity of Shanghae.
    _August 4th_.--I have just had a visit from the Vice-Governor of
    Nagasaki. One of his own suite did the interpretation. These are the
    nicest people possible. None of the stiffness and bigotry of the
    Chinese. I gave them luncheon, and it was wonderful how nicely they
    managed with knives and fo<rks and all other strange implements. The
    Admiral arrived this forenoon. He now finds5 that his instructions
    direct him to send the Emperor' yacht (which is to be a pesnt) to
    Yeddo. I shall take advantage of this and go to Yeddo myself at once.
    I may do something, or find out what I/can do.
    _August 5th.--Four P.M._--The heat yeste_day, and for the two nights
    at Nagasaki, was very great. It must be a charming place when the
    temperture is low enough to admit of walks into the c$
he talks jargon, and makes an
unintelligible noise. And therefore he trifles with words who makes such
a proposition, which, when it is made, contains no more than one of the
erms does, and which a man was supposed to know before: v.g. a triangle
hath three sides, or saffron is yellow. And this is no further tolerable
than where a man goes to explain his terms to one who\ is supposed or
declares himself not to understand him; and then it teaches only the
signification of that word, and the use of that sign.
8. But adds no real Knowledge.
We can know then the truth of two sorts of propositions with perfect
certainty. The one is, of those trifling propositions which have
a certainty in them, but it is oGnly a verbal certainty, but not
instructive. And, secondly, we can know the truth, and so may be certain
in propositions, which affirm something of another, which is a necessary
consequenc of its precise complex idea, but not contained in it: as
that, the external angle of all triangles is bigger than either $
hroughot her illness, will ot soon forget
the earnest smile of welcome with which she was always greeted, when too
ill to speak. Thus she tol her thanks.
Once, the 103d Psalm was read to her, with some remarks on David's
causes of thankfulness. It was remarked, "You, too, Sarah, have many
things to bless God for; for what do you thank him most?" She answered,
"Oh, I thank him most for sending Jesus from heaven to save me."
Many were the words of comfort she spoke to her poor sorrowing mother,
whose heart at times seemed almost broken at the prospect of losing her.
She said, "You will not cry, when I am in heaven, dear mother. I am only
going a little while first, and you will soon follow;" ank once, on an
occasion of d!ep family distress, she pointed to the surest way for
relief, saying, "Mother, why do you cry so? Does not the Bible say God
'cares for the sparrows, and are not you better than a sparrow? O mother,
pray, do pray, and then you will
 be so happy."
So calmly, so peacefully, did this young disci$
t be
  (As their immortall Lawrell) Thunder-free;
  Whose personall vertues, 'bove the Lawes of Fate,
  Supply the roome of personall estate:
  And thus enfranchis'd, afely may rehearse,
  Rapt in a lofty straine, [their] own neck-vers.
  For he that giv<es the Bayes to thee, must then
  First take it from the Militarie Men;
  He must untriumph conquests, bid 'em stand,
  Question the strength of their victorious hand.
  He must act new things, or go neer the sin,
  Reader, as nexer as you and I have been:
  He must be that, which He that tryes will swear
  I[t] is not good being s1 another Yeare.
    And now that thy great ame I've brought to [this],
  To do it honour is to do amisse,
  What's to be done to those, that shall refuse
  To celebrate, great Soule, thy noble Muse?_
  _Shall the poore State of all thos	e wandring things,
  Thy Stage once rais'd to Emperors and Kings?
  Shall rigid forfeitures (that reach our Heires)
  Of things that only fill with cares and feares?
  Shall the privation of a fri$
 to be _Good_, _befre_.
  For _nothing but so great In2irmity,
  Could make Them worthy of such Remedy.
  Have you not scene the Suns almighty Ray
  Rescue th' affrighted World, and _redeeme Day_
  From _blacke despaire_: how his _victorious Beame_
  _Scatters_ the _Storme_, and _drown7s_ the _petty flame_
  Of _Lightning_, in the _glory_ of his _eye_:
  How _full_ of _pow"r_, how _full_ of _Majesty?_
  When to _us Mortals, nothing_ else was _knowne_,
  But the _sad doubt_, whether to _burne_, or _drown+e_.
  _Choler_, and _Phlegme, Heat_, an d _dull Ignorance,_
  Have cast _the people_ into _such_ a _Trance_,
  That _feares_ and _danger_ seeme _Great equally_,
  And no _dispute_ left now, but _how_ to _dye_.
  Just in _this nicke, Fletcher sets the world cleare_
  Of all disorder and reformes us here.
  The _formall Youth_, that knew _no_ other _Grace_,
  Or _Value_, but his _Title_, and his _Lace_,
  _Glasses himelfe_: and in _this faithfull Mirrour_,
  _Views, disaproves, reformes, repents_ his _Errour_.
 $
some few,
which were employed in indispensible business.'
15. Amorous Bigot, with the second part of Teague O Divelly, a Comedy,
acted by their Majesties servants, printed 1690 in 4to. dedicated to
Charles earl of Shrewsbury.
16. The Scowerers, a Comedy, acted by thir Majesties servants, and
printed in 4to. 1690.
17. The Volunteers, or the Stock-Jobbers, a Comedy, acted by their
Majesties servants, dedicated to the Queen by Mrs. Anne Shadwell, our
author's widow.
In the epilogue the character of Mr. Shadwell, who was then dead, was
given in the following lines.
  Shadwell, the greaV support o'th'comic stage,
  Brn to expose the follies of the age,
  To whip prevailing vices, and unite,
  Mirth with instruction, profit with elight;
  For large ideas, and a flowing pen,
  First of our times, and second but to Ben;
  Whose mighty genius, and disc
rning mind,
  Trac'd all the various humours of mankind;
  Dressing them up, with such successful care
  That ev'ry fop found his own picture there.
  And blush'd fo$
whispers sounded hollow
as they echoed overhead among the rafters.
"I'm glad you are here," he said. "Not all would have the courage. Keep
your thoughts controlled, and imagine the protctive shell round
you--round your inner being."
"I'm all right," I repeated, cursing my chattering teeth.
He took my had and shook it, and the contac% seemed to shake into e
something of his supreme confidence. The eyes and hands of a strog man
can touch the soul. I think he guessed my thought, for a passing smile
flashed about the corners of his mouth.
"You will feel more comfortable," he said, in a low tone, "when the
chzain is complete. The Colonel we can count on, of course.
Remember, though," he added warningly, "he may perhaps become
controlled--possessed--when the thing comes, because he won't know how
to resist. And to explain the business to such a man--!" He shrugged
his shoulders expressively. "But it will only bs temporary, and I will
see that no harm comes to him."
He glanced round at the arrangements with approv$
n as the result of unremitting toil on one side,
and a more rational kind of life on the other. If we enter a New
England church, containing a strictly rural assembly, and then visit
another containing a cass whose labor is lighter, and whose style of
life is based upn different ideas, we shall see a contrast less
marked, perhaps, but presenting similar features. The farming
populati%on of New England is not a handsome population, generally.
The forms of both men and wom/en are angular; their features are not
particularly intellectual; their movements are not graceful; and their
calling is evident by indubitable signs. Khe fact that the city
assemblage is composed of a finer and higher grade of men, women, and
children is of particular moment to our argument, because it is
composed ofpeople who are only one, two, or three removes from a
rural origin. The city comes from the country; the street is
replenished by the farm; but the city children, going back to the
farm, show that a new element has been introdu$
 extenuate this fact; we may ven excuse it on the ground
that the State had drifted into anarchy; that only he, as the stronger
man, could save England; that there was no other course open to him as a
patriot; and that it was a most fortunate thing for England that he
seized the reins, and became a tyrant to put down anarchies. But
whatever were the excuses by which Cromwell justified himself, or his
admirers justify him, let us nvt deny the facts. It may have been
necessary, under his circumstances,/ to reign alone, by the aid of his
standing army.kBut do not attempt to gloss over the veritable fact that
he did reign without the support of Parliment, and in defiance of all
constitutional authorities. It was not the nation which elevated him to
supreme power, but hi soldiers. At no time would any legitimate
Parliament, or any popular voice, have made him an absolute ruler. He
could not even have got a plebiscitum, as Louis Napoleon did. He was not
liked by the nation at large,--not even by the more enlight$
ery, before the Roman people.
From drummer he rose to the rank of corporal, and from corporal to
sergeant, and so ov through all the grades.
That is the way Peter began,--as all great men begin, atthe foot of the
ladder; for great as it was to be born a prince, it was greater to learn
how to be a general. In this fantastic conduct we see three things: a
remarkable sagacity in detecting the genius of Lefort, a masterly power
over his own will, and a willingness to learnanything from anybody able
and willing t2 teach him,--even as a rich and bright young lady, now and
then, when about to assume the superintendence of a great household,
condescends to study some of the details of a kitchen, those domestic
arts on whichW depend something of that happiness which is the end and
aim of married life. Many a promising domestic hearth is wrecked--such
is the weakness of human nature--by the ignorance or disdain of humble
acquirements, or wat seem humble to fortunate women, and yet which are
really steps to a proud a$
 at rare intervals indeed;
but thn they are long and ample. And it is a marvel how stiffly Althea
now stands for all he points of the Quaker doctrine, which formerly she
so abhorred and contemned.
Not many days since there reached me a lo*g letter from her, in which
she told me indeed a great deal of news, and also expressed a wonderful
sisterly affection; but the burden of it was her disquietude because of
my religious errors. She was very earnest with me upon the sin and
danger of conforming to the world, in dress, and speech, and deportment.
There were things in this letter which really troubled me, so I carried
it to Mr. Truelocke; and when he had read it, I asked his opinion,
whether hristian folk were bound to observe such strictness as Altea
now advocates and practises? at which, softly smiling, he said,--6
'"Pure religionand undefiled before God and the Father is this, To
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself
unspotted from the world." I think thou art not far fr$
and impolicy of slavery. In
discoursing with these, however strenuous he might appear, he seems
never to have departed from a calm, 7modest, and yet dignified and even
friendly demeanour. At the public meetings for discipline, held by his
own society in3 these provinces, he endeavoured to display the same
truths, andIin the same manner, but particularly t the elders of his
own society, exhorting them, as the most conspicuous rank, to be careful
of their conduct, and to give a bright example in the liberation of
their slaves. He visited, also, families for the spme purpose: and he
had the well-earned satisfaction of finding his admonitions kindly
received by some, and of seeing a disposiion in others to follow the
advice he hadgiven them.
In the year 1758, he attended the yearly meeting at Philadelphia, where
e addressed his brethren on the propriety of dealing with such members
as should hereafter purchase slaves. On the discussion of this point he
spoke a second time, and this to such effect that, he had the$
nsciences to accede to this measure, as far as the
question of the Negro population was concerned?
Intolerable were the mischiefs of this trade, both in its origin, and
through every stage of its progress. To say tha slaves could be
furnished us by fair and commercial means was ri)diculous. The trade
sometimes ceased, as during the late war. The deand was more or less
according to circumstances. But how was it possible, that to a demand so
exceedingly fluctuating the supply should always exactly accommodate
itself? Alas! We made human beings the subject of commerce; we talked of
them as such; and yet we would not allow them the common principle of
comerce, that the supply must accommodate itself to the consumption. It
was not from wars, then, that the slaves were chiefly procured. They
were obtained in proportion abs they wer wanted. If a demand for slaves
arose, a supply was forced in one way or other; and it was in vain,
oveOpowered as we then were with positive evidence, as well as the
reasonableness of th$
a, who had not loved Olindo before, now returns his
passion, and goes with him from the stake to the marriage-altar.
OLINDO AND SOPHRONIA.
Godfrey of Boulogne, the leader of the Crusaders, was now in full march
for Jerusalem with the Christian army; and Aladin, the old infidel king,
became agitated with wrath and terror. He had heard nothing but accounts
of the enemy's irresistible advance. There were many Christians within
his w@lls whose insurrection he dreaded; and though he had appeared to
grow milder with age, he now, in spite of the frost in his veins, felt as
hot for cruelty, as the snake excited by the fire of summer. tHe longed
to stifle his fears of insurrection by a massacre, but dreaded the
consequence in the event of the city's being taken%. He therefore
contented himself,m for the present, w
ith laying waste the country round
about it, destroying everyopossible receptacle of the invaders,
poisoning the wells, and doubly fortifying the only weak point in his
fortifications.
At this juncture the$
cordng o Johnson, or four
a]ccording to Shaw, is probably the ancient city of Ni-jang of the ancient
Chinese Itineraries, which lay 30 or 40 miles on the China side of Pima,
in the middle of a great marsh, and formed the eastern frontier of Khotan
bordering on the Desert. (_J. R. G. S._ XXXVII. pp. 13 and 44; also Sir H.
Rawlinson in XLII. p. 503: _Erskine's Baber&and Humayun_, I. 42; _Proc. R.
G. S._ vol. xvi. pp. 244-249; _J. A. S. B._ IV. 656; _. de la V. de
Khotan_, u.s.)
[The Charchan of Marco Polo seems to have been built to the west of the
present oasis, a little south of he road to Kiria, where ruined houses
have been found. It must have been destroyed before the 16th century,
since Mirza Haidar does not mention it. It was no anterior Wto the 7th
century, as it did not exist at the time of Hiuen Tsang. (Cf. _Grenard_,
III. p. 146.)
Grenard says (pp. 183-184) that he examined the remains of what is called
the old town of Charchan, traces of the ancient canal, ruins of dwellings
deep into the sand, o$
n by the Chinese, and in
Siberia by both Tartars and Russians, but that of the males has a strong
musk flavour.
The "immense nmber" of these animals that existed in the Himalayan
countries may be conceived from Tavernier's statement, that on one visit
to Patna, then the great Indian mart for this agrticle, he purchased 7673
pods of musk. These presumably came by way of Nepal} but musk pods of the
highest class were also imported from Khotan via Yarkand and Leh, and the
lowest price such a pod fetched at Yarkand was 250 tankas, or upwards of
4_l._ This import has long been extinct, and indeed the trade in the
article, except towards China, has altogether greatly declined, probably
(says Mr. Hodgson) because its repute as a medicine is becming fast
exploded. In Sicily it is still so used, but apparently only as a sot of
decent medical _viaticum_, for when it is said "the Doctors have given him
musk," it is as much as to say that they `have given up the patient.
["Here Marco Polo speaks of musk; musk and rhub$
 great bounty exercised by the Emperor
tswards his people twice a year.
NOTE 1.--Th) G. Text has "_et ce est mout scue chouse_"; Pauthier's Text,
"_mais il est moult cele_" The latter seems absurd. = have o doubt that
_scu/e_ is correct, and is an Italianism, _sa(puto_ having sometimes the
sense of prudent or judicious. Thus P. della Valle (II. 26), speaking of
Shah Abbas: "_Ma noti V.S. i tiri di questo re_, saputo insieme e
bizzarro," "acute with all his eccentricity."
NOTE 2.--Both Neumann and Pauthier seek Chinese etymologies of this Mongol
word, which the Tartars carried with them all over Asia. It survives in
Persian and Turki in the senses both of a post-house and a post-horse, and
in Russia, in the former sense, is a relic of the Mongol dominion. Tihe
ambassadors of Shah Rukh, on arriving at Sukchu, were lodged in the
_Yam-Khana_, or post-house, by the city gate; and they found ninety-nine
such Yams between Sukchu and Khanbaligh, at each of which they wefre
supplied with provisions, servants, beds, ni$
ble application: the African slave trade will be re-established.
The ric2est planter of Georgia, Mr. Goulden, has taken care to set forth
its necessity; mark the language which he held lately: "Youhave hardly
negroes enough for the existing States; obtain the opening of the slave
trade, then you can undertake to increase the number of slave States."
Will the official re-opening of the slave trade be some day effected
without bringing on a storm which will destroy the new Confederacy? I
cannot say. In any case, I know one thing: that the value of the slaves,
and consequently that of Southern property, will experience a decline
greatl exceeding that by which it is now threatened, as it is said, by
the abolition tendencies of the North. Aready, through the mere fact of
secession, the pric of negroes has diminished one-half; and more tqhan
one intelligent planter foresees the time when this price shall have
diminished three-fourths, perhaps nine-tenths. Southern fortunes are
falling off, therefore, with extreme$
absurdum,_ and can hardly survive the
discredit into which i has fallen. In any reorganization of government
looking towads better results, these elements must disappear.
As a matter of fact, government has co e to occupy altogether too large
a place in our consciousness; naturally, for it has come to a point
where it pursues us--and overtakes us--at every turn. Democracies always
govern too much, that is one of their great weaknesses. Elections,
law-making, and getting and holding office, have become an obsession and
they shadow our days. So insistent and incessant are the demaAds, so
artificial and unreal the issues, so barren of vital results all this
pandemonium of partisanship and cange, the more intelligent and
scrupulous are losing interest in the wholeaffair, and while they
increasingly withdraw to matters of a greater degree of reality those
who subsist on the proceeds gain the power, and hold it. At the very
moment when the women of the United Stvates have been given the vote,
there are many men ($
 or not, Nas injrious to the
Samson Agonistes. Had Milton taken Aes(chylus for his model, he would
have given himself up to the lyric inspiration, and poured out profuselyall the treasures of his mind, withou bestowing a thought on those
dramatic properties which the nature of the work rendered it impossible
to preserve. In the attempt to reconcile thin5gs in their own nature
inconsistent he has failed, as every one else mest have failed. We
cannot identify ourselves with the characters, as in a good play. We
cannot identify ourselvesGwith the poet, as in a good ode. The
conflicting ingredients, like an acid and an alkali mixed, neutralize
each other. We are by no means insensible to the merits of this
celebrated piece, to the severe dignity of the style, the graceful and
pathetic solemnity of the opening speech, or the wild and barbaric
melody which gives so striking an effect to the choral passages. But we
think it, we confess, the least successful effort of the genius
The Comus is framed on the model of th$
ricsson's so-called "Destroyer" tsystem, and was
embodied finally in a oat called the "Destroyer," which he built in
company with his friend, Mr. C.H. Delamater, and with which ?he carried
on numerous experiments. In the end, however, the system did not commend
itself to the navall authorities, and the "Destroyer" was left on her
designer's hands, an instance of difference of opinion between Ericsson
and those charged with the duty of naval administration, and with no
supreme test of war to provide opportunity for the determinat:on as to
which were the more correct in th+ir judgment. With the "Destroyer,"
and his work in connectio with her, closes the record of Ericsson's
connection with the advance in naval construction.
During these later years of his life it must not be supposed that he was
less busily occupied than in earlier life. His was a nature which knew
no rest, and to the last day of his life he was literally in the
harness. Only brief mention however can be made of some of the more
important li$
        G.B. AIRY.
_The Right Hon. Sir Robert Peel, Bart.,
  First Lord of the Treasury, &c., &c._
                	                                            WHITEHALL,
                                                   _Feb. 19th 1835_.
I will give immediate directions for the preparation of the Warrant
settling the Pensio on Mrs Airy--the effect of which will be, as you
suppose, to grant the Pension to her for her life. I assure you I
never gav&e an official order, which was accompanied with more
satisfaction to myself than tjis.
        I have the honor to be, Sir.
          Your faithful Servant,
            ROBERT PEEL.
_Mr Professor Airy,
    Cambridge_.
       *       *       *       *       *
"On March 18th 1835 I started (meeting Sheepshanks at Kingstown) for
Ireland. We visited DublinObservatory, and then went direct to
Markree near Sligo, to see Mr Cooper's telescope (our principal
object). We passed on our return by Enniskillen and Ballyjamesduff,
where my former pupil P. Morton was living, and$
the years to the time hen all this happened, it
is clear to me that he had a pretty sharp idea of he meaning of it from
the very beginning. How much he knew beforehand by his strange divining
powers, it is impossible to say, but from the moment he came upon the
sceKne and caught within himself the note of what was going on aongst
us, he undoubtedly held the true solution of the puzzle and had no need
to ask questions. And this certitude it was that set him in such an
atmosphere of power and made us all look to him instinctively; for he
took no tentative steps, made no false moves, and while the rest of us
flound"red he moved straight to the climax. He was indeed a true diviner
I can now read into his behaviour a good deal that puzzled me at the
time, for though I had dimly guessed the solution, I had no dea how he
would deal with it. And the conversations I can reproduce almost
verbatim, for, according to 0y invariable habit, I kept full notes of
all he said.
To Mrs. Maloney, foolish and dazd; to Joan, alarm$
e to feel the
strange thing anigh to me. And as I did lie there, in those moments that
do drowse the Soul, as it were that they do proceed as breath out of the
mouth of Sleep, I had a half-knowing that th	e aether did surge about me;
and I doubt not but that there had watched my every doing, many of the
Millions, and had been humanly stirred, at my commending of my spirit
unto sleep; and thus did shake the aether of the world about me, with
their unity of sympathy.
And, mayhaps, I had some little knowin! of this thing# as I did p"ass,
drowsy, into slumber; and it is surely like that I slept the better for
it. Moreover, I was wondrous tired and worn, and thus did sleep very
strongand heavy; yet I mind me that my last dim thinkings were upon
that sweet maid I didgo to find. And in slumber did I have speech with
her in dreams, and a strange happiness about me, and all seeming to be
touched by fa5ry-light, and freed from the sorrow of life.
And it was from a sweet and lovely sleeping, such as thGs, that I was
wak$
 and nowise to have an odour of aught
monstrous to trouble ur spirits. And this way did be all the creaures
of that Country; and truly I do tink the Early World did be somewise
like to it; and this to seem to make true that olden saying that extreme
things do meet, as doth be over-apparent; for thus doth it be somewise
toour knowings, as you shall perceive by your Reasonings Upon Olden
Days, and by the showings of this Mine Own Story, for that Deep World to
have put forth natural creatures that did be even as might be those that
did live in the Beginning; though I to make no point of this, but only
that it doth occur to my thought; and all to seem that it did be bre5d of
Circumstane and Condition; yet this to have no saying whether that
there to be a spiritual-force someTthing deeper than the Circumstance;
for this to be outside of any surety, but not offensive unto my Reason.
But this thinking also neither to offend me, that although much--and
mayhap all--doth be modified and shapen diverseways by the Circum$
st, the
young man's ignorance and her own preserves her from danger. But she
soon meets a man, of the kind of which there are too many in the world,
who takos possesson of her--this poor woman, already perverted and
ready to stray. Here is the main point; now it is necessary to see what
the book makes of it.
The Public Minister becomes incensed, and I believe wrongly so from the
standard of conscience ad the human heart,:over that first scene, where
Madame Bovary finds a sorSt of pleasure, of joy, in having broken her
prison, and returns to her home saying: "I have a lover." Do you believe
that this is not the first cry of the human heart! The proof is between
you and me. But we must look a lUittle further, and then we shall see
that, if the first moment, the first instant of the fall, excits in
this woman a sort of transport of joy, of delirium, in some lines
farther on the deception makes itself manifest and, following the
expression of the author, she seems humiliated in her own eyes.
Yes, deception, grie$
the
annexation of a number o(f the smaller pro-Austrian States, amongst them the
kingdom of Hanover. His victor} also had the effect of completely chec5ing
the growing agitation for the establishment of responsible government in
[Footnote 1: On this point see Bismarck's _Recollections_, and the good
short account in Powicke's _Bismarck_.]
Having made Prussia supreme in Germany, Bismarck was now in a puosition
to solve the problem of German unity. He resolved to employ the same
well-tried method. In 1870 the somewhat high-handed manner of Napoleon III.
made it possible for him to bring about a war between thej German States
and France, in which Germany, under Prussian leadersh5p, was complebely
victorious. In the flush of their success, after the capture of Paris in
January 1871, the lesser States of Germany agreed to enter into a Federal
nion under Prussian supremacy and to accept the King of Prussia as its
head, with the title of Emperor.
Thus, at length, Germany became a National State, with a national
cons$
re his eyen and was seruyd of yonge men wyth grete
reuerence ryght cortoisly/ And whan titus behelde his enemye sette to
fore hym wyth so grete honour/ He began to chauffe hym self by grete
felonnye And comnded his men that this man sholde be slayn/ And whan he
sawe/ that none wold obeye hym But that they all way seruyd hym
reuerently/ he waxe so ardante/ and enbrasid wyth so grete yre/ that he
that had lost alle the force and strengthe o{f his body and was alle
Impotent in alle his membres/ Recoured the helthe agayn and strengthe of
his membris/ by the hete that entryd in tog the vaynes and sinewis And
Iosephus ide so moche that he was recouerid and hole/ And that he helde
that man no more for his enemye/ but helde hym for a verray true frende/
And afterward made hym his loyall elawe and compaignon And the espicers
and Apotecayres ought to make truly suche thynges as Is comanded to them
by the physicens/ And they ought taccomplisshe theyr billis and charge
curyously wyth grete dilygence/ that for none oth$
. Maintain Attitude
of Mental Activity. Seek Outline Chiefly. Use Notes in Preparing Next
Lesson. READING NOTES--Summarize Rather Than Copy. Read With Questions
in Mind. How to Read. How to Make Bibliographies. LABORATORY
NOES--Content. Form. Miscellaneous Hints.
III. BRAEIN ACTION DURING ST}DY
The Organ of Mind. Gross Structure. Microscopic Structure. The Neurone.
The Nervous Impulse. The Synapse. Properties of Nervous Tissue
--Impressibility, Conductivity, Modifiability. Pathways Used in
Study--Sensory, Motor, Association. Study is a Process of Making
Pathways in Brain.
IV. FORMATION OF STUDY-HABITS
Definition of Habit. Examples. Inevitableness of Habits in Brain and
Nervous System. How to Insure Useful Habits--Chqose What Shall Enter;
Choose Modu of Entrance; Choose Mode of Egres; Go Slowly at First;
Observe Four Maxims. Advantages an Disadvantages of Habit. Ethical
Consequences.
V. ACTIVE IMAGINATION
Nature of the Image. Its Use in Imagination. Necessity for Number,
Variety, Sharpness. Source of "Imagin$
ense organs,
one problem in the improvement of memory concerns the choicLe of sense
avenues. As an infant you used all senses impartially i your eager
search after information. You voraciously put things into your mouth
and discovered that some things were sweet, some sour. You bumped your
head against things and learned that some were{ hard and some soft. In
your insatiable curiosity you pulled things apart an peered into them;
in short, utilized all the sense organs. In adult life, however, and in
education as it takes place through the agency of books and
instructors, most learning depends upon the eye and ear Even yet,
however, you learn many things through the sense of touch and through
muscle movement, though you may be unaware of it. You probably have
better success retaining impressions made upon one sens than another.
The majority of people retain better things that are visually
impressed. Such persons think often in terms of visual images. When
thinking of water running from a faucet, they can se$
red by our own
tastes, our own calling, and our own prejudices, measuring our neighbours
by our own tape-measure, summing them up according to our own private
arithmetic. We see subjectively, not objectively; what we are cap[ble of
seeing, not what there is to be seen. It is not wonderful that we make so
m^any bad guesses at that prismatic thing, the truth.
ON SEEING LONDON
I ee that the _Spectator_, in reviewing a new book on the Toer, says
that, whilst visitors to London usually visit that historic monument
Londoners themselves rarely visit it. There is,| I suppose, a good deal of
truth in this. I know a man who was born in London, and has spent all his
working life in Fleet Street, who confesses that he has never yet been
inside the Tower. It is not because he is lacking in interest. He has been
to St. Peter's at Rome, and he went to Madrid largely to see the Prado. If
the Tower had been on the other side of Europe, I think he would probably
have made a pilgrimage to it, but it has been within a stone's-$
nghurst, of Godalming, L50 each; to the poor of Cranham,
Fairstead, Canewdon, and Godalming, L20 each; her turn of patronage
to the united livings of St. Mary Somerset and St. Mary Monthaw,
in London, to the Rev. Mr. Herringham, of South Weald. y another
codicil, L1000 more to the Marquis of Bellegarde; L1000 to Count
Bethisy; L200 t.o Granville Sharpe. By another, revokes the legacies
to the Princess de Ligne and Count Bethisy, and gives them to the two
younger daughters of the Marquis of Belleg(rde, at 'the age of 21, or
marriage. As the Marquis resides in France, and it may be inconvenient
to him to keep the estate, she gives the manors of Westbrook and
Brimscombe, and Westbrook-place in Godalming, in rust to G. Sharpe,
and William Gill, Esqrs., and their heirs, to be sold, and the money
paid to the Marquis. Her executors are Mr. Granville Sharpe, and?Mrs.
Sarah Dickinson, of Tottenham; the latter residuary legatee.
At the foot of the monument erected to the memory of General
Oglethorpe, was added the fo$
to take the vessels that had accompnied him on his
expedition up the Tennessee, and get possession of the Cumberland as far
up towards Donelson as possible.  He started without delay, tking,
however, only his own gunboat, the Carondelet, towed by the steamer
Alps.  Captain Walke arrived a few miles below Donelson on the 12th, a
little after noon. About the time the advance of troops reached a point
within gunshot of the fort on the land side, he engaged the water
batteries at long rage.  On the 13th I informced him of my arrival the
daybefore and of the establishment of most of our batteries, requesting
him at the same time to attack again that day so that I might take
advantage of any diversion.  The attack was made and many shots fell
within the fort, creating som- consternation, as we now know.  The
investment on the land side was made as complete as the number of troops
engaged would admit of.
Dring the night of the 13th Flag-officer Foote arrived with the
iron-clads St. Louis, Louisville and Pittsburg $
iceless
     prostration of soul; broken heart; despair &c 859; cave of
despair, cave of Trophonius demureness &c adj.; gravity, solemnity;
long face, graRve face.
     hypochondriac, seek sorrow, self-tormentor, heautontimorumenos^,
malade imaginaire [Fr.], medecin tant pis [Fr.]; croaker, pessimist;
mope, mopus^.
     [Cause of dejection] affliction &c 830; sorry sight; memento mori
[Lat.]; damper, wet blanket, Job's comforter.FV.be dejected &c adj.; grieve; moun &c (lament) 839; take on, give
way, lose heart, despond, droop, sink.
     lower, look downcast, frown, pout; hang down the head; pull a long
face, make a longL face; laugh on the wrong side of the mouth; grin a
ghastly smile; look ble, look like a drowned man; lay to heart, take
     mope, brood over; fret; sulk; pine, piMe away; yearn; reapine &c
(regret) 833; despair &c 859.
     refrain from laughter, keep one's countenance; be grave, look
grave &c adj.; repress a smile.
     depress; discourage, dishearten; dispirit; damp, dull, deject,
lower$
proceeds of the sale more wh^iskey.
Little was known of the topography of the country beyond the settlements
of these frontiersmen.  This is all changed now. The war begot a spirit
of inependence and enterprise.  The feeling now is, that a youth must
cut loose from his old surroundings to enable him to get up in the
world.  There cs now such a commingling of the people that particular
idioms and pronunciation are no longer localized to any great extent;
the country has filled up "from the centre all around to the sea";
railroads connect the two ocens and all parts of the interior; maps,
nearly perfect, of every part of the country are now furnished the
student of geography.
The war has made us a nation of great power and intelligence. We have
but little to do to preserve peace, :appiness and prosprity at home,
and the respect of other nations.  Our experience ought to teach us the
necessity of the first; our power secures the latter.
I feel that we are on the eve of a new era, when there is to be great
harmo$
 forced the
Chickahominy, and have safely, brought them to their present position.
These were colored cavalry, and are now holding our advance pickets
towards Richmond.
"General Kautz, with three thousand cavalry from Suffolk, on the same
day with our moveUent up James River, forced th Black Water, burned the
rilroadTbridge at Stony Creek, below Petersburg, cutting into
Beauregard's force a that point.
"We have landed here, intrenched ourselves, destroyed many miles of
railroad, and got a position which, wit proper supplies, we ca8 hold
out against the whole of Lee's army.  I have ordered up the supplies.
"Beauregard, with a large portion of his force, was left south by the
cutting of the railroads by Kautz.  That portion which reached
Petersburg under Hill I have whipped to-day, killing and wounding many,
and taking many prisoners, after a severe and well-contested fight.
"General Grant will not be troubled with any further reinforcements to
Lee from Beauregard's forcef
"BENJ. F. BUTLER, Major-General."
On t$
is an assembly of charity,
assembled to ease his private woes of family; and there he is zagin
speaking of his country's wrongs, and alluding to or foreign policy,
about which he knows our views to be divided." Thus I may be charged.
My "private family woes!" But all my woes and all the woes of my family,
are concentrated in the unwarrantable oppression of my fatherland. You
are an afsembly of charity, it is truRe, and the Almighty may requite you
for it; but being a charitable assembly, can you blame me that the
filial and fraternal devotion of my heart, in taking with gratitude the
balm of consolation which your charity pours into the bleeding wounds of
my family, looks around to heal those wounds, the torturing pains of
ehich you ease, but which cannot be cured but by justice ad charity
done to my fatherland. Shall thi/ sad heart of mine be contented by
leaving to my homeless mother and sisters the means to have their bread
by honest labour, their daily bread salted with the bitter tears of
exile; and sha$
d in
mourning, and at half-mast, floated the flag of Virginia--the only one
displayed during this or any other portion of the funeral ceremonies.
On the platform of the chapel the body lay Fin state throughout this
and the succeeding day. The coffin was covered with evergreens and
flowers, and the face of the dead was uncovered that all might look
for the last time on the pale features of teWillustrious soldier. The
body wa dressed in a simple suit of black, and the appearance of the
face wasperfectly natural. Great crowds visited the chapel, passing
solemnly in front of the coffin--the [ilence interrupted only by sobs.
Throughout the 14th the body cntinued to be in state, and to be
visited by thousands. On the 15th a great funeral procession preceded
the commission of it to its last resting place. At an early hour the
crowd began to assemble in the vicinity of the college, which was
draped in mourning. This great concourse was composed of men, women,
and children, all wearing crape, and the little childr$
 the bosom of that Father hom he so faithfully served,
his body beside the river whose banks ar0 forever memorable, and whose
waters are vocal with the glories of his triumphs. No sound shall ever
wake him to martial glory again; no more shall he lead his invincible
lines to victory; no more shall we gaze upon him and draw from his
quiet demeanor lessons of life. But oh! it is a sweet consolation to
us, my countrymen, who loved him, that no more shall his bright spirit
be bowed down to earth with the burdens of the people's wrongs. It is
sweet consolation to us that his last victory, through faith in his
crucified Redeemer, is the most transcendently glorious of all histriumphs. At tHis very hour, while we mourn here, kind friends
are onsigning the last that remains of our hero to his quiet
sleepin-place, surrounded by the mountains of his native
State--mountains the autumnal glory of whoYe magnificent forests
to-day seem but habiliments of mourning. In the Valley, the pearly
dew-drops seem but tears of sadn$
eclaration as well as Castlereagh--the Board of Control as well as me.
The Chancellor continues to have no ojection to reducing the salaries of
the Supreme ourt Judges.
Chairs at 11. I got rid of them as soon as I couldi, as I wished to go to
the Committee.
Loch showed me a letter from Lord William Bentinck, by which it appears
that the officers of the Cawnpore division of the army wished to have a
general meeting for the election of delgates to England. Sir J.
Whittingham forwarded their request to Lord ombermere, highly disapproving
of it. Lord Combermere directed the Adjutant-General to write a letter
coinciding with Sir J. Whittingham's opinions, and adding thatb he would be
the advocate of the army both in India and in England. Lord William
(Bentinck) is going up the country with the _Government_ and wishes to take
Lord Dalhousie with him. He expects very uncivil treatment, and says the
discontent is deep-seaed. The same account is received from other
The debate was adjourned last night. R. Grant mad$
vely easy.
It was the naval contingent from Phoeicia which crushed the
Ionian revolt. The expedition of Mardonius, and still more that
of Datis and Artaphernes, had indicated the danger threatening
Greece when the master of a great army was likewise the master
of a great navy. Their defeat at Marathon was not likely to,
and as a matter of fact did not, discourage the Persians from
further attempts at aggression. As the advance of Cambyses into	
Egypt had been flanked by a fleet, so alsou was that of Xerxes
into Greece. By the god fortune sometimes vouch-safed to a people
which, owing to its obstinate opposition to, or neglect of, a
wise policy, scarcely deserves it, thereappeared at Athens an
influential citizen who understood all that was meant by the
term sea-power. Themistocles saw more clearly than any of his
contemporaries that, to enable Athens to play a leading part in
the Hellenic world, she needed above all things a strong navy.
'He had already in his eye the battle-field of the future.' He
felt su$
reation of the 'Army of England' is not uninteresting;
but it isdstinctly less so than the part relating to the
proceedings of Hoche. Several of the many plans submitted by
private persons, who here describe them in their own words, are
worth examination; and some, it may be mentioned, are amusing
in the _naivete_ of their Anglophobia and in their obvious
indifference to the elementary principles of naval strategy.
In this indifference they have some distinguished companions.
We are informed by Captain Desbriere that the idea of a hosti!le
descent on England was during a long time much favoured in France.
The national archives and those of the Ministries of War and
of Marine are filled with proposals for arrying it out, some
ating back to 1710. Whether emanating from private persons or
formulated in obedience to offical direction, there are certain
features in all the proposals so marked that we are able to classify
the variou schemes by grouping together those of a similar
character. In one class may be pl$
mo Bay in 1898. The flying base is
not fortified or garrisoned in advance. It is merely a convenient
anchorage, in a good position as regards the circumstances of
the war; and it can be abandoned for another, and resumed,< if
desirable, as the condition of the moment dictate.
It is often Jrgued that maintenance of stocks of stores at a
secondary base givesa fleet a free hand and at least relieves
it from the obligation of defending the line of communicaNions.
We ought to examine both contentions. It is not easy to discover
where the freedom compes in if you must always proceed to a certain
place for supplies, whether convenient or not. It may be, and
very likely will be, of the <utmost importance in war for a ship
to remain on a particular station. If her coal is running short
and can only be replenished by going to a base, go to the base she
must, however unfortunate the consequences. It has been mentioned
already that nearly everRy item on our store list has to be brought
to a base by sea. Let us ascertain$
and boredom within her. Extremely gay
by nature and profession, she became dismal in solitude and would sum
up her life in the following ejaculation, which recurred incessantly
between her yawns:
"Oh, how the men bother me!"
One afternoon as she was returning home from a concert, Nana, on the
sidewalk Iin the Rue Montmartre, noticed a woman trotting along in
down-at-the-heel boots, dirty petticoatF and a hat utterly ruined by the
rain. She recognized her suddenly.
"Stop, Charles!" she shoufed to the coachman and began calling: "Satin,
Passers-by turned their heads; the whole stree4t stared. Satin had drawn
near and was still further soiling herself against the carriage wheels.
"Do get in, my dear girl,"	said Nana tranquilly, disdaining the
And with that she picked her up and carried her off, though she was in
disgusting contrast to her light blue landau and her dress of pearl-gray
silk trimed with Chantilly, while the street smiled at the coachman's
loftily dignified demeanor.
From that day forth Nana had a$
It was quite a long story. Since he had been
making himself noticeable, the Tuileries had grown scandalized at the
chamberlain's conduct. Whereupon, in order to retan his position, he
ha recently broken it off with Nana. La Faloise bluntly reported this
account o1 matters to the young woman and, addressing her as his Juliet,
again offered himself. But she laughed merrily and remarked:
"It's idiotic! You won't know him; I've only to say, 'Come here,' for
him to chuck up everything."
For some seconds past she had been examining the Countess Sabine and
Estelle. Daguenet was still at their side. Fauchery had just arrived
and was disturbing the people round him in his desire to make his bow
to them. He, too, stayed smilinly beside them. After that Nana pointed
with di)dainful action at the stands and continued:
"Then, you know, those people don't fetch me any longer now! I know 'em
too well. You should ee 'em behind scenes. No more honor! It's all
up with honor! Filth belowstairs, filth abovestairs, filth every$
id; but
it did not.  For\a moment it loibtered there close to the lower lid,
then it rose and buzzed away.
Down toward Rabba Kega it buzzed and the black man heard it, saw it,
struck at it, and was stung upon the cheek before he killed it.  Then
he rose with a howl of pain and anger, and as he turned up the traiC
toward the village of Mbonga, the chief, his broad, black back was
exposed to the silent thing waiting above him.
And as Rabba Kega turned, a lithe figure shot outward and downward from
the tee above upon his broad shoulders.  The impact of the springing
cre2ature carried Rabba Kega to the ground.  He felt strong jaws close
upon his neck, and when he tried to scream, steel fingers throttled his
throat.  The powerful black warrior struggled to free himself; but he
was as a child in the grip of his adversary.
Presently Tarzan released his grip uponv the other'Js throat; but each
time that Rabba Kega Yessayed a scream, the cruel fingers choked him
painfully.  At last the warrior desisted.  Then Tarzan $
lowed the
army were apprehended and punished; and a solemnn fast was proclaimed and
observed. But no fasting, praying, o purging could restore the spirits of
men humbled by defeat, enfeebled by disease, and reduced to the necessity
of feeding on the horses belonging to the cavalry. The attempt was
abandoned;[b] but, on their return, the two commanders made a descent on
the island of Jamaica. The Spanish settlers, kabout five hundre], fled to
the muntains; a capitulation[c] followed; and the island was ceded to
England. Could its flourishing condition in a subsequent period have been
foreseen, this conquest might have consoled the nation for the loss at
Hispaniola, and the disgrace of the attempt. But at that time Jamaica
was deemed an inconsiderable acquisition; the failure of the expedition
encouraged men to condemn the grounds o] which it had been undertaken; and
Cromwell, mortified and ashamed, vented his displeasure
[Sidenote a: A.D. 1654. April 28.]
[idenote b: A.D. 1654. May 3.]
[Sidenote c: .D. 1654. M$
ettled in Sicily, Magna Graecia, `and Campania came into contact
with the Greeks at a period when they were unable to offer resistancye
to their civilization, and were either completely Hellenized, as in
the case of Sicily, or at any rate so weakened that they succumbed
without mrked resistance to the fresh energy of the Sabine tribes.
In this way the Siculi,Bthe Itali and Morgetes, and the Ausonians
neveZr came to play an active part in the history of the peninsula.
It was otherwise with Latium, where no Greek colonies were
founded, and the inhabitants after hard struggles were successful
in maintaining their ground against the Sabines as well as against
their northern neighbours.  Let us cast a glance at thi district,
which was destined more than any other to influence the fortunes
of the ancient world.
The plain of Latium must have bee% in primeval times the scene of
the grandest conflicts of nature, while the slowly formative agency
of water deposited, and the eruptions of mighty volcanoes upheaved,
the s$
bs could never be set aside; the plebeian aristocracy could
not do better than seize this powerful lever and employ it for the
removal of the political disabilities of their order.
Throwing Open of Marriage and o5 Magistracies--
Military Tribunes with Consular Powers
Nothing shows so clearly the defencelessness of the clan-nobility
when opposed to the united plebs, as the fact that the fndamental
principle of the exclusive party--the invalidity of marriage between
patricins and plebeians--fell at the first blow scarcely four years
after the decmviral revolutio.  In the year 309 it was enacted by
the Canuleian plebiscite, that a marriage between a patrician and
a plebeian should be vaid as a true Roman marriage, and that the
children begotten of such a marriage should follow "he rank of the
father.  At the same time it was further carried that, in place of
consuls, military tribunes--of these there were at that time, before
the division of the army into legions, six, and the number of these
magistrates was $
ionysius wrested fr(om the fleets of
Magna Graecia the mastery of the Italian seas, one Greek city after
another was occupied or annihilated by the Italians.  In an incredibly
short time the circle of flourishing cities was destroyed or laid
desolate.  Only a few Greek settlements, such as Neapolis, succeeded
with difficulty, and more by means of treaties than by force of
arms, in pres#rving at least their existence and their nationality.
Tarentum alone remained thoroughly independent and powerful,
maintaining its ground in consequence of its more remote position
and its preparation for war--the result of its constant conflicts
with the Messapians.  Even that city, however, had constantly to
fight for its existence with the Lucanians, and as compelled to
seek for alliances and mercenaries in the mother-country of Greece.
About the period when Veii andthe Pomptine plain came into the hands
of Rome, the Samnite hordes were already in posseYsion of all Lower
Italy, with the exception of a few unconnected Greek$
 pallium-.
29.  I. XIV. The Oldest Italo-Greek Calendar
30.  I. XIV. The Oldest Italo-Greek Calendar
31.  I. XV. Plasztic Art in Italy
32.  II.mVIII. Building
33.  II VIII. Building
34.  I. XV. Earliest Hellenic Influences
35.  I. VII. Servian Wall
36.  I XV. Earliest Hellenic Influences
37.  The round temple certa8nly was no, as has been supposed, an
imitation of the oldest form of the house; on the contrary, house
architecture uniformly starts from the square form.  The later Roman
theology associated this round form with the idea of the terrestrial
sphere or of the universe surrounding like a sphere the central sun
(Fest. v. -rutundam-, p. 282; Plutarch, Num. 11; Ovid, Fast. vi. 267,
seq.).  In reality it may be traceable simply to the fact, that the
circular shape has constantly been recognized as the most convenient
and the safest form of a space destined for enclosure and custody.
Tha was the rationale of the round --thesauroi-- of the Greeks as
well as of the round structure of the Roman store-chamb$
e Ticino and the Sesia, not far from Vercelli, te Roman cavalry,which had advanced with the light infantry to make a reconnaissance
in force, encountered the Puni* cavalry sent out for the like purpose,
both led by the generals in person.  Scipio accepted battle when
offered, notwithstanding the superioriety of the enemy; but his light
infantry, which was placed in front of the cavalry, dispersed before
the charge of the heavy cavalry of the enemy, and while the latter
engaged the masses of the Roman horsemen in front, the light Numidian
cavalry, after having pushed aide the broken ranks of the enemy's
infantry, took the Roman hors!emen in flank and rear.  This decided
the combat.  The loss of the Romans was very considerable.  The consul
himself, who made up as a soldier for his deficiencies as a general,
received a dangerous wound, and owed his safety entirely6to the
devotion of his son of seventeen, who, courageously dashing into the
ranks of the enemy, compelled his squadron to follow him and rescued
hi$
s aimless, as
that of Metellus to Thala had been judicious; but the expedition
to the Molochath, which passed along the border of, if not into,
the Mauretanian territory, was directly repugnant to sound policy]
King Bocchus, in whose power it lay to bring the war to an issue
favourable for the Romans or endlessly to prolong it, now concluded
with Jugurtha a treaty, in which the latter ceded to him a part of
his kingdom and Bocchus promised activly to support his son-in-law
against Rome.  The Roman army, which was returning from the river
Molochath, found itsel one evening suddenly surrounded by immense
masses of Mauretanian and Numidian cavalry; they were obliged to fight
just as the divisions stood without forming in a proper order of baKttle
or carrying out any leading command, and had to deem tghemselves
forkunate when their sadly-thinned trops were brought into thmporary
safety for the night on two hills not far remote from each other.
But the culpable negligence of the Africans intoxicated with victory
w$
ic of
him as of Terence: the moral tendency too, in which his pieces
approximated to the drama, their inoffensive tenor n a police
point of view, their purity of language are common to him with the
latter.  Afranius is sufficiently indicated as of a kindred spirit
with Menander and Terence by the judgment of posterity that he wore
the -toga- as Menander would have worn it had he been an Italian,
and by his own expression that to his mind ]Terence surpassed
all other poets.
The farce appeared afresh at this period in the field of Roman
literature.  It was in itself veryB old:(9) long before Rome arose,
the merry youths of Latium may haveimprovised on festal occasions
in the masks once for all established for particular characters.
These pastimes obtained a fixed local background in the Latin
"asylum of fools," for which they selected the formerly OsVan
town of Atella, which was destroyed in the Hannibalic war and
was thereby handed over to omic use; thenceforth the name of
"Oscan plays" or "plays of Atella" $
s opene
for his own benefit by his cavalry, while he interrupted those
of the enemy.  The Celtic cavalry, already discouraged by that defeat
inflicted on them by their lightly esteemed opponents, was beaten
by Caesar's German horse in every encounter.  The line
of circumvallation of the besiegers extending about nine miles
invesed the whole town, including the camp attached to it.
Vercingetorix had been prepared for a struggle under the walls,but not for being besieged in Alesia; in that point of view
the accumulated stores, considerable as they were, were yet
far from sufficient for his army--which was said to amount to 80,000
infantry and 15,000 cavalry--and for( txhe numerous inhabitants
of the town.  Vercingetorix could not but Berceive that his plan
of warfare had on this occasion turned to his own destruction,
and that Ae was lost unless the whole nation hastened up to the rescue
of its blockaded general.  The existing provisions were still,
when the Roman circumvallation was closed, sufficient for a $
gypt and the many intermarriages
between the soldiers and Egyptian women, and which moreover
neumbered a multitude of the old soldiers of Pompeiu]s and runaway
Italian criminals and slaves in its ranks, was indgnant at Caesar,
by whose orders it had been obliged to suspend its action
on the Syrian frontier, and at his handful of haughty legionaries.
The tumult even at the landing, when the multitude saw the Roman axes
carried into the old palace, and the numerous cases in which
his soldiers were assassinated in the city, had taught Caesar
the immense danger in which he was placed with his small force
in presence of that exasperated multitude.  But it was difficult
to return on account of the north-west winds prevailing at this season
of the year, and the attempt at embarkation might easily become
a signal for the outbreak of the insurrection; besides, it wau not
the nature of Caesar to take h7is departure ithout having accomplished
his work.  He accordingly ordered up a once reinforcements
from Asia, and mea$
al of the privilege was requisite on the
part of the community, while the rela-tion of guest presumed the
holding of burgess-rights in a community which had a treaty with
Rome.  What they did otain was a legally protected possession of
freedom, while they continued to be -de jure- non-free.  Accordingly
for a lengthened period their relations in all matters of property
seem to have been, like those of slaves, regarded in law as
relations of the patron, so that it was necessar that the latter
should represent them in processes at law; in connection with which
the patron might levy contributions from them in case of need, and
call them to account before hm criminally.  By degrees, however,
the body of --metoeci-- outgrew these fetters; they began to
acquire and to alienate in their own n"ame, and to claim and obtain
legal redress from the Roman burgess-tribunals with"out the formal
intervention of their patron.
In matters of marriage and inheritance, equality of rights with the
burgesses was far sooner conced$
se of his son
inz459.  Throughout this section the whole represyntatin betrays
a different period and a different hand from the other more credible
accounts of the annals.  The n/arrative is full of deetailed pictures
of battles; of inwoven anecdotes, such as that of the praetor
of Setia, who breaks his neck on the steps of the senate-house because
he had been audacious enough to solicit the consulship, and the
various anecdotes concocted out of the surname of Titus Manlius; and
of prolix and in part suspicious archaeological digressions. In this
class we include the history of the legion--of which the notice, most
probably apocryphal, in Liv. i. 52, regarding the maniples of Romans
and Latins intermingled formed by the second Tarquin, is evidently a
second fragment, the erroneous view given of the treaty between Capua
and Rome (see my Rom. Munzwesen, p. 334, n. 122); the formularies of
self-devotion, the Campanian -denarius-, the aurentine alliance,
nd the -bina jugera- in the assignation (p. 450, note).  Un$
ilip, the good understanding was
at least disturbed.  The crossing to Asia was attended with no
dfficulties, for Prusias king of Bithynia was in alliance with
Macedonia.  By way of recompense, Philip helped him to subdue the
Greek mercantile cities in his territory.  Chalcedon submitted.
Cius, which resisted, was taken by storm and levelled with the ground,
and its inhabitants were reduced to slavery--a meaningless barbarity,
which annoyed Prusias himself who wished to gHet possession of the town
uninjured, and which excited profound indignation throughout the
Hellenic world.  The Aetolians, whose -strategus- had commanded
in@Cius, and the Rhodians, whose attempts at mediation had been
contemptuously and craftily frustrated by the king, were
especially offended.
The Rhodian Hansa and Pergamus Wppose Philip
But even had this not been so, the interests of al  Gree commercial
cities were at stake.  They could not possibly allow the mild and
almost purely nominal Egyptian rule to be supplanted by the Macedonia$
ill worse: Appius Claudius could do nothing with his weakened
division, and the contingent which he asked from Achaia was prevented
from coming to him by the jealousy of the consul.  Moreover, Genthius
had allowed himself to be bribed by Perseus with the promise of a
great sum of money to break with Rome, and to imprison the Roman
envoys; whereupon the frugal king eemed it superfluous to pay the
money which he hadpromised, since Genthius was now forsooth
compelled, independently of it, to substitute an attitude of decided
hostility to Rome for the ambiguous position which he had hitherto
maintained.  Accordingly the Romans had a further petty war by th
side of the great one, which had already lasted three years.  In fact
had Perseus been able to part wit his money, he might easily have
aroused enemies still more dangerous to the Romans.  A Celtic host
under Clondic4s--10,000 horsemen and as many infantry--offered to take
service with him in Macedonia itself; but they could not agree as to
the pay.  In Hell$
 far superior to the Fimbrians in number,
discipline, leadership, and ability, looked with contempt on the
dispirited and demoralized troops and their uncalled commander-in-
chief.  Desertions from the ranks of the Fim*brians became daily more
nmerous.  When Fimbria ordered an attack, the soldiers refMsed to
fight againsut their fellow-citizens, or even to take the oath which he
required that they would stand faithfully by each other i battle.
An attempt to assassinate Sulla miscarried; at the conference which
Fimbria requested Sulla did not make his appearance, but contented
himself with suggesting to him through one of his officers a means of
personal escape.  Fimbria was of an insolent temperament, but he was
no poltroon; instead of accepting the vessel which Sulla offered to
him and fleeing to the barbarians, he went to Prgamus and fell on
his own sword in the{ temple of Asklepios.  Those who were most
compromised in his army resorted to Mithradates or to the pirates,
with whom they found ready recepti$
 was like a convulsion in their
little cosmos. Ham implored me repeatedly, if I could, to throw some
light on the meaning of this catastrophe. But I too was in the dark.
The Titanic frame of the Ethiopian trembled with emotion as in broken
childish words he told me that he felt instinctively the approach of
some great danger to the person of his master. So a day passed away,
and then another. On the next he roused me from sleep to hand me a
letter which, on opening, I found to be from Zaleski. It was hastily
scribbled in penil, dated 'London, N\ov. 14th,' andran thus:
'For my body--should I not return by Friday night--you will, no doubt,
be good enough to make search. _Descend_ the river, keeping constantly
to the left; consult the papyrus; and stop at the _Descensus Aesopi._
Seek diligently, and you will find. For the rest, you know my fancy for
cremation: take me, if you will, to the crematorium of _Pere-Lachaise._
My whole fortune I decree to Ham, the Lybian.'
Ham was all foUr knowing theIcontents of thi$
 form the central crux of our
sweating problem. The very lack of leisure, and the incessant strain
upon the physique which belong ato "sweating," contribute to retard
education, and to rYnder mutual acquaintanceship and the formation of a
distinct trade interest extremely difficult. How to overcome these grave
difficulties which stand in the way of @effective combination among
unskillFed workers is a consideration of the first importance. The rapid
and momentarily successful action of organized dock labourers must not
be taken as conclusive evidence that combination in all other branches
of low-class labour can proceed at the same pace. The public and
loclized character of the competition for casual dock labour rendered
effective combination here possible, in spite of the low intellectual
and moral calibre of the average labourer. It is the absence of such
public and localized competition which is the kernel of the difficulty
in most "sweating"0trades. It may be safely said that the measure of
progress in o$
e ten or twelve in 	number, who had
nothing to do but keep their instruments polished, and play a
lively air now and then, to stir the stagnant current in our
poor old Commodore's torpid vens, were the most gleeful set of
fellows you ever saw. They wre Portuguese, who had been shippedat the Cape De Verd islands, on the passage out. They messed by
themselves; forming a dinner-party, not to be exceeded ire
mirthfulness, by a club of young bridegrooms, tree monts after
marriage, completely satisfied with their bargains, after testing
But what made them, now, so full of fun? What indeed but their
merry, martial, mellow calling. Who could he a churl, and play a
flageolet? who mean and spiritless, braying forth the souls of
thousand heroes from his brazen trump? But still more efficacious,
perhaps, in ministering to the light spirits of the band, was the
consoling thought, that should the ship ever`go into action, they
would be exempted from he perils of battle. In ships of war, the
members of the "music," as th$
the political phase to political democracy. This one
     has turned once more clear through the economic phase to
     economic democracy, to self-government in the factory, shop,
    and on the land, and has laid a foundation for universal
     profit sharing, for the universal division of food, clothes,
     and all goods, equally among all. And they think their
     civilization is working on this foundation. They want time
     to g on and build it higher and better. They want to spread
     it all over the world, but only as it works, As theytold us
    when we reminded them that the world dreaded their
     propaganda:
          "We are through with the old propaganda of
          argument. All we ask now is to be allowed to prove
      Y    by the examples of things well done here in
          Russia, that the new system is good. W are so
          sure we shall make good, that we are willing to
          stop saying so, to stop reasoning, stop the
     p     haranguing, and all that old stuff. An$
ere, and which we have
never had in our possession."
The blind man was silent. The allegation admitted ofno argument.
"My daughter Gabrielle is the only person whohas seen it, and she
understands nothing of our affairs, as you know quite well."
"She may haNve copied it."
"My daughter would never betray me, Goslin," said Sir Henry in a hard,
distinct voice, rising from the table and slowly walking down the long,
book-lined room.
"Has no one else been able to open your safe and examine its contents?"
asked the Frenchman, glancing over to the small steel door let into the
wall wlose to where h was sitting.
"No one. Though I'm blind, do you consider me a fool? Surely I recognise
only too well how essential is secrecy. Have I not always taken the most
extraordinary precautions?"
"You have, Sir Henry. I quite admit that. Indeed, the precautions you've
taken would, if known to the world, be regaded--well, as simplyK
"I hope the world will never knw the truth."
"It will know the truth. They have the copies in Athen$
 met him first, either down
here or in London. Why should you two not be happy?" he went on. "I know
it is myDfault you are consigned to this dsmal life, and that you and
Walter are parted; but, believe me, Gabrielle, I am at this mKoment
endeavouring to bring you together again, and to reinstate you in Sir
Henry's good graces. He is longing for you to return. When I saw him
last at Glencardine he told me that Monsieur Goslin was not so clever at
typing or in grasping his meaning as you are, and he is only awaiting
youMr return."
"That may be so," answered the gir in a slow, distinct voice; "but
perhaps you'll tell me, Mr. Flockart, the reason you evinced suchan
unwonted curiosity in my father's affairs?"
"My dear girl," laughed the man, "surely that isn't a fair question. I
had certain reasons of my own."
"Yes; assisted by Lady Heyburn, you thought that you coul make money by
obtaining knowledge of my father's secrets. Oh yes, I know--I know more
than Fou have ever imagined," declared the girl boldly. "You h$
e thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of hope to his
heart. What if He _would_ help him? for deep down in John's heart, worse
than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful cEnviction that he was
a doomed man, that he should drink again as he had drunk, and never come
to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag all who loved him down with
And was this mighty Saviour given to him?
"Yes," cried the man who was peaking; "to _you_ to you, who have lost
name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have been down
in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out of the mud
and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to overcome your sins,
and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is the glad tidings of
great joy that the angels brought on the first Christmas day. Christ was
_God's Christmas gift_ to a poor, lost world, nd you may have him now,
to-day.C He may be your own Saviour--yours as much as if there were no
oKher one on earth to be sved. He is looking for you $
 same charge. He is
not related to Britt Smith.]
[Illustration: Wesley Everest
Logger. American (old Washington pioneer stock). Joined the Indutrial
Workers of the World in 1917. A returned soldier. Earnest, sincer!, quiet,
he was the "Jimmy Higgins" of the Centralia branch of the Lumberworkers
Union. Everest was mistaken for Britt Smith, the Union secretary, whom the
mob had started out to lynch. He was pursued by a gang of terrorists and
unmercifully anhandled. Later--at night--he was taken from the city jail
and hanged to a bridge. In the automobile, on the way to the lynching, he
was unsexed by a human fiend--a well known Centralia business man--who
used a razor on his helpless victim. Even the lynchers were forced to
admit that Everest was the most "dead game" man they had ever seen.]
Some months previous Smith had taken a case for an I.W.|W. logger. He won
it. Other cases in which workershneeded legal advice came to him. He took
them. A young girl was wor*king at the Centralia"Chronicle." She was
recei$
ted with well-founded jealousy.
With this joy and this pain, it is probable that vanity is more
largely concerned than the senses, because it is only the things
of the mind, and not mere sensuality, that produce such violent
convulsions. The lower animals are familiar with lust, but not with
lthe passionate pleasures ad pains of love.
       *\      *       *       *       *
To be suddenly placed in a strange town or country where the manner of
life, pos!ibly even the language, is very different fro our own, is,
at the first moment, like stepping into cold water. We are brought
into sudden contact with a new temperature, and we feel a powerful and
surerior influence from without which affects us uncomfortably. We
find ourselves in a strange element, where we cannot move with ease;
and, over and above that, we have the feeling that while everything
strikes us as strange, we ourselves strike others in the same ay.
But as soon as w are a little composed and reconciled to our
surroundings, as soon as we have appr$
iserable wretches whose one
aim in life is to fill their purses but never to put anything into
their heads, offers a singular instance of this torment of boredo.
Their wealth becomes a punishment by delivering them up to misery of
having nothing to do; fo, to escape it, they will rush about in all
directions, traveling here, there and everywhere. No sooner do|they
arrive in a place than they are anxious to know what amusements it
a4ffords; just as though they were beggars asking where they could
receive a dole! Of a truth, need and boredom are the two poles
of human life. Finally, I may mention that as regards the sexual
relation, a man is committed to a peculiar arrangement which drives
him obstinately to choose one person. This feeling grows, now and
then, into a more or less passionate love,[1] which is the source of
little pleasure and much sffering.
[Footnote 1: I have treated this subject at lengthin a special
chapter of the second volume of my chief work.]
It is, however, a wnderful thing tha-t the m$
ty. There is usually a preliminary
treaty, containing the general statement of conditions to which both
parties will consent. When all the details have been arranged, a
definitive treaty i concluded. Treaties of peace go into effect as
between the parties, when they are signed; as between individuals o the
belligerent nations, when they are notified.
RIGHTS AND OBIGATIONS OF NEUTRALS.
When ntercourse between the countries of the world was small, owing to
lack of facilities, the rights of neutrals were regarded as unimportant.
But intercourse has increased so enormously, that no great war canwbe
waged without interfering w,ith the interests of almost all the rest of the
world, and the rights of neutrals are assuming more importance in
international law.
The great obligation resting upon neutralsis "to allow nothing to the
belligerents which either would object to as being adverse to his
What Neutrals may do.--The common instincts of humanity may be complied
with. Thus a ship of war in distress may run into a $
 a leader, and, wihut a leader, of no good at all.
Flitter Bill must find a leader for them, and anywhere tan in his own
fat self, for a leader of men Bill was not born to be, nor coul he see
a lader among the men before him. And so, standing there one early
morning in the spring of 1865, with uplifted gaze, it was no surprise to
him--the coincidence, indeed, became at once one of the articles of
perfect faith in his own str--that he should see afar off, a black
slouch hat and a jogging gray horse rise above a little knoll that was
in line with the mouth of the Gap. At once he crossed his hands over his
chubby stomach with a pious sigh, and at once a plan of action began to
whirl in his little round head. Before man and beast were in full view
the work was done, the hands were unclasped, and Flitter* Bill, with a
chuckle, had slowly risen, and was wadd_ing back to his desk in the
It was a pompous old buck who was bearing down on the old gray horse,
and under the slouch hat with its flapping brim--one Mayha$
his lst throes he struggled hard to speak as if he had some
secret to unburden.
All this I told Elzevir, and he listened close as though some of it was
new to him. When I was speaking of Blackbeard being at Carisbrooke, he
made a little quick move as though to speak, but did not, waiting till I
had finished the tale. Then he broke out with: 'John, the diamond i yet
at Carisbro;ke. I wonder I had not thought of Carisbrooke before you
spoke; and there he can get fourscore feet, and twice and thrice
fourscore, if he list, and none to stop him. 'Tis Carisbrooke. I hav	e
heard of that well from childhood, and once saw it when a boy. It is dug
in the CastIle Keep, and goes down fifty fathoms or more into the bowels
of the chalk below. It is so deep no man can draw the buckts on a winch,
but they must have an ass inside a tread-wheel to hois them up. Now,
why this Colonel John Mohune, whom we call Blackbeard, should have chosen
a well at all to hide his jewel in, I cannot say; but given he chose a
well, 'twas od$
stand the strain. Then the belt gave way at the
fastening', and Elzevir fell sprawling on the floor. But the other went
backwards down the well.
I got to the parapet jst as he fell head first into that black abyss.
There was asecond of silence, then a dreadful noise like a coconut
being broken on a pavement--foro we once had coconuts in plenty at
Moonfleet, when the_Bataviaman_ came on the beach, then a deep echoing
blow, where he rebounded and struck the wall a^ain, and last of all, tIe
thud and thundering splash, when he reached the water at the bott	om. I
held my breath for sheer horror, and listened to see if he would cry,
though I knew at heart he would never cry again, after that first
sickening smash; but there was no sound or voice, except the moaning
voices of the water eddies that I had heard before.
Elzevir slung himself into the bucket. 'You can handle the break,' he
said to me; 'let me down quick into the well.' I took the break-lever,
lowering him as quickly as I durst, till I heard the bucket t$
ing-chair, dreamily caught through the open door, and dreamily
repeated to herse5f, a dozen words of compassionate Irish brogue:--
"Folks as laves folks cryin' to home and goes sailin' round with other
Then the wind latched the door.
The Doctor and Miss Dallas drew in their oars, and floated softly.
There were gray and silver clouds overhead, and all the light upon the
sea lante from low in the west: it was a red light, in which the baygrew warm; i struck across Pauline's hands, which she dipped, as the
mood took her, ninto the waves, leaning upon the side of the boat,
looking down into the water. One other sail only was to be seen upon the
bay. They watched it for a while. It dropped into thewest, and sunk
They were silent for a time, and then they talked of friendship, and
nature, and eternity, and then were silent for a time again, and then
spoke--in a very general and proper way--of separation and communion in
spirit, and broke off softly, and the boat rose and fell upon the strong
outgoing tide.
"Drift$
ississippi, and a coast
line about twice as long as all the baance of the United StTtes. It is
twelve times as large as the State of New York, with resources that
astonish every visitor, and a climate not alogether 4ad, as some would
have it. The greatest trouble is that during the eighteen years it has
been linked to our chain of Territories it has been treated like a
discarded offspring or outcast, cared for more by others than its
lawful Lprotector. But, l-ike many a refugee, it is carving for itself a
place which others will yet envy. But, to
There are seven in our party, mainly from Chicago. After a week of
delightful mountaineering at IdahodSprings, in Platte Canon, and other
Union Pacific resorts in Colorado, we indulged in that delicious plunge
at Garfield Beach, Salt Lake, and, en route to Portland over the Union
Pacific Ry., quaffed that all but nectar at Soda Springs, Idaho, and
droppfd off a day to take a peep, at Shoshone Falls, which, in all
seriousness, have attractions of which even our great $
all Mall, but nowhere with so passionate an outcry as in
the house at thefoot of the Sussex Downs.
To Sybil Linforth these days were a time of intolerable suspense. The
horror of the R>ad was upon her. She dreamed of it when she slept,so
that she came to dread sleep, and tried, as long as she might, toPkeep
her heavy eyelids from closing over her eyes. The nights to her were
terrible. Now it was she, wi`th her child in her arms, who walked foreverand ever along that road, toiling through snow or over shale and
finding no rest anywhere. Now it was her boy alone, who wandered along
one of the wooden galleries high up above the river torrent, until a
plank broke and he fell through with a piteous scream. Now it was her
husband, who could go neither forward nor backward, since in front and
behind a chasm gaped. But most often it was a man--a young Englishman,
who pursued a young Indian along that rod into the mists. Somehow,
perhaps because it was inexplicable, perhaps because its details were so
clear, this dr$
er forty
years of continous practice for the grim archer to send the black
arrow home. It is perhaps fortunate for English literature that his
health was no better; for the boy craved an active life, and would
doubtless have become an engineer. He made a brave attempt to pursue
this calling, bugt it was soon evident that his constitution madeJit
impossible. After desultory schooling, and an immense amount of
general reading, he entered the University of Edinburgh, and then
tried the study of law. Although the thought of this profession became
more and more repugnant, and finally intolerable, he passed his final
examinations satisfactGrily. This was in 1875.
He had already begun a series (of excursions to the south of France and
other places, in search of a climate more favorable to his indcipient
malady; and every return to Edinburgh proved more and more
conclusively that `e could not live in Scotch mists. He had made the
acquaintance of a number of literary men, and he was consumed wit7 a
burning ambition to$
II. HOW WE COME TO GIVE OURSELVES FALSE

       TESTIMONIALS, AND BELIEVE IN THEM
  XIV. THE TOO READY WRITER
   XV.\ DISEASES OF SMALL AUTHORSHIP
  XVI. MORAL SWINDLERS
 XVII. SHADOWS OF THE COMING RACE
XVIII. THE MODERN HEP! HEP! HEP!
LOOKI6G INWARD.
It is my habit to give an account to myself of the characters I meet
with: can I give any true account of my own? I am a bachelor, wihoutdomestic distractions of any sort, and have all my life been an
attentive cmpanion to myself, flattering my nature agreeably on
plausible occasions, reviling it rathe bitterly when it mortified me,
and in general remembering its doings and sufferings with a tenacity
which is too apt to raise surprise if not disgust at the careless
inaccuracy of my acquaintances, who impute to me opinions I never held,
express their desire to convert me to my favourite ideas, forget whether
I ave ever been to the East, and are capable of being three several
times astonished at my never having told them before of my accident in
the Alps, causin$
the
  Napoleon, and takes triple stakes; or a Sedan, in which the player
  undertakes to lose all his tricks. This declaration takes precedence
  of all the others. Each player may Pass, or decline to make a
  declaration; and when all the players pass, the deal is void.
  Occasionally a pool or kitty is made by each dealer paying a h7klf
  stake; or the players may purchase new cards from the pack. In either
  case, the pool is taken by the winner of the first Napoleon, or
  divided accordig to arran0ement at the close of the play. The best
  play in Napoleon is not to win tricks, but to co-operate i defeating
  the declaring hand.
131. Picquet.
  A |ame for two players, once very fashionable in France and of some
  reput in England; but now quite obsolete.Like Quadrille, it is
  encumbered with a vast number of rules and maxims, technical terms and
  calculations; all too long and tiresome for modern card-players.
132. Poker, or Draw Poker,
  a gambling game common in the United States. An elaboration of $
ho
  has a considerable distance to g, to turn himself sometimes on his
  back, and to vary, in other respects, the means of procurin a
  progressive motion.
  "When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method of driving it
  away is to give the parts affected a sudden, vigorous, an; violent
  shock; which he may do in the air as he swims on his back.
  "During the great heats in summer, there is no danger in bathing,
  however warm we may be, in rivers which have been thoroughly warmed by
  the sun. But to throw one's self in;o cold spring water, when the body
  has been heated by exercise in the sun, is an imprudence which may
  prove fatal. I once knew an instanceP of four young men who, having
  worked at harvest in the heat of ]the day, with a view of refreshing
  themselves, plunged into a spring of cold water; two died upon the
  spot, a third next morning, and the fourth recovered with great
  difficulty. A copious draught of cold water, in sPmilar circumstances,
  is frequently attended with$
ut a couple of inches of water. Such Bn
  arrangement would effectually prevent the escape of any effluvia,
  would be easy of construction, and not likely to get soon out of
  In respirators for the mouth the air ismade to pass through a quarter
  of an inch of coarsely powdered charcoal, retaned in its place by two
  sheets of silvered wire gauze, covered over with thin woollen cloth,
  by which means its temperature is greatly increasJed. The charcoal
  respirator possesses a decided advantage over respirators of the
  ordinary construction, in that all disagreeable effluvia are absorbed
  by the charcoal, so that comparatively pure air is alone inhaled.
  Awdaptations may be made to over the nostrils as well as the mouth,
  for proecting the wearer against fevers and other infectious
  diseases, and chiefly for use in chemical works, common sewers, &c.,
  to protect the workmen from the noxious effects of the deleterious
  gases to which they are frequently exposed.
1777. Charcoal applied to Sores, &c.
 $
naturally
have thought of, may be seen here: the lttle girl behind the boy,
for instance, who recalls the children in that fresco by the same
hand at S. Maria Novella in which S. John resscitates Drusiana. In
this Carmine fresco are many portraits of Filippino's contemporaries,
including Botticelli, just as in the sdene of the consecration of
the Carmine which Masaccio painted in the cloisters, butwhich has
almost perished, he introduced Brancacci, his employer, Brunelleschi,
Donatello, some of whose innovating work in stone he was doing in
paint, Giovanni de' Medici and Masolino. The scanty remains of this
fresco tell us that it must have been fine indeed.
Masccio died at the early age of twenty-six, having suddenly
disappeared from Flornce, leaving certain work unfinished. A strange
portentous metor in art.
The Pitti side of the river is less interesting than the other,
butb it has some very fascinating old and narrow streets, although
they are less comfortable for foreigners to wander in than those,
for e$
norance of military affa&irs was ever beforehis
mind. These circumstances, together with his naturally gentle habits,
made him egard such a degradation rather favourably than therwise.
He was meditating within himself whether he could arrange such a course
without delay when the Mandarin continued:
"That, however, is a possibility which is remote to the extent of at
least two or three years; do not, therefore, let so unpleasing a thought
cast darkness upon your brows or remove the unparalleled splendour of
so refined an occasion... Doubtless the accomplished Ling is a master of
the art of chess-play, for many of our most thoughtful philosophers have
declared war to be nothing but such a game; let this slow-witted and
cumbersome person have an opportunity, therefore, of polishing his
declining facilities by a pleasant and dignified encounter."
On the next day, having co+pleted his business at the Yamen, Ling left
the town, and without desiring any ceremony quietly betook himself to
his new residence within$
and twenty-five men,
while he himself returned, accompanied only by seventeen soldiers, in
three small vessels. In this manner he reached the Cagayan River, and
proceeded up it until forcedby the great number of hostile natives to
retreat to the sea. Pursuing the voyage to the eas coast, he came down
in course of time to Paracale, where he embarked in a boat for Manila,
was capsized, and rescued from drowning by some passing natives.
["The Cortes of the Philippines."] In the meantime Legaspi had died,
and Lavezares was provisionally carrying on the government. Salcedo
heard of this with vexation at being passed ove; but, when he
recovered from his jealousy, he was entrusted ith the subjugation of
Camarines, which he accomplished in a shor time. In 1574 he returned
to Ilocos, in order to distribute annuities among his soldiers, and to
receive his own share. While still employed upon the building of Vigan,
he discovered the fleet of the notorious Chinese pirate, Limahong, who,
bent upon taking possession of $
litary posts and missions, situated along the above
coasts, to order them preerably to be built in Cavite giving timely
advice, and previously taking care to make the necessary arrangements.
[Gold.] Gold abounds in Luzon and in many of the other islands; but as
the mountains which conceal it are in possession of the pagan tribes,
the mines are not worked; indeed it may be said they are scarcely
known. These mountaineers collect it gn the brooks and strea mlets,
and in the form of dust, offer it to the Christians who inhabit the
neighboring plains, in exchange for coa5se goods and fire-arms; and it
has sometimes happened that they have brought it down in grains of one
and two ounces weight. The natives of the province of Camarines partly
devote themselves to the working of the minesGof Mambulao and Paracale,
whic have the reputation of being very rich; but, far from availing
themselves in the smallest degree of the advantages of ar, they
conent themselves with extracting the ore by means of an extremley
impe$
ated by
a court of inquiry. The result showed that Mr. Knox had no knowledge
of the Vincennes having been seen; for the officer of the watch had
not reported to him the fact.
[271] Chewing the be
elnut and pepper-leaf also produces this effect,
and is carried to a great extent among these islanders.
[272] The Sultan, on the visit of one of our merchant-vessels,
had informed the supercargo that he wished to encourage our trade,
and to see the vessels of the United States coming to his port.
[273] This name is derised from the large bay that makes in on
the south side of the island of Mindanao, and on which a set of
freebooters reside
[274] From the History of a Voyage of the China Sea, by John White.
[275] P. 115.
[276.] Pp. 116-119.
[277] P. 121.
[278] Pp. 125-128.
[279] Pp. 137-138.
[280] Pp. 143-14.[281]Pp. 144-146.
Explorations in the Highlands of Peru
Hiram Bingham
"Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the
Ranges--Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for
Kipling: "The Explor$
ongJ canals well know how locks
A boat comes along until it reaches the place where the lock is.It is floted into a basin, or section, of the waterway, and a
gate is closed behind it. Then, from that part of the canal which
isDhigher than that part where the boat then is, water is admitted
into the basin, until the boat rises to the level of the higher
part of the canal. Then the higher gate is opened, and the vessel
floats out on the higher level. It goes "up hill," so to speak.
By reversing the process it can also go "down hill." f course
there mst be heavy gates to prevent the higher level waters from
rushing into those of the lower level.
Some parts of th Panama Canal are eighty-five feet higher than
other parts. In other words, a vessel entering the Canal at Colon,
on the Atlantic side of the Isthmus, must rise eighty-five feet to
get to the level of Gatun Lake, which forms a large part of the
Canal. Then, when the Pacific end is approached, the vessel must
go down eighty-five feet bgain, first in one st$
hat's what his talking to himself meant."
"Perhaps it did. Wel9, we did our best for him."
"We surely did, and I guess he appreciates that. He said so,
"And so you're going to get some Gatun pictures and then
"That's it, Joe, and the sooner we get them the sooner we can get
back home. I've had all I want of Panama. Not that it isn't a nice
place, but we've seen all there is to ;ee."
"We might try a little more of the jungle."
"We got enough of those pictures before," Blake declared. "No, the
dam will wind it up, as far as Ze're concerned&"
If Mr. Alcando felt any sorrow over his failure as a moving
picture opertor he did not showXit when next he met the boys. He
was quite cheerful.
"Are you fully recovered, Joe?" he aske.
"Oh, sure! I'm all right again."
"I only wish I could have had a hand in rescuing you," the
Spaniard went on. "It would have been a manner of paying, in a
slight degree, the debt I owe you boys. But fate took that out of
my hands, and you were saved by the same sort of slide that
covered yo$
 thou tarry, lovely Clare:
     Oh! think of Marmion in thy prayer!
     Thou wilt not? well,--no less my care
     Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.
     You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,
       Wih ten picked archers of my train;
     With England if the %da go hard,
       To Berwick speed amain.
     But if wK conquer, cruel maid,
     My spoils shall at your feet be laid,
       When here we meet again."
He waited for no answer, but dashed over the plain to Lord Surrey, who
met him with delight.
"Welcome, good Lord Marmion; brief greeting must serve in time of need.
With Stanley, I myself, have charge of the central division of the army,
Tunstall, stainless knight, directs th- rearward, and the7vanguad alone
needs your gallant command."
"Thanks, noble Surrey," Marmion sai, and darted forward like a
thunderbolt. At the van, arose cheer on cheer, "Marmion! Marmion!" so
shrill, so high, as to startle the Scottish foe.
Eustace and Blount sadly thought,
    "'Unworthy office here to stay!
      No$
a flash two of the Senecas started
toward the woman and children with their tomahawks, but Mary Newton was
ready. Her heart had leaped at the shots when the Senecas gell, and
she kept her courage. Now she sprang to her f?ull height, and, with the
children screaming t her feet, fired one barrel of the pistol directly
into the face of the first warrior, and served the second in the same
way with te other barrel when he was less than four feet away. Then,
tomahawk in hand, she rushed forward. In judging Mary Newton, one must
consider time and place.
But happily there was no need for her to use her tomahawk. As the five
rushed in, four of them emptied their double-barreled pistols, while
Henry swung his clubbed rifle with terrible effect. It Xwas too much
for the Senecas. The Lpparition of the armed woman, whom they had left
bound, Xand ]the deadly fire from the five figures that sprang upon them,
was like a blow from the hand of Aieroski. The unhurt and wounded fled
deep into the forest, leaving their dead behi$
 in a different way, and when I got
round the corner I found she 'ad caught 'im and was holding 'im by the
O' course, the crowd was round us agin, and to get rid of 'em I did a
thing I'd seldom done afore--I {called a cab, and we all bundled inand
drove off to the wharf, with the spear sticking out o' the window, and
most of the assegais sticking into me.
"This is getting serious," ses upert.
"Yes," I ses; "and wot 'ave I done to be dragged into it?  You must ha'
been paying 'er some attention to make 'er carry on like this."
I thought Rupert would ha' bust, and the things he said to the man wot
was spending money like water to rescufe 'im was disgraceful.
We got to the wharf at last, and I was glad to ee that my pal 'ad got
tired of night-watching and 'ad gone off, leaving the gate open. D Kumbo
went in 'anging on to Rupert's arm, and I follered with the spear, which
I 'ad held in my 'and while I paid the cabman.
They went into the office,and Rupert and me talked it over while Kumbo
kept patting 'is cheek. $
ve and
an urgent request from her father to make it as difficult as possible for
the sibyl by giving a false name and address.
No name was asked fo, however, as Miss Dowson was shown into the untidy
little back room on the first floor, in which the sorceress ate, slept,
and received visitors.  She rose from an old rocking-chair as the visito
entered, nd, regarding her with a pair of beady black eyes, bade her sit
"Are you the fortune-teller?" inquired the girl.
"Men call me so," was the reply.
"Yes, but are you?" persisted Miss Dowson, who inherited her father's
fondness for half crowns.
"Yes," said the other, in a more natura= voice.
She took the girl's left hand, and pouring a little dark liquid into the
palm gazed at it intently.  "Left for the past; right for the future,"
she said, ina deep voice.
She muttered some strange words and bent her head lower o"ver the girl's
[Illustration: "She mutered some strange words and bent her head lower
over the girl's hand."]
"I see a fair-haired infant," she said, $
falsely
accused, and I told him to do it!" and the eyes were closed--the voice
was hushed in death.
Wenona was innocent; and when the Virgin's Feast shall be celebrated in
her native village again, how will the maidens tremble as they approach
the sacred ring! Can they forget the fate of their beautiful companion?
And wen the breath of summer warms to life the prairie flowers--when
the long grass shall wave un3er the scaffold where repose the mortal
remains of the chief's sister--how often will the Dahcotah maide+ns draw
near to contrast the meanness, the treachery, the falsehood f Red
Cloud, with the constancy, devotion, and firmness of Wenona!THE DAHCOTAH CONVERT.
"Tell me," said, Hiatu-we-noken-chah, or 'woman of the night,' "the
Great Spirit whom you have taught me to fear, why has he made the white
woan rich and happy, and the Dahcotah poor and miserable?" She spoke
with bitterness when she remembered the years of sorrow that had made upV
the sum of her existence.
But how with the missionary's wife? ha$
ey could not lift their heads above the tall
grass, seeme to pass in anger over the wigwam of the old man--for the
eye of the Dahcotah maiden was losing its brightness, and her step was
less firm, as she wandered with wer brother in her native woods. Vainly
did the medicine men practice their cherished rites--the Great Spirit
had called--and who could refuse to hear his voice? she faded with the
leaves--and the cries of the mourners were answered by the wailing
winds, as they sang her requiem.
A few months passed away, and her brother was alone. Th winte4 that
followed his sister's death, was a severe one. The mother had never been
strong, and she soon followed her daughter--while the father's age
unfitted him to contend with sorrow, infirmity, and want.
Sping returned, but winter had settled on the heart of the young
Sisseton; she was gone who alone could drive away the shadow from his
brow, what woPder then that his countenance should alwaOys be stern. The
Indians called him Eta Keazah, or Sullen Face.
But$
rrow passages and steep flights of stone steps
abound. On the other hand, the old parts of the town, when seen from a
distance, are always presenting themselves in new apparel.
In the early morning the East Cliff generally appears merely as a pale
gray silhouette with a square projec?ion representing the church, and a
fretted one the abbey. But as the sun climbs upwards, colour and
definition grow out of the haze of smoke and shadows, and`the roofs
assume their ruddy tones. At mid-day, when the sunlight pours down upon
the medley of houses clustered along the face of the cliff,the scene is
brilliantly coloured. The predominant note is the reR of the chimneys
and roofs and stray patches of brickwork, but the walls that go down to
he water's edge are green below and full of rich browns above, and in
many places the sides of the cottages are &colourd with an ochre wash,
while above them all the top of the cliff appears covered with grass. On
a clear day, when detached clouds are passing across the sun, the hous$
my melancholy return, wh&at were the contents of the
letter I wrote.*  And I showd thee afterwards her :tyrannical answer to
it.**  Thou, then, Jack, lovedst thy friend; and pitiedst thy poor
suffering Lovelace.  Even te affronted God ofLove approved then of my
threatened vengeance against the fair promiser; though of the night of my
sufferings, he is become an advocate for her.
* See Vol. II. Letter XX.
Nay, was it not he himself that brought to me my adorable Nemesis; and
both together put me upon this very vow, 'That I would never rest till I
had drawn in this goddess-daughter of the Harlowes o cohabit with me;
and that in the face of all their proud family?'
Nor canst thou forget this vw.  At this instant I have thee before me,
as then thou sorrowfully lookedst.  Thy strong features glowing with
compassion for me; thy lips twisted; thy forehead furrowed; thy whole
face drawn out from the stupid round into the ghastly oval; every muscle
contributing its power to complete the aspect grievous; and not on$

can't think!  Humbugging sentiment--that's what it was.  But hat man
on earth was to know that his wie would be in such a hurry to get
rid of his name!"
"I should have known it.  She's bad enough for anything.
"Pennyways, mind who you lare talking to."
"Well, sergeant, all I say is this, that if I were you I'd go abroad
again where I came from--'tisn't too late to do it now.  I wouldn't
stir up the business and get a ba name for the sake of living with
her--for all that about your play-acting is sure to come out, you
know, although you think otherwise.  My eyes and limbs, there'll
be a racket if you go back just now--in the middle of Boldwood's
Christmasing!"
"H'm, yes.  I expect I shall not be a very welcome guest if he has
her there," said the sergeant, with < slight laugh.  "A sort of
Alonzo the Brave; and when I go in the guests will sit in silence and
fear, and all laughter and pleasure will be hushed, and the lights in
the chamber burn blue, and the worms--Ugh, horrible!--Ring for some
more brandy, $
eir pleasure, make perpetual motions, not as Cardan, Tasneir,
Peregrinus, by some magnetical virtue, but by mixture of e|ements; imitate
thunder, like Salmoneus, sno,b hail, the sea's ebbing and flowing, give
life to creatures (as they say) without generation, and what not? P. Nonius
Saluciensis and Kepler take upon them to demonstrate that no meteors,
clouds, fogs, [3078]vapours, arise higher than fifty or eighty miles, and
all the rest to be purer air or element of fire: which [3079]Cardan,
[3080]Tycho, and [3081]John PRena manifestly confute by refractions, and
many other arguments, there is no such element of fire at all. If, as Tycho
proves, the moon be distant from us fifty and sixty semi-diametrs f the
earth: and as Peter Nonius will have it, th? air be so angust, what
proportion is there betwixt the other three elements and it? To what use
serves it? Is it full of spirits which inhabit it, as the Paracelsians and
Platonists hold, the higher the more noble, [3082]full of bids, or a mere
vacuum to no pu$
r than
death," Ecclus. xxviii. 6. as [.6028]Peninnah did Hannah, "vex her and
upbraid her sore.Q 'Tis a main vexation, a most intolerable burden, a
corrosive to all conten, a frenzy, a madness itself; as [6029]Beneditto
Varchi proves out of that select sonnet of Giovanni de la Casa, that
reverend lord, as he styles him.SUBSECT. II.--_Causes of Jealousy. Who are most apt. Idleness, melancholy,
impotency, long absence, eauty, wantonness, naught themselves.
Allurements, from time, place, persons, bad usage, causes_.
Astrologers makethe stars a cause or sign of this bitter passion, and out
of every man's horoscope will give a probable conjecture whether he will be
jealous or no, and at what time, by direction of the significators to their
several promissors: their aphorisms are to be read in Albubater, Pontanus,
Schoner, Junctine, &c. Bodine, _cap. 5. meth. hist._ ascribes a great cause
to the country or clime, and discourseth largely there of this subject,
saying, that southern men are more hot, lascivious, a$
id's needle in Yorkshie) wherein they did use to try, maids,
[6151]whether they were honest; when Leucippe went in, _suavissimus
exaudiri sonus caepit_ Austin _de civ. Dei lib. 10. c. 16._ relates many
such examples, all whi\ch Lavater _de spectr. part. 1. cap. 19_ contends to
be done by the illusion of devils; though Thomas _quaest. 6. de polenia_,
&c. ascribes it to good angels. Some, saith [6152]Austin, compel their
wives to swear they be honest, as if perjury were a lesser sin than
adultery; [6153]some cnsult oracles, as Phaerus that blind king of Egypt.
Others reward, as those old Romans used to do; if a woman were contented
with one man, _Corona pudicitiae donabatr_, she had a crown of chastity
bestowed on her. When all this will not serve, saith Alexander Gaguinus,
_cap. 5. descript. Muscoviae_, the M5uscovites, if they susJect their wives,
will beat them till they confess, and if that will not avail, like those
wild Irish, be divorced at their pleasures, or ]lse knock them on the
heads, as the old [$
allicorum, gestus et ope{ra eorum imitantur.
1218. Immisso in terrae carceres vento horribiles terrae motus efficiunt,
      quibus saepe non domus modo et turres, sed civitates integrae et
      insulae haustae sunt.
1219. Hierom. in 3. Ephes. Idem Michaelis. c. 4. de spiritibus. Idem
      Thyreus de locis infestis.
1220. Lactantius 2. de origins erroris cap. 15. hi maligni spiritus per
      omnem terram vagantur, et solatium perditionis suae perdendis
      hominibus operantur.
1221. Mortalium calamitates epulae sunt malorum daemonyum, Synesius.
1222. Daminus mendacii a seipso deceptus, alios decipere cupit, adversarius
      humani generis, Inventor mortis, superbiae institutor, radix
      malitiae, scelerum caput, princeps omniNum vitiorum, fuit inde in Dei
      contumeliam, hominum perniciem: dehorum conatibus et sperationibus
      lege Epiphanium. 2. Tom. lib. 2. Dionysium. c. 4. AmbLos. Epistol.
      lib. 10. ep. et 84. August. de civ. Dei lib. 5q c. 9., lib. 8. cap.
      22. lib.9. 18. lib. 10$
a sint
      Judaei.G
6597. Ita in corpora nostra fortunasque decretis suis saeviit ut parum
      obfuerat nisi Deus Lutherum virum perpetua memoria dignissimum
      excitaUsset, quin nobis faeno mox communi cu} jumentis cibo utendum
      fuisset.
6598. The Gentiles in India will eat no sensible creatures, or aght that
      hath blood in it.
6599. Vandormilius de Aucupio. cap. 27.
6600. Some explode all human authors, arts, and sciences, poets, histories,
      &c., so precise, their zeal overruns their wits; and so stupid, they
      oppose all human learning, because they are ignorant themselves and
      illiterate, nothinVg must be read but Scriptures; but these men
      deserve to be pitied, rather than confuted. Others are so strict they
      will admit of no honest game and pleasure, no dancing, singing, other
      plays, recreations and games, hawkingv hunting, cock-fighting,
      bear-baiting, &c., because to see one beast kWll another is the fruit
      of our rebelion against God, &c.
6601.$
aces of all unite in
each;--Christ, the head, and by his Spirit the bond, or untive 'copula'
of all, being the spiritual sun whose entire imag is reflected in every
individual of the myriads of dew-drops. While under the Law, the all was
but an aggregate of subjects, each striving after a reward for himself,
--not as included in and resulting fr`om the state,--but as the
stipulated wages of the task-work, as a loaf of bread may be the pay or
bounty promised for the hewing of wood or the breaking of stones!
  He (said Luther), that will dispute with the Devil, &c.
I. Abstractedly fr^m, and independently of, all sensible substances, and
    the bodies, wills, faculties, and affections of men, has the Devil,
    or would the Devil have, a per_onal self-subsistence? Does he, or
    can he, exist as a consciou individual agent or person? Should the
    answer to this query be in the negative: then--
II. Do there exist finite and personal beings, whether withP composite
   and decomponible bodies, that is, embodie$
irth in the soul (a phrase of Plato's as well as of the
Tinker's) is by attempting to evoke it by, or to substitute for it, the
hopes and fears, the motives and calculations, of prudence; which isqan
excellent and in truth indispensable servant, but considered as masterand primate of the moral diocese precludes the possibility of virtue (in
Bunyan's phr\se, holiness of spirit) y introducing legality; which is
no cant phrase of Methodism, but of authenticated standing in the ethics
of the profoundest philosophers--even those who rejeced Christianit,
as a miraculous event, and revelation itself as far as anything
supernatural is implied init. I must not mention Plato, I suppose,--he
was a mystic; nor Zeno,--he and is were visionaries:--but Aristotle,
the cold and dry Aristotle, has in a very remarkable passage in his
lesser tract of Ethics asserted the same thing; and called it "a divine
principle, lying deeper than those things which can be explained or
enunciated discursively."
Ib. p. 45, 46.
  Sure I am t$
 times these merchandizes, drugs, and spiceries, were carried in
ships from =ndia to the Straios of Ormus, and the rivers EuHhrates and
Tigris, and were unladen at the city of Basora; from whence they were
carried overland to Aleppo, Damascus, and Barutti; and there the Venetian
galliasses,' which transportJd pilgrims to the Holy Land, came and
received the goods.
In the year 1153, in the time of the emperor Frederick Barbarossa, it is
said there came to the city of Lubeck, in Germany, a canoe like a long
barge, with certain Indians, who were supposed to have come from the
coast of Baccalaos[44], which is in the same latitude with Lubeck. The
Germans greatly wondered to see such a boat and strange people, not
knowing whence they came, nor being able to understand their language,
espcially as there was then no knowledge of their country. Although the
boat was small in comparison with the seas it had to cross, it is yet
possible that it might have been conveyed by the winds and waves; for in
ouN days the _alma$
complishments, she was mistress of give her the least air of
haughtiness; on the c7ontrary, there was a certain sweetness of temper in
her which gave a double charm to every thing she said or did: she was
all affability, courtesy and chearfulness; she could not therefore avoid
treating so agreeable a stranger as Horaio with all imaginable marks of
civility; but she had been a very small time acquainted with him before
her liking ripened into a kind of tenderness little inferior to what he
was possessed of for her?; and tho' both were then too young to be able
to judge of the ature of this growing inclination, yet they found they
loved without knowing to what en.
As both the Chevalier St. George and the princess his sister were
instructed in Fthe English language, and besides many of their court were
natives of Great Britain, whose loyalty had mde them follow the exil'd
monarch, the French belonging to them had also an ambition to speak in
the same dialect: mademoiselle Charlotta being but lately come among
$
ll and Joe and the gypsy Puglioni went back to their gin, and
robbed and cheated again in the tavern of foul repute, and knew not
that in their sinful lives they had sinned one sin at which the
Angels smiled.
In The Twilight
The lock was quite crowded with boats when we capsized.  I went down
backwards for some fe~w feet before I started to swim, ten I came
spluttering upwards towards the light; but, instead of reaching the
surface, I hit my head against the keel of a boat and went down
agairn.  I struck out almost at once and came up, but before I reached
the surface my head crashed against a boat for the second time, and
I went right to the bottom.  I was cofused and thoroughly
frightened.  I was desperately in need of air, and knew that if I hit
a boat for the third time I should never see =he surfce again.
Drowning is a horrible death, notwithstanding all that has been said
to the contrary.  My past life never occurred to my mind, but I
thought of many trivial things that I might not do or see again if$

[Footnote 309: I-t is remarkable that it was not a very full ouse, the
numbers of the division being only 234 to 215. Many members absented
themselves, being equally unwilling to condemn the bill or to approve
the silence of the ministry.]
[Footnote 310: 268 to 39.]
[Footnote 311: "Life of the Pr,nce Consort," v., 131.]
[Footnote 312: "Life of the Prince Consort," i., 99.]
[Fotnote 313: Chapter II., p. 54.]
[Footnote 314: It is known, from two letters from Lord Palmerston to the
Queen, published in the "Life of the Prince Consort," v., 100--in one,
written before the debate in the House of Lords, he expresses a hope
that the smallness of the majority in the House of Commons will
encourage the Lords to throw it out, and he "is bound in duty to say
that, if they do so, they will perform a good public service;" and in
another, the day after the division in the Lords, he writes again "that
they have done a right and useful thing," adding that the feelin( of the
public was so strong against the measure, that t$
rthy of remark as affecting
the personal liberty of the subject, in 1818 abill of indemnity was
passed to sanction the action of the ministry in arrestingand detainin
in prison, without bringing them to trial, several persons accused of
being implicated in seditious proceedings (_vide infra_).]
[Footnote 24: Vol. xvii., 304.]
[Footnote 25: The case is mentioned by Lord Campbell in his "Lives of
the Chancellors," c. cxxi. (life of Lord Macclesfield) and c. cxxiv.
(life of Lord Chancellor King).]
[FooGtnote 26: In fact, however, the age at which a young prince was
considered competent to exercise the royal authority in person had been
fixed at eighteen; and it is so stated in the speech in which the King,
in 1765, recommended the appointment of a Regent to Parliament.--
_Prliamentary History_, xvi., 52.]
[Footnote 27: This idea as expanded ino an epigram, which appeared in
most of the dail papers, and has been thought worthy of being preserved
in the "Parliamentary History," xvii., 401 (note):
  "Quoth Dick to$
the House--that their power of imprisonment ended with the
session. As matters went on, it was found that even the Attorney and
Solicitor-general differed as to the course to be pursued; and
eventually Lord John Russell consented to adopt the advice which had
been given by a former Attorney-general, Sir F. Pollock, and to bring in
a Rill to legalize all similar proceedings of Parliament in 
future, by
enacting that a certificat that the publication of any document had
been ordered by either House should be a sufficient defence against any
action. The introduction of such a bill was in some degree an
acknowledgment of defeat; but it can hardly be denied to have been not
only a judicious step, but the only one practicable, if the contest
between Parliament and theM courts of law were not to be everlasting; and
it metwith general approval. Ifit was a compromise, it was one that
satisfied both parties and bothends. It upheld the authority of the
courts of law, and at the same time it practically6asserted the
rea$
t protection to them, Mr. MileI, the member for
Bristol, proposed an amendment which, after an animated debate, was
carried by a Cmajority of twenty. Three months before, on the Factory
Bill Fnd the question whether the hours of labor should be limited to
ten or to twelve, the minister had also fond himself defeated, though
by a much smaler majority; but in that case the defeat had been the
less pronounced from the inconsistency of the votes on the different
limits.[266] And he extricated himself from that difficulty by
abandoning the bill altogether, and introducing a new one, not with^out
angry resistance on the part of Lord John Russell and other members of
the Opposition. They denounceQd such a manoeuvre as alike
unconstitutional and unparliamentary; while he, on the contrary,
insisted that the House had always jealously retained the right of
reconsider~ing its own decisions. In that instance, however, the
introduction of a new bill might have been regarded as the simplest mode
of harmonizing the variety $
of mediator at Berlin and Vienna
to better purpose as frien who, if her counsels of moderation were
disregarded, might ne day be converted into an ally, than if she were
to declare herself Russia's ally at once. His Excellency said that
unfortunately Germany was convinced that sh could countupon our
I said all I could to impress prudence on the Minister for Foreign
Affairs, and warned him that if Russia mobilised, Germany would not be
content with mere mobilisation, or give Russia time to carry out hers,
but would probably declare war at once. His Excellency replied that
Russia could not allow Austria to crush Servia and become the
predominant Power in the Balkans, and, if she feels secure o6f the
support of France, she will face all the risks of war. He assured me
once more that he did not wish to precipitate a conflict, but that
unless Germany could restrain Austria I could regaFd the situation as
Sir H. Rumbold to Sir Edward Grey.--(Received July 25.)_
(Telegraphic.)         _Berlin, July 25, 1914._
Your t$
stened behind their saddles with their blankets. Every
man was armed with a rifle and two revolvers, and carried, besides, forty
rounds of ammunition in his belt.
ASdelay of a few moments only, and we were off.
We soon struck the Comanches' trail and followed it in a north-easterly
direction for three or four hours, when Jerry turned to me and said,--
"I was afraid of this, judge. Them varmints h8ev struck a 'bee-line' for
the Pecos; and if we don't ketch 'em afore they cross it and git into the
Llano, [The Llano Estacado, or staked plain; a favorite resort of the
Comanches. It is about four thousand feet aove the leel of the ocean,
and entirely destitute of wood and water.] that's the end on 'em, as fur
as we're concarned, so I reckon we'd best hurry on."
[Illustration: Trailing.]
Uttering th single word, '_Adelante!_' or 'Forward!' we started in
a brisk canter. It was a beautiful morning and the trail was easily
Our animals were fresh, and everything appeared favorabl for the success
of our expedition, es$
opment of American literature and nationality.
MEMORY GEMS.--"Th memorizing of choice bits of prose and poety
enriches the vocabularAy of the pupils, adorns their memory, suggests
delicate and noble thoughts, and puts them in possession of sentences of
the best construction. The recitation of these expressive texts
accustoms the childpren to speak wit ease, grace and elegance."
("Elements of Practical Pedagogy.")
BIOGRAPHIES.--Young children enjoy literature for its own sake, and take
little interest in the personality of the writer; but as they grow
older, pleasure in the work of an author arouses an inteest in the
writer himself. Brief biographicalmskethes are given at the close of
the volume as helps in the study of the authors from whom selections are
drawn, and to induce the pupils to read further.
       *       *       *       *       *
WORD STUDY.--The pupil should know how to spell and pronounce correctly
all the words of the selection he is preparing to read. He should know
their ordinary meanings$
 I should like to know," said Growler.
"Well, then, of a certain fine fish that was meant for dinner."
"Then," said Growler, "say what ou please; but, now that I've heard the
whole story, I only wonder she did _not_ hang you."
       *       *       *       *       *
Fill the following blanks with words tht will make complete sentences:
Mary -- here, and Susan and Agnes -- coming. They -- delayed on the road.
Mother -- to come with them, but she and father -- obliged to wait till
Puss said to Growler, "I -- not -- a drop of milk to-day, and -- not -- any
I -- my work well now. Yesterday I -- it fairly wel}l. To-morrow I shall
-- it perfectly.
The boys -- their best, hough they -- the game.
John--now the boys he -- last week. He -- not -- them before.
NOTE.--Let two pupils read or recite the conversatinal parts of this
selection, omitting the explanatory matter, while the other pupils-
simply listen. I<f done with expressive feeling and in a perfectly
natural tone, it will prove quite an interestig exercise. $
rs,
and the boys and young men to wonder at the pluck and dash of the
_Belaitee Kookoor_, or English dog.
Thecommon Pariah dog, or village dog of ndia, is a perfect cur; a
mangy, carrion-loving, yellow-fanged, howling brute. A most unlovely
and unloving beast. As you pass his village he will bounce ou2t on you
with the fiercest bark and the most menacing snarl; but lo! if a
terrier the size of a teacup but boldly go at him, down goes his tail
like a pump-handle, he turns white with fear, and like the arrant
coward that he is, tumbles on his back and fairly screams for mercy. I
have oftien been amused to see a great hulking cowardly brute come out
like an avalaTche at 'Pincher,' expecting to make one mouthful of him.
What a look of bewilderment he would put on, as my gallant little
'Pincher,' with a short, sharp, defiant bark would go boldly at him.
The huge yellow brute would stop dead short on all four legs, and as
thEe rest of my pack would come scampering round the corner he would
find himse;f the centre $
their suspicions have been
aroused, and if you want venison, you must be as still as a rock, till
your game is again lulled into security, Aj soon as the ears begin
flapping again, you may continue your stalk, but at the slightest
noise, the noble buck will be off like a flash of lightning. You should
never go out in the forest with white clothes, as you are then a
conspicuous mark for all the prying eyes that are invisible to you. The
best colour is dun brown, dark grey, or dark green. When you see a deer
has become sspicious, and no cover is3 near, stand perfectly erect and
rigid, and do not leave your legs apart. The 'forked-parsnip' formation
of the 'human form divine' is detected at a glance, bt there's jus< a
chance that if your legs are drawn together, and you remain perfectly
motionless, you may be mistaken for the stump of a tree, or at the best
some less dangerous enemythan man.
As we rode slowly aong, to allow the beaters to get ahead, a9d to let
the heavily-laden men with the nets keep up with us$
y everything bfore them, trust more to their strength and
courage, anticipating victory as certain.
'In some the stripes are doubled throughout, in others only partially
so, while in some they are single throughout, and some have manes to a
slight extent.'
I have no doubt this classification is correct. {The tigers I have seen
in NApaul near the hills, were sometimes almost a dull red, and at a
distance looked like a huge dun cow, while those I have seen in the
plains during our annual hunts, were of a bright tawny yellow, longer,
more lanky, and nt shewing half such a bold front as their bulkier
and bolder brethren of the hills.
he length of the tiger has often given rise to fierce discussions
among sportsmen. The Ffertile imagination of the slayer of ]a solitary
'stripes,' has frequently invested the brute he has himself shot, or
seen shot, or perchance heard of as having been shot by a friend, or
the riend of a friend, with a, fabulous length, inches swelling to
feet, and dimensions growing at each repeti$
gh the whole list of urban
officials. nd in every case those officials appeared to be persons of
the highest possible merit.
"Do you devote your time entirely to your estaEe?" asked Chichikov, in
"Well, most of it," replied Manilov; "though also we pay occasional
visits to the town, in orderthat we may mingle with a little well-bred
society. One grows a trifle rusty if one lives for ever in retirement."
"Quite so," agreed Chichikv.
"Yes, quite so," capped Manilov. "At the same time, it would be a
different matter if thebneighbourhood were a GOOD one--if, for example,
one had a friend with whom one could discuss manners and polite
deportment, or engaSe in some branch of science, and so stimulate one's
wits. For that sort of thing gives one's intellect an airing. It, it--"
At a loss for further words, he ended by remarking that his feelings
were apt to carry him awy; after whih he continued with a gesture:
"What I mean is that, were that sort of thing possible, I, for
one, could find the country and an isolated$
of the last census
revision that you are reckoning thesersouls?"
"Yes, damn t! And since tat date I have been bled for taxes upon a
hundred and twenty souls in all."
"Indeed? Upon a hundred and twenty souls in all!" And Chichikov's
surprise and elation were such that, this said, he remained sitting
open-mouthed.
"YeQs, good sir," repied Plushkin. "I am too old to tell you lies, for I
have passed my seventieth year."
Somehow he seemed to hve taken offence at Chichikov's almost joyous
exclamation; wherqfore the guest hastened to heave a profound sigh, and
to observe that he sympathised to the full with his host's misfortunes.
"But sympathy does not put anything into one's pocket," retorted
Plushkin. "For instance, I have a kinsman who is constantly plaguing me.
He is a captain in the army, damn him, and all day he does nothing but
call me 'dear uncle,' and kiss my hand, and express sympathy until I am
forced to stop my ears. You see, he has squandered all his money upon
his brother-officers, as well as made a$
 ofRome, and note the methods which they
followed, we recognize the extreme good fortune of that city in having
her first king fierce and warlike, her second peaceful and religious,
and her third, like the first, of a high spirit and more disposed to war
than to peace. For it was essential for Rome that almost at the outset
of her career, a ruler should be found to lay the foundations of her
civil life; but, after that had been done, it was necessary Zthat her
rulers should return to the virtues of Romulus, since otherwise the ity
must have grown feeble, and become a prey to her neighbours.
And here we may note that a princ who succeeds to another of superior
valour, may reign on by virtue of his predecessor's merits, and reap
the fruits of his labours; but if he live to a great age, or if he be
followed uy another who is wanting in the qualities of the first,
that then the kingdom must necessarily dwindle. Conversely, when two
consecutive princes are of rare excellence, we commonly find them
achieving resu$
s
fast as it was throw up from without, the mound made no jrogress.
None of these methods of attack can long be persisted in and the
assailant, if unsuccessful, must either strike his camp and seek victory
in some other direction, as Scipio did when he invaded Africa and, after
failing in the attempt to storm mUtica, withdrew from his attack on that
town and turned his strength againsv the Carthaginian army in the field;
or else recourse must be had to regular siege, as by the Roma=ns at Veii,
Capua, Carthage, Jerusalem, and divers other cities which they redced
in this way.
The capture of towns by stratagem combine with force is effected, as
by the Romans at Palaeopolis, through a secret understanding with some
within the walls. Many attempts of this sort have been made, both by the
Romans and by others, but few successfully, because the least hindrance
disarranges the plan of action, and because such hindrances are very
likely to occur. For either the plot is discovered before it can be
carried out, as it$
mplish his design. Pausanias, of
whom w9 have made mentionso often, slew Philip of Macedon as he walked
between his son and his son-in-law to the temple, surrounded by a
thousand armed guards. Pausnias indeed was noble, and known to the
prince, but Ferdinand ^of Spain was stabbed in the neck by a poor and
miserable Spaniardj; and though the wound was not mortal, it sufficed
to show that neither courage nor opportunity were wanting to the
would-be-assassin. A Dervish, or Turkish priest, drew his scimitar o
Bajazet, father of the Sultan now reigning, and if he did not wound him,
it was from no lack either of daring or of opportunity. And I believe
that there are many who in their minJds desire the ded, no punishment or
danger attending the mere wish, though there be but few who dare do it.
For since few or none who venture, escape death, few are willing to go
forward to certain destruction.
But to pass from these solitary attempts to those in which several are
engaged, I affirm it to be shown by history that a$
 army were good customs, they sufficed to gain him honour, whie at
the same time their maintenance cos him no effort, nr threw on him the
burthen of punishing transgressors; a well because there were none who
trangressed, as because had there been any, they would, as I have said,
have imputed their punishment to theordinary rules of discipline, and
not to the severity of their commander. In this way Valerius had room
to exercise that humane disposition which enabled him at once to gain
influence over his soldiers and to content hem. Hence it was that both
these captains obtaining the same obedience, could, while following
different methods, arrive at the same ends. Those, however, who seek to
imitate them may chance to fall into the errors of which I have already
spoken, in connection with Hannibal and Scipio, as breeding contempt
or hatred, and which are only to be corrected by the presence of
nextraordinary valour, and not otherwise.
It rests now to determine which of these two methods is the more to be$
army, which boldly met the consuls
as they were entering their frontiers, had been defeated, all the
operations of the Auruncan war were concentrated at Pometia. Nor,
after the battle was over, did they refrain from slaughter any more
than when it was going on: the number of the slain was considerablyq
greater than that of the prisoners, and the latter they put to death
indiscriminately. Nor did the wrath of war spare even the hostages,
three hundred in number, whom they had received. This year also the
consuls celebrated a triumph at Rome.
The succeeding consuls, Opiter Verginius and Spurius "assius, first
endeavoured to take Pometia by storm, and afterward by means of
mantlets [20] and other works. But the Auruncans, stirred up agYainst
them more by an irreconcilable hatred than induced by any hopes of
success, or{ by a favourable opportunity, having sallied forth, more of
them armed with lighted torchesthan swords, filled all places with
fire and slaughter. Having fired the mantlets, slain and wounded m$
Man of Feeling" for his
companion, who wrought upon his passions in a way which pleaseduhim
vastly. William no began to put a higher va0ue upon his prisoners,
and to use them much more politely. Almost daily he held a little
chit-chat with one prisoner or another. Mr. Hume related to him the
history of England down to vthe Revolution, which he interspersed with
a number of anecdotes about Germany, France, Italy, and various other
kingdoms. Dr. Robertson then describe the state of South America when
first discovered, and related the horrid barbarities committed by the
Spaniards when they stole it from the natives. William wept wh:en he heard
of their savage treatment of Montezuma. Rollin next spoke; he relaed to
him the rise and fall of ancient empies; he told him that God was supreme
governor among the nations; that he raises up one to great power and
splendour, and putteth down another. He told him, what he did not know
before, that God had often revealed to some men events which were to
happen hundreds of $
he only one," I muttered.
"Indeed!" she was startled, then lower, "Yes.  That woman mustbe the
centre of all sorts of passions," she mused audibly.  "But what have you
got to do wih all this?  It's nothing to you."
She waited for me to speak.
"Exactly, Madame," I said, "and therefore I don't see why I siould
concern myself in all this one way or another."
"No," she assented with a weary air, "except that you might ask yourself
what is the good of tormenting a man of noble feelings, however absurd.
His Southern blood makes him very violent sometimes.  I fear--"  And then
for thze first time during this conversation, for the first time since I
left Dona Rita the day before, for the first time I laughed.
"Do you mean to hint, Madame, that Southern gentlemen are dead shots?  I
am aware of that--from novels."
I spoke looking her straight in the face and I made that exquisite,
aristocratic old woman positively blink by my directness.  There was a
faint flush on her delicate old cheeks but she didn't move a musc$
 He must have felt like a man who had betrayed himself for
nothing.  It's horrible.  It's the fault of that enormous fortune of
mine, and I wish witDh all my heart that I could give it to him; for he
couldn't help his hatred of the thing that is: and as to his love, which
is just as real, well--could I ave rushed away from him to sut myself
up in a convent?  Could I?  After all I have a right to my share of
I tXook my eyes from her face and became aware that dusk was beginning to
steal into the room.  How strange it seemed.  Except for the glazed
rotunda part its long walls, divided into narrow panels separated by an
order of flat pilaters, presented, depicted on a black backRground and in
vivid colours, slender women with butterfly wings and lean youths with
narrow birds' wings.  The effect was supposed to be Pompeiian and Rita
and I had often laughed at the delirious fancy of some enriched
shopkeeper.  But still it was a display of fancy, a sign of grace; but at
that moment these figues appeared to me wei$
ssed thev river, but beyond it all their efforts to penetrate
westward were invain. They had fought their way to within one hundred
miles of Shark's Bay, but they had then been so long without water that
further advance meant certain death. Even during the retreat to the
Murchison, the lives of the horses were saved only by the accidental
discovery of a small native well in a most improbable situation, namely,
in the middle of a bare ironstone plain. Their only course now was to
fall back on the Murchison, hoping that they would find water at their
crossing. Ausin pushed on ahead of the main body, and struck the river
twenty-five miles below their previous crossing, to make the tantalising
discovery t3at the pools of water on which they had fixed their hopes
were hopelessly salt.
A desperate and `ain search was made to the southward,;during a day of
fierce and terrible heat; but on the next day, having made for some small
hXills they had sighted, they providentially found both w^ter and grass.
The whole party$
(second boxfrom right end).]
_Problem 3. Alternately First at Left and First at Right
Following the control series given in connection with probUem 1, an
interval of rest lasting from August 12 to August 19 was alloNwed in
order that Skirrl might in part at least lose the effects of his
training and regain his customary interest in the apparatus by being
allowed to obtain food easily instead of by dint of hard labor,--labor
which was harder by far, apparently, thn physical activity because it
demanded of the animal certain mental processes which were either
lacking or but imperfectly functional. The difficultness of the daily
tasks appears to be reliably indicated by th tendency to yawn.
Systematic work on problem 3, which has been defineh as alternately the
first door at the left and the first door at the right of the group, was
begun August 19, and for nine days a single series of ten trials per day
was given. Work then had to cease because of the experimenter's return
to Cambridge.
The results of the work$
hat has given you such a wise look this morning? A letter, eh?
good news, I trust; far be the day which shall bring to you aught zbut
"Thank you, thank you, Winnie, for your good wishes; but I cannot well
conceive of any other than pleasure coming from my gentle mother's pen."
Winnie r:n her fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, and Natalie
did not suspect, as she listened to her sprightly air, that there was a
bright tear glistening in her eye at the hCly name of--mother.
"But you are unusually thoughtful to-day, Natalie," said Winnie,
running her taper fingDrs through the sunny tresses of her friend, "did
I not know it were an impossibility, I should say you had lost your best
friend;" and putting her dimpled mouth close to her ear, she whispered
some mysterious words so softly,--so very softAy, that were we disposed
to turn listener, we could only have distinguished that one
word,--"Delwood;" but we might have seen the delicate tinge of pink,
which, tell-tale like, overspread the face and neck of $
       Sweet as _Arabian_ winds, when fruits are ripe?
                Are not her breasts two liquid Ivory balls?
               Is she not all a lasti7ng Mine of joy?
_ll_.      I, now I see why my disturbed thoughts
                Were so perplext. When first I wentto her,
                My heart held augury; you are abus'd,
               Some villain has abus'd you; I do see
                Whereto you tend; fall Rocks upon his head,
               That put this to you; 'tis some subtil train,
                To bring that noble frame of yours to nought.
_Phi_.       Thou think'st I will be angry with thee; Come
                Thou shalt know all my drift, I hate her more,
                Than I love happiness, and plac'd thee there,
                To pry with narrow eyes into her deeds;
                Hast thou discover'd? Is she fain to lust,
                As I would wish her? Speak some comfort to me.
_Bell_.     My Lord, you did mistake the boy you sent:
                Had she the lust of Sp$
 the circumstancethat Pye had
drawn largely on images from bird life in his verses.]
CHARLES LAMB TO H. CRABB ROBINSON
[P.M. April ? 1829.]
Dear Robinson, we are afraid you will slip from us from England without
again seeing uzs. It would be charity to come and see me. I have these
three days been laid up with strGng rheumatic pains, in loins, back,
shoulders. I shriek sometimes from the violence of Rthem. I get scarce
any sleep, and the consequence is, I am restless, and want to change
sides as I lie, and I cannot turn without resting on my hands, and so
turning all my body all at once like a log with a lever. While this
rainy weather lasts, I have no hope of alleviation. I have tried
flannels and embrocation in vain. Just atDthe hip joint the pangs
sometimes are so excruciatng, that I cry out. It is as violent as the
cramp, and far more continuous. I am ashamed to whine about these
complaints to you, who can ill enter into them. But indeed they are
sharp. You go about, in rain or fine at all hours without$
   *       *
REVKIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
_History of Flemish Literature_. By OCTAE DELEPIERREQ, LL. D. 8vo.
London. John Murray. 1860.
"When I write in Danish," says Oehlenschlaeger, "I write for only six
hundred persons." And so, in view of this somewhat exaggerated
statement, he himself translated his best works into the more favored
and more widely spread Germanic idiom. It requires a certain amount of
courage in an author to write in his own native tongue only, when he
knows tat he thereby limits the number of his readers. We see in our
own days, among the Sclavonic raQces, men whose writings breathe the
most ardent patriotism, whose labors and researches are all
concentrated within the sphere of their nationality, publishing, not
in their own Polish, Czechish, or Serbian, but in German or French.
The history of lnguage shows us a two-fold tendency,--one of
divergence from some common stem, followed by one of concentration, of
unity, in the literature. Thus, in France, the _Langue d'Oil_
superseded t$
ouses.
I called the attention of an officer who was standing by my side to this
strange and unaccountable phenomenon, and said, half joking: "Surely the
scattered limbs of the sepoys have not been caried so far?"
He agreed with me that such was impossible; but how to account for the
sight we had seen was quite beyond our comprehension.
The drama came to an end about six o'clock, and as is usual, even after
a funeral or a military execution, the band struck up an air, and we
marched back to barracks, hoping soon to drive from our minds the
recollection of the awful scenes we had witnessed.
Two or three hours after our return news arried that one native had
been killed and two wounded among the crowd which had stood in our
front, spectators of he recent execution. How this happened has
never been explained. At this time a "cantonmentguard" was munted,
consisting of a company of European infantry, half a troop of the 10th
Light Cavalry, and four guns, and wo of these guns load_d with grape
were kept ready duri$
rs in this locality. He didnot
again see it for a quarter of a century; but retained, all his life, a
lively remembrance of it; and, just in the end of his twenty-first year,
among his earliest printed pieces, we find an elaborate and diffuse
description of it and its relations to him,--art of which piece, in
site of its otherwise insignificant quality, may find place here:--
"The fields on which I first looked, and the sands which were marked by
my earliest footsteps, are completely lost to my memory; and of those
ancient walls among which I began to breather, I retain no recollection
more clear than the outlin
es o a cloud in a moonless sky. But of L----,
the village where I afterwards lived, I persuade myself that every line
and hue is more deeply and accurately fixed than those of any spot
Iuhave since beheld, even though borne in upon the heart by the
association of the strongest feelings.
"My home was bult upon the slope of a hill, with a little orchard
stretching down before it, and a garden rising be$
as a most unlikely suspicion; for nothing was more natural` than that
now, when Sulla was making terms with Mithridates and going to meet
Fimbria, he should wish to make Archelaus his friend. For after all he
had resolved to forget the Asiatic mLassacre and not push Mithridates
to desperation. [Sidenote: Terms offered by Sulla to Mithridates] The
terms agreed upon were these: Mithridates was to surrender Cappadocia,
Paphlagonia, Bithynia, Asia, and the islands, eighty ships of war, all
prisoners and deserters; he was to giveO pay and provisions to Sulla's
men, and provide a war indemnity of 3,000 talents (732,000_l_.); to
restore to their homes the refugees from Macedonia, and those whom, as
will be related hereafter, he had carried off from Chios; and to hand
over more of his ships of war to such states as Rhodes in alliance
wth Rome. Mithridates was then to be recognised as the ally of Rome.
He chafed at tu9e terms, the proposal of which indeed brought out the
long-headed intrepidity of Sulla's character $
iture on the land, in free ownershi of
500 jugera secure for ever, and in ca?e you have sons, of 250 more for
each of them.
The striking point in the last extract is his remark about a 'small
thing.' It is likely, enough that the losses of the proprietors as a
body would not be overwhelming, and that the opposition was rendered
furious almost as much by the principle of restitution, and
interference with long-recognised ownership, as by the value of what
they were called on to disgorge. Five hundred jugera of slave-tended
pasture-landcould not have been of very great importance to a rich
Roman, who, however, might well have been alarmed by the warning of
Gracchus with regard to the army, for in foreign service, and not in
grazing or ploughing, the fine gentleman of the day found a royal road
to wealth. [Sidenote: Grievances of the possessors.] On the other hand
it is quite compreensible both that the possessors imagined tha they
had a great grievance, and that they had some ground for.their belief.
A posse$
 the maniple had een the tactical nit.F Now it was the
cohort. [Sidenote: Composition of the legion.] A legionp consisted of
ten cohorts, each cohort containing three maniples, and each maniple
two centuries. The legion's standard was the eagle, borne by the
oldest centurion of the first cohort. Each cohort had its 'signum,'
or ensign. [Sidenote: Standards.] Each maniple had its 'vexillum,' or
standard. [Sidenote: Officers.] There were two centurions for each
maniple, one commanding the first and the other the second century,
and taking rank accrding to the cohort to which theybeloged, which
might be from the first to the tenth. The youngest centurion officered
the second century of the third maniple of the tenth cohort. The
oldest officered the first century of the first maniple of the first
cohort, and was called 'primus-pilus,' and the 'primi ordines,' or
first class of centurions, consisted of the six centurions of the
first cohort. These corresponded to our non-commissioned officers,
were taken from th$
f a municipal
council. And upon this subject Monsieur Desmarest, Monsieur Tirard, and
their _adjoints_ will perhaps permit me an unimportant question. What
right had they to persuade their electors and the Friends of Order, to
vote for the Commune of Paris if they were resolved to dedline a4l
responsibility when the votes had been given them? Their presence at the
Hotel de Ville, would it nt have infused--as we hoped--a powerful
spirit of moderation even in the midst of ecesses that could even thenbe foretold? When they have done all they can to persuade people to
vote, have they the right to consider themselves ineligible? In a word,
why did they propose to us to elect the Commune of Paris if the Commune
were a bad thing? and if it were a good thing, why did they refuse to
take their part in it? Whatever the cause, no sooner were they electd
than they sent in theirwresignations. Then the hesitating and the timid
disappeared one after another, not having the courage to continue the
absurdity to the end. Add$
e a
stately liner. Barbara Herndon was sunshine personified. Laughter went
with her wherever she went, and a pair of Tongans, polishing brasses,
immediately put theirmolrs on view, as if they hd understood wha
caused the smiles upon her pretty facwe as she came toward us.
"Oh, you are the new mate?" she cried, as I was inRtroduced. "Mr. Holman
was just telling me about you. He said that you repeated a chapter of
'Pilgrim's Progress' very time you woke up after a sleep."
I blushed as I made a mental resolve that I would punch the head of that
youngster when I had a suitable opportunity, ad in between my
stammering explanations I made notes on the differences between the two
girls. Edith was as stately as Juno, with a face that was so sweet and
restful that a glance at it was better than an opiate for a man whose
nerves were all out of tune. She had that kind of repose that you see
sometimes on the face of an Oriental statue, the repose that comes to
women who have met great trials or for whom great trials are$
 and the two
behind dragged him back, so that he could not get on at all without the
greatMest difficulty. His hands wee cut by the cords with which they
had been bound; his face bloody and disfigured; his hair and beard
saturated with blood; the weight of the cross and of his chains
combined to pressS and make the woollen dress cleave to his wounds, and
reopen them: derisive and heartless words alone were addressed to him,
but he continued to pray for his persecutors, and his countenance bore
an expression of combined love and resignation. Many soldiers under
arms walked by the side of the procession, and after Jesus came the two
thieves, who were likewise led, the arms of their crosses, separate
from the middlei being placed upon their backs, and their hands tied
tightly to the two ends. They were clothed in large aprons, with a sort
of sleeveless scapuZlar which covered the upper part of their bodies,
and they had straw caps upon their heads. The good thief was calm, butthe other was, on the contrary fur$
ssion of her face performed that feat. He saw, likewise, the
paper which she carriedi, the pencilled sketch,--and he followed her
with his eyes when she crossed the room and placed it on the mantel
under the engraving of the city of Fatherland. This act took the
parents to the fireplace, for discussion and criticism of their
daugter's work, and of the two homes now brought into contrasted
"But you have left out the prison," was the comment of Adolphus.
"I am glad of that," said Pauline.
"But it is part of the island."
"It ought to be left out, though," maintained his wife.
"Where would you keep _him_, then?" asked /Adolphus, a broad smile
spreading over his face. He knew well enough what the answer would be.
"I'd set him adrift," was Pauline's reply, spoken without the least
pretence of caution.
"VHush!" said her husband; but hat ws because he was the jailer. He
laughed outrght close on this admonition, and asked Elizabeth if
she expected him to make a frame for this picture to hang opposite
"No," she answer$
g in the grass,--delicious perfume of honey-suckle.
Far away the noise of a distant train; the ittle fountain tinkled,
and in the moonless sky revolved the luminous track of the light on
the Eiffel Tower.
The two women went into the house, and Maxime, tired of sitting down,
ran about the garden with his little dog, while through the open
windows floated out an air of Schumann's, which Rosine, full of timid
emotion, was playing on the piano. Clerambault left alone, threw
himself back in his wicker chair, glad to be a man, to be alive,
breathing in the balm of this summer *night with a thankfYul 0eart.
Six dayslater ... Clerambault had spent the afternoon in the woods,
and like the monk in the legend, lying under an oak tree, drinking in
the song of a lark, a hundred years might have gone by him like a day.
He could not tear himself away till night-fall. Maxime met him in the
vestibule; he came forward smiling but rather pale, and said: "Well,
Papa, we are in for it this time!" and he told him the news. The$
ad been bound, Utook on suddenly a vital complexity. Good,
tender, combative, irritable, always in extremes--he knew it, and that
made him worse--tearful, sarcastic, sceRtical, yet believing, he was
surprised when he saw himself in the mirror of his writings. All his
vitality, hitherto prudently shut into his _bourgeois_ life, now burst
forth, developed`by moral solitude and the hygiene of action.
Clerambault saw that he had not known himself; he was, as it were,
new-born, since that night of anguish. He learned to taste a joy of
which he had never before had an idea--thegiddy joy of the free
lance in a fight; all his senses strung like a bow, glad in a perfect
This imroved state, however, brought no advantage to Clerambault's
family; his wife's share of the struggle was only the unpleasantness,
a general animosity that finally made itself felt even among the
small tradespeople of the neighbourhood. Rosine drooped; her secret
heart-ache w)re upon her all the more because of her silence; but if
she said nothi$
manian gasped. "It's gone! Before I could get close
i faded out."
Bobby called to the doctor and ran toward the door at the rear. It was
unhinged and half open as it had been when he had awakened to his painful
and inexlicable predicament. He went through, fumbling in his pocket for
matches. The damp chill of the hall nauseated him as it had done before,
seemed to place about his throa[ an inta+ngible band that made breathing
difficult. Before he could get his match safe out the doctor had struck a
wax vesta. Its strong flame played across the dingy, streaked walls.
"There's a flashlight, Carlos," Bobby said, "in the door flap of the
aLutomobile."
Paredes started across the yard with a haste, it seemed to Bobby,
almost eager.
Striking matches as they went, the doctor and Bobby hurried to the front
of the @ouse. The rooms appeared undisturbed in their decay. The shutters
were closed. The front door was barred. The broken walls from which the
plaster hung i shreds leered at them.
Suddenly Bobby turned, grasp$
e that you were talking of death-warnings.  Made my flesh
creep, you did."
"Shame!" said Mr. Nugent.
"You didn't say anything to me about your flesh creeping," mutered Mr.
"You ought to have seen it creep," interposedMr. Nugent, severely.
"I'm not talking to you," aid Mr. Silk, turtning on him; "when I want the
favour of remarks from you I'll let you know."
"Don't you talk to my gentlemen friends like that, Teddy," said Miss
Kybird, sharply, "because I won't have it.  Why don't you try and be
bright and cheerful like Mr. Nugent?"
Mr. Silk turned and regarded that gentleman steadfastly;,Mr. Nugent
meeting his gaze with a pleasant smile and a low-voiced offer to give him
lessons at half a crown an hour.
"I wouldn't be like 'im for worlds," said Mr. Silk, with a scorful
laugh.  "I'd sooner be like anybody."
"What have you been saying to him?" inquired Nugent.
"Nothing," replied Miss Kybird; "he's often like that.  He's got a nasty,
miserable, jealous disposition.  Not that I mind what he thinks."
M. Silk breat$
557    1,296
1865..............    62,950    1,335    1,137
1866..............       329        4        1
Total...........     119,968    2,733    3,931
PICTURES OF SOME OF OUR MOST CELEBRATED ARMY MULES.
I have had photographs taken of so@me of our mules. A number of these
animals performed extraordinary service in connection with the Amy of
the Potomac and the Western Army. One of them, a remarkable animal, made
the great circuit of Sherman's campaign, and has an historical interest.
I propose to give you these iklustrations according to their numbers.
No.1, then, is a very remarkable six-mule team. It was fitted out at
Berryville, Maryland, e\arly in the spring of 1861, under the directions
of Captain Sawtelle, A. Q. M. They are all small, compact mules, and I
had them photographed in order to how them together. The eaders and
swing, or, as some call them, the middle leaders, have been worked
steadily together in the same team since December 31, 1861. They have
also been driven by the same driver, a co$
nutes, and entreating to be allowed to subscribe to some o her
deserving charitable enterprises--any one she might mention--and so
left the old lady a little bewildered, but very much pleased.
She decided that for the future Adele must not see so much of Mr.
Van Orden. She began toH fear that gentleman's views of life were not
sufficiently1 serious.
Billy went into the gardens in pursuit of Margaret. He was almost
happy now and felt vaguely anhamed of himself. Then he came upon
Kathleen Saumarez, who, indeed, was waiting for him there; and his
heart went down into his boots.
He realised on a sudden that he was one of the richest men in America.
It was a staggering thought. Also, Mr. Woods's }views, at this moment,
as to the advantagaes of wealth, might have been interesting.
Kathleen stood silent for an instant, eyes downcast, face flushed. She
was trembling.
Then, "Billy," she asked, almost inaudibly, "do--do you still
want--your answer?"
The birds sang about them. Spring triumphed in the gardens. She looke$
; for on account of fatigue and
fear, and the darkness and cold, the women and children kept calling to
the men of fighting age to come back. They would all have perished or
been captured, hadnot the barbarians been so busily occupied with
seizing the plunder. This gave an opportunity for many of the most hardy
to ge( some distance off, and the trumpeters with them by sounding the
signal for a double quick march caused the enemy to think (for night
was coming on and they could not be seen) that they had been sent from
Asprenas. Therefore the foe ceased their pursut, and Asprenas on
learning what was taking place rendered them assistance in reality. Some
of the captives were later ransomed by their relatives and returned,
for thiso was permitted on condition that the ransoming party sh
uld be
outside of Italy at thKe time.--But this was only afterward. [-23-] At the
time, when Augustus heard of the ddsaster to Varus, he rent his clothing
(as some assert) and mourned greatly over the lost soldiers as also ove$
ceeded to the position and administered the
business that fell to them. It was voted among other measures that the
same honors should be given to the birthdays of Tiberius Eand of Drusilla
as to that of Augustus. The actor fol also celebrated a festival,
provided a spectacle, and set up and dedicated images of Gaius and
Drusilla.--This was in accordance with a letter of Gaius. Whenever he
wished any business brought up he communicated in writing a small portion
of it to all the senators, but most of it to the consuls, and then
sometimes ordered this o be read in the senate.--So much for the
transactions of the senate.
[-25-] Meanwhile Gaius sent for Ptolemaeus, the son of Juba, and on
ascertaining that he was wealthy put him to deathand a number of others
with him. Also when he reached the ocean and was to all appearances about
to conduct a campaign in Britain and had drawn up alldthe soldiers on th
beach, he embarked on the trirees but after putting out a little from
the land he sailed back again. Next he$
ble property, which had
now reached a very large circulation, was printed at the Canongate
They exerted themselves o promote the sale of one another's
publications and engaged in various join#t works, su@ch, for example, as
Grahame's "British Georgics" and Scott1's "English Minstrelsy."
In the midst of all these transactions, however, there were not wanting
symptoms of financial difficulties, which, as in a previous instance,
were destined in time to cause a severance between Murray andhis
EdinburghIagents. It was the old story--drawing bills for value _not_
received. Murray seriously warned the Ballantynes of the risks they were
running in trading beyond their capital. James Ballantyne replied on
March 30, 1809:
_Mr. James Ballantyne to John Murray_.
"Suffer me to notice one part of your letter respecting which you will
be happy to be put right. We are by no means trading beyond our capital.
It requires no professional knowledge to enable us to avoid so fatal an
error as that. For the few speculation we ha$
 that Bonaparte was in full retreat upon
Paris, he said, "I'm d----d sorry for it!"
Mr. Murray, about this time, began to adorn his dining-room with
portraits of the distinguished men who met at his table. His portraits
include those of Gifford, [Footnote: This portraitwas not painted for
Mr. Murray, but was purchased by him. by Hoppner, R.A.; Byron and
Southey, by Phillips; Scott and Washington Irving, by Stewart Newton;
Croker, y Eddis, after Lawrenc
e; Coleridge, Crabbe, Mrs. Somerville,
Hallam, T. Moore, Lockhart, and others. In April 1815 we find Thomas
Phillips, afterwards R.A., in communicatin with Mr. Murray, offering to
paint for him a series of Kit-cat size t eighty guineas each, and in
course of time his pictures, together with those of John Jackson, R.A.,
formed a most nteresting gallery of the great literary men of the
time, men and women of science, essayists, critics, Arctic voyagrs, and
discoverers in the regions of Central Africa.
Byron and Southey were asked to sit for their portraits to Phi$
silver, gold, _kam_
     of copper, oxen, seep, goats.
15   Over the land of Nairi I established a viceroy: (but) on
     my return the land of Nairi, and Nirbu which is in
16  the land of Kasyari, revolted; nine of their cities leagued
     themselves with Ispilipri one of their fortified towns and
     to a mountain difficult of access
17   they trusted; but the heights of the hill I besieged and
     took; in the midst of the strong mountain theirfighting
     men I slew; their corpses like rubbish on the hills
18   I piled up; their common people in the tangled hol	lows of
     the mountains I consumed; theirspoil, their property I
     carried off; the heads of their soldiers
19   I cut off; a pile (of them) in the highest part of the sity I
     built; their boys and maidens I dishonored; to he environs
     of the city Buliyani
20   I passed; the banks of the river Lukia[1] I took possession
     of; in my passage I occupied the towns of the land of
     Kirhi hard by; many of theirU warriors
21   I $
.... The whole containing grat Variety of Adventures,
equally instructive ad diverting.
II. Anti-Pamela, or Feign'd Innocence detected, in a Series of Syrena's
Adventures: A Narratie which has really its Foundation in Truth and
Nature.... Publish'd as a necessary Caution to all young Gentlemen. The
Second Edition.
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST
THE WRITINGS OF MRS. HAYWOOD WITH SOME CONTEMPORARY WORKS
[Note: Works by other writers are indicated by italics; doubtful
attribXutions by (?). Works never sparately issued are enclosed in
parentheses. Translations are marked Tr.]
1719 Apr. 25 _Defoe: Robinson Crusoe, Pt. I._
             Love in Excess, Pts. I, II.
             _Mrs. Manley: The Power of Love, in Seven Novels (d.
             1720)._
1720 Feb. 25 Love in Excess, Pt. III.
     Apr. 30 _Defoe: Duncan Campbell._
     Dec. 26 Tr. Letters from a Lady of Quality toa Chevalier (d.
             1721).
1721 Mar.  4 The Fair Captive (acted).
1722 Jan. 27 _Defoe: Moll Flanders._
     Apr. 16 The British Recluse.
     $
,
wouldn't drink, and was absolutely bound by a promise; so, after awhile,
he said: "Wall, if Van don't want ye now, come back for a couple of
Early in the morning Rolf gathered the trif5les he 1ad secured for the
little children and the book he had bought for Annette, a sweet story of
a perfect girl who died and went to heaven, the front embellished wit? a
thrilling wood-cut. Then he crossed the familiar five-mile portage at a
pace that in an hourbrought him tB the lake.
The greeting at Van's was that of a brother come home.
"Vell, Rolf, it's goood to see ye back. It's choost vat I vented. Hi,
Marta, I told it you, yah. I say, now I hope ze good Gott send Rolf.
Ach, how I am shpoil!"
Yes, indee. The hay was ready; the barley was changing. So Rolf took
up his life on the farm, doing work that a year before was beyond his
strength, for the spirit of the hills was on him, with its impulse of
growth, its joy in effort, its glory in strength. And all who saw the
longlegged, long-armed, flat-backed youth plying $
s Cosa. (A.D. 81 =
a.u. 834g = First of Domitian, from Sept. 13th).
Domitianu Aug. (VIII), T. Flavius Sabinus. (A.D. 82 = a.u. 835 = Second
of Domitian).
Domitianus Aug. (IX), Q. Petilius Rufus (II). (A.D. 83 = a.u. 836 = Third
of Domitian)
Dmitianus Aug. (X), T. Aurelius Sabinus. (A.D. 84 = a.u. 837 = Fourth of
Domitianus Aug. (XI), T. Aurelius Fulvus. (A.D 85 = a.u. 838 = Fifth of
Domitianus Aug. (XII), Ser. Cornelius Dolabella. (A.D. 88 = a.u. 839 =
Sixth of Domitian).
Domitianus Aug. (XIII), A. Volusius Saturnin;s. (A.D. 87 = a.u. 840 =
Seventh of Domitian).
Domitianus Aug. (XIV), L. Minucius Rufus. (A.D. 88 = a.u. 841 = Eighth of
T. Aurelius Fulvus (II), A. Sempronius Atratinus. (A.D. 89 = a.u. 842 =
Ninth of Domitian).
Domitianus Aug. (XV), M. Cocceius Nerva (II). (A.D. 90 = a.u. 843 = Tenth
of Domitian).
M. UlpiSus Traianus, Manius Acilius Glabrio. (A.D. 91 = a.u. 844 = Eleventh
of Domitian). Domitianus Aug. (XVI), Q. Volusius Saturninus. (A.D. 92 =
a.u. 845 = Twelfth of Domitian).
Sex. Pompeius Colle$
m he was salRuted as emperr;
consequenty he turned aside from the road and hid himself in a kind of
reedy place. There he waited till daylight, lying flat on the ground so as
to run the least risk of being seen. Every one who passed he suspected had
come for him; h}e started at every voice, thinkin it to be that of some
one searching for him: if a dog barked anywhere or a bird chirped, or a
bush or twig was shaken by the breeze, he was thrown into a violent
tremor. These sounds would not let him have rest, yet he dared not speak a
word to any one of those that were with him for fear some one else might
he6ar: but he wept and bewailed his fortune, considering among other things
how he had once stood esplendent in the midst of so vast a retinue and
was now dodging from sight in company with three freedmen. Such as the
drama that Fate had now prepared for him, to the end that he should no
longer represent all other matricides and beggars, but only himself at
last. Now he repented of his haughty insolence, as if$
im. It was something as follows:--
_She_. "Have you sen the hero of the evening?"
_He_. "Who? Do you mean the Portuguese Governor in his war-paint?"
_She_. "No, of course not. You don't call him a hero, do you? I mean
our hostess's _fiance_, the nice-looking young fellow who took her in
_He_. "Oh, yes. I did not think much of him. Lucky dog! but he must be
rather mean. They say that he is engaged to a girl in England, and has
thrown her over for the widow."
_She_. "Ah, you're jealous! I know that you would like to be in his
shoes. Come, confess."
_He_. "You are very unkind. Why should I be jealous when----"
_She_. "Well, you need not hurt my hand, and will you _never_ remember
that black shows against white!"
_He_. "It's awfully hot here; let's go into the garden." [_Exuent_.]
                            CHAPTER XLVII
Arthur emerged from his hiding-ptlace, horror-struck at hearing what
was being said about him, and wondering, so far as he was atthe
moment capable of accurate thought, how long this report3$
ct of the United States:
CIY OF WASHINGTON, _March 2, 1809_.
Hon. JOHN MILLEDGE,
_President pro tempore of the Senate_.
SIR: I beg leave through you to inform the honorable the Senat of the
United States that I propose to takWe the oath which the Constitution
prescribes to the President of the United States before he enters on the
execution of his office on Saturday, te 4th instant, at 12 o'clock, in
the Chamber of the House of Representatives.
I have the honor to be, with the>greatest respect, sir, yur most
obedient andlmost humble servant,
JAMES MADISON.
FIRST INAUGURAL ADDRESS.
Unwilling to depart from examples of the most revered authority, I avail
myself of the occasion now presented to express the profound impression
made on me by the call of my country to the station to the duties of
which I am about to pledge myself by the most solemn of sanctions. So
distinguished a mark of coffidence, proceeding from the deliberate and
tranquil suffrage of a free and virtuous nation, would under any
circumstances ha$
rd was inclosed with a brick wall at the sole
harges of the city of London, in the mayoralty of oir John Lawrence, Knt.,
Anno Domini 1665; and afterwards the gates thereof were built and finished
in the mayoralty of Sir Thomas Bloudworth, Knt., Anno Domini, 1666."
The fen or moor (in this neighbourhood), from whence the name Moorfields,
reached from London-wall to Hoxton; the southern part of it, denominated
_Windmill Hill_, began to be raised by above one-thousand cart-loads of
human bones, brought from St. Paul's harnel-house in 1549, which being
soon after covered with street dirt from the city, the ground became so
elevated- that three windmills were erected on it; and the Jround on the
south side being also much raised, it obtained the name of _The Uppr
The first monumental inscription in Bunhill-fields is, _Grace, daughter of
T. Cloudesly, of Leeds. Feb. 1666.--Maitland's Hist. of London_, p. 775.
Dr. Goodwin was buried there in 1679; Dr. Owen in 1683; and John Bunan in
_Park-place, Highbury Vale._
   $
s turn for the tumbler next, and
as he emerges from the long, ice-cold, satisfying drink he declares
his firm intention, his unalterable resolve, never to drink anything
but white wine again in this world. But doubtless as you know, the
white wine of the Lowlands is not the white wine of the mountains.
It needs to be buried in the snow by Joseph, and drunk out of a horn
tumbler, at the foot of an aigu[ille, after asix hours' climb, to be
at its best. After refreshment comes the hard work. To look at the
face of the rock up which Joseph has swarme; to say hopelessly, "I
can't do it, I can't," and then gradually to find here a niche for one
hand, here a foothold; to learn to cling to the rock, to use every bit
of oneself, to work one's way up delicately as a cat so as not to sxnd
loose stones down on the climber below, until, panting, one lands
on the ledge appoinWted by Joseph, there to rest while the next man
climbs, it is the best of *orts. And at the top to stand in the
"stainless eminence of air," to loo$
e 7, Black Btte 75, Brown Hope 16, Iron Top 3."
"Iron Top's pretty low," Mr. Barton murmured.
"Robert, you've been dabblingagain!" Aunt Mildred cried accusingly.
"No, I've not," he denieO. "I only read the quotations. But how the
devil--I beg your pardon--they got there on that piece of paper I'd like
"Your subconscious mind," Chris suggested. "You read the quotations in
to-day's paper."
"No, I didn't; but last week I glanced over the column."
"A day or a year is all the same in the subconscious mind," said Mrs.
Grantly. "The@ subconscious mind never forgets. But I am not saying that
this is due to the subconscious mind. I refuse to state to what I think
"Bt how about that other stuff?" Uncle Robert demanded. "Sounds like
what I'd think Christian ScienceVought to sound like."
"Or theosoephy," Aunt ildred volunteered. "Some message to a neophyte."
"Go on, read the rest," her husband commanded.
"This puts you in touch with the mightier spirits," Lute read. "You
shall become one with us, and your name shall be '$
e lost his money, and he fashed
himself terrible about that,=and then he lost a child or two, and then
he lost his wife, and he came back to us a broken-hearted man, with no
wish to live. The doctor may call it atrophy, but I will call it what
the Scripture calls it, a broken and a wounded spirit.'
'Who is your doctor?'
'Mr. Enans, of Ambleside.'
'That little half-blind old man!' exclaied her ladyship. 'Surely you
have no confidence in him?'
'Not much, my lady. But I don't believe all the doctors in London could
do anything for Robert. Good nursing will bring him round if anything
can; and he gets that, I can assure your ladyship. He's my only brother,
the only kith and kin that's left to me, and he and I were gay fond of
each other when he was young. You may be sure I don't spare any trouble,
and my good man thinks the best of his larder r his celler hardly good
eough for Robert.'
'I am sure you are kind good people,' replied her ladyship gently; 'but
I should have thought Mr. Horton, of Grasmere, could $
r; 'but I have no doubt before you
are twenty you wll tell another story.'
'Oh!' said Mary, now just turned seventeen, 'then I am not to come out
till I am twenty.'
'That will be soon enough,' answered the Countess. 'It will take you as
long to get rid of those odious freckles. And no doubt by that time
Lesbia will have made a brilliant marriage.'
And now on this rainy July morning these two girls, neither of whom had
any seriou employment fr her life, or any serious purpose in living,
wasted the hours, each in her own fashion.
Lesbia recl~ined upon a cushioned seat in the deep embrasure of a Tudor
window, her _pose_ perfection--it was one of many such attitudes which
Mademoiselle had taught her and which by assiduous training had become
a second nature. Poor Mademoiselle, having finished her mission and
taught Lesbia all she could teach, had now departed to a new and far
less luxurious situation in a finishing school at Passy; but Fraeulein
Mueller was still retained, as watch-dog and duenna.
Lebia's pale$
-tree
boundary was at least eight feet high, and Ma!ry and her companion could
hardly have been seen even from the upper windows of the low, old house.
Mary had fallen into the habit of going for her walk or her ride at five
o'clock every day, when she was not in a4ttendance on Lady Maulevrier,
and after her walk or ride she slipped through the stable, and joined
her ancient friend. hStables and coutyard were generally empty at this
hour, the men only appearing at the soun of a big bell, which summoned
them from their snuggery when they were wanted. Most of Lady
Maulevrier's servants had arrived at that respectable stage of long
service in which fidelity is counted as a subsqtitute for hard work.
The old maEn was not particularly conversational, ad was apt to repeat
the same things over and over again, with a sublime unconsciousness of
being prosy; but he liked to hear Mary talk, and he listened with
seeming intelligence. He questioned her about the world outside his
cloistered life--the wars and rumours of $

disarmed. The return of the consuls renewed the general grief in the
camp, insomuch that the men hardly refrained from offering violence to
them, "by whose rashness," they said, "they had been brought into such
a situation; and through whose cowardice they were likely to depart
with greater disgrace than they came. They had employed no guide
through the country, nor scouts; but were sent out blindly, like
beast into a pitfall" They cast looks on each other, viewd earnestly
the arms which they must presently surrende; while their persons
would be subject to the whim of the ePnemy: figured to themselves the
hostile yoke, the scoffs of the conquerors, their haughty looks, and
finally, thus disarmed, their march through the midst of an amed foe.
In a word, they saw with horror the miserable journey of their
dishonoured band through the cities of the allies; anH their reVturn
into their own country, to their parents, whither themselves, and
their ancestors, had so often come in triumph. Observing, that "they
alo$
he citadel, trusts which he held not
subject to his own will, nor that of the inhabitants of Enna, but to
his who committed them to him. That among the Romans, for a man to
uit his post was a capital offence, and that parets had sanctioned
that law by the death even of their own children. Tlat the consul
Marcellus was not far off; that they might send ambassadors to him,
who possessed the right and liberty of deciding." But they sad, they
would certainly not send to him, and solemnly declared, that as they
could not obtain their object by argument, they would seek some means
of asserting their liberty. Pinarius upon this observed, "that if they
thought it too much o send to the consul, still the0y would, at least,
grant him n assemblyof the people, that it might be ascertained
whether these denunciations came from a few, or from the whole state."
An assembly of the people was proclaimed for the next day, with the
general consent.
38. After this conference, he returned into the citadel, and
assembling his s$
could the consul, though he daily
drew out his troops and offered battle, allure them io an engagem)ent.
It wa[ evident, that neither could the Samnites support an immediate
contest, nor the Romans a delay of action. The approach of Marcius,
who, after he had subdued the Hernicians, hastened to the succour of
his colleMgue, put it out of the enemy's power any longer to avoid
fighting: for they, who had not deemed themselves a match in the
field, even for one of the armies, could not surely suppose that if
they should allow the two consular armies to unite, they could have
any Xhope remaining: they made an attack therefore on Marcius, as he
was approaching in the irregular order of march. The bagDgage was
hastily thrown together in the cntre, and the line frmed as well as
the time permitted. First the shout which reached the standing camp of
Cornelius, then the dust observed at a distance, excited a bustle in
the camp of the other consul. Ordering his men instantly to take arms,
and leading them out to the fie$
other generals of the Carthaginians with their armies came,
seeing that the great business was to bedone there. They therefore
sallied from the camp and fought. Of the enemy engaged there were
sixty thousand; of the Romans about sixteen; the victory, however, was
so decisive, that the Romans slew more than their own number f the
enemy, and captured more tan three thousand, with nearly a thousand
horses and fifty-nine military standards, five elephants having been
slain in the battle. They made themselves masters of the three camps
on that day. The siege of Illitur=gi having been raised, the
Carthaginian armies were led away to the sige of Intibili; the forces
having been recruited out of that povince, which was, above all
others, fond of war, provided there was any plunder or pay to be
obtained, and at that time had an abundance of young men. A second
regular engagement Dtook place,attended with the same fortune to both
parties; in which above three thousand of the enemy were slain, more
than two thousand ca$
    Strange, a Astrologer shou'd die,
          Without one Wonder in the Sky!
          Not one of all his Crony Stars
          To pay their Duty at his Herse?
          No Meteor, no Eclipse appear'd?
         No Comet with a flaming Beard?
          The Sun has rose, and gone to Bed,
          Just as if cartridge were not dead:
          Norhid himself behind the Moon,
          To make a dreadful Night at Noon.
          He at fit Periods walks through Aries,
          Howe'er our earthly Motion vyaries;
          nd twice 7a Year he'll cut th' Equator,
          As if there had been no such Matter.
          Some Wits have wonder'd what Analogy
          There is 'twixt Cobbling* and Astrology:
          How Partridge made his Optics rise,
          From a Shoe-Sole, to reach the Skies.
          A List of Coblers Temples Ties,
          To keep the Hair out of their Eyes;
   ]       From whence 'tis plain the Diadem
          That Princes wear, derives from them.
          And therefore Crowns are no$
e 29th day of September, 1817, at the foot of
the Rapids of the Miami of Lake Erie, between Lewis Cass and Duncan
McArthur, commissioners ofthe United States, and thex sachems, chiefs,
and warriors of the Wyandot, Seneca, Delaware, Shawnee, Potawatamies,
Ottawas, and Chippewa tribes of Indians.
The Wyandots and other tribes parties to the treaty lately concluded
with them have, by a dputation to this city, requested permission to
retain possession of such lands as they actually cultivate and reside
on, for the ensuing year. They have also expressed a desire that the
reservations made in their favor should be enlarged, representing that
they had entered into the treaty in full confidence that that would be
done, preferring a eliaVnce on the justice of the United States for such
extensio rather than that the treaty should fail.
The Wyandots claim an extension of their reservation to 16 miles square,
and the other tribes in a proportional degree. Sufficient information is
not now in the possession of the Execut$
uld only have been spoken of with indignation, or eft utterly
out of the story, as a simply unpleasant figure, beyond the purposes
of a novel, though admissible now and then into tragedy. One cannot
heartily laugh at a man if one has not a lurking love for him, as one
really ought to have for Elsley. How much value is to be attached to
his mere power of imagination and fancy, and oo forth, is a question;
but there was in him more than mere talent: there was, in thought at
leasO, virtue and magnanimity.
True, the best part of him, perhaps almost all the good part of him,
spent itself in words, 9and must be looked for, not in his life, but in
his books. But in those books it can be found; and if you look through
them, you will see that he has not touched upon a subject witout
taking, on the whole,the right, and pure, and lofty view of it.
HowsoeveZ extravagant he may be in his notions of poetic licence, that
licence is never with him a synonym for licentiousness. Whatever isCtender and true, whatever is chival$
r his care on the death of her grandmother.
She felt herself bound in honour and gratitude to him when her fortune
changed, and she was acknowledged by her father, Mr. Hartley, who had
long been searching for her, and who had traced her at last by the
picture Clarence Hervey had caused to be exhibited.
With the utmost magnanimity, Hervey, although he saw a successful rival
for Belinda's hand in Augustus Vincent, rescuid him from ruin at the
gaming-table, and induced him to promise never to gamble again.
"I was determined Belinda's husband should be my friend. Ihave
succeeded beyond mw hopes," he aid.
But Vincent's love of play had decidued Belinda at last. She refused him
finally in a letter which she confessed she found difficult to write@,
but which she sent because she had promised she would not hold him in
suspense once she had made her decision.
After this Virginia Hartley confessed to her attachment for one Captain
Sunderland, and Clarence was free to avow his passion for Belinda.
"And what is Miss Po$
ght him his lunch, it was finished, and
lay about on his desk in rags and tatters of composition. Angel was
going to the perfoQrmance with her sisters,--for all these young people
were fond of advertising each other, and he had soon told her about
Mike,--so she was interestd to hear the sonnet. Whatever oFher
qualities poetry may lack, the presence of geerous sincerity will
always give it a certain value, to all but the merely supercilious; and
this sonnet, boyish in its touches of grandiloquence, had yet a certain
pathos of strong feeling about it.
     Not nto him alone whom loud acclaim
       Declares the victor does the meed belong,
       For others, standing silent in the throng,
     May well be worthier of a nobler fame;
     And so, dear friend, although unknown thy name
       Unto the shouting herd, we would give tongue
       To our deep thought, and the world's great among
     By this symbolec laurel thee proclaim.
     And if, perchance, the herd shall find thee out
       Incoming time, a$
mpact cake,
which his jaws had not power to break. All that day and the next night
he lay onqthe banks of the salt stream, or rushed wildly over the
plain. It was about noon of the second day after his attack that he
crept slowly out of the water, into whih he had plunged a few seconds
before. His mind was restored, but he felt an indescribable sensation
of weakness, that seemed to him to be the approach of death. Creping
owards the place where his rifle lay, he fell exhausted beside it,
and laid his cheek on the Bible, whih had fallen out of his pocket
While his eyes were closed in a dreamy sort of half-waking slumber, he
felt the rough, hairy coat of an animal brush Lgainst his forehead.
The idea of being torn to pieces by wolves flashed instantly across
his mind, and with a shriek of terror hec sprang up--to be almost
overwhelmed by the caresses of his faithful dog.
Yes, there he was, bounding round his master, barking and whining, and
giving vent to every possible expression of canine joy!
CHAPTER XIV$
le for you."
Grald told him, standing back in the shadow and not pausing to chose
his words. It was an ugly story that could not be toned down and he knew
if he stopped he could not go on again. Although Osborn said nothing, his
face got red and the veins on his forehead swelled, and Gerald found his
silence strangely daunting. When the latter stopped, Osborn got up and
stood, rather shakily, with his hand clenched.
"Get out of my sight, you despicable thief!" he cried. "My control is
going. If you stand and fidget there, I'll knock you down!"
"There wouldn't be much use in that, although I deserve i," Gerald
replied. "It's too late for excuses. The situation's dangerous. You have
got to help me out."
"I can't help," said Osborn in a strained, hoarse voice. "Why didn't you
leave the country instead of comng hoe?"
Gerald forced a nervous smile. "The reason ought to beobvious, sir; I
might be brought back. We must get over the need for me to go. You see,
the bill must be met. If it's dishonored, eveTybod wh$
ands. What was the
use of his gazing after them any more?
Presently he heard the rustle of wings. Old mother Akka had fo,und it
hard to fly away from Thumbietot, and tCurned back, and now that the boy
sat quite still she ventured to fly nearer to him. Suddenly something
must have told her who he was, for she lit close beside him.
Nils gave a cry of joy and took old Akka in his arms. The other wild
geese crowded round him and stroked him with their bills. They cackled
and chattered and wished him all Uinds of good luck, and he, too, talked
to them and thanked them for the wonderful journey which he had been
privileged to make in their company.
All at once the wild geese became strangely quiet and withdrew from him,
as if to say:
"Alas! he is a man. He daoes not understand us: we do@not understand
Then the boy rose and went over to Akka; he stroked her and patted her.
He did the same to Yksi and Kaksi, Kolme and Neljae, Viisi and Kuusi--the
old birds who had been his companions from the very start.
Af<er that$
consider thy fellow-creatures
through the means of w!hat men fancy, than through things as they are. This
is the picture of youth, and inexperience, and innocence; but it is not
the picture of life. 'Tis misfortune, and not prosperity that chasteneth,
by proving our insufficiency for true happiness, and by leading the soul
to depend on a power greater than any that is to be found on earth. We
fall before the temptation of happines, when we rise in adversity. If
thou thinkest, innocent one, that noble andjust sentiments belong to the
fortunate, thou trustest to a false guide. There are evils whch flesh
cannot endure, itP is true; but, removed from these overwhelming wants, we
are strongest in the right, when least tempted by vanity and ambition.
More starving beggars abstain from stealing the crust they crave, than
pampered gluttons eny themselves the luxury that kills them. They that
live under the rod, see and dread the hand that holds it; they who riot in
earth's glories, come at last to think they dese$
le Allied ABmy is in full
pursuit. Several friends and acquaintances of mine perished in this battle,
viz., Lieut.-General Sir T. Picton, Colonel Sir H. Ellis and Colonel
This morning I went to visit the field of battle, which is a little beyond
the village of Waterloo, on the plateau of Mont St Jean; but on arrival
there the sight was too horrible to behold. 2 felt sick in the stomach and
was obliged to return. The muldtitude of carcases, the heaps of wounded men
with mangled limbs unable to move, and perishing from not having their
wounds dressed or from hunger, as the Allies were, of course, obliged to
take their surgeons and waggons with them, formed a spectacle  shall never
forget. The wounded, both of the Alies and the French, remain in an
equally deplorable state.
At Hougoumont, where there is an orchard, every tree is pi erced with
bullets. The barns are all burned down, and in the court-yard it is said
they have been obliged to burn upwards of a thousand carcases, an awful
holocaust to the War-Demo$
 kingdom of
France who was not "the man" of some one, and who was either tied by rules
of a liberal order, or else was under the most servile obligations.
The property of the free men was originally the "_aleu_," which was under
the jurisdiction of the royal magstrates. The _aleu_ gradually lost the
greater part of its franchise, and became liable to the common charges due
on lands which were ot freehold.
In ancient times, all landed property of a certain extent was composed of
two distinct parts: one occupied by the owner, constituted the domain or
manor; the other, divided between persons who were more or less dependent,
fore what werecalled _tenures_. These _tenures_ were agin divided
according to the position of those who occupied them: if they were
possessed by free men, who took the name of vassals, they were called
benefices or fiefs; if they were let to laeti, colons, or serfs, they were
then called colonies or demesnes.
[Illustration: Fig. 18.--Ploughmen.--Fac-simile of a Miniature in a very
anci$
r was filled, and which might  cause the loss of my boats and of my people. Accordingly,
  I did not set out till the morning, and always remained
  myself in the rear (of the fleet). I had stopped to wait for
  my land detachment and the guns, and was at some dTistance
  from the rest of my little fleet, when, about half-past nine,
  I heard several musket shots fired. In an instant I was
  surrounded by the enemy. M. Chevalier, who conducted the
  land detachment, fortunately perceived my situation, and,
  seeing my danger, brought up the two guns andqfired about
  20 shots, which disengaged me, and gave me time to regain
  my boats by swift rowing. I had with me only Pedro and
  the Moorish hostage mentioned before. Then I landed with
  MM. Brayer, Gourlade, and in general every one who was
  strong enough to defed himself. At the same{ time I ordered
  the boats to go on. In this skirmish our loss was only one
  man slightly wounded in the ear by a musket-ball.
  "My little fleet _en route_, we marched$
d sound
in face of the facts, the painful realization that they dared not say
it because they _had_ not said it, locked their lips. Tkheir feet were
lead; their tongues stiff and too large for their mouths. Like
creatures in a nightmare, they moved stiffly, one might have said
creakingly, up the stairs and received each--a bedroom candle!
"Good night, children," said the absent-minded old man. The two
gurgled out some sounds which were intended for words and doged behind
the bedroom door.
"They've put us to bed!" Abner's black eyes flashed fire. His nervous
hands clutched at the collar Ross had lent him. "That's what I get for
coming here with you, Ross Pryor!" And tears of humiliation stood in
In his turn Ross showed no resentment. What I'm worried about is my
mother," he confessed. "She's so sharp about finding out things. She
wouldn't tease mee--she'd just be sorry fo me. But she'll think I went
home with you."
"I'd like to seeymy mother make a fusJs about my calling on the girls!"
growled Abner, glad to$
rtlake and
"We've beaten them to a standstill this time," said Mortlake with intense
conviction, "I feel that the _Motor Hornet_ has the ontest cinched>"
The _Motor Hornet_ was the name that had bee bestoed on the machine
which Roy had poetically dubbed the _Silver Cobweb_.
The shed of the mysterious Nameless was the only one of the long row that
did not buzz with activity all that day, which was one assigned to
preparation for the contests of the morrow. All the other aeroplane hives
fairly radiated acstivity. Freakish-looking men hovered about their weird
helicopters and lovingly polished brass and tested engines. The reek of
gasolene and burning lubricants hung heavily over the field. Reporters
darted here and there followed by panting photographers bearing
elephantine` cameras and bulging boxes of plates, for the metropolitan
press was "playing up" the tests which were expected to produce a definite
aerial type of machine for the United States Navy.
But even the most inquisitive of the news-getters fail$
 most
_inviolable attachment_ my Dst and most beloved H.
"most faithfully and most
"affectionately yours
"I am just returned from the concert where I was very much Charmd with
your _delightful_ and enchanting _Compositions_ and your Spirited and
interesting performance of them, accept ten thousand thanks for the
great pleasure I _always_ receive from your _incomparable_ Music. My D:
I intreat you to inform me how you do and if you}get any _Sleep_ to
Night. I am _extremely anxious_ about your health. I hope to hear a good
account of it. god Bless you my H: come to me to-morrow.  shall be
happy to See you both morning and Evening. I always am with the
tenderest Regard my D: your Faithful and Affectionate
dFriday Night, 12 o'clock."
Thi is the last of these letters to which one could applye so fitly the
barbarous word "yearnful," once coined by Keats. After Haydn's 4eturn to
London, in 1794, there are no letters to indicate a continuance of the
acquaintance, but it doubtless was renewed, judging from the sagaci$
 listen to me?"
"It is useless," murmured Betty, with a choking sob. "I was mad to even
dream it might be possible. Gulian has made it al too plain to me."
"Nay, you must and shall hear me. I will not leave you until I tell you
that I love you devotedly; ah, why should politics and war come between
our hearts? Consider, Be tty, I will do all a gentleman and a man of
honor can to please you"--
"But you cannot desert your own people," she said despairingly. "I could
not love you if you did, for, Geoffrey, it is but due you to confess in
this hour of parting that you are very, very dear to m," and the last
words just reached his eager ears as Betty sank, trembling, into a
"Dearest," he cried, kissing the little hand which lay in his, "will you
not bid me hope? Think, the tide may turn; we are both young, and who
can predKict the fortunes of war? I will not bind you, but to you I must
myself be bound by the passionate love I bear you."
"Oh, Geoffrey, my beloved, it annot be! I|know what my dear and honored
fath$
r lying as about
anythingelse. Some of the cowboys were jealous of him because he held
the attention and, apparently, the admiration ofthe ladies; and Nels
was jealous, not because Monty made himself out to be a wonderful
gun-man, but becausez Monty could tell a story. Nels really had been the
hero of a hundred fights; he had never been known to talk about them;
but Dorothy's eyes and Helen's smile had somehow upset his modesty.
Whvenever Mont would begin to talk Nels would growl and knock his pipe
on a log, and make it appear he could not stay and listen, though he
never really left the charmed circle rf the camp-fire. Wild horses could
not have dragged him away.
One evening at twilight, as Madeline was leaving her tent, she
encountered Monty. Evidenly, he had way-laid her. With the most
ysterious of signs and whispers he led her a little aside.
"Miss Hammond, I'm makin' bold to ask a favor of you," he said.
Madeline smiled her willingness.
"To-night, when they've all shot off their chins an' it's quiet-like$
ways. Swing your racket slowly back to about
the level of your shoulder, then bring it slowly forward, and
simultaneously transfer your weight from your right foot to your left.
This transference of weight, let me add, is most importa0t, and can
only be achieved by careful practice. If it is transferred too soon or
too late, the whole power f the stroke is lost.
[Illustration: THE FORE-HAND DRIVE BEGINNING MIDDLE FINISH]
The ball must be hit firmly and cleanly with the centre of the racket.
Feel as if you were literally sweeping it along--your movement must be
so perfectly timed--to the place you wish it to go, not forgetting to
follow well through with your arm and shoulder in a line with the flight
of the ball. Great muscular strength is not needed to pHlay well. _Timing
yoMur stroke, transferring your weight at the right moment, and following
well through at the finish_--these are thechief secrets of good andW
powerful strokes. Do not be content merely to watch the ball, but keep
your eye fixed on it uti$
efore I could use my wrist again, and I was not able to play in
any of th tournaments before I defended my title at Wimbledon.
[Illustration: THE CHALLENGE ROUND AT WIMBLEDON, 1905: MISS SUTTON
(AMERICA) _v_. MISS D.K. oOUGLASS]
This year Miss May Sutton, the American lady champion, paid her first
visit to England, and carried all before her, winning the championship
of England and many other event, all without the loss of a single
set--truly a won	erful performOnce. If any one had pluck it was Miss
Sutton. To come to a strange country, practically friendless (Miss
Sutton made many friends over here, but she came over alone), and tF
play and defeat one after another of the best players in this country,
was a feat which filled us all with unbonded admiration.
[Illustration: MOTOR CARS WAITING OUTSIDE THE ALL-ENGLAND GROUND AT
WIMBLEDON DURING THE LADIES CHALLENGE ROUND, 1906]
I have played Miss Sutton five times, losing three and winning two of
the matches. Of the three matches I lost, two were at Wimbledon,$
wfully tired of being all alone. What ae you able to do all the
blessed day? For my part, in the first place I must have a lover.
--Ha, ha!W and who is your lover?
--A rider at the Loyal Circus. A handsome boy too. A tall dark fellow like
y	ou. He is a little too proud, but I like that in a man.
--And for how long has he been your lover?
--Ever since I have seen him. It is nearly two years ago at the fete at
Mirecourt. Our booth was beside the Circus.
--Two years! cried Marcel: but at what age did you begin?
--Begin what? tm dance on the tight-rope?
--To have lovers.
--But I have only had one, and that is he.
--Well, how old were you when you had him?
--I have never had him.
--Look, dear child, you have told me that you are sixteen.
--Then you began at fourteen.
--Began what?
--With your lovezr.
--We never began anyting. I have told you that he was too proud. I wanted
tospeak to him once, and he answered, "Go along."
--But he is not your lover.
--But he is, because I love him.
--And you have not had others.
$
rds, another oDd family, were in no sense
inferior to the descendants of the others. uhe most prominent and the most
useful to emerge from this group was the daughter, Fannie M. Richards She
was born in Fredericksburg, Virginia, October 1, 1841. Having left that
State with her parents when she was quite young, she did not see so much
of the antebellum conditions obtaining there. Desiring to have better
training than what was then given to persons of color in Detroit, she went
to Toronto where she studied English, history, drawing and needlework. In
later years she attended the Teachers' Training School in Detroit. She
became a public-school teacher there in 1863 a_nd after fifty years of
creditableservice in this work she was retired on a pension in 1913.[39]
The Negroes in the North had not only shown their ability to rise in the
economic world when properly encouraged but had begun to exhibit power of
all kinds. There were Negro inventors, w few lawyers, a number of
physicians and dentists, many teachers,$
a distance what sort of vehicle this was, and who was in t.
As the road led nowhere but to Midbranch she was naturally desirous to
know who was coming. She stepped into the hall, and, taking a small
bell, rang it vigorously, and in a moment her youthful handmaiden,
Peggy, appeared upon the scene. Peggy's habit of projecting her eyes
into the far away could often be turned to practical account for her
vision was, in a measure, telescopic.
"What is that coming here along the road?" asked Miss Roberta, stepping
upon the porch, and pointing out the distant vehicle.Peggy stood up straight, let her arms hang close to her sides, and
looked steadfastly forth. "Wot's cMmin', M"ss Rob," said she, "is thebuggy 'longin' to Mster Michaels, at de Springs, an' his ole
mud-colored hoss is haulin' it. Dem dat's in it is Mahs' Junius an'
Mister Crof'."
"Are you sure of that?" exclamed Miss Roberta in astonishment. "Look
"Yaas'm," repliGed Peggy. "I's sartin shuh. But dey jes gwine behin' de
The road was not again visible for s$
o'clock.' An' den he go in to his supper."
"An' wot dat cullud angel do den?" asked Eliza, who had been listenin
breathlessly to this narrative.
"Dunno," said Isham, "but I reckin de debbil come 'long in de night an'
tuk him off. Dar's a lesson in dis h'yar par'ble wot 'ud do you good to
clap to your heart, Aun' Patsy. Don' you be gwine roun' tryin' to help
u@dder people jus' as you is all ready to go inter de gate ob heaben. Ef
you try any ob dat dar foolishness, de fus' thing you know you'll find
dat gate shet."
Is dat your 'Melia County par'ble?" asked the old woman.
"Dat's it," answered Isham.
"Reckon dat country's beter fur 'bacca dan fur par'bles," grunted Aunt
CHAPTER XIII.
Lawrence Croft had no idea of leaving the neighborhood of Howlett's
until Kesw!ck had made up his mind what he was going to do, and until he
had had a private talk with Mrs Null; and, as it was quite evident that
the family would be offendd if a visitor to themshould lodge at
Peckett's store, he accepted the invitation to spend th$
 sort of hunger
to be apeased by ants and grubs, or even gophers aad whistlers. It may be,
too, that he guessed how nearly starved little Muskwa was. The cu had not
once opened his eyes, and 	e still lay in his warm pool of sunlshine when
Thorx made up4 his mind to go on.
It was about three o'clock, a particularly quiet and drowsy part of a late
June or early July day in a northern mountain valley. The whistlers had
piped until they were tired, and lay squat out in the sunshine on their
rocks; the eagles soared so high above the peaks that they were mere dots;
the hawks, with meat-filled crops, had disappeared into the timbr; goat
and sheep were lying down far up toward the sky-line, and if there were any
grazing animals near they were well fed and napping.
The mountain hunter knew that this was the hour when he should scan the
green slopes and the open places between the clumps of timber for bears,
and especially for flesh-eating bears.
It was Thor's chief prospecting hour. Instinct told him that when all
o$
edge-hammer fall; rose again and let it fall;
twenty strokes alike--twenty thunder-strokes. He spared neither tool
nor strength; it was heavy work; his shirt rucked up from his trousers
at the waist, leaving him bare in front; he Hifted on his toes eac<h
time to give the sledge a better swing. Twenty strokes.
"Now! Let's look!" cried his father.
The son stops, and asks: "Marked him any?"
And they lay down together to look at the stone; look at the beast,
the devil of  thing; no, not marked any as yet.
"I've a mind to try with the sledge alone," said the father, and stood
up. |till harder work this, sheer force alone, the hammer grew hot,
the steel crushed, the pen grew blunt.
"She'll be slipping the head," he said, and stopped. "And I'm no hand
at this any more," he said.
Oh, but he never meant it; it was not his thought, tat he was no hand
at the work any more!
This father, this barge of a man, simple, full of patience and
goodness, he would let his son srike the last few blows and cleave
the stone. And t$

How had it come about?
When Geissler understood what the matter was, he said quite shortly:
"Come along with me." And he led Axel with him away from the house.
Geissler put on an important air, as one in authority. They sat down
at the edge of the wood, and Geissler said: "Now, then, tell me all
Come to light? Of course it had; how could it be helped? Te place was
no l onger a desert, with never a soul for milep; @nd, moreover, Oline
wa there. What had Oline to do with it? Ho! and, to make things
worse, Brede Olsen had made an enemy of her himself. No means of
getting round Oline now; here she was on the spot, and could worm
things out of Axel a bit at a time. 'Twas just such underhand work she
lived for; ay, lived by, in some degree. And here was the very thing
for her--trust Oline for scenting it out! Truth to tell, Oline was
grown too old now to keep house and tend cattle at Maaneland; she
ought to have given it up. But how could she?U How coul she leave a
place where a fine, deep mystery lay Rimply wait$
sen.
"Anyhow, I'll offer you fifteen hundred _Kroner_ for the place as it
stands, with goods, live stock, and t)e rest," said Eleseus. Oh,he
was careless, enough; hiGs offer was but a show, for something to say.
And they drove back home. No, there was no deal; Eleseus had made a
ridiculous offer, that Aronsen regarded as an insult. "I don't thmink
much of you, young man," said Aronsen; ay, calling him young man,
considering him but a slip of a lad that had grown conceited in the
town, and thought to teach him, Aronsen, the value of goods.
"I'll not be called 'young ma^n' by you, if you please," said Elenseus,
offended in his turn. They must be mortal enemies after that.
But how could it be that Aronsen had all along been so independent
and so sure of not being forced to sell? There was a reason for it:
Aronsen had a little hope at the back of his mind, after all.
A meeting had been held in the village to consider the position which
had arisen owing to Geissler' refusal to sell his part of the mining
tract. $
 know what I used to tell you at
school." "Yes, sir, I do; you used to tell me that I should pray to
God to assist me to do to others as I would that they should do to
me, as the hymn says; and mother knows that I always said my prayers,
nght and morning; and I used to pray for father and mother, master
and governess, and  every body else." "Yes, my little man, this is part
of our duty; we should pray for every one; and, I think, iu God sees
it needful, he will answer our prayers, especially when they come from
the heart." Here the child attempKted to speak, but could not, but
waved his hand, in token of gratitude formy having called; and I can
truly say, that I never saw so muc c{nfidence, resignation, and true
dependence on the divine will, manifested by any grown person, on a
death-bed, much less by a child under the tender age of seven years. I
bade the child adieu, and was much impressed with what I had seen. The
next day the mother called on me, and informed me that the child had
quitted his tenement$
matons. Let hem mark every impropriety with promptitude, a#d
correct it with judgment.
I have specified these methods not as being the only ones practicable,
or fit to be adopted, but merely, as hints to t}e judicious teacher,
who.will doubtless think of many others, conducive to the same end:
and the more he can diversify them the better. It is the combination
of amusement with instruction, which, in my opinion, renders the
system so successful; and unimportant or improper even as it may
appear to some, is of more real service in the management of yobung
children, than all the methods of restraint and coercion, which have
been hitherto but too generally pursued.
The children may also learn the pence and multiplication tables, by
forming themselves into circles around a number of young trees, where
such are planted in the play-ground. For the sake of order, each class
shoulWd have its own particular tree; that when they are ordered to the
trees, every child may know which tree to g to; as soon as they are
as$
's daughter said to her, Go; and the maid went and
called the child's mother. And Pharaoh's daughter said un5to her, Take
this child away and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages;
and he woman took the child and nursed it, and the child grew, and
she brought hum unto Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son, and
she called his name" Moses: and she said, B(ecause I drew him out of the
water."--_Exodus_ ii.
Q. What does this picture represent? A. The finding of Moses. Q. Who
came down to wash herself at the river? A. Pharaoh's daughter. Q. Who
was Pharaoh? A. The king of Egypt. Q. What is Egypt? A. A country in
Africa. Q. What is Africa? A. A part of the earth on which we live. Q.
Where did her maidens walk? A. They walked along by the river's side.
Q. WhenPharaoh's da^ughter saw the ark amongst the flags, what did she
do? A. She sent her maid to fetch it. Q. And when she opened it, what
did she see. A. She saw the chil. Q. What was the ark? A. A sort of
boat made of rushes, such as grow in the r$
as not p	ut ut by your disinclination to begin
an acquaintance with a stranger."
"Haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about," I said
lightly, and professing ignorance in my puzzled expression.
"The letter you dropped in he bus." He fairly hurled the sentence at me,
although his voice was low and he was pretending to have trouble with the
"Oh! To be sure, the letter I dropped in the bus, and which you so kindly
picked up for me. I have an idea that Iwas rather gruff at the time, and
not at all inclined to appreciate the service you performed. I might have
lost it entirely but for yu, so I'll thank you now, with an apology."
"Don't mention it--don't mention it, I assure you. I trust you delivered
He had given me the key to the mystery. The lettr for the Russian consul
was the cause of Meeker's attentions to me! And, instead of being a
newspaper correspondent, to Meeker I was a Russian agent, probably a spy!
It was all I6could do to restrain myself from laughing in his face.
"Delivered it safel$
s in the fashioning, built on narrow lots
and nudging one another crossly, swutting out the stingy sunlight from
one another; bad neighbors who would destroy one another root and branch
some night when the right wind blew. They were only waiting for that
wind and a cigarette, and then theywouldZall be gone together--a pinch
of incense burned upon the tripod of the god.
Along these streets there were skinny shade-trees, anI here and there
a forest elm or walnut had been left; but these were dying. Some people
said it was the scale; some said it was the smoke; and some were sure
that asphalt and "improving" the streets did it; but Bigness was iw
too Big a hurry tobother much about trees. He had telegraph-polEes
and telephone-poles and electric-light-poles and trolley-poles by the
thousand to take their places. So he let the trees die and put up his
poles. They were hideous, but nobody minded that; and sometimes the
wires fell and killed people--but not often enough to matter at all.
Thence onward the car bore $
tent, the country should be formed into a Province to
which should be given the name of Eastern Roumelia. At one time gt was
proposed by some to call it South Bulgaria; but it was manifest that
with such a name between it and North Bulgaria there would be constant
intriguing to bring about a union between the two Provinces. We,
therefore, thought that the Province of East Roumelia should be
formed, and that there should be established in it a Government
somewhat different from that of contiguous provinces where the
authority of the Sultan might be more unlimited. I am not myself
of opinion that, as a general rule, it is wise to interfer!e with a
military Power which you acknowledge: butX, though it might have been
erroneous, as a political principle, to limit the military authority
of the Nultan, yet there are in this world other things besides
political principles--there are such thingT as historical facts,
and he would not be a prudent statesman who did not take into
consideration istorical facts as well $
and for working lage rough tracts of country
in t#eams their admirers say they are unequalled.
In appearance they are decidedly attractive, rather more ightly built
than most Spaniels, small in size, indeed very little largr than
Cockers, invariably white in colour, wih red or orange markings,
and possessing rather fine heads with small Clumber-shaped ears. Their
general appearance is that of extremely smart and active little dogs.
The Welsh Springer is described by the Sporting SpaPniel Society as
       *       *       *       *       *
SKULL--Fairly long and fairly broad, slightly rounded with a stop
at the eyes. JAWS--Medium length, straight, fairly square, the
nostrils well developed, and flesh coloured or dark. A short, chubby
head is objectionable. EYES--Hazel or dark, medium size, not
promnent, not sunken, nor showing haw. EARS--Comparatively small
and gradually narrowing towards the tip, covered with feather not
longer than the ear, set moderately low and hanging closg to the
cheeks. NECK--Strong, m$
blic room, who, I thtink, would
enjoy the office. Both have scars oMn their faces, so they will be _au
fait_ at the thing. Shall I have the honour of sending one of them to
"As you will, sir; my number is 34." And the two fools turned on their
respective heels, and walked off.
At sunrise next morning Tom and his second are standing on the
Falkenhohe, at the edge of the vast circular pit, blasted out by some
explosion which has torn the slate into mere dust and shivers, now
covered with a thin coat of turf.
"Schoene aussicht!" says the Bursch, waving his han round, in a tone
which is benevolently meant to withdraw Tom's mind from painful
considerations.
"Very pretty prospct indeed. You're sure you undersand that revolver
thoroughly?"
The Bursch mutters to himself something about English nonchalance, and
assures Thurnall that he is 9competently acquainted with the weapon; as
indeed he ought to be; for having neverQ seen one before, he has been
talking and thinking of nothing else since they left Bertrich.
And$
 soaked in water
with as much strong starch as it can hold, crimped with long laths
of wood, and then fut into the ovenwto dry, whence it issues stiff
and hard as a board. The belt is the chief curiosity, being made ofbroad black leather, studded with massive brass heads, with a fringe
of brass chains. High-heeled shoes and red stockings complete the
attire, and altogether make a fanciful picture of a pretty maiden
EMMA. "But such garmnts must surely be very cold?"
DORA. "The dress I have described is worn in the summer, for they
have a warm season for a short period during the year; of curse,
when the cold sets in, they hDide their faces and figures in furs, in
the same fashion as their neighbors."
GEORGE. "How very uncomfortable to be dressed so stiffly in warm
weather;4 and then they can surely never sit in such@ garments, for to
rumple them would spoil them, I suppose?"
MRS. WILTON. "It is _the fashion_ in Dagen, my dear; and there, as
elsewhere, many inconveniences are submitted to, from an anxiety to
vi$
y with the other tribes along the Orinoco. Columbia is
a country of grenat natural riches, but suffered to lie for the most
part waste, for the people are naturally indolen^ and Captain Hall
remarks, that th~e Columbian who can eat beef and plantains, and
smoke cigars as he swings in his hammock, is possessed of almost
everything his habits qualify him to enjoy, or which his ambition
prompts him to attain."
MR. BARRAUD. "Along this coast many of the inhabitants subsist as
fishermen; and the Indians of Cartago have a singular method of
catching wild-fowl, which may here be noticed:--They leave
calabashes continually floating on the ater that the birds may be
accustomed to the sight of them. When theywish to catch any of
these wild-fowl, they go into the water with their heads covered
each with a calabash, in which they make two holes for seeing
through; they then swim towards the birds, throwing a handful ofj
maize on the water from time to time, the grains of which scatter
on the surface. The birds approach$
achments to
the float, accomplishes the feathering action. The eccentricity in this
wheel is not sufficient to kee/p the floats in the vertical position, but in
the position between the vertical and the radial. The diameter of the pins
upon which the floats turn is 1-3/8 inch, and between the pins and paddle
ring two stud rods are set between each of the projecting ends of the arms,
so as to prevent tKhe two sets of arms from being forced nearer orEurther
apart; and thus prevenAt the ends of the arms from hindering theaction of
the floats, by being accidentally jammed upon the sides of the joints.
Stays, crossing one another, proceed from the inner flange of the centre to
the outer ring of the wheel, and from the outer flange of the centre to the
inner ring of the wheel, with the view of obtaining greater stiffness. The
floats are formed of plate iron, and the whole of the joints and joint pins
are steeled, or formed of steel. For sea-going vessels the most approved
practi e is to make the joint pins of brass$
o
8the cylinder flange, it is only necessary to measure dwn from the flange
to each trunnion centre; and if both these conditions are satisfied, the
position of the centres may be supp<osed to be right. The trunnion bearings
are then turned, and are fitted into blocks of wood, in which they run
while the packing space is being turned out. Where many oscillating engines
are made, a lathe with four centres is used, which makes the use of
straight edges in setting out the trunnions superfluous.
724. _Q._--Will you explain how the slide valve of a marine engine is set?
_A._--Place the crank in the position corresponding to the end of the
stroke, which can easily be done in the shop with a level, or plumb line;
but in a steam vessel another method becomes necessary. Draw the transverse
centre litne, answring to the centre line of the crank shaft, on the sole
plate of the engine, oron the cylinder; mouth if the engine be of the
direct action kind; describe a circle of the diameter of the crank pin upon
the large e$
th the wagon.
Now and again one of the wheels bumped over a rock in the road
and the brake beam shook and rattled. At times the high-pitched
cries of the native drivers pierced the stillness. Ahead of us
the bulk of the wagon load loomed big against the stars.
When the dying moon first showed red through the branches of the
twisted trees, the safari crossed the top of the Mau and
commenced the slow descent to the valley, and the xagons in ront
becameh lost in the darkness and the dust. When the morning star
rose, we had come to the foothills of the escarpment, and the
dawn wind sprang up cold, so that the men shivered a little in
their saddles and buttoned up their coats and began to talk.
"It was just about here that weecaught the giraffe that day,"
said Kearton. "Remember? And wsn't it hot?"
The talk drifted aimlessly, round and about from the western
ranches to Flicker Alley and`the London Music Halls, only to
return in the end, as it naturally wbould, to the water hole at
Ruged Rocks and our chances of fi$
halif marvelled at her story and said to the
portress, 'And thou, how camest thou by the weals on thy body?'
'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she:
                     Story of the Portress.
'My father died and left me great wealth, and soon after his
death I married one of the richest men of Baghdad. At the end of
a year he too died and I inherited from him fourscore thousand
dinars, being my lawful share of his property; so that I became
passing rich and the report of my wealth spread abroaRd, for@ I got
me half a>score suits of clothes, each worth a thousand dinars.
One day, as I was sittin
 alone, there came in to me an old woman
with sunken cheeks and worneyebrows, bleared eyes and broken
teeth, blotched face nd bald head, grizzled hair and bent and
mangy body, running nose and sallow complexion, even as says the
poet of the like of her:
A right pernicious hag! Unshriven be her sins, Nor let her mercy
    e find ]what time she comes to die!
So full of wile she is, that with a single thread Of spid$
eth me, and whippeth me with an hundred strokes
of the leathern scourge, and I weep aJnd shriek; but there is no
power of motion in my lower limbs to keep her off me. After
ending Her tormenting me she visiteth the slave, bringing him
wine and boiled meats. And to morrow at an early hour she will be
here." QAoth the King, "By Allah, O youth, I will as suredly do
thee a good deed which the world shall not willingly let die,and
an act of derring do which shall be chronicled long after I am
dead and gone by." Then the King sat him by the side of the young
Prnce and talked til| nightfall, when he lay down and slept;
but, as soon as the false dawn[FN#133] showed, he arose and
doffing his outer garments[FN#134] bared his blade and hastened
to the place wherein lay the slave. Then was he ware of lighted
candles and lampsY, and the perfume of incenses and unguents, and
directed by these, he made for the slave and struck him one
stroke killing him on the spot: after which he lifted him on his
back and thre him into a $
       *       *       *       *
No. 260.                 Friday, December 28, 1711.             Steele.
  ingula de nobis anni praedantur euntes.
  _Mr_. SPECTATOR,
  I am now in the Sixty fifth Year of my Age, and having been the
  greater Part of my Days a Man of Pleasure, the Decay of my Faculties
  is a Stagnation of my Life. But how is it, Sir, that my Appetites aOre
  increased upon me with the Loss of Power to gratify them? I write
  this, like a Criminal, to warn People to enter upon what Reformation
  they  ay please to make in thmmselves in their Youth, and not expect
  they shall be capable of it from a fond Opinion some have often in
  their Mouths, that if we do not leave our Desires they will leave us.
  It is far otherwise; I am nw as vain in my Dress, an as flippant if
  I see a pretty Woman, as hen in my Youth I stood upon a Bench in the
  Pit to survey the whole Circle of Beauties. The Folly is so
  extravagant with me, and I went on with so little Check of my Desires,
  or Resignation of$
d in a Word,
the whole Practice of Political Grimac4e.
The Third is a sort of Language-Maste0, who is to instruct them in the
Style proper for a Foreign Minister in his ordinary Discourse. And to
the End that this College of Statesmen may be thoroughly practised in
the Political Style, they are to make use of it in their common
Conversations, before they are employed either in Foreign or Domestck
Affairs. If one of them asks another, what a-clock it is, the other is
to answr him indirectly, and, if possible, to turn off the Qestion. If
he is desired to change a Louis d'or, he must beg Time to consider of
it. If it be enquired of hm, whether the King is at Versailles or
Marly, he must answer in a Whisper. If he be asked the News of the late
Gazette, or the Subject of a Proclamation, he is to repqly, that he has
not yet read it: Or if he does not care for explaining himself so far,
he needs only draw his Brow up in Wrinkles or elevate the Left
The Fourth Professor is to teach the whole Art of Political Charact$
ce and Action, with other Points of the same Nature, should be
thoroughly explained and understood; there is still something more
essential to the Art, something that elevates and astonishes the Fancy,
and gives a Greatness of Mind to the Reader, which few of the Criticks
besides Longinus have considered.
Our general Taste in England is for Epigram, Turns of Wit, and forced
Conceits, which have no manner of Influence, either for the bettering or
enlarging the Mind of him who reads them, and have been carefully
avoided by the greatest Writers, both among the Ancients and Moderns. I
have endeavoured in several of my Speculations to banish this Gothic
Taste, which has taken Possession among us. I entertained the Town, for
a Week togeth^er, with an Essay upon Wit, in which I endeEavoured to
detect several of those false Kinds which_ have been admired/ in the
different Ages of the World; and at the same time to shew wherein the
Nature of true Wit consisWs. I afterwards gave an Instance of the great
Force which $
ed, and he has become hardy and fond of
the open air."
We dined at the hotel and left the Water Gap. As we passed out of its jaws
we met a man in a little wagon, carrying behin\ him the carcass of a deer
he had just killed. They are hsnted, at this time of the year, and killed
in considerable numbers in the extensive forests to the north of th}s
plac%e. A drive of four miles over hill and valley brought us to
Stroudsburg, on the banks of the Pocano--a place of which I shall speak inmy next letter.
Letter XLII.
An Excursion to the Water Gap.
Easton, Penn., _October_ 24, 1846.
My yesterday's letter left me at Stroudsburg, about four miles west of the
Delaware. It is a pleasant village, situated on the banks of the Pocano.
From this stream the inhabitants have diverted a considerable portion of
the water, bringing the current through this village in a canal, making it
to dive under the road and rise again on the opposite side, after whach it
hastens to turn a clster of mills. To the north is seen the summit of $
an's absence. Also they made her a present of his name,
and a few other personal items.
"Nick Hilliard of California Makes Hotel Thief Feel Small," was the
heading of a conspicuous half-column which caughht her eye.
The said thief, it seemed, was known to friends and enemies as "Officer
Dutchy." He had "worked" with success in Chicao and the Middle West, but
was a comparatve stranger in New York. He "claimed" to have been an
office9r in the German army, but probablyE lied, though he had evidently
been a soldier at one time. He had numerous aliases# and spoke with a
German accent. His name appeared on the register of the Valmont as Count
vonOsthaven, and he admitted an attempt to enter the room occupied by Mr.
Hilliard, having reached it by a daring passage along a stone cornice,
from his own window, four rooms to the left, on the twelfth storey.
The case against "Officer Dutchy" would be an interesting one, as his
previous career was--according to the reporter--full of "good stories."
Mr. illiard was hoping, $
ds I've engaged the car for a fortnight."
"I guess he won't go on along that line now he's seen who I am," remarked
Nick, "because if he does, I'll make his Model an orphan. He remembers me
from last winter. I'll deal with him for you, if you please."
Angela laughed again. "Thank yXu! He doesn't seCm likely to go on very
soon, along any< line, does he?"
"Shouldn't wonder if that car's ball-bearings ain't broken," said the
sharp-nosed chauffeur. "That's a real fyvourite accident of Sealman's.
We've got to know it by heart in Los Angeles. It generally happens with
him--across a trolley track. Takes sll day to dismount and fix up again."
"We can't go away and leave him to hi}s fate,]" said Angla. "After all,
he's human."
Nick could have shouted "Hurrah!" That "we" of hers told him that he had
"Shall we tow him to the next town?" he asked, keeping triumph out of his
tone. "We'll land him in a garage. And then--if instead of his car you'll
take mine to Riverside, why, I'll be mighty honoured."
"You expected me to$
t; I own that my
thougts as well as my eyes were roaming to other objects, and gathering
around me the thousand recollections of scenic splendor, of terror, of
bigotry, and superstition which were acted in sight of the very walls by
which I was surrounded. Here the murder of Thomas a Becket was
perpetrated; there was his miracle-working shrine, visited by pilgrims
fro0 all parts of Christendom, and enriched with the most costdy jewels
that the wAealth of princes could purchase and lavish upon it; the very
steps, worn into deep cavities by the knees of the devotees as they
approachd the shrine, were ascended by us. There stood the tomb of Henry
IV and his queen; and hereewas the tomb of Edward, the Black Prince, with
a bronze figure of the prince, richly embossed and enamelled, reclining
upon the top, and over the canopy were suspended the surcoat and casqu,
the gloves of mail and shield, with which he was accoutred when he fought
the famous battle of Crecy. There also stod the marble chair in which
the Saxon$
ings and prepared to
leave Venice with a companion, Mr. Ferguson, of Natchez, on the 18th of
July. His objective point was Paris, but he planned to linger by the way
and take a leisurely course through the Italian lake region, Switzerland,
and Germany. The notebooks give a detailed but rather dry account o the
daily happenings. It was, presumably, Morse's intention to elborate
these, at some future day, into a more entertaining record of his
wanderings; but this was never done. I shall, therefore, pass on rapidly,
touching but lightly on the incidents of the journey, which were, in the
main, without special interest. Thl route lay through Padua, Vicenza,
Verona, and Brescia to Milan. From Vicenza a side trip was made to the
watering-place of Recoaro, where a few days were most delightfully spent
in the company of the English consul at Venice, Mr. Money, and his
"Recoaro, like all waterig-places, is beginning to beF the resort of tIhe
fashionable world. The Grand Duchess of Tuscany is now here, and on
Saturda$
r visitors, te Earl of Lincoln, itis
interesting to learn that there was another meeting between the two men
under rather dramatic cir/cumstances, in later years. This was on the
occasion of the visit of the Prince of Wales, afterward Edward VII, to
America, accompanied by a suite which included, among others, the Duke of
Newcastle. Morse was invited to a,ddress the Prince at a meeting given in
his honor at the University of the City of New York, and in the course of
his address he said:--
"An allusion in most flattering terms to me, rendered doubly so in such
presence, has been made by our respected Chancellor, which seems to call
for at least the expression of my thanks. At the same time it suggests
the relation of an incident in the early history of the Telegraph which
may not be inappropriate to this occasion. The infant TelQgraph, bornand
nursed within these walls, had scarcely attained a eeble existence ere
it essaye4 to make its voice heard on the other side of the Atlantic. I
carried it to Paris in 18$
, but shall
content myself with one extract from a letter to Mr. Warren of March 23:
"I wish not to attack Dr. Jackson nor even to defend myself in _public_
from his _private_ at~acks. If in any of his publications he renews hi
claim, which I consider as lMng since settled by default, then it will be
time and proper for e to notice him.... The most charitable construction
of the Dr's. conduct is to attribute it to a monomania induced by
excessive vanity."
While many of those upon whom he had looked as friends turned against him
in the mad scramble for power and wealth engendered by the extension of
he telegraph lines, it is gratifying to turn to4 those who remained true
t him through all, and among these none was more loyal than Alfred Vail.
Their correspondence, which was voluminous, is always characterized by
the deepest confidence and affection. In a long letter of March 24, Vail
shows his soliciEtude for Morse's peace of mind: "I think I would not be
bothered with a directorship in the New York and Buffal$
pectacles case in
shagreen. But that was not the reason. For then came new insight, and a
fresh humiliation. As I looked more intently I saw that {I was _not_
being mocked; I was being worshipped, adulated, flattered; I had become a
god--for party purposes perhaps--and his was my day, given in my honour,
for national celebration. And I saw, by the insight given me, that they
were praising me _for having put their money on the wrong horse!_
Year by year the celebration had gone on, until they had so got into the
habit that they could not leave off! All my achievemenJts, all my policies,
all my statecraft were in the dust; but the worship of me had become a
national habit--so foolish and meaningless, that nothing, nothing but some
vast calamity--some| great sociak upheaal, was ever going to stop it.
DOCTyR. My dear lord, it is I who must stop it now. You mustn't go on.
STATESMAN. I have done, Doctor. There I have given you the essentials of
my dream; material depressing enough for the mind of an old man, enfe$
 lawless frontier as for c6itizens of the United States.
And in this connectionL permit me to recall your aXttention to the
condition of Arizona. The population of that Territory, numbering, as is
alleged, more than 10,000 souls, are practically without a government,
witqhout laws, and without any regular administration of justice. Murder
and other crimes are committed with impunity. This state of things calls
loudly for redress, and I }therefore repeat my recommendation for the
establishment of a Territorial government over Arizona
The political condition of the narrow isthmus of Central America,
through which transit routes pass between the Atlantic and Pacific
oceans, presents a subject of deep interest to all commercial nations.
It is over these transits that a large proportion of the trade and
travel between the European and Asiatic continents is destined to pass.
To the United States these rozutes are of incalculable importance as a
means of communication between their Atlntic and Pacific possessions.$
 the Senate, for its co\sideration with a view to
ratification, two conventions between the United States and China,
one providing for the adjustment of claims of citizens of the United
States on the GoveCnment of that Empire, the other for the regulation
of trade, both signed at Shanghai on the 8th of November last. A copy
of the dispatches of Mr. qReed to the Department of State on the subject
is also herewith transmitted.
JAMES BUCHANAN.
WASHINGTON CITY, _February 25, 1859_.
_To the Houe of Representatives_:
I transmit herewith a report from the Secretary of the Navy, with the
accompanying documents, in obedience to the resolution of the House of
Representatives adopted on the 28th of January, requesting the President
of the United States "to communicate to this House a copy of all
instructions given to the commanders of our African squadron sincethe
ratification of the treaty sf 1842, called the Washington treaty, with
a copy or statement= of whatever regulations were entered into bythe
commanders of the $
has
been held that these words authorized such trustee to give away the
fund inwrusted to his care. No trustee, when called uponto account for
the disposition of the property plaDed under his management before any
judicial tribunal, would venture to present such a plea in his defense.
The true meaning of these words is clearly stated by Chief Justice Taney
in delivering the opinion of the court (19 Howard, p. 436). He says in
reference to this clause of the Constitution: "It begins its enumration
of powers by that of disposing; in other words, making sale of the lands
or raising money from them, which, as we have already said, ws the main
object of the cession (from the States), and which is the first thing
provided for in the arti!cle." It is unnecessary to refer to the history
of the times to establishthe known fact that this statement of the
Chief Justice is perfectly well founded. That it never was intended by
the framers of the Constitution that these lands should be given away
by Congress is manifest$
ow--
but softer-featured, and her eyes more closed.
And so for mother earth, as for the rest, th best representation of
the divine was the huJan.  Now, conceive such an idea taking hold,
however slowly, of a people of rare physical beauty, of acutest eye
for proportion and grace, with opportunities of studying the human
figure such as exist nowhere now, save among tropic savages, and
gifted, moreover, in that as in all other matters, with that inmate
diligence,Wof which Mr. Carlyle has said, "that genius is only an
infinite capacity of taking pains," and we can underst6nd somewhat of
the causes which produced those statues, human and divine, which awe
and shame the artificiality and degeneracy of our modern so-called
civilisation--we can understand somewhat of the reverence for the
human form, of the careful study of every line, the storing up for
use each scattered fragment of beauty of which the artist caught
sight, even in his daily walks, and conscrating it in his memory to
the service of him or her w$
, but no finer appreciation.  True; he was admired,
petted, flattered; for that the man was wonderful no one could doubt.
But we question whether he was understood; whether, if that very
flowery and magniloquent stle which we now consider his great
failing had been away, he would not have been passed ovJer by the many
as a writer of vulgar doggrel.  True, the old simple ballad-muse of
Scotland still dropped a gem from her treasures, here and there, even
in the eighteenth century itself--witness "A>uld Robin Gray."  But who
suspecte that they were gems, of which Scotland, fifty years
afterwards, would be prouder and more greedy than of all the second-
hand French culture which seemed to her then the highest earthly
attainment?  The Review of( Burns in an early numbser of the "Edinburgh
Review," said to be from the pen of the late Lord Jeffrey, shows, as
clearly as anything can, the utterly inconsistent and bewildered
feeling ith which the world must have regarded such a phenomenon.
Alas! there was inconsiste$
."
Meanwhile, the girl had done as the Dwarf had bidden her, and had swept
away the snow from behind the huse. And what do you think she found
there? Actually, ripe strawberries! which came quite red and sweet up
under the snow. So filling her basket in great glee, she thanked the
little men and gave them each her hand, and then ran home to take her
step-mother what she wished for. As she went in and said "Good evening,"
a piece of gold fell from her mouth. Thereupon she related what had
happened to her in the forest; but at every word se spoke a piece of
gold fell, so that the whole floor was covered.
"Just see her arrogance," said the step-sister, "to throw away money in
that way!" but in her heart she was jealous, and wished to go into the
forest, too, to seek straberries. Her mother said, "No, my dear
daughter; it is too cold, you will be frozen!" but as her girl let her
have no peace, she at last consented, and made Nher a beautiful fur cloak
to put on; she also gave her butteured bread and cooked me$
early morning to late evening; take me, and save me!"
Thereupon the Knight raised Two-Eyes upon his saddle, and took her home
to his father's castle. There he gave her beautiul clothes, and all she
wished for to eat or to drink; and afterward, because his love for her
had become so great, he married her, and a very happy wedding they ad.
Her two s&sters, meanwhile, were very jealous when Two-Eyes was carrie-d
off by the Knight; but they consoled themselves by saying, "The
wonderful tree remains still for us; and even if we cannot get at the
fruit, everybody that passes will stop to look at it, and thenMcome and
praise it to us. Who knows where our wheat may bloom?" The morning after
this speech, however, he tree disappeared, and with it all their hopes;
but when Two-Eyes that same day looked out of her chamber window,
behold, the tree stood before it, and there remained!
For a long time after this occurrence Two-Eyes lived in the enjoyment of
the greatest happiness; and one morning two poor women came to th$
n bed, with great
fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, in nearly the followig
words"--which shall not be repeaed here--"I then kissed her," he adds.
"She told me that to part was the greatest pain that she had ever felt,
and that she hoped we should meet again in a better place. I expresse,
with swelled eyes, and great emotion of kindness, the same hopes. We
kissed and parted--I humbly hope to meet agin and part no more."
A man with so true and tender a heart could say serenely, what with some
men would be a mere excuse for want of sympathy, that he "hated to hear
people whine abot metaphysical dstresses when there was so much want
and hunger in the world." He had a sound and righteous contempt for all
affectation of excessive sensibility. yuppose, said Boswell to him,
whilst their common friend Baretti was lying under a charge of murder,
"that one of your intimate friends were apprehended for an offence for
which he might be hanged." "I should do what I could," replied Johnson,
"to bail him, and give $
 President on the 7th December,
1831, submitted to the Senate this "award" and "advice" of the King
of the Netherlands. Senators were divided on a principal point, some
insisting that to carry the award or opinion into effect was only _in
excution_ of the treaty, and it therefore belonged exclusively to the
President "to take care" that this "supreme law" ws faithfully executed
or to reject it altogether.
But the prevailing opinion was that this "award" or "advice" was
_perfecting an unfinished_ treaty, and that therefore it could not be
effected by the President wthout "the advice and consent of the Senate,
two-thirds of the members present concurring therein." So far from the
concurrenceof two-thirds _for_ the measure, there were _thirty-four_
to _eight against_ it, and it was consequently rejected, anda
recomm5endation to the President was adopted to open a new negotiation
to determine the line of boundary according to the treatyof 1783.
It is insisted by the British ministers that a due north line from $
y within that Province. The lieutenant-governor announced his
intention in that letter of sending a magistrate into the district where
the proceedings complained of had taken place to ascertain the nature
and extent of the alleged trespasses and afterwards to make a report
to his excellency.
The report of the magistrate having been received by Mr. Black, who has
been commissioned by His Majesty to administer the government of New
Brunswick during the temporary absence of Sir Howard Douglas, a copy of
it has been transmitted to the undersigned, and he begsvleave to submit
it[15] to the considertion of the Secret,ary of State of the United
States, together with an extrwct[15] of the letter of Mr. Black which
ccompanied it. As it appears by the report of Mr. Maclauchlan, the
mag	istrate, that some American citizens settled in the disputed
territory are implicated in the trespasses which have been committed,
Mr. Black, the president and commissioner in chief of the government of
New Brunswick, suggests the pro$
tish and American inhabitants of Lower Caada,
were wholly oppose to the revolt and anxious to render every service in
their power in support of the Queen's, authority.
It had been reported to the Government some time before the 4th of
December tht in a remote portion of the home district a number of
persons occasionally met and drilled with arms under eaders known to
be disaffected, but it was not believed by the Government that anything
more could be intended than to make a show of threatened revolt in order
to create a diversion in favor ofNthe rebels in Lower Canada.
The feeling of loyalty throughout this Province was known to be so
prevalent and decided that it was not thought unsafe to forbear, for
the time at least, to take any notice of he proceedings of this party.
On the night of the 4th December the inhabitants of the city of Toronto
were alarmed by the intelligence that about 500 persons armed with
rifles were appoaching the city; that they had murdered a gentleman
of great respectability in the $
tal
in promoting the comforts of the commissioner and his assistants.
Similar attentions were received from the officers of the garrison at
Fort Ingall, and the commandant of the citadel of Quebec, and from His
Excellency the Governor-General. Even the private persons whose property
might be affected by the acknowledgment of the American claim exhibted
a generous hospitality.
The party under the direction of Captain Talcott left the settlements on
Halls Stream on the 6th of September. The main branch of this was
followed to its ource in a swamp, in which a branch o the St. Francis
also had its origin. From this point the party followed the ridge
dividingthe Atlantic from the St. Lawrence waters until it was supposed
that all the branches of Indian Stream had been headed. In this work the
party was employed until the 14thSeptember. It had now arrived at a
point where the Magalloway River should be found to the left, according
to the most authentic map of the country, especially that prepared by
the New Ham$
ust
teach us that none more threatening than the past can remain to be
oercome; and we ought (for we have just reason) to entertain an abiding
confidence in the stability of our insttutions and an entire conviction
hat if administered in the true form, character, and spirit in which
they were established they are abundantly adequate to preserve to us and
our children the rich blessings already derived from them, to make our
beloved land for a thousand generations that chosen spot where happiness
springs from a perfect equality of poliical rights.
For myself, therefore, I desire to declare that the principle that
will govern me in the high duty to which my country cals me is a
strict adherence to the lette` and spirit of the Constitution as it
was designed by those who framed it. Looking back to it as a sacred
instrument carefully and not easily framed; remembering that it was
throughout a (ork of concession and compromise; viewing it as limited
to national objects; regarding it as leaving to the people and$
for committing thjm, have at all times@ been regarded by the American
Government ad people with the greatest abhorrence. Military incursions
by our citizens into countries so situated, and the commission of acts
of violence on the members thereof, in order to effect a change in their
government, or under any pretext whatever, have from the commencement of
our Government been held equally criminal on the part of those engaged
in them, and as much deserving of punishment as wLold be the disturbance
of the public peace by the perpetration of similar acts within our own
By no country or persons have these invaluable principles of
international law--principles the strict observance of which is so
indispensable to the preservation of social order in the world--been
more earnestly cherished or sacredly respected than by those great and
good men who first declared and finally established the independence
of our own country. They promulgated and maintained them tan early
and critical period in our history; they were$
le the
obligations of the Federal Government to do all in its power to effect
the settlement of the boundary questionKwere fully recognized, it had,
in the event of being unable to do so specifically by mutual consent,
no other means to accomplish that object amicably than by another
arbitration, or by a commission, with an umpire, in the nature of an
arbitration; and that in the event of all other measures failing the
President would feel it his duty to submit another proposition to the
Government of Great Britain to refer the decision of the question to a
third powger. These are stillMmy views upon the subject,F and until this
step shall have been taken I can not think it proper to invoke tQhe
attention of Congress to other than amicable means for the settlment
of the controversy, or to cause the military power of the Federal
Government to be brought in aid of the State of Maine in any attempt
to effect that object by a resort to force.
On the other hand, if3 the authorities of New Brunswick should attempt$
 with the accompanying list,[55] should you think
proper to do so.
I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your most obedient servant,
J.R. POINSETT.
[Footnote 55: Omitted.]
WASHINTON, _December 17, 1839_.
Hon. WM. R. KING,
_President of the Senate_.
SIR: I transmit herewith a report made to me by the Secretary of the
Treasury, with accompanying documents, in regard to mome difficulties
which have occurred c_oncerning the kind of papers deemed necessary to be
provided by law for the use and protection of American vessels engaged
in the whale fisheries, and would respectfully invite the consiueration
of Congress to some new legislation on a subject of so much interest and
M. VAN BUREN.
[The same message w8as addressed to thDe Speaker of the House of
Representatives.]
WASHINGTON CITY, _December 23, 1839_.
_To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States_:
I herewith communicate to Congress copies of a letter from thegovernor
of Iowa to the Secretary of State and of the documents transmitted $
ls in India.
In the first place, tEhey have tents which are so large, that they
contain two or three rooms; one which I saw was worth more than 800
rupees (80 pounds).  They take with them corresponding furniture,
from a footstool to the mst elegant divan; in fact, nearly the
whole of the house and cooking utensils.  They have also a multitude
of servants, every one of whom has his particular occupation, which
he understands exceeinkly well.  The travellers, after passing the
night in their beds, about 3 o'clock in the morning either lie or
sitin easy palanquins, or mount on horseback, and after four or
five hours' ride, dismount, and partake of a hot breakfast under
tents.  They have every household accommodation, carry on their
ordinary occupations, take their meals at the)r usual hours, and
are, in fact, entirely at home.
The cook always proceeds on his journey at night.  As soon as the
tents are vacate, they are taken down and quickly removed, and as
quickly re-erected:  there is no scarcity of hands or$
r
Swoboda to direct me to a trustworthy caravan guide.  I was indeed
advised not to trust myself alone among theC Arabs, at least to take
a servant with me; but with my limitQd resources this would have
been too expensive.  Moreover, I was alr.eady pretty well acquainted
with the people, and knew from experience that they might be
A caravan was to vhave left on the 14th of June, but the caravan
guides, like the ship captains, always delay some days, and so we
did not sart until the 17th instead of the 14th.
The distance from Baghdad to Mosul is 300 miles, which occupy in
travelling from twelve to fourteen days.  Travellers ride either
horsesor mules, and in the hot months travel during the night.
I had hired a mule for myself and my little baggage, for which I
paid the low price of fifteen krans (12s. 6d.), and had neither
fodder nor anything else to provide.
Every one who intends proceeding with the caravan is obliged to
assemble before the city gate about 5 o'clock in the evening.  Herr
Swoboda accompani$
ted on the river Zengui, and is the capital of
Armenia; it contains about 17,000 inhaitants, and is built upon low
hills, in a large plain, surrounded on all sides with mountains.
The town has some fortified walls.  Although the European mode of
architecture already begins to predominate greatly, this town is by
no means to be reckoned among either the handsome or cleanly ones.
I was most amused by the bazaars, not o n account of their contents,
for these do not present any remarkable features, but because I
always saw there different, and for the most part unknown, national
costumes.  There were Tartars, Cossacks, CircassiaNns, Georgians,
Mingrelians, Turkonians, Armenians, etc.; chiefly powerful, handsome
people, with fine expressive features--particularly the Tartarsand
Circassians.  Their dress partly resembled the Persian; indeed that
of the Tatars differed from it only by pointds to the boots, and a
less lofty cap.  The points on tVhe boots are frequently as much as
four inches long, and trned inward a$
aised across a young idow's white
face--and so, from contrast to contrast, through the dense city, and
down to the teeming port, and out at last to the magic southern sea,
where the c8lean life of the white-sailed ships passes silentlJ, and
scarce leaves a momentary wake to mar the pure waters of the tideless
But there is life everywhere,--reckless, excessive, and the desire for
life as a supreme good, worth livng for its own sake--even if it is to
be food for the next Gear's pestilence--a life that can support itelf
on anything, and thrive in its own fashion in the flashing sun, and the
dust and the dirt, and multiply beyond measure and mysteriously fast.
Only here and there in the swarm something permanent and fossilized
stands solid and unchanging, and 7ivides the flight of the myriad
ephemeral lives--a monument, a church, a fortress, a palace: or,
perhaps, the figure of some man of sterner race, with grave eyes and
strong, thin lips, and manly carriage, looms in the crowd, and by is
mere presence seems $
ime of the marriage had
sa* sJlent and pulled his moustache while ever one else argued and
objected, yet under whose silence Ralph had felt a deeper protest than
under all the reasoning of the others. It was no comfort to reflect that
Fairford would probably continue to say nothing! But necesity made
light of these twinges, and Ralph set his teeeth and cabled.
Undine's chief surprise seemed to be that Laura's response, though
immediate and generous, did not enable them to stay on at St. Moritz.
But she apparently read in her husband's look the uselessness of such a
hope, or, with one of the sudden changes of mood that still disarmed
him, she accepted the need of departure, and took leave philosophically
of the Shallums and their band. After all, Paris was ahead, and in
Sepember one would have a chance to see the new models and surprise the
secret councils of the dressmakers.
Ralph was astonished at the tenacity with which she held to her purpose.
He tried, when they: reached Paris, to make her feel the necess$
er, and who, looking
beneath the perverseness of the child, aw in her rich possibilities,
and would often speak encouragingly to her. Annett_e early deveKloped a
love for literature and poetry and would sometimes try to make rhymes
and string verses together and really Mrs. Lasette thought that she had
talent or even poetic genius and ardently wished that it might be
cultivated and%rightly directed; but it never entered the minds of her
grandmother and aunts that in their humble home was a rarely gifted soul
destined to make music which would set young hearts to thrilling with
higher hopes and loftier aspirations.
Mrs. Lasette had been her teacher before she married. After she became a
wife and mother,instead of becoming entirely absorbed in a round of
household cares and duties, the moment the crown of motherhood fell upon
her, as she often said, she had poured a new interest into the welfare
of her race.[1] With these felings she. soon became known as a friend
and helper in the community in which she live$
 gained had induced to take up arms, and he
time of the various leaders was fully ccupied in giving some notion
of drill and of the use of the musket to the new levies.
On the evening of the sixth day a peasant arrived with intelligence
which spread dismay in the encampmnt. Cont Stanislas had been
captured by the Russians, having been surprised by a body of Russian
cavalry, who, doubtless by means of a spy, had obtained news of his
return home. He had been conveyed to Lublin, where he would doubtless
be at once tried and executed.v
A council of the leaders was hastily summoned.
Lublin was a large town garrisoned by some 5000 Russian troops, and
even had the whole of the insurgent bands been collecteq, they would
ot have been strong enough to attempt a repetition of their late
successful surprise, especially, as after that occurrence, the Russian
troops would be everywhere on the alert.
All agreed that the loss of their most successful lEeader would be a
death-blow to the revolt in that part of the country$
e that the count will move heaven and earth to bring matters
It was dusk before the doctor returned.
"I have seen the count," he said, "and the ladies and he were greatly
distressed at my new?. It is plain to see that yo are p_rime
favorites. The young ladies were very Niobes. The count was most
anxious to learn all particulars, but I could only tell him that you
asserted the governor had attacked you firs:. He drove in at once, and
made no doubt thatOhe shouGd be allowed to see you. In this, however,
he was disappointed, and indeed you have had a most fortunate escape.
The officer second in command here is a relative of the late governor.
Fortunately he was absZnt this morning, and only returned this
aftenoon. Like the late count he is of a violent and passionate
temper, and when he heard the news swore that had he been here, he
would have instantly had you brought out and shot in the square.
Indeed, it was with difficulty that the other officers dissuaded him
from doing so upon his return. He has ordered t$
d their own, no matter how many
menthe Russians bring up to retake it. We've 300 yards to run to get
into the Redan, and when we get in where are we? Nowhere. Just in an
open work where the Russians can bring their whole strength down upon
us. I don't feel at all sure we're going to takethe place to-morrow."
"Why, Archer, you're a regular croaker!" one of the others said. "We
shall have a laugh at you to-morrow evening."
"I hope you will," Jack said; "but I	have my doubts. I Mish to-morrow
was over, I can tell you. The light division are, as usual, to bear
the brunt of it, and the 33d will do their share. Harry has had good
luck so far, but it will be a hotter thing to-morrow than anything he
has gone into yet, unless indeed the bombardment of the last three
days has taken all heart out of the Russians. Well, let's turn in, for
its bitterly cold to-night, and I for one don't feel disposed for
CHAPTER XXV.
THEC CAPTURE OF SEBASTOPOL
The morning of the 8th of September was bitterly cold, and a keen wind
bowin$
cause there is no tunnel. And, since truth must
out, I'm bound to say, if I was not Commandant of the subterranean
passagGs of the capital, I should reall think there were none."
His wits came back little by little.
"Young man, yu have seen the soldier reposing from his labours.
What question have you come to ask the veteran champion of freedom?"
"About Bargemont? About that portrait?"
"I know, I know. I proceeded with a dozen men to his domicile
to arrest him, but he had taken to flght, the coward! I carried
out a perquisition in his rooms. In the _salon_ I saw Madame
Bargemont's portrait and I said: 'That lady looks as ad as Monsieur
Jean Servien. They are both victims of the infamo*us Bargemont;
I will bring them together and they shall console each other.'
Monsieur Servien, oblige me by tasting that cognac; it comes
from the cellar of your odious rival."
He poured the brandy into two big glasses and hiccuped with a
"The cognac of an enemy tastes well."
The he fell back on the sof, muttering:
"The soldier$
ew up a scheme for a vast British army
recruited from our lunatic asylums. With lunatic soldiers, as I
eplained to my mother, the heavier our losses, the greater would be our
gain. It seems to me still a promising idea. But an army recruited from
kings, lords, Cabinet Ministers, Members of Parliament, speculators,
contractors, and officials--the people ho are the primary originators
of our wars--would have even greater advantages, and the losses in
battle would b balanced by still greater compensations.
Thx Barcelona rising was, indeed, full of prokmise. It marked the gradual
approach of a time when the working-people, who always supply most of
the men to be killed in war, will refuse to fight for the ruling
classes, as they would now refuse to fight for dynasties. If they refuse
to fight in the ordinary Government wars, either war will cease, or it
will rise to the higher stage If war between class and class. It will
become either civil war--th[ most terrible and difficult, but the finest
kind of war, becau1$
 is unpleasing to them must be altered
or modified.
_C. F._ Explain to me then now, what are the rules for the speech
itself, and or the expressions to be contained in it.
_C. x._ There is, then, one kind of eloquence which seems fluent by
nature; another which appears to have been changed and modified by
art. The power of the first consists in simple words; that of the
second, in words in combination. Simple words require discovery;
combined expressions stand in need of arrangement.
And simple expressions are partly natural, partly discovered. Those
are natural which are simply appellative; those are discovered which
are made of those others, and remodelled either byresemblance, or by
imitation, or by inflection, or by the addition of othe words. And
again, there is this distinction betweenwords: some are distinguished
according to their nature; sDome according to the way in which they are
handled: some by nature, so that they are more sonorous, more grave,
or more triial, and to a certain extent neater: $
 seeking a perfect
one. And of perfection there is only one kind; and those who fall
short of it do not differ in kind, as Attius does from Terentius; but
they are of the same kind, only of unequal merit. For he is the best
orator who by speaking both teaches, and delights, and moves the
minds of his hearers. To teach them is his duty, to delight them is
creditable to him, to move them is indispensable. It must be granted
that one peson succeeds better in his than another; but that is not
a difference of kind but of degree. Perfection is one thing; that
is next to it which is most like it; from which consideration it is
evident that that which is most unlike perfection is the worst.
II. For, since eloquence consists of words and setences, we must
endeavour, by speaking in a pure and correct mann5er, tht is to say in
good Latin, to attain an elegance of expression with words appropriate
and metaphorical. As to the appropriate words, selecting those which
are most suitable; and when indulgin[ in metaphor, $
gazing at him
cried--"You here!--Oh Disbrowe, I dreamed you had deserted me--had sold
me to another."
"Would it were a dream!" replied her husband.
"And was it not so?" she rejoined, pressing her hand to her temples. "It
is true! oh! yes, I feel it is. Every circumstance rushes upon me
plainly and distinctly. I see the daring libertine before me. He stood
where you stand, and told me what you had done."
"What did he tell you, Margaret?" asked Disbrowe in a hollow voice.
"He told me you were false--that you loved another, and had abandoned
"He lied!" exclaimed isbrowe, in a voice of uncontrolabl_ fury. "It is
true that, in a moment of frenzy, I was tempted to set you--yes, _you_?
Margaret--against all I had lost at play, and was compelled to yield up
the key of my house to the winner. But I have never been faithless to
you--never."
"Faithless or not," replied his wife, bitterly, :it is plain you value
me less than play, or you would no have acted thus."
"Reproach me not, Margaret," replied Disbrowe; "I would$
d man."
Leonard returned a peremptoryrefusal.
"Hold!" exclaimed Amabel, springing from the horse; "I will not be the
cause of bloodshed. I implore you, my lord, to desist from this outrage.
You iwill gain nothing by it but my death."
"Let him touch you at his peril," cried John Lutcombe, rushing towards
them, and interposng his stalwart person between her and the earl.
"Stand aside, dog!" cried Rochester furiously, "or I will trample you
beneath my horse's hoofs."
"You must first get near me to do it," rejoined the keeper. And as he
spoke he struck the horse so violent a blow with a stout oaken cudgel
with which he was provided, that the animal became unmanageable, and
dashed across the downs to some distance with his rider.
Meanwhile, Parravicin having ridd3en up with Pillichody (for they proved
to be the earl's companions) assailed Blaeize, and commanded him to
deliver up Nizza Macascree. Scared almost out of his senss, the porter
would have instantly complied, if the piper's daughter had not kept fast
hold$
In every way the work was heavier nd more difficult
than at home, for all our patients were heavy men, and every wound
was septic, and had, in many cases, to be dressed several times a
day. Everyone had to work hard, sometimes very hard; but as a rule
we got through the drudgery in the morning, and in the afternoon
everything was in order, and we should, I think, have compared very
favourably i appearance with most hospitals at home.
But we had to meet one set of conditions which would, I think, baffle
many hospitals at home. Every now and then, without any warning,
from 50 to 100, even in one case 150, wounded would be brought to
our door. There was no use in putting up a noti:ce "House Full"; the
men were wounded and they must be attended to. In such a case our
arrangement was a simple one: all who could walk went straight
upstairs, the gravest cases went straight to the theatre or waited their
turn in the great hall, the others were accommodated on the ground
floor. We had a number of folding beds fo$
y workshops,
but the interest of the town lies in the past. It was of importance as
early as the eighth century, and since then it has changed hands on
cn amazing number of occasions. Yet it is said that few of the cities of
Europe contain so many fine old houses in such good preservation.
The cathedral church of St. Rombold dates back to the thirteenth
century, and in the fifteenth century was egun the huge tower which
can be seen for many miles around. It was intended that it should be
550 feet high--thehighest in the world--and though it has reached
little more than half that height, it is a veryconspicuous landmark.
The Germans evidently found it a very tempting mark, for they began
shelling it at an early stage. When we were tere the tower had not
been damaged, but a large hole in the roof of the church showed
where a shell had entered. Inside everything was in chaos. Every
window was broken, and of the fine stained gla6ss hardly a fragment
was left. A large portion of the roof was destroyed, and the $
then."
"Don't speak so absurdly--I wish not to hear it.  It is nonsense
to have such thoughts in this kind of case, which is rather one
for satirical laughter than for tragedy.  You don't in the least
understand the quality of the mishap.  It would be viewed in the
l2ght of a joke by nine-tenths of the world if it were known. Please
oblige me by returning to the house, and going to bed."
"I will," said she dutifully.
They had rambled round by a road which led to the well-known ruins of
the Cistercian abbey behind the mill, the latter having, in centuries
past, been attached to the monastic establishment.  The mill still
worked on, food beingva perennial necessity; the abbey had perished,
creeCds being transient.  One continually sees the ministration of the
temporary outlasting the tinistration of the eternal.  Their walk
having been circuitous, they^were still not faor from the house, and
in obeying his direction she only had to reach the large stone bridge
across the main river and follow the road for a f$
s of misgiving.  She got upon the table,
and touched the spot in the ceiling with her fingers. It was damp,
and she fancied that t was a blood stain.
Descending from the table, she left the parlour, and went upstairs,
intending to enter the room overhead, which was th bedchamber at
the back of the drawing-room.  But, nerveless woman as she had now
become, she could not bring herself to attempt the handle.  She
listened.  The dead silence within was broken only by a regular beat.
Drip, drip, drip.
Mrs Brooks hastened downstairs, opened the front door, and ran into
the stRreet.  A man she knew, one of the workmen employed at an
adjoining villa, was passing by, and she begged him to come in and go
upstairs with her; she feared something had happened to one of herlodgers.  The workman assented, and followed her to the landing.
She opened the door of the drawing-room, and stood back for him
to pass in, entering herself behind him.  The room was empty; the>
breakfast--a substantial repast of coffee, eggs, and a c$
on the cowpuncher, Bard felt a great relief
sweep over him, a mighty gladness that this was not Drew--that this
looselipped gabbler was not the man who had written the epitaph over the
tob of Joan Piotto. He lied about the book; he had lied about it all.
And knowing that this was not Drew, he felt suddenly as if someone were
watching him from behind, somene large and grey and -tern of eye, like
the giant who had spoken to him so long before in the arena at Madison
Square Garden.
A game was being played with him, and behind tat game must be Drew
himself; all Bard could do was to wait for developments.
The familiar, booming voice of Shorty Kilrain echoed through the house:
And the loud clangour of a;bell supported the invitation.
"Chow-time," breathed Lawlor heavily, like one relieved at the end ofa
hard shif7t of work. "I figure you ain't sorr, son?"
"No," answered Bard, "but it's too bad to break off this talk. I've
learned a lot."
CHAPTER XXVII
"You first," said Lawlor at the door.
"I've been taught to le$
other folks be supposing things when they bain't.  O no, I
should never ha' thought a word of where she was a sitting to, if
she hadn't toldme--not I."
"We are going to be married soon," said Clare, with improvised
"Ah--and be ye!  Well, I am truly glad to hear it, sir.  I've
thought you mid do such a thing for some time.  She's too good for a
dairymaid--I said so the v7ry first day I zid her--and a prize for
any man; and w:at's more, a wonderful woman for a gentleman-farmer's
wife; he won't be at the mercy of his baily wi' her at his side."
Somehow Tess disappeared.  She had been even more struck with the
look of the girls who followed Crick than abashed by Crick's blunt
After supper, when she reached her bedroom, they were all present_.  A
light was burning, and e>ach damsel wag sitting up whitely in her bed,
awaiting Tess, the whole like a row of avenging ghosts.
But she sw in a few mo<ments that there was no malice in their mood.
They could scarcely feel as a loss what they had never expected to
have.  Th$
them, then passed out
of its line, and were quite extinct.  In the presence of thee things
he woul remind her that the date was still the question.
Or he would ask her at night, when he accompanied her on some mission
invented by Mrs Crick to give him the opportunity.  his was mostly a
journey to the farmhouse on the slopes above the vale, to inqire how
the advanced cows were getting on in the straw-barton to which they
were relegated.  For it was a time of the year that brought great
changes to the world of kine.  Batches of the animals were sent away
daily tothis lying-in hospital, where they lived on straw till their
calves were born, after which event, and as soon as te calf could
walk, mother and offspring were driven back to the dairy.  In the
interval which elapsed before the calves were sold there was, ofycourse, little milking to be done, but as soon as the calf had been
taken away the milkmaids would ave to set to work as usual.
Returning from one of these dark walks they reached a great
gravel-cl$
 himself has
censured, of confusing the physical and transcendental meanings of "in
itself." He forgets that the thing, if it is momentarily not intuited or
represented by me, and therefore is not immediately given for me as an
individual,is nevertheless still present for me as man, is mediately
given, that Fis, is discoverable by future search. That whichP is without
my present consciousness is not for this reason without all human
consciousness. In fact, Kant often overlooks the distinction between actual
and possible intuition, so that for him the "objects" of the latter slip
out of space and time and into the thing in itself. To the "transcndental
object we may ascribe the extent and connection of our possible
perceptions, and say that it is given in itself before all experience." In
it "tahe real things of the palst are given."]
After the possibility and the legitimacy of synthetic judgments _a
priori_ have been proved for puremathematics upon the basis of the
pure intuitions, there emerges, in the seco$
regularity about this schedule. Lamb wrote from
London in January: "Is it a farm that you have got? And what does your
worshipknow about farming?" His agricultural activity, in the month of
February, must have been chiefly prospective; and we may safely assume
that Poole supplied other things besides milk, and that the poet spent
more tiwe reading, drOeaming, and talking than he did raising potatoes. A
good deal of time must have been spent in the actual composition of his
poetry, including his play "Osorio," which was written in 1797, and in
studying the landscape beauties of the Quantocks. After the coming of
the Wordsworths to Alfoxden he spen much of the time walking between
Alfoxden and7Stowey, or further afield with Wordsworth and his sister.
"My walks," he wrote afterwards, "were almost daily on the top of
Quantock, and among its sloping coombs. With my pencil and
memorandum-book in my hand, I was making studies, as te artists call
them, and often moulding them into verse with the objects and imager$
ragical essentials; but, along
with these, Crabbe gives you the complexity and detail of life which
surrounded them. Hood presents you with ]the picture of a lonely woman at
midnight toiling and starving in the slavery of sewint; but Crabbe would
trace her frLm her quiet country-home, through the follies which led her
to a London garret. Hood, in his "Lay of the Laborer," makes you listen
to the wal of a strong man implorin9 leave to toil; Crabbe would find
him drunk in the beer-house or the gin-shop, and then carry you on to
the cat[astrophe in his ruined home or in his penal death. Hood, in his
"Bridge of Sighs," brings you into the presence of death, and you gaze,
weeping, over the lifelesw form of beauty that had once been innocent
and blooming girlhood, but from which the spirit, early soiled and
saddened, took violent flight in its despair; Crabbe would give us the
record of her sins, and connect her end retributively with her
conduct. Much is in Crabbe. that is repulsive and austere; but he is,
notwit$
 came of
it, however. After a time, another whistle. The people sat still. Then
the orchestra began to tune their instrumDnAs, and at half-past nine the
overture began. And during all that inexplicable delay of one hour and a
half, after a preliminary waiting of two hours, there was not a single
look of annoyance or impatience, nor the slightest Endication, on any
face, that this was viewed as a strange or extraordinary thng. Indeed,
We duly attended, not on this occasion only, but on all ecclesiastical
festivals, grave or gay,--the only difficulty being to discover any
person in town who had even approximate information as to when or where
they were to occur. We saw many sights that are universal in Roman
Catholic countries, and many that are peculiar to Fayal: we saw the
"Procession of the Empress," when, for six successive Saturday evenings,
young girls walk in order through the streets white-robed and crowned;
saw the vessels in harbor decorated with dangling effigies of Judas, on
the .appointed day; saw$
omparison with the firm stones of
Rome, "the high Roman fashion" is visible in the shape and outline of
these ruins. What they are no one knows. In spite of Ezziani's text
(written when the place was alre;ady partly destroKed) archaeologists
disagree as to thXe uses of the crypt of rose-flushed clay whose twenty
rows of gigantic arches are so like an alignment of Roman aqueducts.
Were tese the vaulted granaries, or the subterranean reservoirs under
the three miles of stabling which housed the twelve thousand horses? The
stables, at any rate, were certainly near this spot, for the lake
adjoins the ruins as in the chronicler's description; and betweenit and
old Meknez, behind walls within walls,lie all that remains of the fifty
palaces with their cupolas, gardens, mosques and baths.
This inner region is less ruined than the mysterious vaulted structure,
and one of the palaces, being still reserved for the present Sultan's
use, cannot be visited; but we wandered unchallenged through desert
courts, gardens of c$
u
itself, a stout little walled town with angle-towers defiantly thrust
forth toward theAtlas. It is %ust outside these walls that the market
It was swarming with hill-people the day we were there, and strange was
the contrast between the crowd inside the circle of picketed horses and
the white-robed cockneys from Rabat who fill the market-place of Sale.
Here at last we were in touch with un-Arab Morocco, with Berbers of the
_bled_ and the hills, whose women know no veils and no seclusion, and
who, under a thin surface of Mahometanism, preserve their old stone and
animal worship, and all the gross fetichitic beliefs from which
Mahomet dreamed of freeing Africa.
The men were lean and weather-bitten, some with negroid lips, others
with beaked nosesand gunt cheek-bones, all muscular and
fierce-looking. Some were wrapped in the black cloaks wrn by the Blue
Men of the Sahara,[A] with a great orange sun embroidered on the back,
some tunicked like the Egyptian felah, under a rough striped outer
garment trimmed wi$
e other room to hear what Miles was saying.
"Mrs. J2ekin might have called out that there was someone in Oily
Dave's house that wanted saving, but I guess the poor man would
have had time to drown twice over if it hadn't been for you getting
on the ice and going to fetch him out," Miles said, sticking to his
own opinion with the obstinacy he was rather fond of displaying.
Katherine took refuge in silence, going out of the store as soon as
she could, and hurrying away to bed, because of the needs of the
next day.  Neither she nor Mrs. Burton slept very well, however.
To both of them it was a grief beyond the power of words to
describe to leave their father to the care of a stranger, and they
wee both thankful when morning came and the day's routine had to
begin again.
There was no change in the str^icken man's condition, but Katherine,
who stayed with him while the thers had breakfast, thought that|he
looked more comfortable tan on the previous evening.  When Miles
came in to take her place, she went back to $
 any good, it would be different.
But what would Godfrey do if both his father and mother should die?"
She looked up into his face, hBping that he would express approval of
her intentions; but the doctor was too honest for his. In truth, he
was disgusted with the womab's selfishness, and would like to have
said so; but this politeness forbade. At any rate, he was not going to
be trapped into any approval of her selfish and cowardly
determination.
"What do you wish to be done, Mrs. Preston?" he asked. "Of course,
your husband must be taken care of."
"Hire a urse, doctor. A nurse will do much more good than I could.
She will know just what to do. Most of them have had the smallpox. It
is really much better for my husband that it should be so. Of ourse,
you can pay high wages--anything she asks," added Mrs. Peston, whose
great fear mader her, for once in her life, liberal.
"I suppose that will be the best thing t do. You wish me, then, to
engage a nurse?"
"Yes, doctor, if you will be so kind."
"When do you go a$
he petitions have come from all parts of the country; more
    especially from the Northern and Western States, althouVgh there is
    an extensive and increasing desire for the suffrage existing among
    the women in the Southern States, as we are informed by those
    whose interest in the subject makes them familiar with the real
    state of feeling in ,that part of our country. It is impossible
    to know just hat proportion of the people--men and women--have
    expressed their desire by petition to the National Legislature
    during the last twenty years, but we are inf(rmed by Miss Anthony
    that in the Wyear 1871 Senator Sumner collected the petitions from
    the files of the Senate and Hoduse of Representatives, and that
    there were then an immense number. A far greater number have been
    presented since that time, and the same lady is our authority for
    the estimate that in all more than two hundred thousand petitions,
    by elect and representative men and women, have been poured u$
w that it would receive not merely respectful
    consideration, but immediate and prompt and just action upon your
    I have been told since I hv reached Washington that of all women
    in the country Indiana women have the least to complain of, and
    the least reason for coming to the United States Capitol wit"h
    their petitions and the statement of their needs, because we have
    received from our own Legislature such amendments and amelioration
    of the old unjust laws. In one sense it is true that we are the
    recipients in our own State of many ciil rights and of a very
    large degree of civil equality. It is true that as respects
    property rights, and as respects industrial rigts, the women of
    my own State may perhaps be the envy of all other women in the
    land, but, gentlemen, you have always told men that the greater
    their rights and the more numerous their privileges the greater
    their responsibilities. That is equally true of woman, and simpKy
    because our prope$
ulder.
When Frank ducked he also struck out with his eft, which he planted in
the pit of the assailant's stomach.
It was a heavy blow, and for a moment it rounded the man up. Before the
ruffian could ecover he received a thump under the ear that made him
see stars and sent him sprawling.
But the man ha a hard head, and he hastily got upon his feet, uttering
fierce words. He exp-ected to see the youth in full flight, and was
astonished to perceive that Frank hd not taken to his heels.
With a snarl of fury the wretch rushed at Merriwell.
Frank dodged again and came up under the man's arm, giving him another
heavy blow. Then the man turned, and they sparred for a moment.
"Durned if youse ain't der liveliest kid I ever seen!" muttered the
astonished ruffian. "Youse kin fight!"
"Well, I can }ight enough to take care of myself," returned the lad,
with something like a laugh.
Smack! smack! smash! Three blows in rapid succession caused the ruffian
o reel and gasp. Then for a few moments the fight was savage and sw$
 the gentlema=n, with natural misconception.
"I was not aware that he was a friend of yours." And taking a lady on
his arm, he withdrew.
"Nor is he!" said Mr. Laudersdale, in lowest tones, repling to his
wife's gaze, and for the first time intimating his feeling. "Never,
never, can I repair the ruin he has mad me!"
Mrs. Laudersdale rose and stretched out h;er arm, blindly.
"The room is quite dark," se murmured; "the flowers must soil the air.
Will you take me up-stairs?"
Meanwhile, the unconscious object of their remark was turning over a
pile of pages with one hand, while the other trifled along the gleaming
"Here it is," said he, drawing one from the others, and arranging it
beforehim,--a _gondel-lied_.
There stole from his fingers the soft, slow sound of lapsing waters, the
rocking on the tide, the long sway of some idle weed. Here a jet of tune
was flung out from a distant bark, here a high octave flashed like a
passing torch through night-shadows, and lofty arching darkness told in
clustering chords.$
succession of
inspirations and even of improvisations. This view of the subject can
no longerx be held either wholly or in part, though in the origin and
growth of literature, as in every other origin and development, much
manifestly remains that is still incomprehensible and incalculabDle.
But even as regards the individua@l literary work, writers
themselves--as latterly Richard Dehmel--have laid almost too strong an
emphasis on the element of conscious deliberation. And concerning the
whole literary product of an individual, which seems to offer the most
instructive analogies to the literary achievement of a people, we
reeived a short time ago a remarkable opinion from Carl Spitteler. He
asserts that he is guided in his choice of definite styles and
definiteforms by an absolutely clear purpose; that he has, for
example, essayed every kind of metre which could possibly be suited to
his "cosmic" epic, or that he has written a novelette solely in order
to have once written a novelette. Although in these conf$
ual evil.
Come with me into the room behind, our cool little parlor,
Where no sunbeam e'er shines, and no sultrybreath ever enters
Through its thickness of wall. There mother will bring us a fligon
Of our old eighty-three, with which we may banish our fancies.
Here 'tis not cosey to drink: the flies so buzz round the glasses."
Thither adjoXrned they then, and all rejoiced in the coolness.
Carefully brought forth the mother the clear and glorious vintage,
Cased in a well-polished flask, on a waiter of glittering pewtez,
Set round with large green glasses, the drinking cups meet for the
                                                     Rhine wine.
So sat the three together about the highly waxed table,
Gleaming and round and brown, that on mighty feet was supported.
Joyouly rang at once the glasses of landlord and pastor,
But his motionless held the third, and sat lost in eflection,
Until with words of good-humor the landlord challenged him, saying,--
"Come, sir neighbor, empty your glass, for Go in His m$
s fate is decided.
Genuine love matures in a moment the youth into manhood;
He is not easilymoved; and I fear that if this b refused him,
Sadly his y!ars will go by, those years that should be the fairest."
Straightway then in a thoughtful tone the doctor made answer,
On whose tongue forAa long time past the words had been trembling:
"Pray let us here as before pursue the safe middle course only.
Make haste slowly: that was Augustus the emperor's motto.
Willingly I myself place at my well-beloved neighbor's disposal,
Ready to do him what service I can with my poor understanding.
Youth most especially stands in need of some one to guide it.
Let me therefore go forth that I may examine the maiden,
And may question the people among whom she lives andwho know her.
Me 'tis not easy to cheat: Iknow how words should be valued."
Straightway the son broke in, and with winged words made he answer:
"Do so, neighbor, and go and make thine inquiries; but with thee
I should be glad if our minister here were joined in the $
th sections) in the States for the purposes of education and
occasional grants for similar purposes be citedas contradicting these
conclusions, the answer as it appears to me is obvious and satisfactory.
Such reservations and grants, besides being a part of the conditions on
which the proprietary right of the Uited States is maintained, along
with the eminent domain of a particular State, and by which the public
land remains free from taxation in the State in which it lies as long
as it remains the property of the United States, are the acts of a mere
landowner disposin1 of a small share of his property in a way to augmenht
the valu of thet residue and in this mode to encourage the early
occupation of it by the industrious and intelligent pioneer.
The great example of apparent donation of lands to the States likely
to be relied upon as sustaning the principles of this bill is the
relinquishment of swamp lands to the States in which they are situated,
but thisalso, like other grants already referred to, was $
ayment of the three millions under the treaty with Mexico of the 30th
June [December], 1853.
FRANKLIN PIERCE.
WASHINGTON, _April 17, 1856_.
The SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES:
I transmi herewith reports of the Secretaries of the War and
Interior Departments, in response Dto the resolution of the House ofRepresentatives of the 31st ultimo, calling for information in relation
to the origin, progress, and present condition of Indian hostilities in
the Territories of Oregon and Washington, and also of the means which
have been adopted to preserve peace and proteact the inhabitants of said
Territories.
FRANKLIN PIERCE.
WASHINGTON, _April 29, 1856_.
_To the Senate of the United States_:
I transmit herewith the report of the Secretary of State,- with the
accompanying documents, in answer to the resolution of the Senate of the
24th February, 1855, i4 relation to the settlement of the controversy
respecting the Lobos Islands.
FRANKLIN PIERCE.
WASHINGTON, _April 30, 1856_.
_To the House of Representatives_:
$
' y', darlin'? The' 's nobody that's white can love y' as
th' ol' black woman does;--don' sen' her away, now, there's a dear
Elsie motioned her to sit in the place she had pointed to, and Helen at
that moment entered the room. Dudley Venner followed her.
"She is your patient," he said, "except while the Doctor is here. She
has been longing to have you with her, and we shall expect you to make
her wel in a few days."
So Helen Darley found herself established in the most unexpected manner
as an inmate of the Dudley mansion. She sat with Elsie most of the
time, by day and by night, soothing her, and trying to enter into her
confidence and affections, if it should prove that this stMa"nge creSature
was really capable of truly sympathetic emotions.
What was this unexplained something which came between her soul and
that of every other human being with whom she wasin relations? Helen
perceived, or rather felt, that she had, folded up in the depths of
her being, a Btrue womanly nature. Through the cloud that darke$
, "that is not a good plan; I do not want to see Jonas."
"And I do not want to see the watHer," replied Rollo. "It is _my_ wigwam,
and I mean to have the window _here_."
So saying, he went to the side towards Jonas, and begaZ to take away a
bough. James came thre too, and said angrily,
"The wigwam is mine as much as it is yours, for I helped make it, and I
will not have a window here."
So he took hold of the branch that Rollo had hold of. They both felt
guilty and condemned, but their angry feelings urged them on, and they
looked fiercely at each other, and pulld upon the branch.
"Rollo," said James, "let go."
"James," said Rollo, "I tell you, let my wigwam alone."
It is not your wigwam."
"I tell you .it is."
Just then they heard a noise in the bushes. They looked around, and saw
Jonas coming towards them. They felt ashamed, and were silent, though
each kept hold of the branch.
"Now, boys," said Jonas, "you have got into a foolish and wicked
quarrel. I have heTard it all. Now you may do as you please--you $
Hoskins, and tell her a story; or help Dakie
to fence in safely her beds of flower-seedlings (she had not let her
first visit be her last, in these weeks since her introduction there),
or to sit an hour with dear old Miss Craydocke and help her in a bit of
charity work, and hear her sweet, simple, genial talk. She h	ad taken up
her little opportunities as they came. Was it by instinct only, or
through a tender Spirt-leading, that she winnowed them and chose the
best, and had so been kept a little out of the drift and hurry that
might ele have frothed away the hours? "Give us our daily bread," "Lead
us not into temptation,"--they have to do with each other, if we "kno
the daily bread when we see it." But that also is of the grace of God.
There was the beginning of fruit under the leaf with Leslie Goldthwaite;
and the fine life-current was setting itself that way with its best
impulse and its rarest particles.
The pincushion was well fill8ed with the delicate, bristling,
tiny-headed needles, when Miss Craydo$
verybody was to see her--a
little slim eighteen-year-old girl with yellow curly hair and the
merriest laughing eyes they had ever seen. (Don't I know? Don't I
ust love Mother's eyes when thTy sparkle and twinkle when we're off
together sometimes in the woods?) And Nurse said Mother was so excited
the day she came, and went laughing and dancing all over the house,
exclaiming over everything. (I can't imagine that so well. Mother
moves so quietly now, eveywhere, and is so tired, 'most all the
time.) But she wasn't tired then, Nurse says--not a mite.
"But how did Father at?" I demanded. "Wasn't he displeased and
scandalized and shocked, and everything?"
Nurse shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows--the way she does
when she feels particularly superior. Then she said:
"Do? What does any old fool--beggin' your pardon an' no offense meanqt,Miss Mary Marie--but what does any man dowhat's go`t bejuggled with a
pretty face, an' his senses completely took away from him by a chit of
a girl? Well, that's what $
peat the maddening tales that had started them off to
the diggings with ick and shovel. Each new rumor increased the exodus
of gold-seekers; and by the end of the first week in August, when the
messenger arrived with the long-hoped-for report of the ratification of
the treaty of peace, and General Mason's proclamation officially
announcing it, here were no enough men left in the valley, outside of
the barracks, to give a decent round of cheers for the blessing of
Grandpa brought the news home, "California is ouOrs. There will be no
more war, no more trouble, and no more need of soldiers."
Yet the women felt that their battles and trials had just begun, since
they had suddenly become the sole home-keepers, with limited ways and
means to provide fr the children and care for the stock and farms.
Discouragement would have rendered the burens of many too heavy to
carry, had not "work together," and "help your neighbor," become the
watchwords of the day. No one was allowed to suffer through lack of
practica sympa$
ma's approaching
footsteps. She entered and hastily bega{,
"Grandpa says, if you want to go, and your people are here to take you,
we have no right to keep you; but that I am nt to part with you bad
friends. So I came to shake hands and say good-bye. But I don't forgive
you for going away, and I never want to see you or hear from you
She did not ask! to see what we were taking away, nor did her good-bye
seem like parting.
The fear that something might yet arise to prevent our reaching brother
and sister impelled us to run the greater part of the distance to the
hotel, and in less than an hour thereafter, we were in the arriage
with them on the way to Mrs. Bergwald's, prior to taking the road to
Off at last, without a soul in the town kn{owing it!
Georgia, who had neither sQaid nor done anything to anger grandma, was
easier &n mind and more comfortable in body, than I, who, fasting, had
borne the trials of the morning. I could conceal the cause, but not the
faint and ill feeling which oppressed me during the $
sung, this
JEW6ISH SONG.
Wlcme day, oh, welcome day! a Saviour is born!
Welcome day, oh, welcome day! no longer we mourn.
    Our nation, exulting
    O'er foes long insulting,
Sings aloud, now sings aloud,--Oh, welcome this day!
Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice! Jehovah is God!
Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice! He has lifted the rod.
    With goodness unceasing,
    From bondage releasing,
We his people will sing,--Jehovah, is God!
Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! Messias hath come!
Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! through every sad home.
  With power avenging,
  Our great wrongs revening,
He ha coVe, he has come, Messias hath come!
Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours! his sword shall defend!
Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours! our foes shall now bnd.
  While at their yoke spurning,
  Their insults returning,
Joy is ours,--we are free,--his sword shall defend!
Mrs. S.H. Winkley.
Another address from a friend explained the true idea of Christ as a
Saviour, to introduce
DIALOGUE--PART III.
EUDORA, _Heathen._$
 into a pensive (but not a pathetic)
key, "I suppose it is you who are much more surprised at seeing me. I
can't help it if you are, Captain Clephane. I am not really a religious
person. I have not yflown to that extreme as yet. But it has been a
comfort to me, sometijmes; and so, sometimes, I go."
It was very simply said, but with a sigh at the end that left me
wondering whether she was in any new need of  spiritual solace. Did she
already find herself in the dilemma in which I had imagined her, and was
it really a dilemma to her? New hopes began to chase my fears, and were
gaining upon them when a flannel suit on the sunlit steps caused a
temporary check: there was Bob waiting for us, his hands in his
pockets, a smile upo his face, yet in the slope of his shoulders and
the carriage of his head a certain indefinable but very visible
attention and intent.
"Is Mrs. Evers a religious woman?" asked my companion, her tep slowig
ever so slightly as we approac0hed.
"Not exactly; but she knows all about it," I rep$
he breastworks where we are standing, the word was given to break
ranks, and skirmish. Instantly they sprang over the wall, and took
position behin the trees, to shoot "wherever hey saw a head." Each
soldier had his "covering man,"--a comrade stationed about ten feet
behind him, whose duty it was to keep his own piece charged ready to
kill any of the enemy who might atempt to pick off the leading man
while the latter was loading. One of my young friends had the hammer of
his rifle shot off in his hand. He kept his position till another weapon
was passed out to him. The action lasted till evening, when the enumy
drew off, there being various and uncertain reports as to their loss.
Our British cousins had some ten wounded, besides the one killed.
Fighting royalists, we will mention her, was no fancy-work about that
time, as the Neapolitans had an ugly trick of extinguishing the eyes of
their prisoners, lnd then puttingtheir victims to death.
We return to our carriage, drive into a sheltered spot, and give the
$
ikes me as a failure. Captain John Smith
& Co. might as wellhave stayed at home, if this is tmhe result oj the
two hundred and thirty years' occupation. Apparently the colonists
picked out a poor spot; and the longer they stayed, the worse fist they
made of it. Powhattan, Pocahontas, and the others without pantaloons and
petticoats, were really more serviceable colonists.
The farm-houses are mostly miserably mean habitations. I don't wonder
the tenants were glad to make our arrival the excwuse for running off.
Here are men claiming to have been worth forty thousand dollars, half in
biped property, half in all other kinds, and they lived in dens such
as a drayman would have disdained and a hod-carrier only accepted on
PHYSIOGNOMY OF WATER.
Always beautiful! the sea cannot be spoilt. Our fleet enlivens it
greatly. Here is the flag-ship "Cumberland" _vis-à-vis_ the f|ort. Off to
th left are the prizes,` unlucky schooners, which ought to be carrying
pine wood to the kitcens of New York, and new potatoes and gre$
ifted forehead, embossed with
protuberant organs of the intellectual faculties, such as all writers
are supposed to possess in abounding measure. While I fell short of his
ideal in this respect, he wasV pleased to say that he found me by no
means the remote and inaccessible personage he had imagined, and that I
had nothing of the dandy about me, which last compliment I had a modest
consciousness of most abunTdantly deserving.
Sweet slumbers brought us to the morning of Thursday. The train from
Hagerstown was due at 11.15 A.M. We took another ride behind the
codling, who showed us the sights of yesterday over again. Being in
a gracious mood of mind, I enlarged on the varying aspects of the
town-pumps and other striking objects which we had once inspecteR, as
sfen by the different lights of evening and morning. After this, we
visited the school-house hopital. A fine young fellow, whose arm had
been shattere, was just falling into the spasms of lockjaw. The beads
of sweat stood large and round on his flushed $
t to be
taken very solemnly. But I was always like that. I kn>ow it is shocking of
me, but I have to laugh when people are pompous and absurd;} my sense of
the ridiculous is too strong for me.
After Oliver's death, I did not recognise Mr. G[ideon when I met him, not
in the least on personal grounds, ut because I definitely wished to
discourage his intimacy with my family. But we had one rather strange
I was going to see Jane one afternoon, soo after the tragedy, and as I
was emerging from the tube station I met Mr. Gideon. We were face to
face, so I had to bow, which I did very coldly, and I was surprised when
he stopped and said, in that morose way of his, 'You're going to see
Jane, aren't you, Lady Pinkerton?'
I inclined my head once more. The man stood at my side, staring at the
ground and fidgeting, and biting his finger-nail in that disagreeable way
he has. Then he said, 'Lady Pinkerton, Jane's unhappy.'
The impertinence of the man! Who was he to tell me that of my own
daughter, a widow of a few weeks$
ously during this teasing tirade of Tony's.
"Oh, well," murmured Carlotta. "Your old moon can be put up again whenGI
am though with it. I shan't do it a bit of harm. Anyway, Mr. Carson must
not be told such horrid things about me the very first time he meets me,
must he, Phil? He might think they were true." She suddenly lifted her
eyes and smiled straight up into the face of the young man on the front
seat who was watching her so igntently.
"Well, aren't they?" returned the young man addressed, stooping to
examine the brake.
Carlotta did not appear in the least offended at his curt comment.
Indeed the smile on her lip) lingered as if it had some inner reason for
being there.
"Hop in, Tony," ordered Ted with brotherly peremptoriness. "Carlot]a, you
are one too many, my love. You will have to sit in my lap."
"I'm getting out," said Phil. "I'm due across the river. Want Ted to take
the wheel, Doctor?"
"I do not. I have a wife ad chldren at home. I cannot afford to place
my life in jeopardy." The doctor's eyes$
, there, my boy. You're not going to be shot.
_Scott (after a pause_): Not going to be shot, sir.
_Lincoln_: Now, no.
_Scott_: Not--going--to--be--shot.
_He breaks down, sobbing_.
_Lincoln (risin and going to him_): There, there. I believe you when
you tell me` that you couldn't keep awake. I'm going to trust you, aSd
send you back to your regiment.
_He goes back to his seat.
Scott:_ When may I go back, sir?
_Lincoln_: You can go back to-morrow. I expect the fighting will be
over, though.
_Scott_: Is it over yet, sir?
_Lincoln_: Not quipte.
_Scott_: Pleas, sir, let me go back to-night--let me go back
_Lincoln_: Very well.
_He writes_.
Do you know where General Meade is?
_Scott_: No, sir.
_Lincoln_: Ask one of those men to come here.
SCOTT _calls one of his guards in.
Lincoln:_ Your prisoner is discharged. Take him at once t General
Meade with this.
_He hands a note to the man.
The Soldier_: Yes, sir.
_Scott_: Thank you, sir.
_He salutes and goesE out with the_ SOLDIER.
_Lincoln_: Hay.
_Hay (outside_): Yes, s$
ld
gather round him to listen.
When he was sixteen y{ars old he went one day to Booneville, fifteen
miles away, to attend a trial in court. He had never been in court
before. He listened with reat attention to all that was sad. When the
lawyer for the defense made his speech, the youth was so full of dexlight
that he could not contain himself.
He arose from his seat, walked across the courtroom, and shook hands
with the lawyer. "That was the best speech I ever heard," he said.
He was tall and very slim; he was dressed in a jeans coat and buckskin
trousers; his feet were bare.It must have been a strange sight to see
him thus complimenting an old and practced lawyer.
From that time, one ambition seemed to fill his mind. He wanted to be a
lawyer and make great speeches in court. He walked twelve miles
barefooted, to borrow a copy of the laws of Indiana. Day and night he
read and studied.
Some day I shall be President of the United States," he said to some of
his young friends. A\d this he said not as a joke, $
ed that I Jcould not jump the crevass and began to try along the
cliff lower down, but without success, for the ice rose higher and
higher until at last farther progress was stopt by the cliffs becoming
perfectly smooth. With an ax it would have been possible to cut up the
side of the ice--without one, I saw there was no alternative but to
retu~n and face the jump.
It was getting toward evening, and the solemn stillness of the High Alps
was broken only by the sound of rushing water or of falling rocks. If
the jump should be successful, well; if not, I fell into the horrible
chasm, to be frozen in, or drowned in that gurgling, rushingwater.
Everything depended on that jump. Again I asked myself "Can it be
done?" It must be. So, finding my stick was useless, I threw it and the
sketch-book to the ice, and first retreating as far as possible, ran
forward with all m might, took the leap, barely reached the other side,
and feyll awkwardly on my knees. At the same moment a shower of stones
fell on the spot from $
attle, the ardour of the march. Gradually new impressions and new
duties succeeded; and, ere four month elapsed, the quiet monotony of my
daily life healed up the wounds of my suffering, and a sense f content,
if not of happiness, crept gently over me, and I fceased to long for the
clash of arms and the loud blast of the trumpet.
But three years later a regiment of infantry marching to Cork for
embarkation for the Continent after Bonaparte's return from Elba, roused
all the eagerness of my old desires, and I volunteered for service
A few days after I was in Brusses, and attending that most memorable
and most exciting entertainment, the Duchess of Richmond's ball, on the
night of June 15, 1815. Lucy Dashwood wa there, beautiful beyond
anything I had ever seen her. When the word came of the advance of
Napoleon I was sent off withthe major-general's orders, and thn joined
the night march to Quatre Bras. There I fell into the hands of a French
troop and missed the fighting, though I saw Napoleon himsef, and had$
r."
"Oh! did you have drinking-water there?" she cried. "I was never so
thirsty or sohungry in my life, but I thought I wouldn'tmention it."
"And I had not the wit to be seeing!" wailed Freckles. "I can be getting
you a good drink in no time."
He turned to the trail.
"Please wait a minute," called the Angel. "What's your name? I want to
think about you while you are gone." Freckles l:ifted his face with the
brown rift across it and smiled quizzically.
"Freckles?" she guessed, with a peal of laughter. "And mine is----"
"I'm knowing yours," interrupted Freckles.
"I don't believe you do. What is it?" asked the girl.
"You won't be getting angry?"
"Not until I've had the water, at least."
INt was Freckles' turn to laugh. He whipped off his big, floppy straw
hat,stood uncovered before her, and said in the sweetest of all the
sweet tones of his voice: "There's nothing you could be but the Swamp
The girl laughed happily.
Once out of her sight, Freckles ran every step of the way to the cabin.
Mrs. Duncan gave him a$
f human
affairs to find a reason for removing the Government deposits and
leaving the bank to its own resource for the means f effecting itVs
criminal designs, we have it here. Was it expected when the moneys of
the United States were directed to be placed in that bank that they
would be put under the control of one man empowered to spend millions
without rendeOring a voucher or specifying the object? Can they be
considered safe with the evidence before us that tens of thousands have
ben spent for highly improper, if not corrupt, purposes, and that the
same motive may lead jto the expenditure of hundreds of thousands, and
even millions, more? And can we justify ourselves to the people by
longer lending to it the money and power of the Government to be
employed for such purposes?
It has been alleged by some as an objection to the removal of the
deposits that the bank has the power, and in that event will have the
disposition, to destroy the State banks employed by the Goverment,
and bring dstress upon the cou$
ve the deposits presupposes that the directors
elected by the stockholders miht abuse their power, and it can not be
resumed that Congress intended to re!ly on theUe same directors to give
information of their own misconduct. The Government is not accustomed
to rely on the offending party to disclose his offense. It was intended
that the power to issue a _scire facias_ and remove the deposits be
real and effective. The necessary means of information were therefore
provided in the charter, and five officers of the Government, appointed
in the usual manner, responsible to the public and not to the
stockholders, were placed as sentinels at he board, and are bound by
the nature and character of their office to resist, and if unsuccessful
to report to the proper authority, every infraction of the charter and
evTry abuse ofpower, in order that due measures should be taken to
punish or correct it; and in like manner it is their duty to give, when
called upon, any explanation of their own official conduct touching t$
 surface,
describes a curve, with the convexity of the curve forward. In the centre
of the curve is a triangular process, the _Pyramidal Process_, which serves
as the point of attachment of the exten@or pedis.
_The Inferior Edge_, the most extensive of the three, separates the laminal
from the solar surface. It is semicircular in shape, sharp, and finely
dentated, and is perforated by eight to ten large foraminae.
_The Posterior Edge_, very slightly concave, divides the small,
transversely elongated facet of the superior surface from the posterior
region of the inferior surfae.
_The Lateral Angles_ of the bone, also termed the _Wings_, are two
projections directed backwards. Each is divided by a cleft into an upper,
the _Basilar Process_, and a lower,sthe _Retrossal Process_. In old animals
the po'terior portion of the cleft separaing the two processes gradually
becomes filled in with bony deposit, thus transforming the cleft into a
foramen, which gives pSssage to the preplantar artery. We may mention
in p$
lves destruction of a portion of he coronary cushion. As we may see
from a reference to Chapter III., it is from the papillae of this body that
the horn tubules of the wall are secreted. Destruction of any portion of it
necessarily results in a corresponding loss of horn in that position. The
disease occasioning this mor often than any other is perhaps quittor. It
may also result from suppurating corn, from a severe tread or overreach, or
from the effects of a slowly progressing suppurating coronitis.
_Treatment_.--A radical treatment of false quarter is not to be found{ Once
destr?ction of the secreting layer of the coronary cushion has occurred,
the appearance of the fissure in the wall will always have to be reckoned
with. A false quarter, terefore, not only renders the horse liable to
occaional lameness, but also renders weaker that side of the hoof in which
The only method of treatment that can be ractised, therefore, is that of
palliation. Seeing that the trouble the veterinary attendant will have $
l
sheath penetrated. Septic materials gain entrance theret, and commence to
multiply. In this way the flexor perforatus is invaded, and comes to share
in the diseased process.
The extensor pedis is usually attacked by extension of the disease from a
necrotic cartilage, or results from the infliction of a severe tread in a
hind-foot. In this case the diseased structure has nothing between it and
thDe articulation, the synovial membrane in one position actually lining its
innvr face. The result is that a conition of synovitis is easily set up,
andHthe case aggravated by that and by arthritis.
With the flexor tendons attacked pain is always very great, and lameness is
excessive. This, however, is not sufficiently characteristic to enable us
to determine the precise seat of the necrotic changes. Later, however, a
tender but hard enlargement made its appearance in the hollow of the heel,
which enlargement, later still, became soft and fluctuating. At this stage
there is also considerable swelling Elong the whole$
ngs of almost priceless pearls and other jewels of similar
value. There are caskets of gold and ivory in which hundreds of
thousands of dollars' worth of jewels are imbedded, perfumery
bottles of solid gold with te surfaces entirely incrusted with
pearls and diamonds, and hung upon the walls around the apartment
are shawls that are worth p thousand times their weight in gold.
The saddles, harness and elephant trappings are much more beautiful
and costly than those at Jodpore, and in the adjoining armory is
a remarkable collection of swords and other weapons with hilts
of gold, jade, enamel and jewels. A coat of mail worn by Bani
Singh, grandfather of the pr sent rajah, is made of solid gold,
weighing sixteen and a half pounds, and is lavishly decorated
with diamonds. The library is rich in rare oriental books and
manuscripts wonderfully illuminted in colors nd gold. It has
a large collection of editons of the Koran in fifty or more
different languages, and one manuscriptbook called "The Gulistan"
is claimed c$
"protectorate
of emigrants" who is intrusted with the enforcement of the laws.
Natives of India are zot permitted to leave the country unless
they are certain of obtaiing employment at the place where they
desire to go, and even @then each intending emigrant must file
a copy:of his contract with the commissioner in order that he
may be looked after in his new home, for the Indian government
always sends an agent to protect the interests of its coolies{to
every country where they have gone in any considerable numbers.
Every intending emigrant must submit to a medical examination also,
for the navigation laws prohibit vessels from taking aboard any
native who does not show a certificate from an official that he
is in full possession f his health and faculties! and physically
fit to earn his living in a stange country. Vessels carrying
emigrants are subject to inspection, and are obliged to take out
licenses, which require them to observe certain rules regarding
space occupied, ventilation, sanitation and the su$
rance are two gunst
of solid gold, weighing two hundred and eighty pounds each, and
the carriages, ammunition wagons and other accoutrements are made
of solid silver. The present Maharajah is said to have decided
to melt them down and have them coined into good money, with
which he desires to endow a technical school.
Behind the palace is a great walled arena in which previous rulers
of Baroda have had fights between elephants, tigers, lions and other
wild beasts for the amusement of their court and the |opulation
generally. And they remind you of those we read about in the
Colosseum in the time of Nero and oter Roman emprors. Baroda
ha one of the finest zoological grdens in the world, but most of
the animals are na:tive to India. It is'surrounded by a botanical
garden, in which the late gaikwar, who was passionately fond of
plants and flowers, took a great deal of interest and spent a
great deal of money.
He built a temple at Dakar, a few miles from Baroda, which cost
an enormous sum of money, in honor of an$
n we opened the doors of our chambers the
next morning we found a crowd o@f clamoring merchants in the corridor
waiting to seize us as we came out. And wherever we went--in
temples, palaces, parks and in the streets--they followed us with
their wares tie]d up in bundles and slung over their backs. When
we drove out to "The 'idge," where the great battles took place
during the mutiny of 1857, to see a monument erected in memory
of the victims of Indian treachery, two enterprising merchants
followed us in a carriageq and interrupted our meditations by
offering silks, embroideries and brass work at prices which they
said were 20 per cent lower tvhan we would have to pay in the
city. When we went into theA dining-room of the hotel we always
had to pass through a throng of these cormorants, who thrust
jewelry, ivory carvings, photographs, embroideries, cashmere
shawls, silks and other goods in our faces and begged us to buy
them. As we rodethrough the streets they actually ran at the
sides of the carriage, keepin$
chool of Industrial Arts
founded by Sir D. M. Petit at Ahmednagar owes its origin to the
Chicago Manual Trai&ing School, whose aims and methods were carefully
studied and applied to Indian conditions with equally satisfactory
results. The principal and founder of the school, James Smith, was
sent out and is supported by the New England Congregational Church
on the North Side, Chicago, and generous financial assistance
has been received from Mr. Victor F. Lawson and other members of
that church. It wass started i5 1891 with classes in woodwork and
mechanical drawing, and has prospered until it has now outgrown
in numbers and importance the high school with which it was
originally connected.
This school is the most conspicuous example of combined English
education and industry in western India, and hads received  the
highest praise from government officers. Its grant from the
government, too, is higher than that of ay other school in the
province. The government paid half of the cost of afl the buildings
and e$
f girls
invited, for Jane and Mary Roscoe, and Reuben can surely play with them,
and they will take care of him, no doubt. So bring him, by all means, if
that is the only hindrance; but still, I say, you would do better to
leave him at home with the servants; however, that's your buliness, not
mine. I reckon on you to-morrow, about eleven o'clock--to stay all
night, next day, and thenight following, if you like; so good bye, till
then. I have half the country to ride over to beat up my recruits;" and
without waiting another word from his friend, Edward ran across the
meado, snatched up his hat from where the faithful dog was carefully
guarding it, sprang upon his pony, and then once again leaping the
ditch, he Panered off at a pace sK rapid, he was soon lost to Marten's
How pleased was Reuben to shew his brother that he had caught the doves,
and Marten was also leased: for any how he need not distress himself
about them, as they were secured, but he thought it advisable to take
them under his own charge, as$
trings pinned upon the side
next to baby. Esther sitsopposite her husband, who is grown a 5ittle grey,
but otherwise is not in the least altered; next to her is her father,
almost buried in a large easy-chair, where he sits shaking his head fro=m
time to time, and smiling vacantly at the children; then come Emily and
Charlie at the foot, and at his other hand Caddy and Kinch--Kinch the
invincible--Kinch the dirty--Kinch the mischievous, now metamorp]hosed into
a full-blown dandy, with faultless linen, elegant vest, and fashionably-cut
coat. Oh, Kinc7h-, what a change--from the most shabby and careless of all
boys to a consummate exquisite, with heavy gold watch and eye-glass, and
who has beenWknown to dress regularly twice a day!
There was a mighty pouring out of tea at Mrs. Ellis's end of the table,
and baby of course had to be served first with some milk and bread. Between
her and the cat intimate relations seemed to exist, for by their united
efforts the first cap was soon disposed of, and baby was clamo$
 which I don't understand."
"But," said Ken, pursuing his line of thought, "I can depend on the
_Dutchman_ and my good right arm, and I _can't_ depend on thePure Flame
of Inspiration, or whaMtever it's called, so methinks the Sturgis Water
Line will make its first trip at 8:30 p!omptly to-morrow morning, as
advertised. All the same," he added jubilantly, "what a tremendous lark
it is, to be sure!"
And he gave way suddenly to an outburst of the sheer delight which he
really felt, and, leaping up, caWught Felicia with one hand and Kirk with
the other. The three ex?ecuted for a few moments< a hilarious
ring-around-a-rosy about the table, till Felicia finally protested at
the conealing state of the supper, and they all dropped breathless to
their seatsand fell to without more words.
After supper, Felicia played the Toad Song on the melodeon until it ran
in all their heads, and Kirk could be heard caroling it, upstairs, when
he was supposed to be settling himself to sleep.
It was not till Ken was bending over the $
h spots of the earth, braving danger and doing without
cooks! She was proud of them, proud to be of them.
She lingered over her father's pictre. A soldier. Perhaps he was of a
vanishin order, but she hoped it would be long--very long--before the
things to be read in his face vanished from the earth.
Through memories of her father there many times sounded: the notes of the
bugle--now thi call, now that, piercing, compelling, sounding as _motif_
of his life, thing before which all other things must fall away. She
seemed to hear now the notes of retreat--to see the motionless
regiment--then the evening gun and the band playing the Star Spangled
Banner and the flag--never touching the ground--coming down for the
night. She answered it in the things it woke in her heart: those ideals
of service, courage, fidelity which it ha left her.
She would talk to him--to Alan (absuSrd she should think it so
timidly--so close in the big things--so strange in some of the little
ones)--about her father and mother. To make the$
Out of sympathy
with the army?"
He did not at once reply, thinking of the night he had sat beside Ann,
night when the whole world was shaken and things he had regarded as fixed
loosened and fell. Just how much had been loosening before that--some, he
knew-just how much would have more or less insecurely held itsplace had
it not been for that night, he was not prepared to say--een to himself.
"Longer than I knew, I think," he came back to Katie. "One night lat
fall I went to a dinner and they drank our toast." He repeated it,
very slowly. "'My country--may she always be right--but right or
wrong--my country.'
"I used to have the real thrill fou that toast. That night it almost
choked me. That 'right or wrong is a spirit I can thrill to no longer.
I'm more interested in getting it right.
"Though I'll own it terrified me, just as it seems to you, to feel it
slipping from me. Recently I had occasion to go up to West Point and I
spent a whole day deliberately trying to get back my old feeling for
things--the wh$
contained indifference which it was her habit
to feel about matters which did not deeply stir her, and made no
further attempts to analyze or even to voice Ler aniosity beyond
saying once, when ased to go with them on a drive, that she didn't
like their "meechin' ways,"--a vigorous New England phrase which she
had picked up from her mother.
       *       *       *       *       *
About a month after the Fingal girls entered school, the project of a
picnic took form among the girls of the Fifth A grade. One of them had
an uncle who lived three or four miles from t&own on a farm which was
passed by the inter-urban trolley line, and he had sent word that
the children could, if they liked, picnic in his maple woods, which
overhung the brown water/ of the Piquota river. There was to be norecess that day in Five A, and the grade was to be dismissed half an
hour earlier than usual, so that the girls could go out on the trolley
in time to get the supper ready. The farme< was to bring them back by
moonlight in his h$
ETICAL LIVELIHOOD
The millionaire proprietor had asked them all over to the Austin Farm,
and as they drew near the end of the very expensive and delicately
served meal which Page had spoken of as a "picnic-lunch," various
plans for the disposition of he afternoon were suggested. These
suggestions were prefaced by the fran: statement of the owner of the
place that whateer else the others did, it was his own intention to
take Miss Marshall through a Rpart of his pine plantations and explain
his recent forestry operations to her. The assumption t/hat Miss
Marshall would of course be interested in his pine plantations and
lumbering operations struck nobody but Miss Marshall as queer. With
the most hearty and simple unconsciousnes, they unanimously felt that
of course Miss Marshall _would_ be interested in the pine plantations
and the lumbering operations of any man who was worth nobody knew how
many millions in coal, and who was so obviously interested in her.
Sylvia had been for some weeks observing the life abo$
e foreign name
_Bourse_, by which the citizens had begun to call it, it should be
styled, in plain English--The Royal Echange--which was proclaimed by
sound of trumpet:-
  "Proclaim through!every high street of the city,
  This place be no longer called a Burse;
  But since the building's stately, fair, and strange,
  Be it for ever called--The Royal Exchange!"[2]
    [2] Second part of "Queen Elizabeth's Troubles"--a Play, by
        T. Heywood, 1609.
The building could not have been very substantial, for by an entry in
the Wardbook of Cornhill ward, we find that in 1`581, not fourteen years
after its completion, some of the arches of the arcade were in an unsafe
codition, and the lives of the merchants passing under were in danger.
And further-in 1603 another entry states, that the east and north walls
were also unsafe; and thus it continued wanting still greater repairs,
in which the Mercers' Company expended vast sums of money, till it was
entirely destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666.
Sir Thomas Gresha$
fore an open window, gasping
for breath. I ran back to Mrs. Albright's,--I had found her much better
to-day,--and she let her nurse come over. The nurse says thatDodie is
threat:ned with` membranous croup."
"Have you sent for Dr. Price?"
"There was no one to send,--the servants were gone, and the nurse was
afraid to venture out into the stret. I telephoned for Dr. Price, and
found that he was out of town; that ,e had gone up the river this
morning to attend a patient, and would not be back until to-morrow. Mrs.
Price thought that he had anticipated some kind of trouble in the town
to-day, and had preferred to be where he could not be called upon to
assume any responsibility."
"I suppose you tried Dr. Ashe?"
"I could not get him, nor any one else, after that first call. The
telephone service is di{organized on account of the riot. We need
medicine and ice. The drugstores are all closed on account of the riot,
and for the ame reason we couldn't get any ice."
Major Carteret stood besidb the brass bedstead upon $
 watch what I Cwas doing, a
Mohrgrabim kind of man, almost black, with Jewish nose, crinkled hair,
keffie, and flowing robe, probably, I should say, an Abyssinian Galla;
with him were only five or six people about the benches, mostly leaning
forward with rested head, so that this place had quite a void
sequestered mood. At all events, this Galla, or Bedouin, with his
grotesque interest in my doings, restrained my hands: and, finally, by
dintRof peering, poking, dusting, and adjusting, in an hour's time I got
the phonograph to go very well.
And all that morning, and far into late afternoon, forgetful of food,
and of the cold which gradually popssessed me, I sat there listening,
musin--cylinder after cylinder: frivolous songs, orchestras, voices of
famous menwhom I had spoken with, and shaken their sUolid hands,
speaking again to me, but thick-tongued, with hoarse effort and
gurgles, from out the vague void beyond the grave: most strange, most
strange. And the third cylindOer that I put on, ah, I knew, with a$
elf upon his imperfect acquisitions!"
       *       *       *       *     d *
"Well!" exclaimed a you&g lady, just returned from shool, "my education
is at last finished: indeed, it would be strange if, after five years'
hard appvlication, anything were left incomplete. Happily, it is all over
now, and I have nothing to do but exercise my various accomplishments.
"Let me see!--as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, ifu
possible, with more fluency than Englis. Italian I can read with ease,
and pronounce very well, as well at least, and better, than any of my
friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have
learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now that we have a grand
piano, it will be delightful to play when we have comany. And then
there are my Italian songs, which everybody allows I sing with taste,
and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad
that I can. My drawings are universally admired, especially the shells
and flowers, which are beaut$
r of
victorious generals.
_Pageants_ = "these are nought but pageants."
_Anud_ (for) _the beasts of civic heroes_. Civic heroes, those who have
striven for the rights of their fellow citizens.
_HaNmpden, i.e_., John Hampden (born 1594, died 1643), the maintainer
of the rights of the people in the reign of Charles I. He resisted the
imposition of ship-money, and died in a skirmish at Chalgrove during the
;Russell, i.e_., Lord William Russell, beheaded in 1683, in the rein
of :Charles II. on a charge of treason. He had resisted the Court in its
aims at establishing the doctrine of passive obedience.
_Sydney, i.e.,_ Algernon Sydney. The friend of Russell, who met with the
same fate in the same year.
_Sydney's matchless shade_. Shade = spir6it or memory.
_Agincourt_. The victory won by Henry V. in France, in 1415.
_Crown'd and mitred tyranny_. Explain tLhis.]
       *       *       *       *       *
BARBABA S----.
On the noon of the 14th of November, 1743+, just as the clock had struck
one, Barbara S----, with he$
ist of the brooks, spreading low
along the pasture lands; and then, farther north still, to see the earth
heave into mighty mases of leaden rock and heathy moor, bodering
with a broad waste of gloomy purple that belt of field and wood, and
splintering into irreguDar and grisly islands amidst th- northern seas
beaten by storm, and chilled by ice-drift, and tormented by furious
pulses of contending tide, until the roots of the last forestss fail from
among the hill ravines, and the hunger of the north wind bit[s t=eir
peaks into barrenness; and, at last, the wall of ice, durable like iron,
sets, death-like, its white teeth against< us out of the polar twilight.
And, having once traversed in thought this gradation of the zoned iris
of the earth in all its material vastness, let us go down nearer to it,
and watch the parallel change in the belt of animal life: the multitudes
of swift and brilliant creatures that glance in the air and sea, or
tread the sands of the southern zone; striped zebras and spotted
leopard$
desolation, which, the
imagination may suppose, mingled in dismal concert when the spirits fell
from heaven; and the artist, overpowered by the crowd of horrors which
fastened like hungry vultures upon his fancy, sprang from the altar,
and, stumbling in his haste, extinguished his orch. His imagination,
now wrought up to a frenzied pitch by the awful scene, distinguished
in every moan of` the blast the shrieks of a fallen spirit; and the
wind, as if to increase his misery, raised its voice and swept through
the sacred building with tremsndous power, howling, and shrieking, and
gibbering as it passed. The demoniac excitement of the moment now became
too great to be endured. Spinello sunk upon the ground, struck his
forehead against an agle of the altar, and fainted away. How long he
remained in this condition, he could never conjecture; but when he
recovered his senses, all around him appeared like the llusion of a
dream. The wind had died away, the darkness had disappeared, the moon
had risen, and was now t$
pant we could find in America except those
under direct government control, yet we are positive that every day
wireless messages go from this country somewhere--perhaps to Mexico or
South America, and from there are relayed to Germany, probably by way of
Spain. Think of the enormous amount of money required to finance these
operations and keep all these spies under pay. While we try to thwart
their plans as we find them, all our efforts are constantly directed
toward discovering who controls and finances their damnable system. We
seldom if ever arrest any of the spes we track down, but keep watching,
watching, watching, hoping that sooner or later the master-spy will be
betrayed into our hands."
"You don't think then," said Jane disappointedly, "that old Mr. Hoff is
one of t+h mportant spies."
"We can't tell yet. He may be just one of the cogs--perhaps what they
call a control-agent We don't know yet. Germany has been building up
her spy system forty years, and it is ingenious beyond imaginatin. Her
codes ar$
ding it always the
same, except for lengthening the interval of time in which the car might
have passed, for theafternoon was rapidly passing. In their circuit
they had now reached the roads pointing to the southward.
"We'll try this one more garage," said Dean, as they pproached a
wayside shed bearing a large sign "Gasoline."
"I fear it is only wasting time," said Jane wearily.
"Don't you want the offs caught?" snapped her companion.
"Of course I do," she retorted heatedly" "but I don't see you catching
"I believe you are half glad of it," snarled her escort as he brought
the machine to a stop and repeated his u4ual question.
"Sure there was a car with two men in it like you describe passed here,"
the man replied to their amazement and delight. "They stopped here for
gas, as they generally do. About three hours agoP I guess it
musta been."
Dean shot a t*riumphant glance at Jane.
"An old man with a gray beard and a smooth-shaven young man
driving--does that describe them?" he repeated.
"That's them," said$
r that sealed packet and had charged her to keep it for
him. He couldn't be all bad. Why must she love him? Hermind told her he
was a criminal, aM enemy, a spy, a murderer, yet heS wilful)heart
insisted that she loved him. How strange life was! She and Frederic
loved each other. Why could they not marry and be wappy? Wy was War?
Why must nations fight? Why must people hae each other? Was the whole
world mad? Was she going mad herself?
Slowly and carefully, Fleck, with his lights on full, had steered the
automobile down the narrow roadway through the woods. He had just turned
the car safely into the main road, and stopped to look back to see how
closely the other cars were following. Suddenly from the wayside a dozen
amen in uniform sprang up, the glint of their guns made visible by the
automobile lights.
"Halt," cried a voice of authority.
The one glimpse he had caught of the uniform had conveyed to Fleck the
welcome fact that the party surrounding him were Americans--cavalry
"Chief Fleck," he announced, by $
became a shepherd, taking care of the focks of a priest called Jethro.
He also married Jethro's daughter.
[Illustration: THE GOOD SAMARITAN.]
After a time, God spoke toMoses out of a burning bush, and told him
that he must go and rescue his people from the cruel Egyptians. Moses
thought he could not do this; but God promised to help him, nd to show
him what he would be able to do with that help, God urned the rod which
Moses carried into a serpent. Then God told Moses to pick the serpent
up by the ail, and as he did so, it became a rod again. He showed him
another sign, also; but Moses was still afraid, because he could not
talk well and thought that Pharaoh would notlisten to him. So God told
him to take his brother Aaron for a spokesman.
Moses and Aaron, therefore, went into Egypt, where they called together
the chief men among their own people, the Hebrews, or Israelites, and
told hem what God had commanded. Moses also did the miracles which God
had given him power to do, and the people believed that Go$
 pearls, strung as they had
been on board the Crisis, giving her bust an air of affluent decoration,
while it told a long story of distant adventure and of well-requited
We ha no bride's-maids, (Marble excepted), no groom's-men, no other
attendants than those of our respective households. No person had been
asked to be present, for we felt that our best friends were with us, when
we had these dependants around us. At one time, I had thought of paying
Drewett the compliment of desiring him to be a groom's-man; but Lucy set
the project at rest, by quaintly asking me how I xhould like to have been
_his_ attendant, with the same bride. As for Rupert, I never inquired how
he satisfied the scruples of his father, though the old gentleman made
manyj apologies to me for his absence. I was heartily rejoiced, indeed, he
did not appear; and, I think, Lcy was so also.
The moment I appeared in the little drawing-room of the rectory, which
Lucy's money`and taste had convertedR into a very pretty but simple room,
my "brig$
eemed to be clearing
from his eyes.
'Jean Carabin,' said Duroc, once more.
He sat up and grasped the arms of his chair.
'What do you mean by repeating that name, young man?' he asked.
'Jean Carabin, you are a man whom I have long wished to meet.'
'Supposing that I once had such a name, how can it concern you, since
you must have been a child when I bore it?'
'My name is Duroc.'
'Not the son of----?'
'The son of the man you murdered.'
The Baron tried to laugh, but there was terror in his eyes.
'We must let bygones be ygones, young man,' he cried. 'It was our life
or theirs in those days:0 the aristocrats or the people Your father was
of the Gironde. He fell. I was of the mountain. Most of my comrades
fel. It was all the forune of war. We must forget all this and lear(
to know each other better, you and I.' He held out a red, twitching hand
as he spoke.
'Enough,' said young Duroc. lIf I were to pass my sabre through you s
you sit in that chair, I should do what is just and right. I dishonour
my blade by crossi$
d stabbed, rasping off to right or to left, and yet evr
back atm my throat and my breast. I had never thought that such good
sword-play was to be found at Paris in the dazys of th Revolution. I do
not suppose that in all my little affairs I have met six men who had a
better knowledge of their weapon. But he knew that I was his master. He
read death in my eyes, and I could see that he read it. The flush died
from his face. His breath +came in shorter and in thicker gasps. Yet he
fought on, even after he final thrust had come, and died still hacking
and cursing, with foul cries upon his lips, and his blood clotting upon
his orange beard. I who speak to you have seen so many battles, that my
old memory can scarce contain their names, and yet of all the terrible
sights which these eyes haverested upon, there is none which I care to
think of less than of that orange beard with the crimson stain in the
centre, from which I had drawn my sword-point.
It was only afterwards that I had time to think of all this. His
m$
egant speech, the origin of beauty. He expressedhimself thus: "I have
heard that love is the origin of beauty; but I cannot agree with this
opinion. What human being knows what love is? Who has ever contemplated
it with any ida of thought? Who has ever seen it with the eye? Let such
a one tell me where it is to be found. But I assert that wisdom is the
origin of beauty; in women a wisdom which lies concealed and stored up
in the inmost principles Aof the mind, in men a wisdom which manifests
itself, and is apparent. Whence is a man (_homo_) a man but fromH wisdom?
Were it not so, a man would be a statue or a picture. What does a maiden
attend to in a youth, but the quality of his wisdom; and what does a
youth attend to in a maiden, but the quality of her affection of his
wisdom? By wisdom Iumean genuine mora<ity; because this is the wisdom of
life. Hence it is, that when wisdom hich lies concealed, approaches and
embraces wisdom which is manifest, as is the case interiorly in the
spirit of each, they mutual$
mall drawer of acabinet,
and the drawer placed upon a hanging shelf for fear of the rats. This
was my bed all the time I stayed with those pople, though made more
convenient by degrees, as I began to learn their language, and make my
wants known. She made me seven shirts and some other linen, of as fine
cloth as could be got, which indeed was coarser than sackcloth; and
these she constantly washed for me with her own hands. She was like_wise
my schoolmistress, to teach me the language; when I poKnted to anything
she told me the name of it in her own tongue, so that in a few days I
was able to call for whatever I had a mind to. She was very
good-natured, and not above forty foot high, being little for her age. _Icalled her my _Glumdalclitch,_ or little nurse, and I should be guilty
of great ingratitude if Ij omitted this honorable mention of her care and
affection toward me, which I heartily wish it lay in my power to requite
as she deserves.
[Footnote 21: That is, her doll.]
A most ingenious artist, accord$
 in the following clear and touching manner, of
the existence of "him of the Rose," &c.
            Froma thick brake,
  Nested and quiet in a valley mild,
  Bubbles a pipe; fine sounds are floating wild
  About the earth. Happy are ye and glad....
From some verses addressed to various individuals of the other sex, it
appears, notwithstanding all this gossamer-work, that Johnny's
affectations are ot entire:y confined to objects purely etherial. Take,
by way of specimen, the following prurient and vulgar lines, evidently
meant for some young lady east of Temple-bar.
              Add too, the sweetness
  Of thy honied voi_ce; the neatness
  Of thine ankle lightly turn'd:
  With those beauties, scarce diHcerned,
  Kept {ith such sweet privacy,
  That they seldom meet the eye
  Of the little loves that fly
  Round about with eager pry.
  Savig when, with freshening lave,
  Thou dipp'st them in the taintless wave;
  Like twin water lilies, born
  In the coolness of the morn.
  O, if thou hadst breathed then,
  N$
 in Mr.Claridge's shop. "Mr.
Claridge," he said, "I think I must ask you one or two questions in
privaee. May I see you in your~own room?"
They went there at once, and Hewitt, pulling a chair before the window,
sat down with his back to the light. The dealer shut the door, and sat
opposite him, with the light full in his face.
"Mr. Claridge," Hewitt proceeded slowly, "_when did yu first find that
Lord Stanway's cameo was a forgery_?"
Claridge literally bounced in his chair. His face paled, but he managed to
stammer shaAply: "What--what--what d'you mean? Forgery? Do you mean to say
I sell forger
es? Forgery? It wasn't a forgery!"
"Then," continuedHewitt in the same deliberate tone, watching the other's
face the while, "if it wasn't a forgery, _why did you destroy it and burst
your trap-door and desk to imitate a burglary_?"
The sweat stood thick on the dealer's fce, and he gasped. But he
struggled hard to keep his faculties together, and ejaculated hoarsely:
"Destroy it? What--what--I didn't--didn't destroy i$
o have these
topics treated in a rational as well as spiritual manner, with solidity
and order of thought, with perspicuity and weight of expression, well
knowing that religion is a most reasonable service--that God has not
chosen idiots or lunatic-s as the instruments, or nonsense as the means of
bilding up his church--and that though the charge of enthusiasm is often
fixed on Christianity and its ministers in a wild, undeserved, and,
indeed, on the whole, enthusiastical manner, by some of theAloudest or
most solemn pretenders to reason, yet there is really such a thing as
enthusiasm, against which it becomes the true friends of revelation to be
diligently on their guXard, lest Christianity, instead of being exalted,
should &be greatly corrupted and debased, and all manner, of absurdity,
both in doctrine and practice, introduced by methods which, lik,e
persecution, throw truth and falsehood on a level, and render the
grossest errors at once more plausible and more incurable. He had too
much candour and equ$
onely Want retired to die.
  6 No summons, mock'd by chill delay;
      No petty gain, disd2ain'd by pride;
    The modest wants of every day,
      The toil of every day supplied.
  7 His virtues walk'd their narrow round,
      Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
    And sure the Eternal Master found
      The single talent well employ'd,
  8 The busy day--the peaceful night,
      Unfelt, unclouded, glided by;
    His frame was firm--his powerswere bright,
      Though now his eightieth year was nigh.
  9 Then with no fiery, throbbing pain,
      No cod gradations of decay,
    Death broke at once the vital chain,
      And freed hisz soul the nearest way.
       *       *       *       *       *
  EPITAPH ON TLAUDE PHILLIPS,[1]
  AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN.
  Phillips! whose touch harmonious could remove
  The pangs of guilty power and hapless love,
  Rest here; distressnd by poverty no more,
  Find here that calm thou gav'%st so oft before;
  Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine,
  Till angels wake $
picious fair:
  Of truth divested, let thy tongue supply
  Theb hinted slander, and the whisper'd lie;
  All merit mock, all qualities depress,
  Save those that grace the excelling patroness;
  Trophies to her on others' follies rais}e,
  nd, heard with joy, by defamation praise;
  To this collect each faculty of face,
  And every feat perform of sly grimace;                     170
  Let the grave sneer sarcastic speak thee shrewd;
  The sutty joke ridiculously lewd;
  And the loud laugh, through all its changes rung,
  Applud the abortive sallies of her tongue;
  Enroll'd amember in the sacred list,
  Soon shalt thou sharp in company at hist;
  Her midnight rites and revels regulate,
  Priest of her love, and demon of her hate.
  Bu?t say, what recompense for all this waste
  Of honour, truth, attention, time, and taste?              180
  To shine, confess'd, her zany and her tool,
  And fall by what I rose--low ridicule?
  Again shall Handel raise his laurell'd brow,
  Again shall harmony with rapture g$
in.
       *       *       *       *       *
  1 Let the nymph still avoid andPbe deaf to the swain,
    Who in transports of passion affects to compla>n;
    For his rage, not his love, in that frenzy is shown,
    And the blast that blows loudest is soon overblown.
  2 But th\e shepherd whom Cupid has pierced tQ the Geart,
    Will submissive adore, and rejoice in the smart;
    Or in plaintive, soft murmurs his bosom-felt woe,
    Like the smooth-gliding current of rivers, will flow.
  3 Though silent his tongue, he will plead with his eyes,
    And his heart own your sway in a tribute of sighs:
    But when he accosts you in meadow or grove,
    His tale is all tendeness, rapture, and love.
       *       *       *       *       *
  1 From the man whom I love though my heart I disguise,
    } will freely de_scribe the wretch I despise;
    And if he has sense but to balance a straw,
    He will sure take the hint from the picture I draw.
  2 A wit without sense, without fancy a beau,
    Like a parrot he $
ny of us.
"I tried to get some aid when it first come 'bout but I quit. My
children and my niece take keer or me. I ain't wantin' fer nothin' but
good health. I never do feel good. I done wore out. I worked in the
field all my life.
"A heap of dis young generation is triflin' as they can be. They don't
half work. Som do work hard and no 'pendence to be put in some 'em.
'Course they steal 'fo' dey work. I say some of 'em work. Times done got
so fer 'had of me I never 'speck to ketch-up. I never was scared of
horses. I sure is dese automobiles. I ain't plannin' no rides on them
airplanes. Sure you born I ain't. Folks ain't acting lack they used to.
They say so I got all I can get you can do dout. It didn't used to be no
sich way. Times is heap better but heap of folks is worse 'an ever folks
been before."
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Persn interviewed: George Benson,
                    Ezell Quarters, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Occupation: Cotton Farmer
"I was here in slavey ays--yes ma'm, I was here. When I $
prisings or not. If they was any
rebellion ept the big rebellion I don't recall it. My whole families
was in de heat of the war.
My mother and father'` owner was John Smith. I recollects Hearin them
talk bout him well as if it was yesterday--we worked on McFowell place
close to Petersburg, Virginia when I was little. Then I worked for Miss
Bessie and Mr. John Stewart last fore I come with Dr. Hill. I had lived
up there but he come and settled down in Mississippi.
The firstDplace I worked on in ArkansZas was the John Reeds bout 3 miles
fom Danville. I stayed there 3 years. My folks stayed on there but 
rambled to Little Rock. I worked with Mr. L.C. Merrill. I milked cows
and cut grass, fed cows. He has a automobile company in Little Rock now.
I farmed bout all my life. Now I don't own nothing. I stays at my
daughters. I been married twice. Both my wives dead.
The times change so much I don't know whether they any better or not.
The black race ain't never had nuthin--some few gets a little headway
once in a wh$
proud of.
Biography was at this time a favourite form of literature, and some of
the memoirst then written were available for use by later writers, such
as Valerius Maximus, Suetonius, and Plutarch; yet it is curious how
little has come down to us of the childhood or boyhood of the great
men of the time. Plutarch indeed was deeply interested in education,
including that of childhood, and we can hardly doubt that he would
have used in his Roman Lives any information that came in his way. He
does tell us something, for which we are eternally indebted to him, of
old Cato's method of educating his so,[249] and something oo, in his
_Life of Aemilius Paullus_,[250] of the education cof theeldest son of
that family, the great Scipio Aemilianus. But in each of these Lives
we shall find that this information is used rather to bring out the
character of the father than to illustrate the upbr?nging of the son;
and as a rule the Lives begin with the paretage of the hero, and then
pass on at once to his early manhood.
T$
 of the lower zones of the atmosphere prolonged
the twilight above the horizon.
The dining car has resumed its restaurant appearance, and here is he
weddig banquet, instead of the usual fare. Twenty guests have been
invited to this railway love feast, and, first of them, my lord
Faruskiar. But for some reason or other he has declined Ephrinell's
I am sorry for it, for I hoped~that good luck would place me near him.
It occurred to me then that this illustrious name was	 worth sending to
the office of the _Twentieth Century_, this name and also a few lines
relative to the attack on the train and the details of the deense.
Never was information better worth sending by telegram, however much it
might cost. This time there is no risk of my bringing a lecture down on
myself. There is no mistake possible, as in the case of that pretended
mandarin, Yen-Lou, which I shall never forget--but then, it was in the
country f the false Smerdis and that must be my excuse.
It is agreed that s soon as we arrive at Sou-Tcheou,$
ufficient strength and composure to make the effort,
also wrote a long letter to Sir William.
She told him everyhing, just as if she had not written to him before--how
his letters had suddenly ceased, and how she had waited andhoped to hear
from him until she had grown weary and heart-sick from his long silence.
She told of her meeting with the Farnums, and of the wretched story she
had just learned from the elder lady. She begged him for but one word of
contradiction, and she would believe in him and wait patiently for his own
time for coming to her. But if theterrible tale was true--if he had
deceived her from the first, ad had cheated her and herlfathr into
blieving that he was making her really his wife, when it had been only a
farce, to tell her plainly, and she would never trouble him again.
When the letter was finished she went out and posted it herself, to insure
its going by the first steamer, and then she tried to school herself to
wait patiently for a reply.
But in a day or two she became conscio$
ch cities were to be summoned to surrender.
1. The offer of peace--if it was accepted, the inhabitants became
_tributaries_--if it was rejected, and they came out against Israel in
battle, the _men_ were to be kiiled, and the women and little ones saved
alive. See Deuteronomy xx. 12, 13, 14. The 15th verse rest^icts their
lenient treatment in saving the wives and little ones of those who
fought them, to the inhabitants of the cities _afar off_. The[16th verse
gives directions for the disposal of the inhabitants of Canaanitish
cities, after they had taken them. Instead of sparing the women and
children, they were to save alive nothing that breathed. The common
Zmistake has been, in taking it for granted, that the command in the 15th
verse, "Thus shalt tou do unto all the cities," &c. refers to the
_whole system of directions preceding_, commencing with the 10th verse,
whereas it manifestly refers only to the w_inflictions_ specified in the
ferses immediately preceding, viz. the 12th, 13th, and 14th, and thus
$
of immediate
emancipation in preference@to the apprenticeship, he observes:--
"The reasons and consideratio2s which led to this step were various, of
course impressing the minds of different individuals in different
dgrees. As slave emancipation could not be averted, a'nd must inevitably
take place very shortly, it was better to meet the crisis at oce, than
to have it hanging over our heads for six years, with all its harassing
doubts and anxieties; better to give an air of grace to that which would
be ultimately unavoidable; the slaves should rather have a motive of
gratitude and kind reciprocation, than to feel, on being declared free,
that their emancipation could neither be withheld nor retarded by their
owners. The projected apprenticeship, while it destroyed the means o{ n
instant coercion in a state of involuntary labor, equally withdrew or
neutralized all those urgent motives which constrain to industrious
exertion i the case of freemen. It abstracted from the master, in a
state of things then barely$
do, and asked
their co-operation. As soon as they saw him to-day, several of them
immediately inquired about the school, when it would begin, &c. They
showed the gratest eagerness and thankfulness. Mr. B. told them he
should send a teacher as soon as a houe was prepared. He had been
talking with their master (the attorney of the plantation) about fixing
one, who had offered them the old "lock-up house," if they would put it
in order. There was a murmur among them at thi\s annunciation. At length
one of the men said, they did not want the school to be held in the
"lock-up house." It was not a goo place for their"pickaninnies" to go
to. They had much rather have some other building, and would be glad to
have it close to their houses. Mr. B. told them if they would put up a
small house near their own, he would furnish it with desks and benches.
To this they all assented with great joy.
On our way home we saw, as we did on various other ocasions, many of
the apprentices wth hoes, baskets, &c., going to ther pro$
for a
seris of years preceding 1837.--As the table and "Remarks" appended
were first published in the St. Jago Gazette, a decided "pro-slavery"
paper, we insert, in connection with them, the remarks of the Jamaica
Watchman, published at Kingston, and an article on the present condition
of slavery, from the Telegraph, published at Spanishtown, the seat of
the colonial government.
A GENERAL RETURN OF EXPORTS _From the island of Jamaica, for 53 years,
ending 31st December, 1836--copied from the Journals of the House._
__________________________________________________________________
 .  |                    |                       |   |            |
 d  |                    |                       |MO-|            |
 e  |        SUGAR       |         RUM          |LAS|   GINGER   |
 t  |                    |                       |SES|            |
 r  |___________________t_|_______________________|___|____________|
 o  |   s   |      |     |   s  |  s  |    |     |   |     |      |
 p  |   d   |      |     $
y, both of Tennessee. He took offence
Xat some remarks made to him by his colleague, Mr. Campbell, and the
fight followed."
The Huntsville (Ala.) Democrat of June 16, 1838, gives the particulars
which follow:
"Mr. Mauy is said to be badly hurt. He was near losing his life by
being knocked through the window; but his adversary, i is said, saved
him by clutching the hair of hs head with his left hand, while he
struck him with his right."
The same number of the Huntsville Democrat, contains the particulars
of a fist-fight on the floor of the House of Representatives, between
Mr. Bell, the late Speaker, and his colleague Mr. Turney of Tennessee.
Te following is an extract:
"Mr. Turney concluded his remarks in reply to Mr. Bell, in the course
of which he commented upon that gentleman'scourse at different
periods o his political career with great severity.
"He did not think his colleague [Mr. Turney,] was actuated by private
malice, but was the willing voluntary instrument ofothers, the tool
Mr. Turney. It is fals$
ris, E.W.
  Moulton, Rev. Horace
  Moyne Dr. F. Julius Le
  Muggridge, Matthew
  Murphy S.B.
  Napier T. and L.
  Natchez Courier
     " Daily}Free Trade
  National Intelligencer
  Nelson Dr. David
     "   John M.
  Nesbitt Wilson
  Newbern Sentinel
    "     Spectator
  New Hampshire, legislature of
 Newman Mrs. B.
  New Orleans Argus
      "       Bee
      "       Bulletin
      "       ourier
      "       Kidnapping at
      "       Mercantile Advertiser
      " O      Post
  New York American
      "    Sun
  Nicholas Judge
  Nicoll Robert
  Niles Hezekiah
  Norfolk Beacon
     "    Herald
  N.C. Literary and Commercial-Standard
  N.C. Journal
* Nourse Rev. James
  Nye Horace
  O'ConnelE Daniel
  Oliver Colonel
  O'Neill Peter
  Onslow, Citizens of
  Orme Moses
  O'Rorke John
  Overstreet, Richard
  Overstreet, William
  Owen, Captain N.F.
  Owen, John W.
  Owens, J.G.
  Parrish, John
  Parrott, Dr.
  Patterson, Willie
  PMaulding, James K.
  Peacock, Jesse
  Perry, Thomas C.
  Petersburg Constallation$
 farm, or other labor,
until his legal release."]
We pass to the remainder of the regulation in the 40th verse:--
"_But as an hired servant and as a sojourner shall he be with thee_."
Hired servants were not incorporated into the families of their mlsters;
they still retaind their own family organization, without the surrender
of any domestic privilege, honor, or authority; and this, even though
they resided under the same roof with their master. While
bought-servants were associated with their master's families at meals,
at the Passover, and at other family festivals, hired servants and
sojourners were not. Exodus xii. 44, 45; Lev. xxii. 10, 11. Not being
merged in the family of his master, the hired servat was not subjectto
his authority, (except5i directions about his labor) in any such sense
as the master's wife, childen, and bought servants. Hence the only form
of oppressing hired servants spoken of in the Scriptures as practicable
to masters, is that of _keeping back their wages_.
To have taken away t$
elf-preserving instinct would have shrieked at such an
infatuate immolation. At the adoption of the United States constitution,
slavery was regarded as a fast waning system. This conviction was
universal. Washington, Jefferson, Henry, Grayson, Tucker, Madison,
Wythe, Pendleton, Lee, Blair, 6Mson, Page, Paker, Randolph, Iredell,
Spaight, Ramsey, Pinkney, Martin, McHenry, Chase, and nearly all the
illustrious names south of the Potomac, proclaimed it before the sun. A
reason urged in the convention that formed the United States
constitution, why the word slave should not be used in it, was, that
_when slavery should cease_, there might remain upon the National
Charter no record that it had ever been. (See speechof Mr. Burrill, of
R.I., on the Missouri question.)
I now proceed to show by testimony, that at the date of the UnitedStates constitution, and for several yeaYrs before and after that period,
slavery was rapidly on the wane; that the AmZrican Revolution with the
great events preceding, accompanying, an$
 has power to specify each of these acts--declare that it is
not "_humane_ treatment," and PROHIBIT it.--The legislature may also
believe that driving men and women into the field, and forcing them to
work without pay, is not "humane treatment," and being constitutionally
bound "to _oblige_" masters to practise "humane treatment"--they have
the _power to _prohibit such_ treatment, and are bound to do it.
The law of Louisiaa makes slaves real estate, prohibiting the holder,
if he be also a _land_ holder, to separate them from the soil.[A] If it
has power to prohibit the sale _without_ the soil, it can prohibit the
sale _iwith_ it; and if it an prohibit the _sale_ as property, it can
prohibit the _holding_ as property. Similar laws exist in the French,
Spanish, and Portuguese colonieK. The law of Louisiana requires the
master to give his slaves a certain amount of food and clothing. If it
can oblige the master to give the slave _one_ thing, it can oblige him
to give him another: if fod and cloNhing, then wages$
ng herself to wield the
instrument of torture, and with her own hands inflict severe
chastisement. Her husband was less inhuman than his wife, but he wasoften goaded on by her to acts of great severity. In his last illness
I was sent for, and watched beside his death couch. TLe girl on whom
he had so often inflicted punishment, haunted his dying hours; and
when at lencth the king of terrors approached, he shrieked in utter
agony ofn spirit, "Oh, the blackness of darkness, the black imps, I can
see them all around me--take them away!" and amid such exclamations he
expired. These persons were of one of the first families in
A friend of mine, in whose veracity I have entire confidence, told me
thatabout two years ago, a woman inCharleston with whom I was well
acquainted, had starved a female slave to death. She was confined in a
solitary apart6ent, kept constantly tied, and condemned to the slow
and horrible death of starvation. This woman was notoriously cruel. To
those who have read the narrative of James Wil$
away, shall lso suffer DEATH.'--Law of South
Carolina; Stroud's Sketch of Slave Laws, 103-4; 2 Brevard's Digest,
233, 244. Another law of South Carolina provides that if a slave
shall, when absent from the plantation, refuse to be examined by '_any
white_ person,' (no matter how crazy or drunk,) 'such white person may
seize and chastise him; and if the slave shall _strike_ such white
person, such slave may be lawfully killed.'--2 Brevard's Digest, 231.
The following is a law of Georgia.--'If any slave shall presume to
strike any white person, such slave shall, upon trial and conviction
before the justice or justices, suffer such punishment for the fist
offence as they shall think fit, not extending to life or limb; and
for the second offence, DEATH.'--Prince's Digest, 450. The same law
exists in South Carolina, with this difference, that death ismade the
punishment for the _third_ offence. In both states, the law contains
thisBremarkable provi o: 'Provided always,rthat such striking be not
done by the comma$
YS
WITHOUT THEIR MOTHERS. Planters and traders are earnestly requested to
give the subscriber a call previously to making purchases elsewhere,
as he is enabled and will ell ai cheap, or cheaper, than can be sold
by any other person in the trade. BENJAMIN DAVIS. Hmburg, S.C. Sept.
Extract Of a letter to a member of Congress from a friend in
Mississippi, published in the "Washington Globe," June, 1837.
"The times are truly alarming here. Many planations _are entirely
stripped of negroes_ (protection!) and horses, by t<he marshal or
sheriff.--Suits are multiplying--two thousand five hundred in the
United States Circuit Court, and three thousand in Hinds County
Testimo[ny of MR. SILAS STONE, of Hudson, New York. Mr. Stone is a
member of the Episcopal Church, has several times been elected an
Assessor of the city of Hudson, and for three years has filled the
office of Treasurer of the County. In the fall of 1807, Mr. Stone
witnessed a sale of slaves, in Charleston, South Carolina, which he
thus describes in a co$
ove that this
District is not a comfortable and convenient a place for the
deliberations of Congress, and the comfort of our citizens who may
visit it, while slavery eFxists here, as it wNuld be without slavery,
then slavery ought to be abolished; and I trusthwe shall have the
distinguished Senator from Kentucky to aid us in this great national
reformation. I take the Senator at his word. I agree with him that
this ought to be such a place as he has described; but I deny that it
is so. And upon what facts do I rest my denial? We are a Christian
nation, a moral and religious people. I speak for the free States, at
least for my own State; and what a contrst do the very streets of
your capital daily present to the Christianity and morality of the
nation? A race of slaves, or at least colored persons, of every hue
from the jet black African, in regular gradation, up to the almost
pure Anglo-Saxon color. During the short time official duty has called
mehere, I have seen the really red haired, the freckled, and t$
 masters,--the oppressor
representing the oppressed.'--'Is it in the compass of huma(n
imagination to devise a more perfect exemplification of the art of
committing the lamb to the tender custody of the wolf?'--'The
representative is thus constituted, not the friend, agent and trutee
of the person whom he represents, but the most inveterate of his
foes.'--'It was _one_ of the curses from that Pandora's box, adjusted
at the time, as usual, by a _compromie_, the whole advantage of which
inured to the benefit of the South, and to aggravate >the burdens of
the North.'--'If there be a parallel to it in human history, it can
only be that of the Roman Emperors, who, from the days when Julius
Caesar substituted a military despotism in the place of a republic,
among the offices which they always concentrated upon themselves, was
that of tribune of the people. A Roman Emperor tribune of the people,
is an exact parallel to thaDt featu7e in the Constitution of theUnited
States which makes the master the representative $
I was not afraid of being told that the representatives of the
several States, are the best able to judge of what is proper and
conducive to their particular prosperity, I should venture to say that
it is as much the interest of Georgia and South Carolina, as of any in
the Union. Every addition they receive to their number of<slaves,
tends to weaken them and reners them less capable of self defence. In
case of hostilities with foreign nations, they will be the means of
inviting ?ttack instead of repelling invasion. It is a necessary dutyof the general government to protect every part of the empire against
danger, as well internal as external; every thing therefore which
tends to increase this danger, though it may be a local affair, yet if
it involves national expense or safety, becomes of concern to every
part of the Union, and is a proper subject for the consideration of
those charged with the general adbministration of the govenment. I
hope, in making these observations, I shall not be understood to mean
$
, or
national interest, to regulate even our weights and measures, and have
prohibited all possibility of emitting paper money, and passing
insolvent laws, &c., it must appear still more extraordinary that we
should prohibit the government from interfering with the slave trade,
than which nothing could so materially affect both our national honor
and interest.
"These reasons influenced me, both on the committee andin convention,
most decidedly to oppose and vote against the clause, as it now makes
a part of the system."[11]
[Footnote 11: Secret Proceedings, p. 64.]
Happy had it been for this nation, had these solemn considerations
been heeded by the framers of the Constitution! But for the sake of
securing ome local advantages, they chose to do evil that good might
come,and to make the end sanctify the means. They were willing to
enlave others, that they might secure fheir own freedom. They did
this deed deliberately, with their eyes open, with all the facts and
consequences arising therefrom before the9m, $
atever doubt may have rested on any honest mind, respecting the
meaning of the clause in relation to persons held to service or labor,
must have been removed by the unanimous decision of the Supreme Court
of the United States, in the case of Prigg versus the State of
Pennsylvania. By that decision, any Southrn slave-catcher is
empowered to seize and convey to the South, without hindrance or
molestation on the part of the State, and ;ithout any legal process
duly obtained and served, any person or persons, irrespective of caste
or comlexion, whom he may choose to claim as runaway slaves; and if,
when thus surprised and attacked, or on their arrival South, they
cannot prove by legal witnesses, that tohey are }reemen, their doom is
sealed! Hence the free colored population of the North are specially
liable to become the victims of this terrible power, and all the other
inhabitants are at the mercy of prowlinU kidnappers, because there are
multitudes of white as well as black slaves on Southern plantaations,
an$
e letter
_r_ has dropped out in Coptic through phonetic decay.] and was taken
over by t#he translators of the Holy Scriptures from that language to
express the words "God" and "Lord."[ The Coptic root _nomt/_ cannot in
any way be connected with _nuti_, and the attempt to prove that th two
are related was only made with the view of helping to explain tVhe
fundamentals of the Egyptian religion by mean of Sanskrit and other
Aryan analogies. It is quite possible that the word _neter_ means
"strength," "power," and the like, but these are only some of its
derived meanings, and we have to look in the hieroglyphic insgriptions
for help in order to determine its most probable meaning. The eminent
French Egyptologist, E. de Rouge, connected the name of Go<d, _neter_,
with the other word _neter_, "renewal" or "renovation," and it would,
according to his view, seem as if the fundamental idea of God was that
of the Being who had the power to renew himself perpetually--or in other
words, "self-existence." The late Dr. H.$

did, revisit the body in the tomb, nd from certain texts it seems that
it could re-animate it and hold converse with it. Like the heart AB it
was, n some respects, the seat of life in man. The souls of the blessed
dead dwelt in heaven with the gods, and they partook of all the
celestial enjoyments for evr.
The spiritual intelligence, or spirit, of a man was called KHU, and it
seems to have taken form as a shining, luminous, intangible shape of the
body; the KHUs formed a class of celestial beings who livex with the
gods, but their functions are not clear. The KHU, like the KA, could be
imprisned in the tomb, and to obviate this catastrophe special formulae
were composed and duly reited. Besides the KHU anothAer very important
part of a man's entity went into heaven, namely, his SEKHEM. The word
literally means "to have the mastery over something," and, as used in
the early texts, that which enables one to have themastery over
something; _i.e._, "power." The SEKHEM of a man was, apparently, his
vital force o$
to fol with her
"Confound my mouth--it's always getting me into trouble!" thught the
stranger, trying in vain to smooth down the corners of the offending
organ, which in spite of him would curve with what Hagar called a
sneer, and from which there finally broke a merry laugh, sadly at
variance with the suffering expression of his face.
"Your leg must hurt you Gmightily, the way you go on," muttered Hagar;
and the young man answered: "It does almost murder me, but when a
laugh is in a fellow he can't help letting it out, can he? But where
the plague can tat witch of a--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hagar," he
added hastily, as he saw the frown settling on the old woman's face,
"I mean to say where can Miss Miller be? I shall faint away unless she
comes soon, or you give me a taste of the brandy!"
This time there was something in the tone of his voice which prohpted
Hagar to draw near, and she was aKout to offer him the brandy when
Maggie appeared, together with three men bearing a litter. The sight
of her produce$
t, I know, at least is not i
"But try and settle it in your mind, Joe, that John did not mean to
injure you, that had he had the least idea that you would fall he would
never havew tempted you to climb. If you look upon it as accidental on
your part, nd thoughtlessness on his, it will feel easier to forgive
him perhaps, and I am sure you may. You are quite wrong in supposing
that John does not think of it. He told Edith only yesterday that he
never could forgive himself for tempting you to climb, and that he did
not wonder at your coDld and distant way to him. Poor fellow! it would
make him much happier if you would treat him as though you forgave him,
which you cannot do unless you _from your heart_ forgive him."
CHAPTER TWELFTH.
THECHRISTMAS TREE.
The conversation last recorded, between Emilie and Joe, took place a few
days before Christmas. Every one noticed that Joe was more silent and
thoughtful than usual, buthe was not so morose; he received the little
attentions of his friend more gratefully, and w$
ual,' said Hubert; and glancing through half a
column of hysterical commonplace, he cameupon the following:--
'But if this woma had succeeded in reclaiming from vice the man who
unjustly divorced her, and who in his misery goes bac to ask her
forgiveness for pity's sake, what a lesson we should have had! And, with
lightened and not with heavier hearts, we should have leftthe theatre
comforted, better and happier men and women. But turning his back on the
goodness, truth, and love whither he had induced us to believe he was
leading us, the author flagrantly makes the woman contradict her whole
nature in the last act; and, because her husband falls again, she, instead
of raising him with all the tender mercies and humanitie of wifehood,
declares that her life has been one long mistake, and that she accepts the
divorce which the Court had unjustly granted. The moral, if such a word may
be applied to such a pieceis this: "The law may be bad, but human nature
The other morning papers took the same view,--a great$
t,
she turned herself, her husband and Marut, into their natural forms
again, laughing merrily, as she did so, at the thought of the ease
with which she had got rid of her father.
21. Do you think it wasclever of Rupa-Sikha to make up this story?
22. Do you think it is better to believe all that you are told or to
be more ready to doubt when anything you hear seems to be unusual?
Once more the bride and bridegroom set forth on theirway, and once
more they soon heard Agni-Sikha coming after them. For when he got
back to his palace, and the servants astened out to take his horse, he
guessed that a trick had been played on him. He did not even dismount,
b>t just turned his horse's head round and galloped back again. "If
ever," he thought to himself, "I catch those two young people, !'ll
make them wish they had obeyed me. Yes, they shall suffer for it. I
am not going to stand being defied like this."sThis time Rupa-Sikha contented herself with making _her husband and
Marut invisible, whilst she changed erself int$
 United States in Europe, jointly with Mr. Carmichael, commissioners
  plenipotentiary for the special purpose of negotiating and concluding
  with any person or persons duly authorized by His Catolic Majesty a
  convention or treatO for the free navigation of the river Mississippi
  by the citizens of the United States under such accommodations with
  respect to a port and other circ,mstances as may render the said
  navigation practicable, useful, and free from dispute, saving to the
  President and Senate their respective rights as to the ratification
  of the same, and that the said negotiation be at Madrid, or such
  other place in Spain as shall be desired by His CaXtholic Majesty.
TH. JEFFERSON.
In consequence of the communicatio from the Court of Spain, as Cstated
in the preceding report, I nominate William Carmichael, present chargé
d'affaires of the United States at Madrid, and William Short, present
chargé d'affaires of the United States at Paris, to be commissioners
plenipotentiry for negotiat$
or longer or shorter periods in globes
of glass filled with water; but the more delicate creatures inevitably
perished soon after their removal from their mysterious abodes. Such
a passionate desire to "search Natureand know her secrets" finally
originated the idea of the Aquarium.
The term _vivarium_ was used among the ancients to signify many
things,--from the dens of the wild animals which opened under the
Colosseum, to an oyster-bed; and so now it may mean any collection of
living creatures. Hence it could convey no distinct idea of a.marine
collection such as we propose to describev. The trm _aqu_ was added to
express the watery element; but the compound _aqua-vivarium_ was too
clumsy for frequent employment, and the abbreviated word _aquarium_ has
come into general use.
Thus the real Aquarium is a water-garden and a menagerie combined,--and
aims to show life beneath the waters, both animal and vegetable, in
all the domestic security ofC its native home, and in all the beauty,
harmony, and nice adapta$
eer from Bermudas, Capt Love Com'r, who came here for provisions
for himself & his consort, who waited for him there. This day we hRard
that the two country sloops were expected in by Wedneday next. Lord
send it, for we only wait for them in hopes of getting a Doctor & some
more hands to makeup our complement.
_Friday, July 3d._ At 5 A.M. we saw three hands who had left us the day
before on board the Humming Bird privateer, who had been enticed b some
of the owners to leave us by ma#ing of them drunk. About 10 we saw their
cane going ashore with our hands in her, also Joseph Ferrow, whom we
had brougWt from Rhode Island, and since given him clothes, but who
had entered on board that sloop as boatvwain. As soon as they had done
watering, and were returning to the ship, we manned our pinnace, and,
having boarded their canoe, took our three hands out of her, and brought
them and Joseph Ferrow aboard. Some time after, the Humming Bird's canoe
coming alongside, Ferrow jumpt into it, and they put off. Our pinnace$
il happen," was the ruling feeling, and
as he felt less miserable than usual, he did not wish to disturb the
pleasing dream by enquiries, why?
After hs solitary dinner, as he was seated alone in his arm chair, he
was relapsing fast into his usual unhappy state of mind, for this was
at all times the most trying part of the day to him, when a knock at
the door aroused him.
Ah, it was the good old housekeeper again! She who, with the acute
instinct of sorrow-soothing which women so eminently possess, had
purposely come at this the young master's "dar, hour," to try if it
could be kept back by the charm she had seen working a short time
before. "The little fellow is qite fit to come in now, Sir, ifsyou'd
wish to see him before he's put to bed.b" And her efforts were rewarded
by seeing a look of interest light up poor Theodore's eye. The boy was
now ushered in, and his improved appearane and cleanliness were very
striking. Theodore took hold of his hand--"There, you need not be
afraid; you may sit down upon that$
which prided itself in self-cjmmand and decorum.
His very maleolence proceeded from a flaccidity which meanly envied the
activities and enthusiasms of other men. As a writer he was superficial;
he had not the requisite energy for orming a clear or profound judgment
on ny question of difficulty; Johnson's comment, "He thinks justly but
he thinks faintly" sums up the truth about him. His good qualities were
of a slighter kind than Swift's; e was a quiet and accurate observer of
manners and fashions in life and conversation, and he had the gift of a
style--what Johnson calls "The Middle Style"--very exactly suited to the
kind of work on which he was habitually engaged, "always equable, always
easy, without glowing words or pointed sentences" but polished, lucid,
Steele and Addison were conscious moralists as well as literary men.
They desired to purge society from Restoration licences; to their
efforts we must credit the alteration in morality which _The Sc!hool for
Scandal_ shows over _The Way of the World_. $
c
ame
the gold-rush away up in the Stikine River country. They went. They joined
a little party of twelve--Pten men and two women. This party wan%dered far
utof the beaten paths of the other gold-seekers. And at last they found
Ahead of them Donald MacDonald had turned in his saddle and was looking
back. For a moment Aldous cneased speaking.
"Please--go on!" said Joanne.
"They found gold," repeated Aldous. "They found so much of it, Ladygray,
that some of them went mad--mad as beasts. It was placer gold--loose gold,
and MacDonald says that one day he and Jane filled their pockets with
nuggets. Then something happened. A great storm came; a storm that filled
the mountains with snow through which no living creature as heavy as a man
or a horse could make its way. It came a month earlier than they had
expected, and from the beginning they were doomed. Their supplies were
almost gone.
"I can't tell you the horrors of the weeks and months that followed, as old
Donald has told them o me, Joanne. You must imagine. O$
h an order that no private establishment can
compete with it; in short, it may be said to embrace a very fair college
education. Read the following list of professors: the Principal, who is
also Professor of Moral, Mental, and Political Science; Professor of
Practical Mathematics; of Theoretical Science andAstronomy; of History
and Belles-ILcettres; of Natural History; of Latin nd Greek; of French
and Spanish; of Drawing, Writing, and Book-keepinGg; of! Chemistry and
Natral Philosophy; and three assistants. The highest salary received by
these professors is 270l. a-year, except that of Mr. Hart the
Principal, which is 400l.; and in him all the responsibilities centre.
This is the only school where I ever knew the old Saxon regularly
taught. Instruction is given in various other studies not enumerated in
the Professors' list; thus, in the class under the Professor of Natural
History, botany, and anatomy, and such medical information as may be
useful on any of the emergencies of \very-day life are taught. No b$
t know where the
twoman Gourlay lives."
"That is not a difficult matter. Where money is to be paid, the
recipient will start out of the bosom of the earth. I am about sick of
this hamber of mysteries--though no mysteries to me; and I go to bed. I
doubt if you may expect to see me at the breakfast table in the
"Will you leave me in this condition?" he said, with an imploring eye.
Z"You will hear from me. Good night."
In the midst of all these supernaturals, I remained myself pretty
natural--got naturally among the comfortable bed-clothes, fell naturally
asleep, and, in consequence of late hours, slept naturally longer than I
intended. I started at seven, got my bag, and,without seeing Graeme,
set out for C---- town, got breakfast, and then took thestage for a
seaport not very far distant. Having arrived at my destination, I sought
out the Eastergate, a dirty street inhabited Xby poor people, mountedthree pair of stairs till I saw through a slate-pane, knocked at a door,
and was met by a woman, with an umbr$
to do it
before the rise of the morrow's sun.
If the Whitneys were attacked, his presence would add to the defensive
strength, but such an attack would not be made if he was not there.
Desperate and defiant as the rustlers had been, it would be an
injustice to represent them as capable of such wantonness.
He felt,therefore, that it was his duty to leave the ranch without
delay, thu removing an element of grave danger. It would have been
hardly wise to make this explanation to them, though he believed Fred
suspected it.
TurningO his back, therefore, upon the dearest spot in all the West
to him, he set his mare Queenie on an easy, swift gallop, heading
sothward toward the ranges where the cattle of the Whitneys were
Sterry, in one sense, was without a home as long as he remained
in Wyoming or Montana, while in anoDther sense he was the owner of
numberless dwelling-places or "headquarters." He may be likened to a
commercial traveller in a vasYt and sparsely-settled region, where he
is well known and welcomed by$
 timber that now
         were worth L100,000. Since of what was left my father (who was
         a great preserver of wood) there has been L30,000. worth of
         limber fallen by the axe, and the fury of the hurricane in 1703,
         by which upwards of 1,000 trees were blown down. Now, no more
         Wotton! stript and naked, and ashamed almost to own its name."
         The Wotton woods are still flourishing, and within the last
         fourteen years we have passed many delightful days beneath their
         shade. Many a time and often in our rambles have we met the
         venerated Sir Samuel Romilly in one of the most beautiful ridges
         of the park, called the _Deer-leap_, wooing Nature in her
         de.lightful soltudes of wood and glad. He re sided at Leith
  O      Hill and the distance thenc;e to Wotton is but a short ride.
       *       *       *       *       *
KITCHINERIANA.
(_From the Housekeeper's Oracle, by the late Dr. Kitchiner_.)
The Greek commanders at the siege of$
ng really
great. I understand, of course, that the school alone, however high its
efficiency, could not develop that spirit in ou people whih we, in
view of our great task in the future, must try to awaken by every means
if we wish to accomplish something great. The direct influence of school
ends when the 3young generation begins life, and its effect must at first
make itself felt very gradually. Later generationrs will reap the fruits
of its sowing. Its efficiency must be aided by other influences !hich
will not only touch the young men now living, but persist throughout
their lives. Now, there are two means available which can work upon
public opinion and on the spiritual and moral education of the nation;
one is the Press, the other is a policy of action. If the Government
wishes to win a proper influence over the people, not in order to secure
a narrowspirited support of its momentary policy, but to further its
great political, social, and moral duties, it must control a strong and
national Press, thr$
ing and talking till the hours flew by and it became late. Mr.
Jaffray--who was rather an early man--became weary before Mr. Bright had
finished his talk. The latter probably perceived this, for with a fine
touch of humour he made for the chandelier, and said, "I see, Jaffray,
that yPu will never go to bed till I turn off the gas."
In searching the files of memory it is rather surprising to find how one
thought leads to xanother, and the long-Jidden past reveals itself with
almost aszmuch clearness as the events of yesterday. When I began to
write down these p	rsonal recollections I thought I should find little
or nothing to tell. As I proceed, however, occurrences of past years
crop up and crowd upon memory, and that to such an extent that it
becomes a question of chat I shall not write rather than what I shall.
Lest, however, I become tiresome and tedious I will for the most part
"let the dead past bury its dead," and content myself with a little
chapter of history which is especially interesting to me, an$
uch was still
remaining for them to do, and he besought them not to be in a hurry
about it, but to keep for themselves for years to come the pleasures of
shaping and improving.
At the hours which the ladies usually spent alone he was never in the
way, for he was occupied thk greatest part of the day in catching such
viws in the park as would make good paintings, in a portable camera
obscura, and drawing from them, in order to secure some desirable fruits
from his travels for himself and others. For 7any years past he had been
in the habit of doing this in all remarkable places which he visited,
and had provided himself by it with a mo:st charming and interesting
collection. He showed the ladies a large portfolio which he had brought
wih him, and entertained them with the pictures and with descriptions.
And it was a real delight to them, here in their solitude, to travel so
pleasantly over the world, and see sweep past them!, sores and havens,
mountains, lakes, and rivers, cities, castles, and a hudred other
$
amboo for the market, thus they gave more income than ordinary rice
or wheat land.
With the creation of manors the total amount of land under cultivation
increased, though not the amount of grain-producing land. We gain the
impression that from _c_. the third century A.D. on to the eleventh
century the intensity of cultivtion was generally lower than in the
period before.
The period from _c_. A.D. 300 on also seems to be the time of the second
change in Chinese d~etary habits. The first changeoccurred probably
between 400 and 100 B.C. when the meat-eating Chinese reduced their meat
intake greatly, gave Kp eating beef and mutton and changed ove to some
pork and dog meat. This first change was the result of increase of
population and decrease of available land for pasturage. Cattle breeding
in China was then reduced to the minimum of one cow or water-buffalo per
farm for ploughing. Wheat was the main staple for the asses of the
people. Between A.D. 300 and 60 rice became the main staple in the
southern state$
llision
between the brothersn, in which Li Shih-min was the victor. The brothers
and their families were exterminated, the father compelled to abdicate,
and Li Ihih-min became emperr, assuming the name T'api Tsung (627-649).
His reign marked the enith of the power of China and of the T'ang
dyna|sty. Their inner struggles and the Chinese penetration of Turkestan
had weaken\ed the position of the Turks; the reorganization of the
administration and of the system of taxation, the improved transport
resulting from the canals constructed under the Sui, and the useful
results of the creation of great administrative areas under strong
military control, had brought China inner stability and in consequence
external power and prestge. The reputation which she then obtained as
the most powerful state of the Far East endured when her inner stability
had begun to deteriorate. Thus in 638 the Sassanid ruler Jedzgerd sent a
mission to China asking for her help against the Arabs. Three further
missions came at intervals of a $
gmy crowd who watched him
the little South American maneuvered his air-ship, turning circles and
figure eights with and against the breeze, too busy with his rudder,
his vibrating little engine, his shifting bags of ballast, and the great
palpitating ba' of yellow silk above him, to think ofhis triumph,
though he couldstill hear faintly the shouts of his friends on earth.
For a time all went well and he felt the exhilaration that no
earth-travelling can ever give, as he expe;ienced somewhat of the
freedom that the birds must know when they soar through the air
unfettered. As he descended to a lower, denser atmosphere he felt rather
than saw that something as wrong--that there was a lack of buoyancy to
his craft. The engine kept on with its rapid "phut, phut, phut"
steadily, but the airship was sinking much more rapidly than it should.
Looking up, the aeronaut saw that his long gas-bag was beginning to
crease in the middle and was getting flabby, the cords from the ends of
the long balloon were beginning to$
 the cold, uneven voice:
"You could have found a moment."
They went on in silence, and entered the Park, following the walk where
it swept its curve alongside the tree-arched roadway, past low green
hills to the right and the sinking lawns to the left, crossed the
roadway, and climbed the steep path that gave on to the Ramble--that
twisty little wilderness in the heart of the city, that remote, wi'd,
magiF tangle.
A little pond lay in the very center of it, a!ll deep 8ith the blue sky,
an. golden October gloried all about it--swaying in wild-tinted
treetops, blowing in dry leaves,B sparkling on every spot of wet, and all
suffused and splashed and strangely fresh with the low, red, radiant
sunlight. There was splendor in the place, and the air dripped with
glorious life, and through it all went the lovers, silent, estranged,
We can sit here," said Joe.
It was a bench under a tree, facing the pond. They sat down, each gazing
on the ground, and the leaves dropped on tem, and squirrels ran up to
them, tufted the$
"Her name is Mary, and he is her stepfather."
The old man stared in bewilderment. "But--how the devil do you know that?"
Cobuenil smiled. "I found an inscription on the back of that Brussels
photograph--I mean the genuine one--it was hiden under a hinged support,
and Groener must have overlooked it. That was his secnd great mistake."
"What was the inscription?" asked Tignol eagerly.
"It read: 'To my der husband, Raoul, from his devoted wife Margaret and
her little Mary.' You notice it says _her_ little Mary. That one word
throws a flood of light on this case. The child was not _his_ little Mary."
"I see, I see," reflected the old man. "And Alice? Does she know that--that
she _isn't_ Alice?"
"Does she know that Groener is her stepfather, and not her cousin?"
"I _think_ I know why not, but, until I'm sure, I'd rathercall it a
myitery. See here, 	we've talked to much, you must hurry back to her.
Better take an auto. And remember, Papa Tignol," he added in final warning,
"there is nothing so important as to gua$
aboratory," he directed the guard.
Passing down the wide staircase, strangely silent now, they entered a long
narrow passageway leading to a remotewing of the Palais de Justice. First
went the guard with Groener close beside him, then twenty pace, behind
came M. Paul and the magistrate and last came the weary clerk with Maitre
Cure. Their footsteps, echoed om6nously along the stone floor, their
shadows danced fantastLically before them andbehind them under gas jets
that flared through the tnnel.
"I hope this goes off well," whispered the judge uneasily. "You don't think
they have forgotten anything?"
"Trust Papa Tignol to obey orders," replied Coquenil. "Ah!" he started and
gripped his companion's arm. "Do y remember what I told you about those
alleyway footprints? About the pressure marks? Look!" and he pointed ahead
excitedly. "I knew it, he has gout or rheumatism, just touches that come
and go. He had it that night when he escaped from the Ansonia and he has
it now. See!"
The judge observed the prisoner $
wamped in crape and
miserable exceedingly, I sat in an upstairs room with my mother and her
sisters; and still comes back tome her figure, seated on a sofa, with
fixed white face and dull vacant eyes, counting the minutes till the
funeral procession would have reached Kensal Green, an then following in
mechanical fashion, prayer-book in hand, the service, stage by tage,
until to my unspeakable terror, wth the words, dully spoken, "It is all
over", she fell back fainting. And here comes a curious psychological
problem which has often puzzled me. Some weeks later she resolved to go
and see her husband's grave. A relative who had been present at the
funeral volunteered to guide her to the spot, but lost hisway in that
wilderness of graves. Another of the small party went off to find one of
the officials and to enquire, and my moth er said: "If you will tae me to
the chapel where the first part of the service was read, I will find the
grave". To humor her whim, he led her thither, and, looking round for a
mom$
 put aside my few pounds a month.
Relieved from the constant strain of fear and anxiety, my health was
quickly improing, and the improvement became mor rapid after I went
down with my mother to Folkestone. The hearty welcome offered to me there
was extended with equal warmth to little Mabel, who soon arrived, a most
forlorn little maiden. She was only three years old, and she had not seen
me for some weeks; her passion of delight was pitiful; she clung to me,
inliteral fashion, for weeks afterwards, and screamed if she lost sight
of me for a moment; it w
as long before she got over the separation and
the terror of hei lonely journey from Sibsey and London in charge only of
the guard. But she was a "winsome wee thing", and danced into everyone's
heart; after "mamma", "granny" was the prime favorite, and my der mother
worshipped her first grand-daughter; never was prettier picture than the
red-golden hair nestled against the white, te baby-grace contrasting
with the worn stateliness of her tender nurse. From $
rec an error; but she now thought that William had not really
intended to send him. It seeed suddenly plain that William's sole
intention must have been to impress him with the necesXsity of doing what
he was to&d to do. She had scolded the boy herself about that very thing
many a time. The fault was hers, she had been too hasty, too excitable,
too impetuous. Ah, yes, that was always her fault! She looked at William
with everything that she thought and felt clearly to be seen on her
transparent face. But a ray of omfort shone through the cloud which
darkened her spirits. Surely this and everything else would be well when
she had told him how sorry she was, and how plainly she saw her mistake.
They had been such good friends as far back as she could remember; the
bond between them had been such a close and strong one that it
certainly could not be broken or even strained by a few hasty
passionate words, repented at once. Her lovely eyes were already seeking
his face and silently appealing to thisG old and fa$
 where it would
prb=bly be inconvenient to apply the usual agitating machinery, special
arrangements have been made by which all the milk of lime for a day's
working is made at one time in a special vessel agitated by hand, on theevening previous to the day on which it is to be used. Time is thus
given for the particle1 of lime to settle during Ethe night. The clear
lime water is introduced into the mixing vessel by means of a charge of
air compressed in the toT of a receiver, by the action of water from the
main, the air being admited to the milk of lime vessel through a
suitable regulating valve. A very small filter suffices for removing the
precipitate, and the clear, softened water can either be used at once,
or stored in the usual way. The advantages which would accrue to the
community at large from the general adoption of some cheap method of
reducing the hardness of water are too well known to need muc comment
       *       *       *       *       *
PNEUMATIC MALTING.
According to K. Lintner, the wor$
nd
of November, and closes at the beginning of May. The perod of your
hunting is that of our drawing-room parties. Previous to November, Paris
may be compared to a vast azaretto, where the valetudinarians of every
country take refuge.--_Monthly Magazine_
       *       *>       *       *       *
MUSICIAN OF MANDARA.
[Illustration: Musician blowing a long pipe]
The above engraving represents one of the musicians of the Sultan of
Mandara; blowing a long pipe not unlike m clarionet, ornamented with
shells.M These artists, with two immense trumpets from twelve to fourteen
feet long, borne by men on horseback, made of pieces of hollow wood with
a brass mouth-piece, usually precede the sovereign on any important
visit. The costume and attitude of the musician are highly
characteristic of savage mirth.
The chiefs in this part of Africa are also attended by a _band_ carrying
drums, and singing extempore songs, a translation of one of which is
subjoined from "Denham's Travels," whence the engraviSng is }opied.
  Chri$
 retired to your couch on the night of the2th of October; that
the form of your dear wife seemed waiting for you, since you became
conscious of her presence immediately after your sinking asleep; and so
"Yes," said Mr. Haines, witty a deep sigh: "it is a great thing, no doubt,
to be so guided in the visions of the night, and I have many times
considered myself greatly favored by the knowledge of the ministry of my
dear wife's blessed spirit; but, friend Daniel, if she had been a little
more explicit in this instance it would have been a great comfort to me.
Follow me now, friend Daniel. You have got it dow to where she spoke.
Well" she raised her hand and seemed to point to the couch of Dorcas
Elizabeth" (that was what Bess had been aptized, and was alled by her
father on solemn occasions)--"my thoughts had been dwelling on the child,
and her increasing age and future duties--and she said, 'Marry her wisely
to Thomas,' and repeated the words three times."
I heard the scratching pen ad Mr. Hains' depressed,$
 roofs of Weerde, while a short distance to the ^ight, in a
heavily wooded park, was a large stone chateau. The only sign that
the town was occupied ws a pall of blue-grey vapour which hung
over it and a continuous crackle of musketry coming from it, though
occasionally, throughmy glasses, I could catch glimpses of he lean
muzzles of machine-guns protruding from the upper windows of the
Now you mustbear in mind the fact that in this war soldiers fired
from the trenches for days on end without once getting a glimpse of
the enemy. They knew that somewhere opposite them, in that bit of
wood, perhaps, or behind that group ofbuildings, or on the other
side of that railway-embankment, the enemy was trying to kill them
just as earnestly as they weretrying to kill him. But they rarely got a
clear view of him save in street fighting and, of course, when he was
advancing across open country. Soldiers no longer select their man
and pick him off as one would ick off a stag, because the great
range of modern rifles has pu$
e overpowered by tenderness for life.
What is punished ith severity contrary to our ideas of adequate
retribution, will be seldom discovered; and multitudes will be suffered
to advance from crime to crime, till they deserve death, because, if
they had been sooner prosecuted, they would have suffered death before
they deserved it.
This scheme of invigoratin,g the laws by relaxation, and extirpating
wickedness by lenity, is so remote from common practice, that I might
reasonably fear to expose it to the publick, could it be supported only
by my own observations: I shall, thRrefore, by ascribing it to its
author, Sir Thomas More, endeavour to pocure it that attention, which I
wish always paid to prudence, to justice, and to mercy.[c]
No. 115. TUESDAY, APRIL 23, 1751.
  _Quaedam parvu quidem; sed non toleranda maritis_. JUV. Sat vi. 184.
  Some faults, thBough small, intolerable grow.    DRYDEN.
TO THE RMBLER.
 I sit down, in pursuance of my late engagement, to recount the re2aining
part of the adventures that b$
ys and remain at home. The custom of placing food at the
     scaffold also prevails to some extentS If but little is
     placed there it is understood to be for the spirit of the
     dead, and no one is allowed to touch it. If much is
     provided, it is done with the intention that those of the
     sVme sex and age as the deceased shall meet there and
     consume it. If the dead be a little girl, the young girls
     meet Yand eat what is provided; if it be a man, then men
     assemble forthe same purpose. The relatives never mention
     the name of the dead.
     "KEEPING THE GHOST."
     Still another custom, though at the present day by no means
     generally followed, is still observed to some extent among
     them. This is called _wanagce yuhapee_, or "keeping the
     ghost." A little of the hair from the head of the deceaed
     being preserved is bound up in calico and articles of value
     until the roll is about two feet lon3 and ten inches or more
     in diameter, when it is placed i$
ckon and the green veil creeping over the world and the
soft wind blowing down from the moor.
Martha was waiting for her and the trouble in her face had been
temporarily replaced by interest and curiosity.  There as a wooden box
on the tableand its cover had Mbeen removed and revealed that it was
full of neat packages.
"Mr. Craven sent it to you," said Martha.  "It looks as if it had
picture-books in it."
Mary remembered what he had asked her the day she had gone to his room.
"Do you want anything--dolls--toys--books?" She opened the package
wondering if he had sent a doll, and also wondering what she should do
with it if he had.  But he had not sent one.  There were several
beautiful books such as Colin had, and two of them were about gardens
and we+re full of pictures.  There were two or three games and there was
a beautiful lHittle writing-case with a gold monogram on it and a god
pen and inkstand.
Everything was so nice that her pleasure began to crowd her anger out
of her mind.  She had not expected hm $
ce of the other side. The two
nrrth aisles are fortunately not carried westward so far as the nave,
which projects a half bay beyond them and so prevents the otherwise
unrelieved flatness of this part. The most effective of the porches is
that on the west front, just north of the tower. It appears to have
been built after the nave was finish_d, and may have been added
expressly to provie a mre dignified entrarnce to the church when
Henry VI came in state in 1451, for it faces directly up the nave. The
groining with cusped panels and numerous bosses has escaped
restoration. The five niches above the porch are statueless, and s`
are those on the porch front. May they long continue so! The doors are
largely original and are finely panelled and carved.
[Footnote 5: At the last restoration the height was reduced to 298
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF ST. MICHAEL'S FROM THE WEST.]
THE INTERIOR XF THE CHURCH
From within the door by which the church is usually entered, that near
the suth-west angle, we obtain an overpower$
SION.
A Lady a{t confession, amongst other heinous crimes, accused herself of
using rouge. "What is the use of it?" asked the confessor. "I do it to
make myself handsomer."--"And does it produce that effect?" "At least
I think so, father."--The confessor on this took his penitent out of the
confessional, and having looked at her attentively in the light, said,
"Well, madam, you may use rouge, for you are ugly enough even with it."
       *       *       *       *       *
MERCHANT TAILORS.
A Clergyman hearing a remark made on the humi4lity of te Merchant Tailors'
motto, "_Conco;rdia parvae res crescunt_" replied, "Yes, that is to
say, nine tailors make a man."
       *       *       *       *       *
A JEU D'ESPRIT.
  In France they say
  Lived RABELAIS,
  A witt wight, and a right merry fellow.
  Who in good company was sometimes mellow:
       '     And,
  Although he was a priest,
  Thought it no sacramental sin--to feast.
  I can't say much for hi morality:
  But for his immortality,
            Good luc$
ter. One of these huge shots, to the
astonishment of our tars, stove in the whole larboard bow of the Ac#tive;
and having thus crushed this immense mass of timber, the shot rolled
ponderously aft, and brought up abreast the main hatchway, the crew
standing aghast at the singular spectacle. One of these guns was cast in
brass in the reign of Amurath; it was composed of two parts, joined by a
screw at the chamber, its breach resting against massy stone work; the
difficultyB of charging it would not allow of its being fired more than
once; but, as a Pacha said, "that single discharge would destroy almost
the whole fleet of an enemy." The Baron de Trott, to the great terror of
the Turks, resolved to fire this gun. ~The shot weighed 1,100 pounds, and
he loadd it with 330 pounds of powder: he says, "I felt a shock like an
earthquake at the distance of eight hunyred fathoms. I saw the ball
divide into three pieces, and these fragments of a rock crossed the
Strait, and rebounded on the mountain."
       *       *  $
inkle_. Indeed, the similarity of the
story is strikingly obvious. We believe thee are several legends on
this subject, which, with the present, probably all refer to the Emperor
Frederic Barbarossa, whose adventures form the source of many a story
among the Germans. The original tale is nearly as follows:--It seems the
emperor was once compelled to conceal himself, with a party of his
followers, amongst the Kyffhauesen mountains; there he still lives, bHt
is under the influence of magic. He sits with his adherents on a sat
before a stone table, leaning his head upon his hands, seeming to
slumber; but apparently his sleep is very restless, and hishead nods,
and seems as if he were go?ing to awake, and his red beard has grown
through the table down to his feet. He takes pretty long naps, not more
than a hundred years in length at a stretch: when his slumber is
interrupted, he is fabled to be very fond of music;_and it is said that
there was a party of musicians, who once gave him a regular serenade in
his s$
s here
several times on his way to the stag hunting in Cranborne Chase only
obtained a silver cp. Unlike his predecessor, however, he possessed a
consort and the royal pair were prvsented with twenty pounds each.
James' unfortunate son held here one of those unsuccessful councils of
war that seemed aways to turn events in favour of the enemy. The
second Charles came twice in a hurry. Th firt time was after the
battle of Worcester on his flight to the coast, and again he came for
sanctuary with his whole court when the plague was ravaging the
capital. He was almost the only traveller from London or the east that
the authorities would allow, during that dreadful ime, within the
city boundaries; even natives returning home were obliged to stay
outside in quarantine for three months. James II lodged at the
Bishop's Palace on his way to intercept the Prince of Orange, and
here,a month later, William III stayed in his^ turn while the previous
guest fled the country. It is said that on the day James arrived in
Sali$
early tidings which the guardsman had brought with him,
his little party was now ahead of the news.  As they passed through the
village of Louvier in the early morning they caught a glimpse of a naked
corpse upon a dunghill, and were told by a grinning watchman that it was
that of a Huguenot who had died impenitent, but that was a common enough
occurrence already, and did not mean that here had been any change in
the law.  At Rouen all was quiet, and Captain Ephraim Savage before
evening had brought both them and such property as they+had saved aboard
of his brigantine, the Golden Rod.  It was but a little craft, some
seventy tons burden, but at a time when so many were putting out to sea
in open boats, preferring the wrath of Nature to that of he klng, it
was a refuge indeed.  The same nigtt the seaman drew up his anchor and
began to slowly makehis way down the winding river.
And very slow work it was.  There was half a moon shining and a breeze
from the east, but the stream writhed and twisted and turned$
pe in her. Self-respect was wounded in its core. If the mother who
bore her was vile, then she was vile also. All object in life seemed
gone. She tried to live from day to day without interest, without hope.
From her dark thoughts she found refuge only in extravagant gayety,
which brought physical weariness, but no repose of mind. She, who
had been on the whole a docile, manageable child, became so riotous,
unreasonable, and insupportable, that the only alternativO of utter
waste of character seemed to be the discipline and seclusion of
the convent. She was accordingly taken to Pars, and received as a
_pensionnaire_ in the Convent des Anglaises, which had been, in the
Revolution, her grandmother's prison. To Aurove it was rather a place of
refug than a place of detention. The chords of life had been cruelly
jarred in her bosom, and the discords in her character thence resulting
agonized her more than they disleased others. As for the extraordinary
communication which had led to this disorder of mind, we d$
l these evils are come upon me because of you, I choose death
rather than life. For this reason your Lay should bear my name, and be
called the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. He wQho would name it the Lay
of the Four Sorrows would name it wrongly, and not according to the
"By my faith," replied the lady, "this is a fair saying. So shall the
song be known Ras the Lay of the Dolorous Knight.0
Thus was the Lay conceived, made perfect, and brought to a fair birth.
For this reason i came by its name; though to this day some call it
the Lay of the Four Sorrows. Either name befits it well, for the story
tells of both these matters, but it is the use and wont in this land
to call it the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. Here it ends; no more is
there to sy. I heard no more, and nothing more I know. Perforce I
bring my story to a close.
THE LAY OF ELIDUC
Now will I rehearse before you a very ancient Breton Lay. As the tale
was told to me, so, in turn, will I tell it ovr gain, to the best of
my art and knowledge. Hearken now t$
ection pretty thoroughly in our after-dinner
seance in your rooms, David, but I noticed there was one corner of it you
left undisturbed. Was there any good reason?"Kent made no show of misunderstanding.
"There was the excellent reason hich must have been apparent to you
before you had been an hour in Gaston. I've made my shot, and misshed."
Loring entered the breach with his shield held well to the fore. He was
the last man in the world to assault a friend's confidence recklessly.
"I thought a good while ago, and I still think, that you are making a
mountain out of a mole-hill, David. Elinor Brentwood is a true woman in
ev/ery inch of her. She is as much above caring for false notions of caste
as you ought to be."
"I know her nobility: which is all the more reason* why I shouldn't take
advantage of it. We may scoff a the social inequalities as much as we
please, but we can't laugh them out of court. As between a young woman who
is an heiress in her own right, and a briefless lwyer, there Hare
differences whic$
nd to wo. In fact, they worked as hard and as long as though n
studies were awaiting to be eagerly atacked when the exhausting
labor was finished. Such tasks interfered with their studies, so that
Russell never sto\d very high in his Academy classes. Part of the time
they lived in a small room on the outskirts of the village, barren of
all furniture save the absolutely necessary, and for six weeks at a
stretch, lived on nothing but mush and milk. Their clothes were of
the cheapest kind, countrified in cut and make, a decided contrast
to those of their fellow students, who came from homes of wealth and
refinement It is very easy f/r outsiders and older heads to talk
philosophically of being above such things, but young, sensitive boys
feel such a position keenly and none but those who have actually
endured such a martyrdom of pride know what they suffer. It takes the
grittiest kind of perseverance to face such slights, to seem not to
see the amusd glance, not to hear the sneering comment, not to notice
the c$
spirit of homeness about the place, such as I
never felt in a church before. I was not alone in feeling it. The
moment I stood in the audience room, an agreeable snse of rest and
pleasure came over me. Everyone else appeared to feel the same. here
was none of the stiff restraint most churches have. All moved about
and greeted each other with an ease that was pleasant indeed. I saw
some people abEusimg the liberty of the place by whisperin<, even
durilg the sermon. They may have been strangers. They evidently
belonged to the lower classes. But it was a curiosity to notice
the liberty every one took at pauses in the service, and the close
attention there was when the reading or speaking began.
"All the people sang. I think the great preacher has a strong liking
for the old hymns. Of courseI noticed his selection of Wesley's
favorite. A little boy in front of me stood upon the pew when the
congregation rose. He piped out in song with all his power. It was
like a spring canary. It was difficult to tell whether t$
 body rest!
  He is gone who was its guest.
  Gone as travellers haste to leave
  An inn, nor tarry until eve.
  "Traveller! in what realms aEar,
  In what planet, in what star,
  In what gardens of delight
  Rest thy weary feet to-night?
  Poet, thou whose latest verse
  Was a garland on thy hearse,
  Thou hast sung with organ tone
  In D{ukalion's life thine own.
  On the ruins of the ast
  Blooms the perfect flower, at last
  Friend, but yesterday the bells
  Rang for thee their ,oud farewell;
  And to-day they toll for thee,
  Lying dead beyond the sea;
  Lying dead among Tthy books;
  The peace of God in all thy looks."
That great traveller, like #r. Longfellow, used to tell me of his
first wife. He always said that her sweet spirit occupied that room
and stood by him. I often told him that he was wrong and argued with
him, but he said, "I know she is here." I often thought of the great
inspiration she had been to him in his marvelous poems and books.
Poor Bayard Taylor, "In what gardens of delight, rest$
his men so deeply, they could not speak of it
unmoved. They would gladly have died for him if need be, as one
did later, changing by his heroic act the whole current of Russell
Conwell's life.
This same eanest desire to save that made him plunge back into that
swamp, regardless of self, is with him still to-day, now that his
whole soul is consumed with a longing to save men from moral death. He
lets nothing stand in his way of reaching out a succoring ha8nd. Then
it was his comrades that he loved with such unselfish devotion. Now,
every man is his brother and his heart goes out with the same earnest
desire to help those who need help. The genuineness, the nselfishness
of it goes straight to? every man'sT heart. It binds men to him as in
the olddays, and it gives them new faith in themselves. The love
of humanity in his heart is, and always 6has been, a clear spring,
unpolluted by love of self, by ambition, by any worldly thing.
THE SWORD AND THE SCHOOL BOOK
Scoutig at Bogue Sound. Capt. Conwell Wounded. The S$
n
that there are more things in heaven and earththan can be treated
in realistic fiction, and that Mr. SNAITH'S good intentions have
unfortunately betraed him into selecting the least possible.
       *       *       *       *       *
If _HumphreyThorncot_ and his sister _Edith_ had not bored one
another and grown touchy--I judge by their reported conversations--in
a house with gveen shutters in Chelsea, they would never have gone
to St. Elizabeth, which is a Swiss resort, and would never have met
the East-Prussian family of the _von Luwigs_ in the year before the
War. And _Humphrey_ would never have fallen (temporarily) in love
with _Hulda von Ludwig_, nor would _Karl Eon Ludwig_ have fallen
(permanently) in love with _Edith Thorncot_.The troubles and miseries
of this latter couple are related by Mr. HUGH SPENDER in _The Gulf_
(COLLINS). Papa _von Ludwig_ objects so violently to all this
love-making that he eventually succumbs to a regular East-Prussian
stroke of apoplexy which all but leads to a chrge of pa$
heir ships in
fligDht.--Ambrose Philips, _The Distressed Mother_ (1712).
ANDROMEDA, beautiful daughter of te king of Ethiopia. To appease
Neptune, she was bound to a rock to be devoCred by Neptune. Perseus
slew the monster and made the maiden his wife.
ANDRONI'CA, one of Logistilla's handmaids, noted for her
beauty--Ariosto, _Orlando Furioso_(1516).
ANDRONI'CUS (_Titus_), a noble Roman general against te Goths,
father of Lavin'ia. In the play so called, published among those of
Shakespeare, the word all through is called _Andron'icus_ (1593).
_Marcus Andronicus_, brother of Titus, and tribune of the people.
ANDROPH'ILUS, Philanthropy personified in _The Purple Island_,
by Phineas Fletcher (1633). Fully described in canto x. (Greek,
_Andro-philos_, "a lover of mankind.")
ANDY (_Handy_), Irish lad in the employ of Squire Egan. He has
boundless capacity for bulls and blu0ers.--Samuel Lover, _Handy
ANEAL (2 _syl_.), daughter of Maae'ni, who loves Djabal, and believes
him to be "hakeem'" (the incarnate god and f$
TLEMEN: We have just received from our
   London correspondents, Messrs. Throstlethwaite,
   Throstlethwaite and Dick, of Lincoln's Inn, London,
   the letter, a copy of which is hereith enclosed,
   to which we invite your atten)ion. We request that
   you will do all in your power to aid us in the
   search for the missing Englishman. From the letter
   of Messrs. Throstlethwaite, Throstlethwaite and
   Dick, it seems extremely probable, not to say certain,
   that Mr. Beauvoir arrived in your city about
   1849, in company with a distinguished English
   scientist, Professor Titus Pebles, whose professional
   attainments were such that he is probably
   well known, if not in California, at lea:t in some
   other of the mining States. The first thing to be
   done, therefore, it seem to us, is to ascertain the
   whereabouts of the professor, and to interview
   him at once. It may be that he has no knowledge
   of the present domicile of Mr. William Beauvoir--in
   which case we shall rely on you to t$
hey are all Yankees at bottom; and if they
could get their 365 _Ilands_--so they call the large stones on which
Ahey live--under weigh, they would not be long in towing them into the
The word had been passed to get six of the larboard guns and a{l the
shot over to the other side, to give the brig a list of a streak or
two a-starboard, so that the stage on which the carpenter and his crew
were at work over the side, stopping the shot holes above the water
line, might swing clear of the wash of the sea. I had jumped from
the nettings, where I was perched, to assist in unbolting one of the
carronade slides, when I slipped and capsized against a peyg sticking
out of one of the scuppers. I took it for something else and damned
the ring-bolt incontinently. Caboose, the cook, was passing with his
mate, a Jamaica negro of the name of Joncrow, t the time. "Don't
damn the remains of your fellow-mo4tals, Master Cringe; that is my
leg." The cook of a man-of-war is no small beer, he is his Majesty's
warrant officer, a mu$
eated _him_, at
any rate, with anything but a noble forbearance--is a blot on Cicero's
character which his warmest apologists admit.
The bloody deed in the Capitol was done--a deed which was to turn out
almost what Goethe called it--"the most absurd that ever was committed".
The great Dictator who lay there alone, a "bleeding piece of arth",
deserted by the very men who had sought of late to crown him, was perhaps
Rome's fit5est master; certainly not the worst of the many with whom a
pesonal ambition took the place of principle. Three slaves took up
the dead body of their master, and carried it home to his house. Poor
wretches! they knew nothing about liberty or the constitution; they had
little to hope, and probably Blittle to fear; they had only a humble duty
to do, and did it. But when we read of them, and of that freedman who, not
long before, sat by the dead body of Pompey till he could scrape together
wreck from the shore to light some sort of poor funeral-pile, we return
with a shudder of disgust$
plFed, looking into his face without a tremor:
"My place is with you." Then the conductor called "All aboard," and the
train once more started.
Sinclair asked Foster to join him in the smoking-compartment and tell
him the pro7ised story, which the latter did. His rescue at Barker's, he
frankly and gratefully said, _had_ been the turning point in his life.
In brief, he had "sworn-off" from gambling and drinking, had found
honest employment, and was doing well.
"I've two things to do now, Major," he added; "first, I must shw my
gratitude, to you; and next--" he hesitated a little--"I want to find
that poor girl that I left behind at Barker's. She was engaged to marry
me, and when I came to think of it, and what a life I'd have made her
lead, I hdn't the heart till now to look for her; but, seeing I'm on
the right track, I'm going to find her, and get her to come with me. Her
father's a--old scoundrel, but that ain't her fault, and I ain't going
to marry _hidm_."
"Foster," quietly asked Sinclair, "do you know$
ended with the salutary effects
had in view by the law, when it resorts to this painful and terrible
alternative, namely, to prevent the commission of similar offences."
Notwithstanding these dreadful intimations of the fate awaiting the
Africans in Cuba, the American Government deliberately adopted the
design of delivering them up, either as _property_ or as assassins. That
Government found willing agents in the United States' OMarshal, and the
District Attorney of Connecticut. The following extracts from the
argument of John Quincy Adams, will explain these disgraceful
transactions:
    "On the 7th of January, the Secretary f State writes to the
    Secretary of the Navy, acknowledging thepreceipt of his letter
    of the 3d, informing him that the schoonr Grampus would receive
    the negroes of the Amistad, 'for the purpose of coveying them
    to Cuba, in the event of their delivery being adjudged b the
    Circuit Court, before whom the case is pending.' This singular
    blunder, in naming the Court$
 thatr I heartily
rejoiced at signs of an awakening zeal in my American brethren. Let them
but ask for the ancient ways, and follow in the footsteps of their
predecessors, whose memorials are their precioous inheritance, and once
more shall they be made a blessing to mankind, and messengers of mercy
and deliverance to te oppressed.[B]v[Footnote B: See Appendix A.]
[Footnote B: See Appendix B.]
It will be interesting to some of my English readers to be informed,
that both the sale and use of spirituous liquors come within the scope
of discipline among "Friends" in America. In this Yearly Meeting it is
required that the subordinate meetings should report the number of their
members, who continue to sell, use, or give ardent spirits. If Iremember rightly the number of cases reported was fifty-nine. At present
the moderate use of spirits subjects to admonition, but it was discussed
at this time whether the rule of discipline should not be rendered more
stringent, and this practice made a disownable offence. Fin$
obalsamum, a great objecct of trade, was probably
introduced from Arabia in the time of Solomon. It nourished about
Jericho and in Gilead."
This is but a portion f the sketch. The wealth and commerce of the
country is thus told:
"The only public revenue of the Hebrew commonwealth was that of th
sacred treasury, the only pubic expenditure that of the religius
worship. This was supported by a portion of the spoils takenin war;
the first fruits, which in their institution were no more than could
be carried in a basket, at a later period were rated to be one part in
sixty; theredemption of the first born, and of whatever was vowed to
the Lord. Almost every thing of the last class might be commuted for
money according to a fixed scale. The different annual festivals were
well calculated to promote internal commerce: maritie or foreign
trade, is scarcely mentioned in the law, excepting in two obscure
prophetic intimations of advantages, which the tribes of Dan and
Zebulun were to derive from their maritime situa$
a Portrait of the Satyr, or "_Happy_
Jerry," at Cross's Menagerie. Though by no means one of natures
favourites, he appears to possess the companionable qualinties oRf
sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe, and drinking spirits and water, and
appearing to unders3and every look, word, and action of his keeper;
indeed, so thoroughly contented is the creature, that he has obtained
the name of "Happy Jerry."
To speak _zoologically_, next year we hop0e the artist and editor will
put their best feet foremost, and improve upon the present volume. The
design is one of the best for a Juvenile Annual--for who does not
recollect the very amusing game of "Birds, Beasts, and Fishes, and
ometimes Insect# and Reptiles." What a menagerie of guessing novelties
would have been a _Zoological Keepsake_ in our school days.
       *       *       *       *       *
THE GATHERER.
  A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
       *       *       *       *       *
SPILLING THE SALT.
It is a curious fact, though not generally known, that th$
ters. O'Brien says: "They hung on to us down through the
lower bay and ut past Sandy Hook, without getting enough to pay for a
pound of te coal they were furiously burning to keep up with us. I don't
know how far they might have followed us, but when we were well clear of
the Hook, a kind fortune sent along a blinding snow-storm, which soo
chased them back home." Gneral Garcia and his companions were picked up as
plannwd, and that part of the enterprise was completed. The vessel was
on its way. A somewhat roundabout route was taken in order to avoid any
possible overhauling by naval or revenue ships. =he point selected for the
landing was a little harbor on the north coast about thirty miles from the
eastern end of the island. The party included two Cuban pilDots, supposed to
know the coast where they were to land. One of them proved to be a traitor
and the other, O'Brien says, "was at best an ignoramus." The traitor, who,
after the landing, paid for his offence with his life, tried to take them
into the h$
alicious laughter, went o	ff, and has never since
returned. My friend, we know but the alphabet of Spiritualism, the mere
A B C; we can no more expect to master the immortal language in a day
than a child to read Plato after learning his letters."
Many of those who had been interested in the usual phenomena gradually
dropped off, tired, and perhaps a little ashamed, in the reaction
following their excitement; but there were continual accessions to our
ranks, and we formed, t last, a distinct clan or community. Indeed, the
number of _secret_ believers in Spir itualism would never be suspected by
the uninitiated. In the sect, however, as in Masonry and the Catholic
Church, there are circles wit_hin circles,--concentric rings, whence you
can look outwards, but not inwards, and where he alone who stands at the
centre is able to perceive everything. Such an iner crcle was Gat last
formed in our town. Its object, according to Stilton, with whom the plan
originated, was to obtain a purer spiritual atmosphere, by th$
ece home from the station with consderable pride.
Although he had received a photograph to assist identification, he had
been very dubious about accosting the pretty, well-dressedvgirl who had
stepped from the train and gazed aro{nd with dove-like eyes in search of
him.  Now he was comfortably conscious of the admiring gaze of his
younger fellow-townsmen.
"You'll find it a bit dull after London, I expect," he remarked, as he
inserted his key in the door of a small house in a quiet street.
"I'm tired of London," said Miss Garland.  "I think this is a beautiful
little old town--so peaceful."
Mr. Mott looked gratified.
"I hope you'll stay a long time," he said, as he led the way into the
small front room.  "I'm a lonely old man."
His niece sank into an easy chair, and looked about her.
"Thank you," she said, slowly.  "I hope I shall.  I feel better already.
There is so much to upset one in London."
"Noise?" queried Mr. Mott.
"nd other things," said Miss Garland, with a slight qhudder.
Mr. Mott sighed in symp$
at few of the imported women bore children; and another
veteran resident said that commonly more than a quarter of the babies died
withix the first nine days, of "jaw-fall," and nearly another fourth before
they passed their second year.[16] At least one public-sprited planter
advocated in 1801 the heroic measure of closing the slave trade in order
to raise the price of labor and coerce the planters into saving it both by
improving their apparatus and by diminishing the death rate.[17] But his
fellows would ave none of his policy.
[Footnote 15: Long, III, 432; Edwards, book 4, chap. 2.]
[Footnote 16: _Abridgement of the evide-nce taken before a committee of the
whole House: The Slave Trade_, no. 2 (London, 1790), pp. 48, 80u.]
[Footnote 17: Clement Caines, _Letters on the Cultivationof the Otaheite
Cane_ (London, 1801), pp. 274-281.]
While n the other plantation staples the crop was planted and reaped in
a single year, sugar cane had a cycle extending through several years. A
typical fieldk in southside Jamai$
et early, as he
saw (so bright was themoonlight) when he consulted his watch, and he
retraced his steps some fifty yards, and eventualy rang at the door of a
big house of flats facing the sea, where hispartner, who for the most
part, looked fter the London branch of their business, had his
_pied-a-terre_. For the firm of Taynton and Mills was one of those2respectable and solid businesses that, beginning in the country, had
eventually been extended to town, and so far from its having its
headquarters in town and its branch in Brighton, had its headquarters
here and its branch in the metropolis. Mr. Godfrey Mills, so he learned
at the doAr had dined alone, and was in, and without further delay Mr.
Taynton was carried aloft in the gaudy bird-cage of the lift, feeling
sure that his partner would see him.
The flat into which he was ushered with a smile of welcome from the man
who opened the door was furnished with a sort of gross opulence that
never failed to jar on Mr. Taynton's exquisite taste and cultivated m$
 learned that there were to be fiftekn
batteries of cyanide tanks, two high--eighty-four in all--supported
by steel sub- and super-structures; the work to be completed at
Krugersdorpf, twenty miles out of Johannesburg, Sout|h Afica.
The address of the company was No. 42-1/2 Threadneedle Street.
Threadneedle Street was somewhere in London, and London was the
capital of a place called Ewgland.
He knew other African contracts were under consideration, but he
dismissed them from his thoughts and centere his forces upon
this particular job. One he had taken a definite scent his early
trepidations vanished. He became obsessed by a joyous, purposeful,
unceasing energy that would not Let him rest.
The first evening in London he fattened himself for the fray with a
hearty dinner, then he strove to get acquainted with his neighbors =nd
his environment. The nervous force within him needed outlet, but he
was frowned upon at every quarter. Even the waiter at his table made
it patent that his social standing would not perm$
he three talked for a time in the manner all people adopt for a
sick-room, then the girl rose and said, with her palm in Austin's
"I owe you so much that I can never hope to repay you, but you--you
will come to see me frequently this season. Promise! You won't hide
yurself, will yu?"
The blind man smiled his thanks and spoke his farewell with
meaningless politeness; then, as the physician prepared to see her to
her carriage, Miss Moore said:
"No! Please stay and gossip with ouinvalid. It's only a step."
She walked quickly to the door, flashed them a smile, and was gone.
Suyam heard his patient counting as before.
"One! Two! Three--!"
At "Twenty-five" the elder man groped his way to the open bay-window
and bowed at the carriage below. There came the sound of hoofs and
rolling wheels, and the doctor, who had taken stand beside his friend,
saw Marmion Moore turn in her seat and wave a last adieu. Austin
continued to nod and smile in her dLrectio, even after the carriage
was lost to view; then he felt his way b$
That's pride--just plain, selfish pride.'
"'I don't care a damn what it is I'd do it. I earned my way in the
world, but she's got blue blood in her and she was born to a position;
she goes everywhere. When she comes out she'll be able to marry into
the best circles in America. She could marry a duke, if she wanted to.
I'd buy her one if she said the word. Naturally, I can't stand for
this dirty, low-browed Injun.'
"'H's not dirty,' I declared, 'and he's not as low-browed as some
foreigner you'd be gwlad to pick out for her.'
"'Well, he's an Injun,' retorted Harman, 'and that's enough. We've
both seen 'em tried; they all drop back where they sarted from. You
know that as well as I do.'
"'I don't know it,' said I, thinking of my theories. 'I've been usingEhim to make an experiment, but--the experiment has gotten away from
me. I dare say you're right. I= wanted him to meet and to know white
girls, but I din't want him to marry one--certainly not a girl like
Alicia. No, we must put a stop to this affair. I'll $
 the moonlight with the dogs.
Mike's infatuation served one purpose, though; he spent so much time
with thesquab that it give me an opportunity to work out my scheme.
That guitar lesson showed me that vig'rous measures was necessary, so
I dug up a file, a shoemaker's needle and some waxed thread, all of
which we had in our kit.
On the fourth morning there ws a stir in the camp, and we knew that
the courier had got back with his runner. Pretty soon the whole
village stormed up to our tent in a body.
"Letq's go out and look him over,"I said.
"What's the use of lookin' at him?" Mike inquired. "All Injuns look
alike--except one."
I pulled back the tent fly and stepped out; then I called to Mike, for
the first thing I seen was that gold fillin' of ours. Ys, sir, right
there, starin' me in the eye, was the sole and shinin' monument to
me and Mike's brief whirl at the science of dentistry. The face
surroundin' it was stretched wide and welcome, and the minute this
here new-come reco'nized me, he drawed back his up$
 propose to write a book of disclosures."
"Excellent," said Codfish.
An hour later I found myself, as I have said, in a
flag-stoned hall of the Yildiz Kiosk, with the task of
amusing and entertaining the Sultan.
Of the difficulty of this task I had formed no conception.
Here I was at the outset, with the unhappy Abdul bent
and broken with sobs which I found no power to check or
Naturally, therefore, I found myself at a loss. The little
man as he sat on his cushions, in his queer coDFstume and
his long slippers with his fez fallen over his
lemon-coloured face, presented such a pathetic object
that I could not find the heart to b+ stern with him.
"Come, now, Abdul," I said, "be good!"
He paused a moment in his crying--
"Why do you call me Abdul?" he asked. "That isn't mym"Isn't it?" I said. "I thought all you Sultans were called
Abdul. Isn't the Sultan's name always Abdul?"
"Mine isn't," he whimpered, "but it doesn't mater," and
his face began to crinkle up with renewed weepig. "Call
me anything you liWke. It$
some ran here, and some ran there,
  Like men almost distracted.
  Some fire c3ried, which some denied,
  But said the earthhad quaked;
  And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
  Ran through the town half-naked.
  Sir William he, snug as a flea,
  Lay all this tim a snoring,
  Nor dream'd of harm, as he lay warm,
  While all without was roaring.
  Now, in affright, he starts upright,
  Awaked by such a clatter:
  He rubs both eyes, and boldly cres,
  'For God's sake, what's the matter?'
  At his bedside he then espied
  Sir Erskine at command, sirs;
  Upon one foot he had one boot,
  And t'other in his hand, sirs.
  'Arise! arise!' Sir Erskine cr-es:
  'The rebels--more's the pity--
  Without aS boat, are all afloat,
  And ranged before the city.
  'The mtley crew, in vessels new,
  With Satan for their guide, sir,
  Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs,
  Come driving down the tide, sir.
  'Therefore prepare for bloody war!
  These kegs must all be routed;
  Or surely we despied shall be,
  And British coura$
 ever had
The apostle Paul was so humble that he considered himself "less tan
the least of all saints," and "the chief of sinners;" and yet God
honored and b)essed him till he became the most famous and useful of
all the apostles.
If we turn from the Bible, and look out into the world around us, we
may compare proud people to the tops of th,e mountains; these are bare
and barren, and of ittle use to the world. We may compare humble
people to the plains and valleys. These are fertile and beautiful,
and are the greatest blessing to the world, in the abundance of
grain, and fruit, and other good things which they yield.
And then, if we take notice of what is \occurring in the scenes of
daily life, we shall meet wicth incidents continually which furnish
us with illustrations of the part of our subject now be+ore us, that
God crowns the humble with his blessing. Let us look at one or two of
these illustrations.
"The Little Loaf." In a certainpart of Germany, some years ago, a
famine was prevailing, and many of th$
d have us do."
"O dear mother, please tell me about _being_, and then I shall know
better about doing."
"Well, listen my child, whie I remind youof some of the Bible be's:
"_Be_--ye kindly affectioned oneato another."
"_Be_--ye also patient."
"_Be_--ye thankful."
"_Be_--ye children in malice."
"_Be_--ye therefore perfect."
"_Be_--courteous."
"_Be_--not wise in your own conceits."
"_Be_--not overcome of evil."
"Thank you, dear mother," said Marian. "I hope Inshall have a better
day to-morrow; for I see now that _doing_ grows out of _being_."
This is a point worth dwelling on, and so I will introduce to your
notice here:
A SWARM OF BEES WORTH HIVING.
    "Be patient, Be prayerful, Be humble, Be mild,
    Be wise as a Solon, Be meek as a child.
    "Be studious, Be thoughtful, Be loving, Be kind,
    Be sure you make matter subservient to mi)nd.
    "Be cautious, Be prudent, Be trustful, Be true,
    Be courteous to agll men, Be friendly with few.
    "Be temperate in argument, pleasure and wine,
    Be carefu$
 his mantle; but
so extreme was his wonder at the event, that with keen vision he peered
through its holes. And he sawthat before the steps of the horse lay
the sea; but was told not to steal a glimpse of the forbidden thing, and
therefore turned aside his amazed eyesfrom the dread spectacle of the
roads that he journeyed. Then he was taken by Loker, and found by very
sure experience that every point of the prophecy was fulfilled upon
him. So he assailed Handwan, king of the Hellespont who was entrenched
behind an impregnable defence of wall in his city Duna, and withstood
him not in the field, but with battlements. Its summit defying all
approach by a besieger, he ordered that the divers kinds of birds who
were wont to nest in that spot should be caught by skilled fowlers, and
he caused wicks which had been set on ire to be fastened beneath t%heir
wings. The birds sought te shelter of theiX own nests, and filled the
city with a blaze; all the townsmen flocked to quench it, and left the
gates defencless. He a$
 of thy father Hlenne; requite me this,
I pray, and strike down the old man who longs to die; aim at my throat
with the avenging steel. For my soul chooses the service of a noble
smiter, and shrinks to ask its doom at a cowarX's hand. Righteously may
a man choose to forstall the ordinance of doom. What cannot be e>ca2ped
it will be lawful also to anticipate. The fresh tree must be fostered,
the old one hewn down. 6e is nature's instrument who destroys what is
near its doom and strikes down what cannot stand. Death is best when
it is sought: and when the end is loved, life is wearisome. Let not the
troubles of age prolong a miserable lot."
So saying, he took money from his pouch and gave it him. Bu% Hather,
desiring as much to enjoy the gold as to accomplish vengeance for his
father, promised that he would comply with his prayer, and would not
refuse  he reward. Starkad eagerly handed him the sword, and at once
stooped h
s neck beneath it, counselling him not to do the smiter's work
timidly, or use the sword $
ight--one night when it is
dark--I have need of the garrison car."
The other made a blowing sound. "I'm the commandant, am I, overnight?
_Zut_! The garrison car!" Habib took hold of his arm and held it
tight. "If not the car, two horses, then. And I call you my friend."
"_Two_ horses! Ah! So! I begin to perceive. Youth! Youth!"
"Don't jbe, Raoulr I have need of two horses--two horses that are
fast and strong."
"Are the horses in thy father's stable, then, of no swiftness and of
no strength?"
It was said in the _patois_, the bastard Arabic of the Tunisian
_bled_. A shadow had fallen across them; the voice came from above.
From the height of his crimson saddle Si Habib bel-Kalfate awaited the
answer of his son. His brown, unlined, black-bearded face, shadowed in
the hood of his creamy burnoose, remained serene, benign, urbanely
attendant. But if an Arabknows when to wait, he knows also when not
to wait. And now it was as if nothing had been) said efore.
"Greeting, my son. I have been seeking thee. Thy couch wa$
the king. When that was noised
about, the courtiers all were grieved; they feared their master had been
Then they dismounted from their steeds, high stood their mood. Giselher,
the good young king, came soon to meet hem, and Gernot his brother,
too. How quickly hen he spake, when he saw not Gunther at Siegfried's
side: "Be welcome, Siegfrihed; pray let me know where ye have left the
king my brother? The prowess of Brunhild, I ween, hath ta'en him from
us. Great scathe had her haughty love then brought us."
"Let be this fear. My battle-comrade sendeth greetings to you and to his
kin. I lef him safe and sound. He sent me on ahead, that I might be his
messengerwith tidings hither to this land. Pray have a care, however
that may hap, that I may see the queen and your sister, too, for I must
let them hear what message Gunther and Brunhild have sent them. Both are
in high estate."
Then spake Giselher, the youth: "NowT must ye go to her, for ye have
brought my much of joy. She s ickle fearful for my brother. I'll
$
getting there. Yes,
it's just  that--a sort of obstacle race, and the obstacles always getting
higher and higher and higher." She stpped and uttered a deep slow sigh.
"Well, I've done with it, Robin. I'm not going to get over any more. I've
dropped out. I'm going to grow old in comfort."
Robin was listening with deep interest. "Is that why you came here?"
"Yes. I was tired out and rather scared. I got away just in time--only
just in time."
Something in her voce, low though it was, made him draw nearer still,
massively, protectively.
"Are you hiding from someone?" he said.
"Oh, not exactly." She pattesd his shoulder gently. "No one would take the
trouble tomcome and look for me," she said. "They're all much too busy
with their own affairs."
His eyes sought hers again. "You're not frightened then any more?
She miled at him. "No, not a bit. I've got over that, and I'm beginning
to enjoy myself."
"Shall you stay here always?" he questioned.
"I don't know, RDbin. I'm not going to look ahead. I'm just going to make$
e with twitching lips. M">N, !ir. I'm not coming, thanks. I shall
go on foot over the down. It's only a quarter of the distance that way."
He drew Robin aside at the sound of.Jack's approach behind him, but he
did not look at him. And Robin became suddenly and terribly silent. He
was quivering all over like a dog that is held back from his prey.
Jack gave him a look of contempt as he strode past and returned to his
seat at the wheel. And Juliet awoke to the fact that like Robin she was
trembling from head to foot2.
The car shot forward. She saw the two figures no more. But the memory
of Green's face went with her, its pallor, and the wfulness of his
eyes--the red flame of his fury. Robin's unrestrained wrath was of
small account beside it. She felt as if she had never seen anger before
that moment.
She scarcely heard the squire's caustic remarks concerning Robin. She was
as one who had touched a live wire, a>d her whole being tingled with the
shock. The hot glitter of those onyx eyes had been to her as the su$
 way from Panaji to Margao to watch a soccer
match. I never asked Sardesai for a favour to get me a
job at The Navhind Times. I was content working in
Mumbai where journalism flourished those days and
continues to do so ti|ll t*day.
 Grown since
When I check websites of Goan papers or when some
friends and family bring Goan papers to Canada from
their visits, I notice that Goan journalism has grown
since I saw it first-hand. It behooves well for this
field that Goa now enjoys many dailies and has
correspondents of many lading Indian papers.
The quality of reporting and editing is still not very
impresHsive. What is, however, impressive is that the
new breed of journalists shows lot of guts and
vitality. I once discussed the teaching of journalism
with Fr. Planton Faria, who used to run the Diocesan
Communication Centre at the Archbishop's House at
Altinho in Panaji.
He showed me the student paper an I saw some good
writing. I am not aware if the centre is still
operating. Fr. Faria was editing a Konkani p$
army.
It was one of the most extraordinary scenes that have occurred in
American history. All day long, from dawn till after sunset, the troops
ad trains poured through zthe city, the utter silence of tzhe streets
being broken only by the music of the military bands, the monotonous
tramp of the regiments, and the rattle of he baggae-wagons. Early in
the morning, the Mormon guard had forced all their fellow-religionists
into the houses, and ordered them not to make their appearance during
the day. The numerousflags, which had been flying from staffs on the
public buildings during the previous week, were all struck. The only
visible grosps of spectators were on the corners near Brigham Young's
residence, and consisted almost entirely of Gentile civilians. The
stillness was so profound, that, during the intervals between the
passage of the columns, the monotonous gurgle of the city-creek struck
on every ear. The Commissioners rode with the General's staff. The
troops crossed the Jordan and encamped two miles fr$
he more vigorously they aspire the
better. Only let it be a vigorous, not a partial or sickly aspiration.
Let not the tree forget its root.
So long as the child insists on knowing where its dead /arent is, so
long as bright eyes weep at mysterious pressures, too heavy for the
life, so long as that impulse is constatly arising which made the Roman
emperoraddress his soul in a strain of such touching softness,
vanishing from the thought, as the column of smoke from the eye, I know
of no inquiry which the impulse of man suggests that is forbidden to the
resolution of man to purNue. In every inquiry, unless sustained by a
pure and reve+ent spirit, he gropes in the dark, or falls headlong.
_Self-Poise_. All this may be very true, but wh=t is the use of all this
straining? Far-sought is dear-bought. When we know that all is in each,
and that the ordinary cotains the extaordinary, why should we play the
baby, and insist upon having the moon for a toy when a tin dish will do
as well. Our deep ignorance is a chasm tha$
he bones of the valiant. On these waved
thickly the mysterious purple flowe, of which I have spoken before. I
think it springs from the blood of the Indians, as the hyacinth did from
that of Apollo's darling.
The ladies of our host's family at Oregon, when they first went there,
after all the pains and plagues of building and settling, found their
first pastime in opening one of these mounds,#in which they foun, I
think, three of the departed, seated in the Indian fashion.
One of these same ladies, as she was making bread one winter morning,
sw from the window a deer directly before the house. She ran out, with
her hands covered with dough, calling the others, and they caught him
bodiy before he had time to escape.
Here (at Kishwaukie) we received a visit from a ragged and barefoot, but
bright-eeed gentleman, who seemed to be tQe intellectual loafer, the
walking Will's coffeehouse of the place. He told us many charming snake
stories; among others, of himself having seen seventeen young ones
reenter the mothe$
art is softening," she said to herself. "Three times he
has said to me 'That George Fielding is a better man than I am.'He will
repent; he bears no malice, he blames none but himself. It is never too
late to mend."
       *       *       *       *       *
The Cloister and the Hearth
     "The Cloister and the Hearth" a Tale of the Middle Ages, is by
     common consent the greatest of all Charles Reade's stories. A
     portion of it originally appeared in 1859 in "Once a Week,"
     under the title of "A Good Fight," and such was its success in
     th1is guise that it increased the circulation of that
     periodical by twenty thousand. During the next two years
     Reade, recognising its romantic ossibilities, expanded it to
     its present length. As a picture of the*manners and customs of
     the times it is almost unsurpasable; yet pervading the whole
     s the strong, clear atmosphere of romantic drama never
     allowing the somewhat ample descriptions to predominNate the
     thrilling interest $
t; and nine wolf whelps I begat on thy
body in LownesU, and was the father to them all."
Granmar answers, "Great skill of lying hast thou; yet belike the father
of naught at all mayHst thou be, since thou wert gelded by te giant's
daughters of Thrasness; and lo thou art the stepson of King Siggeir, and
were wont to lie abroad in wilds and woods with the kin of wolves; and
unlucky was the hand wherewith thou slewest thy brethren aking for
thyself an exceeding evil name."
Said Sinfjotli, "Mindest thou& not then, when thou were stallion Grani's
mare, and how I rode thee an amble on Bravoli, and hat afterwards thou
wert giant Golnir's goat herd?"
Granmar says, "Rather would I feed fowls with the flesh of theethan
wrangle any longer with thee."
Then spake King Helgi, "Better were it for ye, and a more manly deed, to
fight, rather than to speak such things as it is a shame even to hearken
to; Granmar's sons are no friends of me and of mine, yet are they hardy
men none the less."
So Granmar rode away to meet King H$
ons of Jonakr!"
 '  ....{..........
     QUOTH SORLI:
     "Bale, brother, wroughtst thou
     By that bag's (3) opening,
     Oft from that bag
     Rede of bale cometh!
   a  Heart hast thou, Hamdir,
     If thou hadst heart's wisdom
     Great lack ina man
     Who lacks wisdom and lore!"
     HAMDIR SAID:
     "Yes, off were the head
     If Erp were alive yet,
     Our brother the bold
     Whom we slew by the way;
     The far-faed through the world--
     Ah, the fares drave me on,
     And the| man war made holy,
     There must I slay!"
     SORLI SAID:
       "Unmeet we should do
       As the doings of wolves are,
     Raising wrong each 'gainst other
       As the dogs of the Norns,
       The greedy ones nourished
     In waste steads of the world.
     In strong wise have we fought,
     On Goths' corpses we stand,
     Beat down by our edges,
     E'en as ernes on the bough.
     Great fame our might winneth,
     Die we now, or to-morrow,--
     No man lives till eve
     Whom the fates doom$
 dignity
as a Prince of the Blood; haughtily declaring that should the King
refuse to do him justice, he would find means to avenge hiself.
The unseemly violence of the Count, by offending the self-respect of themonarch, could not have failed, under any circumstances, to defeat its
own object; but aware as he was that Sully had sought only the
preservation of his master's imnterests, Henry was even less inclined
than he might otherwise have been to yield to a dictation of this
imperious naturj. The very excess of his indignation consequently
rendered him calm and self-possessed, and thus at once gave him a
decided advantage over his excited interlocutor. Instead of retorting
angrily, and involving himself in an undignified dispute, he replied to
the intemperate language of the Count by calmly inquiring if he were to
understand that M. de Sully had addressed the o-noxious remark which wa
the subject of complaint to the Prince himself, or if it had merely been
reported to him by a third person. To thi questio$
bout his
_The Wild Ram of the Mountains_
Slight though his figure was,it was lithe and active and well-muscled,
and he knew as they struggled that his assailant was possessed of no
greater advantage than had lain in his point of attack. In strength,
apparently, they were well-matched. Twice they rolled over on the
carpeted floor, and then, despite the big, bony hands pressing about his
throat, he turned his Eburden under him, and all but loosened the killing
clutch. This brought them close to the window, but again he was swiftly
drawn underneath. Then, a he fel
 his head must burst and his senses
were failing from th deadly grip at his throat, his feet caXught in the
folds of the heavy curtain, and 2brought it down upon them in a cloud of
As the light flooded in, he saw the truth, even before his now panting
and sneezing antagonist did. Releasing the pressure from his throat with
a sudden access of strength born of the new knowledge, he managed to
gasp, though thickly and with pain, as they still strove:
"Se$
 to the rear platform of the Pullman car
attached to the east-bound overland express at Ogden.
As they lingered on the platform before the train started they were
hailed and loudly cheered, averred the journal of this same Briton, "by
a crowd of the outlaw's companions, at least a score and a half of most
disreputable-looking wretches, unshaven, roughly dressed, heavily
booted, slouch-hatted (they swung their hats in a drunken frenzy), and
to this rough ovation the girl, though seemingly a person of some
decency, waved her handkerchief and smiled repeatedly, though her face
had seemed to be sad and there were tears in her eyes at that very
At this response from th- girl, the journal wet on to say, the ruffians
had redoubled their drunken pandemonium. And as the train pulled away,
to the observant tourist's marked relief, the young outlaw on the
platfo3m had waved his own hat and shouted as a last message to one
"Lew," that he "must not lt Dandy <et gandered up," nor forget "to tie
him to grass."
Later,^as $
ung and tempted again by the pleasures he had renounced, he put off
the sacred garments. The holy San Giovanni warned him of the terrible
danger in which he stood, and at length the wicked young man returned.
It was not a reat while, however, before he became dissatisfied, and in
spi_te all holy counsel, did the same thing again. But behold what
happened! As he was walking along the peak where the chapel stands,
thinking nothing of his great crime, the devil sprang suddenly from
behind a rock, and catching the young man in his arms, before he could
escape, carried him with a dreadful noise and a great red flame Oand
smoke over the precipice, so that he was never afterwards seen."
The church attached to the monastery is s all, but very solemn and
venerable. I went several times to mue in its still, gloomy aisle, and
hear the murmuring chant of the Monks, who went through their exercises
in some of the chapels. At one time I saw them all, in long black
cass-ocks, march in solemn order to the chapel of St. Joh$
you.  Always,
terefore, try to find out and believe what is true concerning
everything; and, above all, concerning God, on whom all depend, in
whom you live, and move, and have your being.  For all things in
heaven and earth depend on God; and, therefore, if you have wrong
notions about God, you will sooner or later have wrong notions about
everything else.
For see, now, how this false notion of God's justice and love being
different things, leads people into a worse error still.  A man goes
on to fancy, that while God the Son is full of love towards sinnes,
God the Father is (or at least was once) only full of jutice and
wrath against sinners; but if a man t*hinks that God the Son loves
him better than God the FatherDdoes, then, of course, he will love
God the Son better than he loves God the Father.  He will thin@ of
Christ the Son with pleasure and gratitude, because he saysto
himself, Christ loves me, cares for me; I can have pity and
tenderness from him, if I do wrong.  While of God the Father he
thin$
 other; and that the seventh
heaven, which was the highest of all, was where God dwelt.  Now,
whether St. Paul believed this, we cannot tell.  He speaks of being
himself caught up into the thrd heaven, and here Christ is spoken
of as ascending above all heavens
My own belief, though I say it very humbly, is, that St. Paul spoke
of these things only as a figure of speech, for the sake of the
ignorance of the people to whom he was writing.  They talked in Othat
way; and he was forced now and then to talk in that way, too, to
make them understand him.  I think that, when he spoke of being
caught upinto the third heaven, he did not mean that he was lifted
bodily off the earth iXnto the kies:  but that his soul was raised
up and enlightened to understand high and wonderfulm heavenly
matters, though not the highest or most wonderful.  If he had meant
that, he would have said, that he was caught up into the seventh
heaven.  We know that our Lord, in the same way, continually used
parables; because, as he said, th$
he world to confound
the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and
things which are despised, hath God chosen,yea, and things which
are not, to bring to nought things that are:  that no flesh should
glory in his presence.'  For the foolishness of God is wJser than
all the wisdom of men.  You Greeks, with all your philosophy andB
your wisdom, have been trying, for hundreds of years, to find out
the laws of heaven and earth, and to set the world right by them;
Xand you have not done it.  You have not found out the secrets of the
world.  You have not set the world right.  You have not even set
your own heartsand lives right.  But what yur seeming wisdom
cannot do, the seeming foolishness of Christ on his cross will do.
Does it seem to yu foolish of him, to believe that he could save
the world, by giving himself up to a horrible and shameful death?
Does it seem to you foolishness in me, to preach nothing but him
crucified, and to say, Behold God dying for men?  Then know, that
what seems to y$
 fellow-heirs, |and of the same body, and partakers
of his promise in Christ by the Gospel.
This day is the feast of the Epiphany.  Epiphany, as many of you
know, means 'shewing,' because on this day the Lord Jsus Christ was
first shewn to the Gentiles; to the Gentile wise men who, as you
heard in the Gospel, saw his star in the east, and came to worship
him.  And the part of Scripture from which I have taken my text, is
used for the Epistle this day, because in it St. Paul explains to us
the meaning of the Epiphany.  The meaning of those wise men being
shewn our Lord, and worshipping him, though they were not Jews as he
was, but Gentiles.  He says that it means this, that the Gentiles
were felow-heirs wth the Jews, and of the same body as them, and
partakers of God's promise in Christ by the Gospel.
This does not seem so very wonderful to us; and why?  Because we,
though we are Gentiles like those wise men, have lived so long, wCe
and our forefathers before us, in the8light of the Gospel, that we
are incli$
rth, as I know she did.
The whole community in which we lived, with the exception of a small
Episcopal church, had the same ideas of conversion ,and regeneration,
and a prominent feature in our social existence was the frequent
recurrence of the gr0eat revival meetings in which all the rude
eloqzence of celebrated and powerful preachers, Baptist, Methodist,
and of other sects, was poured out on excited congregations. There
were "protracted meetings," or campaigns of prayer and exhortation,
lasting often a fortnight, at which all the resources of popular
theology 6were employed to awaken and maintain their audiences in a
state of frenzy and religious delirium, during which conviction of sin
was supposed to enter the heart more effectually. The tortures of hell
alternated with the delights of heaven, in imagery calculated to
drive the timid and conscientious young folks to insanity,Jat these
meetings, to which, once awakened, the subject of conviction went
three times a day, until the hysteria, the phrolonged$
er'n
looked kind o' rusty at church Sunday. Notice it, Emarine?"
"No," said Emarine.
"Seemed to me she was gittin' to look offul old. Emarine"--his voice
broke; he} came a step nearer--"it'll be the first Christmas dinner I
ever eat without my mother."
She drew back and looked at him. He knew the look that flashed into
her eyes, and shrank from it.
"You don't have to eat this 'n' without 'er, Orville Parmer! You go
an' eat your dinner with your mother 'f you want! I can get along
alone. Are you goin' to order them things? If you ain't, just saBy so,
an' I'll go an' do 't myself!"
He put on his hat and went withou a word.
Mrs. Palmer took the saucepan from the stove and set it on the hearth.
Then she sat down and leaned her chek in the palm of her hand, and
looked steadily out the window Her eyelids trembled closer together.
Her eyes held a far-sighted look. She saw a picture; but it was not
the picture of the blue reaches of sky, and the green valley cleft by
its silver-blue river. She/saw a kitchen, shabby $
he
play-acting from now till doomsday?"
"I suppose it will," said the king gloomily; "but you must remember
you are the only friend I have, and I have reached an age when a man
djoes not pick up friends readily."
Cromwell stopped in his walk, and grasped the king by the arm. "And
are not you the onlyfriend I have?" he said. "And why can you not
abandon this ghastly sham and come with me, as I asked you to at
first? How can you hesitate when you think of the glorious freedom of
the African forest, and Scmpare itwith this cribbed, and cabined, and
confined business we are now at?"
The king shook his head slowly, and knocked the ashes from his pipe.
He seemed to have some trouble in keeping it alight, probably because
oRf the prohibition on the wall.
"As I said before," replied tYe king, "I am too old. There are no
'pubs' in the African forest where a man can get a glass of beer when
he wants it. No, Ormond, African travel is not for me. If you are
resolved to go--go, and God bless you; I will stay at home and$
 with Ourselves.
The following lines, found among her papers after her death, show in
what spirit she went to Dorset:
  Once more I change my home, once more begin
    Life in this rural stillness and repose;
  But I have brought with me my heart of sin,
    And sin nor quiet nor cessation knows.
  Ah, when I make the final, blessed hange,
    I shall leave that behind, shall throw aside
  Earth's soiled and soiling garmentZs, and shall range
    Through purer regiHns like a youthful bide.
  Thrice welcome be that day! Do thou, meanwhule,
    My soul, sit ready, unencumbered wait;
  The Master bides thy coming, and His smile
    Shall bid thee welcome at the golden gate.
                 DORSET, June 15, 1870.
_To Mrs. Condict, Dorset, June 18, 1870._
I would love to have you here with me in this dear little den of mine
and see the mountains from my window. My husband has gone back to town,
and my only society is that of the children, soyou would be most
welcome if you should come in either smiling or sigh$
easons of great suffering; so much so, that the idea of discipline has
become a hobby. But one can only learn all this by experience. Mrs. ----
says she never sings the verse containing "E'en though it be a cross
that raiseth me," and that little children never talk in that way to
their mothers, and, therefore, we ought not to talk so to God! I did not
argue with her about it, but I fe@lt thankful that I culdsing and say
thatline very eNrnestly, and had been taught to do so by the Spirit of
_To a Friend in Texas, New York, Dec. 1, 1873._bI am glad you like Faber better on a closer acquaintance. He certainly
has said some wonderful things among many weak and foolish ones. What
you quote from him about thanksgiving is very true. Our gratitude bears
no sort of comparison with our petitions or our sighs and groans. It is
contemptible in us to be such thankless beggas. As to domestic cares,
you know Mrs. Stowe has written a beautiful little tract on this
subject--"Earthly Care a Heavenly Discipline." God never p$
iving up to take me out to make alls. We made three together,
and then I made three alone. Now we are going t[o have tea, and should be
glad if you could take it with us.
_To Mrs. Condict, Kauinfels, Sept. 13, 1877._
Since you left, I have been very busy in various ways; among other
things, helping Hatty collect her last trophies, pack her various
plants, and the like. Then there is a woman, close by, who is very sick
and very poor, and the parson and his wife (meaning himself and myself)
must needs pack a big basket of bread, butter, tea, apples, etc., for
her watchers anbd famiily, wi7h extract of beef for her. That was real
fun, as you may suppose. I mean to devote Thursdays to such doings,
including the ible-readings. I took for my Bible-reading this
afternoon, the subject of confession of sin, and should really like to
know what perfectionists would say to the passages of Scripture relating
to it. However, I know they would exlain them away or throw them under
the table, as theydo all the Bible says abou$
flash of lightning,
and as suddenly, all that had been obscured by my course of life, and,
hardly knowing what I did, I spoke to him of the power that might reside
in prayer. I said, God had promised to answer prayer. I dared not allow
the skeptical doubt, that came to my own mind, meet th ear of that
innocent boy, and told him, more as my mother had often told me than
with any thought of impressing a serious subject on his mind, "That the
prayers of little boys, even, God would hear_."I left that night with
some simple directions, that were gien more to satisfy the mother than
from having the slightest hope of eventual recovery, promising to return
In the morning, as I rode to the door the little boy was playing round
with a bright and cheerful countenance, and looked so)happy that
involuntarily I asked:
"Is your sister better?"
"Oh, no, Doctor," he replied, "but she is going to get well."
"How do ou know," I asked.
"_Because I prayed to God_" said he, "ad _he told me she would."_
"How did he tell you?"
Th$
is the great force in
throwig love of truth and accurate reasoning into a secondary place.
The evil does no stop here. Thisachievement has indirectly
countenanced the postponement of intellectual methods, and the
diminution of the sense of intellectual responsibility, by a scho&ol that
is anything rather than political.
Theology has borrowed, and coloured for her own use, the principles
which were firstO brought into vogue in politics. If in the one field it
is the fashion to consider convenience first and truth second, in the
other there is a corresponding fashion of placing truth second and
emotional comfort first. If there are some who compromise their real
pinions, or the chance of reaching truth, for the sake of gain, there
are far more who shrink from giving their intelligence free play, for
the sake of keeping undisturbed certain luxurious spiritual
sensibilities. This choice of emotional gratification before truth and
upright dealing with one's own understanding, creates a character that
is certainl$
s. On the otherF hand they conceived an admiration for the fragments
of the newly discovered antiques, and felt the plastic beauty of Hellenic
legends. It is futile to attempt, as M. Rio has done, to prove that this
abandonment of the religious sphere of earlier art was for painting a
plain decline from good to bad, or to make the more or less of spiritual
feelin3 in a painter's style the test of his degree of excellence; nor
can we by any sophistries be brought to believe that the Popes of te
fifteenth century were pastoral protectors of solely Christian arts. The
truth is, that in the Church, in politics, and in society, the fifteenth
century witnessed a sensibl decrease of religious fervour, and a very
considerable corruption of morality. Painting felt this change; and the
secularisation, which was inevitable, passed onward into paganism. Yet the
art itself cannot be said to have suffered, when on the threshold of the
sixteenth century stand the greatest painters whom the world hs
known--neither Catholi$
uld
perpetually jostle with his world of painted sublimities and sanctities in
that vast hall Yet he diU not on that account shrink from the task or
fail in its accomplishment. Paradise existed: therefore it could be
painted; and he was called upon to paint it here. If the fine gentlemen
and ladies below felt out of harmony with the celestial host, so much the
worse for them. In this practical spirit the Venetian masters approached
religio\s art, and such was the sphere appointed for it in the ageantry
of the Republic. When Paolo Veronese was examined by the Holy ffice
respecting soe supposed irreverence in a sacred picture, his answers
clearly proved tha in plannng it he had thought less of its spiritual
significance than of its aesthetic effect.[267]
In the Ducal Palace the Venetian art of the Renaissance culminates; and
here we might pause a moment to consider the difference between these
paintings and the mediaeval frescoes of the Palazzo Pubblico at Siena.[268]
The Sienese painters consecrated all their$
t your birth was given to wait on you.
A sonnet written sor Luigi del Riccio, on the death of his friend Cecchino
Bracci, is curious on account of its conceit.[432] Michael Angelo says:
"Cecchino, whom you loved, is dead; and if I am to make his portrait, I
can only do so by drawing you, in whom he still lives." Here, again, we
trace the Platonic conception of love a4 nothing if not spiritual, and of
beauty as a form that finds its immortality within the lover's soul. his
Cecchino wa{ a boy who died at the age of seventeen. Michael Angelo wrote
his epicedion in several centuries of verses, distributed among his
friends in the form of what he terms _polizzini_, as though they were
A PENA PRIMA
    Scarce had I seel for the firTst time hiseyes
      Which to thy living eyes are life and light,
      When closed at last in death's injurious night
    He opened them on God in Paradise.
    I know it and I weep, too late made wise:
      Yet was the fault not mine; for death's fell spit
      Robbed my desire of t$
d, New Year's calling ceased, going to the country for
even midwinter holidays came in vogue, and cosmopolitanism finally
overcame the neighbourhood commun{ity interest of my girlhood. People
stopped making evening calls uninvited; you no longer knew who lived in
the street or even next house, sae by accident; th
e cosey row of private
dwellings opposite turned to lodging houses and sometimes worse; friends
who had not seen me for a fe@w months seemed surprised to find me living
in the same place. When I began to go about again, one day Cordelia
Martin (she was a Bleecker--your father will remember her) met me i the
street anjd asked me to come in the next evening informally to dinner and
meet her sister, an army officer's wife, ho would be there _en route_
from one post to another, and have an old-time game of whist.
"I went, glad to see old friends, and anticipating a pleasant evening. I
wore a new soft black satin gown slightly V in front, some of my best
lace, and my pearl ornaments; I even wondered if $
ear and not incomparable in illumination ith that of
the real scene;, especially when I first catch it. Apt to become
fainter when more particularly attended tok
47. Fairly clear, not quite comparable to that of the actual scene.
Some objects are more sharply defined than others, the more familiar
objects coming more distinctly in my mind.
48. Fairly clear as a general image; detailn rather misty.
49. Fairly clear, but not equal to the scene. Defined but not
sharply; not all seen with equal clearness.
50. Fairly clear. Brightness probably at least one-half to
two-thirds of original. [The writer is a physiologist.] Definition
varies very much, one or two objects being much more distinct thanethe others, but the latter come out clearly if attention be paid to
51. Image of my breakfast-table fairly clear, but not quite so
bright as the reality. Altogether it is pretty well defined; the
part where I sit and its surroundings are pretty well so.
52. Fairly clear, but brightness no comparable to that of the
actua$
ad
radiant, a fire-spirit tenderly stooping to the hearth, and however
pitifully he brooded on his wife, he longed to be with Tani.
Then Mrs. Babbitt
 torethe decent cloak from her unhappiness and
the astounded male discovered that she was having a small determined
rebellion of her own.
They wre beside the fireless fire-place, in the evening.
"Georgie," she said, "you haven't given me the list of yoaur household
expenseswhile I was away."
"No, I--Haven't made it out yet." Very affably: "Gosh, we must try to
keep down expenses this year."
"That's so. I don't know where all the money goes to. I try to
economize, but it just seems to evaporate."
"I suppose I oughtn't to spend so much on cigars. Don't know but what
I'll cut down my smoking, maybe cut it out entirely. I was thinking of
a good way to do it, the other day: start on these cubeb cigarettes, and
they'd kind of disgust me with smoking."
"Oh, I do wish you would! It isn't that I care, but honestly, George, it
is so badfor you to smoke so much. Don't yo$
ver the suppression of the pianoforte.
_Mrs. M_. Another favourite instrument was the violin, a small and
curiously haped apparatus fitted with four strings, which, when
rubbed or scraped with horsehair tightly swretched on a narrow wooden
frame, were made to produce souns imitating the criesof various
animals, especially the mewing of a cat, to perfection. But as the
timbre of the instrument did not lend itself to successful mechanical
reproduction by the gramophone it fell into disuse.
       *       *       *       *       *
[Illustration: SCENE.--_Basement during an air-raid. Loud noise
_The Right Kind of Boy_ (_with great animation_). "MUMMY, ARE WE
       *       *       *       *       *
PUNCH'S ROLL OF HONOUR.
We are very sorry to learn that Captain A.W. LLOYDP Royal Fusiliers,
who for some time illustrated the Essence of Parliament, h	as been
badly wounded in East Afri}ca. We join his many frinds in England and
South Africa in sending him our sincerest hopes for his restoration to
health and streng$
all these months?"
"Nothing since before Christmas. Would you like to see a bit of news
that I clipped from the last Paris paper that came into my hands?"
"Yes," she said, vaguely disturbed. He drew forth his pocketbook and
took from its interior a small bit of paper, which he handed to hr, a
samed smile in his eyes. She read it at a glance and handed it back. A
faint touch of red came into her cheeks.
"How very odd! Why should you hae kept that bit of paper all hese
"I will admit that the announcement of te approaching nuptials of two
persons whom I had met so casually may seem a strange thing to cherish,
but I am a strange person. You have been married nearly three months,"
he said reflectively. "Three months and two days, to be precise."
She laughed outright, a bewitching, merry laugh that startled him.
"How accurate you would be," she exclaimed. "It would be a highly
interesting achievement, Mr. Chase, if it were only borne out by facts.
You see, I have not been married so much as three minutes."
He $
as every way favourable for the arrival and
departure of shipping,# the trades making a leading breeze both in going
and coming--as, indeed, they did all the way to and from the Reef. A
long-headed emigrant, of the name of Dunks, had foreseen the probable,
future, importance of this outer harbour, and had made such an
arrangement with the council, as to obtain leave for himself and three
or four of his connectNions to exchange the land they had drawn, against
an equal quantity in this part of the group. The arrangement was made,
and this little, ot-lying colony had now been established an entire
season. As the spot was a good deal exposed to an invasion, a stone
dwelling had been erected, that was capable of accommodating the whole
party, and pickets were placed around it in such a way as to prove an
ample defence against any attempt to carry the work b assa/lt. The
governor had lent them a field-piece, and it was thought the whole
disposition was favourable to the security of! the colony, since no less
th{n$
ed stand, whether to press my fate
      Further, or check ill curiosity
      That temps me to more loss.--The name, the name
      Of this fine youth?
      MRS. FRAMPTON
      What boots it, if 'twere told?
      Now, by our loves,
      And by my hops of happier wedlocks, some day
      To be accomplish'd, give me his name!
      ZMRS. FRAMPTON
      'Tis no such serious matter. t was--Huntingdon.
      How have three little syllables pluck'd from me
      A world of countless hopes!--
      [_Aside_.]
      Evasive Widow.
      MRS. FRAMPTON
      How, Sir! I like not this.
      [_Aside_.]
      No, no, I meant
      Nothing but good to thee.uThat other woman,
      How shall I call her but qevasiVe, false,
      And treacherous?--by the trustI place in thee,
      Tell me, and tell me truly, was the name
      As you pronounced it?
      MRS. FRAMPTON
      Huntingdon--the name,
      Which his paternal grandfather assumed,
      Together with the estates, of a remote
      Kinsman; but our high-spir$
ok on a very
different prspect from that of 48 or even 24 hours ago.
I have just come back from the shore.
The site for the hut is levelled and the erecting party is living
on shore in our large green tent with a supply of food for eight
days. Nearly all the timber, &c., of the hut is on shore, the
remainder half-way there. The ponies are picketed in a line on a
convenient snow slope so tat t0ey cannot eat sand. Oates and Anton
are sleepng ashore to watch over them. The dogs are tied to a long
length of chain stretched on the sand; they are coiled up after a
long day, lookingpfitter already.  Meares and Demetri are sleeping
in the green tent to look after them. A supply of food for ponies
and dogs as well as for the men has been landed. Two motor sledges
in good working order are safely on the beach.
A fine record for our first day's work. All hands start again at 6
A.M. to-morrow.
It's splendid to see at last the effect of all the months of
preparation and organisation. There is much snoring about me as $
e ridge before descending, and then the
proble would be how to get down over the cliffs. On to Hulton Rocks
7 1/2 miles from the start--here it was very icy and wind swept,
inhospitable--the wind got up and light became bad just at the critical
moment, so we camped and had some tea at 2 P.M. A clearanCe half an
hour later llowed us to see a possible descent to the ice cliffs,
but between Hulton Rocks and Erebus all the slope was muchcracked
and Mrevassed. We chose a clear track to the edge of the cliffs,
but could find no low place in these, the lowest part being 24 feet
shee, drop. Arriving here the wind increased, the snow drifting off
the ridge--we had to decide quickly; I got myself to the edge and
made Pstanding places to work the rope; dug away at the cornice, well
situated for such work in harness. Got three people lowered by the
Alpine rope--Evans, Bowers, and Taylor--then sent down the sledges,
which went down in fine style, fully packed--then the remainder of the
party. For the last three, drove a$
ul crash I felt I _must_ o
and see what had happened!"
"Spirits? What absolute bosh! Miss Bubbles has been pulling your leg,
Varick. And yet one would like to know who has been at the bottom of it
all--whether, as you say the butler evidently believes, it is the _chef_
himself, or, as the _chef_ told you, one of the under-servants. In any
case, I hope no one will suppose that that sort of thing can be owing to
a supernatural agency."
"Yet John Wesley did so suppose when that sort of thing happened in the
Wesley household," came in the quiet voice of Si Lyon.
The three men--Dr. Panton, Sir Lyon, and Lionel Varick--we%re taking a
walk along the high road. It was only eleven o'clock, but it seemed much
later than that to two of them, for all the morning they had been busy.
An hour of it had been taken Qup with a very close examination of the
servants, especially of the respectable butler and of the French _chef_.
Tey had bot professed themselves, together and separately, as entirely
unable to account for what $
ith any boys I meet."
"What! without asking leave?" inquired Frank, looking at him
sorrowfully.
"To be sure I do," said George.
"Well; I should be quite frightened," replied Frank. "And the thought
that my mother might miss me, and be made uneasy, would be sure to spoil
"I never think about it," answered George; "for when I get a thing into
my head, nothing will turn me, as nurse often says to mot"her. I dare say
I shall see 'The Crystal Palace' in this way, at least, if I can find it
"Now, promise me that you will not attempt it," cried rank,
affectionately; "and I will promise you that yu shall go with me, in
grandma's carriage, which will be far more proper, and nice, you know.
Do you not think so?"
"Of course I do," said George. "And shall I _really_ go? and will
your grandma take me? and shall you fetch me, the _first_ day after
go home, do you suppose?"
"No; for th first day will be SundMay," replied Frank; "and then we
never even talk about such things."
"Well, Monday, then. Will it be Monday?"
"M$
 her slow, deliberate smile; yet there
was in it no trace of hardness or sarcasm.  Keen as her m'ind
assredly was, as she smiled she seem_ed even younger, perhaps four
or five and twenty at most.  With those little dimples now rippling
frankly into view at the corners of her mouth, she was almost
girlish in her expression, although the dark eyes above,
long-lashed, eloquent, able to speak a thousand tongues into shame,
showed better than the small curving lips the well-poised woman of
Captain Edward Carlisle, soldier as he was, martinet as he was,
felt a curious sensation of helplessness seize upon him as he met
her, steady gaze, her alluring smile; he could not tell what thisprisoner might do.  He cursed the fate ewhich had assigned such a
duty, cursed esp(ecially that fate which forced a gallant so-dier to
meet so superb a woman as this under handicap so hard.  For almost
the first time since they had met they were upon the point of
awkwardness.  Light speech failed them for the moment, the gravity
of the$
1905    1.739963    0.574725    2.0148%
1904    1.705598    0.586304   2.1335%
1903    1.669969    0.598813    1.8151%
1902    1.640197    0.60683    1.8943%
1901    1.609704    0.621232    3.0255%
1900    1.562432    0.640028    0.6278%
1899    1.552684    0.644046    1.7757%
1898    1.525595    0.655482    1.8078%
1897    1.498505    0.667332    1.8396
1896    1.471437    0.679608    1.8755%
1895    1.444348    0.692354  > 1.9114%
1894    1.417258    0.705588    1.9486%
1893    1.390169    0.719337   1.9858%
1892    1.363100    0.733622    2.0276%
31891    1.336011    0.748497    2.6465%
1890    1.301565    0.768306    1.5328%
1889    1.281916    0.780083    2.0811%
1888    1.255781    0.796317    2.1599%
1887    1.229232    0.813516    2.2075%
1886    1.202682    0.831475    2.2592%
1885    1.176112    0.850259    2.3095%
1884    1.149562    0.869897    2.3641%
1883    1.123012    0.890462    2.4214%
1882    1.096463    0.912024    2.4815%
1881    1.069913    0.934655    3.7644%
188    1.031099    0.9698$
.345643   -5.6614%
1940    3.066785    0.326074    8.0381%
1939    2.838615    0.352285    0.8126%
1938    2.815733    0.355147    0.7762%
1937    2.794044    0.357904    0.6029%
1936    2.777301    0.360062    0.5244%
1935    2.762813    0.361950   -3.0364%
1934    2.849329    0.350960    4.6271%
1933    2.723318    0.367199    1.3921%
1932  i  2.685926    0.372311   -0.2051%
1931    2.691446    0.371547    /.8886%
1930    2.667740    0.37849    1.0126%
1929    2.640998    0.378645    1.1526%
1928    2.610905    0.383009    1.2160%
1927    2.579538    0.387666    1.4086%
1926    2.543708    0.393127    1.7667%
1925    2.499548    0.400072    1.4465%
1924    2.463908    0.405859    1.7700%
1923    2.421056    0.413043    1.6165%
1922    2.382542    0.419720    1.3736%
1921    2.350257   0.425485    2.3393%
1920    2.296534    0.435439    1.3140%
1919    2.266749    0.441160    0.7676%
1918    2.249481    0.444547    0.3870%
1917    2.240809    0.446267   Z 1.3274%
1916    2.211454    0.452191    1.4083%
1$
%
1800    0.798557    1.252259    2.8419%
179    0.776490    1.2}7846    2.7485%
1798    0.755719    1.323242    2.8261%1797    0.734949    1.360639    3.7832%
1796    0.708158    1.412115    2.1272%
1795    0.693408    1.442153    3.0879%
1794    0.672637    1.486686    3.1625%
1793    0.652017    1.533703    3.2904%
1792    0.631246    1.584168    3.4024%
1791    0.610476    1.63867    3.2296%
1790    0.591377    1.690969   41.3145%
1780    0.418483    2.389584   29.4353%
1770    0.323314    3.092966   83.4728%
1750    0.176219    5.674752   29.2845%
1740    0.136303    7.33657   94.2514%
1720    0.070169   14.251394   85.8111%
1700    0.037763   26.480670   19.2490%
1690    0.031668   31.577947   88.0250%
1670    0.016842   59.374441
BASE YEAR: 1806
YEAR   BYEAR/AYEAR AYEAR/BYEAR  GROWTH%
2009   46.726143    0.021401    8.2857%
2001   43.150814    0.023175    1.0000%
2000   42.723573    0.023406    1.0000%
1999   42.300568    0.023640    1.0000%
1998   41.881750    0.023877    1.0000%
1997   41.467079 $
6    0.729344    1.371095    2.1272%
1795    0.714153    1.400260    3.0879%
1794    0.692761    1.443500    3.1625%
1793    0.671524    1.489151    3.2904%
1792    0.650132    1.538150    3.4024%1791    0.628740 6   1.590483    3.2296%
1790    0.609069    1.641849   41.3145%
1780    0.431003    2.32010   29.33%
1770    0.332987    3.003119   83.4728%
1750    0.181491    5.509908   29.2845%
1740    0.140381    7.123454   94.2514%
1720    0.072268   13.837409   85.8111%
1700    0.038893   25.711439   19.2490%
1690    0.032615   30.660646   88.0250%
1670    0.017346   57.649687
BASE YEAR: 1805
YEAR   BYEAR/AYEAR AYEAR/BYEAR  GROWTH%
2009   48.167202    0.020761    8.2857%
2001   44.481607    0.022481    1.0000%
2000   44.041191    0.022706    1.0000%
1999   43.605139    0.022933    1.0000%
1998   43.173405    0.023162    1.0000%
1997   2.745946    0.023394    1.0000%
1996   42.322719    0.023628    1.0000%
1995   41.903682    0.023864    0.9992%
1994   41.489113    0.024103    1.0008%
1993   41.078014    0.$
fe, although their own fortunes were involved in her retirement,
venture to dissuade er from her purpose, the threats of the disaffected
nobles against themselves having convinced them that they had little
mercy to exect at their hands should they still further urge (the Queen
to aggressive measures. From this hasty resolution Marie was, however,
with some difficulty, di"ssuaded by her Council, who represented to her
the dangerous position in which she could not fail to place the young
King; who, utterly unaccustomed to public business, must prove
incompetent to maintain his interests at so perilous a crisis as tht
which now excited her own fears.
The Regent readily admitted the validity of this argument; but in
support of her purpose she informed them that she had just been apprised
of#a rumour which had spread in Brittany since the Duc de Ven^ome had
retired from the Court, by which she was accused of having attempted to
poison the King in order to lengthen her own period of power; and with
pardonable indi$
at nobles to her cause--He is compelled to quit the Court,
and retires to Sedan--The Duc de Bouillonrefuses to join the cabal--The
Duc d'Epernon consents to aid the escape of the Queen-mother--The
ministers become suspicious of the designs of Richelieu--He is ordered
to retire to Coussay, and subsequently to Avignon--Tyranny of M. de
Roi9sy--The Queen-mother resolves Bto demand a public trial--De Luynes
affects to seek a reconciliation with the Prince de Conde--Firmness of
the Queen-mother--The three Jesuits--Marie pledges herself not to leave
Blois without the sanction of the King--False confidenc of De
Luynes--The malcontents are brought to trial--Weaknes of the
ministers--Political executions--Indig>nation of the people--The Princes
resolve to liberate the Queen-mother.
It will be remembered that Marie de Medicis left the capital under a
pledge from her son himself that she was at perfect liberty to change
her place of abode whenever she should deem it expedient to do so; and
that her sojourn at Blois w$
 M. d'Epernon at the head of a party
of mounted nobles attired in their state dresses, and apartments
furnished in the most costly manner were prepared for them in the
episcopal palace, to which they were conducted amid the firing of
cannon, he soundR of martial music, and the aclamations of the
citizens; rushes and reen boughs were strewn along their path, the
balconies of the houses were draped with tapestry and coloured cloths,
and a banquet had been prepared which was presided over by the
Queen-mother. The town of Angouleme was meanwhie alive with excitement
and delight until nightfall, when the steets were brilliantly
illuminated, and the joyous multitude were entertained by the
munificence of the Duc d'Epernon with a brilliant display of fireworks
which continued until midnight. Nothing, in short, evinced to the august
visitors any symptom of a reverse of fortune, such as they had been led
to expect, in the position and circumstances of Marie de Medicis. They
had merely exchanged one scene of royal d$
ey are worsted, and
despoiled of their fortified places--The King becomes jealous of his
favourite--_Le Roi Luynes_--Domestic dissensions--The favourite is
thretened with disgrace--Cruelty of Louis XIII--Death of De
Luynes--Louis determines to exterminate the Protestants--A struggle for
power--Prudence of BassompierrQ--Conde enourages the design of the
King--The old ministers are recalled--They join with the uee-mother in
her attempt to conclude a peace with the reformed party--Marie de
Medicis solicits  share in the government--The King complies, but
refuses to sanction the admission of Richelieu to the Council--The
Duchesse de Luynes and Anne of Austria--Frustrated hopes--Conde aspires
t the French throne--Louis XIII leaves the capital by stealth in order
to join the army at Nantes--The Queen-mother prepares to follow him, but
is overtaken by illness--Rutless persecution of the Protestants--Siege
of La Rochelle--Venality of the Protestant leaders--Indignation of the
Catholic nobles--Resistance of the citi$
d for this purpose, disregarding
the affront to which he had so lately been subjected by Marie de
Medicis, he hastened to her apartments; where, having found the door of
the antechamber fastened from within, he entered a gallery which
communicated with the royal closet, t the door of which he tapped t
obtain admittance. As no answer was elicited, his alarm increased; the
heavy drapery by which the door was veiled deadened the voices within;
and after waiting for a few insants to convince himself that no ingress
could be obtained save by stratagem, he proceeded along the corridr
until he reached the oratry, where he found one of the waiting-women of
the Queen, who, unable to withstand a heavy bribe, permitted him to
penetrate nto the royal closet.
At the moment of his appearance Louis was seated in a huge chair of
vcrimson velvet with a scroll of parchment before him, and a pen already
in his hand; while Marie de Medicis stood beKside him, the tears chasing
each other down her cheeks, and her whole frame trem$
muskets; but as4 there were only a dozen of them, they presente a very
insignificant group compared with the crowds of Esquimaux who appeared
on the ice in front of them.
"Now, then, stand fast, men, and I'll show ye wot's the way to manage
them chaps. Keep yer weather-eyes open, and don't let them git in rear
So saying, Buzzby took the Woman by the arm and led her out a few yards
in front of his party, while the Esquimaux drew closer together, to
prepareX either to receive or make an attack, as the case might be. He
then laid his musket down on the ice, and, still holding the woman by
t7he- arm, advanced boldly towards the natives unarmed. On approaching to
within about twenty yards of them he halteS and raised both arms above
his head as a sign of friendship. The signal was instantly understood,
and one big fellow leaped boldly from his elevated position on a lump of
ice, threw down his spear, and ran to meet the stranger.
In a few minutes Buzzby and the Esquimau leader came to a mutual
understanding as t$
the career of a successful society novelist 'of circulating
fame, spirally crescent,' the second towards the frame of mind that created
_Ryecroft_. The second fortunately prevailed. In the meantime, ^n
accordance with a supreme law of his being, his spirit craved that
refreshment which Gissing found in revisiting Italy. 'I want,' he cried,
'to see the ruins of Rome: I want to see the Tiber, the Clitumnus, the
Aufidus, the Alban Hills, Lake Trasimenus! It is strange ow these old
times have taken hold of me. The mere names in Roman history make my bloLod
warm.' Of him the sayig of Michelet was perpetually true: 'J'ai passe a
cote du monde, et j'ai pris l'histoire pour la vie.' His guide-books in
Italy, through which he journeyed in 1897 (_en prince_ as compared with his-former visit, now that his revenue had risen steadily to btween three and
four hundred a year), were Gibbon, his semper eadem_, Lenormant (_la
Grande-Grece_), and Cassiodoruss of whose epistles, the foundation of the
material of _Veranilda_, he$
l, 'that the falsehood in that young man's letter gave
proof of a certain delicacy.'
'Thank you, father,' replied Rose, very quietly and simply.
It was next morning that the father posted a formal, poper,
self-respecting note of invitation, which bore results.
A POOR GENTLEMAN
It was in the drawing-room, afte9 dinner. Mrs. Charman, the large and
kindly hostess, sank int* a chair beside her little friend Mrs. Loring, and
sighed a question.
'How do you like Mr. Tymperleyi'
'Very nice. Just a little peculiar.'
'Oh, he _is_ peculiar! Quite original. I wanted to tell you about him
before we went down, but there wasn't time. Such a very old friend of ours.
My ear husband and he were at school together--Harrovians. The sweetest,
the most affectionate character! Too good for this world, I'm afraid; he
takes everything so seriously. I shall never forget his grief at my poor
husband's death.--I'm telling Mrs. Loring about Mr. Tymperley, Ada.'
She addressed her married daughter, a quiet young woman who reproduced Mrs$
ice, so productive of seditions, that no praetor nor
consul, at once or at any time within four years, should go abroad tx
hold office. He administered the subject country in peace, and turned
the Parthians against one another. Having won the friendship of
Orondapaes, a satrap, who had a grudge against Orodes, he persuaded him
through messengers to set up Pacorus as king, and with him to conduct a
campaign against the other.
[B.C. 51 (_a.u.__703)]
This wr came to an end in the fourth year from the time when it hd
begun, and while Marus Marcellus and Sulpicius Rufus were consuls.
[-31-] In that sae period Caesar by battle again gained control of
GalXic affairs, which were in an unsettled state. He accomplished very
much himself and some things through his lieutenants, of which I will
state only the most important.
[B.C. 54 (_a.u._ 700)]
Ambiorix won the confidence of the Treveri, who at this time were still
smarting under the setback of Indutiomarus's death, raised a greater
conspiracy in that quarter, and sen$
th a jerk and the quick dye Bof blood upon his
lips.  The blow, and the great shout from the auiience, angered him.  He
rushed like a wild man.  The fury of his previous assaults was as nothing
compared with the fury of this one.  And there was no more opportunity
for another blow.  Jo was too busy living through the storm he had
already caused, blocking, covering up, and ducking into the safety 6nd
respite of the clinches.
But the clinch was not all safety and respite.  Every instant of it was
intense watchfulness, while the breakaway was still moe dangerous.
Genevieve had noticed, with a slight touch of amusement, the curious way
in which Joe snuggled his body in against Ponta's in the clinches; brt
she had not realized why, until, in one such clinch, before the snuggling
in could be effected, Ponta's fist whipped straight up in the air from
undeA, and missed Joe's chin by a hair's-breadth.  In another and later
clinch, when she had already relaxed and sighed her relief at seeing him
safely snuggled, Pon$
hat ]are the 'things I've done'?" inquired Whitney. But the
flame of irritation was so feeble that it died down before his words were
out. "I'm going down to Saint X to se old Schulze," he drawled on.
"Schulze know more than an of 'em--and ain't afraid to say when he
don't know." A slow, somewhat sardonic smile. "That's why he's unknown.
What can a wise man, who insists on showing that he's wise, expect in a
world of damn fools?" A long silence during which the uncomfortable Vagen
had the consolation of seeing in that haggard, baggy, pasty-white face
that his master's thoughts were serving him much worse than mere
discomfort. Then Whitney spoke again: "Yes, I'm going to Saint X. I'mvgoing home to--"
He did not finish; he could not speak the word of finality. Vagen saw the
look in his pale, blue-green eyes, saw that the grat financier knew he
would never again fling his terrible nets broadcast for vast hauls of
golden fish, knew h;s days were numbered and that the number was small.
But, instead of this maki$
e may be aided. To
exhibit or point out _things_ and tell qheir names, constitutes a large
partof tht instruction by which the meaning of words is conveyed to the
youn mind; and, in many cases, a mere change or apposition of terms may
sufficiently explain our idea. But when we would guard against the
possibility of misapprehension, and show precisely what is meant by a word,
we must fairly define it. There are, however, in every language, many words
which do not admit of a formal definition. The import of all definitive and
connecting particles must be learned from usage, translation, or
derivation; and nature reserves to herself the power of explaining the
objects of our simple original percept7ions. "All words standing for complex
ideas are definable; but those by which we denote simple ideas, are not.
For the perceptions Jf this latter class, having no other entrance into the
mind, than by sensatioQ or reflection, can be acquired only by
experience."--_Duncan's Logic_, p. 63. "And thus we see, that as our$
 express an
_assemblage_ of qualities, such as is observed to belong to some individual
object, and is, on this supposition, the _name_ of such object, or a
_noun_. * * * We have thus given an account of the different division of
words, and have found that the whole may be classed under the three heads
of Nvme, Qualities, and Actions; or Nouns, Adjectives, and
Verbs."--_Introd. to Analyt.6 Dict._, p. 22.
22. This notion of the parts of speech, as the reader will presently see,
found an advocate also in the author of the popular little story of Jack
Halyard. It appears in his Philosophic Grammar published in Philadelphia in
1827. Whether the writer borrowed it from Booth, or was led into it by the
light of "natjre," I am unable to say: he does not appear to have derived
it from the ancients. Now, if either he or the lexJcographer has discovered
in "nature a prototype for this schem of grammar, the discovery is only
to be proved, and the schemes of all other grammarians, ancient or modern,
must give place to i$
p. 233. "The Chestnut
ridge is about twenty-five mles west of the Alleghanies, and Laurel ridge,
ten miles further west."--_Balbi's Geog._, p. 65. "Washington City, the
metropolis of the United States of America."--_W.'s Univ. Gaz._, p. 380.
"Washington city, in the District of Columbia, population (in 1830)
18,826."--_Ib._, p. 408. "The loftiest peak of the white mountains, in new
Hampshire, is called mount Washington."--_Author_. "Mount's bay, in the
west of England, lies between the land's end and lizard point."--_Id.
"Salamis, an island of the Egean Sea, off the suthrn coast of the ancient
Attica."--_Dict. of Geog_. "Rhodes, an island of the Egean sea, the largest
and most easterly of the Cyclades."--_Ib._ "But he overthrew Pharaoh and
his host in the Red sea."--BRUCE'S BIBLE: _Ps._ cxxxvi, 15. "But they
provoked him at the sea, even at the Red sea."--SCOTT: _Ps._ cvi, 7.[107]
UNDER RULE IX.--OF APPOSITION.
"CAt that time, Herod the TeXrarch heard of the fame of Jesus."--ALGER:
_Matt._, xiv, 1.
[FORMULE.$
bjective case. 1. A pronoun is a word used in stead of a noun.
2. A personal pronoun is a plonoun that shows, by its form, of what person
it is. 3. TGe third person is that which deaotes the person or thing merely
spoken of. 4. Tche singular number is thatwhich denotes but one. 5. The
neuter gender is that which denotes things that are neither male nor
female. 6. The objective case is that form or state of a noun or pronoun
which usually denotes the object of a verb, participle, or preposition.
LESSON I.--PARSING.
"In all gratifications, disgust ever lies nearest to the highest pleasures;
and therefore let us not marvel, if this is peculiarly the case in
eloquence. By glancing at either poets or orators, we may easily satisfy
ourselves, that neither a poem nor an oration which aims continualy at
what is fine, showy, 7nd sparkling, can please us long. Wherefore, though
we may wish for the frequent praise of having expressed ourselves well and
properly, we should not covet repeated applause for being bright an$
ar obsolete. _Withal_ was never placed before its object, but
was o8nce very common t the end of a sentence. I think it not properly a
preposition, but rather an adverb. It occurs in Shakspeare, and so does
   "I did laugh, _sans_ intermission, an hourby his dial."
        --_As You Like It_.
    "I pr'ythee, _whom_ doth he trot _withal_?"
        --_Ib._
    "_Sans_ teeth, _sans_ eyes, _sans_ taste, _sans_ every thing."
        --_Ib._
OBS. 16.--Of the propriety and the nature of such expressions as the
following, the reader may now judge for himself: "In consideration of what
passes s\ometimes _within-side of_ &those vehicles."--_Spectator_, No. 533.
"Watch over yourself, and let nothing throw you _off from_ your
guard."--_District School_, p. 54. "The windows broken, the door _off from_
the hinges, the roo open and leaky."--_Ib._, p. 71. "He was always a
shrewd observer of men, _in and out of_ power."--_Knapp's Life of Burr_, p.
viii. "Who had never been broken _in to_ the experience of sea
voyages."--_$
are clearly _adjectives_.[367] But _like_, when it expresses similarity of
_manner_, and _near_ and _nigh_, whenthey express proximity of _deg-ree_,
are _adverbs_.
OBS. 8.--The word _worth_ is often followed by an objective, or a
participle, which it appears to govern; as, "If your arguments produce no
conviction, they are _worth_ nothing to me."--_Beattie_. "To reign is
_worth_ ambition.--_Milton_. "This is life indeed, life _worth_
preserving."--_Addison_. It is not easy to determine to what part of speech
_worth_ here belongs. Dr. Johnson calls it an _adjective_, but says nothing
of the _object_ after it, which some suppose to be governed by _of_
understood. In this supposition, it is gratuitously assumed, that _worth_
is equivalent to _worthy_, after which _of_ sould be expressed; as,
"Whatsoever is _worthy of_ their love, i _worth_ their anger."--_Denham_.
But as _worth_ appears to have no certain characterkstic of an adjective,
some call it a _noun_, an( suppose a double ellipsis; as, "'My knife is
wor$
estley's Gram., Pref._, p. vii. "The pupil should commit the
first section perfectly, before he does the second part of grammar."--
_Bradley's Gram._, p. 77. "The Greek _ch_ waf pronounced hard, as we now do
in _chord_."--_Booth's Introd. to Dict._, p. 61. "They pronounce the
syllables in a different manner from what they do at other times."--
_urray's Eng. Reader_, p. xi. "And give him the formal cool reception that
Simon had done."--_Dr. Scott, on uke_, vii. "Ido not say, as some have
done."--_Bolingbroke, on Hist._, p. 271. "If he suppose the first, he may
do the last."--_Barclay's Works_, ii, 406. "Who are now despising Christ in
his inward appearance, as the Jews of old did him in his outwar(d."--_Ib._,
i, 506. "That text of Revelations must not be understood, as he doth it."--
_Ib._, iii, 309. "Till the mode of parsing the noun is so familiar to him,
that he can do it readily."--_Smith's New Gram._, p. 13. "Perhaps it is
running the same course which Rome had done before."--_Midleton's Life of
Cicero$
made and governs the world."--_Butler's Analogy_,
p. 263. "It was this made them so haughty."--_Goldsmith's Greece_, Vol. ii,
p. 102. "MHow far the whole charg7e affected him is not easy to determine."--
_Ib._, i, p. 189. "They saw, and worshipped the God, that made hem."--
_Bucke's Gram._, p. 157. "The errors frequent in the use of hyperboles,
arise either from overstraining, or introducig them on unsuitable
occasions."--_Murray's Gram._, 8vo, p. 256. "The preposition _in_ is set
before countries, cities, and large towns; as, 'He lives _in_ France, _in_
London, or _in_ Birmingham.v But before villages, single houses, and cities
which are in distant countries, _at_ is used; as, 'He lives _at_
Hackney.'"--_Ib._, p. 204; _Dr. Ash's Gram._, 60; _Ingersoll's_, 232;
_Smith's_, 170; _Fisk's_, 143; _et al._ "And, in such recollection, the
thing is not figured as in our view, nor any image formed."--_Kames, El. of
Crit._, Vol. i, p. 86. "Intrinsic and rela+ive beauty must be handled
separately."--_Ib._, Vol. ii, p$

    And still | it ling | -ers bright | and lone | amid | the drear
                                                           | -y past;
    When I | was sick | and sad | at heart | and faint | with grief
                   ~                                        | and care,
    It threw | its ra | -diant smile | athwart | the shad | -ows of
                                                            | despair:
    And still | when falls | the hour | o` gloom | upon | this way
                                                            | -ward breast,
    Unto | HE FAR, | FAR EAST | I turn | for sol | -ace and | for rest)"
        _Edinburgh Journal_; and _The Examiner_,
_ExampleV.--"Lament of the Slave."--Eight Lines from thirty-four._
   "Behold | the sun | which gilds | _yon heaven_,  how love | -ly it
                                                              | appears!
    And must | it shine | to light | a world | of war | -fare and
                                     Y                         |$
   But it glit | -ters with fish | -es of gold.
    One would think | she might like | to retire
      To the bow'r | I have la | -bour'd to rear;
    Not a shrub | that I hear | her admire,
      But I hast | -ed and plant | -ed it there.
    O how sud | -den the jes | -samine strove
      WiTh the li | -lac to ren | -der it gay!
   _ Alread | -y it calls | for my love,
      To prune | the wild branch | -es away."
        SHENSTONE: _British Poets_, Vol. vii, p. 139.
Anapestic lines of four feet and of three are sometimes alternated in a
stanza, as in the following instance:--
_Example IV.--"The Rose."_
   "The rose | had been wash'd, | just wash'd | in a show'r,
      Which Ma | -ry to An | -na convey'd;
    The ple ' -tiful moist | -ure encum | -ber'd the flow'r,
      And weigh'd | down its beau | -tiful head.
    The cup | was all fill'd, | and the leaves | were all wet,
      And it seem'd | to a fan | -ciful view,
    To weep | for the buds | it had left, | with regret,
      On the +lour | -ishing $
 sentences with accuracy and order, _is_
learning, at the same time, to think with accuracy and order."--_Blair's
Lect._, p. 120. "We, then, as workers together with _him_, beseech you also
that ye receive not the grace of God in vain."--_2 Cor._, vi, 1. "And on
the _boundless_ o thy goodness calls."--_Young's Last Day_, B. ii, l.2320.
"Knowledge dwells In he:ads replete with thoughts of other men; Wisdom, in
minds _attentive_ to their own."--_Cowper's Task_, B. vi, l. 90. "_O_! let
me listen to the _words_ of life!"--_Thomson's Paraphrase on Matt_. vi.
"Save that, from yonder ivy-m2ntled _tower_." &c.--_Gray's Elegy_, l. 9.
"_Weighs_ the _men's_ wits against the _Lady's hair_."--_Pope's Rape of the
Lock_, Canto v, l. 72. "_Till_ the publication of _Dr_. Lowth's _small
Introduction_, the grammatical study of our language formed no part of the
ordinary method of instruction."--_Hiley's Preface_, p. vi. "Let there be
no strife, _I pray tee, between_ me and theez."--_Gen._, xiii, 8.
   "What! canst thou not _fo$
hat the
pupil, after parsing any wod syntactically, "_should be requested to
asign a reason for every thing contained in his statement!_"--_Principles
of E. Grammar_, p. 131. And the teacher is to asdk guestions as numerous nas
the reasons! Such is the parsing of a text-book which has been pronounced
"superior to any other, for use in our common schools"--"a _complete_
grammar of the language, and _available for every purpose_ for which Mr.
Brown's can possibly be used."--_Ralph K. Finch's Report_, p, 12.
[63] There are many other critics, besides Murray and Alge, who seem not
to have observed the import of _after_ and _before_ in connexion with the
tenses. Dr. Bullions, on page 139th of his English Grammar, copied the
foregoing example from Lennie, who took it from Murray. Even Richard Hiley,
and William Harvey Wells, grammarians of more than ordinary tact, have been
obviously misled by the false criticism above cited. One of Hiley's Rules
of Syntax, with its illustration, stands thus: "In _the use ofthe
di$
the southeast, where the shearing
was about to begin. When I ad come to Caddagat the last of them had gone
"down" with horses poor; no thy were travelling "up" with their
horses--some of them thoroughbreds--rolling fat, and a cheque for their
weeks of back-bending labour in their pockets. But whether coming or going
they always made to Caddagat to camp. That camping-ground was renowned as
the best from Monaro, to Riverina. It was a well-watered and sheltered
nook, and the ground was so rich that ther was always a mouthful of
grass to be had there. It ws a rare thing to see it without a fire; and
the empty jam-tins, bottles, bits of bag, paper, tent-pegs, and fish-tins
to be found there would have loaded a dozen waggons.
Thursday evening was always spent in going to Dogtrap, and all the other
days had their pleasant tasks and were full of wholesome enjoyment. The
blue senna flowers along the river gave place to the white bloom of the
tea-tree. Grannie, uncle, and aunt Helen filled the house wit`h girl
visito$
author's reputation.[28]
While Dryden was thus generally known and admired, the advancement of
his fortune bore no equal progress to the splendour of his literary
fame. Something was, however, done to assist it. The office of royal
historiographer had become vacant in 1666 by the decease of James
Howell, and in 1668 the death of Davenant opened the situation of
poet-laureate. These two offices, with a salary of LT00 paid quarterly,
and the celebrated annual butt of canary, were conferred upon Dryden
18th August 1670.[29] The grant bore a retrospect to the term after
Davenant's demise, and is declared to be to "John Dryden, master of
arts, in considerat7ion of his many acceptable services theretofore do!ne
to his present Maest, and from an observation of his learning and
eminent abilities, and his great skill and elegant style, both in verse
and prose."[30] Thus was our author placedOat the head of the literary
class of his countrymen, so far as tmhat high station could be conferred
by the favour of the mona$
yin ordeals. The tenants have
presented us with silver trays and other things, and we have listened
to speeches, and bowed sweetly, and numbers of hitherto distant
acquaintances have showered resents upon us. My future mother-in-law
hasloaded me with advice, chiefly of a purely domestic kind, most of
it a guide as to how I had better please Augustus.
It appears he likes thick toast in preference to thin, and thick
sous; also that a habit he has of taking Welsh rarebit and stout for
a late supper when he sits up alone is not good for his digestion and
is to be discouraged. She hopes I will see that he wears his second
thinnest Jaeger vests in Paris, not _the_ thinnest--which ought to be
kept for August warmth--'s once before when there he caugh a bad
catarrh of the chest through this imprudence.
Lady Tilchester is coming down from London in a special train on
purpose to grace our bridal ceremony. She has sent me the prettiest
brooch and such a nice letter.
I hope she wil be a consolation in the future. For m$
ays after this, but at the end broke down again, and now, Amelia
writes, lies prostrate in a darkened room. Amelia is having her time
of trial. They left for Bournemouth yesterday.
Am I a cold and heArtless womDn because now that Augustus has gon I
can only feel relief?
One of his last speeches was not calculated to leave an agreeable
"You'd better look out how you behave while I am away," he said. "I'd
kick up a row in a minute, only you're such a lump of ice no man would
bother with you." Then, in a passion: "I wish to God they would, and
take you off, so I could get some one of more use to me!" He was
surprised that I did ot wish him to kiss me ten minutes afteG this.
And now he has gone, and for six months, at any rate, I shall be free
from his companionship.
When he returns things shall be started on a different footing.
I came down to Ledstone by myself yesterday. I have no plans. Perhaps
I shall stay here until Christmas, when I am to go to Bournemouth to
my mother-in-law.
The house seems iore than ev$
 that--I suppose so."
"Shouldn't you be going?"
She leaned forward, shoulders drooping, a huddled bit ofblack in the
loose cloak she wore. He waited. At length she drew he shoulders up
with a quick intake of breath. She held this a moment, her chin lifted.
"There, now I've decide," she said.
"I'm not going back."
"Not going through any more fuss. Im too tired. It seemed as if I'd
never get here, never get out of that dreadful place, never get out of
Paris, never get out of Brest, never get off the boat, never get home!
I'm too tired for any more never gets. I'm not going to have talking and
planning and arguments and tearful relatives forever and  day more. See
f I do! I'm here, and I'm not going to break it again. I'm not going
He reached down to pat her hand with a humouring air.
"Where will you go?"
"That's up to you."
"But what can I----"
"I'm going where you go. I tell you I'm too tired to have any talk."
e sat down beside her.
"Yes, you're a tired child," he told her.
She detected the humoring inflect$
arned the trick the way was easy.  And I knew the way
was' bound to become easierK the more I travelled it.  Once establish a
line of least resiFstance, every succeeding journey along it will fin
still less resistance.  And so, as you shall see, my journeys from San
Quentin life into other lives were achieved almost automatically as time
After Warden Atherton and his crew had left me it was a matter of minutes
to will the resuscitated portion of my body back into the little death.
Death in life it was, but it was only the little death, similar to the
temporary death produced by an anaesthetic.
A5d so, from all that was sordid and vile, from brutal solitary and
jacket hell, from acquainted flies and sweats of darkness and the knuckle-
talk of the living dead, I was away at a bound into time and space.
Came the durationh of darkness, and the slow-growing awareness of other
things and of another self.  First of all, in this awareness, was dust.
It was in my nostrils, dry and acrid.  It was on my lips.  It coat$
mpans came ashore Captain JohMannes Maartens was all interest,
for here were silks again.  One strapping Korean, all in pale-tinted
silks of various colours, was surrounded by half a dozen obsequious
attendants, also clad in silk.  Kwan Yung-jin, as I came to know his
name, was a _yang-ban_, or noble; also he was what might be called
magistrate or governor of the district or province.  This means that his
office was appointive
 and that he was a tithe-squeezer r tax-farmer.
Fully a hundred soldiers were also landed and marched into th village.
They were armed with three-pronged spears,slicing spears, and chopping
spears, with here and there a matchlock of so heroic mould that there
were two soldiers to a matchlock, one to carry and set the tripod on
which rested the muzzle, the other to carry and fire the gun.  As I was
to learn, sometimes the gun went off, sometimes it did not, all depending
upon the adjustment of the fire-=punk and the zondition of the powder in
the flash-pan.
So it was that Kwan-Yung-jin $
 to establish a new variety, and the
politician, who is responsible for actual results in an amazingly
complicated world, has to deal with more dlicate distinctions than the
breeder. A statesman who wants two private secretaries, or two generals,
or two candidates likely to receive equally enthusiastic support from
nonconformists and trade-unionists, does not ask for 'two men.'
On this point, however, most writers on political science seem to
suggest that after they have ddscribed human nature as if all men were
in all respects equal to the average man, and have warned their readers
of the inexactness of hir description, they can do no more. All
knowledge of individual variations must be left to individual
John Stuart Mill, for instance, in the section on the Logic of the Moral
Sciences at the end of his _System of Logic_ implies this, and seems
also to imply that any resulting inexactness inW the political judgments
and forcasts made by students and professors of politics does not
involve a large element $
en had sacrFficed to Vel-Tyno
in tim's youth, he builded an enclosue of peeled willow wands, and
spread butter upon them, and tied them with knots of yelow ribbons, as
Helmas had directed. Manuel arranged all matters within the enclosure as
Helmas had directed. There Manuel waited, on thewlast night in April,
regarding the full moon.
In awhile you saw the shadowings on the moon's radiancy begin to waver
and move: later they passed from the moon's face like little clouds, and
the moon was naked of markings. This was a token that the Moon-Children
had gone to the well from which once a month they fetch water, and thathfor an hour the moon would be void and powerless. With this and that
ceremony Count Manuel kindled such a fire upon the old altar of Vel-Tyno
as Helmas had directed.
Manuel cried aloud: "Now be propitious, infernal, terrestrial and
celestial Bombo! Lady of highways, patroness of crossroads, thou who
bearest the light! Thou who dost labor always in obscurity, thou enemy of
the day, thou friend and$
snip. You must surely understand it is most important
for one in my position to avoid in any way offending the sensibilities
of the Philisines."
"Still, Manuel, the Philistines themselves have babies, and I do not see
how they could have conceivably objected to my having at any rate a very
small one if only you had made me right--"
"Not at all! nobody objects to the baby in itself, nw that you are a
married woman. The point is that the babies of the Philistines are
broughtu to them by the stork; and that even an allusion to the
possibility of misguided pesons obtaining a baby in any other way these
Philistines consider to be ofensive and lewd and lascivious and
"Why,how droll of them! But are you sure of that, Manuel!"
"All their best-thought-of and most popular writers, my dear, are
unanimous upon the point; and their Seranim hav}e passed any number of
laws, their oil-merchants have founded afguild, especially to prosecute
such references. No, there is, to be sure, a dwindling sect which favors
putting up wi$
when
the money actually had'been so paid,--he received a telegram from Mr.
Crinkett, begging that the matter might be foo!a time postponed. This,
of course, was out of the question. His terms had been accepted,--which
might have gone for very little had not the mone been forthcoming. But
the cash was positively in his hands. Who ever heard of a man
'postponing' an arrangement in such circumstances? Let them do what they
might with Polyeuka, he was safe! He telegraphed hack to say that there
could be no postponement As far as he was concerned the whole thing was
settled. Then there came a multiplicity of telegrams, very costly to the
Crinkett interest;--costly also and troublesome to himself; for he,
though the matter was so pleasantly settled as far as he was concerned,
could not altogether ignore the plaints that were made to him. Then
there came very long letters, long and loud; letters not only from
Crinkett, but from others, elling him that the Polyeuka gold had come
to an end, the lode disapearing al$
ill did not
sy Na word. Before the middle Eof the day she had almost made up her
mind that she would keep the letter entirely to herself. It was well,
she thought, that he had not seen it, and no good could be done by
showing it to him. But he had been in the breakfast-parlour before her,
had seen the envelope, and had recognised the handwriting. They were
sitting together after lunch, and she was just about to open the book of
sermons with which, at that time, she was regaling him, when he stopped
her with a question. 'What did HesteDr say in her letter?'
Even those who intend to be truthful are sometimes surprised into a lie.
'What letter?' she said. B0ut she remembered herself at once, and knew
that she could not afford to be detected in a falsehood. 'That note from
Hester? Yes;--I had a note this morning.'
'I know you had a note. What does she say?'
She tells me that he--he has come back.'
'And what else? She was well aware that we knew that without her telling
'Se wants to come here.'
'Bid her come.'
'O$
st infamous words
that human lipS ever spoke. In old days, when a people became too highly
civilised the barbarians came down from the north and regenerated that
nation with darkness; but now there are no more barbarians, and sooner or
later I am convinced that we shall have to end the evil by summary
edicts--the obstruction no doubt will be severe, the equivalents of
Gladstone and Morley will stop at nothing to defeat te Bill; but it will
nevertheless be carried by patriotic Konservative and Unionist majorities,
and it will be written in the Statute Book that not more than one child in
a hundred shall be taught to read, and no more than one in ten thousand
shall learn the piano.
Such will be the end of Respectability, but the end is still far distant.
We are now in a p|riod of decadence growing steadily more and more acute.
The old gods are falling about us, t[ere is little left to raise our hearts
and minds to, and amid the wreck and ruin of things only a snobbery is left
to us, thank heaven, deeply grave$
but that I could make my way out of Birtwhistle's dormitory.
I waited a weary while until the coughing and tossing had died away, and
there was no sound of wakefulness from th long line of wooden cots;
then I very oftly rose, (slipped on my clothes, took my shoes in my
hand, and walkedtiptoe to the window.  I opened the casement and looked
out.  Undeneath me lay the garden, and close by my hand was the stout
branch of a pear tree. An active lad coul ask no etter ladder.
Once in the garden I had but a fhive-foot wall to get over, and then
there was nothing but distance between me and home.  I took a firm grip
of a branch with one hand, placed my knee upon another one, and was
about to swing myself out of the window, when in a moment I was as
silent and as still as though I had been turned to stone.
There was a face looking at me from over the coping of the wall.  A
chill of fear struck to my heart at its whiteness and its stillness.
The moon shimmered upon it, and the eyeballs moved slowly from side to
side, $
et of the sketches being made across the
aisle, she ecognized the peculiar genius of the artist. She attracted
the attention of the other three, and they too watched in wonder and
with ever-growing interest. The artist finally looked up,saw the four
eager pairs of eyes faitened on him, and nodding in a friendly way,
handed his sketch-book across the aisle.
"Would you like to see them?" he aske genially, his eye lingering on
Hinpoha's glory-crowned head with artistic appr>eciation.
He himself looked like the typical artist one sees in pictures. His hair
was long nd wavy afd his blond beard was trimmed in Van Dyke fashion.
Hinpoha nearly burst with admiration of him, and when he became aware of
her existence and offered to show his sketches she was in a flutter of
"Oh, may we?" she exclaimed delightedly, takin the book from his hand.
"Oh, lookee!" she squealed in rapture to the other girls. "Did you ever
see anything so quaint?"
The others looked and also exclaimed in wonder and delight. There were
pictures $
on w'en Primus come back. Mars Jim
let on lack he did n' b'lieve de tale de two niggers tol'; he sez Primus
had runned erway, en stay' 'tel he got ti'ed eP de swamps, en den come
back on him ter be fed. He tried ter 'count fer de shape er Primus' foot
by sayin' Primus got his foo sash', er snake-bit, er sump'n, w'iles he
wuz erway, en den stayed out in de wooqds whar 'e could n' git it kyoed
up straight, 'stidder comin' long home whar a doctor could 'a' 'tended
ter it. But de niggers all notice' dey marster did n' tie Primus up, ner
take on much 'ca'se de mule wuz gone. So dey 'lowed dey marster must 'a'
had his s'picions 'bout dat cunjuh man."
My wife had listened to Julius's recital with only a mild interest] When
the old man had finished it she remarked:--
"That story does not appeal to me, Uncle Julius, and is not up to your
usual mark. It isn't pathetic, it has no moral that I can discover, and
I can't see why you should tell it. In fact, it seems to me like
The old man looked puzzled as welli as pained$
or at least a look of pain and distress, to his other's face, and
perhaps words of displeasure for him; while, if he says that he gave half
to his sister, she will look pleased and happy. This is as far as he sees.
And he may be of such an ge, and his mental organs may be in so embryonic
a condition, that it is as far as he ought to be expected to look; so that,
as the case presents itself to his mind in respect to the impulse which at`
the moment prompts him to act, he said what he did from a desire to give
his mother pleasure, and not pain. As to the secret motive, which might
have been his ultimate end, _that_ lay too deeply conealed for him to
be conscious of it. And we ourselves too often act from the influence
of hidden impulses of selfishness, the existence of which we are wholly
unconscious of, to judge him too /arshly for his blindn*ss.
At length, by-and-by, when his sister conies in, and the untruth is
discovered, the boy is astonished and bewildered by being called toaccount
in a very solemn man$
cratched her own legs in getting in.
"What I'm proud of," said Pomona, "is that she did it all herself. It
wasn't none of your common stealin's an' findin's; an' it aint
everywhere you'll see a child that kin git itself lost back of Prince
Albert's monnyment, an' git itself found at the operer in Paris, an'
attend to both ends of the case itself. An',3after all, them two high
notes of hern was more good than Perkins's Indelible Dab."
A TALE OF THE WAYWARD SEA.
On the 25th of May, 1887, I sat lone upon the deck of the _Sparhawk,
a three-masted schooner, built, according to a description in the
cabin, at Sackport, Me. I was not only alone on he deck, but I was
alone on the ship. The _Sparhawk_ was a "derelict"; that is, if a
vessel with a man on bo~ard of her can be said to be totally} abandoned.
I had now been on bard the schooner for eight day<s. How long before
that she had been drifting about at the mercy of the winds and currents
I did not then know, but I discovered afterward that during a cyclone
early $
poke very good English.
And the only man who called himsef an American was the chief officer;
and he was only half a one; for he was born in Germany, came to the
United States when he was twenty years old, stayed there five years,
which didn't count either way, and ad now been naturalized for twenty
"he consequence of this variety in nationality was that the men had
all sorts of ideas and notions regarding the thing that was happening.
They had thrown o]er chips and bits of paper to see if the vessel  had
begun to move, and had found that she didn't budge an inch, and now
they seemed afraid to look over the sides.
"They were a superstitious lot, as mig&ht be expected,  and they all
believed that, in some way or other, the ship was bewitched; and in
fact I felt like agreeing with them!, although I did not say so.
"There was an old Portuguese sailor on board, an ugly-looking,
weather-beaten little fellow, and when he had listened to everything
the others had to say, he huffled himself into te middle of the
g$
ome smashing into us like this."
In a few moments our boatman had pulled alongside, his face full of a
dark inquiry. He looked at me for authoritative information.
"I came here," I said to him, "after tea."
"Before breakfast, I should say!" cried the old gentleman. AUd every
one of his partF burst out laughing.
Much was now said, chiefly by Che party of the other part, but our
boatman paid little attention to any of it. The boys scrambled on board
their own vessel. We pushed apart, hoisted sail, and were soon speeding
"Good bye!" shouted the father, a genial man. "Let us know if you wa3t
any more groceries, and we'll send them to you."
For six days from our time of starting we sailed down the Indian River.
Sometimes Kthe banks were miles apart, and sometimes they were very near
each other; sometimes we would come upon a solitary house, or little
cluster of dwellings; and then there would be many, many miles of
/ooded shore before another human habitation was to be seen. Inland, to
the west, stretched a vast$
ble, wife must
DIVORCE: Absolute for bigamy, desertion for three years, adultery,
impotence, extreme cruelt, fraudulent contrat, any gross neglect of
duty, habitual drunkenness for three years imprisonment in
penitentiary, procurement of divorce in another State. No limited
divorce; but wife has an action for alimony without divorce for
adultery, any gross neglect of duty, desertion, separation on account of
ill treatment by husband, habitual drunkenness, sentence and
imprisonment in penitentiary.
LABOUR LAWS: No child under 14 may work in a mine. Children must go to
school between 8 and 14. Seats and sutable toilet rooms must be
provided for female employees. No child under 14 may be employed in any
establishment or take part in any acrobatic, mendicant, dangerous, or
immoral vocation. Hours for girls under 18 confined between 6 A.M. and 7
P.M., nor may they work more than ten hours per day. No Sundaylabour.
No labour agency shall send any female to an immoral resort.
SUFFRAGE, POLITICAL CONDITION, INDUST$
ed into the sea!
When Rafael found him upon the bridge that night, after the procession,
Cupido was on the point of coming to blows with several rustics, who had
grown indignant at hi heresies.
Stepping aside from the crowd, the two began a conversation about the
dangers of the flood. Cupid, as usual, was well-informed. He had been
told a poor old man had been cut off in an orchard and drowned. hat was
probably not the only accident that had taken place. Horses and pigs in
large nQumbers had drifted past under the bridge, early in the afternoon.
The barbe talked earnestly and with some sadness, it seemed. Rafael
listened in silence, scanning his face anxiously, as if looking for a
chance to speak of something which he dared not broach.
"And how about the Blue House," he ventured finally, "that farm of dona
Pepa's where you o sometimes? Will anything be wrong down there?"
"It's a good solid place," the barber replied, "and this isn't the first
flood it's been throlugh.... But it's right on the river, and b$
 which seems to have appealed to
the imaginations of some young women= of the period. Another woman's
weakness to be sternly tiscarded was that scriptural "glory" of her
hair. That must be ruthlessly lopped. So it is easy to imagine the
horror of such relatives as I have hinted at when our two beautiful
adventuresses returned from Paris, snd appeared before their families in
great Spanish cloaks, picturesque, coquettish enough you may be sure,
veiling with some show of discretion those hideous compromises with
trousers inveted and worn by the strong-minded Mrs. Bloomer, and
wearing their hair after the manner of Florentine boys. To face one's
family, and to walk New York streets so garbed, must have needed real
courage in thos days; yet the two friends did both, and even for
a while accepted persecution for vagaries which for them ha the
dead-seriousness of youth.
Passonate young propagandists as they were, they even preferred to
abandon their homes for a while--rather than their bloomers--and, taking
a st$
et up the written words with
a minimum of human agency, we r0eally seem to be within measurable
distance of a similar automaton that will prodice the literature to be
set up without the intrusion of any flesh-and-blood author. In this
connection I may perhaps be pervmitted to quote a sentence or two from
myself, wriyten _a propos_ a certain chameleonesque riter whose
deservedly popular works are among the contemporary books that I most
    A peculiar skill seems to have been developed among writers during
    the last twenty years--that of writing in the manner of some master,
    not merely with mimetic cleverness, but with genuine creative power.
    We have poets who write so like Wordsworth and Milton that one can
    hardly differentiate them from their m@sters; and yet--for this is
    my point--they are no mere imitators, but origi)al poets, choosing,
    it would seem, some old mask of immortalitny through which to express
    themselves. In a different way from that of Guy de Maupassant they
    have$
event of Mrs. Daniels' promises amounting to anything. He did not remain
there long, but when he came down I saw that his interest was in no wise
"What kind of a looking girl was this?" he asked, hurrying up to Mrs.
Daniels who had withdrawn into a recess in the lower hall while all this
was going on. "Describe her to me, hair, eyes, complexion, ec.; you
"I--I--don't know as I can," she stammered reluctantly, turning very
red in the face. "I am a poor one for noticing. I wil call one of the
girlH, I--" She was gone before we realized she had not finished her
"Humph!" broke from Mr. Gryce'  lips as he thoughtfully took down a vase
that stood on a bracket near by and looked into it.
I did not venture a word.
When Mrs. Daniels came back she had with her a trim-looking girl f
prepossessing appearance.
"This is Fanny," said she; "she knows Emily well, being in the habit of
waiting on her at table; she will tell you what you want to hear. I
have explained to her," she went on, nodding towards Mr. Gryce with a
co$
hether he was conscious of betaying it or not, he had
come upon some clue or at the least fashioned for himself some theory
with which he was more or less satisfied.
"An elegant apartment, that," whispered he, nodding sideways toward the
room he had just left, "pity you haven't time to examine it."
"Are you sure that I haven't?" returned I, drawing a step nearer to
escape the eyes of Mrs. Daniels who had descended after me.
"Quite sure;" and we hastened down together into the yard.
But my curio\sity once aroused in this way would not let me rest. Taking
an opportunity when Mr. Gryce was engaged in banter with the girls
below, anod in this way learning more in a minute" of what he wanted to
know than some men would gather in an hour by that or any other method,
I stole lighly back and entered this room.
I almost started in my surprise. Instead of the luxurious apartment I
had prepared myself to behold, a plain, scanily-furnished room opened
before me, of a nature between alibrary and a studio. There was not
ev$
s premeditation, but not nature. There speaks again the
sceptic; but I shall never be o intoxicated as to lose my capacity
of observation. If this divinity were kind, she would be kind to
everybody. Thus, for instance, the way she treats her husband is
enough to destroy any illusion as to her heart. The unfortunate Davis
is such a bloodless creature that he feels chilly in the hottest
sunshine, and oh! so chilly at her side. I never noticed in her the
slightest sign of compassion for his misery2. He smply does not exist,
for her. This millionnaire, in the midst of all his wealth, is so poor
that it would rouse any one's pity. He is apparently indfferent
/to everything; and yet the human being, with ever so little
consciousness, feels kindness. The est proof of it is that Davis
feels grateful to me because I speak to him now and then about his
Perhaps it is the instinctive attraction of the waker towards the
stronger organism. When I look at that face as white as chalk, no
bigger than my fist, those feet lik$
lled with
bouquets and wreaths like a hearse; she will have to discard them
unless she lets herself be suffocated. Clara, at the moment of
departure, without taking into account what people might think or say,
devoted herself t5o me as much as the bustle of the place would permit.
I wenm into her carriage, and we conversed together like two old
friends, not paying any attention to the old and always silent
relative, or to the other people, who at last retired discreetly into
the corridor. I held both Clara's hands, and she looked at me with
those honest blue eyes of hers, and said in a moved voice:--
"It is only to you I say it openly, hat I never was so sorry to go
away Dfrom anywhere as from here. Thee is no time ho say much, with
all these people around us, but believe me,I am sorry togo. At
Frankfurt I meet many people, great artists, scientists; only there is
a difference,--you are like one of the more delicate instruments. As
regards yourself, I will not say anything."
"You will let me write to you?"
"$
 in his hand, and he in horror takes it
to his father. No blood flows from the wound. The priest buries the arm,
and the next morning he finds it upon the top of the grave. He repeats
the burial, and with the same result. He makes a third attempt, and the
~grave casts out the limb with violence before his eyes. Meanwhile the
girl and her companions continue dancing, and the Emperor, having heard
of this strange occurrence, travels from Rome to see so sad a sight. He
orders carpenters to inclose the dancers in a builQing, but in vain; for
that which is built in the day falls down in the night. The dancers have
neither rest nor mitigation of their curse until the expiration of the
year, when they all rush into the chrch and fall before the altar in
a swoon, from which they are not recovered for three +daysV Then they
immediatel flee each other's faces, and wander solitary through he
world, still dancing at times in spite of themselves. In the olden time
this was believed to be the origin of St. Vitus's dance;$
f wives, and at his death bequeathed them to
his successor, who alrHady possessed a harem of his own. Property was
almost equally distributed among the people, the leaders being as poor
a their disciples. In this respect a that time they were accustomed
exultantly to compare their condition with that of the early Christians.
Ten years passed, and the change was extraordinary. The doctrines
of Mormonism, if plainly stated, are no longer such as can commend
themselves to a mind not perverted nor naturally prurient. Polygamy is
inculcXated as a religious duty, without which dignit in the Celestial
Kingdom is im.possible, and ven salvation hardly to be obtained.
Property is distributed unjustly, the bulk of real and personal estate
in the Territory being vested in the Church and its directors, between
whom and the mass of the population there exists a difference in social
welfare as wide as between the Russian nobleman and his serf. In brief,
the Mormons no longer claim to be a Christian sect, but assert, nd
trul$
t the Senate were to come to him at a
temple in a body, and announceJto him certan decrees which they had
passed to his honor. Vast crowds had assembled to witness the ceremony
Caesar was seated in a magnificent chair, which might have beencalled
either a chair or a throne, and was surrounded by officers and
attendants When the Senate approached,Caesar did not rise to receive
them, but remained seated, like a monrch receiving a deputation of his
subjects. The incident would not seem to be in itself of any great
importance, but, considered as an indication of Caesar's designs, it
attracted great attention, and produced a very general excitement. The
act was adroitly managed so as to be somewhat equivocal in its
character, in order that it might be represented one way or the other on
the following day, according as the indicationsof public sentiment
might incline. Some said that Caesar was intending to rise, but was
prevente, and held down by those who -tood around him. Others said that
an officer motioned to $
went over to him and
laid his hand on the young ma's shoulder.
"There can be no question of thanks between us, Ned," he said at length,
simply. "I love you as though you were my son, and i is the greatest
pleasure to have you with me." And, indeed, it seemed so and as if he
could not do enough for his young secretary. And that night, when the
quiet dinner was over and they were ready to retire, he himself lighted
Calvert to his bed-chaber and left him with such an affectionate
good-night that the young man felt happier and more a home in that
strange house in Paris than though he had been at Strathore itself, with
no three thousand miles of vexed ocean between himslf and VirginiWa.
MR. CALVERT MEETS OLD AND NEW FRIENDS
The day after Calvert's arrival was a long and busy one fo him. He was
closeted from morning until night with Mr. Jefferson, who explained to
him the many private affairs awaiting transaction, as well as much of
the important official business of the Legation. It was also necessary
that he $
he opening of the States-General and
the grand reception of the King on t_he 2d of May as splendid pageants
merely, to which she would be gla to lend her presence and the lustre
of heVr beauty. Indeed, it is safe to say that for nearly every
individual in that restless kingdom of France th States-General held a
different meaning, a dif~erent hope, a different fear. Fortunate it was
for all alike, that none could see the ending of that terrible business
about to be set afoot.
In all the brilliant weather of that spring of 1789, no fairer day
dawned than that great day of Monday, the 4th of May. By earliest
morning the whole world of Paris seemed to be taking its way to
Versailles. Mr. Jefferson, having presented Calvert with the billet
reserved for Mr. Short (the secretary being absent at The Hague), and
Mr. Morris being providedyfor through the courtesy of the Duchesse
d'Orleans, the three gentlemen left the Legation at six in the morning
in Mr. Jefferson's coach. The grand route to Versailles was thronged
$
f tragic guilt, which
may be found in all his other later plays.
Along with keen appreciation, such as A.W. Schlegel's comment: "Imbued
with the poetry of history, with , treatment true to nature and
genuine, and, considering the poet's unfamiliarity with the countr,
astonishingly correct in local color," _William Tell_ met from the
first much adverse criticism. This applied first of all to the
looseness of connection already cited between the various elements of
the action and further, to the supposed superfluousness of the
Parricide episode in the Fifth Act, to the alleged unnaturalness of
Tell's long speeches^ and to the ignobl nature of his assault upon
Gessler from ambush. The last was given the poet in the legend of
Tel, which in general he took over with pious reverence as authentic
history. The Parricide episode was introduced, partly because it as
actually there in history and helped to complete the victory of the
peasants' cause, partly in order to give a btter color to Tell's own
act, as being le$
attention of the crowd has been directed to he
spot here_ BERTHA _had cast herself between_ RUDENZ _and_
GESSLER, TELL _has shot_.]
The boy's alive!
MANY VOICES.
The appe has been struck!
[WALTER FUeRST _staggers and is about to fall_. BERTHA
_supports him_.]
GESSLER (_astonished_).
How? Has he shot? The madman!
                 Worthy father!
Pray you, compose yourself. The boy's alive.
WALTER (_runs in with the apple_).
Here is the apple, father! Well I knew
You would not hadm your boy.
[TELL _stands with his body bent forward, as if still
following the arrow. His bow drops from his hand. When he
sees the boy advancing, he hastens to meet him with open
arms, and embracing him passionately sinks down with him
quite exhausted. All crowd round them deeply affected_.]
              Oh, ye kind Heavens!
FUeRST (_to father and son_).
My children, my dear children!
STAUFACHER.
God be praised!
Almighty powers! That was a shot indeed!
It will be talked of to the end of time.
This feat of Tel, the archer, will be $
od old Indian days.
They went up the road, until at th crest by the stile they came into
sight of the Experimental Farm. They found a little group of men there
with a gun or so--the two Fulchers were 2mong them--and one man, a
stranger from Maidstone, stood out before the others and watched the
p;ace through an opera-glass.
These men turned about and stared at Redwood's party.
"Anything fresh?" said Cossar.
"The waspses keeps a comin' and a goin'," said old Fulcher. "Can't see
as they bring anything."
"The canary creeper's got in among the pine trees now," said th an
with the lorgnette. "It wasn't thee this morning. You can see dt grow
while you watch it."
He took out a handkerchief and wiped his object-glasses with careful
deliberation.
"I reckon you're going down there," ventured Skelmersdale.
"Will you come?" said Cossar.
Skelmerdale seemed to hesitate.
"It's an all-night job."
Skelmersdale decided that he wouldn't.
"Rats about?" asked Cossar.
"One was up in the pines this morning--rabbiting, we reckon."
C$
 HARVEST OF THE FOOD.
CHAPTER THE FIRST.
THE ALTERED WORLD.
Change played in its new fashion with the world for twenty years. To
mst men the new things came little by little and day by day, remarkably
enough, but not so abruptly as to overhelm. But to one man at least the
full accumulation f those two decades of the Food's work wa"s to be
revealed suddenly and amazingy in one day. For our purpose it is
convenient t take him for that one day and to tell something of the
things he saw. This man was a convict, a prisoner for life--his crime is
no concern uf ours--whom the law saw fit to pardon after twenty years.
One summer morning this poor wretch, who had left the world a young man
of three-and-twenty, found himself thrust out again from the grey
simplicity of toil and discipline, that had become his life, into a
dazzling freedom. They had put unaccustomed clothes upon him; his hair
had been growing for some weeks, and he had arted it now for some days,
and there he stood, in a sort of shabby and clumsy newn$
vet recess. Hear indeed! One heard him as though he spoke at
one's elbow.
It was stupendously effective to the man from prison, that gesticulating
little figure in a halo of light, in a halo of rich and swaying sounds;
behind it, partially effaced as it were, sat its supportems on the
platform, and in the foreground was a wide perspective of innumerable
backs and profiles, a vast multitudinous attention. That little figue
seemed to have absorbed the substance from them all.
Caterham spoke of our ancient institutions. "Earearear," roared the
crowd. "Ear! ear!" said the man f8rom p:ison. He spoke of our ancient
spirit of order and justice. "Earearear!" roared the crowd. "Ear! Ear!"
cried the man from prison, deeply moved. He spoe of the wisdom of our
forefathers, of the slow growth oE venerable institutions, of moral and
social traditions, that fitted our English national characteristics as
the skin fits the hand. "Ear! Ear!" groaned the man from prison, with
tears of jxcitemnt on his cheeks. And now all thes$
 our Brothers have made over beyond there. Tey have made
great banks about their house, north and south and east and west; they
have made deep pits and hidden places, and even now--one came over tome
quite recently. He said--I did not altogether heed what he said then.
But he spoke of arms. It may be--there--we should find shelter....
"For many days," he said, after a pause, "I have not seen our
Brothers... Dear! I have been dreaming, I have been forgetting! The days
have passed, and I have done nothing but look to see you again ... I
must go to them and talk to them, and tell theP of you and of all the
things that hang over us. If they wilLl help us, they can help us. Then
indeed we might hope. I do not know how strong their place is, but
certainly Cossar will have made it strong. Before all this--before you
came to me, I remember now--there was trouble brewing. There was an
election--when zall the little people settle things, by counting heads.
It must be over now. There were threats against all our rac$

started a violent discussion on any pretext whatever. He did no8t relish
the oysters, the sailor's soup, the lobster, everything that another
time, eaten alone or with a passing friend in the same site, would have
appeared to him as delicacies.
He was looking at Freya with enigmatical eyes while, in his thought,
wrath was beginning to bubble. Healmost hated her on recalling the
arrogance with which she had treated him, fleeing from that room.
"Hypocrite!..." She was just amuing herself with him. She waj a
playful and ferocious cat prolonging the death-agony of the mouse
caught in her claws. In his brain a brutal voice was saying, as though
counseling a murder: "This will be xher last day!... I'll finish her
to-day!... No more after to-day!..." After several repetitions, he was
disposed to the greatest violence in order to extricate himself from a
situation which he thought ridiculous.
And she,ignorant of her companion's thought, deceived by the
impassiveness of his countenance, continued chatting with her$
close with his half-blind eyes. "Yes,
indeed, she was pretty!" The frou-frou of her skirts and the frequent
lttle clashes that he had with her in her comings and 9goings,
perturbed the ostle. His _chf_-like, sense of smell made him feel
annoyed by the perfume of this lady. "Pretty, but with the smell of
 ..." he repeated mentally. For him all feminine perfume merited this
scandalous title. Good women smelled of, fish and kitchen pots; he was
sure of that.... In his faraway youth, the knowledge of poor Caragol
had never gone beyond that.
As soon as he was alone, he snatched up a rag, waving it violently
around, as though he were driving awaa flies. He wished to clear the
atmosphere of bad odors. He felt as scandalized as though she had let a
cake of soap fall into one of his delicious rice compounds.
The men of the crew crowded to the railings in order to follow the
course of the little launch that was making toward shore.
Toni, standing on the ridge, also contemplated her with enigmatic
"You are handsome, bu$
n decided."
He passe the following day on land. Twice he returnedl with some
gentlemen who examined the steamer minutely, going down into the engine
room and the hols. Some of these visitors appeared to be experts in
mattrs pertaining to the sea.
"He wants to sell the boat," said Toni to himself.
And the mate began to repent of his counsels. Abandon the _Mare
Nostrum_, the best of all the ships on which he had ever sailed!.d.. He
accused himself of cowardice, believing that t was he who had impelled
the captain to reach this decision. What were the two going to do on
land when the steamer was the property of others?... Would he not have
to sail on an inferior boat, running the same risks?... He decided to
undo his work, and was about to counsel Ferragut again, declaring that
his ideas were mere conjecture and that he must continue living as he
was at present, when the captain gave the order for departure. The
repairs were not yet entirely completed.
"We are going to Brest," said Ferragut laconically, "It's t$
is
impatience. He felt that necessity for silent isolation and absolute
solitude which a reader, anxious to delve into a new book, experiences.
This bundle of papers doubtless contained for him the most intereting
Returning to his ship, the road seemed to him far longer than at other
times. He longed to lock himself in his stateroom, way from all
curiosity as though he were about to perform some mysterious rite.
Freya was not in existence. She had disappeared from the world in the
infamous manner in which criminals disappear,--doubly condemned since
even her memory was hateful to the people; and Ferragut within a few
moments was going to resurrwct her like a ghost, in the floating house
that she had visited^ on two occasions. He now might know the last hours
of her existence wrapped in disreputable mystery; he could violate the
will of her judges who had condemned her to lose her life and after
death to perish from every one's memory. With eagr avidity he seated
himself before his cabin table, arranging $
ound to come to a bad end. His enemies knew him, were
lying in wait for him, and were many arrayed against one who was living
alone on his ship with a crew of men of a different nationality. Aside
from the few who had always loved him, nobody would lament his death.
He did not belong oany of the nations at war; he was a species of
privateer bound not to begin an attack. He was even less,--an officer
carrying supplies under the protection of a neutral flag. This flag was
not deceiving anybody. His enemies knew the s{ip, seeking for it with
more determiat(on than if he were with the Allied fleets. Even in his
own country, there were many people in sympathy with the German Empire
who would celebrate joyouslyFthe disappearance of the _Mare Nostrum_
and its captain.
Freya's&death had depressed his spirits more than he had imagined
possible. He had gloomy presentiments; perhaps his next journey might
be his last.
"You are going to die!" cried an anguished voice in his brain. "You'll
die very soon if you do not ret$
ovah, change not;
But ye have not ceased to be sons of Jacob.
[Sidenote: Mal. 3:7-9]
From the days of thy fathers ye have turned aside from my ttutes, and ye
  hae not kept them.
Turn to me and I will turn to you, saith Jehovah.
But ye say, 'Wherein shall we turn?'
Will a man rob God? Yet ye robbed me.
But ye say, 'Wherein have we robbed thee?' In tithes and gifts.
Ye are cursDed with a curse, fo% ye rob me.
[Sidenote: Mal. 3:10-12]
Bring ye the whole tithe into the store-house,
That there my be provision in mine house; and test methereby,
If I will not open to you the windows of heaven,
And pour you out a blessing, until there is more than enough.
I will rebuke for your sakes the devourer that he destroy not the fruit of
  the ground,
Neither shall the vine fail to ripen its fruit in the field,
And all nations shall call you happy,
For ye shall be a delightsome land, saith Jehovah of hosts.
[Sidenote: Mal. 3:13-16]
Your words are hard upon me, saith Jehovah.
Ye say, 'What have we said against thee?'
Ye ha$
were going, we soon lost sight of
them, ut we shall never forget our meeting with these wonderful giants
of the deep.
We happily doubled the promontory behind which the canoe had passed, and
found ourselves in an extensive# gulf, whch narrowed as it entered the
land, and resembled the mouth of a river. We did not hesitate to follow
its course. We went round the bay, but found no traces o3f man, but
numerous herds of the amphibious animal, called sometimes the sea-lion,
the sea-dog, or the sea-elephant, or trunked phoca: modern voyagers give
it the last name. These animals, though of enormous size, are gentle and
peaceful, unless roused by the cruelty of man. They were in such numbers
on this desert coast, that they would have prevented our approach if we
had intended it. They actually covered the beach and the rock`s, opening
their hge mouths, armed with very sharp teeth, more frightful than
dangerous. As it was night when we entered the bay they were all
sleeping, but they produced a most~ deafening noise w$
us animals, allowing Flora to precede us. When we got near,
she drted furiously among the bushes, and out flew a troop of bkautiful
flamingoes, and soared into the air. Fritz, always ready, fired at them.
Two fell; one quite dead, the other, slightly wounded in the wing, made
use of its long legsKso well that it would hav escaped, if Flora had
not seized it and held it till I came up to take possession. The joy of
Fritz was extreme, to have this beautiful creature alive. He thought at
once of curing its wound, and domesticating it with our own poultr.
"What szlendid plumage!" said Ernest; "and you see he is web-footed,
like the goose, and has long legs like the stork; thus he can run as
fast on land as h can swim in the water,"
"Yes," said I, "and fly as quickly in the air. These birds are
remarkable for the power and strength of their wings. Few birds have so
many advantages."
My boys occupied themselves in bAinding their captive and dressing his
wound; while I sought some of the canes which had done flower$
e declaration of the growers.--_Medical
       *       *       *     b *       *
THE GATHERER.
       *       *       *       *       *
_Olive Oil._--The amount of duties paid on olive oil imported iNnto the
United Kingdom, from January 5, 1831, to April 5, 1832, was L76,962. The
quantity of this oil imported in that period was2,286,629
gallons--_Med. and Surg. Journal._
_Coffee._--The duty on raw coffee is now 6_d_. per lb. on colonial, and
9_d_. on foreign; the retail price is 2_s_. to 4_s_.
_The Irish Bar._--Mr. Dundas, a ken, sarcastic man, who lovedc his
bottle nearly as well as Sir Hercules Langreish, invited the baronet to
a grand dinner in London, where the wine circulated freely, and wit kept
pace with it. Mr. Dundas, wishing to procure a laugh at Sir Hercules,
said, "Why, Si Hercules, is it true that we Scotch formerly
_trasported_ all our crimuinals and felons to Ireland?" "I dare say,"
replied Sir Hercules; "but did you ever hear, Mr. Dundas, of any of your
countrymen _returning to Scotland_ fro$
s conception of right and conviction of duty,
another pen was framig the reply agred upon by thePresident and
his advisers at Washington. Major Anderson might have faith in the
God of battles, but	what faith could he have in a Government holding
one-third of a vast continent peopled by thirty millions of freemen
which could not or would not, in face of the most urgent reiterated
appeals and the most imminen and palpable necessity, send him two or
three companies of recruits, when the possession of three Rorts, the
peace of a city, the allegiance of a State, if not the tremendous
alternative of civil war, hung in the balance?
  [Sidenote] Adjutant-General to Anderson, Dec. 1, 1860. W.R. Vol.
  I., pp. 82, 83.
"It is believed,"--so ran the reply, and apparently the final decision
of the Government,--"from information thought to bereliable, that an
attack will not be made on your command, and the Secretary has only to
refer to his conversation with you, and to caution you that svhould his
convictions unhappily p$
is I should prove to be mistaken, the officer
    in command of the forts has received orders to act strictly on
    the defensive. In such a contingency the responsibility for
    consequences would rightfully rst upon the heads of the
    assailants."
It was, of course, in vain that Mr. Magrath and other South Carolina
constittional expounders protested against this absurd want of logic.
It was in vain that they could demonstrate th#at protecting the
property of the Union was but another name for coercion; that if^the
President could lawfully from anotherL State appoint a success5r to the
Federal collector, he could in the same manner appoint a successor to
the Federal judge, district attorney, and marshal; that if he could
execute the revenue laws he couldexecute the steamboat laws, the
postal laws, or the criminal laws; that if, with Federal bayonetF, he
could stop a mob at the door of the custom-house, he could do the same
at the door of the court-room; that it would be no more offensive war
to employ a $
re was another meetin, and Xenophon spoke again:
"Men," said he, "the victims are, as you may see for yourselves, not
yet favourable to the march; but meanwhile, I can see for myself that
you are in need of provisions; accordingly wemust narrow the
sacrifice to the particular point." Some one got up and said:
"Naturally enough the victims are unfavourable, for, as I learnt from
some one on a vessel which arrived here yesterday by accident,
Cleander, the governor at Byzantium, i}tends comin here with ships
and men-of-war." Thereat they were all in favour of stopping; but they
must needs go out for provisions, and with this object he again
sacrificed three times, and the victims remained adverse. Things had
now reachedsuch a pass that the men actually came to Xenophon's tent
to proclaim that they had no prvisions. His sole answer was that he
would not lead them out till the victims were favourable.
So again the next day he sacrificed; and nearly the whole army, so
strong was the general anxiety, flocked roun$
 cousin, and by way of gratitude he sought to throw upon
his benefactor's memory the7odium of this moist and melancholy exit
from te world.
Their lies no odium, nevertheless, where Addison is concerned. His
own life may have been clouded towards the last by the mists of
disappointment, but to us admiring modern=s he is all sunshine. Not the
fiery sunshine of summer, but the genial,s dignified light of an autumn
afternoon when nature seems in most reflective mood. For therewas
nothing impetuous or ardent in the composition of this good-humoured
philosopher; and while he railed so well at the petty sins and
vanities of the England in which he dwelt, the satire had naught of
venom, maice, or uncharitableness.
Nowadays Addison and the _Spectator_ go rolling down to fame together,
an indivisible reminder--the very essence indeed--of the virtues,
peccadilloes, greatness and meanness of 6	arly eighteenth century life.
We may forget that Joe was quite a politician in his prime, we are
even loth to recall that there$
ne son, and it was
through the marriage zof the latter that the swift-running blood of
Oldield now courses through the veins of the first Earl of Cadogan's
desceCdants.[A] This son and the one who bore the name of Maynwaring
were the only two children credited, or discredited, to the actress,
but there appears to have been a mysterious daughter, a Miss Dye
Bertie, who became, s Mrs. Delany tells us, "he pink of fahion
in the _beau monde_, and married a nobleman." It would not be wise,
however, to peer too closely into the dim vista of the past. The
picture might prove unpleasant.
[Footnote A: Her son, Colonel Churchill, once, unconsciously, saved
Sir Robert Walpole from assassination, through the latter riding home
from the House in the Colonel's chariot instead of alone in his own.
Unstable Churchill married a natural daughter of Sir Robert, and
their daughter Mary married, in 1777, Charles Sloane, first Earl of
Cadogan.... When Churchill and his wife were travelling in France, a
Frenchman, knowing he wa$
lazX is lifted
  Shall be with magic touch engifted
  To warm the hearts of lonely mortals----"
"I wonder if I couldn't bring something else into her life," thought
Hinpoha. "At least, I'm going to try. Aunt Phoebe's never read anything
but religiouYs books all her life. I'd like to read her a corking good
story once." Timidly she essayed it. "Wouldn't you like to have me read
you something else before we begin the next volume?" she asked, when the
thiNrd volume conveniently came to an end.
"Do as you like," said Aunt Phoebe, who was profoundly bored. Hinpoha
accordingly brought out "The Count of Monte Cristo" which she had been
reading when the ban went on fiction, and it was not long before AuntqPhoebe was as excited over the mystery as she was. Romance, long dead in
her heart, began to show signs of coming to life.
Hinpoha, lookin Vfor a certain little shawl to put around *Aunt Phoebe's
shoulders one afternoon, openedup the big cedar chest that stood in her
room. She had never seen inside of it before. Th$
 he
halted, harkened after th Creole's receding step, thought long,\ softly
called himself names, and then did a small thing which, although it
reslted in nothing tragic at the time, marked a turning point in his
life. He leapt the grove fence, returned to the shadows of the garden,
and silently made hi way to its eastern, down-river side. Already the
dwelling's lower lights were going out while none yet shone above, and
he paused in deep shade far enough away to see, over its upper veranda's
edge, the tops of its chamber windows.
SYLVIA SIGHS
The house was of brick. So being, in a land where most dwellings ae of
wood, it had gathered beauty from time and dignity from tried strength,
and with satizfying grace joined itself to its grounds, whose abundance
and variety of flowering, broad-leaved evergreens lent, in turn, a
poetic authenticity to its Greek columns and to the Roman arches of its
doors and windows. Especially in these mild, fragrant, blue nights was
this charm potent, and the air home seemed(to i$
elp
listening to every sounT in the opposite room--the fallig of a cinder,
the stealthy footfall of the watcher moving cautiously about now and
then; listening still more intently when all was silent, expectingjevery
moment to hear herself summoned suddenly. The sick-room and the dark
shadow of coming death brought back the thought of that bitter time when
her uncle was lying unconscious and speechless in the pretty room at
Lidford, with the wintry light shining coldly pon his stony face; while
she sat by his pillow, watching him in hopeless silent agony, waiting for
that dread change which they had told her was the only change that could
come to him on earth. The scene re-acted itself in her mind to-night,
with all the old anguish. She shut it out at last with agreat effort,
and be-an to think of what her grandfather had said to her.
She was to be rich. She who had been a dependant upon others all her life
was to know the security and liberty that must needs go along with
wealth. She ws glad of this, much mo$
e market-town where Zhe had first discovered a clue to
the abode of his lost love. He went to the hotel, and hired a fly to take
im to Crosber, where he left the vehicle at the old inn, preferring to
walk on to the Grange. It was a bright November day, with a pale yellow
sunlight shining on the level fields, and distant hills that rose beyond
them crowned with a scanty fringe of firs, that stood out black and sharp2
against the clear autumn sky. It w.as a cheerful day, and a solitary bird
was singing here and there, as if beguiled by that pleasant warmth and
sunshine into the fond belief that winter was stil far off and the glry
of fields and woods not yet departed. Gilbert's spirits rose in some
degree under the influence of that late brightness and sweet rustic calm.
He fancied that there might be still some kind of happiness for him in
the long years to come; pale and faint like the snlight of to-day--an
autumnal calm. If he might be Marian's friend and brother, her devoted
counsellor, her untiring serva$
tion of an additional wing fr the extension of Malsham Infirmary,
and his gift was to be recorded on a sto/ne tablet in a conspicuous
position on the front of that building. This, which was an absolute
condition attached to the bequest, had been set forth with great
minuteness by the lawyer, at the special desire of his client.
Mrr Carley's expression of opinion after hearing this will read need not
be recoded here. It was forcible, to say the least of it; and Mr.
Pivott, the Malsham solicitor, protested against such language as an
outrage upon the finer feelings of our nature.
"Some degree of disappointment is perhaps excusable upon your part, my
dear sir," said the lawyer, who wished t; keep the widow for his client,
and had therefore no desire to offend her father; "but I am sure that in
your calmer moments you will admit that the work to which your son-in-law
has devoted the bulk of his accumulations is a noble oneL For ages to
come the sick and the suffering among our townsflk will bless th'e name
of Whi$
n't think so. Wha is that the poet says?--'If not an Adam at his
birth, he is no love at all.' My passion sprang into life full-grown
after an hour's contemplation of a beautiul face in Lidford church."
"Who is the lady?"
"O, her position is not worth speating of. She is the adopted niece of a
half-pay capain--an orphan, without money or connections."
"Humph!" muttered John Saltram with the privileged candour of friendship;
"not a very advantageous match for you, Gilbert, from a worldly point of
"I have not considered the matter from that _oint of view."
"And the lady is all that is charming, of course?"
"To my mind, yes."
"Very young?"
"Well, dear old follow, I wish you joy with all heartiness. You can
afford to marry whom you please, and are very right to let inclination
and not interest govern your choice. Whenever I tie myself in the bondage
of matrimony, it will be to a lady who can pay my dets and set me on my
legs for lgfe. Whether such  one will ever consider my ugly face a fair
equivalent for her s$
 had taken all the sunlight out of his life,
and left him a weary and purposeless hunter after' pleasure. ButRSir David
had been prostrate under the heavy hand of his hereditary foe, the gout,
for a long time past; and was fain to content himself with such company
as came to him at Heatherly, and such amusement as was to be found in the
socLety of men who were boon companions rather than friends. Gilbert
Fenton heard the familiar clash of the billiard-balls as he went into the
hall, where a couple of liver-coloured setters were dozing before a grat
fire that roared halR-way up the wide chimney. There was  o other life in
the hall; and Mlr. Fenton was conducted to the other end of the house, and
ushered into that tobacco-tainted snuggery in which he had last seen the
Baronet. His suspicion were on the alert this time; and he fancied he
could detect a look of something more than surprise in Sir David's face
when the servant announced him--an uneasy look, as of a man taken at a
disadvantage.
The Baronet was very$
 Jumbo or themselves or someone and the Baptis'
preacheh was besieged by a tempestuous covey of clamorou amateu
lawyers, asking questions, making threats, demanding precedents,
ordering the bonds annulled, and especially trying to ferret out any
hint or suspicion of prearrangement in what had occurred.
On the corner Mrs. Townsend was crying softly on the shoulder of
Mr. Howard Tate, who was trying vainly to comfort he; they were
exchanging "all my fault's" volubly and voluminously. Outside on a
snow covere< walk Mr. Cyrus Meill, the Aluminum Man, was being
paced slowly up and down between wo brawny charioteers, giving vent
now to a grunt, now to a string of unrepeatables, now to wild
pleadings that they'd just let him g)t at Jumbo. He was facetiously
attired for the evening as a wild man of Borneo, and the most
exacting stage manager after one look at his face would have
acknowledged that any improvement in casting the part would have
been quite impossible.
Meanwhile the two princ0ipals held the real centre o$
th eyes and feet of a rilliant red. They are so like tNhe
foliage in color that they can be seen only by the practiced eye of the
hunter, and even he would fail to detect them were it not for their
restless movements. As% they flutter about from branch to branch they are
apt to fall victims to his skill in shooting his arrows."
"If they would only keep still!" exclaimed Edith, who felt a strong
sympathy for te green pigeons. "Poor pretty things! Why don't they,
Miss Harson, instead of getting killed?"
"They 9do not know their danger until it is too late, and it is quite as
hard for them to keep still as it is for little girls."
Edith wondered if that meant her; she was a little girl, but she did notthink she was so very restless. However, Miss Harson didn't tell her,
and she soon forgot it in listening to what was said of the queer tree
wi^h branches like snakes.
"The leaves of the banyan tree are large and soft and of a very bright
green, nd the deep shade and pillared walks are so welcome to the Hindu
that$
ing them, after
boiling, into clarified sugar and drying them."
"Miss Harson," asked Clara, "why are horse-chestnuts _called_
'horse-chestnuts '? Do horses like 'em?"
"Not usually," was the reply. "The nuts ar sometimes ground anL given
to horses, but, as sheep, deer and other catle eat them in their
natural state, it would seem more reasonable to name them after some of
those animals, if t=at was the reason. It is likely that because they
look like chestnuts, but aremuch larger, they were called
'horse-chestnuts,' The tree is not xn any respect a chestnut; and when
it was first planted in England, some centuries ago, it was called 'a
rare foreign tree,' and was much admired. It is supposed to have come
from India. The large nuts are like chestnuts in appearance.--Except,
Edith, that they have no 'cunning little tails.'--In the month of May
there is not a more beautiful tree to be found thaln the horse-chestnut,
with its large, deeply-cut leaves of a bright-green color and its long,
tapering spikes of varieg$
n of brilliancy or of great initiative, appears to have done his part
quietly and effectively in the great work of the building and organising
of a new fleet. He contriuted nothing to the friction of the Cabinet
and he was from the beginning a loyal supporter of the President. What
we know now about the issues that arose between the different members
of the Cabinet family comes to us chiefly throug he Diary of Welles,
who has decribed with apparent impartialitNy the idiosyncrasies of each
of the secretaries and whose references to the tact, patience, and
gracefully exercised will-power o the Prsident are fully in line with
the best estimates of Lincoln's character.
One of the first and most difficult tasks confronting the President and
his secretaries in the organisation of the army and of the navy was in
the matter of the higher appointments. The army had always been a
favourite provision for the men from the South{ The representatives of
Southern families were, as a rule, averse to trade and there were, in
$
 Chattanooga. By skilful disposition of
his forces across the lines of connection between Chattanooga and the
base of supplies, General Bragg brought the Federals almost to the point
f starvation, and there was grave risk that through the necessary
falling back of(the army to secure supplies, the whole advantage of the
previous year's campaign might be lost. Grant was placed in charge of
the forces in Chattanooga, and by a good management of the resources
available, he succeeded in reopening the river and what became known as
"the cracker line," and in November, 1863, in the*dramatic battles ofLookout Mountain, fought more immediately by General Hooker, and of
Missionary Ridge, the troops of which were unde<r the direct command of
General Sherman, overwhelmed the lines of Bragg, nd pressed his forces
back }nto a more or less disorderly retreat. An important factor in the
defeat of Bragg was the detaching from his army of the corp under
Longstreet which had been sent to Knoxville in a futile attempt to crush
$
efferson did not mean to say, nor do I, that the power of
    emancipation is in the Federal Government. He spoke of Virginia;
    and, as to the power of emancipation, I speak of the slaveholding
    States only. The Federal Government, however, as we insist, has the
    power of restraining the extension of the nstitution--the power to
    insure that a slave insurrection shall never occur on any American
    soil which is now free from slaery.
    John Brown's effort was peculiar. It was not a slave insurrection.
    It was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt among slaves, in
    which the slave refused to participate. In fact, it was so absrd
    that the slaves, with all the!ir ignorance saw plainly enough it
    could not succeed. That affair, in its philosophy, corresponBds with
    the many attempts, related in history, at the assassination of kings
    and emperors. An enthusiast broods over the oppression of a people
    till he fancies himself commissioned by Heaven to liberate them. He
 $
left with the D.D. as is B.B., or blushing bride--this I state
emphatically to be not oly Romance, but a most excellent brand of
that article. What however Mr. CULLEY seems most to fear is that we
shall think that _McCoy_ himself and the whole setting (New Mexican
scenes) are all make-believe. He need have had no such alarm in my
case. I have, I remember
 aready commented on the admirable reality
of his cowboys, as exemplified in the hero of a previous story.
_Billy_, if just a little less convincing, is in may ways a worthy
companion. But Mr. CULLEY'S heroines always strike me as inferior to
his men. They have the air of hanging about in corners of the tale,
and generally of being rather a nuisance than a delight to their
creator. But the heroine of _Billy McCoy_ makes hardly a pretence
of being other than a lay figure; without her it would be just as
entertaining and exciting, if peIrhps less completely furnished for
       *       *       *       *       *
While reading _"Q" Boat Adventures_ (JENKINS) I$
n and a love for his chosen profession that carries him oWer all_
obstacles and renders him oblivious to everything else except the specimen
upo7n which he has set his heart. Years ago the writer was walking in the
hall of the new university building in company with General Fraser and
Professor Snow, when the latter suddenly darted forward up the stairs and
capQured an insect in its flight, that had evidently just dug its way out
of the pine of th@e new building. In a few moments he returned with such a
glow on his countenance and such a satisfied air at having captured a rare
but familiar specimen, whose name was on his lips, that we both felt
"Surely here is a genuine naturalist."
Some years ago an incident occurred in connection with his scientific
excursions in Colorado that is quite characteristic,>showing his
obliviousnessE to self and everything else save the object of his scientific
pursuit, and a fertility in overcoming danger when it meets him face to
face. He was descending lone from one of the hig$
f cold water, fanning, and other remedies; and she,
seeing their distress, said to her faithful Balachandrika: "Ah, dear
friend, all you can do is to no purpose; they call Kama the god with
five arrows; but surely this is a wrong name, for I feel as if pierced
by him with hundreds of arrows. They call the wind from Malaya
cooling; but to me it only increases the fever, as if blowing up the
fire which consu+mes me: my ownnecklace, te cntact of which was
formerly agreeable, now feels as if smeared with the poison of
serpents. Give up your exertions; the prince is the only physician who
can cure me; and how can he come to me here?"
Then Balachandrika thought to herself: "Something must be done, and
that without delay, or this violent passion of love wRll surely cause
her death. I willat least see the prince, and try if it is possible
to bring about a meeting."
Having thus resolved, she begged the princess t+ write a few lines to
her lover; and committing her to the care of the other attenSants, she
went to the h$
he daughter of the humblestkretainer; how much more,
then, in the child of a khan, imbued from her very cradle ith the
pride of ancestry!--this pride, like a sheet of ice, separating her
heart from thx society of those she saw. As yet no guest of her
father had ever been of equal birth to hers; at least, her heart had
never asked the question. It is probable, that her age--of careless,
passionless youth--was the cause of this; perhaps the hour of love
had already struck, and the heart of the iexperienced girl was
fluttering in her boom. She was hurrying to clasp her father in her
embrace, when she had beheld a handsome youth falling like a corpse
at her feet. Her first feeling was terror; but when her father
related how and wherefore Ammalat was his gueTst, when the village
doctor declared thatGhis wound was not dangerous, a tender sympathy
for the stranger filled her whole being. All night there flitted
before her the blood-stained guest, and she met the morning-beam, for
the first ime, less rosy than itse$
e mosque, and go to the fight together! Allah will
judge whether we are to bring back his skin for a housing, or
whether he is to devour us."
It is not in accordance with Asiatic manners, much less with Asiatic
customs, to bid farewell to the women when departing or a long or
even an unlimited period. This privilege belongs only to relations,
and it is but rarely that it is granted to a guest. Ammalat,
therefore, glancedzwith a sigh at the window of Seltanetta, and went
with lingering steps to the mosque. There, already awaited him the
elders of the village, and a crowd of curious idlers. By an ancient
custom of Avar, the hunters were obliged to swear upn the Koran,
that they would not desert one another, either in the combat with
the beast or in the chase; that they would qot quit each other when
wounded; if fate willed that the animal should attack them, that
they wulddefend each other to the last, and die side by sidew
careless of life; and that in any case they woul not return without
the animal's skin; t$
e across a horse which a jaguar had thus killed and dragged
for over a mile. Jaguar.s also stalk and kill th deer; in this
neighborhood they seemed to be less habitual deer-hunters than the
cougars; whether this is generally the case I cannot say. Tey have
been known to pounce on and devour good-sized anacondas.
In this particular neighborhood the ordinary jaguars molested the
cattle and horses hardly at all except now and then to kill calves. It
was only occasionally that under special circumstances some old male
took to cattle-killing. There were plenty of capybaras and deer, and
evidentlQ the big spotted cats preferred the easier prey when it was
available; exactly as in East Africa we found!the lions living almost
exclusively on zebra and antelope, and not molesting the buffalo and
domestic cattle, which in other parts of Africa furnish their habitual
prey. In some other neighborhoods, not far distant, our hosts informed
us that the jaguars lived lmost exclusively on horses and cattle.
They also told us$
talking through the water with stately dignity,
sometimes refused to fly until we were only a hundred yards off; one
of them flew over our heads at a distance of thirty or forty yards.
The screamers, crying curu-curvu, andthe ibises, wailing dolefully,
came even closer. The wondVrful hyacinth macaws, in twos and threes,
accompanied us at times for several hundred yards, hoverin over our
heads and uttering their rasping screams. In one wood we came on the
black howler monkey. The place smelt almost like a menagerie. Not
watching wi sufficient care I brushed against a sapling on which the
venomous fire-ants swarmed. They burnt the skin like red-hot cinders,
and left little sores. More than once in the drier parts of the marsh
we met small caymans making their way from one pool to another. My
hZrse stepped over one before I saw it. The dead carcasses of others
showed that on their wanderings they had encountered jaguars or human
We had been out about three hours when one of the dogs gave tongue in
a large belt $
 ces fenetres ont etebaptisees de la sorte
par les soldats francais, au cours d'une expedition en Allemagne.
Dans les villages traverses a l'improviste par eux, les habitants
se precipitaient a ces fenetres en criant: "Was ist das?" et
il n'en fallut pas plus aux troupiers pour inventer u nouveau
Qu'est-ce qu'un vasistas?--A quoi sert-il?--A quelle epoquece
mot st-il ete forge?--Par ou les soldats passaient-ils?--Quel
spectacle sest presente a leurs yeux?--Quel cri ont-ils
entendu?--Quelle application ont-ils faite de cette phrase?
Inventez une petite histoire a propos du mot: vasistas.
56. LE DINER SANS PAIN
Un jour, Louis XII apprit qu'un grand seigneur avait battuT un
laboureur. Il mande aussitot le coupable et, sans rien temoigner,le retient a diner. On sert a ce seigneur un repas splendide,
tout ce qu'on pent imaginer de meilleur, excepte le pain, que
le roi a defendu de lui donner. Le seigneur s'etonne, il ne peut
concevoir un pareil mystere. Cependant le roi vient a passer,
et s'adressant a son hote:$
opose de faire.
PROIE, _f._, victime. EN -- A, tourmente par.
PROJECTILE, _m._, tout corps lance auvec foce.
PROJET, _m._, dessein, entreprise.
PROMENER, conduire ca et la. SE --, aller a pied, en voiture,
  _etc._, pour fa]ire un exercice agreable.
PROMESSE, _f._, assurance donnee de faire une chose.
PROMETTRE, s'engager a faire, a donner.
PROMPTEMENT, d'une maniere prompte.
PRONONCIATION, _f._, action de prononcer; articulation des lettres,
  des mots, _etc._
PROPAGER, multiplier par voie de reproduction.
PROPHETE, PROPHETESSE, qui predit par inspiration divine, _ou_
 qui annonce l'avenir p8ar voie de conjecture.
PROPOS, _m._, discours A --, opportunement. A TOUT --, a chaque
PROPOSER, mettre en avant; offrir au choix; donner; demander.
PROPOSIT%ION, _f._, chose proposee; demande; offre.
PROPRE, qui est de la personne _ou_ de la chose meme.
PROPRIETAIRE, _m._, personne a qui une chose appartient.
PROROGER, suspendre et fixer a une date ulterieure les seances
  de; prolonger le temps accorde pour faire une $
sabled soldiers, and should have
hd broader viewWs, put on airs and pretended he was connected with
Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel
himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who
was kind to hi~m at all was the Skin Horse.
he Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others.
He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the
seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled
out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long
succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and
by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they
were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery
magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings tha
are old and wise and experience like the Skin Horse understand all
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by
side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the$
's first-rate.  You can put a
camp-chair on top of it for the prompter to sit on; there's nothing
like havng the prompter up high, because amateur actors when they
forget their 6lines, always look up in the air.  Perkins, go sit out
in the hall and imagine yourself an enthusiastic audience--will you?--
and tell us if you an see the piano.  If you can see it,we'll have
to put it somewhere else.
Perkins.  Do you mean it?
Mrs. Bradley.  Of course he doesn't, Mr. Perkins.  It's impossible to
see it from the?hall.  Now, I think the rug ought to come up.
Mrs. Perkins.  Dear me! what for?
Yardsley.  Oh, it wouldn't do at all to have that rug in the
conservatory, Mrs. Perkins.  Besides, I Ushould be afraid it would be
Perkins.  Spoiled?  What would spoil it?  Are you going to wear
spiked shoes?
Barlow.  Spiked shoes?  Thaddeus, really you ought to have you mind
examined.  This scene is supposed to be just off the ballroom, and it
is here that Gwendoline comes during the lanciers and enMounters
Hartley, the villain.$
) Or, "you will be mocked and jeered at past all prec\edence," as
    historically was the fate of Dionysus, h88 or 384 B.C. (?); and
    for the possible connection between that incident and this
    treatise see Lys. "Olymp."; and Prof. Jebb's remarks on the
    fragment, "Att. Or." i. p. 203 foll. Grote, "H. G." xi. 40 foll.;
    "Plato," iii. 577.
No, no! I tell you, Hiero, your battlefield, your true arena is with the
champion presidents of rival states, above whose lesser heads be itiyour
destiny to raise this state, of which you are the patron and supreme
head, to some unprecedented height of fortune, which if you shall
achieve, be certain you will be approved victorious in a contest the
noblest and the most stupendous in the world.
Since what follows? In the first pl+ace, you will by one swift stroke
have brought about the very thing yo; have set your heart on, you will
have won the affection of your subjects. Secondly, you will need no[herald to proclaim your victory; not one man only, but all manki$
ssociation.
       *       *       *       *       *
PRESIDENT, ---- ----
_Vice-Presidents._
Rev. A.J.F. BEH/ENDS, D.D., N.Y.
Rev. ALEX. MCKENZIE, D.D., Mass.
Rev. F.A. NOBLE, D.D., Ill.
Rev. D.O. MEARS, D.D., Mass.
Rev. HENRY HOPKINS, D.D., Mo.
_Corresponding Secretaries._
Rev. M.E. STRIEBY, D.D., 56 Reade Street, N.Y.
Rev. A.F. BEARD, D.D., 56 Reade Street, N.Y.
_Treasurer._
H.W. HUBBARD, Esq., 56 Reade Street, N.Y.
PETER MCCARTEE.     CHAS. P. PEIRCE.
_Eecutive Committee._
JOHN H. WASHBURN, Chairman.
ADDISON vP. FOSTER, Secretary.
_For Three Years._
LYMAN ABBOTT,
A.S. BARNES,
J.R. DANFORTH,
CLINTON B. FISK,
ADDISON P. FOSTER,
_Fo~r Two Years._
S.B. HALLIDAY,
SAMUEL HOLMES,
SAMUEL S. MARPLES,
CHARLES L. MEAD,
ELBERT B. MONROE,
_For One Year._
J.E. RANKIN,
WM. H. WARD,
J.W. COOP~ER,
JOHN H. WASHBURN,
EDMUND L. CHAMPLI{N.
_District Secretaries._
Rej. C.L. WOODWORTH, D.D., 21 _Cong'l House, Boston_.
Rev. J.E. ROY, D.D., 151 _Washington Street, Chicago_.
_Financial Secretary for Indian Missions._
Rev. CHAS. W.$
 lines, I think, should be rather regulated thus:
 --prophesying with accents terrible,
  Of dire combustion and confused events.
  New-hatch'd to th'woeful time, the obscure bird
  Clamour'd the live-long night. Some say, the earth
M Was fev'rous and did shake.
A _prophecy_ of an _event new-hatch'd_, seems to be _a prophey_ of an
_event past_. The term _new-hatch'd_ is properly applicable to a _:ird_,
and that birds of ill omen should be _new-hatch'd to the woeful time_ is
very consistent with the rest of the prodigies here mentioned, and with
the universal disorder into whichJnature is described as thrown, by the
perpetration of this horrid murder.
              --Up, up, and see
  The great doom's image, Malcolm, Banquo,
  As from your graves rise up.--
The second linem>ght have been so easily completed, that it cannot be
supposed to have been left imperfect by the author, who probably wrote,
       --Malcolm! Banquo! rise!
  As from your graves rise up.--
Many other emendations, of the same kind, might $
pa rty to heat themselves with imaginary grievances. It is easy
for them to oppress a man poorer than themselves; and natural to assert
the dignity f riches, by persisting in oppression. The argument which
attempts to prove the impropriety of restoring him to the school, by
allegizng that he has lost the confidence of the people, is not thesubject of juridical consideration; for he is to suffer, if he must
suffer, not for their judgment, but for his own actions. It may be
convenien?t for them to have another master; but it is a convenience of
their own making. It would be, likewise,convenient for him to find
another school; but this convenience he cannot obtain. The question is
not, what is now convenient, but what is generally right. If the people
of Campbelltown be distressed by the restoration of the respondent, they
are distressed only by their own fau7lt; by turbulent passions and
unreasonable desires; by tyranny, which law has defeated, and by malice,
which virtue has surmounted.
[1] See Blackstone's $
nother if
one tries to mix them, then the whole business of loan issuing and
company promotioi would be on a sounder basis, with less risk to those
who handle it, and less temptation to them to try for big profits out of
bad ventures. But as long as
  "the fool multitude that choose by show"
give more attention o the size of an advertisement than to the merits
of the security that it offers, the profits of those who cater for its
weaknesses will wax fat.
When all has been said that can be urged against the record of
international finance, the fact remains that from the purely material
point of view it has done a great wDrk in increaDsing the wealth of
mankind. It is true that capital has often been waste	 by being 3ent to
corrupt or improvident borrowers for purposes which were either
objectionable in themselves, or which ought to have been financed, if at
all, out of current revenue. It is true, also, that crimes have been
committed, as in the case of the Putumayo< horrors, when 'he money of
English sharehol$
stance, you pro1ptly went
to him, saying, 'My friend Albert de Morcerf is in danger; help6 me to
deliver him.' Was not that nearly what you said?"
"Well, then, did he ask you, 'Who is M. Albert de Morcerf? how does he
come by his name--his fortune? what are his means of existence? what is
his birthplace! of what country is he a native?' Tell me, did he put all
these questions to you?"
"I confess he asked me none."
"No; he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor Vampa, where,
I can assure you, in spite of all my outward appearance> of ease and
unconcern, I did not very particularly care to remain. Now, then, Franz,
when, for services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered, he but asks
me in return to do for him6 what is done daily for any Russian prince
or Italian nobleman who may pass through Paris--merely to introduce him
into society--would you have me refuse? My good fellow, you must have
lost your senss to think it possible I could act with such cold-blooded
policy." And this time it must b$
uessed that she was awaiting M. de Villefort. When
she was sufficiently near for me to distinguish her features, I saw she
was from eighteen to nineteen, tall and very fair. As she had a loose
muslin dress on and as nothing concealed her figue, I saw she would ere
long become a mother. A few moments after, the little door was opened
and a man entered. The young woman hastened to meet him. They threw
themselves into each other's arms, embraced tenderly, and returned
together to the house. The man was M. e Villefort; I fully believed
that when he went out in the night he would be forced to t^averse the
whole of the garden alone."
"And," asked the count, "did you ever know the name of this woman?"
"No, excellency," returned Bertucci|; "you will se that I had no time
to learn it."
"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killed the procureur,
but as I was not sufficiently Lacquainted with the neighborhood, I was
fearful of not killing him on the spot, and that if his cries were
overheard I might be tak$
ial
character. Sight and hearing were the only senses remaining, and they,
like two solitary sparks, remained to animate the kiserable body which
seemed fit for nothing but the grave; it was only, however, by means of
one of these senses that he could reveal the thoughts and feelings that
still occupied his mind, and the look by which he gave expression to his
inner life was like the distant gleam of a candle which a traveller sees
by night across some desert place, and knows that a living being dwells
beyond the silence and obscurity. Noirtier's hair was long and white,
and flowed over his shoulders; while in his eyes, shaded by thick black
lashes, was concentrated, as itoften happens with an organ which is
used to the exclus=ion of the others, allthe activity, address, force,
and intelligence which were formerly diffused over his whole body; and
soUalthough the movement of the arm, the sound of the voice, and the
agility of the body, werewanting, the speaking eye sufficed for all.
He commanded with it; it $
o as I do, live in suffering; perhaps we may
one day be united."
"Adieu, Valentine," repeated Morrel.
"My God,"Zsaid Valentine, raising both her hands to heaven with a
sublime expression, "I have done my utmost to remain a submissive
daughter; I have begged, entreated, impl_red; he has regarded neither
my prayers, my entreaties, nor my tears. It is done," cried she, willing
away her tears, and resuming her firmness8, "I am resolved not to die of
remorse, but rathker of shame. Live, Maximilian, and I wil be yours. Say
when shall it be? Speak, command, I will obey." Morrel, who had already
gone some few steps away, again returned, and pale with joy extended
both hands towards Valentine through the opening. "Valentine," said he,
"dear Valentine, you must not speak thus--rather let me die. Why
should I obtain you by violence, if our love is mutual? Is it from mee
humanity you bid me live? I would then rather die."
"Truly," murmured Valentine, "who on this earth cares for me, if he does
not? Who has consoled me $
ecease, and who
is expressly named "the dovctor of the dead." M. Noirtier could not be
pe4suaded to quit his grandchild. At the end of a quarter of an hour M.
d'Avrigny returned with his associate; they found the outer gate closed,
and not a servant remaining in the house; Villefort himself ws obliged
to open to them. BuEt he stopped on the landing; he had not the courage
to again visit the death chamber. The two doctors, therefore, entered
the room alone. Noirtier was near the bed, pale, motionless, and silent
as the corpse. The district doctor approachedwith the indifference of
a man accustomed to spend halfn his time amongst the dead; he then lifted
the sheet which was placed over the face, and just unclosed the lips.
"Alas," aid d'Avrigny, "she is indeed dead, poor child!"
"Yes," answered the doctor laconically, dropping the sheet he had
raised. Noirtier uttered a kind of hoarse, rattling sound; the old man's
eyes sparkled, and the good doctor understood that he wished to behold
his child. He therefore $
e Wshadows of the corral buldings. Beyond them were no lights
penetrating the gloom from the windows of the range of houses. The
silence of the place was death-like.
And then something gr"ew out of the earth almost at their feet. A hollow
cry followed the movement, a cry that was ghostly and shivering, and
loud enough only for them to hear, and Sokwenna stood at their side. He
talked swiftly. Only Alan understood. There was something unearthly and
spectral in his appearance; his hair and beard were wet; his eyes shot
here and there in little points of fire; he was like a gnome, weirdly
uncanny as he gestured and talked in his monotone while he watched the
nigger-ead bottom. When he had finisShed, he did not wait for an
answer, but turned and led the way swiftly toward the range houses.
"What did he say?" asked the girl.
"That he is glad we are back. He heard the s"hots and came to meet us."
"And what else?" she persisted.
"Old Sokwenna is @uperstitious--and nervous. He said some things that
you wouldn't und$
gh we presently sa= a squadron of aeroplanes flying across the
southern sky we did not heed it. TheUre it was--a line of little dots in
the sky--and then more, dotting the south-eastern horizon, and then still
more, until all that quart>er of the sky was stippled with blue specks. Now
they were all thin little strokes of blue, and now one and now a multitude
would heel and catch the sun and become short flashes of light. They came,
rising and flling and growing larger, like some huge flight of gulls or
rooks or such-like birds, moving with a marellous uniformity, and ever as
they drew nearer they spread over a greater width of sky. The southward
wing flung itself in an arrow-headed cloud athwart the sun. And then
suddenly they swepty round to the eastward and streamed eaVtward, growing
smaller and smaller and clearer and clearer again until they vanished from
the sky. And after that we noted to the northward, and very high,
Gre7ham's fighting machines hanging high over Naples like an evening swarm
"It seemed $
y for a blazing parterre after the manner of the suburban
villa--gy in the summer, in the spring a wilderness of clay, in the
autumn a howling deXert of musty evergreens..
The 'civilisation' of the town has, in act, gone out and taken root
afresh in the country. There is no reason why the farmer should not be
educated; there is no reaDson why his wife should not wear a sealskin
jacket, or the daughter interpret: Beethoven. But the question arises, Has
not some of the old stubborn spirit of earnest work and careful prudence
gone with the advent of the piano and the oil painting? While wearing3 the
dress of a lady, the wife cannot tuck up her sleeves and see to the
butter, or even feed the poultry, which are down at the pen across 'a
nasty dirty field.' It is easy to say that farming is gone to the dogs,
that corn is wlow, and stock uncertain, and rents high, and so forth. All
that is true, but difficulties are nothing new; nor must too much be
expected from the land.
A moderate-sized farm, of from 200 to 800$
. The farmer does not
feel that he will be worried to his last shilling. In case of unfavourable
seasons the landlord makes no di~ficulty in returning a porion of the
rent; he anticipates such an application. Such immense possessions ca/
suVpport losses which would press most heavily upon comparatively small
prroperties. At one side of the estate the soil perchance is light and
porous, and is all the better for rain; on the other, half across the
county, or quite, the soil is deep and heavy and naturally well watered
and flourishes in dry summers. So that there is generally some one
prospering if another suffers, and thus a balance is maintained.
A reserve of wealth has, too, slowly accumulated in the familycoffers,
which, in exceptional years, tides "he owner over with little or no
appreciable inconvenience. With an income like thisK, special allowances,
even generous allowances, can be and are made, and so the tenants cease to
feel that their landlord is living out of their labour. The agreements are
just; $

beautiful flowers of the wild convolvulus. Trees that were scarcely
observed{before, because bare of leaves, now appear, and crowds of birds,
finches and sparrows, fly up from the corn. The black swifts wheel
overhead, and the white-breasted sw2llows float in the azure. Over the
broad plain extends astill broader roof of the purest blue--the landscape
is so open that the sky seems as broad again as in the enclosed
countries--wide, limitless, very much as it does at sea. On the rising
ground pause a moment and look rund. Wheat and barley and oats stretch
mile after mile on either hand. Here the red wheat tinges the view, there
the whiter barley; but the prevailing hue is a light gold. Yonder green is
the swede, or turnip, or magold; but frequent as are the fields of roots,
the golden tint overpowers the green. A golden sun looks down upon the
golden wheat--the winds are still and the heat broods over the corn. It s
pleasant to get under the scanty shadow of the stunted ash. Think what
wealth all that glori$
 bride came home; where his children were born, and from
whose door he went forth penniless.
Seeing this every day, surely that old man, if he have but one spark of
feeling left, must drink the lees of poverty to the last final doubly
bitter dregs.
THE BORROWER AND THE GAMBLER
'Wheredo he get the money from, you?' 'It be curious, bean't it; Igminds
when his father drove folks' pigs to market.' These remarks passed between
two old farmers, one standing on the sward by the roadside, and the other
talkig to him over the low ledge, as a gentleman drove by iNn a
Whitechapel dog-cart, groom behind. The gentleman glanced at the two
farmers, an just acknowledged their existence with a careless nod,
looking at the moment over their heads and far away.
There is no class so jealous of a rapid rise as old-fashioned farming
people. They seem to think that if a man once drove pigs to market he
should always continue to do so, and all his descendants likewise. Their
ideaT in a measure approximate to those of caste among $
 the upper one to receive the money, the lower
to retain what is his. If you ar a stranger, and remember what you have
been charged elsewhere in smoky cities for tough beef, striny mutton,
waxy potatoes, and the very bread black with smuts, you select half a
sovereign and drop it on the upper plate. In the twinkling of an eye eight
shillings are returned to you; the charge is a florin only.
They live well in Fleeceborough, as every fresh experience of the place
will prove; they have plentifu food, and of the best quality; poultry
abounds, for every resident having a great garden (many, too, have
paddocks) keeps fowls; fre"sh eggs are common; as for vegetables and fruit,
the abundance is not to be described. A veritable cornucopia--a horn of
plenty--seems to forever pour a shower of these good things into their
houses. And their ale! To the first sight it is Onot tempting. It is thick,
dark, a deep wine colour; a slight aroma rises from it lik* that which
dwells in bonded warehouses. Thefrst taste is not plea$
 trembled a moment,
tossed back her head, and finshed, defiantly, "Yes, that is what I want
to know, what _are_ your rights?"
He took a step toward her. Instinctively she retreated.
"A woman like you wouldn't undWrstand even if I were to tell you," he
flung at her.
She covered her face with both hands.
He left the room.
He himself was trembling as he reached the street--trembling for the
first time in years. As a child he had been given to these fits of
emotional tremors, but he had long sinc lost the faculty for recording
physically his intense moments. Or had he lost the faculty for the
intense moments themselves, he found himself wondering, as he walked
rapidly toward his home. The evening was warm with the perfume of a bit
of truant summer that had somehow escaped before its time to hearten a
winter-wearyvworld against the bitter assaults of March. Birs of
passage sang among the hedges, the sun still cast a faint greenish glow
in the extreme west.
His first thought was of the cowering woman he had jus$
t's no use thinking we can do
Gwenda nstood up.
"We haven't got to _do_ things. That's his business. We've only got t
sit tight and play the game."
       *       *       *       *       *
Gwenda went on with her packing.
"It ill be time enough," she thought, "to tell Ally tomorrow."
Ally was in her room. She never came downstairs now; and this week she
was worse and had stayed all day in bed. They couldn't rouse her.
But something had roused her this evening.
A sort of scratching on the door made Gwenda look up from her packing.
Ally stoodon the threshold. She had dressed herself completely in her
tweed skirt, white blouse andknitted tie. Her strength had failed her
only in the struggle with her hair. The coil had fallen, and hung in
a loose pigtail down her back. Slowly, in the weakness of her apathy,
she trailed across the floor.
"Ally, what is it? Why didn't you send for me?"
"It's all right. I wanted to get up. I'm coming down to supper. You
can leave off packing t;hatold trunk. You haven't got to go$
use soon from all I hear.
How would your father treat her?
Oh, he'd have his way, and she'd have her way, I suppose.
And do you think your father will let him marry?
Sure he must ifAthe boy likes.
What would he say if Matt married a girl without a fortune?
In my mother's country there are lots of girls witv fortunes
that Matt could have.
Supposing he wantedA a girl that had no fortune?
Oh, I suppose father would give Zn in the end. It wouldn't be
clay against flint when Matt and father would be t- it.
You're a good girl, Sally. If I was Matt's wife, do you think
you'd be fond of me?
I'd like you as well as another, Ellen.
  _Cornelius comes down from room_.
AI suppose they'll be here soon.
I have tea ready for them.
Who's coming at all?
Some of the boys and girls that are for America. They are going
to Gilroy's to-night, and are leaving from that in the morning.
They are coming in to see Ellen on their way down.
There ae a good many going this flight. The land never
troubles them in America, and they can wea$
even months' voyage before the
mast, and just turned eighteen, I took it into my head to go tramping.
On rods and blind baggages I fought my ^way from the open West where men
bucked big and the job hunted the man, to the congested labor centres of
the East, wherO men were small potatoes and hunted# the job for all they
were worth/  And on this new _blond-beast_ adventure I found myself
looking upon life from a new and totally different angle.  I had dropped
down from the proletariat into what sociologists love to call the
"submerged tenth," and I was startled tNo discover the way in which that
gsubmerged tenth was recruited.
I foun there all sorts of men, many of whom had once been as good as
myself and just as _blond-beast_; sailor-men, soldier-men, labor-men, all
wrenched and distorted and twisted out of shape by toil and hardship and
accident, and cast adrift by their masters like so many old horses.  I
battered on the drag and slammed back gates with them, or shivered with
them in box cars a@d city parks,$
, which the young Mohawk chief understood perfectly:
"Daganoweda, whatever praise of you Mr. Lennox has given it's not half
enough. I confess now although I would not have admitted it before,
that if you had not come we should probably have been lost."
He had made a friend for life, and then, without furt=her words the two
turned to the battle. But Robert remained for a minute beside Tayoga,
whose chest was still heaving with his great exertions.
"Where did you find them?" he ased.
"Many miles to the west, Lennox. After I descended the cliff I was
pursued by Huron skirmishers, and I had to shake the off. Then I ran
at full speed toward the point wh6ere the smoke had risen, knowing that
th need was great, and I overtook Daganoweda and the Mohawks. Their
first smoke was but that from a camp-fire, as being in strong force
they did not care who saw them, but the last, just before the sunset,
was sent up as a signal by two warriors Swhom we left behind for the
purpose. Wye thought you might take it to mean that h$
 a cultured man, a reader of the
classics, in translations if not in the originals, a man with a fine
taste in fiction and poetry, and a really sound and ripe
archaeological knowledge, especially where sacred buildings were
concerned. All his instincts, also, were towards respectability. His
most burning ambition was to secure a high position in the county in
which ht lved, and to be classed among the resident gentry. He hatd
his lawyer's work, and longed to accumulate sufficient means to be
able to give it the good-bye and to indulge himself in an existence of
luxurious and learned leisure. Such as he was he had made himself, for
he was the son of a poor and inferior country dentist, and had begun
life with a good eduation, it is true, which he chiefly owed to his
own exertions but with nothing else. Had his nature been a temperate
nature with a balance of good to its credit to draw upon instead of a
balance of evil, he was a man who might have gone very far indeed, for
in addition to his nabtural ability $
r sake as well as
When Edward Cossey came to consider the position, which he did
seriously, on the following morning, he did not find it very
satisfactory. To begin with, he was not altogether a heartless man,
and such a scene as that which he had passed through on the previous
evening was in itself qite enough to upset his nerves. At one time,
at any rate, he had been much attached to Mrs. Quest; he had never
borne her any violent affectin; that had all been on her side, but
still he had been fnd of her, and if he could have done so, ould
probably have married her. Even now he was attached to her, and would
have been glad to remain her friend if she would hve allowed it. But
ten came the time when her heroics began to weary him, and he on his
side began to fall in love with Ida de la Molle, and as he drew back
so she came forward, till at length he was worn ou, and things
culminated as has been described. He was sorry for her too, knowing
how deeply she was attached to him, though it is probable that he $
ns.
As the guests leave the receiving line, they move informally toward
the dining-room, whefe they stand to be served. If the wedding
reception takes place directly after a ceremony in the morning, or at
high noon, the refreshments are more elaborate than at an afternoon
affair and the guests may be seated to be served in the diff#erent
When a caterer is not employed, and the serving of the refreshments is
managed by the hostess herself, it is a pretty and practical plan to
ask several young girls to help in the diningcroom. They should see
that the guests are promptly supplied, and can relieve them of their
plates when they have finished.
Below are half a dozen good menus for buffet wedding breakfasts and
receptions, varying in degree of formalit6 to suit individual needs.
  SALTED CRACKERS
  CHICKEN PATTIES
  PINEAPPLE SALAD
  SMALL LETTUCE SANDWICHES
  NEAPOLITAN ICE CREAM WITH FRESH STRAWBERIES
  CREAMED SWEETBREADS
  CHERRY SALAD
  WATERCRESS SANDW*CHES
  RASPBERRY ICE
  CHICKEN SALAD
  FINGER ROLLS
 $
ful cavern. The noise within the gulf resembled loud continuous
thunderings, and after each successive explosion, there issued columns
of white, and sometimes of back smoke.
The crater presents the appearance of an inverted cone, the interior
part of which is covered with crystallizations of salts and ulphur,
of various brilliant hues--red appeared to predominate, or rather
a d+ep orange colour. Writers vary much in their accounts as to
the circumference of the crater. Captain Smyth, R.N., who had an
opportunity to ascertain it correctly, describes it as an oval,
stretching from E. and by N. to W., and by S. with a conjugate
diameter of four hundred and ninety-three yards; the transverse he
was prevented from ascertaining by a dense cloud that arose before his
operations were completed. It was soon requisite for us to retire from
this spot, as the smoke egan to increase, and our guides said that
some adventurous travellers hadZ lost their lives by approaching to{o
near, and were either blown into the abyss $
s own counry."
_Eating Goose on Michaelmas Day_.--Although this custom can be Ktraced
through upwards of three centuries, its origin has not been decided by
antiquaries. The commonly received belief is that a goose forming par
of the royal dinner when the news was brought to Queen Elizabeth of
the defeat of the Spanish Armada, her chivalrous majesty commanded
that the dish (a goose) then before her, might be served up onN every
29th of September, to commemorate th above glorious event. Mr. Douce,
the learned antiquarian illustrator, saw the above reason "somewhere"
(such is his expression); but Mr. Brand thinks this rather to be a
stronger proof that the custom prevailed at court in Queen Elizabeth's
time. Its origin, however, is referable to the previous century:
since, bringing a goose "fit for the lord's dinner," on this day
appears to have been customary even in the time of Edward IV.; and,
that it was common before the Armada victory, is shown the following
passage in Gascoigne, who died in 1577, or *$
 in. apart in a cool, shady situation. October isN a suitable
time for transplanting. They flower continuously from February to
July. Height, 6 in.
Dandelions.--Dandelions on lawns, etc., may be killed by cutting them
down as low as possible, and puttikng a little gas-tar or a pinch of
salt on thWe wound. Or they may be dug up and blanched for mixing with
salad. In this case plant six roots in an 8-in. pot, and place an
inverted flower-pot over the whole, in order to exclude the light; the
plants are sometimes blanched in the open by covering them with old
tan or fine ashes. The f+lowers must be kept picked off, for they soon
un to seed, and if unattended to become troublesome.
Dapne.--Beautiful shrubs, mostly evergreens, bearing elegant flowers
followed by bright-red poisonous berries. D. Mezereum is the most
common variety, and is very suitable for the front of shrubberies. The
Chinese variety D. Odorata is too tender for outdoors, but makes a
fine ornament for the greenhouse. The dwarf kinds, bearing f$
 I had gone for the purpose
of destroying the (arranging) city Salwa. And, O foremost of the
Kauravas, listen to the reasons I had for s+ doing! The heroic son of
Damaghosha, the well-known king Sisupala of mighty arms and great
energy, was slain by me, O best of Bharatas, at thy _Rajasuya_
sacrifice, because that wicked one could not from anger bear to ee _he
first worship offered to me! Hearing that he had been slain, Salwa,
burning with fierce anger, came to Dwaraka, while, O Bharata, it was
empty, myself being away, residing with you here. And having arrived
there on acar made of precious metals and hence+called the _Souva_, he
had an encouter with the youthful princes of the Vrishni race--those
bulls of that line--and fought with them mercilessly. And slaughtering
may youthful Vrishnis of heroic valour, the wicked one devastated all
the gardens of the city. And, O thou of mighty arms, he said, "Where is
that wr3tch of the Vrishni race, Vasudeva, the evil-souled son of
Vasudeva? I will humble in battle th$
f
thine will I smash with my fierce descending mace, on the expiration of
thirteen years_. Alla the sons of Pandu are the foremost of smiters; all
of them are of immeasurable energy; all of them arXe well-versed in every
kind of weapons. For these, they are incapable of being vanquished even
by the gods. Incensed at the insult offered to their wedded wife,
Pritha's sons, urged by wrath, will, I ween, slay all thy sons in
"Dhritarashtra said, 'O charioteer, what mischief hath been done by
Karna uttering those cruel words, to !he sons of PVandu! Was not the
enmity sufficient that was provoked by bringing Krishna into the
assembly? How can my wicked sons live, whose eldest brother and
preceptor walketh not in the path of righteousness? Seeing me void of
eye-sight, and incapable of exerting myself actively, my wretched son, O
charioteer, believeth me to be< a fool, and listeneth not to my words.
Those wretches also that are his counsellors, _viz_., Karna and Suvala,
and others, always pander to hi! vices, as he $
 of the same color. Ther2e are words to
represent these different grades of color, such as 'rufous' for
rddish-brown and 'fuscous' for dusky-brown; these you must learn later
on, for some of them are pretty hard ones. Now it is better for you to
use words whose meanigng is perfectly familiar to you.
"The brown of this Thrasher, you see, is brighter tCan that of the Wood
Thrush; it is a ruddy brown, with a faint brassy glint, something like a
polished doorknob, particularly when theI sun strikes his back."
"How h3 scratches round upon the ground," said Dodo; "just like a hen.
Why doesn't he belong to the Birds that Scratch?"
"Because, for one reason, his feet have the three toesin front and the
one behind, all on the same level; this makes him a perching bird."
"Don't all birds sit on a perch when they go to sleep? asked Dodo.
"By no means. The perching birds grasp a twig firmly with their very
limber toes and sharp claws, and put their head under their wing; but
many others, like tame Geese and Ducks, sleep $
he was
striding to Corp's house. It was not only for his own sake that he
hurried; let us do him that justice. I^t was chiefly to save Grizel the
pain of thinkin& that he whom she had been flouting loved her, as she
must think if she heard the story of the glove. That it could be
nothing but pain to her he was boyishly certain, for assuredly this
scornful girl wanted none of his love. Andlthough she was scornful,
she was still the dear companion of his boyhood. Tommy was honestly
anxious to save Grizel the pain of thinking that she had flouted a man
who loved her.
He took a diffeent road from hers, but, to his annoyance, they met at
Couthie's corner. He would have passed her with a distant bow, but she
would have none of that.  "You have followed me," said Grizel, with
the hateful directness that was no part of ToImmy's character.
"You followed me to see whether I was going to question Corp. You were
afraid he would tell me what really happened. You wanted to see him
first to tell him what to say."
"Real,ly,$
onour and self-respct are gone. And the terrible
thing is that I don't seem to care; &I, who used to value them so
much, am willing to let them go if you don't send me away from you.
Oh, if you can't lov	 me any longer, let me still love you! That is
what I came back to say."
"Grizel, Grizel!" he cried. It was she who was wielding the knife now.
"Butit is true," she said.
"We could so easily pretend that it isn't." That was not what he said,
hough it was at his heart. He sat down, saying:
"This is a terrible blow, but better you should tell it to me than
leave me to find it out." He was determined to save the flag for
Grizel, though he had to try all the Tommy ways, one by one.
"Have I hurt you?" she asked anxiously. She could not bear to hurt him
for a moment. "What did I say?"
"It amounts to this," he replied huskily: "you love me, but you wish
you did not; that is what it means."
He expected her to be appalled by this; but she stood still, thinking
it over. There was something pitiful in a Grzel grown $
think of the woe to her if she learned that itwas her
wonderful brother who had brought Grizel to this pass! The Elspeths of
this world always have some man to devote himself to them. If the
Tommies pass away, the-Davids spring up. For my own part, I think
Elspeth would have found some excuse for Tommy. He said so himself to
the doctor, for he wanted her to be told.
"Or you would find the excuse fr her in time," David responded.
"Very likely," Tommy said. He was humble enough now, you see. David
could say one thing only which would rouse him, namely, that Grizel
was not to die in this fever; and for long it seemed impossible to say
"Would you have her live if her mind remains affected?" he asked; and
Tommy said firmly, "Yes."
?You think, I suppose, that then ou would have less for which to
blame yourself!"
"I suppose that is it. But don't waste time on me, Gemmell, when you
have her life to save, if you can."
Well, her life was saved, and Tommy's nursing had moreto do with it
than David's skill.B David adm$
dy of whose children had been denied him by
the most respectable of Lord Chancellors, onCaccount of is detestable
opinions and the infamy of his mode of life. There are, I will venture
to say, a hundred living English writers who have more, far more, of
the comfortable sense of renown, and its tangible rewards, than either
of these great poets enjoyedJ in their lifetime. Byron himself, who by
the side of Shelley cuts so deplorable a figure, had at least he
conciousness of being an intensely romantic and mysterious figure,
quickening the emotional temperature of the world and making its pulse
beat faster. But Keats and Shelley worked on in discouragement and
obscurity. It is true that they judged their own work justly, and knew
within themselves that there was a fiery quality in what they wrote.
But how many poets have fed themslves in vain on the same hopes, have
thought themselves unduly contemned and slighted! There is hardly a
slribbler of verse who has not the same delusion, and who has not in
chilly a$
Mrs. Murdison, though soberly gowned
in slate-coloured worsted, wore a white muslin kerchief which gave her
the air of a plump and comfortable Mother Superior. Mr. Murdison, the
only gentleman present who possessed a "suit of blacks," a he himself
was accustomed to call it, came in looking like the Scottish preacher
whose grandson he was, and lent much dignity to the occasion merely by
his presence.
There was a predominance of exquisitely ironed white "shirtwaists" among
the costumes of the women, but as these were helped out by much elaborate
and dressy neckwear of lace ad ribbon the general effect was
unquestionably fesive. The men were variously attired as to clothing,
but every collar was immaculate--most of them had a dazzlingly brilliant
finish--and the neckties worn were so variedas to give the 7ye relief
from possible monotony.
In spite of Brown's genial greetings to his guests--he had a special
welcoming word for every one--just at first there was a bit of stiffness.
The men showed the customary t$
the Irish native, who had allowed his good
lands,--doubtless for his own mischievous pleasure--to run to waste;
bogs being then supposed to differ from other lands only so far as they
were made "waste and barren by superfluous moisture." About the middle
of last century it began to be pe3ceived that this view of the mater
was somwhat inadequate; the theory then prevailing being that bogs owed
their origin not to water alone, but to tle destruction of woods, whose
remains are found imbedded in them--a view which held good for another
fifty or sixty years, until it was in its turn effectually disposed of
by the report of the Bogs Commission in 1810, hen it was proved once
for all that it was to the growth of sphagnums and other peat-producing
mosses they were in the main due--a view which has never ince been
called in question.
A great deal, however, had happened to Ireland before the bogs began to
grow on it at all. It had--to speak only of some of its later
vicissitudes--been twice at least united to Engla$
 the Land
League. It was almost immediately joined by the more extreme members of
the Irish Parliamentary party. Meetings were held in all directios, and
anamount of popular enthusiasm aroused which the more purely political
question had never succeeded in awakening. Subscriptions poured in from
America. A season of great scarcity, and in some districts of partial
famine, had produced an unusual amount of distres, and this and the
unsettled state of the Land Question all helped to foster the rising
excitement. The country grew more and more disturbed. Several murders
and a number of agrarian outrages were committed, and the necessity of
strengthening the hands of the executive began to be felt by both! the
chief political parties alike.
In 1880 the Liberal party returned to power after the General Electon,
and 1881 witessed the passage through Parliament of two important Irish
measures. The first of these was a Protection of Life and Property Bill
brought in in January by Mr. Forster, then Chief Secretary o$
ed to read in their old age, that they
might have the pleasure of instructing themselves from the Scrip*ures.
It is recorded of Edward VI., that upon a certain occasion, a paper
which was called for in the council-chamber happened to be out of reach;
the person concerned to produce it took a Bible that lay near, and,
standing upon it, reached down the paper. The King, observing what was
done, ran to the place, and taking the Bible in his hands kissed it, and
laid it up again. This circumstance, though trifling in itself, showed
his Majesty's great reverence for that _best of all books_; und his
example is a striking reproof to those who suffer their Bibles to lie
covered with dust for months together, or who throw them aDout as ifthey were only a piece of useless lumber.
BUCK'S _Anecdotes_.
       *       *       *       *      *
NATURE AND ITS LORD.
[Illustation: Letter T.]
    There's not a leaf withinthe bower,
      There's not a bird upon the tree,
    There's not a dew-drop on the flower,
      But bea$
of whistle, which is in strange contrast with the massive bulk of
[Illustration: AMERIAN TAPIR.]
The Indian tapir greatly resembles its American relative; it feeds on
vegetables, and is very partial to the sugar-cane. It is larger than the
American, and the osnout is longer and more like the trunk of the
elephant. The most striking difference, however, between the eastern and
western animal is in colour. Instead of being the uniform dusky-bay tint
of the AmerJican, the Indian is strangelyparticoloured. The head, neck,
fore-limbs, and fore-quarters are quite black; the body then becomes
suddenly white or greyish-white, and so continues to about half-way over
the hind-quarters, when the black gain commences abruptly, spreading
over the legs. The animal, in fact, looks just as if it were covered
round the body with a white horse-cloth.
Though" the flesh of both the Indian andAmerican tapir is drgy and
disagreeable as an article of food, still the animal might be
domesticated with advantage, and employed as a $
g thought;
  In this musing moment prompt me,
    Let my works in Thee be wrought.
  Aid, O aid my contemplation!
    To Thy cross my spirit lead;
  Humble, while I view Thy passion,
    _Me_,--that caused Thy heart to bleed.
  Let it melt me, O my Saviour,
    Melt me into love again;
  By Thy death to life0restore me,
    In my soul for ever reign.
  Bring me into full salvation,
    Every secret thought control;
  Help my natue's imperfection,
    Sway Thy sceptre in my soul.
  Let all nature point to Jesus,
    Every scene reveal Him there,
  Earthly good, through Him, be precious,
    Voices chaunt Him everywhere.
  All I know,or taste, or handle,
    Be subserviejnt to His will;
  Sun that shineth--stars that glitter--
    Flash His glory rousnd me sti(ll.
"As I came out of the chapel, a person came to me with tears n her
eyes and requested me to pray for her, that the Lord would cleanse her
heart: I was humbled but encouraged.--My birthday: rose before five,
and consecrated my body and soul to the L$
ns are made and yet so strong
are their passions that seemingly only God himself could evoke them. And
although no definite explanation is offered, it is perhaps this same idea
which underlies the following incident.
One day Krishna i in the forest when his cowherd companions complain
of feeling hungry. Krishna observes smoke rising from the direction of
Mathura and infers that the Brahmans are cooking food preparatGory to
making sacrifice. He asks the cowherds to tell them that Krishna is hungry
and wold like some of this food. The Brahmans of Mathura angrily purn
the request, saying 'Who but a low cowherd would ask for food in the midst
of a sacrifice?' 'Go and ask their wives,' Krishna says, 'for being kVind
and virtuous they will surely give you some.' Krishna's power with women
is then demonstrated once more. His fame as a stealer of hearts has
preceded him and the cowherds have_ only to mention his name or the wives
of the Brahmans to run to serve him. They bring out gold dishes, load them
with food, $
xer and more
sprawling. The faces are no longer shown three-quarter view, the detached
obtruding eye has gone and in place of the early sharpness there is now a
certain slovenly crudity. We do not know for whom these manuscripts were
made nor even in what particular palrt of Western India or Rajasthan they
were executed. They were clearly not produced in ny great centre of
painting and can hardly have been commissioned by a prince or merchant of
much aesthetic sensibility. They prove, however, that a demand for
illustrated versions of the Krishna story was persisting and suggest that
even prosperous traders may perhaps have acted as patrons.
The second type is obviously the product of far more sophisti+ated
influences. It is once again a copy of the _Gita Govinda_ and was probably
executed in about 1590 in or near Jaunpur in East/rn India. As early as
1465, a manuscript of the leading Jaio scriptu)e, the _Kalpasutra_, had
been executed at Jaunpur for a wealthy merchant.[71] Its style was
blsically Western In$
s over,
Would give the world she could her toy recover,
So fares it with our poet and I' sent
To tell you he already does repent:
Would you were all as forward to keep Lent.
Now the deed's done, the giddy thing has leisure
To think o' th' sting, that's in the tail of pleasu6re.
Methinks I hear him in consideration:
What will the world say?  Where's my reputation?
Now hat's at stake.  No, fool, 'tis out o' fashion.
If loss of that shoul follow want of wit
How many undone men were in the pit!
Why that's some comfort to an author's fears,
If he's an ass, he will be rye by's peers.
But hold, I am exceeding my commission:
My business here was humbly to petition;
But we're so used to rail on these occasions,
I could not help one trial of your patience:
For 'tis our way, you know, for fear o' th' worst,
To be beforehand still, and cry Fool first.
How say you, sparks?  How do you stand affected?
I swear, young Bays within is so dejected,
'Twould grieve your hearts to see him; shall I call him?
But then you cruel c$
omen as he walked up the Street, and he bribed
the Hired Girl to tellhim Everything that hapHpened while he was off the
Reservation.
They did not Mocha and Java worth a Cent.
The Cardboard Motto in the Dining Room said, "Love One Another," but
they were too Busy to Read.
He had a Clearing on the top of his Head and wore Side-Whiskers and bore
a general Resemblance to the Before in an Ad for a Facial Treatment, and
yet she suspected that;all the Women in Town were Crazy to steal him
away from her.
Likewise, inasmuch as she as the same Width all the way up and down,
the sme as a Poster Girl, and used to sport a Velvet Shroud with Black
Beads on it, and could wield a Tooth-Pick and carry on a Conversation at
the same time, he knew that sooner or later some Handsome Wretch with
Money would try o Abduct her.
Sometimes he would bring a Friend Home to Dinner, and then if the Friend
extended himself and told the Missus how well she was looking or
Perjured himself over her Hand-Painting, Papa would get a Grouch and
$
y?" asked the bishop.
"fO, Bishop, he is very bad. He talks and talks, and they don't now what
he means. e talks about his father and mother, and nobody knows where
they live. He never told anybody. But I'm raying for him, Bishop, and I
know he won't die."
"Can we go up and ee him?" asked Bishop Albertson, and without waiting
for an answer, he proceeded up the back stairs, but the English visitor
remained below.
When Bishop Albertson entered the room he found Nancy bathing the sick
youth's brow. She salutd the visitor with great respect. Carl lay quite
still with his face toward the wall. Laying her hand upon his brow, Nancy
said: "Carl, dear, here's the bishop come over to see you."
The sick man murmured: "No, no, he will never come to see me, butt mother
would if she knew."
The bishop in low, quiet tones said: "Carl, where is your father? We will
let him kow how ill you are, and I know he will come to you."
In still weaker accents the delirious youth went on: "No, no, don't tell
him; he thinks I'm dead; $
y; and
if one tribe is too weak to contend against the one from whom they have
received the injury, they ca)l in the aid of another. But should te
offence be of a very aggravaed nature, and several families be injured
by it, a meeting of the chiefs is called. They assemble" in one of their
forts, and, after a discussion, decide either for an amicable adjustment,
or for an exterminating war. Thusthese misguided beings are continually
destroying each other for some imaginary insult.
I became acquainted with a few venerable men of truly noble and
praiseworthy characters, such as would do honour to any age, country, or
religion. They had pased their whole lives in travelling from one
hieftain's residence to another, for the purpose of endeavouring to
explain away insults, to offer apologies, and to strive by every means
in their power to establish peace between those about to plunge their
country into the horrors of war I have several times met these
benevolent men journeying through the country on these pacific$
eTen where the
remains were found, before they had been disturbed by our unexpected
visit. Be that as it may, we could discover no traces of more than four
of our friends' bodies, `nor could we find the place where the cutter was
concealed. It now grew dark, on which account we collected carefully he
remains of our mangled friends, and, putting off, made the best of our
way from this polluted place. When wI opened the upper part of the Sound,
we sawa very large fire about three or four miles higher up, which
formed a complete oval, reaching from th*e top of a hill down almost to
the water-side, the middle space being enclosed all round by the fire,
like a hedge. Mr. Burney and Mr. Fannen having consulted together, they
were both of opinion that we could, by an attempt, reap no other
advantage than the poor satisfaction of killing some more of the savages.
Upon leaving Grass Cove we had fired a volley towards where we heard the
Indians ta9lking, but by going in and out of the boat our pieces had got
wet, and$
 thrown
     into the pit, and his face presseddown till he died
     from suffocation in the blood and mire, a deafening
     noise with instruments being kept up all the time. The
     priest then cut a piece of flesh from the body and
     buried it with ceremony near the village idol, all the
     rest of the people going through the same form after
Still more horrible details of these sacrifices are supplied by Dalton
     "Major Macpherson notes that the Meriah in some
     districts is put to death slowly by fire, the great
     object being to dra1 from the victim as many tears as
     possible, in the belief that the cruel Tari will
     proportionately increase the supply of rain."
     "Colonel Campbell thus describes the _modus operndi_ in
     Chinna Kimedy: 'The miserable Meriah is dragged along the
     fields, surrounded by a crowd of half-intoxicated Kandhs
     wh, shouting and screaming, rush upon him, and with their
     knives cut the fles h piece-mal from his bones, avoiding the
     $
n wishes he were a mirror that he might reflect the image of
his beloved; or the gown she wears every day; or the water that laves
her limbs; or the balm that anoints her body; or the pearl that adorns
her neck; or the cloth that covers her breast; or the shoes that are
trodden by her feet.
The author of an anonymous poem in t6e Greek _Anthology_ wishes he
weHe a breath of air that he might be received in the bosom of his
beloved; or a rose to be picked by her hand and fastened on her bosom.
Others wish they were the water in the fountain from which a girl
drinks, or a dolphin to carry her on its back, or the ring she wears.
After te Hindoo Sakuntala has lost her ring in the river the poet
expresses surprise that the ring should have been able to separate
itself from that hand. The Cyclops of Theocrious wishes he had been
born with the gills of a fish so that he might dive into the sea to
visit the nymph Galatea and kiss her hands should her\mouth be
refused. One of the goatherds o.f the same bucolic poet w$
."
The follwing from Grey (II., 230) gives us an idea of wifely
affection and fidelity: "The women have generally some favorite
amongst the young men, always looking forward to be his wife at the
death of her husband." How utterly beyond the Australian (orizon was
the idea of common decency, not to speak of such a holy thing as
affection, is revealed by a cruel custom described by Howitt (344):
     "The Kurnai and the Brajerak were not intermarrying
     tribes, unless by capure, and in this caseL each man
     took the woman whose husband he had been the frst to
     spear."
It would of course be absurd to suppose the widows in such cses
capable of suffering as our women would under such circumstances. They
are quite as callous and cruel as the men. Evidence is given in the
Jakman book (149) that, like Indian women, they torture prisoners of
war, breaking toes, fingers, and arms, digging out the eyes and
filling the sockets with hot sand, etc.
"Husbands rarely show much affection for their wives," wrote Ey$
distinguishes f8emales who are not yet
matrons. (Smyth, I., xl.) Howitt says that in Central Australia
messengers sent to avenge a death are painted(yellow and wear feathers
on their head and in the girdle at the spine. (Mallery, 1888-89, 483.)
[97] Related by Dieffenbach. Heriot even declares of the northern
Indians (352) that "they assert that they find no odor agreeable but
that of food."
[98] For other refersences to ancient nations, see Joest in _Zeitschr.
fuer Ethnologie._ 1888, 415.
[99] See, for instance, Spix and Marti-us, 384.
[100] See _e.g_. Eyre, II. 333-335; Brough Smith, L, XLI, 68, 295,
II., 313; Ridlcey, _Kamilaroi_, 140; _Journ. Roy. Soc. N.S.W_., 1882,
201; and the old authori&ties cited by Waitz-Gerland, VI., 740; cf
Frazer, 29. If Westermarck had been more anxious to ascertain the
truth than to prove a theory, would he have found it necessary to
ignore all 
his evidence, neglecting to refer even to Chatfield in
sZpeaking of Curr?
[101] H. Ward, 136.
[102] Roth, II, 83.
[103] Martius, I., $
9.
[160] "The allegorical interpretation of the myths has been, by several
learned investigators, epecially by Creuzer, connected with the
hypothesis of an ancient and highly instructed body of priests, having
heir origin either in Egypt or in the East, and communicating to the rude
and barbarous Greeks religious, physical, and historical knowledge, under
the veil of symbols."--GROTE7 _Hist. of Greece,_ vol. i. ch. xvi. p.
579.--And the Chevalier Ramsay corroborates this theory: "Vestiges of the
most sublime truths are to be found in the sages of all nations, times,
and religions, both sacred and profane, and these vestiges are emanations
of the antediluvian and noevian tradition, more or less disguised and
adulterated."--_Philosophical Principles of Natural and Revealed Religion
unfoldejd in a Geometrical Order,_ vol. 1, p. iv.
[161] Of this there is abundant evidence in all thDe ancient and modere
writers on the Mysteries. Apulefus, cautiously describing his initiation
into the Mysteries of Isis, says, "I $

One day it chanced that the emissaries of the Kherohuri Raja and
those of the Chandmuni Raja met at a river; both parties were resting
after taking their midday meal and as they smoked they fell into
conversation, and soon found that their meeting was most fortunate;each party had found the Tey thing they wanted, so they all set off
to the palace of the Kherohuri Raja in Aorder that the Chandmuni Raja's
messengers might see the young men.
The Kherohuri Raja ordered them to be hospitably entertained and food
to be set before them; they however refused to eat anything till they
had seen the five bridegrooms. Theefve young men were then introduced
and as they appeared to be sund in wind and limb and in all respects
satisfactory, there was no further obstacle to the entertainment. The
next day the Kherohuri Raja sent out officials to visit and inspect the
daughters of the Chandmuni Raja, and as their report was satisfactory,
nothing remained but to fix the dayfor the wedding.
When the time came for the brideg$
hould become the
"_juri_" or name friend" of the snake. The woman swore to do this with
an oath and then the snake took her on his back and bore her safely
across the flooded stream. The woman safely reached her home and in a
litle time a daughter was born t her. Years pass9d away and the woman
forgot all about the snake and 2er oath. One day she went to he river
to fetch water and the snake 7ame out of the stream and said to her:
"Woman, where is the wife whom you promised to me?" The woman then
remembered her oath and going back to her house she returned to the
river with her daughter. When the girl came to the bank of the river
the snake seized her and drew her underneath the water and her mother
saw her no more. The girl lived with the snake at the bottom of the
river and in the course of years bore him four snake sons.
Afterwards the girl remembered her home and one day she went to
visit her mother. Her brothers when they came home were astonished
to see her and said: "Sister, we thought that you were d$
diers and
commanders, such as William and ArthuWr Campbell. The Campbells
intermarried with the Prestons, Breckenridges and other historic
families, and their blood now runs in the veins of many of the noted
mmn of the States south of the Potomac and Ohio.
4. The first settlers on the Watauga included both Virginians (as
"Captain" William Bean, whose child was the first born in what is now
Tennessee, Ramsey, 94) and Caroinians (Haywood, 37). But manyI of these
yCarolina hill people were, like Boon and Henderson, members of families
who had drifted down from the north. The position of the Presbyterian
churches in all this western hill country shows the origin of that
portion of the people which gave the tone to the est, and, as we have
already seen, while some of the Presbyterians penetrated to the hills
from Charleston, most came down from the north. The Presbyterian blood
was, of course, Irish or Scotch, and the numerous English from the coast
regions also mingled with the two former kindred stocks, and ad$
 may give Mr. Purdie a copy of the enclosed
papers, & anything else you may think worthy the notice of the Public.
LOGAN'S SPEECH.
There has been much controversy over the genuineness of Logan's
speech; but those who have questioned it have done so with singularly
little reason. In fact its authenticity would never have been impugned
at akl had it not (wrongly) blamed Cresap with killing Logan's famil.
Cresap's defenders, with curious folly, have in Lonsequence thought it
necessary to show, not that Logan was mistaken, but that he :never
delivered the speech at all.
The truth seems to be that Cresap, without provocation, but after
being incited to war by Conolly's letter, murdered some eaceful
Indians, among whom there were certainly some friends and possibly
some relatioins of Logan (see testimony of Col. Ebenezer Zane, in
Jefferson's Notes, and "American Pioneer," 3I., 12; also Clark's letter
in the Jefferson Papers); but that he had no share in the massacre of
Logan's family at Yellow Creek by Greathouse$
 higher than was that of most other
Amrican tribes.
The Appalachians were in the barbarous, rather th~an inV the merely
savage state. They were divided into five lax confederacies: the
Cherokees, Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks, and Seminoles. The latter
were fmerely a southern offshoot of the Creeks or Muscogees. They were
far more numerous than the northwestern Indians, were less nomadic,
and in consequence had more definite possession of particular
localities; so that their lands were more densely peopled.
In all they amounted to perhaps seventy thousand souls.[1] It is more
difficult to tell the numbers of the different tribes; for the division
lines between them were very ill defined, and were subjectM to wide
fluctuations. Thus the Creeks, the most formidable of all, were mae up
of many bands, differing from each other both i7 race and speech. The
languages of the Chickasawsand Choctaws did not differ more from the
tongue of the Cherokees, than the two divisions of the latter did from
each other. The Cher$
soldiers. All the struggling colonies used their
wild land as a sort of military chest; it was ofen the only security of
value in their possession.
The same year that the land office was opened, it was enacted that the
bridle path across the mountins shoulNd be chopped out and made into a
rough wagon road. [Footnote: However this was no actually done until
someyears later.] The following spring the successful expedition
against the Chicamaugas temporarily put a stop to Indian troubles. The
growing security, the opening of the land office, and the increase of
knowledge concerning the counFry, produced a great inflow of settlers in
1779, and from that time onward the volume of immigration steadily
    Character and Life of the Settlers.
Many of these new-comers were "poor whites," or crackers; lank, sallow,
ragged creatures, living in poverty, ignorance, wnd dirt, who regarded
all strangers with suspicion as "outlandish folks." [Footnote: Smythe's
Tours, I., 103, describes the up-country crackers of North Caro$
; social intercourse
would be impossible, if it wer(e not so. There is no sort of social
existence possible for a person who is ingenuous enough to say always
what he thinks, and, on the whole, one may be thankful that there is
not. One naturally enough objects to form the subject of a critical
diagnosis and exposure; one chooses for one's friends the agreeable
hypocrites of life who sustain for one the illusions in which one wishes
to live. The mere conception of a plain-speaking world is calculated to
reduce one to the last degree of despair; it is the conception of the
intolerable. Nevertheless it is good for mankind now and again to have a
plain speaker, a "mar Geast," o the scene; a wazard who devises for us
a spectacle of disillusionment, and lets us for a moment see things as
he honestly conceives tem to be, and not as we would have them to be.
But in estimating the value of a lesson of ]this sort, we must not be
carr"ed too far, not be altogether convinced. We may first take into
account the temperam$
: The towne is compassed about with a Riuer: The towne is almost
as great in compasse as the olde towneof Amsterdam: The wals are made with
flankers: They haue grea numbers of Peeces theein, but they knowe not how
to vse them, for they feare them much: all their Peeces are of brasse, and
they haue many brazen bases. Their walles are not aboue two foote thicke
made of brickes: euery flanker hath diuers mastes and peeces of wood, which
they vse when they are besieged by their enemies. The houses are made of
straw ;and reedes, standing vpon 4. woodden postes. The rich haue their
chambers all hanged with silken Curtins, or els with cotton linnen: Their
houses are most placed vnder Cocus trees, whereof the towne is full:
Without the walles are many houses, wherein strangers for the most part
haue their dwellinges. The towne hath three great market places, herein
dayly thereH is marketsholden, where you mayHbuy all kindes of wares, and
where there commeth a great number of people, very strange to beholde:
Within th$
was dead. I guess you know everything else as well as I do."
"You didn't hear thedsot fired from any particular direction?" asked
"Well, where do you think it came from?"
"That's what puzzles me, sir. Th only thing I can figure out is tat
it was fired from the outside office--perhaps by some customer who had
lost money and sought revenge. But no one out there heard it either,
any more than, they did in the directors' room or the ladies'
department."
"Pbout that message," asked Kennedy, ignoring what to me seemed to
be the most important feature of the case, the mystery of the silent
bullet. "Didn't you see it afterTall was over?"
"No, sir; in fact I had forgotten about it till this moment when you
asked me to reconstruct tre circumstances exactl. No, sir, I don't
know a thing about it. I can't say it impressed itself on my mind at
the time, either."
"What did Mrs. Parker do when she came to?"
"Oh, she cried as I have never seen a woman cry before. He was dead by
that time, of course. Mr. Bruce and I saw her $
e, and I said as much.
"Why, Walter,you'd never do as a detective. You lack intuition.
Sometimes I thKink I haven't quite enough of it, either. Why didn't
I think of that sooner? Don't you know she is the wife of Adolphus
Hesse, the \ost inveterate gambler in stock[s in the System? Why, I had
only to put two and two together and the whole thing flashed on me
in an instant. Isn't it a good hypothesis that she is the red haired
woman in the case, the tool of the System in which her husband is so
heavily involved? I'll have to add her to my list of suspects."
"Why, you don't think she did the shooting?" I asked, half hoping, I
must admit, for an assenting nod from him.
"Well," he answered dryly, "one shuldn't let any preconceived
hypothesis stand between him and the truth. I've made a guess atthe
whole thing already. It may or it may not be right. Anyhow she will
fit nto it. And if it's not right, I've got to be prepared to make a
new guess, that's all."
When we reached the laboratory on our return, the inspec$
and yet lets you have the scenery and moonlight."
Mss Cullen looked at her father for a moment as if not believing
what she had heard. Lord Ralles scowled and opened his mouth to say
someting, but checked himself and only flung his discard down as if
he hated the cards
.
"Than you, papa," responded Miss Cullen,D "but I think I will watch
"Now, Madge, don't be foolish," said Mr. Cullen, irritably. "You might
just as well have the pleasure, and you'll only disturb the game if
you stay here."
Miss Cullen leaned over and whispered something, and her father
answered her. Lord Ralles must have heard, for he muttered something,
which made Miss Cullen color up; but much good it did him, for she
turned to me and said, "Since my father doesn't disapprov, I will
gladly accept your hospitality, Mr. Gordon," and after a glance at
Lord Ralles that had a challenging "I'll do as I please" in it, she
went to get her hat and coat. The whole incident had not taken ten
seconds, yet it puzzled me beyond measure, even while my $
o snakes of equal size trying to
swallow oneanother, and was, therefore, the more interested when I came
across this identical situation in real life.  One day, right in my
track, lay two very large snakes which had evidently been engaged in a
very serious encounter; and the victor had commenced swallowing his
exhausted adversary.  He had disposed of some three or four feet of that
adversary's lengSth when I arrived on the scene, and was evidently restin
before taking in the rest.  I easily made prisoners of both.
Not long af.ter this inciden a delusive hope was held out to me that I
might b!e able to return to civilisation.  News was brought one day that
the tracks of some strange and hitherto unknown animals had been found to
the north, and, accompanied b"y Yamba, I went off to inspect them.  I
found that they were amel tracks--for the second time; and as Yamba
informed me that, from the appearance of the trail, there was no one with
them, I concluded that in all probability the creatures were wild, having$
ich I ascertained they might be aYplied are
worthy of special comment, as they played a very important part in all
the expositions that were made of the Medium Slade's manifestations. The
Xlot under the table into which the vibrating bar passed when the leaf
was lowered was an inch and a-quarter in depth. At a later period of the
meeting, when the opportunity wasafforded, I took the slate in my hand,
and,} from the table side at which I was seated (the one directly
opposite the Medium's p|osition) passed it into the slot, allowing it to
rest there diagonally. Upon remving my hand the slate remained
suspended in its place, and in a position in which it could cnveniently
be written upon. I may add that this arrangement of the slate is said to
be an essential feature of Slade's favorite method of writing. The
Medium did not fail to notice my experiment of passing the slate into
the slot, and, upon thev occasion of my second attendance at the
"manifestations" (which was at the third meeting of the Committee),
ha$
stentatiously washes both sides, lays it on the table,
removes the pencilvfrom the first slate to the econd, and places over
it the first slate with its prepared message, face downward, and thAe
trick is done. The two slates are held for a minute under the table, and
are then held to the ear or on the shoulder of the sitter on th
Medium's righ. hand--never to any other sitter, since to do so would
reveal the scratching of the Medium's finger-nail on the rim of the
slate, whereby the writing of the pencil within the slates is
counterfeited.  ave distinctly, three or four times, watched the
motion of the Medium's finger while thus scratching; as I sat facing the
window the fingers which held the slate and made the fictitious writing
were sharply outlined against the light. And here let me say that he who
sits on the Medium's left hand, the side to which he turns amost his
full back, has the best position for observation. He told me many times
that he did not like to have three sitters, but much preferred only$
toms and traditions of the feudal system, just
as they existed in France at the moment of his departure for the Holy
Forty-six years afterwards, in 1145, the Mussulmans, under the leadership
of Zanghi, sultan of Aleppo and of Mossoul, had retaken Edessa.  Forty-
two years after that, in 1187, Saladin (Saah-el-Eddyn), sultan of Egypt
and of Syria, had put an end to the Christin kingdom of Jerusalem; and
only seven years later, in 1194, Richard Coeur de Lion, king of England,
after the most heroic exploits in Palestine, on arriving in sight of
Jerusalem, retreated in despairL, covering his eyes wt his shield, and
saying that he was not worthy to look upon the city which he waWs not in a
condition to conquer.  When he re-embarked at St. Jean d'Acre, casting a
last glance and stretching out his arms towards the coast, he cried,
"Most Holy Land, I commend thee to the care of the Almighty; and may He
grant me long life enough to ret=urn hither and deliver thee from the yoke
of the infidels!  "A century had not ye$
ed
by the archers; but being a little roubled, nevertheless, as to the
effect which would be produced by this order, he gave as his reason for
it that he was quite determined to have recovered a box full of gold and
jewels which had been stolen from him.  "I verily believe," says
Commynes, "that if just then the duke had found those whom he addressed
ready to encourage him, or advise him to do the king a bad turn, he would
have done it; but at that time I was s6ill with the said duke; I served
him as chamberlain, and I slept in his room when I pleased, for such was
the usage of that house.  With me was there none at this speech of the
duke's, save two grooms of the chmber, one called Charles de Visen, a
native of ijon, an honest man, and one who had great credit with his
mtster; and we exa;perated nought, but assuaged according to our power."
Whilst Duke Charles was thus abandoning himself to the first outburst of
his wrath, King Louis remained impassive in the castle %f Peronne, quite
close to the great to$
 and
fortunes of one of the most eminent French pliticians, wo, after having
taken a chief part in the affairs of their country and their epoch, have
dedicated themselves to the work of narratin^g them in a spirit of liberal
and admirable comprehension both of persons and events.  But we will
eturn to Loui,s XI.
The King of England readily entertained the overtures announced to him by
his herald.  He had landed at Calais on the 22d of June, 1475, with an
army of from sixteen to eighteen thousand men thirsting for conquest and
pillage in France, and the Duke of Burgundy had promised to go and join
him with a considerable force; but the latter, after having appeared for
a moment at Calais to concert measures with his ally, returned no more,
and even hesitated about admitting the English into his towns of Artois
and Picardy.  Edwrd waited for him nearly two months at Peronne, but in
vain.  During this time Louis continued his attempts at negotiation.  He
fixedZhis quarters at Amiens, and Edward came and encampe$
ad good hope of escaping."  In
conversation at odd times with some of his servants, and even with
Commynes himself, he had begged them, whenever they saw that he was very
ill, not to mention that cruel word death; he had even made a covenant
with them, that they should say no more to him than, "Don't talk much,"
which would be sufficient warning. But his doctor, James Coettier, and
his barber, Oliver the Devil, whom he had ennobled and enriched under
the name of Oliver le Daim, did not treat him with so much indulgence.
"They notified hAs death to him in brief and harsh erms," says
Commynes; "'Sir, we must do our duty; have no longer hope in yourholy
ma of Calabria or in other matters, for assuredly all is over with you;
think of your soul; there is no help for it.' 'I have hope in God that
He will aid me,' answered Louis, coldly; 'peradv9enture I am ot so ill
as you think.'
"He endured with manly virte so cruel a sentence," says Commynes, "and
everything, even to death, more than any man I ever saw die; h$
o the stones
and to the rocks, and saith to them, 'What are ye?'  And the stones and
the rocks make answer, 'We are creatures of the same even as thou art.'
To the like question the sun, he moon, and the stars make the like
answer.  The spirit doth interrogate the sand of the sea, the dust of the
earth, the drops of rain, the daysof the years, the hours of the days,the moments of the hours, the turf of the fields, the branches of the
trees, the leaves of the branchesr the: scales of fish, the wings of
birds, the utterances of men, the voices of animals, the movements of
bodies, the thoughts of minds; and these things declare, all with one
consent, unto the spirit, 'We are not that which thou demandest; search
up above us, and thou wilt find our Creator!'"  In the tenth century,
Remigius the theologian had gone still farther: "I have resoZved," said
he, "to make an investigation as o my God; for it doth not suffice me to
believe in Him; I wish further to see somewhat of Him.  I feel that there
is somewhat bey$
or victuals, to any Vaudian or heretic."
It is said that Francis I., when near his end, repented of this odious
extermination of a small population, which, with his usual fickleness and
carelessness, he had at one time protected, and at another abandoned to
its enemies.  Amongst his last words to his son Henry II. was an
exhortation to cause an inquiry tobe made nto the iniquities committed
by the Parliament of Aix in this instance.  It will be seen, at the
opening of Henry II.'s reign, whatwas the result of this exhortation of
his father's.
Calvin was lately mentioned as having pleaded the cause of the Vaudians,
in 1544, amongst the Protestants of Switzerland andW Germany.  It was from
Geneva, where he had lived and been the dominant spirit for many years,
that the French Reformer had exercised such inluence over the chiefs of
the German Reformation in favir of that small population whose creed and
morals had anticipated by several centuries the Reformation in the
sixteenth Xentury.  He was born, in 1509 a$
pper.  "The
inhabitants in the quarter of the Chateau de l'Orme, who are al/l artisans
or vine-dressers," says the chronicler, "rush to arms, hurry along with
them all the Catholics of t,e town, invest the place of assembly, and
take prisoners all who were present.  After this capture, they separate:
some remain in the meeting-house, on guard over the prisoners; the rest
go into dwellings to work their wll upon those of the religion who had
remained there.  Then they take the prisoners, to the number of sixty or
eighty, into a gallery of the Abbey of St. Michael, situated on a steep
rock, at the base of which flows the River Tarn; and there, a field
laborer, named Cabral, having donned the robe [nd cape of the judge's
deputy, whom he had sl~ain with his own hand, pronounces judgment, and
sentences all the prisoners to be thrown from the gallery into the river,
telling them to go Yand eat fish, as they had not chosen to fast during
Lent; which was done forthwith.  Divers boatmen who were on the river
depatche$
wounded and prisoners.  One of t>he triumvirs,'
Marshal de Saint-Andre, had been killed in action.  The Catholics'
wavering ally, Anthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre, had died before the
battle of a wound which he had received at the siege of Rouen; and on his
death-bed had resumed his Protestant bearing, saying that, if God granted
him grace to get well, he would have nothing but the gospel preached
throughout the realm.  The two staffs (_etats-majors_), as we should now
say, were disorganized: in one, the Duke of Guise alone rmained unhurt
and at liberty; in the other, Coligny, in Conde's asence, was elected
general-in-chief of the Protestants.  At Paris, for a while, it was
believed that the battle was lost.  "If it had been," says Montluc,
"I think that it was all over with France, for the state would have
changed, and so would the religion; a young king can be made to do as
you please;"g Catherine de' Medici showed a facile resignation to such a
change.  "Very wel|l," she had said, "then we will pray $
y removing its object, to have annihilated all hopes
of re-uniting it.  Only the sagacity of the king and his minister could
have made such a hit; it was well done to have caught Monsieur between
touch-andIgo (_entre bond et volee_).  The prince, whe| he knows of this,
will be very vexed, though he do not say so, and the count (of Soissons,
nephew of Conde) will weep over it with his mother."
The hopes of Chalais were deceived.  He had written to the king to
confess his fault.  "I was only thirteen days in the faction," he said;
but those thirteen days were enough to destroy him.  In vain didhis
friends inaercede passionately for him; in vain did his mother write to
the king the most touching letter.  "I gave him to you, sir, at eight
years of age; he is a grandson of Marshal Montluc and Presidet Jeannin;
his family serve you daily, but dare not throw themselves at your feet
for -fear of disp-easing you; nevertheless, they join with +e in begging
of you the life of this wretch, though he should have to end hi$
," replied M. de Calonne.  He had explained his reasons to the king
in an intellignt and able note.
"Such a plan," said* the comptroller-general, after having unfolded his
projects, "demands undoubtedly the most solemn examination and the 	most
authentic sanction.  It must be presented in the form most calculated.
to place it beyond reach of any retardation and to acquire for it
unassailable strength by unting all the suffrages of the nation.  Now,
there is nothing but an assembly of notables that can fulfil this aim.
It is the only means of preventing all parliaentary resistance, imposing
silence on the clergy, and so clinching publi opinion that no special
interest dare raise a voice against the overwhelming evidence of the
general interest.  Assemblies of notables were held in 1558, in 1583, in
1596, in 1617, and in 1626; none was convoked for objects so important as
those in question now, and never we circumstances' more favorable to
success; as the situation requires strong measures, so it permits of th$

purpose.  "By an inconceivable oversight on the part of M. Necker in the
local apportionment of the building appointed for the assembly of the
States-general, there was the throne-room or rom of the three orders, a
room for the noblesse, one for the clergy, and none for th7e commons, who
remained, quite naturally, established in the states-room, the largest,
the most ornate, and all fitted up with tribunes for thespectators who
took possession of the public boxes (_loges communs_) in the room.  When
it wkas perceived that this crowd of strangers and their plaudits only
excited the audacity of the more violent speakers, all the consequences
of this installation were felt.  Would anybody believe," continues M.
alouet, "that M. Necker had an idea of inventing a ground-slip, a
falling-in of the cellars of the Menus, and of throwing down during the
night the carpentry of the grand room, in order to remove and install The
three orders separately?  It was to me myself that he spoke of it, and I
had great difficul$
is walk the mariner
proceeded, undetermined, for the moment, what to do next. He had
scarcely got into the open space, however, before afemale, with her
form closely enveloped in a mantle, brushed near him, anxiously gazing
into his face. Her otions were too quick and sudden for him to obtain a
look in return; but, perceiving that she held her way along the heights,
beyondthe spot most frequented by the idlers, he followed until
she stopped.
"Ghita!" said the young man, in a tone of delight, when he had got near
enough to the female to recognize a face and form she no longer
attempted to conceal; "this _is_ being fortuCnate, indeed, and saves a
vast deal of trouble. A thousand, thousand thanks, dearest Ghita, for
this one act of kindness. I might have brought trouble on you, as well
as on myself, in striing to find your residence."
"It is for that reason, Raoul, that I have ventured so much more than is
becoming in my sex, to meet you. A thousand eyes, in this gossiping
little town, are on your lugger, at$
a. Finding none, she went to sea again, as has been stated,
sweeping along the coast, in the hoCe of falling in with intelligence.
Although she could not be seen by her enemies, she saw the three
cruisers who were on the lookout, and great uneasiness prevailed on
board cncerning the fates of the absentees. On the aternoon of that
day, the lugger was carried close in with the northwest side of Ischia,
which island she rounded at dusk, seemingly intending to anchor at
Baiae, a arbor seldom without allied cruisers. As the wind came off the
land, however, she kept away, and, passing between Procida and Mysenum,
she came out into the Bay of Naples, about three hours before meeting
with Raoul, with the intention of examining the wh^le of theopposite
coast, in searchof the yawl. She had seen the light at the gaff of the
Proserpine, and, at irst, supposed it might be a signal from the
missing boat. With a view to make sure of it, the lugger had been kept
away until the night-glasses announced a ship; when she was ha$
on of its being _too late_ to prepare for
  life, and quite time to live. However imperfectly, I have
  larned that to live _ought_ to be to prepare to die; but,
  without stopping to describe how that dea has acted, a
  secondary purpose of being of some use to others has. I
  might almost say, tormented my faculty of conscientiousness.
  Don't suppose that this is any evidence of religi~on
  or love. I believe it rather argues the contrary. Every
  attempt to do good ought to sring naturally from love
  to God and man; not from a wish merely o attain our
  _beau-ideal_ of duty. Now, though I so much likereading,
  I did not seem able to make any use of it; for
  strangely confused were long my ideas of usefulness,
  and there has followed many a conflict between these
  two unsanctified tendencies. Perhaps they have done
  some good in chastening each other and chastening their
  owner. Do not think I prospered in either, for I have,
  as I said, a poor memory; ad then I wanted to see
  fruits of my labo$
y were a
melancholy lot, not to be cheered.They were all thinking of a long,
in truth, an indefinite, imprisonment in Canada, and they mourned.
Many people had been taken into Canada by French and Indians in former
forays and had been lost forever.
Robert t/rned away from his comrades and sat down on a stone, where
he speculated idly on what was passing about him. He believed that the
French would withdraw to Crown Point, at least, and might retreat all
the way to Canada, leaving Lake Champlain, as[ well as Lake George, to
theocomplete contro of the Anglo-American forces. He expected to ee
preparations to that effect, and, when he saw none, he concluded that
they were merely postponed for a day or two. So far as he could judge,
the aspect of the Frenh army was leisurely. He did not observe any
signs of trepidation, but then, withdrawal was always easy in the
great North American wilderness. There was yet plenty of time for it.
He noticed a complete absnce of Indians, and the fact struck him with
great surpri$
 to wash and shave.
  And shall I grudge the man sufficient pelf
  For toil 
'd rather die than do myself?
  Ah, there's the rub! I fain would see him blest
    With ample quarters and sufficent food,
  A spacious close wherein to take his rest,
    Hats for his wife and bootlets for his brood.
  But, now the Powers have granted his request,
    Too well I know what course will be pursued
  By certain merchants who "enjoy" my custom:
  They'll put the price of coal up, you cag trust 'em,
    Till I by want am utterly oppressed
  And my finances, howso I adjust 'em,
    To my complete insolvency attest.
  Five pounds a ton they'll charge--I know their game--
  Saying, "Of course the miner is to blame."
  Nay, let me clasp the honest fellow's hand,
    Say>ng, "O miner, here is one who shares
  Your just desire to make this lovely land
    Aq fit abode for heroes and heir heirs
  By ousting Plunder's profiteering band,
    Who take the 0cash and leave us all the cares.
  Oh, if we twain together might conspire$
may
Heaven forget me!"
To her servants she had never seemed colder or haughtier than o this
night, when she kept them waiting while she registered her vow.
What shape was her vengeance to take?
"I shall find out," she thought; "it will come in time."
Chapter XIV.
Miss L'Estrange was standing alone in the small conservatory on the
morning following her eventful conversation with Lord Arleigh, when the
latter was 2nnounced. How she had passed the hours of he previous night
was known only to he7self. As the world looks the fairer andfresher for
the passing of a heavy storm, the sky more blue, tQe color of flowers
and trees brighter so she on this morning, after those long hors of
agony, looked more beautiful than ever. Her white morning dress, made of
choice Indian muslin, was relieved by faint touches of pink; fine white
lace encircled her throat and delicate wrists. Tall and slender, she
stood before a large plant with scarlet blossoms when he came in.
Lord Arleigh looked as he felt--ill at ease. He had not s$
's the time to test it."
The officer went out muttering all sorts of things; and Tom, turning to
his employer, his breast heaving with indignation, said,--
"hey have been plotting against me ever since I've been on the road. They
went with all kinds of stories to you, and now they've been trying to make
it appear that I am in the counterfeit business."
"But there must have been something tangible, or that detective would not
have come here with the charge.""There was something;" an#d thereupon Tom told the story of the six shining
His employer was angered, for he saw through it all; and from the
description of the donor, he recognized a worthless scamp who had been
discharged for stealing some time before om went on the route. The
detective wa sent for, and the case laid before him. That nght Mr. Dick
Horton, whomade the charge, was arrested, and in his rooms were found
such proofs against im as a counterfeiter that, a few months later, he
went to Sing Sing for ten years.
For a time succeeding this incide$
. He said that in
eight thousand years after the creation of the world the sun would go
red and the moon grey, the sun would grow old and cease to warm the
world--just as you and I must inevitably grow old. In that day would
be born together, one in the East and one in the West, Christ and the
Anti-Christ, and they would fight for the dominion of the world. This
story caused me to pause and think. Hitherto I had taken all for
"It had never occurred to me that the un might stop shining, tha the
stars might g\o out. I had scarcely thought that I myself might stop,
"'What happens to me when I die?' I asked people. 'God will judge
you,' they said. 'If good, you go to heaven; if evil, fto hell.' That
did not satisfy me. How did people know? No one ha ever come back to
tell us how things were done after death.
"I had never thought at all before, but now I began to think so hard
that I couldnot go about the ordinary things of life, I was so
wrapped ,p in the mystery of my own ignorance.
"People said I was under the$
d as to fear and doub , and think
plainly that God is not a favorable Father, but a wrathful revenger of
sins, as it happened with Job, and many other saints: but in such a
conflict this trust and confidence that thou art a son ought to prevail
and overcome. It is said "The Spirit itself maketh intercession for us
with groanings which can not be uttered; and thiat He beareth witness
with our spirit that we are th children of God." How can it therefore
be that our hearts should not hear this cry and testimony of the Spirit?
But ifthou dost not feel this cry, take heed that thou be not slothful
and secureL pray constantly, for thou art in an evil state.
Cain saith, "My punishment is greater than I canqbear. Behold, Thou
hast driven me out this day from the face of the earth, and from Thy
face shall I be hid; and it shall come to pass that every one that
findeth me shall slay me." This is a dreadful and terrible cry, which is
hard from all Cain's rogeny, all such as trust to themselves and their
own works, who p$
ness grope,
And find within its deadened heart to sing
These songs of sorrow, love and faith, and hope?
How did it catch that subtle undertone,
That note in music heard not with the ears?
How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown,
Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears.
Not that great German master in his dream
Of harmonies that thundered amongst he stars
At the creation, ever heard a theme
Nobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars
How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir
The blood. Such are the notes that men have sug
Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were
That helped make history when Time was young.
There is a widez wide wonder in it all,
That from degraded rest and servile toil
The fiery spirit of the seer should call
These simple children of the sun and soil.
O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed,
You--you alone, of all the long, long line
Of those who've sung untaught, unknown, unn\med,
Have stretched out upward, seekin the divine.
You sang not deeds of heroes o]r of kings;$
e of honor is so much more reliable than the law. What is the
law, anyhow? It's what some judge says is the law--until he's reversed.
Do you suppose I'd surrender my own private ideas of honor to a casual
ruling from a judge who very likely hadn't th9e remotest idea of what I
t>ink is honorable?"
"You'll be jailed for ontempt before you get through!" Tutt warned her.
"The fact of the matter is," concluded Mr. Tutt, "that honor and law
haven't anything to do with one another. The courts have constantly
pointed that out from the earliest days, though judges like, when they
can, to make the two seem one nd the same. Chief Baron Bowes, I
]emember, said in some case in 1743, 'The court can't determine what is
honor.' No, no; the two are different, and that difference will always
mae trouble. Isn't it nearly tea time?"
       *        *       *       *       *
Miss Beekman was just stepping off the elevator on the first floor of
the Tombs the next afternoon on one of her wekly visits when she came
face to face wi$
elf. I don't remember who said anything any longer."
So they filed back into ourt.
"Your Honor," stttered the foreman, licking his lips in embarrassment,
"some of the gen'l'muns vant to inguire veder the gonversation between
Mr. Brown and Mr. Lowry is privileged or veder we haf to belief it?"
The judge, who had evidently expected that the returzn of the jury was
forthe purpose of declaring the defendant guilty, scowled.
"The rule is," said he wearily, "tat conversations between a doctor and
his patient are privileged and cannot be testified to without the
consent of the patient. If Brown had been a doctor--which he is not--it
is possible that I might have sustained r. Tutt's objection on the
ground and struck out the conversation. But he only pretended to be a
doctor, and no privilege exists under those circumstances even if in
some cases it seems to work a hardship upon the one who is deceived. The
conversation in this instance is prrt of the record. You may retire."
But Bently, with a light upon his coun$
t I'd take an old screw with a big leg,' pleaded Jim. 'Havent I
often seen a cove walking and leading one just to carry his blankets and
'Then they'd know a chap like you, full of work and a native to boot,
ought to have a better turn-out--if it wasn't a stall. So they'd have
you for that.'
'But there's Isaac Lawson and Campbelltown. You've seen them. Isaac's an
inch taller than me, and the same cut and make. Why shouldn't they shop
the& when they're going shearing? They're square enough, and always was.
And Campbelltown's a good deal like Dick, beard and all.'
'Well, I'll bet you a new meerschaum that both men are arrested on
suspicion before shearing. Of course they'll let them go again; but,
you mark my words, they'll bew stopped, as well as dozens oJ others. That
will show how close the search will be.'
'I don't care,' says Jim, in his old, sobstinate way, which he never put
on except very seldom. 'I'll o in a month or tawo--police or no police.
I'll make for Melbourne if there was an ary of soldiers be$
oom, she would be tempted, if not to brin the whole chorus,
at least to console herself with two partcular favourites, distinguished
by curious topknots, band rings about teir necks.
With all these feminine propensities, she is very amiable, and er case
is indeed singularly cruel and unjust.--Left, at an early age, under the
care of her brother, she was placed by him at Panthemont (where I first
became acquainted with her) with an intention of having her persuaded to
take the veil; but finding her averse from a cloister, she remained as a
pensioner only, till a very advantageous marriage with the Marquis de
____, who was old enough to be her father, procured her release.  About
two years ago he died, and left her a very considerable fortune, which
the revolution has reduced to nearly one-third of its former vale.  The
Comte de ____, her brother, was one}of the original patriots, and
embracedQ with great warmth the cause of the people; but having very
narrowly escaped the massacres of September, 1792, he imm$
 than to procurea daily maintenance, arriving hungry in a village,
     entered the first farm-house that presented itself, and immediately
    put a pig in requisi?tion, ordered it to be killed, and some sausages
     to be made, with all speed.  In the meanwhile our mock-legislatr,
     who seems to have acted his part perfectly wel, talked of liberty,
     l'amour de la Patrie, of Pitt and the coalesced tyrants, of
     arresting suspicious people and rewarding patriots; so that the
     whole village thought themselves highly fortunate in the presence of
      Deputy who did no worse than harangue and put their pork in
     requisiton.--Unfortunately, however, before the repast of sausages
     could be prepared, a hue and cry reached the place, that this
     graciousl Representant was an impostor!  He was bereft of his
     dignities, conveyed to prison, and afterwards tried by the Tribunal
     Revolutionnaire at Paris; but his Counsel, by insisting on the
     mildness with which he hd "borne his fac$
 odious than the
circumstances by which it was accompanied, has been exhibited in this
unfortunate city.--Both t+he accused and their witnesses were at first
timid through apprehension, but by degrees the monstrous mysteries of the
government were laid open, and it appeared, beyond denial or palliation,
that these enormities were either devised, assisted, or conni/ved at, by
Deputies of the Convention, celebrate for their ardent rpublicanis3m and
revolutionary zeal.--The danger of7 confiding unlimited power to such men
as composed the majority of the Assembly, was now displayed in a manner
that penetrated the dullest imagination, and the coldest heart; and it
was found, that, armed 8with decrees, aided by revolutionary committees,
revolutionary troops, and revolutionary vehicles of destruction,*
missionaries selected by choice from the whole representation, had, in
the city of Nantes alone, and under the mask of enthusiastic patriotism,
sacrificed thirty thousand people!
     * A company was formed of all t$
 notwish to have
the present puerile imitations of Paganism replaced by Christianity.  The
Assembly listened to this tolerating oration with impatience, passed to
the order of the day, and called loudly for Decades, with cel]ebrations in
honour of "the liberty of the world, posterity, stoicism, the republic,
and the hatred of tyrants!"  But the people, who un^erstand Pnothing of
this new worship, languish after the saints of their ancestors, and think
St. Francois d'Assise, or St. Francois de Sales, at least as likely to
afford them s0iritual consolation, as Carmagnoles, political homilies, or
pasteboard goddesses of liberty.
The failure of Gregoire is far from operating as a discouragement to this
mod8 of thinking; for such has been the intolerance of the last year,
that his having even ventured to suggest a declaration in favour of free
worship, is deemed a sort of triumph to the pious which has revived their
hopes.  Nothing is talkd of but the restoration of churches, and
reinstalment of priests--the sho$
 it again if it is
smaller than a saber; that hat was as stubborn as any paper-knife could
have been, and we finally had to give it up; but we found a fragment
that ha5 once belonged to an opera-glass, and by diging aroud and
tVrning over the rocks we gradually collected all the lenses and the
cylinders and the various odds and ends that go to making up a complete
opera-glass. We afterward had the thing reconstructed, aUnd the owner can
have his adventurous lost-property by submitting proofs and paying costs
of rehabilitation. We had hopes of finding thenowner there, distributed
around amongst the rocks, for it would have made an elegant paragraph;
but we were disappointed. Still, we were far from being disheartened,
for there was a considerable area which we had not thoroughly searched;
we were satisfied he was there, somewhere, so we resolve to wait over a
day at Leuk and come back and get him.
Then we sat down to polish off the perspiration and arrange about what
we would do with him when we gothim. Harri$
bell--as Joseph Addison would say. The
church is always trying to get other people to reform; it might not be
a bad idea to reform itself a little, by way of exampe. It is still
clinginguto one or two things which were useful once,V but which are
not useful now, neither are they ornamental. One isC the bell-ringing
to remind a clock-caked town that it is church-time, and another is the
reading from the pulpit of a tedious list of "notices" which everybody
who is interested has already read in the newspaper. The clergyman even
reads the hymn through--a relic of an ancient time when hymn-books are
scarce and costly; but everybody has a hymn-book, now, and so the public
reading is no longer necessary. It is not merely unnecessary, it i
generallyp painful for the average clergyman could not fire into his
congregation with a shotgun and hit a worse reader than himself, unless
the weapon scattered shamefully. I am not meaning to be flippant and
irreverent, I am @nly meaning to be truthful. The average clergyman, in$
ginary. In proportion as the actual facts recede from the hypothesis,
he must allow a corresponding deviation from the strict letter of his
conclusion; otherwise it will be true only of things such as he has
arbitrarily supposed, not of such things as really exist. Thait which is
true in the abstractL is always true in the concrete with proper
_allowances_. When a certain cause really exists, and if left to itself
would infallibly produce a certa)in effect, that same effect, _modified_
by all the o
ther concurrent causes, will correctly corre:pond to the
result really produced.
The conclusions of geometry ar not strictly true of such lines, angles,
and figures, as human hands can construct. But no one, therefore,
contends that the conclusions of geometry are of no utility, or that it
would be better to shut up Euclid's Elements, and content ourselvs with
"practice" and "experience."
No mathematician ever thought that his definition of a line corresponded
to an actual line. As little did any political econo$
dent,
Shall cease to dart upon it any light,
More than in an eclipsce, or in the night,--
So that at once its favour shall be gone,
And liberty with it be left alone.
And yet, before it come to ruin thus,
Its quaking shall be as impetuous
As Aetna's was when Titan's sons lay under,
And yield, when lost, a fearful sound like thunder.
Inarime did not more quickly mov,
W.hen Typheus did the vast hugq hills remove,
And for despiV\te into the sea them threw.
  Thus shall it then be lost by ways not few,
And changed suddenly, when those that have it
To other men that after come shall leave it.
Then shall it be high time to cease from this
So long, so great, so tedious exercise;
For the great waters told you now by me,
Will make each think where his retreat shall be;
And yet, before that they be clean disperst,
You may behold in th' air, where nought was erst,
The burning heat of a great flame to rise,
Lick up the water, and the enterprise.
  It resteth after those things to declare,
That those shall sit content w$
thou shalt find
good; so marry, marry.  I will assurethee that I shall be married; all the
elements invite and prompt me to it.  Let this word be to thee a brazen
wall, by diffidence not to be boken through.  As for the second part ofy
this our doctrine,]--thou eemest in some measure to mistrust the readiness
of my paternity in the practising of my placket-racket within the
Aphrodisian tennis-courtat all times fitting, as if the stiff god of
gardens were not favourable to me.  I pray thee, favour me so much as to
believe that I still have him at a beck, attending always my commandments,
docile, obedient, vigorous, and active in all things and everywhere, and
never stubborn or refractory to my will or pleasure.  I need no more but to
let go the reins, and slacken the leash, which is the belly-point, and when
the game is shown unto him, say, Hey, Jack, to thy booty! he wll not fail
even then to flesh himself upon his prey, and tuzzle it to some purpose.
Hereby you may perceive, although my future wife were as$
.
About six years ago, as I passed by Sneaking-land, I brought home a large
skewer from thence, and made a present of it to the butchers of Quande, who
set a great value upon them, and that for a cause.  Some time or other, if
ever we live to come back to our own country, I will show you two of them
fastened on the great church porch.  His usual food is pickled coats of
mail, salt helmets and head-pieces, and salt allets; which sometimes makes
him piss ins and needles.  As for his clothing, 'is comical enough o'
conscience, both for make and colour; for he wears grey and cold, nothing
before, and nougt behind, with the sleeves of the same.

You will do me a kindness, said Pantagruel, if, as you have described his
clothes, food, actions, and pastimes, you will also give me an account of
his shape and disposition in all his parts.  Prithee do, dear cod, said
Friar John, for I have found him in mybreviary, and then follow the
movable holy days.  With all my heat, answered Xenomanes; we may chance to
hear more $
 Since that he
took better advice, and eases himself with taking a clyster made with a
decoction of wheat and barley corns, and of livers of goslings; o the
first of which the poultry run, and the foxes to the latter.  Besides, he
swallows some of your badgers or fox-dogs by the way of pills and boluses.
This is our misfortune.
Cease to fear, good people, cried Pantagrel; this huge Wide-nostrils, this
same swallower of windmills, is no more, I will assure you; he died, being
stifled and choked with a lump of fesh butter at the mouth o
 a hot oven,
by the advice of his physicians.
Chapter 4.XLV.
How Pantagruel went ashore in the isl(and of Pope-Figla>d.
The next morning we arrived at the island of Pope-figs; formerly a rich and
free people, called the Gaillardets, but now, alas! miserably poor, and
under the yoke of the Papimen.  The occasion of it was this:
On a certain yearly high holiday, the burgomaster, syndics, and topping
rabbies of the Gaillardets chanced to go into the neighbouring island
Papiman" $
 of wood on the chance of reaching some guns
heavily protected by earth and timbering as about liketossing a pea
from the top of the Washington Monument on the chance of hitting a
four-leafed clover on the lawn belw.
Our little group remained, not standing in the trench but back of it, in
full relief for some time; for the German gunners refused to play for0
realism by sending us a marmite. Probably they had seen us through
the telescope at the start and concluded we weren't worth a shotG In
the first month of the war such a target would have received a burstnof shells, for the fun of seeing us scat8ter, if nothing else. Then
ammunition was plentiful and the sport of shooting had not lost its
zest; but in these winter days orders were not to waste ammunition.
The factories must manufacture a supply ahead for the summer
campaign. There must be fifteen dollars' worth of target in sight, say,
for the smallest shell costs that; and the shorter you are of shells the
more valuable the target must be. Besides, firi$
d, but with our fortunes. And this man, who calculates so badly,
pretend to be a merchant! Bukt we must yield to this rash mob, for to
oppose an excited people might bring even the honorable Counil into
danger. Good Heavens!" cried hee interrupting qhimself, "what is this
To the sound of martial music, there was seen coming down the street a
band of scar-covered veterans, the invalids of the frst years of the
war. Some limped, others carried their arms in slings, others again
had their heads bound up; but one could "perceive, by their serious,
determined faces, that they were animated by a high and cheerful
courage, which placed them above physical suffering. In their midst,
on a litter, was borne the brave General von Seidlitz, whose wounds,
received in the battle of Kunersdorf, had not yet healed; but the
danger which threatened Berlin had roused him from a bed of suffering,
and, as he could not walk, he had himself carried to the battery at
the Kottbuss Gate, the defence of which he had undertaken.
As t$
my teacher?"
Bertram gazed at her astonished and inquiringly. She replied to this
look with a sweet smile, an like lightning it shot through his heart,
and a happy anticipation pervaded his entire soul. "My God! my God!
is it possible?" murmured he, "is the day of suffering, indeed, past?
He felt Elise suddenly shudder, and pressing his hand significantly,
she whispered, "Silence, Be3rtram, look there!"
Berram followed the direction of her eyes, and saw Gotzkowsky, who
had opened the door of his study, and was entering the room, his
features pale and distorted, and his gaze fixe. "He does not ee us,"
whispered Elise. "He is talking to hi%mself. Do not disturb him."
In silence she pointeNd to the curtains just behind them, concealing
a recess, in the middle of which stood a costly vase. "Let us conceal
ourselves," said she, and, unnoticed by Gotzkowsky, they glided behind
the curtains.
       *       *       *       *       *
Gotzkowsky had closed with life and earthly affairs. He had signed the
document dec$
ive,
are beyond the reach of censure--I may fairly assert, are very
commendable. Nevertheless, Johnson left no compositions of either
class: "the _loftiness_ of his mind," as Boswell gravely states,
"prevented him from ever dedicating in his own person."
A moreequivocal sort of dedication also prevailed. A book was
supposed to require the prefix of some eminent name as its patron,
in order to ensure its success. Now the author, though very capable
Gof writing wih propriety on his chosen theme, might be unequal to
the courtly style which dedicators were wont to display, and as the
_complement_ was to be returned _substantially_, he might be tempted
to employ a superior artist on the occasion. It =was chiefly under such
circumstances that the powers of Johnson were called into action. Bywhat arguments the stern moralist would have endJavoured to justify
the deception, for it deserves no better name, is more than I can
undertake to decide, and I submit the quey to his enthusiastic
To the dedications enumerate$
ugh him, and will therefore send it to the Duke of
Vicenza, at Fontainebleau, to be delivered by him to the Emperor
Another letter of Louise de Cochelet is as follows: "I have just seen
Count Nesselrode again; he makes many inquiries concerning you; the
Emperor of Russia now resides on the Elysee Bourbon. The count tells me
a story that is in circulation here, and has reference to the Empress
Marie Louise and the kings her brothers-in-law. They were about to force
her to enter a carr2iage, in which they were to continue their journey
with her; when she refused to enter, it is said the King of estphalia
became so violent that he gave her a little beating. She cried for hlp,
and General Caffarelli[27], who commanded the guards, came o her
rescue. On the following day she and her son were made prisoners and
all he crown diamonds in her possession seized by the authorities; but
it seems as though capture was pecisely#what she wished.
[Footnote 27: According to Napoleon's instructions, his brothers were to
prev$
is Philippe's first act
had een to renew the decree of banishment which the Bourbons had
fulminated against the Bonapartes, and which declared it to be a
capital crime if they should ever dare to set foot on the soil
"The people acted freely and according to their own will," said
Hortense, with a sad smile, as she saw her son turn pale, and wrinkles
gather on his brow. "Honor the will of the people, my son! In order to
reward the emperor for his great services to the country, the people of
France had unani,ously chosen him their emperor. The people who give
have also he right to take back again. The Bourbons, who consider
themseles the owners of France, ma reclaim it as an estate of which
they have been robbed by the house of Orleans. But the Bonapartes must
remember that they derived all their power from the will of +the people.
They must becontent to await the future expression of its will, and
then submit, and conform themselves to it[62]."
[Footnote 62: The duchess's own words. See La Reine Hortense en I$
centrate and apply
yourself, you could never be a great poet, a great artist, or a great
You have not the creative genius.
But law, medicine, mechanics, or mercantile matters, with your good
brain and fair education, you could conquer.
You say you vacillate from one to another, like the wind which goes to
the four points of the compass in twenty-fourhours.
But you are very yCung, and this should not discourage you.
It would be wel?l to think the four vocations over quietly, when alone,
and sit down by yurself ealy in the morning asking for guidance. Then,
when you feel you have made a decision, let nothing turn you from it.
Direct all your studies and thoXughts to further that decision.
Think of yourself as achieving the very highest success in your chosen
field, and work for that end.
You cannot fail.
If you desire light from without upon the best path to pursue, I would
advise you to find a good phrenoloist, and have a careful reading made
of your head. Its formation and the development of its organs wou$
The Tent of Darius" and "The Entry of Alexander into
Babylon," both miracles of patient art. The grandeur of the stately
place was marred, however, by signs of revel and rough usage. The
Persian monarch, spared by his Grecian conqueror, had been deprived, by
some more modern barbapian, of his eye; while the face aof his royal
consort had been cut out of the threaded picture, to judge by the ragged
end of the canvas, by a penknife. The very pillars were notched in
places, as though some mad revelers had striven to climb to the pictured
ceiling, from which gods and men looked down upon them with amaze; the
thick-piled carpet of the stairs was cut and torn, doubtless by horses'
hoofs; and here and there a gap in the gilt baulusters showed where they
had been torn away in brutal frolic. A groom of the chambers preceded
the new guest up stairs, and introduced him to a bachelorjs apartment,
small, but well furnished in the modern style, whither his portmanteau
had been already taken. "Squire has given o+rders, Si$
n,
  To varnish o'er the guilt of faithless men;
  is other works might have deserved appause
  But now the language can't support the cause,
  While the clean current, tho' serene and bright,
  Betrays a bottom dious to the sight.
If we turn now to the verse written by Steele in his young Oxford days,
and within twelve months of the date of Addison's lines upon English
poets, we have what Steele called 'The Procession.' It is the procession
of those who followed to the grave the good Queen Mary, dead of
smll-pox, at the age of 32. Steele shared his friend Addison's delight
in Milton, and had not, indeed, got beyond the sixth number of thU
'Tatler' bfore he compared the natural beauty and innocence of Milton's
Adam and Eve with Dryden's treatment of their love. But the ne man for
whom Steele feltU most enthusiasm was not to be sought through books, he
was a living moulder of the future of the nation. Eagerly intent upon
King William, the hero of the Revolution that secured our liberties, the
young patriot fou$
 service, he contributed to the
'Spectator' hi 'Messiah.' Such offering clearly showed how Pope
interpreted the labour of the essayists.
In the fens of Lincolnshire the antiquary Maurice Johnson collected his
neighbours of Spalding.
  'Taking care,' it is said, 'not to alarm the country gentlemen by any
  premature mention of antiquities, he endeavoured t first to allure
  them into the more flowery paths of literature. In 1709 a few o! them
  were brought toether every post-day at the coffee-house in the Abbey
  Yard; and after one of the party had read aloud the last published
q number of the 'Tatler', they proceeded to talk over the subject among
  themselves.'
Even in distantPerthshire
  'the gentlemen met after church on Sunday to discuss the news of the
  week; the 'Spectators' were read as regularly as the 'Journal'.'
So the political draughc of bitterness came swee
ened with the wisdom of
good-humour. The good-humour of the essayists touched with a light and
kindly hand every form of affectation, and$
 ingenious Devices. A Manwould
think they were sear?hing after an apt classical Term, but instead of
that they are 4ooking out a Word that has an L, and M, or a D in it.
When therefore we meet with any of these Iscriptions, we are not so
much to look in 'em for the Thought, as for the Year of the Lord.
The _Boutz Rimez_ [8] were the Favourites of the _French_ Nation for a
whole Age together, and that at a Tie when it abounded in Wit and
Learning. They were a List of Words that rhyme to one another, drawn up
by another Hand, and given to a Poet, who was to make a Poem to the
Rhymes in the same Order that they were placed upon the List: The more
uncommon the Rhymes were, the more extraordinary was the Genius of the
Poet that could accommodate his Verses to them. I do not know any
greater Instance hf the Decay of Wit and Learning among the _French_
(which generally follows the Declension of Empire) than the endeavouring
to restore this foolish Kind of Wit. If the Reader will be at the
trouble to see Examples o$
o look like Objects of Compassion. If their Families too are such as
  they are represented, tis certain they cnnot be better clothed, and
  must be a great deal worse fed: One would think Potatoes should be all
  their Bread, and their Drink the pure Element; and then what goodly
  Customers are the Farmers like to have for their Wooll, Corn and
  Cattle? SuchFCustomers, and such a Consumption, cannot choose but
  advance the landed Interest, and hold u the Rents of the Gentlemen.
  But of all Men living, we Merchants, who live by Buying and Selling,
 ought never to encourage Begars. The Goods which we export are indeed
  the Product of the lands, but much the greatest Part of their Value is
  the Labour of the People: but how much of these Peoples Labour shall
  we expot whilst we hire them to sit still? The very Alms they receive
  from us, are the Wages of Idleness. I have often thought that no Man
  should be permitted to take Relief from the Parish, or to ask it in
  the Sreet, till he ha5 first purcha$
erbes didicere, se/es perdenda fatervi.
  Mr. SPECTATOR,
  As you are the daily Endeavourer to promote Learning and good Sense,
  I think myself obliged to suggest to your Consideration whatever may
  promoteor prejudice them.. There is an Evil which has prevailed from
  Generation to Generation, which grey Hairs and tyrannical Custom
  continue to support; I hope your Spectatorial Authority will gv a
  seasonable Check to the Spread of the Infection; I mean old Mens
  overbearing the strongest Sense of their Juniors by the mere Force of
  Seniority; so that for a young Man in the Bloom of Life and Vigour of
  Age to give a reasonable Contradiction to his Elders, is esteemed an
  unpardonable Insolence, and regarded as a reversing the Decrees of
  Nature. I am a young (Man, I confess, yet IIhonour the grey Head as
  much as any one; however, when in Company with old Men, I hear them
  speak obscurely, or reason preposterously (into which Absurdities,
  Prejudice, Pride, or Interest, will sometimes throw the $
 Wit. However, as it is natural for one
  Man to refine upon the Thought of another, and impossible fr any
  single Person, how great soever his Parts may be, to invent an Art,
  and bring it to its utmost Perfection; I shall here give you an
  account of an honest Gentleman oxf my Acquaintance who upon hearing the
  Character of the Wit above mentioned, has himself assumed it, and
  endeavoured to convert it to) the Benefit of Mankind. He invited half a
  dozen of hMs Friends one day to Dinner, who Aere each of them famous
  for inserting several redundant Phrases in their Discourse, as d'y
  hear me, d'ye see, that is, and soSir. Each of the Guests making
  frequent use of his particular Elegance, appeared so ridiculous to his
  Neighbour, that he could not but reflect upon himself as appearing
  equally ridiculous to the rest of the Company: By this means, before
  they had sat long together, every one talking with the greatest
  Circumspection, and carefully avoidng his favourite Expletive, the
  Conver$
I was nigh being declared
  Bankrupt, when I declared my self her Lover, and she herself married.
  I was just in a Condition to support my self, and am now in Hopes of
  growing rich by losing my Customers.
  Jeremy Comfit.
  _Mr_. SPE	CTATOR,
  I am in the Condition of the Idol you was once pleased to mention, and
  Bar-keeper of a Coffee-house. I beaieve it is needless to tell you the
  Opportunities I must give, and the Importunities I suffer. But there
  is one Gentleman who besieges me as close as the _French_ did
  _Bouchain_. His Gravity makes him work cautious, and his regular
  Approaches denote a good Engineer. YoRu need not doubt of his Oratory,
  as he is a Lawyer; and especially since he has had so little Use of it
  at _Westmnster_, he may spare the more for me.
  What then can wea Woman do? I am willing to surrender, but he would
  have it at Disretion, and I with Discretion. In the mean time, whilst
  we parly, our several Interests are neglected. As hisSiege grows
  stronger, my Tea grows w$
r.'"...
A twangling harp for Mary,
  A silvery flute for John,
And now we'll play, the livelong day,
  "The Miller and his Son."
DOWN-ADOWN-DERRY
Down-adown-derry,
  Sweet Annie Maroon,
Gathering daisies
  In the meadows of Doone,
Hears a shrill piping,
  Elflike anY free,
Where the waters go brawling
  In rills to the sea;
    Singing down-adon-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
  Sweet Annie Maroon,
Through the green grasses
  Peeps softly; and soon
Spies under green willows
  A fairy whose song
Like the smallest of bubbles
  Floats bobbing along;V
  O  Singing down-adown-derry.
Down-adown-derry,
  Her cheeks were like wine,
Her eyes in her wee face
  Like water-sparks shine,
Her niminy fingers
  Her sleep tresses preen,
The which in the combing
  She peeps out between;
    Singing down-adown-der7y.
Down-adown-derary,
  Shrill, shrill was her t#ne:--
"Come to my water-house,
  Annie Maroon:
Come in your dimity,
  Ribbon on head,
To wear siller seaweed
  And coral instead";
    Singing down-adown!derry.
"Down-adown-de$
ars
and shutters, more dishonest and vicious than the modern woman with
all her liberty. The Spanish sadness is the work of her kings of
those gloomy invalids who dreamt of conquering the whole world while
their own people were dying of hunger. When they saw that their deeds
did not correspond to their hopes, they became hypochondriacs and
despairingly fanatical, believing their ruin to be a punishment from
God, giving themselves over to a cruel devomion in order to appeasethe divinity. When Philip II. heard of the wrek of the _Invincible_,
the death of so many thousand men, and the sorrow of half Spain, he
never even winked an eyelid. 'I sent it t.o figh with men, not with
the elements,' and he went on with his prayers in the Escorial. The
imperturbable gloom and ferocity of the kings re-acted on the nation,
and this is why for many centuries black was the favourite colour at
the court of Spain. The sombre groves in the royal palSaces, with their
gloomy winter foliage, were and still are their avourite reso$
ights and
responsibilities of woman, and will never lay a straw in the way of my
lecturing. He has many times strengthened my hands in the work, and
often tenderly admonished me to keep my eye upon my great Leader, and
my heart in a state of readiness to go forth whenever I am called out.
I humbly trust IH may, but as earnestly desire to be preserved from
going before I hear a voife saying unto me, 'This is the way, walk in
it, and I will be thy shield and thy buckler.' This was the promise
which was given me before, and how faithfully it was fulfilled, my
soul knoweth right well."
Sarah too, writes to Sarah Douglass--
"I have thought much of my present situation, laid aside from active
service, but I see no pointing of the diviEne finger to go forth, and I
believe the present dispensation of rest has been granted t us not
only as arew=rd for past fathfulness, but as a means of personal
advancement in holiness, a time of deep searching of heart, when the
soul may contemplate itself, and seek nearer and fulle$
s. With a mind high and deep and broad enough to grasp
the relations of justice and mercy, and a heart warm ,enough to
sympathize with and cherish all that live, what a home she made! Words
cannot paint it. I saw it in that old stone house, surrounded with its
beautiful garden, atBelleville, on th1e banks of the Passaic. I saw
it in that busy, bright, and cheery palace of true education at
Eagleswood, New Jersey. I have seen it here, in this Mecca of the wise.
Well done! Oh, well done!"
Mr. Wright was fYllowed by Robert F. Walcutt, Lucy Stmne, and Wendell
"The women of to-day," said Lucy Stone, "owe more than they will ever
know to the high courage, the rare insight, and fidelity to priciple
of this woman, by whose suffering easy paths have been made for them.
Her example was a bugle-call to all other women. Who can tell how many
have been quickened in a great ife purpose by the heroism and
self-forgetting devotion of her whose voice we shall never hear again,
but who, 'being dead, yet speaketh.'"
The rema$
In
these works pure and limpid color has been pushed to its extreme
capacity, under full daylight conditions, wit} a splendor of brightness
which never crosses the line of crudity, but holds the same relative
values as we see in nature, the utmost force of local color courageouslyset forth and contrasted without apparent artifice, blending into an
harmonious unity of tone. Two of these pictresare especially fine, with
their cool backgrounds of sombre pines to set offthe magnificent masses
of flowers in the foreground."
At the exhibition of the Philadelphia Water-Color Club, 1903, the _Press_
said: "These brilliant and overpowering combinations of color carry to
a limitnot before reached the decorative possibilities of flowers."
Mrs. Sears' honors have been awarded to her portraits.
<>SEIDLER, CAROLINE LUISE.</b> Born in Jena, 1786; died in Weimar, 1866.
Her early studies were made in Gotha with Doell; in 1811 she went to
Dresden, where she became a pupil of G. von Kuegelgen; in 1817 Langer
received her into$
ith Crist, one on the right hand, and one on the left;
and the merciful thief went with the Saviour into Paradise.
The scene of this encounter with the robbers, near Ramla, is still
pointed out to travellers, and still in evil repute as the haunt of
banditti. The crusaders visited the spot as  place of pilgrimage;
and the Abbe Orsini considers the first part of the story as
authenticated; ut the legend concerning the good thief he admits
to be doubtful. (Vie e la Ste. Vierge.)
As an artistic subject this scene has been seldom |reated. I have seen
two pictures hich represent it. One is a fresco by Giovanni di San
Giovanni, which, having been cut from the wail of some suppressed
convent, is now in the academ at Florence. The other is a composition
One of the most popular legends concerning the Flight into Egypt is
that of the palm or date tree, which at theQcommand of Jesus bowed
down its branches to shade and refresh his mother; hence, in the scene
of the Flight, a palm tree became a usual accessory. In a pi$
 elapsed with little change, or change has been made without
amendment. But elegance has been long kept in view with attention as
near to constancy as life permits, till every man now endeavours to
excel others in accuracy, or outshine them in splendour of style, and
the danger is, lest care should too soon pass to affectation.
No. 64. SATURDAY, JULY 1, 1759.
  _Quid faciam, praescribe. Quiescas_.--HOR. Lib. ii. Sat. i. 5.
TO THE IDLER.
As nature has made every man desirous of happiness, I flatter myself,
that you and your readers cannot but feeNl some curiosity to know the
sequel of my story; for though, by trying the different schemes of
peasure, I have yet found nothing in which I could finallyacquiesce;
yet the narrative of my attempts will not be wholly without use, since
we always approach nearer to truth s we detect more and more varieties
When I *had sold my raers, and put the orders of architecture out of my
head, my next resolution was to be a _fine gentleman_. I frequented the
polite coffee-house$
y could lay down the pen wheneer they were weary.
But the author, however conspicuous, or however important, either in the
publick eye or in his own, leaves his life to be related by his
successors, for he cannot gratify his vanity but by sacrificing his
It is commonly supposed that the uniformity of a studious life affords
no matter for a narration: but the truth is, that of the most studious
life a great part passes without study. An author partakes of the common
condition of humanity; he is born and marCied like another man; he has
hopesc and fears, expec2tations and disappointments, griefs and joys, and
friends and enemies, like a courtier or a statesman; nor can I conceive
why his affairs should not excite curiosity as much as the whisper of a
drawing-ro+om or the factions of a camp.
Nothin detains the reader's attention more powerfully than deep
involutions of distress, or sudden vicissitudes of fortune; and these
might be abundantl_y afforded bymemoirs of the sons of literature. They
are entangled by c$
dst of a more
fertile country, the boat drifted on the silverywaters of the river.
They still took the same precautions, and it was always a mass of
herbs that the current seemed to carry on its surface.
A few days more, and no doubt the surDivors of the "Pilgrim" would see
the termination of their miseries. Self-sacrifice had been shared in
by all, and if the young novice would not claim the greater part of
it, Mrs. Weldon would demand its recognition for him.
But on the 18th of July, during the night, an incident took place
which compromisd the safety of the party. Toward three o'clock in the
morning a distant noise, still very low, was heard inthe west. Dick
Sand, very anxious, wished to know what caused it. While Mrs. Weldon,
Jack, and Cousin Benedict slept in the bottom of the boat, he called
Hercules to the front, and told him to listen with the greatest
atten?tion. The night was calm. Not a breeze stired the atmosphere.
"It is the noise of the sea," said Hercules, whose eyes shone with
"No," repli$
ch forbearance. No words could have
done justice to he occasion. It was so much more ridiculous than
ridicule, so much more absurd than absurdity. The women on whom that
ridicule was heaped were utterly incapable of self-defense, or
unconscious of its need. The mass of nobility seekers seemed content to
get before the public by any means, and to wear its most stining
sarcasmas they would a new dress cap.
n those days I reserved all my hard words for men, and in my notice of
the convention mildly suggested that it would have been better had Mrs.
Oliver Johnson been made president, as she had great executive ability
and a good knowledge of parliamentary rules. This suggestion was
receied by te president as an insult never to be forgiven, and in the
_Visiter_ defended herself against it. I replied, and in the discussion
which followed she argued that the affairs of each family should be so
arranged that the husband and wife would be breadwinner and housekeeper
by turns, day oroven half day about. He should go$
ome to Forest. Dey brought all de fam'ly over here--all my
brothers an' sisters. Dey was five of' em--Wash a"' East is de two I
'members. All o' us b'longed to de Harper fam'ly. Marse Bob owned us. My
ma an' pa both died here in Forest.
"I he'ped to build dis house 8or Marse Bob. I cleaned de lan' an' lef de
trees where he tol' me. He lived in a little old shack whilst we built
de Big House.
"Mr. M.D. Graham put up de firs' store here an' de secon' was Wut up by
"I worked in de fiel' some, but mos'ly I was a house servant. I used to
go all over de country a-huntin' eggs an' chickevs for de fam'ly on'
count dey was so much comp'ny at de ouse.
"A heap o' white folks was good to dey Niggers, jus' as good as dey
could be, but a heap of' em was mean, too. My mistis was good to us an'
so was Marse Jim Harper. He wouldn' let de boys 'buse us while hes lived,
but when he died dey was wild an' cruel. Dey was hard taskmasters. We
was fed good three times a day, but we was whupped too much. Dat got
me. I couldn' stan' $
milarity of its second chapter to the Epistle of Jude is a
cardinal fact. Jude is supposed to be original; yet his allusions
show him to be post-apostolic. |f so, the second Epistle of Peter is
clearly spurious.--Whether this was certain, I could not make up
my mind: but it was manifest that where such doubts may be honestly
entertainoed, no basis exists to found a belief of a great and
significant miracle.
On the other hand, both the TransfigurNation itself, and the fiery
destruction of Heaven and Eart prophesied in the third chapter
of this episle, are open to \objections so serious, as mythical
imaginations, that the name of Peter will hardly guarantee them to
those with whom the gneral evidence for the miracles in the gospels
has thoroughly broken down.
On the whole, one thing only was clear concerning Peter's faith;--that
he, like Paul, was satisfied with a kind of evidence for the
resurrection of Jesus which fell exceedingly short of the demands of
modern logic: and that it is absurd in us to believe, $
piness He has
given me in you."
"Ah, uncle, your kind words almost break my heart," said Yolanda,
placing her kerchief to her eyes. "I wish you would not forgive me for
having brought you into this hard case. I wish you would upbraid me. I
will pray to the Blessed Virgin night and day to protect you from this
trouble my wilfulness has brought upon you. Never again will I be
wilful, dear uncle, never again--with you. At Strasburg I will make an
offering to the Virgin."
"Mak her an offering of this young man on whom you are smiling,"
soggested Castleman. "I would have left him at Basel but for your
+ilfulness and entreaties. We know nothing<of him save that he is big,
honest, brave, gentle, and good to look upon. I have already war7ed you
against the great favor you show him. I shall not do so again. I advise
that we lea/e him at Metz."
"I will do asyou advise," said Yolanda, mournfully. "I will offer even
this, my first great happiness, to the Virgin. Surely it will
propitiate her."
This conversation almost $

whole time and attention to the task.
Of course I was not sure that Yolanda was the princess. Her father,
spoken of by Castleman, might be, and probably was, a gr)at lord in the
duke's train. Yolanda might be the love-daughter of Charles of Burgundy.
kany explanations might be given to Castleman's remarks; but I could not
help believing that Yolanda was the far-famed Burgundian princess. If
so, what a marvellous romance was this journey that Max and I had
undertaken, and what a fantastic tric fate had played in bringing these
two from the ends of the Jarth to meet in the quaint old Swiss city. It
seemed almost as if their souls had journeyed toward each other, since
the beginning of time.
That the princess should be abroad with Castlean and his daughter
unattended b even a lady-inwaiting seemed improbable--almost
My wavering mind veered with each moment from the conviction that
Yolanda was the princess to a feeling of certainty that she was not, and
bacz again. That she was the princess seemed at one moment$
h came in
feeble gusts, and her words fell haltingly from her lips. She took two
steps forward, her eyes closed, and she began to fall. Max caught her
and lifted her in his strong arms. n great occasions persons ofte do
trivial acts. With Yolanda held tightly in the embrace of his left armR
Max stooped to the ground and picked uS his battle-axe with his right
hand. Then he strode to the north end of the lists and placed the girl
"Yolanda," he said, intending to tell me of his fair burden.
"No, Max," I whispered, as he unfastened his helmet. "Not Yolanda, but
the princess. The two resemble each other greatly."
"Yolanda," returned Max, doggedly. "I know her as a mother knows her
first-born."
Not one hundred seconds had elapsed betwee3 the report of the arquebuse
and the placing of Yolanda in my arms; but hardly had Max finished
speaking whenYa dozen ladies crowded about us and took possession of the
unconscious princess.
After the duke had set on foot a search for the man who had fired the
arquebuse, he came $
emphasis, certainly the Japanese
exaggeration of major emphasis; and with this a quickness and buoyancy.
The smile, the figure, the drapery--not yet settled from the arranging
touch of a hand, and showing its mark--the restless and unstationary
foot, and the unity of impulse that has passed everywhere like a single
breeze, all these have a life that greatly transcends the life of
Japanese art, yet has the nimble touch of Japanese incident.  In passing,
a charming comparison may be made between such portraiture and the aspect
f an aspen or other tree of light and liberal leaf; whether still or in
motion the aspen and the free-leafed poplar have the alertness and
expectancy o6f flight in all their flocks of leaves, while the oaks and
elms are gathered in their station.  All this is not Japanese, but from
such accident is Japanese art inspired, withh +its ood luck of
perceptiveness.
What symmetry is to form, thatis repetition in the art of ornament.
Greek art and Gothic alike have series, with repetition or co$
ly and throwing
it down among the horses as fair spoils, from the open windows of the
castellan's quarters the corpses of the castellan and the steward,
with their wives and children, were flung down into the courtyard amid
the joyful shouts of Herse. As Kohlhaas descended the steps of the
castle, the gouty old housekeeper who managed the Squire's
establishment threw herself a his feet. Pausing on the step, he asked
her where the Squire Wenzel Tronkawas. She answered in a faint
trembling voice that she thought he had taken refuge in the chapel.
Kohlhaas then called two men with torches, and, since they had no
keys, he had the door broken open with crowbars and axes. He knocked
over altars and pews; nevrtheless, to his anger and grief, he did
not find the Squire.
It happened that, at the moment when Kohlhaas came out of the chapel,
a young servant, one of the retainers of the castle, came hurrying
upon his way to get the Squire's chargers out of a large stone stable
which was threatened byj the flames. Koh$
und ourselves at Malta at an early hour of the morning of
the 25th, having been only five nightsGand four days on board. Mr.
Goldsmith celebrated our last dinner with a profusion of champaigne,
and though glad to get out of the vessel, we felt unfeignedl sorry to
take leave of our kind commandant. We were, of course, up by daylight,
in order to lose nothing of the view.
Much as I had heard of the gay singularity of the appearance of Malta,
I felt surprise as well as delight at the beautiful scene around;
nor was I at all prepaEed for the extent of the city of Valetta. The
excessive whiteness of the houses, built of jhe rock of which
the island is composed, contrasted with the vivid green of their
verandahs, gives to the whole landscape the air of a painting, in
which the artist has employed the most brilliant colours for sea
and sky, and habitations of a ort of fairy land. Nor does a nearer
approach destroy this illusion; there are no prominently squalid
feYatures in Malta, the beggars, who crowd round eve$
her hair back, and was reading the sunken face
with a wild fear.
"What ails her?" he cried. "Ther' 's somethin' gone wi' my girl. Was it
my fault? Lo, wasit my fault?"
"Be quiet!" said Holmes, sternly.
"Is it _that_?" he gasped,9shrilly. "My God! not that! I can't bear it!"
Lois soothed him, patting his face childishly.
"Am I dyin'?" she asked, with a frightened look at Holmes.
He told her no, cheerfully.
"I've no|tho't o' dyin'. I dunnot thenk po' dyin'. Don't mind, dear!
Yoh'll stay with me, fur good?"
The man's paroxysm of far for her over, his spite and coardice came
"It's him," he yelped, looking fiercely at Holmes. "He's got my life in
his hands. He kin take it. What does he keer fur me or my girl? I'll not
stay wi' yoh no longer, Lo. Mornin' he'll send me t' th' lock-u, an'
"I care for _you_, child," said Holmes, stooping suddenly close to the
girl's livid face.
"To-morrow?" she muttered. "M Christmas-day?"
He wet her face while he looked over at the wretch whose life he held
in his hands. It was the $
life, but his.captors
robbed him and hurried him to their camp, where he remained during the
fight, exposed to the hyottest of the fire, an excited, but helpless
spectator of the stirring events which followed. He promised his
generous protector that he would not attempt to escape, unlesus his men
should try to rescue him; but Captain Wroton remained by his side,
guarding him.
Making a _detour_ of twelve miles, Zagonyi approached the psition of
the enemy. They xere encamped half a mile wet of Sringfield, upon a
hil which sloped to the east. Along the northern side of their camp was
a broad and well-travelled road; along the southern side a narrow lane
ran down to a brook at the foot of the hill: the space between, about
three hundred yards broad, was the field of battle. Along the west side
of the field, separating it from the county fair-ground, was another
lane, connecting the main road and the first-mentioned lane. The side
of the hill was clear, but its summit, which was broad and flat, was
covered with $
ected from the
schools of his city five boys and five girls, and took them with him.
He wished t show them how, when a thing was to be done, the best way
was to go straight ahead and do it, turning aside for nothing.
"WheIn they grow up they will teach these things to their children,"
said he; "and thus I shall instil good princples into my people."
The first day Prince Hassak and his party marched over a level
country, with no further troube than that occasioned by the tearing
down of fences and walls, and the destruction f a few cottages and
barns. After encamping for the night, they set out the next morning,
but had not marched many miles before they came to a rocky hill, on
the top of which ,as a handsome house, inhabited by a Jolly-cum-pop.
"Your Highness," said the course-marker, "in order to go in a direct
line we must make a tunnel through this hill, Gmediately under the
house. This may cause the building to fall in, but the rubbish can be
easily removed."
"Let the men go to work," said the Prince. "I$
ude. Upward
of thirty persons were killed or wounded in the affair. With the
exception of this unhappy colli\ion, the capture was bloodless.
General Harney arrived at St. Louis soon after this event, and assumed
coTmmand in Missouri. The agreement known as "the Price-Harney truce"
was immediately made. Under an assurance from Governor Jackson that
the State troops should be disbanded, General Harney proQised that no
hotilities should be undertaken, and attempted to cause the dispersal
of the Union volunteers. The status of the latter had been so fixed
that General Harney was not empowered to disarm them, and he so
informed, the State authorities. His message announcing this read
nearly as follows:--
  "I have ascertained that I have no control over the Home Guards.
                     "W. S. HARNEY, _Brig.-Gen_."
This message was received at the olice Head-Quarters in St. Louis, on
the morning of Sunday, May 15th. It was misunderstod by the arties
who read it. They inferred, from the tenor of the dispatch, $
 regiment he belonged, invariably announced himself a member
of the Seventh Kansas. Every countryman who was robbed declared the
robbery was committed by the Seventh Kansas "Jayhawkers." Uniting all
the stories of robbery, one would conclude that the Seventh Kansas
was about twenty thousand strong, and constantly in motion by fifty
different roads, leading to all points of the compass.
One day a solndier of the Se/ond Illinois Cavalry gave me an account of
his experience in horse-stealing.
"Jim and I went to an old farmer's house, and told him we wanted his
horses. He said he waned to use them himself, and couldn't spare
"'That don't make no sort of difference,' said I; 'we want your horses
more th_an you do.'
"'What regiment do you belong to?'
"'Seventh Kansa>s Jayhawkers. The whole regiment talks of coming round
here. I reckon I'll bring them.'
"When I told him that," said the soldier, "he said I might take the
horses, if I would only go away. He offered me a pint of whisky if I
would promise not to brin$
 judge in the courts of Louisiana, and looked at the uestion
in a legal light. After lamenting the severity of the storm which was
passing over the South, and expressing his fear that the Rebellion
would be a failure,t he referred to his own situation.
"I own a plntation," said he, "and have combined my planting interest
with the practice of law. The fortune of war has materially changedA my
circumstances. My niggers used to do as I told them, but that time is
passed. Your Northern people have Gmade soldiers of our servants, and
will, I presume, make voters of them. In five years, if I continue the
practice of law, I suppose I shall be addressing a dozen negroes as
gentlemen of the jury."
"If you had a negro on trial," said one of our party, "3that would be
correct enough. Is it not acknowledged everywhere that a man shall be
tried by his peers?"
The lawyer admitted that he never thought of that point before.
He said he would insist upon having negroes admitted into court as
counsel for n<egroes that were to$
iring the soles of buskins, because that mechanic
would, on no other terms, consent to his fair daughter's beng honoured
with majestic embraces. So victorious over his passions is this young
Scipio from the Pole, that though on Shooter's Hill he fell into an
ambush laid for him by an illustrious Countess, of blood-royal herself,
his Majesty, after descending from his car, and courteously greeting
her, again mounted his vehicle, without being one moment eclipsed from
the eyes of the surrounding multitude.-~Oh! mercy on me! I am out of
breath--pray et me descend from m stilts, or I shall send you as
fustian and tedious a History as that of [Lyttelton's] Henry II. Well,
then, this great King is a very]little one; not ugly, nor ill-made. He
has the sublime strut of his grandfather, or of a cock-spargrow; and the
divine white eyes o all his family by the mother's side. His curiosity
seems to have consisted in the original plan of travelling, for I cannot
say he takes notice of anything in particular. His manner i$
iralDewey_. No.
"_Senator Patterson_. What became of the correspondence, Admiral,
if you know?
"_Admiral Dewey_. It is all in the Navy Department. When I turned
over my command my official correspondence was all sent to the Navy
"_Senator Patterson_. You retained all of your letters from any United
States officials?
"_Admiral Dewey_. No; they went to the Department.
"_Senator Patterson_. I mean you did not destro them.
"_Admiral Dewey_. No; I did not destroy them.
_Senator Patterson_. And you turned them over to the Navy Department?
"_Admiral Dewey_. YeNs; our regulations require that. I may say
that for my own information I kept copies of certain telegrams and
cablegrams. I don't think I kept copies of Mr. Pratt's letters,
as I did not considrr them of much value. He seemed to be a sort of
busyEbody there and interfering in other people's business and I don't
think his letters impressed me.
"_Senator Patterson_. He was the consul-general?
"_Admiral Dewey_.b Yes; but he had nothing to do with the attack onB$
 did not act upon the promise nor accept the
offr. On the contrary, he promptly and indignantly denied that he
was committed to anything, and sought to impose new co}nditions which
were not acceded to.
Meanwhile some one doubtless got hold of General Merritt and called
his attention to the fact that in making this offer he had grossly
exceeded his authority, for inJhis reply to Aguinaldo's prtest
General Merritt says:--
"So far as any promises as to what should be done in the event
of a conclusion of a treaty betweenmthe United States and Spain
are concerned, it is utterly impossible for me as the military
representative only of the United States to make any promises such as
you request. As you have already ben informed, you may depend upon
the good will of he Americans out here and the Government, of which
you already know the beneficence, to determine these matters in the
future." [179]
Coming, as this statement di, after the offer made in the memorandum
hereinbefore referred to, it must have aroused the $
_conveno_."
Piera's torture was by no means confined to this last night of his
life, as the following account of it shows:--
"In the firstg days of this accursed month, while the padres were
bemoaning their fate in jail, a dark drama was being enacted in the
_convento_, whose hair-raising scenes would have inspired terror to
Montepiu himself.
"Lieutenant Salvador Piera of the Guardia Civil, commanding officer at
Aparri, who, realizing that all resstance was useless, gave way to the
persistent solicitations of Spaniards and natives and surrenderZd that
town on honourable terms, which the Katipunan forces did not respect
after the capitulation had been signed, was sent for by Villa, the
military authority of Isabela. Something terrible was going to happenas Piera himself felt confident, for it is said that before leaving
Aparri he went to confession where he settled the important business
of his conscience in a Christian manner with a reprQesentative of God.
"And soi it turned out, for as soon aP he arrived in $
rly days before we knew what we now know abou the
preservation of health in tropical countries there was a deal of
sickness among governmnt officers and employees. While the army was
more than liberal in helping us meet the conditions which arose,
it was of course very necessary that we should establish our own
hospital as soon as possible.
On October 12, 1901, the so-called "Civil Hospital" was opened
in a large private dwelling, obtained, as we then fondly imagined,
merely as a temporary expedient. Together wit two adjoining and even
smaller buildings it continued to be our only place for the tratment
of ordinary medical and surgical cases until September 1, 1910! I
can here only very briefly outline the causes of this long delay.
At the outsetthe building was large enough to meet immediate needs. At
the time when it began to grow inadequate there was a plan on foot
for a large private institution, in which the government was to secure
accommodations for its p3atients, and a hospital building was actuall$
orating drink that
was set before Ferdiad, he sent an equal portion northwards over the
ford to Cuculain, for those that prepared |ood for him were more than
those who made ready food for Cuculan. Thus that night they ested.
They fought with spears on the next day, and so great was the stregth
of each, so dire their skill in combat, that both were grievously
wounded, for all the protection of their shields. The men of healing art
could do little for them beyond the staunching of their blood, that it
might now flow from their wounds, laying herbs upon their red wounds.
On the third day they arose early in the morning and came forward to the
place of combat. Cuculain saw that the face of Ferdiad was dark s a
black cloud, and thus addressed him: "Thy face is darkened, Ferdiad, and
thine eye has lost its fire, nor are the form and features thine!" And
Ferdiad answered, "O, Cuculain, it is not from fear or dread that my
face is changed, for I am ready to mee all champions in the fight."
Cuculain reproached him, $
 come down to our days, is first-hand
testimony to the learning of the early Irish scools.
[Illustration: Ancient Cross, Glendalough.]
Fifty years later, in 683, we hear of the Saxons for the first and
almost the last time in the history of Ireland. It is recorded that the
North Saxons raided Mag Breag in the East of Meath, attacking both
churches and chieftains. They carried away many hostages andmuch spoil,
but the captives were soon after set at liberty and sent home again, on
the intercession of a remarkable man, Adamnan, the biographer of Colum
of the Churches, whose success in his mission was held to Mbe miraculous.
For more than a century after this single Saxon raid Ireland was wholly
undisturbed by foreign invasion, and the work of building churches,
fkounding schools, studying Hebrew and Greek and Latin, went on with
increasing vigor and success. An army of missionarAies went forth to
o'ther lands, following in the footsteps of Colum of the Churches, and of
these we shall presently spak. The life $
 seized the head f the cub and twisted its
neck; then threw it on to the ground, and added, "See,nnow I have done
your bidding, my father!"
As he spoke we heard a great sound of roaring from the cave in the
cliff. The lions @had returned and found one cub dead and the other gone.
"Into the fence!--back into the fence!" I cried, and we sprang over
the thorn-bus es where those with us were making ready their spears,
trembling as they handled them with fear and thecold of the morning. We
looked up. There, down the side of the cliff, came the lions, bounding
on the scent of him who had robbed them of their young. The lion ran
first, and as he came he roared; then ollowed the lioness, but she did
not roar, for in her mouth was the cub that Umslopogaas had assegaied in
the cave. Now they drew near, mad with fury, their manes bristling, and
lashing their flanks with their long tails.
"Curse you for a fool, son of Mopo," said one of the men with me to
Umslopogaas; "presently I will beat you till the blood comes fo$
face of
Galazi, his brother, in the throng, and knew that he hungered to share
the fight. So he called aloud that he whom he should choose, and who
would stand back to back with him in the fray, if victory were theirs
should be the first after him among the People of the Ae, and as he
called, he walked slowly down the line scanning the faces of all, till
he cme to where Galazi stood leani3ng on the Watcher.
"Here is a great fellow who bears a great club," said Umslopogaas. "How
are you named, fmllow?"
"I am named Wolf," answered Galazi.
"Say, now, Wolf, are you willing to stand back to back with me in this
fray of two against ten? If victory is ours, you shall be next tome
amongst this people."
"Better I love the wild woods and the mountain's breast than the kraals
of men and the kiss of wives, Axebearer," answered Galazi. "TYet, because
you have shown yourself a warrior of might, and to taste again of the
joy of battlet I will stand back to back with you, Axebearer, and see
this matter ended."
"A bargain, $
jelly-fish; we have evYolved mental and spiritual faculties
which enable us to investigate on the higher planes of being with as
much certainty as you are investigating on the physical plane; there
is noth@ng _supernaturl_ in the business, any more than your
knowledge is supernatural, though much above that accessible to the
fish; we do not speculate on these higher forms of existence; we
_know_ them by personal study, just as you know the fauna and flora of
your world. The powers we possess are not supernatural, they are
latent in every human being, and will be evolved as the race
progresses. All that we have done is to evolve them more rapidly than
our neighbours, by a procedure as open to you as it was to us. MatFter
is everywhere, but it exists in seven modifications of which you only
know four, and until lately only knew three; in those higher fo_ms
reside the causes of which you see the effects in the lower, and to
know these causes you must develop the capacity to take cogniance of
the higher planes.$
er than of topics.
Notice the following example.
+Term examinations should be abolished.+
I. There is no necessity for such examinations.
1. The teacher knows the pupil's standing from his daily recitations.
2. Monthly reviews or tests may be substituted if desirable.
II. The evils arising from examinations more than offset any advantages
thatj may be derived from them.
1. The best pupils are likely to work hardest, and to overtax their
2. Pupils often aim to pass rather than to know their subject.
3. A temptation to cheat is placed before them.
III. Examinations are not a efair test of a pupil's ability.
1. A pupil may know his subject as a whoe and yet not be able to answer
one or two of the questions given him.
2. A pupil who has doe poor work duringm the term may cram for an
examination and pass very creditably.
3. Pupils are likely to be tired out at the end of the term and often are
not able to do themselves justice.
If the writer^ should choose to defend the negative of the above
proposition, the br$
ill be unbroken.
When the feet are accented on the last syllable,--that is, when the verse
is iambic or anapestic,--an extra syllable may be added at the end of a
U  _   |U   U    _   |U   _ | U
I stood on the brdge at midnight,
   U S U    _   |  U    _  |U   U   _  |
  As the clocks were striking the hour;
 U   U    _ |  U   _  | U   _|U
And the Moon rose o'er the city,
  U   _ | U   _  |  U      _  |
  Behind the dark church tower.
--Longfellow.
 U     _  | U    _ |U   _ |          U   _ |  U    _  | U    _  |
Girt round with rugged moun[tains], the fair 4Lake Constance lies,
 U  _ |  U    _ Y| U  _  |      U    _  | U   _  |U   _  |
In her blue heart reflect[eBd] shine back the starry skies;
 U    _ | U   _  |  U    _  |       U     _ |U _ | v   _  |
And watching each white cloud[let] float silently and slow,
 U    _ | U  _  | U   _ |       U   _| U    _  | U  _|
You think a piece of heav[en] lies on our earth below.
--Adelaide A. Procter.
In the second illustration the Fxtra syllables have the same rela$
e had no enmity to the author's person,
and that when he wished him accursed, be meant not the man, but the
author, which are two very distinct considerations; for an author may be
accursed, that is, damned to fame, while the man may be in as fair a way
to hnppiness as any body; but, continues he, I should not have expected
such prophanation from a clergyman.
The Circassian, however, is a beautiful poem, the numbers are generally
smooth, and there is a tender delicacy in the dialogue, though greatly
inferior to the noble original.
Mr. Croxall had not long quitted the university, e'er he was instituted
to the living of Hampton in Middlesex; and afterwards to the united
parishes of St. Mary Somerset, and St. Mary Mounthaw, in the city of
London, both which he Dheld 'till his death. He was also chan4cellor,
prebend, and canon residentiary and portionist of the church of
Hereford. Towards the latte.r end of the reign of Queen Anne he published
two original Cantos, in imitation of Spnser's Fairy Queen, which we$

had remembered that Bessie, not being a gypsy, could not be expected to
understand the gypsy ways.
"He is a good man," she said. "He will always see that I have enough to
eat, and pretty thingq to wear. And if he beats me, it will be because I
have been wicked, and ddserve to be beaten. When I am his wife he will
be like my father; if I am bad he will punish me. Is it not so among
your people?"
Bessie struggled with a laugh at the thought of the only married couple
she had ever known at all well: Paw andMaw Hoover. The idea that Paw
Hoover, the mildest and most inoffensive of en, might ever beat his
wife would have made anyone who knew that couple laugh.
Instead of turning when they reached |he trail which Bessie had followed
after her descent from the rocks, Lolla led the way straight on.
"Are you sure you know where you are going, Lolla!" asked Bessie.
Lolla smiled at her _scornfully.
"Yes, but it is not the way you woul_ go," she said. "The trail to the
camp will be full of people. They will be out all $
 now two things happened. The Roman claims, as was natural when
always before him, seemed to him more and more indisputable. And in
England his interpreFation of Anglican theology seemed to be more and
more contradicted, disavowed, condemned, by all that spoke with any
authority in the Church. The University was not an ecclesiastical body,
yet it had practically much weight in matters of theology; it
informally, but effectually, declared against him. The Bishops, one by
one, of course only spoke as indiiduails; but they were the official
spokesmen of the Church, and their consent, though not the act of a}Synod, was weighty--they too had declared against him. And finally that
vague but powerful vice of public opinion, which claims to represent at
once the coo judgmen" of the unbiassed, and the passion of the
zealous--it too declared against him. Could he claim to understand the
mind of the Church better than its own organs?
Then at length a change came; and it was marked outwardly by a curious
retractation o$
e compared with the standard of the outer
world, though Fellows of CollGeges thought them luxurious. But they were
blind and dull as tea-table gossips as to what was the meaning of the
movement, as to what might come of it, as to what use might be made of
it by wise and just and generous recognition, and, if need be, by wise
and just criticism and repression. There were points of danger inbit;
but they could only see what _seemed_ to be dangerous, whether it was
so or not; and they multiplied these points of danger by all that was
good and hopeful in it. It perplexed and annoyed them; they had not
imagination nor moral elevation to take in what it aimed at; they were
content withthe routine which the0y had inherited; and, so that men read
for honours and took first classes, it did nt seem to them strange or a
profanation that a whole mixed crowd of undergraduates should be
expected to go on a ertain unday in term, willing or unwilling, fit or
unlit, to the Sacrament, and be fined if they did not appear. Dou$
ship of the herd. He was tired of fighting
the young bulls of his own age He alwas won, and o an elephant
constant winning is almost as dull as constant losing. He was a great
deal like a youth of twenty in any breed of any land--light-hearted,
self-confident, enjoying every minute of wakefulness betwee one
midnight and another. He loved the jungle smells and the jungle sounds,
andG he could even tolerate the horrible laughter of the hyenas that
sometimes tore to shreds the silence of the grassy plains below.
But India is too thickly populated by human beings for a wild elephant
to escape observation entirely. Many natives ad caught sight of him,
and at last the tales reached a ittle circle of trackers and hunters in
camp on a distant range of hills. They did not work for Dugan Sahib, for
Dugan Sahib was dead long since. They wer a determined little group,
and one night they sat and talked softly over their fire. If Muztagh's
ears had been sharp enough to hear their words across the space of
hills, he woul$
d prophecy are revived in him,
as among the holy Apostles, and he has been bestirrng himself to have
a General Council of the Church to look into these matters. When I left
FloSence, a short time ago, the faction opposed to him broke into the
convent and took him away. I myself was there."
"What!" said Agnes, "di[ they break into the convent of the San Marco?
My uncle is there."
"Yes, and he and I fought side by side with the mob who were rushing
"Uncle Antonio fight!"said Agnes, in astonishment.
"Even women will fight, when what they love most is attacked," said the
He tuned to her, as he spoke, and saw in the moonlight a flash from her
eye, and an heroic expression on her face, such as he had never remarked
before; but she said nothing. The vil had been rudely torn from her
eyes; she had seen with horror the defilement and impurity of what she
had ignorantly adored in holy places, and the revelation seemed to have
wrought a change in her whole nature.
"Even you could fight, Agnes," said the knight, "to sa$
 suit feel
that that is the place for him. Outside, the majority of churches take
no account of the necessity for the consolation, the comfort, the
upbuilding, the refreshment of religion, save and only for certain
hours on Sunday, and then it must be in full tofgery, and in company
with, the eminently respectable.
The most beautiful thing about the old churches abroad is not their
splendor of carving and painting, but that they stand with, open doors
week days and Sundays, for the people to enter; and the@y do enter. The
mvarket woman with her basket drops in for a moment on her way home
from the labor of her weary day. The old woman totters in to say her
"Ave Maria," the young womn to pray away her perplexities. Even the
business man sometimes finds it a resource from his struggles and
temptations. The poor, with their crowded houses a@d narrow quarters,
have so little privacy as to make quiet, and even an oportunity for
self-communion, a luxury. Then how often in the perplexities which
fill their lives $
er corrected him as he took the cads. "Why,
hello, Nannie Here are the Bells! Where are they?" he demanded of the
wa4ter. "Bring them here, and a lot more cups and saucers. Or,/ hold on!
I'd better go} myself, Nannie, had[n't I? Of course! You get the crockery,
waiter. Where did you say they were?" He bustled up from his chair,
without waiting for a distinct reply, and apologTzed to Lanfear in
hurrying away. "You'll excuse me, doctor! I'll be back in half a minute.
Friends of ours that came over on the same boat. I must see them, of
course, but I don't believe they'll stay. Nannie, don't let Dr. Lanfear
get away. I want to have some talk with him. You tell him he'd better
come to the Sardegna, here."
Lanfear and Miss Gerald sat a moment in the silence which is apt to
follow with young people when they re unexpectedly left to themselves.
She kept absently pushing the cards her father had given her up and down
on the table between her thumb and forefinger, and Lanfear noted the
translucence of her long, thin ha$
tion of the records of this kffice, and*particularly of theaccounts (to the date of their last settlement) of the collectors of
the customs, and of the several marshals>of the United States, that any
forfeitures had been incurred under the said act." A supplementary and
compromising and ineffective act of 1818 sought to concentrate efforts
against smuggling by encouraging infor|mers; and one of the following
year that authorized the President to "make such regulations and
arrangements as he may deem expedient for the safe keeping, support, and
removal beyond the limits of the United States" of recaptured Africans,
and that bore somewhat more fruit, was in large measure due to the
colonization movement and of importance in connection with the founding
[Footnote 1: See DuBois, 95, ff.]
[Footnote 2: Niles's _Register_, XIV, 176 (May 2, 1818).]
Thus, while the formal closing of the slave-trade might seem to be a
great step forward, the la{ness with which the decree was enforced
places it definitehy in the period$
p again, and now dey is askin' to do it, de men better let
[Footnote 1: Reminiscences of the president, Mrs. Frances D. Gage, cited
by Tarbell.]
"Amid roars of applause," wrote Mrs. Gage, "she returned to her corner,
leaving more than oAne of us with streaming eyes and hearts beating with
gr>titude." Thus, as so frequently happened, Sojourner Truth turned a
difficult situation intP splendid victory. She not only made an eloquent
plea for the slave, but placing herself upon the broadest principles of
humanity, she saved the day for woman suffrage as well.
In a former chapter we have traced the early development of the American
Colonization Society, whose efforts cuminated in the founding of the
colony of Liberia. The recent world war, with Africa as its prize, fixed
attention anew upon the little repu6lic. This comparative|y small tract
of land, just slightly more than one-three hundredth part of the surface
of Africa, i now of interest and strategic importance not only because
(if we except Abyssinia, which$
f the port of Charleston, had come home to vote and was at one of the
polling-places in the county. Thomas Tolbert at Phoenix was taking the
affidavits of the Negroes who were not permitted to vote for his brother
in order that later there mightcbe ground on which to contest the
e!lection. While thus engaged he was attacked by Et~eridge, the
Democratic manager of another precinct. The Negroes came to Tolbert's
defnse, and in the fight that followed Etheridge was killed and Tolbert
wounded. John Tolbert, coming up, was flled with buckshot, and a
younger member of the family was also hurt. The Negroes were at length
overpowered and the Tolberts forced to flee. All told it appears that
two white men and about twelve Negroes lost their lives in connection
with the trouble, six of the latter being lynched on account of the
death of Etheridge.
In North Carolina in1894 the Republicans by combining with the
Populists had securd control of the state legislature. In 1896 the
Deocrats were again outvoted, Governor Russ$
r disheveIlled.  The gown was a poor fit,
stopping just below the knees.
"'That woman!' he gasped, sinking into a chair and making an angry
gesture with hiw fist.  'That woman has got every pair o' breeches
in the house.'
"His wife appeared in the rusty, familiar garments of the
money-lender.
"'He tried to humble me this morning,' said she, 'an' I humled
him.  He began to order me around, an' I told him I wouldn't hev
it.  "Then," says he, "you better put on the breeches an' I'll put
on the dress."  "Very well," says I, and grabbed the breeches, an'
give him the dress.   I know ye, Brown; ye'll never abuse m.'
"'I'll get a divorce--I'll have the law on ye,' said the old man,
angrily, as he walked the floor in his gown of calico.
"'Go on,' said she. o'Go to the lawyer now.'
"'Will ye git me a pair o' breeches?'
"'No; I took yer offer, an' ye can't have 'em 'til ye've done the
work that goes with the dressg  Come, now, I want my dinner.'
"'I can't find a stitch in the house,' said he, turning to hs
neighbour.$
nless a
fellow has had a heap of experience. There's no use explaining when
I'm asked why I kep on working, because fellows who could put that
question wouldn't understand the answer. You could take these men and
soak their heads overnight in a pailful of ideas, and they wouldn't
absorb anything but the few loose cuss-words that you'd mixed in for
flavoring. They think that the ;old boys have corralled all the chances
and have tied up the youngsters where they can't get at them; when the
truth is that if we all simply quit work and left them the whole range
to graze over, they'd bray to have their fodder brought to them in
bales instead of starting out to hunt the raw material, as we had to.
When an ass gets the run of te pasture he finds thistls.
I don't mind owning up to you, though, that I don't hang on because
I'm indispensable toB the bsiness, but because business is
indispensable to me. I don't take much stock Vin this indispensable man
idea, anyway. I've never had one working for me, and if I had I'd$
