The Cardigan Observer and General Advertiser for the Counties of Cardigan Carmarthen and Pembroke

MABEL. I'm haunted-yes, I'm haunted Go wherssoe'er I may, A fairy sprite, a form of light, Still haunts me night and day. It is a lovely sprite, A shape of beauty rare, Whose ruddy lips the rose eclipse, And seem to scent the air. Her cheeks are like the morning The light in her dark eyes Upon me gleams as starlight streams Through rifts of cloudy skies. She smiles, and seems to love me, But when I fain would clasp That shape of light, the fairy sprite Eludes my eager grasp. 0 M>ibel! sweet enchantress What can this vision be, That takes thy guise, thy form and eyes, And, ghost like, haunteth me ? Hast thou with Love, the wizard, Combined to work me harm, And cast round me of glamoury A weird and fatal charm ? O Mabel! lovely Mabel! Thou whom I lov"! too well Or love return for which I yearn, Or take away the spell! For I am haunted—haunted! And though the sprite be fair, With wile and guile and luring smile She brings me to despair.

THE STRANGE CLAIMANT; OR, TWICE WED. CHAPTER V. f DEEPGANG. „' OUT upon the jutting cliffs and desolate coast, where Saul Meghorn had taken up his solitary abode, the storm raged even more fiercely, seeming to revel in total abandonment to its fury. The howling winds sent the huge, foam-crested waves dooming in succession against the rocks, upon whose sullen fronts they broke, and were scattered high into mid-air, descending in a shower of heavy spray or fell back, as if cowed by repula~, to join their fellow-waters. Then, again, the blustering winds, with a roar of discomfiture, seemed to gather all their forces, and drove on the towering billows that came in from afar, swelling as they rolled, till in triumph they leapt the rocky walls, and cast them- selves with a thunder-clap upon the shore. One upon another they came, dashing to the very doors of the lone house, beating at the casements, hissing down the wide chimneys while in swift succession the blue lightning flashed, and the crash of the thunder shook the building from the foundation to the roof. God help all poor souls at sea this night I" cried the old dame, as she shivered, and heaped more wood upon the fire, and swept in the ashes scattered by the blast. Many a storm I ha' seen in these parts, she buttered to herself, "but ne'er such a one as this- ne'er such a one as this." She turned some clothes, that were airing at the fire, in apparent expectation of some out-door wan- derer's return, and was in the act of putting a pair of shoes upon the hearth, when the whole room was lighted up by the vivid flash that blazed around it, AND was followed by a crash so appalling, it seemed as if the rocks were split asunder, and the whole Universe were tumbling into the abyss. The Lord be good to all us sinners!" cried the Poor, terrified creature, as she dropped into a chair and hid her face in her hands. She sat so till the echoes died and rolled away amid the rocks and for a minute there was silence, as if all Nature lay panic- stricken under that last fearful visitation. The wind fell to a moan, the very pattering of the rain made itself heard. Eh! and me all alone-a poor old body like me," Whined the crone. Where be the master this while, Wonder ? one would say he liked such awful nights best; and he'll be back in awhile, wet through, and-" She stopped short in her mumbling soliloquy, as a door in the rear of the house slammed to violently, and a heavy footstep passed rapidly along a passage and up the stairs. The eld woman had taken up a candle, and was hastening to show a light; but, as with a sudden thought, aha stayed, and shutting to the door gently, busied herself at the hearth as before. Meanwhile, Overhead, tI-fe hasty footstep passed heavily to and fro; thi r was a pause of some minutes then a Window opened on that side the building where the cliff jell abruptly to the sea, and the wind came pushing in, howling as if it grappled with something *t had been looking for and found at last, shrieking down the broad staira and through empty chambers On its way. There was a pause, and, very faintly, came the Plash of something falling into the waters below; then all was still: the casement was closed and made fast. Whether at the keenness of the penetrating blast, Or that, deaf as she was, she had distinguished the sound, the old woman gave herself a nervous shake, and then, busying herself about the room, now and a2ain muttering toJher?elf aloud, in her querulous Way, and after the habit of persons whs are accus tomed to bn much alone. r "Dorcus!" She did not hear till the call had been repeated twice from the stairs, then she hurried to the door 4zd opened it. Show a light here," said the deep, stern voice of Saul Meghorn. She did as desired, and he entered. He had evidently been cbanging his wet clothes up-stairs, for the linen he bad on was fresh he wore no coat, the sleeve of the shirt was turned back to the shoulder, the arm had been hurriedly bound in a silk handker- chief, which was stained through with blood, and he held it supported in the other hand. Here, bring your needles and thread, and doctor- stuffs •, I got a scratch on the rocks down below, and want botching up a bit. Quick, now! I must be going." Off again, master ? He made no reply; bat J^hile she get together what she needed, he, with little tenderness to himself, pulled off the bandage from his arm. "Eh! dear heart, dear heart! what a place! what place!" cried old Dorcas, as she beheld the raw, Jigged wound, that all but laid bare the bone; ye'd best have a real doctor to this here, master; llJdeed," she said, hesitatingly, "it be a bad place, sureZy." Stuff! he exclaimed, with an .oath; it'll heal In a week! I've had worse marks than that before and never a doctor but sea-water. Take and *nd it up and that sharp, too, or I shall be off with- out." The old woman uttered a low sound, half in com- miseration of her patient's hurt, half deprecatory of ^impatience, and set herself adroitly to her task. Meghorn knelt upon one knee, extending the arm to her. His eyes were fixed upon the five, his face Was paler even than was its wont; and now and again uis lipg were tightly compressed and his nostrils dated; the ghastly wound must have pained him orribly, but he never winced as the edges were drawn £ nor stirred a nerve of the limb. His long, black hair was thrust back from his °rows; the rain had drenched it, and the moisture ,ripped down upon his shoulders and on to the floor behind him. Has Yawmans been in ? he asked abruptly. replied in the negative. ««Tff°r from the Peep-o'-day ?" a *J,ay no one's been anigh the whole blessed night; 1 ld like to be skeered out o' what little wits I left, what wi' the thunder and the wind." *o 8 £ °ne Pa8t n°w. the worst of it," he said, as he from his knee, and she broke off her thread from e bandage. bj *\fc' ere the words had passed his lips, another to and swiftly-following peal gave a denial «< k0.8aid- break"3 w*nc* *3 changing, it will be clear at day- he said, confidently, as he threw on a rough <, V^.t&rpauhn, and hat, seaworthy. Hie >> the light, Dorcas, and bolt this door behind 6 followed him, but at the stair foot he stopped ^Ptly the Vr6^ at mess off," pointing with his finger to enjn r> where a bright red stain or two was deep- bleed ln^° wood this confounded scratch was °ncft 9,3 cam0« I could not stop it; wipe it off at Br* UuPe!iW.ent ouk *a*° ^he ground—half garden, half di8a,Lai,r:e^ down—which skirted the dwelling, and iar the old woman had shut to the fast, C °ae uPon his exit, and barred and bolted it tlae stai/k? 8a' ah°ut scrubbing out the eyesores on r. riiCln £ them at intervals to the door of Tk Cn.amber. strength ^es3ened in frequency and a°d the' aw°ke the echoes more'rarely, *!wea still .aTf j fallen to a growl. The vexed Sea wall lit (land beat at the base of the rocky Pacified • h,,f 4.? 1 na £ &ing woman, who will not be Deary r>,« ? tempest was evidently dispersing. e" deary me! it's an awsome life this!" grumbled the old woman, as she crept back to hei kitchen. "Eh! that be a bad place, in truth, and it's more than a scratch on the rock. They'll ha.bool1 falling in wi' the coast-guard, surely—well, well; ] do hope yon fellows got the worst on't. I oWe ]?eul no blessing. They took my lad from me—and if Saul do go lengths—well, well; what can a body do ? I mun lay the old bones somewhere." So she nodaed and grumbled in her chair, while the wood fire flickered and glowed, and the storm rolled down the horizon. From the front of Meghorn's dwelling place the down. or grass-grown rock, sloped off gradually to a platform or terrace below, where were erecteda.rustic seat or two, and which, thoroughly sheltered by the wall of rock, which hid it, too, from view of the house, and favoured by the warm sun and soft, south breeze, was as pleasant a resort as any hereabouts. This terrace or promenade was skirted 90(47 a mixture of woody shrubcery, hazel, ac £ berry, and wild cherry, interspersed with fern, clock, and flowering parasites. This verdant garwen. > 'air enough to look upon, did but cover the huge Jagged boulders of black rock which had dropped from the towering heights above, and which time and nature had united to robe in beauty. Beyond these the cliff fell suddenly off to the beach, two hundred and fifty feet below. The wide terra<.e continued, for some quarter of a mile, to the J* then narrowed, and, by a sudden sweep up*8* s> led to the open space or downs, crossing whicbi aI1 a8ain descending, jou reached the village; th?u £ the nearest, but less safe, road was by descending a ppe. cipitous natural path among the rocks. To the left the terrace continued some distance further, the sunny path becomipg greener, more extensive, till one came to the Chine- Imagination might here well have tempted a to fancy that, in the days when there S1&nts ift the land, some herculean majesty, in a capriciOu8 moment, had cleft the black rock asunder, and gather- ing up handfuls of earth's sweetest and fallest bloe- soms, scattered them broadcast over the jagged IDa*, set flowing the silver stream from above,. en !^U*d her majesty, the queen of giants, to ftnc* tafce her pleasure in the titan bower. High rocks towering on either side, as it seemed, to the clouds, were hung with verdure that» sea8«n, glowed with blossoms of a thousand hues ana Varied odours—the clematis, wild rose, hydrangea, and honjy. suckle; the strawberry, blackberry, and milky WObd nut; in the crevices hid the sweet flolet and p,,Ie primrose and waxen ivy draped the trunks of the sumachs which hung sideways over the torrtnt, quenching their blood-red foliage in it*, c.(? Waters. The willow, the ash, and silvery beech leB j^r shade and beauty to the charms of this lovel/ 5 While, from far up among the rocks out of & the never-failing cascade, that rolled, dasb11^ dark- ling, away incessantly; nourishing the '^ssoms and the thickening trees, taking its c0'ir8e n0lsily to the bottom of the Chine, and there glid1D8 Peacefully out upon the salt watefa. r bn In summer, it purled and danced down, scattering its diamond spray lavishly, around; but, when swollen by snows or heavy r*10? this season—it foamed ana roared, and ho1* J.86" head- long, adding its full share to the coØmotIon of the elements. Side by side with this sweet spot was th« dark gang or way, which gave its name t° P'ace. You had but to cross the Chine by the na ^al bridge at its head, or descending into It, mOUnt the other side, and you came upon a øéene so black, so j desolate and forbidding, that not the beauty of that which you had just passed could compete nor even, by contrast, augment the aspect of its natural horrors.. From the ridge of bare rock on which ypu atood- I emerging from the Chine—far as UP rose—dark, jagged, and threatening^™? a**6n of that sombre blackness which profiled on this por- tion of the coast. Abave, behind, on the opposite curve of \he wide bay that here fell deep inland, the eye rested only on the dark granite, which here, close at the feek fell off abruptly to the sea, hundreds of feet helot, whose breakers seem to dissolve noiselessly, tlj6 beach, even their thunder failing to attain a heiffht. Overhead the cliff projected man/ a°d,in former times, samphire had been abjysdW1^ gathe^ there, till, in the perilous pursuit, so øany had perished miserably, the place get an evil name, and Was aban- doned even by those daring trader0, i On many of the black, sharp P^^ o&fl, tfhich bristled out from the cliff, still A ^s of rags, which the villagers would point ? U^t*etiug, as the melancholy tokens of fearful co^ j,y; and the hardy ferns and heaths which %r°*, her0 and there, gained a horrible interest as one h^d tell of how the poor dead hand of the 8 a corpses picked up below, mostly held On UP °rft portion of ( such plant, grasped in the lastd08Pe,l"a clutehat life. However still the day and br, £ «e 8kiea» the wind never ceased about DeeP0ft^°' ^t kept UP a low, desolate moan, in and out and crevices, of which' the place was full 5 • „ „ 11 ^ever could wholly penetrate, but fell slant"13, tha cliffs beetle brow, filling it with *8 even at June noonday. «.+«;*„>. No wonder the place was l0* nor that the villagers would rather make anf,r.„ by the head ( ol the Chine than pass D00^, •f.'Kfcer dark; nor that the blackberries, which P1 overhung the cliffs between it and the to ripen and decay in peace. ;f Though the view from the stt • ,^aa the finest on the coast, though the 'ities of the sea- shore had boon found upon cov. » though its bay was smooth as glass, and as secluded as a bathing-room, Deepgang waS deserted, and the lovely Chine a desert. Deepgang was haunted •' _i, >i,nl The storm peopled it enO^ « night. With deep echoes, out fr°|7- vt ^ery bowels of the rock, as if, far within, so^e .u^^ ogre were forging the vast thunderbolts, aD? PfU (1-'a8 he opened his forge's mouth to cast them » £ r Jhe red flame leaped out, and lighted up sea, eft wa l. a hun- dred weird shadows—and howling, and pitiless beating of the 8t°rm» that night the Deep- gang was peopled, and as ^ith its own proper inhabitants. The while, in thb of the bay, where the overhanging cliff thrO'jf a perpetual shade of midnight—from between tb0 ^Uiks 0f some, masses of fallen rock—glimmered a light, faint, bnt steady. "Such folly a-shadin' of it, as if one mightn't make a bonfire %'> urch upon the Point, and not a creetur'd heed lC» ^bled a man, as he nevertheless placed the lan3p behind an inner niche of the cavern, where ho sat ^.otl,panion. As well to be safe, long as you stick to orders, all's fair sailing, it goes. Orders r' grumbled «J* W replacing in hjs mouth the pipe he had rfT; *t the lamp. Ye ha' said order* f lthat s not what I calls am calls it all just I Iglow He puffed his pipe J in cheerful con- trast to himself, for ^l^tly put out. The place where Were seated was a natural cavern in T,° f' w^h had,,apparently been adapted for a wat<!h, or resprt, or even an occasional d weIli"g-place. From some small projections hung seferal coats. tapeS, and leggings, such as seafaring wear it basket or two, and some nets, of the fi0hermen-j)toperty styIe, were there; some oars and 'ftaned in a. corner— cooking utensils, with brazier of ignited charcoal, were in a recess that g £ T? crevices upon the sea on another niched sneu the lamp; and, resting each an elbOW" upon the shelf, their feet stretched towards the PrMier, eat the men, with pipe in mouth. They were dressed ? °*dinarf attire of fisher- men, but, in addition* *0re a broad, thick, belt about his loins, to wb»clj_wa« afctacbed a short cut- lass their coats their brawny shoul- ders, in red woollen cOv6red by a loose rug. of shaggy blue; a ,afticle half, hung from a hammock Both were weU-b"1"' aWe-bodied men; one, some twelve years the senIor the younger, lesa weather- beaten and wild i» buthe wore an air of careless, selfish, a°d aDaad^ed recklessness, though his language and i»a.n."era» in that company, re- tained signs of educa, n and culture. You said ord0f ^ulated the man who had first spoken ;-be ^fjhepipe from his mouth, laid it slowly on the taWe beaide a°d, leaning his hands upon his knees, bent forward, as he addressed hW,,S3o"ll[e3't!jj0u could remember, as I do, the times when WfJoft a deck of our own-ay, of as fine a bit of as ever were afloat—if you'd seen her, colours and set sails spanking along, like a cloud afore t e Wind — five-and-twenty fine as fellows as ever stepped ashore, or boarded a enemy 9f His voice gr0* lou,der and his eleamed» ^hile he continued rapidly- Her decks like a bit 0' driven snow, not a rope's end awry-taut and trim as a maid, on her wedding day why, her Suns shone againj I 8f7' m60n Foulkes, if yon d kn°wn what it was to walk the seas aboard that brig, and second only in command to him—we 11, y<>u I do, o' this here milk-and- watery, bide-aIid-feek, 8ta at-home business, foolery, you'd /ay •' and that's all about it. He returned to hi8 former attitude, took up his pipe, and mto silence. «« i» said bis matej j have heard all that before —it's a pity ■ ^e°^e *hat him give up such a stirring course ot thmg8 ? I dort know, no more 'n you. It come over l him whenfirst he took to coming ashore too much, that's whit I always said it were. Spoilt me too, for that water, he did. I couldn't make out to leave him, or Ii a stuck to the old brig; but I must take my shareand set up tebacco-trade inland. But it Wouldn't^0 I give in, found my w»v back to salt Water, fj" in with the capt'n again, and here we are here. Weli and not so bad a stroke have we done this 8ix montf8 past." Ohi^ s play, Simeon. What d'ye say to board- ing of « Spaniard ? cut down three with my own hand-Pod hard metal, nigh a ship-load 'atween some ttfrty on us—not to talk o' precious stones and \Vhat nj,. liRa! and the liquors first-class," cried the other, exultinfv- II TdUse, Simeon Foulkes, as the capt'n says; to use, L4t not abuse. Never a drop would we dare touch'ong as work were to be done that wanted Bteady hands and clear heads but afterwards—oh! ay, afIt, my lads, and make the most of your time, -the boys loved him, too, to a man they did. • Tbe/e s the head-piece as should rule a nation,' I oftenfsaid to my mates. Think of him the other day a baling the life-boats, and a carrying of the poor droned wretches to bis place yon', and us a working to d<aw em on the rocks, and laying hands on all, abot0 and below, of whatsomever value might be." Tte younger man laughed a heartless, reckless laugh. "rj 8 the way with more in the world than Siul he dId at least save the lives of the poor devils, if he OTtibked em first. You'd have helped them to the bottom, eh, Mat ? Hi that's about it—though look yê, now, don't yoØ- Judge me too harsh. I have done the Christian thing by a fellow-critter afore now, though I say it. Now, ye see this watch ? He took out a massive silver-watch, attached to a b«aY' °^d-fashioned chain about his breast. "Ay, often, have wished it was mine," replied lazily the other, between puffs of his pipe. Well, it was a Dutchman—in a calm, too—the rummest go it was; we'd laid hold upon her all like unawares, and took 'em off their guard, settled the business of some half-dozen or so, and had the vessel and cargo all in our hands in no time. I heerd it as I was going below—a sort of moan --and somebody calls Jem.' I answered for Jem, seeing, as I expect, Jem was done in that line for good and all. 11 In his berth he was, a young Englishman, bad wi fever; I give him some water-he asked for it, for be took me for Jem all along, ye eee-aud he said he was dyillg-he know'd it. Now I might ha' finished the lad] in a minute with my cuMass; but, instead, I stood for Jem, and heerd all he had to say. He put this here watch into my hands with a letter, and he asked me, when I got home to a village that he named on the Devon coast, to take it to her- the young woman as the letter was writ to. Some more he said I forgot, then he died in peace. Now will ye say I was hard ?" Well, but the watch i" Ay, ay; it were a while afore things squared for me to get into those parts; but the time did come, and we laid by a bit. French colours I mind we carried as we rode off that very coast, and I minded me of the watch. So I went, and I feund the wench; a well-favoured lass she wur she had a leaning like to sailor men, thinking of him, and I wur made welcome. I let on I was a mate of his; then I showed her the watch—she knew it-told her he'd sent it as a token, his ship was there, but he couldn't get leave ashore, but would meet her if she would come in the boat so far with me. "She jumped at it-simple thing she was; of course I took her aboard our craft; the capt'n was ashore, and most o' the hands—only me, and the cook, and a lad." "Well!" Of course she blubbered, and raised a shindy when she found the cheat, but she didn't go back." What became of her ?" Well, I never could mnke out whether it were o' purpose or that she fell overboard; but three days after she was missing. Yes, that's the 'dentical watch." He coolly passed his huge, rough hand over the watcb, which had lain on his knee during the recital, wid replaced it in his breast, then smoked compla- Bently; the other took his pipe from his lips, spat into the charcoal, and drew a> long breath. You're about the deepest-dyed villain I ever did come across," he said, and that's saying a good deal. I've been bad enough myself, but hang me Don't say that," said the other, hastily. No, it should be you first," grimly laughed the atfcer. "Well, I don't know it's a matter of opinion, Simeon Foulkes. Now I can't, for my part, make out & man born to one fortun', and coming into another, running through 'em both, and breaking of his old mother's heart, and bringing her and his sisters to beggary, and to cursing him. I never had a mother to love, but if I had, villain as I am, she shouldn't ha' wanted, I'm thinkin'; I never chucked away some- wheres about ten or twelve thousand, and down my throat neither." Hold your tongue!" roared the other. "Yon might keep civil, Simeon Foulkes; there mayn't be much to choose." Hark!" cried the other, as he sprang to his feet and held up his hand. I heard a cry A gull blown again the rock." "No, no! I know There! there it was again! 3on't you hear ?" "Not I—it's mayhap one o' them darned coast guards; they're as skeered as gals, the young uns, of » black night." I wish to the blazes I was a coast guard, or any mortal thing alive, to have some pction this rotting in a hole don't suit me. A short life and a merry one!" He turned half rounds as if for a glass at his elbow. Confound it! andlno grog. It'd be as much as my life or yours is worth, to brew it afore orders. Why, he shot 'a man dead for that very thing once; he'd done it and was warned, and the next time it wor the bullet." How it comes down," said Foulkes, after a long pause; I don't remember ever such a storm—we'll run nothing, Yawmans, to-night." Not afore daybreak—storm! oh, ay, I been in worse-" He stopped short, as a long, shrill whistle came wmding up, apparently from the centre of the rock. "There's the capt'n said Yawmans, in a subdued whisper, and springing to his feet, he drew aside the coats, Ac., which hung upon the walls, and applying his mouth to a crevice, uttered a long, low, peculiar cry. There was a sound of a bar let drop, and then a long slip of the solid rock revolved, slowly disclosing a long, dark passage, out of which stepped Saul Meg- horn, a shaded lantern in his hand. (To be continued.)

MARRIED TO HER SCHOOL- MASTER. .+- ï t SCHOOLMASTER—Lizzie Wayrie laughed out loud!" cried a big boy from the corner of the schoolroom. The master, a handsome young man of 22, looked around ifc amazement.. Is that true, Elizabeth 1" he inquired, taking a few steps towards a little girl in one of the back seats, who sat with crimsoning cheeks, and downcast eyes, the very image of shame and terror. There was no need to repeat the question. What! You, Lizzie! one of my best girls! I am very sorry." And in truth the kind-hearted master was deeply sympathising with the child; for Lizzie Wayne had been his especial favQurite, and never be- fore had he had occasion to punish or reprove her. A serious look of his large brown eyes, when he read in the child's speaking countenance that her thoughts were more on fun than study, was the only check he had as yet found necessary in Lizzie's case; though we are speaking of a district school twenty years ago, when, as many of us know, school-discipline was quite another thing from what it is at present. Then, too. Lizzie was so docile, so smiling, BO apt to learn, and repaid his exertions for her improvement so abundantly, that it was impossible to help feeling more than a common degree of interest in her. If a difficult test question were propounded, or a puzzling sum to be wrought upon the black-board, Lizzie's black eyes never failed to sparkle, and her little fat hand to rise, in token of her readiness to answer. Though not yet 13, she had distanced nearly all the older scholars, and invariably occupied the highest place in her classes. And now she was in disgrace- poor little Lizzie! The school was large, and not a few of the pupils, particularly among the older boys, disposed to in- subordination, and even open disobedience. In fact, the master of the previous winter had actually been conquered and expelled from the house by them. In consequence of this, Mr. Clinton had deemed it necessary to adopt stringent rules, and rigidly adhere to them. He had got on exceedingly well through the first half of the term; but, of late, symptoms of rebellion had manifested themselves, which induced him, among other new regulations, to give notice that any scholar guiltv of laughing aloud in school hours should be punished by standing on the floor by the master's side. Lizzie, though not the first, was the oldest girl who had yet incurred the penalty, and this, added to the fact that she had never in her life received correction in school, made her mortification and grief painful indeed to witness. Mr. Clinton, however, suspected what she did not -that it was jealousy of her high standing in his esteem that had led some of the larger boys to watch her conduct, and inform against her. He knew that he was accused, in school parlance, of "showing par- tiality" to Lizzie Wayne, and felt thtt it would be hazarding his authority over his pupils now to make an exception in her favour. So it was with a feeling of real concern that he entered her seat and said gently: "Elizabeth, your conduct has hitherto been so unexceptionable that I cannot help thinking this matter a sad accident; nevertheless, you will, I be- lieve, submit willingly to the penalty, as a good girl should, for the sake of order and disciplino in the school." Lizzie did not speak but the pitying master could see that she trembled in every limb, and that the per- spiration had started in large beads on her burning forehead. If I remit the penalty for you, Lizzie, I must for another, and another, and then there would be an end of school government. Do you not perceive this ?" "Yes, sir! whispered Lizzie. Come, then, and show before the school that you love law and order well enough to submit quietly to a just and necessary regulation, however unintentional your offence may have been." Still Lizzie did not move. To stand in the middle of that great, light room, with forty-five pairs of curious eyes bent scrutinisingly, and some, I am sorry to say, triumphantly upon her! It was more than hsr sensitive nature could contemplate unap- palled. Mr. Clinton saw that it was not obstinacy, but un- conquerable fear and diffidence that prevented her from obeying; and rightly judging that her embar- rassment would only increase with continued sus- pense, took her arm and whispering, "Come, my child time presses," led her gpntly from her seat. Poor Lizzie rose, and with a feeling as if she were being whirled over a precipice, followed him into the loor. Mr. Clinton did not conduct her to the centre of the room, but left her standing a few feet from her uwn desk, and facing it while he went on with the recitations; and in fifteen minutes permitted her to return to her seat. But for more than an hour Lizzie's tear swollen cheek was rested sadly on her leak and not for the whole day did her bright face ling out its wonted sunshine. Very soberly she put )n her bonnet and clOjk at the hour of dismissal, and icarcely raised her eyes, as, in accordance with the lsual custom, she bade the master good evening. I hope she has not conceived a dislike for me, md a repugnance to the school, from this unfortunate iffair," said Clinton to himself, as he locked the ichool-room door, and looked after the interesting Julprit, now slowly mounting the stope,of her father's Muse. So obedient as she has always been, and so iweet-tempered. I would rather it had been any other "irl in the school." But next day, though Lizzie ooked a little shy at first, a few kind words and tokens )f confidence from her master, set all right between ihem; and the engaging little maiden kept her place w Mr. Clinton's best scholar for the remainder of the winter, and even on the dreaded "Examination day Six years afterwards, one clear, starry evening in winter, a large party of young people, with not a few (lderly ones interspersed,were assembled about a bright ire in Mr. Wayne's commodious parlour. A minister s there, looking, however, at this time, anything but lolemn; but the cynosure of all eyes is our friend Lizzie, who, more beautiful than even her childhood promised, and. most charmingly dressed withal, is itanding at one end of the room, leaning con- Idingly upon the arm of a gentleman, who ever md anon looks down into her beaming eyes with a jroud and tender smile. It is Lizzie's wedding night. Already the few weighty sentences have been spoken, and now, while ibe stands there, waiting to receive the congratula- te ns of her friends, the bridegroom suddenly bends lown, and whispers in her ear: Do you know, darling, that yow have just now, of rour own accord, and with apparent willingness, assumed a position which you once before occupied, ;hough not without great reluctance, and if I re- nember rightly, some little constraint ? "Not" answered the bride, looking up in per- plexity, what position do you mean, pray ? Standing up with the schoolmaster he replied, raily, j ust as a troup of merry beaux and bells came up 0 kiss "the bride, One roguish hoyden, who re- nembered the circumstance well, had caught his vords, and now increased Lizzie's coafusion by ex- :Iaiming—" Oh, my dear Mrs. Clinton have you )een laughing in school again ? Take care—take -are! It's a dreadfully mortifying thing to stand on ihe floor with the schoolmaster!" _i_u'n'

LADIES' COLUMN. --+-- t. THE FASHIONS. FEATHERS are more popular than ever (says Eliane de Marsy in the Queen) on hats and bonnets, as a matter of course, they are worn, but also on dresses and mantles. Ball dresses are to be trimmed with feathers that have been dipped in silver and gold baths; marabouts are in great favour, particularly the pale blue and pale pink ones. I have already alluded to the monster pins that are seen on bonnets trimmed with feathers these so-called,, 6pingles de nourrice" are now worn for headdresses, and the newest coiffure of this sort is called the Russian headdress. It consists of a coronet of three plaits, in which five large pins with monster ball heads are studded. For blondes jet pins are used; for brunes pale tortoiseshell and dead gold are more becoming. Kid bonnets have had their day, and are passing out of fashion, but they will not be regretted, for they were never pretty. Capotes of drawn satin to match the dress, and capotes made of row upon row of narrow black lace are more popular. Mme. Caroline Beboux is making capotes coquillages formed of a quantity of narrow black lace, whicharemost becoming. She ornaments them with a Princess of Wales aigrette, composed of three feathers, and sells the aigrettes separately, so that they can be easily changed. Pink aigrettes are worn for calls white aigrettes powdered with gold for the theatre, and black aigrettes for the streets. Double faced satin ribb6ns are now in vogue for making up bows that are worn at the throat or in the hair. The ribbons are about an inch wide, and two or three colours are clustered together. Pale pink is combined with garnet, olive- brown with pale blue, moss-green with pink, cream with cardinal. The new Worth bow for the hair con- sists of six stiff narrow loops strapped tightly in the centre, showing the same combination of colours as the bow at the throat. Waistbands for the front of dresses that have Prin- cesse backs are so popular that they are now added- to Princeese polonaises. Some of the latter have a belt of the same material, set in at the first dart, and this belt is so wide that three or four large buttons are required to fasten it. In other polonaises the belt commences under the arms.

USEFUL HINTS. SPINACH.-Pick and wash perfectly clean two or three pounds of spinach, put it into a saucepan with a little water, and let it boil till quite done. Turn it out on a hair sieve to drain, throw the water away, and pass the spinach through the sieve. Put a good lump of butter into a saucepan with a pinch of flour, mix well, add the spinacb, pepper and salt to taste, and a little milk stir well and serve. EVERTON TOFFEE.-Take one pound and a half of moist sugar, three ounces of butter, a teacupful and a half of water, and one lemon. Boil the sugar, butter, water, and half the rind of the lemon together, and when sufficiently done-which will be known by drop- ping into cold water, when it should be quite crisp-let it stand aside until the boiling has ceased, and then stir in the juice of the lemon. Butter a dish, and pour it in about a quarter of an inch in thickness. The fire must be quick, and the toffee stirred all the time. SHOW us a lady's bonnet (says an American contem- porary), and we'll tell you what sort of an institution she is. If it is showered with red ribbons, cupids, bowls, &c., she is as full of love and poetry as a country inn of politeness and loafers. If it gees in- for simple wrinkles, plain colours, and a couple of modest knots, she is a perfect jewel, sweet, sunny, mild, but as affectionate as a freshly nursed kittrn. If it is "stuck all over" with a paradise of clover, three- storey ostrich-feathers, wax-hollyhock and juniper berries, put it square down that the calico is a single establishment, and will never see a fortieth birthday. Bonnets are a true index of women. You fancy, perhaps, as you have been told 80 often, that a wife's rule should be over her husband's house, not his mind. No; the true rule is just the reverse of that. A true wife, in her husband's house, is his serr vant it is in his heart that she is queen. What- ever of beet he can conceive, it is her part to be; whatever of highest he can hope, it is hers to promise all that is dark in him she must make pure all that is failing in him she must strengthen into truth.; from her, through all the world's clamour, he must win his praise; in her, through all the world's warfare, he must find his peace. How TO CLEANSE THE TEETH.—This simple opera- tion is one that is sadly neglected. Its object is, first, to keep the teeth in a good state of preservation by preventing the accumulation of foreign matters about the teeth, and which by giving rise to acid hurt the teeth secondly, to prevent the formation of tartar, which interferes with the close adherence of the gums to the teeth and, thirdly, to keep the breath sweet: and wholesome by preventing necomposing matters irom lodging about the teeth. The teeth should be brushed, not so as to give discomfort or to make the gums bleed, though freely and with a fair amount of force. It is not only necessary that the teeth should be brushed crosswise, but the toothbrush should be used up and down," so that the bristles of the brush may get into every nook and corner about the teeth, and dislodge any particles of food or dirt that may be sticking about them in out- of-the-way places. Then the toothbrush should be passed as much as possible over the back of the teeth and over their crowns. This operation should be gonfc through every night and every morning; par- ticularly at night, so as to get away the accumulation of the day.- Cassell's Househ o Id Guide.

VARIETIES. No man forgets respect to another who knows the value of respect to himself. FOLLIES OF THE WISE.-The wise man has his follies no less than the fool; but it has been said that herein lies, the difference—the follies of the fool are known to the world, but are hidden from himself; the follies of the wise man are known to himself, but are hidden from the world. HOAXING THE LEARNED. — Jacob Bobart, the younger, and son of a German horticulturist of the same name, who superintended the Physic Garden in Oxford in the 17th century, once played an ingenious hoax on the learned of that university. He found a large dead rat in the garden, and transformed it by art into the shape of a dragon as represented in old and curious books of natural history, particularly in Aldrovandus. This was shown to various learned men, all of whom believed it to be a genuine and invaluable specimen of the dragon. Many fine copies of verses were written by the literati in honour of Bobart and his matchless discovery, and persons flocked from all parts to see it. Bobart owned the cheat some years after, but it was for a long time preserved as a master- piece of art. THE JAPANESE Rip VAN WINKLE.-The Japanese have the story of Rip van Winkle in another form. A young man fishing in his boat on* the ocean was in- vited by the goddess of the sea to her home beneath the waves. After three days he desired to see his old father and mother. On parting she gave him a golden casket and a key, but begged him never to open it. At the village where he lived all was changed, and he could get no trace of his parents until an aged woman recollected having heard of their names. He found their graves a hundred years old. Thinking that three days could not have made such a change, and that he was under some extraordinary spell, he opened the box. A white vapour rose, and under its influence the young man fell to the ground. His hair turned gray, his form lost its youth, and in a few months he died of old age. SCENTS AND CENTS.—The other day Mr. Middlerib stopped at a grocery store and bought some onions, giving the grocer a two-dollar bill. Among the change handed back to the customer was an old one- dollar bill. It had been taken in that morning for kerosene oil, and there was just a dash of the oil on it that had been spilled in the morning. Then the grocer had laid it on a pile of codfish while he fixed the stopper in the oil can. Then he had it on his hand while he cut off a couple of pieces of cheese, and the cheese on the bill struggled with the codfish and kerosene for pre-eminence. Then it got a little touch of mackerel and a little tincture of stale egg on it, and at last the grocer stuffed it into his pocket along with a plug of tobacoo, and finally, when Middlerib got it with his onions, he held it to his nose once or twice, sniffed it with an investigating air, and at last walked out of the store with a cheerful countenance, saying, By George, we're all right now. Good times are here again, and the Government is paying one hun- dred scents on the dollar." A CLEVER DIPLOMATIST.-When Queen Elizabeth first proposed to Defoe, the famous civilian, to employ him on a diplomatic mission to Flanders, she told him, among other things, that he should have twenty i shillings a day for his expenses, which at that time was thought a liberal allowance. "Then your High- ness," said the doctor, "I will spend nineteen shil- lings a day in your Majesty's service." What will you do with the odd shilling ?" said the Queen. Oh, I will reserve that for my wife and two chil- dren." This answer had the effect intended, and a considerable increase was immediately made in his allowance. During Dr. Dale's stay in Flanders, he was, notwithstanding, pressed for money, and thought of a novel plan to get a supply; he sent in a packet to the secretary of state two letters; one to the Queen, and the other to his wife, which he misdirected, so that the letter to his wifo was addressed To her most excellent Majesty," and that to the Queen inscribed To his dear wife." The Queen, having opened the letter, was surprised to find it beginning with "Sweet- heart," and afterwards interlarded with my dear," "my love," and other affectionate, expressions. It concluded with requesting her to be very economical, for he could send her nothing, as he was very short of money, and could not think of trespassing on the bounty of her Majesty any further. Whether the Queen suspected the trick, or believed in his necessi- ties, is not certain; but an immediate supply of money was sent both to the Doctor and his family. THE FAITHFUL HAWK.—The Persians relate of one of their Kings, that being one day on a hunting party with his hawk upon his hand, a deer started up before him; he let the hawk fly, and followed it with great eagerness, till at length the deer was taken. The courtiers were all left behind in the chase. The King, thirsty, rode about" in quest of water till, having reached the foot of a mountain, he discovered some trickling down from a rock in drops. He took a little cup out of his quiver, and held it to catch the water. Just when the cup was filled and he was going to drink, the hawk shook his pinions and overset the cup. The King was vexed at the accident, and ap- plied the cup to the crevice in the rock. When the cup was replenished, and he was lifting it to his mouth, the hawk clapped his wings and threw it down a second time. The King, enraged, flung the bird with such against the ground, that it expired. At this moment the table-decker came up. The King having still a great mind to taste the water that trickled down the rock, but being too impatient to wait till it was again collected by drops, he ordered the table-decker to go to the top of the rock, and fill the cup at the fountain head. The table-decker on reaching the top of the rock found an immense serpent lying dead, and his poisonous foam mixing with the water that fell over. He descended, related the fact to the King, and presented him with a cup of cold water out of his own flagon. As the King lifted the cup to his lips, the tears gushed from his eyes. He related to the table-decker the adventure of the hawk, and reproached himself deeply for the fatal conse- quences of his anger and precipitancy. During the remainder of his life, say the Persians in their figura- tive style, "the arrow of regret continually rankled in his breast." ROME, BY AN ENGLISH HOSTLER.—Rome, also, eur author regards from his own point of view, admitting that it has many aspects and invites almost as many judgments. An English hostler, of wiiom he speaks with the approval due to an independent observer, re- marked to the author, There's heverything you can wish for in Romo-Hemperors and Popes, and temples and churches, and the Colosseum and Wattican and, bless yer, there ain't a 'ossier place out." Neither differing from the hostler, nor omitting to notice the condition and prospects of "sport" in the sacred city, the writer maintains that Rome, apart from its historic associations, is chiefly noticeable as the city of religious masquerade and shaves," i.e palpable lies most plausibly related." The tone in which he speaks of the festal doings of her ecclesiastics is by no means reverential, and will cause many a connoisseur in ritualism to regret that so powerful a delineator should be so signally deficient in light and sweetness but to Englishmen, who have not yet learnt to think of Rome as the ever-living fountain of truth or to deem the Reformation the grand* blunder ef eur history, the writer's playful manner of dealing with a Roman festival will be more amusing than offensive.—Sala's "Home and Venice." DUALITY OF SCOTTISH NATIONAL CHARACTER.— Scotland will be one of the last countries in Europe- much as she has been changing of late years-to lose her ancient characteristics. With. all the prose in her daily life, all her eagerness in money-making, all her sectarian severity, all her hard-headed, hard-handed efforts to be only practical, and to take the lead in what is practical-and with het Radicals sitting in every borough-a strong vein of feudalism, a thread of minstrelsy, runs through the old kingdom, and has far more effect upon her than the people themselves suppose. This is the aecretof their Wallace Monu- anent, Burns Centenaries, and Scottish Rights move- ments; of that respect for historic families and ancient names which sometimes breaks out. even ludicrously in persons who are determined to deny the political deductions from such a sentiment. Now, all this ardour of temperament is at once the cause of her minstrelsy and is acted on by her minstrelsy, as the mist which at one time rises from the bosom of earth descends upon it at another in the form of refreshing dew. The very differentia of the Scot's character is the union of more than worldly keenness with more than ordinary susceptibility to romantic influence. James Hannay. A ROBBERY ACCOUNTED TOR.—Of all the stories about robbers, we must give the palm to the follow- ing:—A chief of the old patriarchal and feudal school, with whom I was acquainted, possessed, a few years ago, an impregnable castle, in a wild and rocky country, which he filled with bold and devoted re- tainers. A party of gentlemen, connected, I believe, with one of the foreign legations, arrived at the stronghold and was received with hospitality but on the following morning, when returning to Nauplia, was stopped by a body of men, manifestly sent from the castle, and plundered. On reaching Nauplia, it so happened, that the first individual met by the prin- ciple member of the pillaged party was the very son of this mountain chief, who, having received his education in the town, and having even spent some time at Paris, was as complete a representative of young France as his father was of feudal Greece. Chancing to be asked the time of day, the traveller replied that he should have had the utmost pleasure in giving the desired information, but that he had been unhappily deprived of his watch that morning by his father's band; to which the youthful heir of the robber is reported to have answered, with all the indifference of good society, that the levent was equally unfortunate to both, as it deprived his friend of that which could not be easily replaced in Greece, and precluded him from ascertaining the time of day exactly when he most required to know it, for the ful- Glment of a particular engagemellt.-Lord (JarnørtJtm', Reminiscences of Athens," NICE SERVANTS. — We had another pretty servant after this—a slight, pale-faced thing, with carrotty hair. It was not "golden auburn," Mr. IJ., and my blood boils when I think of the way you used to look at that baggage as you were cutting the cheese at dinner. You must wear goloshes, mitst you, in wet weather? and Miss Golden Auburn "—her name was Fanny, but I always called her by her name. Champ it took her 'pride down—must help my gentlenvls o& and off with his goloshes morning and evening, K&ti, of course, the goloBhes neve^ could he foHind: and pretty carryings on there were in the halL I didn't loose my temper-I never do; but when this kind of thing had been going on about a fortnight, I said to my 'fine lady with the" golden auburn hair-" OtEt,of my house you go! there's a month's^wages; rack and be off!" She went; and I promise you that I neve* had any more pretty servants. And whea the doot had closed upon this most designing puss. I ttWfifti Mr. H. quite calmly, and I said, Henry, I kfide bees to you a loving, a faithful, an obedient, ani wife. I have lavished on you all the 11 IIIIBWIMMBB woman's tenderness and sympathy. Henry, IS^^H borne all your insults, all your outrages, with ang4nna meekness," and with that I up with my open hand^> !|| and I caught him a box on the left ear, which, he after* If wards admitted made him see fireworks. We had a dreadful scene; and for more than a week he re- mained away, staying at a dreadful place called the Garrick's Head, in Bow-street, where there was a porter up all night, and dissipated people ate potatoes like balls of flour, and steaks from a mahogany grid* iron, I think it was; and a stout old gentleman called Baron Nickleby, preached mock sermons about horse- racing. But I fetched him home in a hansom cab, and v; e lunched at the King's Arms, Kensington; and I forgave him. Ah! woman is always forgiving some- thing or somebody.—Mr. Sala in Belgravia. PARLIAMENTARY DrvmoNa.—It may be fitting to sote here the great earnestness displayed by the Members of this, the first House of Commons elected under an extended franchise, in the attendance ef members at divisions. In the first session of the last Parliament there were 80 divisions, the average of members to each division was 240; in the second ses* sion there were 164 divisions, the average was 222 and in the third and last session of that Parliament, there were 168 divisions, the average attendance being 193. In the session recently closed there were 160 divisions, the average attendance at which was 246, so that with double the number of divisions that took place in 1866,-there was a larger average attendance. Is it not a natural conclusion that the closer attention of members is a reflex of the stronger interest in po- litical affairs manifested by the constituencies P—Far• liamentary Buff-book. WITCHCRAFT IN ENGLAND. A recent trial for witchcraft—or, at least, fraudulent fortune-telling— suggests the unpleasant reflection that the belief in witches still exists to a very considerable extent in England. We do not, it is true, hear of it much in the busy towns; because there is not so much gossiping rumour in them as in country places, and because the people, with all their shortcomings, are a little less ignorant. Nevertheless, the ignorance still displayed in the nineteenth century may well occasion surprise, and suggest inquiries concerning that said school- master who is declared to be abroad." In London, the credulity is chiefly among servant girls, who give their sixpences to fortune-tellers for informatim on certain important questions about" dark men," fair men," and the like. The line of division between fortune-telling and witchcraft being a very slight one, we need not be suprised that the credulous often step over this boundary, and commit themselves to the most gross and absurd impositions.dll the Year Hound. ARCADIA.—I remember, in the days of my innocence, being a good deal impressed by a sentence in Albert Smith's lecture upon Mont Blanc, wherein he spoke of the wear and tear and consequent exhaustion of the life of a literary man in London, to which it seemed that the ascent of Mont Blanc formed a necessary re- lief. At that period I rather believed in literary men in London. I supposed them to be a strange excitable race, talking with unutterable smartness in club smoking-rooms, plunged at one moment into a Grub- street garret, and at another the idols of the gilded drawing-rooms of a luxurious aristocracy. I have since made the acquaintance of some of them, and must confess to a certain disappointment; not, of course, that their conversation is not always overflowing with pointed epigrams, but that somehow their external life is apt to be remarkably humdrum. They fre- quently dress like other people, pay their bills quarterly marry andJive in decent houses, and turn out their work as mechanically and regularly as clerks in a rail- way station.—Corn hill Magazine. OXFORD SLANG.-To many readers, however, the following specimens, taken at random from the slang which is most in vogue at Oxford at present, may be sufficiently new to be interesting. A man is said to be in the swim" when any piece of good fortune has happened, or seems likely to happen, to him. To have rowed one's college-boat to the head of the river-to have received a legacy-to have made a good book on the Derby—are any of them sufficient to have put one "in the swim." The metaphor is piscatorial, swim" being the term applied by Thames fishermen to those sections of the river which are especially frequented by fish. The angler who casts his bait into these may depend upon sport, whereas his neighbour at a little distance may not have a nibble, being out of the swim." No more cruel fate can happen to an undergraduate than to be "out of it." This is a phrase of very general application. A man who is unwell, unhappy, in debt, or in any other respect un- comfortable, considers himself, generally, as out of it." It never occurs to him to say what he is out of." If this expression could be proved to have been derived from the one which we noticed first, then out of it" would only mean out of the swim." But this is not likely. Probably the phrase belongs pri- marily to cricketers, who alternately have an innings and are" out." -Macmillan's Magazine. THE CAUSES OF REARING."—Take, as one disease among many thus produced— that which has caused many a good horse to sink from the barouche to the four-wheeled cab-" roaring." It is brought about in hundreds of cases by,the bearing-rein. In our en- deavour," says Col. Fitzwygram, putting the case much more mildly than did Mr. Mayhew in his Illustrated Horse Doctor,' "to give an arched appearance to the neck, we sometimes in horses not naturally so formed, produce distortion of the larynx, and, consequently, obstruction to the free ingress of the air. Horses in which the branches of the lower jaws are not set suffi- ciently wide to allow of the head being freely and easily bent, often make a roaring noise if the head is reined-in when they are ridden and a continuance of this forced position may induce thickening of the membrane, and ultimately roaring." Not only may, but does, in innumerable cases. Look at the natural position of a horse's head and neck in drawing a weight, as you may see it any day in a cab-horse, when ita driver is too wise to use a bearing rein; com- pare it with the forced curve of a high-nepping car- riage horse's throat, and see what discomfort the latter must suffer. Try to run with your chin forced down on your chest and your throat bent, and yen will no more admire the result of the bearing-rein than you admire the Chinese foot as compared with the straight toes of the Venus de' Medici. — Col. JFitswygriun'» Morses and Stables. BYRON AND His WIFE IN 1816. Are not Lord Byron's leave-taking verses beautiful ? I believe I indulged myself with abusing him to you, but ever since those verses I have felt recent relentings towards the luckless authors. Partly, I believe this effect may be owing to some particles of contrariness in my dispo- sition, which have been a good deal excited by the delicate morality of his admirers in this neighbourhood, who excuse themselves to themselves for their ci-devant admiration by a double portion of rancour towards his lordship and pity towards his wife. Poor Lady Byron!" "Unfortunate victim!" Hapless sufferer I' and so forth, are her styles and titles at present. Now without at all attempting to vindicate him or excuse her, I cannot help thinking this unmense quantity of sympathy rather more than the case requires. Why did she marry him P for, to do the man justice, he was no hypocrite; his vices were public enough. Why did she marry him but to partake his celebrity and bask in the sunshine of his fame ? And by what de- vice of conjugal flattery could that object have been attained so fully as at present. She has now the com- fort of being" interesting" in the eyes of all men, and exemplary" in the mouths of all women; she has, moreover-and even I, spinster as I am, can feel that this must be a solid consolation-she has, moreover, the delight of hating her husband, to the admiration and edification of the whole world.-Life of Miss Mitford. BRUIN'S COUP DN GRACB.-It was evident that my appearance was not intimidating, for my adversary neither swerved to right nor left, and his wicked eyes blazed forth flashes of malignant hate. Eight or ten yards more the distance was diminished, when whether from fear, certain that my last moments had arrived, or knowledge of animals' habits, I gave a shout-a feeble one, of no distinct note, I believe but the result was fortunate, for the foe halted, and really seemed uncomfortable, occasionally glancing around, as if he believed retreat, if possible, would be advisible; but second thoughtsjare not always best. The irresolution was fatal, and the bear found it so ultimately, for he again advanced towards me. When, scarcely eight yards divided us, a second shout again brought him to a halt, as if he sat up displaying his teeth, symptoms that too truly said, I will teach you a lesson "—I let him have the contents of the right barrel, aimed for the nose, well knowing the shortness of range would throw the projectiles up. And so it did. At so short a distance the concussion was irresistible; both. eyes were destroyed, the forehead up to the apex of the crown was fearfully cut up, and the poor bear rolled over, clawing the injured parts in life's last agony. Without hesitation I delivered the coup dc grace by discharging the second barrel ut the butt of Bruin'a ear, thus surely putting a finishing touch to his earthly- career. "This bear weighed about two hnndred and twenty pounds, and was, in the vicinity where kiliy deemed a veryltl.1ge one.

A DENTIST in one of our large cities advertises that, he inserts teeth cheaper than anybody else. He might find a bull-dog that would do it still cheaper. RELIGION AND HOME LIFE IN FRANCE.—Re- ligion strengthens and developes the home ties of France. Not only does it fortify and encourage, not only does it sanctify and hallow, but, furthermore,! it decorates duties, adorns labours, and throws pleasure over pains. It does not show itself in chilly ceremonies in French houses; there are no conven- tional formalities about it; there are no cold house prayers (excepting in infinitely rare cases), no gloomy Bible-readings, no dismal psalm-singings, no affecta- tions of austere piety before the servants, no sanctimo- niousness, no cant. But great quantities of women (and some men) go each day to Mass-often in the earliest morning-and tens of thousands of them never pass before the always-open churches without going into them for two minutes to say a whispered prayer, and to reap the privilege of entering the immediate pre- sence of God; and all of them habituate their children to the same soft touching customs, and to the exalting sensations which these customs arouse. And all this is done so naturally and so simply, so cordially and so heartily, thet there is no oppression and no ennui about it; with these women religion is neither a show nor a mask. Neither is it so "with such of the men as "practice;" for the reason that as it is easy and usual for a man to have no religion at all, no purpose can be served, and no advantage gained, by merely pretending to have it. It is, then, in its power of gilding indoor ob- ligations, of creating new forms of lmkings in fami- lies, of illuminating and inspiring the fireside, that religion produces its realest. sweetest, and most evi- dent effects in French homes. It is essentially, in this as in its other social aspects, a brightener rather than an improver, a cheering friend rather than a teaching master, an allurement rather than a behest. But there is one exception-the one exception which was reserved when we began just now to talk of the action of religion on home life. There is one actual form of French religious sen-" timent in which bitterness, violence, and un- charitable hate replace the delighting exaltations of mere simple, joyoua piety, in which human passions drive out spiritual enthusiasms, in which politics sup- press Christian generosity. That form is Ultramon- tanism. Just as it has been easy to describe, in large round lines, the main external characters of the tender loving faith of the ordinary woman of France, so is it difficult, if not indeed impossible, to select words which would accurately convey a sense of the fierce con- tempts, the wrathful enmities, the unpardoning ab- borrenees, which animate a large proportion of these otker women who, by birth, by position, or by social affection, belong, or pretend to belong, to the Ultra- montane group. The men of this set are violent enough in their bitter hostility to all who do not like them but the women are immeasurably more ex- cited and destructive. Families are at this moment being broken up, ancient friendships are being crushed out, new hates are supplanting old affections, all this because a certain number of French gentle- men and ladies have adopted a particular form of politico-religious opinion, and will permit nobody who has the honour of approaching them to express in their presence, or even to silently entertain, any senti- ments which differ from their own. It must, how- ever, be added at once, that the particular ferocity of tone and attitude which is at this moment so pain- fully prominent in Ultramontane drawing rooms, is, in great part at least, a product of the special agitation which has been at work since the 16th of May. It is an exceptional, not a normal state. The Ultramontanes form always a band apart; they are always unquiet, irritable, and impetuous; but they are not, habitually, so strangely raging as they are just now. Under the best of circumstances the ladies of the party do not generally present to the spectator the pleasant pictures of religious manner which many other women offer but it is just to them to recognise that their actual exasperation is altogether unprece- dented, and that, for that reason, it may perhaps be only temporary.—Blackwood's Magazine. I