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0......-THE LAST PLAGUE.
0. THE LAST PLAGUE. Within the painted palace of the King, < Secure and free for every royal whim, With doors safe kept by mighty cherubim, Hath stolen, unseen, a gray and shuddering thing; Nought; in his hands did that fell phantom bring, Nought visible took, but snatched with gestures dim The first-born's soul, yet scathed not any limb On Heaven's Nile-pook that soul is wandering. As if he saw not, Pharaoh's eyes gaze on, In stony numbness. Lies upon his knees The pallid corpse, now cold enough to freeze The mother's cheek and heart. With forehead prone In fruitless prayer the slaves themselves abase; No gifts to God bring life to the dead face. — University Magazine.
BEATRICE CHESTER; OR, WOMAN'S…
BEATRICE CHESTER; OR, WOMAN'S FORESIGHT. ) CHAPTER LIII. A DISCOVERY. NEXT morning Miss Chester received a letter from Mr. Wilson to say that Major Ellis had landed, that he had seen him, and that he would come down to Blankshire on the day she received the letter. I have not told him much," he said, I have left that for you to do. I shall myself follow by a later train. I have other and more important matters connected with your business to attend to. I was not able even to go to Southamp- ton, but sent an agent." She was sitting in her drawing-room when she read the letter, waiting for a visit from Philip. But he came not. Hour after hour passed away, and she saw him not. Neither did he come to Shirecross Hollow, where Alice was sitting on the stump of a tree waiting for him. Poor Beatrice! poor Alice! But take heart, your trials are nearly ended now. Sir Went worth will be here soon," thought Beatrice, and H6aven knows I have no wish to see him gallop BO confidently across the lawn. Mercy forgive me I am afraid my indifference to him is growing rapidly into a very formidable dislike." And as she walked away from the window thinking thus, her ears caught the sound of horse's heofs tearing up the road leading to the house, and her heart stood still, and her lips turned white, as she exclaimed Here he is!" And when the drawing-room door opened she turned her back, that she might not see the elated countenance of Sir Wentworth Coventry beaming in upon her. It was only the servant, with a card upon a salver. The gentleman particularly wishes to see you, miss." Major Ellis!" she exclaimed, and a gleam of the old brilliant light arose in her eyes, and a very shadow of the old colour to her cheek. "Show him up immediately." And when the tall, grizzled old soldier appeared at the door, she went forward with a quick, impulsive etep, and a warm welcome on her lips. He bowed over the hand extended to him, and she felt it tremble in hers, and saw instantly the deep agitation which prevented his quivering lips from making any reply. She ceuld not fail to perceive that the man was deeply, undisguisedly agitated, and that n looking at her his emotion only appeared to become more unconquerable. Take a seat, Major Ellis; you are fatigued, doubt- leas. Will you sit down ?" He did so, but rose again instantly, and seized her hand. Miss Chester, my dear young lady, I am a fool. I meant to be so calm, but the sight of your face has unnerved me. I thought I could deceive you without breaking down; but I can't. If you had been a fashionable, cold young lady, I could have tried, at least." "Dear sir, what necessity have you for attempting to deceive me ? I know that you are a dear friend of some one in whom Here she blushed vividly, and then bit her lip angrily at her inability to prevent herself doing so. I mean- I know—I know whom you mean. 1 have heard —I know that you are to be the wife of Sir Wentworth Coventry." And here he looked more wretched and perplexed than ever. Miss Chester's bright colour faded as she bowed a rather stiff assent. You were expecting him here this afternoon ?" Another bow-no reply. Major Ellis sat down on the nearest seat, covered his face with his hands, and groaned.! "Miss Chester, you look like a brave weman; bear it calmly-all will be well," he said. "Something has happened to Sir Wentworth Coventry ?" An accident. Will you—can you strive tobe calm, and hear me ?" I am perfectly calm, Major Ellis. Will you be kind enough to shorten this suspense, and tell me what has really happened?" And seeing how self-possessed wie was, ana bow I strong find brave she looked, standingthere before him, he said, in a more equal voice and manner- Sir Wentworth has met with a very severe aoc:dent, I am most grieved to say He could get no farther. She interrupted him m a sharp, raised voiee- You mean he is dead!" Scarce any hope of life, but not dead-no, no, not She only stared steadily before her, with great, gloomy for the unspoken words upon her lips were these: Better, by far, for all if he had been. And he (the Major) could not help thinking she was very strong-minded, considering the mournful news he had brought her, and did not estimate her warmth of heart very highly. "And how did this happen ?" j He has been shot down in a wood on Lord Lovett s ro -Chestnut Spinney, they call it. I found nim.' The fancy took me to walk on foot through it, and send the carriage round, and I found him in the footpath, senseless, and only just breathing. The sur- geon says his wound is four-and-twenty hours old, and that he will die of exhaustion. The poor fellow seems to have bad the sense to try and bind it up, but not the strength to make his way out of the wood and procure assistance. I carried him in my arms to the nearest inn I could find, and then hurried away here to save you the shock of hearing the sad news too roughly told." Beatrice heard him quietly to the end; then she oaid- I think, Major Ellis, there mus-t be some slight mistake here. See, I had this note from Sir Wentworth himself this morning at twelve o'clock, saying he would come and bid me good-bye this evening at six, as he intended leaving by the mail train from Coventry to- night. Here is the note, dated from Coventry Towers, and signed with his name." And she took it from her work-basket, and gave it into his hand. Major Ellis looked as if be thought she was mad, but he nevertheless took the letter, and glanced his eye over it. Again, then, he read every word atten- tively. This done, he gravely folded it up, and put it back into her hand. My dear Miss Chester, this note is not in my friend Sir Wentworth Coventry's handwriting. Does he employ a secretary 1" Oh, dear, no! But, indeed, I can assure you that is the baronet's hand writing. I—I expect him every minute. He will be here. You will see him." And she looked so wild and confused that at last Major Ellis began to think the beautiful woman before him really had a heart. "There is some mistake here," be said. With my own eyes I saw Coventry a short time ago, perfectly insensible, shot through the side, and lying in a pool of his own blood in a thick grove of trees. How, then, could he have written that note ? how can he be coming here this evening ?" At this instant there was the gallop of horses and the rapid sound of wheels on the carriage walk without. Here be is!" exclaimed Beatrice, with ashy lips, You will see him for yourself. Oh, who is it that has been murdered ?" And, for the first time, she sank into a seat, breath- less, white, and trembling all over. There was the quick patter of feet outside, the banging of doors, the rustle of a woman's garments, and then the door burst open, and, like an answer to her whispered prayer, came the heart-broken cry from the lips of Alice Gordon- Oh, Beat.rice! Philip! Philip!" And then the girl sank down fainting at her feet. Before Beatrice laid a hand upon ber, she turned round like some marble statue to the astonished major, and Baid— Yes, it is Philip who has been shet down in that Then the scared, horror-stricken face of the boy Norton showed itself in the doorway, and he uncon- sciously echoed her very words— Yell. poor Phil has been shot by some blackguard in the Chestnut wood; and oh, Beaty, take care of poor Alice." They did their best to revive her, but without success at first-she had fainted dead away. At last the major, turning to young Gordon, inquired the cause of the lady's illness. She is my sister, sir," said the lad, half sobbing, for he thought Alice must surely be dead; and she has fp1- just heard some very bad news about some one webotri know, and like very mnch. He was my tutor, Phil Considine, and he's been shot down in the Chestnut Spinney by some thief of a poacher- Ltone dead, they say-and she came off to tell Miss Chester, and I came with her. How is she now, Beatrice ?" Better, I think; yes, better," for Alice opened her eyes on Beatrice at last, and, throwing both arms round her neck, burst out into an uncontrollable flood of tears. He is dead, Beaty—he is dead! They have abot him, and he was to meet me. Oh, I waited, waited until I was mad. Oh, Beaty, Beaty, Philip is dead!" Major Bllis looked all round the room with a gaze which was growing wilder and wilder. "Have there been two gentlemen shot?" he exclaimed, distractedly. No, no; only poor Considine," replied Norton— Philip Considine, my old tutor." "Yes, certainly; but I always thought that Phil Considine and Sir Wentworth Coventry were one and the same person." Young Gordon looked at him with blank incredulity, but deigned no reply. He simply thought the man was mad who co.Jd say such a thing, and turned away to render what comfort be could to his sister, who was still clinging round Miss Chester. A moment after this, Beatrice turned to address a few words to the Major, but be was gone. Norton," she said, can you tell me what all this is ? Will nobody enlighten me ?" I only know this much, Beaty, and I'll tell you. This afternoon, about half-past four, Alice came in from her walk, looking very white and ill. She came into the study, where I was, and I asked her what was the matter, but she would not tell me; and just that very instant my boy, Spraggs, rushed into the room as white as a ghost, and blurted out all about a murder having been committed the afternoon before up in the Chestnut Spinney, and only just discovered-a young man lying among the trees, shot through the side. The police were after one of the under-keepers, a boy, who bad been spending a good deal of money at the' Alma,' the night before, and no one knew where he gotitirom. There! Then Alice fell down in a faint, and I would not call any one, for fear papa should hear of it; and I told Spraggs to harness the grey mare in the phaeton, and I got her away as quietly as I could to you; for I knew she would be better here than anywhere else. And now I am going off to see poor Phil's body, and learn if they have taken the scamp that did it. Spraergs said it was Bill Hathaway who is suspected. Will you take care of Alice, Beatrice ?" Will you be back soon, Norton, and let us hear ?" was all her reply. I will; trust me for that?" and he darted away. And the two girls remained alone in the room, folded closely in each other's arms; the two hearts throbbing in a unison of passionate, unspoken woe. The low moans breaking at intervals from Alice's lips were the only proofs that she did not sleep. From Beatrice came no sound whatever; she held her friend tightly in her arms, and kissed her golden hair tenderly every now and then, looking with weary eyes upon the soft beams of the lamp, burning thertt so calmly and so serenely. Philiy?s love, poor Philip's love, left for me to comfort and cherish for his sake; and I will, before myself, prefer her—always!" And as this silent vow was registered in her heart, the door opened softly, and Sir Wentworth Coventry appeared on the threshold. CHAPTER LIV. THE ARREST. BEATRICE rose to greet Sir Wentworth. He tried to look pleased at the sight of the lady whom he bad promised to marry but he was evidently not a little surprised to see her sitting there, pale and sorrowful, clasping Alice Gordon round the waist, whose face lay on her friend's shoulder, more pale, if possible, and more sorrowful. Atthe sight of him, Alice half started up; then threw herself down again upon the couch, uttering a passion- ate and impatient ejaculation. Miss Gordon is not very well—will you come into another room ?" and Beatrice moved towards the door as she said these few cold words. He did not follow. All his courtesy and good-breed- ing seemed to be forgotten for the instant; for it was with positive roughness that he asked, What's the matter with her f A broken heart," was the curt reply. Beatrice, my darling Beatrice! I am very sorry to find Miss Gordon is ill; but what do you mean ? Has she heard any ill-news ? Is Lord Lovett sick ?-her brothers All quite well, I believe." And you ?—you look like death itself. Beatrice, do tell me what is the matter?" He looked so imploringly, so utterly wretched, that her tone softened a little in its metallic hardness as she replied- A very few words will suffice to do that. Major Ellis has returned from India, and Philip Considine has been shot in some wood." The last words were uttered in a tone so faint, as scarcely to be heard; but the baronet's ears were strangely sharp. In mercy's name, when ?—where ?" Beatrice made no answer; she turned away to look at Alice. He strode after, and grasped her arm. His face was deathly white, and he looked faint with terror. Beatrice, you have heard-you have believed— something. Major Ellis-has been here?" Yes; Major Ellis has been here, to tell me that he bad found his friend, Sir Wentworth Coventry, lying, shot through the side, in a wood;" and she made a vain effort to remove his hand from her arm, but that was impossible. A mistake, of course. I am alive. You did not credit such trash?" She looked up at his face for one instant-his white, quivering lips-his frighted, guilty eyes—and then her passion rose, and found a voice in the accusing words. How do I know what is true and what is false in all this tangled net of sin and deceit? How can I tell which is the impostor and swindler among you all ?— who steals the birthright—ah! and the life, too, of his brother?" There was something pitiable in his face as she spoke these words. In the moment of triumph it was hard to hear the knell of coming defeat in the voice of the woman he loved. "You mistake-you utterly mistake!" he cried. "Tell me where I can find this Major Ellis, only tell me, Beatrice, where I can find this person, to convince him of his egregious mistake—his lying assertion. Tell me where this man is to be found now, and I will con- front him." There be stands, in the doorway!" and Beatrice pointed with her finger to the slowly-opening door, on the threshold of which stood the Indian officer. Sir Wentworth Coventry staggered back a few steps, and Major Ellis advanced. His countenance wore a grave and solemn expression, and he looked towards Beatrice and Alice as though he would fain have asked them to withdraw, but dared not. Keither of the ladies moved; each stood still as though smitten by some secret dread of what was coming, and, like the poor victims of the serpent, were fascinated by the perilous horror of their situation. Certainly the Chief, Lucan, would have appreciated the admirable nerv* of his pupil, ap, after the first shock of surprise, he gathered himself together for the coming conflict, and stood there before the Major with perfect ease and tang froid. Major Ellis was the first to speak. May I ask, Miss Cheater, for the honour of an introduction to this gentleman ?" Beatrice hesitated .for one instant, and in that instant Sir Wentworth threw down his card on the table before the Major. My name and address are there, sir," he said, with great haughtiness of tone. Major Ellis curled his grey moustache, and looked at the card without taking it up. "Sir Wentworth Coventry, I perceive." The same, sir." Major Ellis merely bowed, and looked round towards the door. Two constables, and a youth dressed in gamekeeper's clothes, entered the room immediately. Miss Chester, you will excuse this, I trust. I had hoped to spare you ladies a scene of this description— but necessity knows no law. Officer, do your duty." One of the constables instantly came forward with the lad. Now, William Hathaway, is the gentleman in the room who gave you the two sovereigns, and borrowed your gun to shoot a squirrel with f Yes, that's him, a standing over there. I take my solemn oath of it. He's whiter now than he was then; but he's got the same yellow curly hair and blue eyes, and he's the same, the very same gent as took away my gun. That's him, I'll swear." And a dead silence succeeded this declaration—a solemn, awful silence, in which the two women looked with eyes of the most intense horror on the face of the young bnronet, flush- ing alternately white and red. His lips opened and shut, but no sound came from them, and no remon- strance either, when the policeman walked up and laid his hand upon his arm— Sir Wentworth Coventry, you are my prisoner, on charge of shooting Mr. Considine, in Chestnut Spinney, on the afternoon of yesterday." A murderer!" screamed Alice, impossible! Oh, Beatrice! Beatrice! he could hot be guilty of such an awful crime." But Beatrice said not a word-she only pressed tighter the hand she held, and watched the betraying countenance of Sir Wentworth with a closer, keener stare. He lifted his eyes to hers- Beatrice, can you believe this P" Silence, only silence; and he dropped them again to the floor. ° Am I really to be arrested on this absurd and unfounded charge?" It is necessary that you should, Sir Wentworth on the evidence we have at present from this lad and one other, who saw you leave the wood ten minutes after be heard the report of a gun in it, and saw the gun in your hand," was the reply of the officer. It is a case of mistaken identity. What object could I have for shooting the man ?" This last was an unfortunate slip; it provoked this retort from the soldier, sharp, brief, and indignant- The very best, as I am going to prove, with Misi Chester's aid." 1 Prove what you can, and with whose aid you ohoose, 1 I went out to shoot a squirrel, and you tell me I shot a man. Ha! ha I" and he actually laughed. It was strange, then, that you should ask this lad if he had a bullet about him to load the gun with, considering that small shot is usually sufficient to kill vermin with; and then that, before his eyes, you should ram a sovereign down the barrel for that purpose— that very sovereign which has been taken from my poor friend's side, battered and bent up, but still a sovereign of this last year's issue, and corresponding in all points with the one you gave this boy for the loan of his gun." As I said before, I shall make no defence against this absurd charge; but I suppose I may remark that this man, whoever he is, in all probability, was shot by mistake, and the sovereign I intended for the squirrel went into him instead; if it has happened so, I cannot really consider myself se culpable as you make me out. Proof you have not that/killed the man—intentionally or otherwise." We are about to do our best to obtain it, sir. This light kid glove was found close to the body," showing a crumpled, mauve-coloured glove, belonging to the right hand, and stained slightly with rust and powder and, therefore, it is presumed the person who fired the sho* must have stood, at some time, near his victim. Mr. Considine was becoming conscious when we left him, and now I think we may return and take down his deposition in proper form, and also ask if he can identify his murderer. For that purpose, you will kindly consent to accompany us back to the little inn where he lies." Certainly, but before I go, let me ask one word of you, Beatrice. Do you believe me guilty ?" She hesitated a moment, and then she said, steadily— "I do." On that evidence ?" On this." And she drew forth a left hand glove of the same colour and make as the one the policeman had shown them, and threw it down before him. You left that glove with me five minutes before you turned into the wood. I recognised its fellow to-night." He glanced at it, and his countenance fell. He said not a word, but left the room quietly with the police- men. (To be continued.)
THE EXPERIENCES OF JEMIMA…
THE EXPERIENCES OF JEMIMA JANE. OH, dear me! I am sure I would rather be a Alms- house, and I hope I shall never come to anything worse when I am old, though I am sure how anybody is to live on five shillings a week and a half hundred of coals, and fetch one's own water from the pump, let alone the pumping, which I am sure is not good for old people, who naturally suffer from corns, I never could make out, but I declare I would rather be old and in a almshouse than I would be worrited as I have been by that Mary Anne. I told her she would never come to any good for selling those bottles. Depend upon it, Mary Anne," I said to her, depend upon it, it isn't only bottles he wants, nor bones neither, nor the kitchen-stuff, which, I grant you, is fair perquisites, but it's the spoons, Mary Anne, he looks after, and the way the kitchen shutters are fastened; and if there ain't thieves some fine night breaking into the house, with black masks, and no shoes on, and blowing some of our brains out with their daggers, I am a Dutchman, and that's all about it." "Stuff and nonsense, Jemima Jane!" says Mary Anne; he's a very respectable young man, he is, and he wouldn't ge burglaring. Fm sure it's his own cart he brings round, and he's going into business some day, when he can find some nice young woman to look after the shop when he's out on his rounds. Oh, he is such a one with his nonsense, Jemima Jane; and I'm sure I'm tired of up and down stairs, and missuses are so stuck up; and he says he will begin with bones and bottles, and add old metals, and second-hand hammers and flat-irons, and locks and keys, when his premises are sufficiently extensive." Mary Anne," I says, it's awful. You think every- body's in love with yeu, you do. Fingers aint enough to count on how many you've had a-talking nonsense to you since here you have been. You're as bad as Keziah, you are, and she was always dreaming of marrying marquises, and of dark men with the ring and the house. Mark my words, Mary Anne, there's no good in Bottles. I looked him through and through, and you might have knocked me down with a feather." It'smy belief, Jemima Jane," that good-for-nothing Mary Anne went on to say, and how she could have had the face to say such a thing I don't know, to me who have known her ever since she was so high, and 1 came home with the mangling-Il.ies my belief," she says, that you are jealous, and that you would like to have Bottles for your own young man." Mary Anne," says I, for I just did get my temper a little up at that, don't snigger. A joke's a joke," 1 says, "and I am sure I was worrited enough when William Chirrup went to the bad, and why missus wouldn't let me slip out last night just to have my body tried on. and I know it will fit me as if it had been put on with a pitchfork, and not what a winsey, which cost eighteen and elevenpence threefarthings, with the skirt made up, and I shouldn't like to do the embroidery for seven breadths for what they give the poor creatures that make it, and how they do it, I don't know, and it just has worrited me, but sniggered at I won't be." And what do you mean, by calling him Bottles ?" add I thought missus would have heard her in the parlour. He's got a name the same as you have, and he's Mr. Bufkins, I'd have you to know, and not Bottles. And yeull be out for your holiday—and I never see such a seven breadths in the skirt, and I don't believe there's five and a half—when he comes to-morrow, and if I tell you when you come home that we are going to be asked in church, who'll be sniggering then, I should like to know?" I wasn't going to pass remarks with her, but work my fingers to the bone I would, and wash the small things into the bargain, though put out they always are when the missus is a real lady that knows what's due to servants, before I would have anything to do with Mr. Bottles, or Bufkins, or whatever his good-for- nothing name is. And sure enough it didn't fit me a bit, but I thought it wouldn't be noticed under my mantle, and, indeed, though I say it that shouldn't say it, I do like to go out like a ladv on my day out. But one and tenpence- halfpenny is dear for kid gloves, though green they are, and split all round the thumbs when I put them on, and wouldn't come off when I wanted to find the fourpenny-piece which I put in my glove to pay for the omnibus. I daresay Mary Anne sniggered behind my back when I went out; but I didn't care, and got into an omnibus, never minding what she might think, or Bottles either. There were a sitting next to me an elderly person, with a bundle and a basket, and a big shawl, and a nice, comfortable bonnet for a middle- aged party, that came over the ears, and kept the sun out of the eyes, and she took up a deal of room, and kept calling out to the conductor that we were full, when there was room for three at least. Oh, if you please, young woman," she says to me, can you tell me if I am right for Mile End at last ? These omnibus men do to put upon a elderly person what has left her giants at home you don't know. I want to go to Mile End, I do, and I have been in three 'buses already, and they told me it was all right, and rve been to the Angel, at Islington, and to Paddingtoa, and to the Elephant and Castle, and when I said I'd take their number, they only said,' All right, old lady; better luck next time.' And one 'bus I bi-hied to wouldn't stop nohow, and a man as was selling peri- winkles and cough lozenges says, says he, Mat's a comfortable'bus, though black it is, and the conductor's a nice man, he is, number a thousand and two, A divi- sion but he never lets the passengers get out.' Then I saw one stopping at a stables, and I went to get in; but it had got no inside, and was only a horse-dealer's break, as they call it, with nothing but a long pole for a back, like a daddy longlegs. And my good young woman," she says, "if I'm right for Mile End at last, say so; for I'm in a fanteeg, I am." Well, I poked the conductor, and a civil young man be was, with red whiskers, like a milkman. Right you are," says he; do you want to get out at the gate, old lady?" he says. Put me down," she says, at the top bell, and ring twice, the sixth house at the left band side of the fourth turning, where my cousin's sister lives, who does slop- work; is respectable, but works hard, poor thing! through her husband having a wooden leg very bad. We all got out at the gate, and I spent the day with my aunt; and as I was on my way home, didn't it just begin to rain, that's all; and gracious!" says I," I've lost my umbrella. It was alpaca, it was; and if that bothering old woman didn't take it, my name it n't Jemima Jane." My bonnet was quite spoiled, though I put my handkerchief over it; and as for my dress it was that draggled and wet that it was just like an old rag. Have you had a pleasant day ?" asked Mary Anne. I have," she pys. Mr. Bufkins came and took away the bottles, and I shouldn't wonder if what I said comes true. What a pity you left your umbrella behind! I saw it just by the back kitchen door after you went eut" Then it wasn't the old woman who was going to Mile End!" I gasped out, for I was that faint. Oh, Mary Anne, where is my umbrella ?" And find it we couldn't. It was gone, as sure as a gun; and then I saw it all. Mary Anne," says I, solemn-like, that umbrella was taken by Bottles el
[No title]
To HABDEN TOOLB.-It is said that the engravers and watchmakers of Germany harden their tools in sealing wax. The tool is heated to whiteness, and plunged into wax, withdrawn after an instant and plunged in again, the process being repeated until the steel is too cold to enter the wax. The steel is said to become, after this process, almost as hard as the dia- mond, and when touched with a little oil or turpentine the tools are excellent for engraving, and also for piercing the hardest metals.—Design and Work.
MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS. .
MISCELLANEOUS EXTRACTS. My advice is to consult the lives of other men as we would a looking-glass, and from thence fetch examples for our own imitation. THE COST OF A CHRONOMETER. In the eauterie of a Boston (U.S.) newspaper a good story is re-told. One of Mr. Astor's captains had sailed six voyages to China without a chronometer, depending on dead reckoning" and "lunars." Just before starting upon the seventh voyage he suggested to the merchant that it would be safer to have a chro- nometer. Well, get one," said be. The captain did so, and entered its cost in his account current. When Mr. Astor's eye fell upon the item he drew his pencil through it. The captain expostulated. I told you to get one," said Astor; "I didn't say I'd pay for it." The captain severed his connection with Astor then and there, went into Wall-street, engaged with other owners, and before night was in command of as fine a ship as ever floated in New York Bay. In three days he was ready for sea, and set sail. At the same time, Astor's ship, under a new captain, set sail also. They had a race for Hong-Kong, but the captain who, as be used to put it, had discharged John Jacob Astor, by keeping the men at the braces took advan- tage of every puff of wind, and won by three days. The ship was loaded in the shortest time possible, and before Astor's vessel, which had arrived mean- time, was half loaded, the first captain weighed anchor, and, with a full cargo of tea, set sail for Sandy Hook, arriyed in good time, got his ship alongside the wharf, and began hoisting out his cargo, which was sold by auction on the spot. This glutted the market, for the consumption was small in those days, and when Astor's ship came in prices had fallen. Two days later, as the captain was sauntering down Broadway, be met his former employer. How much did dat chronometer cost you ?" asked the latter. Six hundred dollars." Veil," said Astor dat vas sheap. It cost me sixty thousand." FAREL, THE REFORMER OF NEUCHATEL.— Farel crossed the lovely lake and presented himself in Neuebatel, which had lately returned under the sceptre of its former mistress, Jeanne de Hochburg, the only daughter and heiress of Philip, Count of Neuchatel, who died in 1503. She regained in her widowhood the principality of Neuchatel, which she bad lost in the lifetime of her husband, Louis d'Orleans, Duke of Longueville. No one could enter this city without having ocular demonstration that religion was the dominant interest in it-meaning thereby a great cathedral on a conspicuous site, with a full complement of canons, priests, and monks, who furnished the usual store of pomps, dramas, in- dulgences, banquetings, and scandals. In the midst of a devotion of this sort, NeucMtel was startled by a man of small stature, red beard, glittering eye, and stentorian voice, who stood up in the market-place, and announced that he had brought a religion, not from Rome, but from the Bible. The men with shaven crowns were struck dumb with astonishment. When at length they found their voices, they said, Let us beat out his brains." Duck him, duck him," cried others. They fought with such weapons as they had; their ignorance forbade their opposing doctrine with doctrine. Farel lifted up his voice above their clamour. His preaching was felt to be not an idle tale, nor a piece of incomprehensible mysticism, but words of power—the words of God. Neuchatel was carried by storm. It did not as yet formally declare for Reform; but it was soon to do so.- The History of Protestantism. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HUMAN NOSE.— The nose, roughly speaking, varies inversely as the jaws. This may be accepted as the law of noses, tbe general principle upon which the elucidation of the whole subject depends. In the very prognathous orang we may say there is no nose at all, at least in the human sense. In the gorilla, with his huge eyebrows simulating a forehead and his somewhat less project- ing muzzle, there is something like a rudiment of the human nose; a sort of simian caricature of the negro feature, as the negro's is an African caricature of the Eutopean. In the squat noses and prominent jaws of the equatorial negro we see the same type a little more advanced; there is a trifle less jaw and a trifle more nose. In the South Africans, the Malays, and some of the Indian bill tribes, we find the jaw still decreasing and the nose still elongating. And as we go on up through the ranks of humanity, we see the same features varying always in the same rough proportion, till we come to tihe small chin and fine Hellenic ideal, and finally pass beyond it in the retreating lower jaw and arched nose of the Semitic race, or the hatchet face and prominent features of the typical American. The cause of this correlation seems simple enough. It looks, apparently, like a mere case of mechanical readjustment. As the forehead grew outward with increasing brain growth, ana as the jaws retreated backward with decreasing usage, the nasal bone and cartilage were probably pushed forward, as it were, from above, and dragged downward from below. These two movements, slowly continued in the plastic de- velopment of the organ for many generations, would finally produce just such a shape as that with which we are now familiar. Of course it must not be sup' posed that there was ever any actual physical strain, such as would result from any attempt to push or to pull a negro's nose at one trial into the Aryan meuld; all that the theory demands is a slightly altered mode of growth to meet the altered circumstances during many thousands of years. The molecules which would once have naturally arranged them- selves in one order, would later be driven by slightly different attractions and pressure to arrange themselves in another order. And thus it would finally result that man, when compared with the higher apes, would possess a human nose; and that this nose, short and flat in the small-browed prog- nathous negroes, would become relatively large and Srominent in the straight-browed, small-mouthed, and elicate-featured Aryan. So that in the last resort the nose must be regarded as a product of two other factors, not as a thing in itself. It really depends, if our theory be correct, upon the joint action of the increased brain-cover and the decreased jaw-bone.— The New Quarterly Magazine. SALVIN I AND His AJRT.—I know of) nothing more remarkable than the difference which exists between the Salvini of the stage and the Salvini of private life; the one so imposing, impetuous and fiery; the other so gentle, urbane, and even retiring. He is a gentleman possessing the manners of the good old school—courtly and somewhat ceremonious, remind ing one of those Italian nobles of the fsixteenth century of whom we read in the novels of Giraldo Cinthio and Florentino—uomini illustri, e di civil costumt. His greeting is cordial and his conversation is delightful, full of anecdote, and marked with enthusiasm for his art. When I first became acquainted with him, I was of opinion that his interpretation of Hamlet was based only upon the translated text; but, in the course of a very long conversation on the sub- jects, I discovered that he was well acquainted (through literal translations) not only with the text, but also with the notes and comments of our leading critics. In speaking of the part in which he is altogether un- rivalled, he said: I am of opinion that Shakespeare intended Othello to be a Moor of Barbary or some other part of Northern Africa, of whom there were many in Italy during the sixteenth century. I have met several, and think I imitate their ways and manners pretty well. You are aware, however, that the historical Othello was not a black at all. He was a white man, and a Venetian General named Mora. His history resembles that of Shakespear's hero in many particulars. Giraldo Cintbio, probably for better effect, made out of the name Mora, moro, a blackamoor; and Shakespeare, unacquainted with the true story, followed this old novelist s lead; and it was well he did so, for have we not in con- sequence the moat perfect delineation of the pecu- liarities of the Moorish temperament ever conceived ?" The costume worn by Salvini in this play are copied from those depicted in certain Venetian pictures of the fifteenth century, in which several Moorish officers appear. It took Viim many years to master this r6le and he assured me he could not play it more than three times in succession with- out experiencing terrible fatigue. "It is a matter of wonder to me," he observed, that English actors can play a great character like this so many nights in succession; and, above all, that they retain self-pos- session whilst the fidgety noise of scene-shifting is going on behind them. To avoid this I have been obliged to cut "Othello" in six acts, and to make many changes in Hamlet." The intensity of feeling with which he throws himself into the part he is representing was especially evident on the occasion of his playing Saul. After the performance I was invited to go behind the scenes to speak with him, and was surprised as well as pained to find him utterly exhausted. I could not help saying, How can you exert yourself thus to please so few people ? There were scarcely 400 persons assembled to witness this sublime per- formance. He answered with honest simplicity, "They have paid their money, and are entitled to the best I can do for them; besides that, when I am on the stage, I forget the world and all that is in it, and live the character I represent." You will," said I, make a grand Lear." Tee," he replied, I think I shall be able to make something out of the old king. I have been reading tLe tragedy for some time; but it will still take me two years to study it thoroughly.— The Theatre. COLOUR IN SPAIN. —A fondness for the brightest hues is an all-prevailing passion with the people of Andalucia. The women tie up their heads in the gayest handkerchiefs, and wear upon their shoulders scarves of orange, scarlet, vermilion, emerald-green. The men are mostly in sombre brown., so far as the jacket and trowsers 'are concerned, but the latter reaching to the knee, and the lower extremities are encased in richly- worked leather gaiters, while the jacket is quite short and shows the aash, the faja, a real oriental cumber- bund, which is transmitted doubtless from the days of Moorish domination, and has generally some shade of red in its colour. Clean linen, again, well washed and of a dazzling whiteness, is very much affected by your Adalucian majo, and gives rich contrast to the other colours.- The Magazine of Art. PROBLEMS IN CHINA.—In a country where the roses have no fragrance, and the women no petti- coats, where the labourer has no Sabbath, and the magistrates no sense of honour; where the roads bear no vehicles, and the ships no keels; where old men fly kites; where the needle points to the south, and the sign of being puzxled is to scratch the antipodes of the head where the place of honour is on the left band, and the seat of intellect is in the stomach; where to take off your hat is an incolent gesture, and to wear white garments is to put yourself in mourning -we ought not to be astonished to find a literature without an alphabet, and a language without a grammar. If we add that for countless centuries the Government has been in the bands of State philoso- phers, and the vernacular dialects have been aban- doned to the labouring classes, we must not be startled to find that this Chinese language is the most intricate, cumbrous, and unwieldy vehicle of thought that ever obtained among any people. There are eighteen distinct languages in China, besides the Court dialect; and although, by a beautiful invention deserving of all imitation, the written language is so contrived as to denote by the same character, the sounds of each of the nineteen different words, all of which it equally represents, this is of no great use among the multitude who cannot read. THE WATERLOO BARRACKS.—The Waterloo Barracks, a large modern Gothic building, that will hold 1000 men, used as a barrack and armoury, and loopboled for musketry, was completed in 1849, on the site of the Grand Storehouse, burned down in 1841. The first stone was laid in 1845 by the Duke of Wel- lington, a stone statue of whom, by Milnes, stands near the spot. North-east of the White Tower is another modern castellated range of buildings, for the officers of the garrison. South-eastward are the Ordnance Office and storehouses. The area of the Tower within the walls is twelve acres and five poles, and the circuit outside the ditch is 1050 yards. The portcullis of the Bloody Towsr is one of the last com- plete relics of feudalism, being the only perfect and usable portcullis in England.—Cassell's Old and New London. OMINOUS TEXTS.—Surely some gentle angel, some messenger of the Divine Spirit, guided the beau- tiful mind of the beloved David Thomas of Bristol to select for his last text, for the sermon which he never preached, but which he had prepared for the following Sunday, that in Acts xiii. 36, For David, after he had served his own generation by the will of God, fell on sleep." And we are reminded of a yet more touching incident. A young Presbyterian minister from Jamaica, the Bev. Mr. Winto, had visited England, and was carrying back with him his young bride. The Sunday before he sailed in the ill-fatea Amazon, he preached from the text (Psa. lxvi. 12), We went through fire and through water: but Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place." All our readers will remember the burning of the Amazon, and some who were saved from the burning wreck have tes- tified that when they last saw the young minister he was kneeling on the deck with his arms round his young wife, and so through fire and through water God brought them into his wealthy place."—Sunday at Home. THE LAVERACK SETTERS. — A tendency to throw back is, of course, inevitable in every breed of animal, and it is greatly to be regretted that in his work Mr. Laverack threw no light upon the origin of his breed. In fact, in his description of the setter, he only alludes, in referring to his own strain, to black, or blue, and lemon-ticked ones. This reticence on the part ef Mr. Laverack would seem to imply that, though he did not attempt to deny the fact that there was liver blood somewhere in bis strain, he was not particularly anxious that this should be generally known, and con- sequently kept even his fidw achates, Mr. Roth- well, in the dark about it until some puppies of the colour appeared in his breeding operations, when he hastened to assure the latter gentleman that such an event was by no means impossible. It would appear, further, not only from the above letter, but from many others which passed between Messrs. Laverack and Bothwell, and which subsequently came into our hands, that the latter gentleman, who appears to have had the free use of any of Mr. Laverack's stud dogs, was in the habit of giving Mr. Laverack puppies as the latter required them; and also that the great breeder himself was kind enough to sell Miss Bothwell's whelps for her. We do not consider ourselves that there is any harm in such a thing being done; but the practice is unfortunate, inasmuch as it opens the door to ill- natured remarks on the pedigrees of dogs, and is a practical illustration of the dangers to which breeders are liable. What we particularly allude to is the chance that is run of the authenticity of pedigrees being disputed afterwards, if it could be proved that certain dogs were actually bred by Mr. Rothwell, and not by Mr. Laverack. We do not impute any decep- tion to either of these gentlemen, but it is poesible that persons who purchased pure-bred Laveracks from him- self might describe them as bred by him, when in reality Mr. Bothwell deserved the honour. Another and generally unknown fact in connection with the English setter-breeding operations of Mr. Edward Laverack is beyond a doubt; and that is, that in the year 1874 he was practically out of his own blood. Whether the fatalities to which he so pathetically refers in the correspondence were in any way accele- rated by the excess of in-breeding to which he had resorted we cannot say, but it would seem that for some years his ttock had been dying off in a manner which was surprising to the great breeder himself, and caused him to draw upon the kennel of his friend Mr. Roth- well for dogs to supply his customers.-Tke Book of the Dog. VOBACITY OF THE DRAGON FLy.-Its voracity is almost appalling. A large butterfly, when caught, is gone directly. The dragon-fly crumples up the body of its victim in its powerful jaws, and, though the wings are generally allowed to fall, a part of them will often follow the body and disappear in the dragon-flls insatiable maw. A lion cannot compare with a dragon-fly in point of voracity. Suppose that any one were to assert that a lion had eaten twenty or thirty large ducks, and four or five geese, without pausing, we should say that he was testing our credulity by relating a feat that no animal could perform. But, suppose we were to add that the lion, after being cut asunder, did not die, but ate the severed portions of his own body, we should be disposed to set down the narrator as a madman. Yet, this is just what a dragon- fly has done, flies being substituted for fowls and large garden spiders for geese. The insect, when acci- dentally struck asunder, really has been known to eat the whole of its own abdomen when presented to it, and any other dragon-By would probably act in a similar manner. This fierce and active terrestrial life is not a long one, and may be measured by weeks rather than months. It depends upon the supply of food, and when insects begin to fail in numbers as the season becomes colder, the dragon-fly can live no longer. Drawn by a fresh instinct, it again seeks the water in which it had so long lived, deposits its eggs, and dies.—Sunday Magazine. ENGLISH officials (says an American journal) know enough about etiquette, and have enough of it to practise, but the etiquette of the Flowery Kingdom" is something that even they have not studied. Sir Edward Thornton at least knows now that a Chinese magnate doesn't give his visitor his best chair. The Washington correspondent of a Buffalo paper tells how he learned it: Since the installation of Wing Fung, or Fung Ohing. or whatever is the name of the" calestial" legate to the Government of the Uniied States, the latter has erected in his parlours a sort of tricolour throne—three chairs attached—the first for his own celestial" self, the second for the next in rank, the third for Fu Ching Au Sin, his inter peter. At the appropriate time Sir Edward Thornton, the British Minister, called to present himself to the Ambassador of China. He sent in his card, and was ushered into the parlour. Sir Edward passed in, and with the habeas corpus independence of an Englishman, whose house is his castle, seated himself. By some chance he sat down in the chair of ligheet honour. Presently a blue-buttcned mandarin, steward, Ac., to the Confucian legate, looked into the room, and saw Sir Edward reclining in the seat of semi-imperial eminence. He could speak but little English, but with a howl replete with the expression of Oriental despair, he rushed towards the recognised Minister of her Majesty, the Queen of England and Empress of India. "No-eo—noee!" he shrieked. "No-ee! git—git! somewheres—anywhere elsee! Hop- hoppee! 0 o-h!" And he threw himself upon Sir Edward, dragging him from the Oriental Ambassador's chair to a seat of lesser dignity. HERALDRy.-Beraldry will teach you many things. Not the stiff little cuts in a peerage, but the treatment of coats of arms and all their adjuncts of crests, supporters, badges, mottoes, devices, liveries. Notice the way they are drawn and treated in old painted windows, wainscots and other carving, tapestry, inlaid work, woodcuts, armour, tombs, and many other relics of the days when such things had their practical use and living meaning. Also see the drawing of the various animals, birds, flowers. crosses, fabuloas creatures and many other things used for charges and devices. If your name be Talbot or Lock- hart, many quaint jd^dpes and sotelties" may be contrived from thfW e lily bearings; if it be Smith, do not disdain toirselve, good use of the hammer. If, being called Mefy noui you wish to powder your mantle with daisied only listen to people who talk about" nature," b Homely do not understand art, nor draw your flov -he particular species that grows on the lawn < t some such treatment all comes from the tomb of Marguerite of Bavaria, at Dijon. It is a true "Marguerite," and will suit your purpose admirably; and yet if you be a lover of Chaucer, you will see that it has not lost the day's eye character of all the tribe which led him to love our English flower. Again, if a lion be your crest, and you want to represent him on a screen or curtain, do not make your drawing of the kingly beast at the Zoological Gardens, where his cat-like and night- prowling aspect is probably the only one you will seize; but look for him in the church window, on the stable weathercock, if it be old enough, or in the oldest pedigree, and you will find the lion of chivalry, such as the ancestor who chose him believed him to be, full of fight, ramping and raging, armed and langued," terror to his foe and courage to his friend. In fact be is conventionalised, and will suit your work admirably, being quite easy to repre- sent he will look better in applied work of tawny velvet, with a stitch of red for his tongue and a touch of gold for his collar, if he wear one, than fifty shades of yellow and brown, and a world of pains, will make the drawing of FeW Leo.-Needlework, by Elizabeth Glaister. WONDERFUL RAILWAY RIDE.—On the 1st day if June, 1876, an expedition under the auspices of Mr. Thomas A. Scott, president of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, started from the city of New York, 1200 miles east of St. Louis, for San Francisco, and reached that city in eighty-three hours and fifty three minutes consecutive running time, the distance between the two cities being 3322 miles. The weight of the train was 126 tons. The rate of speed for the whole distance, including stops, equalled forty miles the hour. The distance being New York and Pittsburg, 444 miles, was run by one engine (without stopping) in ten hours and five minutes; that between Pittsburg and Chicago, 469 miles, in eleven hours and thirty-one minutes; that between Chicago and the Missouri River, 494 miles, in eleven hours and thirty minutes; that between Council Bluffs and Ogden (the western terminus of the Union Pacific-road), 1034 miles, in twenty-four hours and fifty minutes; that between Ogden and San Fran- cisco, 883 miles, in twenty-three hours and thirty- eight minutes. The route was across four formidable mountain ranges—the Alleghanies, at an elevation of 2250 feet above the sea; the Rocky Mountains, at an elevation of 8242 feet; the Wasatch, at an elevation of 7500 feet; and the Sierra Nevada, at an elevation of 7042 feet. Meals were regularly served in one of the cars. Another was divided into commodious sleeping apartments; so that the party travelled w;th every luxury the best public-house could supply, and reached San Francisco with no extraordinary fatigue. No more striking illustration can be given of the progress in the science of locomotion, and none of the value of the Pacific Railroad as an instrument of commerce and social intercourse, and as an arm of the Government. With the use of the telegraph, time is no longer an ele- ment in the transmission of intelligence between the Atlantic and Pacific slopes. With the railroad, a day will now accomplish, in the transmission of persons and merchandise between them, that for which, within the memory of man, a year would hardly sumce.— North American Review. ART AND MUSIC.—But art, cultivation, and a timely clear-sightedness—or elear-bearingnesø-can prop up many a failing voice. Any one who remembers how Braham sang at seventy-five will acknowledge this. A then young, but now elderly musician, once told me how he remem- bered having had to accompany the great tenor in the "Bay of Biscay" given with a fire and force almost incredible in a septuagenarian, and re- ceived with thunders of encores. My boy," said Brabam, play it half-a-tone lower." Again it was given, and again encored. "Half-a-tone lower still," said the old vocalist; they'll never find us out." Nor did they. And the applause after the third effort was loudest of all, so completely did art conceal the defects of failing nature. But suppose the singer had not been an artist, or the accompanist had only understood a little music, and been incapable of transposing the song "half-a-tone?" If music studied at all, it ought to be studied thoroughly, and from the first. Parents are apt to think that anybody can teach music to a child, and that any sort of a piano is good enough for a child to practice on. No mistake can be more fatal. A child who is fit to be taught at all should be taught by a capable musician with intel- ligence enough to make the groundwork not merely superficial, but solid; and not only solid, but interesting.- Good Words. NORTH AMERICA IN ELIZABETH'S REIGN.— The vast territory now occupied by the great Republic of the West was nothing better than a wilderness, thinly peopled by savages. Very little was known of its boundaries, its products, its capabilities, its climate, or its inhabitants. Although nearly ninety years had elapsed since the discovery of the coast of Labrador by the Cabots, and although their voyages to North America had taken place from time to time, the country itself had been butsligbtlyexaminedbeyond the shores, and scarcely anything bad been done towards the for- mation of colonies. Even so late as the year 1633, New England was by some believed to be an island. Of the more southern part of vhat is now the United States, many wild and extravagant ideas were enter- tained. It was held to be a land abounding in gold mines, in pearls, and in all those material riches which can be turned to immediate profit. The earliest of the English adventurers thought that Virginia might be to them as Mexico and Peru were to the Spaniards; but they only imagined what the Spaniards knew. Peru and Mexico were already the seats of an established Euro- pean civilisation when Raleigh conceived his project of a settlement to the north. The countrymen of Monte- zuma and Atahualpa had for many years been slaves to the countrymen of Cortes and Pizzaro. The old dynasties, the eld religions, and the old social forms, bad given place to new; and the descendants of those who had worshipped the sun in temples of barbaric splendour, now knelt before the cross of Jesus or the shrine of Mary in cathedrals such as might have been found in any Catholic city of the Old World. By 1584, the gorgeous edifices of Peruvian and Mexican monarchs were crumbling to decay, or sinking into the dim entanglement of tropical vegetation. Towns that reproduced some of the glories of Madrid and Seville bad been built and settled. The Spanish tongue was heard in many centres of Colonial life, and com- merce was established in several thriving ports. But the Indian of more northern lands knew little or nothing of the white man, and still roamed free and unmenaced through pathless forests, of which from time immemorial he had held undisturbed possession. —Cassell's History of the United States, by Edward Ollier. CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD.—Just opposite to Tom Gate, the principal entrance to Christ Church, which takes its name from the great bell, once in Oseney Abbey, which hangs above it, and beyond St. Aldate's Church, is Pembroke College, of which the buildings, though they occupy the site of several ancient halls, are generally much more recent than the foundation. The chapel in the inner Quadrangle, consecrated in 1732, is a specimen of a style and condition of things once prevalent, but now fast passing away. In the same Quadrangle stands a new and handsome hall. Within Tom Gate, on the south, is Christ Church Hall, the finest and most perfect of the buildings of Cardinal Wolsey, whose statute appears over the gateway which leads to the hall by the famous stair- case. On the east is the cathedral, more commonly treated as the College Chapel. It is the ancient church of the Priory of St. Frideswyde, shortened by the de- molition of the west end, to make room for Wolsey's Quadrangle, and variously modified in the course of ages. Still, on the whole, it is a venerable and interesting example of that transitional style of architecture which was in use at the time of its erection in the twelfth century. The monuments of Robert King, the last Abbot of Oseney and first Bishop of Oxford, a pertrait- wmdew and a tomb, and that of Samuel Wilberforce, which is the Bishop's Throne, deserve to be particularly mentioned. There is some fine old glass in the south transept, and in the north-east (Latin) chapel. To the south of the church are remains of the old monastic buildings, especially the Early English chapter-house, lately restored, with its fine Norman doorway. The rest of "the House," with the exception of the meadow front, an experiment in nineteenth century foreign Gothic, consists chiefly of the spacious but monotonous structures of the eighteenth century. — Our Own Country. MARIE ANTOINETTE, JUST BEFORE THE RE- VOLJTION OF 1792.-She was in continual dread of assassination, with her whole family. An attempt had been made to murder her in her bed; she had only time to fly in her night-dress to another room, and her bed was pierced with daggers in the rage of the disap- pointed assaisins. She was constantly hearing, even in the palace, the obscene and menacing language of the eans culottes. Her life and adventures, with the most filthy engravings, were published and spread everywhere. Neither she nor her children could take the air for a moment, for the wretches intruded into the private garden of the Tuileries, and insulted her in the grossest manner. The King ordered the gates to bo closed, but the assembly instantly declared that one- half of the garden belonged to the people, and ran a tricolor cord across it, erecting also a board, warning the people not to intrude on the royal half. But though they kept on their own side of the line, they all the more vilely insulted the Queen on the other by their crier, and she was compelled to give up the out- side of the palace altogether.—Cassell's Illustrated History of England. THE remembrances of past happiness are the wrinkles of the soul. THE best recipe for going through life in a commendable way is to feal that everybody, no matter how rich or how poor, need all the kindness they can get from others in the world. WHAT a pity that common sense, for want ol use, should have become uncommon.
LADIES' COLUMN. -
LADIES' COLUMN. DRESS AND FASHION. Le Follet says; The weather would be sufficient reason for the grande vogue of plush, velvet, and velveteen, were not these beautiful materials so attrac- tive in appearance; they certainly have never been so largely employed as at the present season. Toilettes of all kinds, from robes de cbambre, walking-dresses, grandes toilettes de visite, and dinner dresses, are made of rich velvets and the superior makes of velve- teen, and plush is used in combination with every class of woollen or silk material, and on every species of dress. Plush should never be employed as a bodice material, as it greatly increases the size of the wearer when used in this manner; for gilets or bodice trim- mings, however, the disadvantage is not so visible. The pattern plushes, with stripes, thick raised bars, plaid designs, and in small figures on a different coloured ground, are all very fashionably employed; and the new variety made to imitate sealskin and some few other furs, to great perfection, is much used in trimming mantles, walking dresses, and toilettes de visite. Brocaded satin and velours frappe form por- tions of many of the most elegant dresses of the day; they combine very elegantly with plain satin, thick silks, and the Irish poplins, so rapidly advancing in favour. Black poplin dresses, and black satin also, will be quite as fashionable this winter as the latter were last. Coulisses are as fashionable as ever, and are em- ployed in the greatest profusion on dresses and mantles. Kiltings are hy no means out of favour. They are much employed and in greater variety of arrangement e y than ever. Scarf draperies and panels, of materials differing from the skirt, maintain their place in fashion- able favour. Fringes in most elaborate styles, mixed with chenille, beads, gold or silver threads, passemen- terie tassels, satin balls, and tufts of silk are as pro- fusely employed as are the lace ruches and pliss6s. Many of the imitation laces are so perfect as to be worthy of displaying to greater advantage than in thepliases; these are, therefore, only slightly gathered in, or laid on flat. Bead embroidery is used to an immense extent, many of the frappe velvets having their designs outlined in small beads, used in large portions, as for coats, tunics, panels, &c. Gold embroidery in very fine work is greatly favoured by the leaders of fashion, and there is hardly any material or toilette to which it is not deemed suitable. Gold braid in several fine lines is also exceedingly fashionable, and many of the gold passe- menteries lately introduced are achieving a great success. Cords and tassels are very well worn. but should not be recklessly employed. The no plus ultra of fashionable elegance, in the way of ornamentation, is hand-painted materials. Mousquetairt, cuffs and large collars, muffs, bags, pockets, waistcoats, &c., are thus ornamented; velvet especially being the favourite material for the purpose. There was a most interesting stance at the Academy a few days ago (says Bliane de Marsy, writing from Paris in the Queen) when the llite of the class we call mondains twdits were present, and they were accom- panied by some charming mondaines, three of whose costumes I must describe. 1st. Laurel-green plush and Indian cashmere combined. The plush skirt was bordered with a narrow satin ruche; the cashmere tunic was draped at one side; the plush mantle, short and close fitting, was bordered with a band of cocks' featherc; the collar matched the border; the plush bat was surrounded with tiny humming birds. Plush muff with a bouquet of violets, fastened down with a green satin bow. 2nd. Dark dahlia Indian cashmere, and soft silk of the same colour, but a lighter shade. The woollen skirt was kilted in wide plaits; the silk scarf was tied at the back, and fes- tooned with gold. The casaque bad a large collar like- wise festooned with gold, as were the pockets and cuffs; the silk buttons were embroidered with gold. The plush bonnet was ornamented with a coronet of shaded dahlia chenille, and had a small gilt claw at the side. The third costume was made entirely of Carmelite cloth, trimmed in a novel fashion-with a deep band of Venetian guipure embroidered with silk on cloth, of a lighter shade than the costume. The collar was of the same guipure, and looking very stylish. This work is a copy of the Renaissance guipure, but is worked with silk instead of thread. The fashion of round-waisted bodices is on the increase, and they are made frequently with satin guimpes gathered in rows, and sewn permanently into the top of the dress. This cased or gauged satin covers both shoulders and bust, and is finished off with a plush or velvet collar. The buttons are bullet-shaped, and covered with crochet. The sash-belt, of Surah satin, is two yards and a half long, and less than two inches wide; it is tied on the left side in a long- looped bow, the ends to which are ravelled out so as to form fringe. The jersey costumes are little patronised by Frenchwomen, but several, made of the richest materials, are prepared for English and American buyers. Jerseys of claret or wine-coloured silk web- bing have skirts of velvet and satin combined, while the bead ad and embroidered jerseys are worn with bro- caded velvet and satin skirts. The jerseys of stocking- ette are worn with skirts of the new eatine, a firm, lus- trous fabric that combines well with velvet. There is also a new repped fabric called Victoria, which is used for evening dresses of a light shade. The Pilgrim suit is still worn; it is often made in dark-green cloth, piped with green velvet. The woollen cord round the waist is as thick as a rope; it is attached to the side seams, and tied on the left aide, the cord being knotted, instead of terminating as usual with tassels. A square flat bag of cloth, with a pointed velvet flap, is sus- pended from cords on the left side. The polonaise, which is merely stitched at the edge, is so long that the skirt is scarcely visible. The pelerine cape is square across the back, with a loose monk's hood. USEFUL HINTS. CAUTION TO OOOKS-SOME cooks have an idea that if when they have made some soup they allow it to get cold, and then remove all the fat that cakes on the top, that it is impossible for there to be any more fat in the soup at all. This is a great fallacy easily made manifest by allowing the soup, after the fat has been removed, to boil up again. On its getting cold a fresh cake of fat will appear if the soup was at all greasy. Soup made from pig's head will somewhat astonish a young cook on this point.—Cassell's Dictionary of Cookery. HOMINY.—Hominy porridge is the staple breakfast of the American continent. For young people, for reasonable, quiet people, for dyspeptics, for working people, for bankers and brokers, who want to keep their digestions in good order and to be able to work satisfactorily, hominy porridge, says the Sanitary Record, is the only food. Hominy is nothing else than a fine kind ef Indian corn, ground rc ughly and largely, like Scotch oatmeal, and the way to make the porridge is to soak it in cold water all night, and to boil it for half-an-hour in the morning, stirring it frequently to prevent it from burning. When boiled, each gram should be soft and separate, like well-boiled rice. It should retain its opaque whiteness, and should not be watery or semi-transparent, or else it may be known to be over-cooked. Neither should it run into ma-ses, or coagulate in lumps; all these indi- cate careless cooking. They may be easily avoided and hominy which does not come up to table with every grain soft and separate, and showing a pure, opaque, pearl-like whiteness, should be sent down again and devoted to some ether use, such as frying in slices. When served in a hot bo°»l, with a pile of not plates, it is best eaten with milk and sugar by the luxurious. To children and simple-minded people it is delicious with skim-milk and treacle. CEMENTS FOR MENDING CHINA AND GLASS.—When the article will net subsequently be exposed to mois- ture, a cement may be used of white of egg, or this may be made stronger by mixing it with finely- powdered quick-lime still better oements are, shellac dissolved in spirits of wine, and isinglass dis- solved in acetic acid. Diamond cement, which is colourless and resists moisture, is made by: Soak isinglass in water till it becomes soft, and then dissolve it in proof spirit. To this, a little gum galbanum, or ammoniac, and a little gum mastic, dissolved in as small a quantity of alcohol as possible, should be added, and the mixture may be put into a phial, and should be closed with a good sound cork. When required for use, the phial may be placed in boiling wa'er. The cement should be applied with, a feather, or a .camel-hair pencil. A little isinglass dissolved with gin may be used instead of the above, and will answer the same purpose. PEACE AND COMFORT AT HOME.-Man is strong, but his heart is not adamant. He needs a tranquil mind, and especially, if he is an intelligent man with a whole head, he needs its moral force to maintain its com- posure in the conflict of life. Home, to be a home, must be a place of peace and comfort. There his soul, day after day, renews its strength and goes fertb with added vigour to encounter the labour and troubles and perplexities of life. But if at home ho finds no rest, and constantly meets with bad temper, jealousy, and gloom, or is everlastingly assailed with complaints and censure, hope vanishes, and he sinks into despair.
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SCBNx-The top of Ben Lomond. Tourist who has the best glass in Britain," hands it to hit guide. "Just take a look through this at the steams on the loch there; you can almost count the passen- gers." Guide, who sees no prospect of a dram: "rft seen a better glass than that." Tourist, surprised: Where ? Guide: I was up wi' a gentleman last week that had it. When be was lookin' o'er at Stir- ling there he saw the post comin' doon a street an handin' a letter tae a lass that was fctan'in' at a door, an' she opened it tae read it, an' as shure as Onything he read every word that was in't tae me." Tourist, peevishly That was a good one, Donald." Guide, triumphantly But he bad anither glass—it was a stunner Tourist, curiouslv il What like was it? Guide Man, d'ye ken, it held very near a gill! Tourist, who is teetotal, collapses.