The Aberdare Times

on Our IToiibott Corospiibenf. [We deem it right to state that we do not at all times identify ourselves with our Correspondent's opinions.] Once more does the anniversary of Her Majesty's Accession to the Throne remind her subjects of the flight of Time since the opening of her reign. Queen Victoria was eighteen years of age when she began to reign, and forty and one years haa she ruled over this empire. She wall then four yean younger than her youngest child is to-day. It was about five o'clock in the morning ef the 20th of June, 1837, that the Arch- bishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chamberlain ar- rived at Kensington Palace, where the Princess Victoria was then residing, with her mother, the Dvehew of Kent, bringing with them the intelligence of the king's death. They had travelled from Windsor by road, there being then no railway com- munication, and the journey had occupied nearly three hours. The crown and the sceptre had passed from the hands of an old man of 72 into those of a young girl of 18; and the change seemed typical of that re- newed life which, as events have proved, was in store for the nation. For a long time the people had become 10 accustomed to monarchs of mature yean that they had almost begun to regard them as permanent insti- tutions in this country. More than a quarter of a century before, the jubilee of George III, had been celebrated, and he was then seventy years of age. A decade waned away before he was succeeded by George IV., at the mature age of sixty. And when "the first gentleman in Europe'' was gathered to his fathers, his brother, William IV., was 65 when he came to the Throne, and he was 72 when he died. It was therefore almost with a sigh of relief—certainly with a feeling of intense satis- faction-that the people turned towards the young Queen, who commenced her duties amid the most sincere good wishes of all classes of her subjects. It has been a reign without a parallel for the enormous strides which have marked the progress of the arts and sciences, and of those moving forces which tell of the ad- vancement of civilization. Ithonlyneceaaarytorecalthe fact that there were then but very few railways, fewer electric telegraphs, and no penny poet, to see the marvel- lous difference between new and the time when Long live the Queen was first proclaimed by the heralds In the market-placea of our great towns. The Queen, although a great-grandmother, is only sixty now-far younger than any of the Sovereigns of the House of Hanover when the time has come for them to lay aside the royal insignia; and there is no one amongst us who does net entertain the hope that her Majesty will cele- brate her Jubilee eight years hence. In looking over the political changes which have marked the reign of Qaeen Victoria, it is interesting to note that of the M8 members of the House of Com- mons who, on the 20th of June, 1837, took the oath of allegiance to the new Sovereign, nine or ten only now remain in that assembly. Of these the most conspicuous is Mr. Gladstone, who had then been a representative of the people five years, having been first returned in 1832. The right hon. gentleman has, therefore, been a member of the British Parliament for the long period of 47 years. Of the Ministers of that day, there has for a long time past not been one left in the Lower Chamber. Lord Melbourne was Premier; but the name seems to carry U8 almost as far baok into history as that of Lord Godolphin or Sir Robert Walpole. The statesman who is beat known to the present generation, and who was one of the foremost members of that ad. ministration, was Lord John RusBell, who, under his title of Earl, passed away at an advanced age a little more than twelve months ago. Lord Beaconsfield was returned to Parliament at the general election, which immediately succeeded her Majesty's accession. He was then thirty-two; he is now seventy-four. But with the one or two exceptions herein mentioned, in which the names will stand brightly on the pages of Engliah history, the House of Commons of two-and- forty years ago seem to have dissolved like the baseless fabric of a vision, leaving scarcely a wrack behind. Our fathers-where are they ? And where is the collective wisdom of that far-off time ? Gone, with all its struggles and its discords, sharing the fate of all things terrestrial; while the Sovereign then is the Sovereign now, still free from the rancorous attacks of party controversy, and with the gathered experience of mature years a living example of the axiom that the Queen can do no wrong. A few days ago the announcement of the death of a Waterloo veteran came as a reminder that the 18th of June was near at hand, and that sixty-four years have fled since that memorable Sunday in 1815, when 1 Wellington and Napoleon met for the first and the last time, and by the final everthrow of the latter peace was secured to Europe foi nearly forty years. Few must now be the survivors of that sanguinary fray, the close of which is so splendidly pourtrayed by Maclise in the Peers' Robing Room of the Houses of Parliament, where the graphic picture of the meeting of Wellington and Blucher represents the British general as grave and thoughtful, and the Prussian commander, a quarter of a century Wellington's senior, all life and animation, and only eager to be off after the retreating French army. Wellington was not an emo- tional man, but it is on record that when the moon rose that night, and sent her cold and lifeless rays down upon the hideous scenes of that gory battle-field, he wept as he rode through the reekiag carnage and heard the groans of the wounded as they awoke the echoes of the silent hours. The reflections evoked by the con. templation of the field upon which a battle has been fought and won are well interpreted by Lord Byron, in the Iinee- When all Is o'er it Is humbling to tread Upon the welt'rlng field of tke tombless dead, And see worms of the earth, fowls of the air. j Beasts of the forest, all gathering there. All regarding man as their prey- All rejoicing In his decay." There is another 18th of June, the memories of which are not recalled by Englishmen with so much satisfaction. In the summer of 1855, after the allied forces of England. France, Turkey, and Sardinia had been besieging the redoubtable fortress of Sebastopol eight months, it was resolved to make an effort to carry the place by storm; and early in the morning of the 18th ef Jane a desperate attack was made upon the Redan Mid Malakhoff batteries by the French and English. They were met by a murderous fire from the Russian batteries, and the assault, after a conflict that lasted forty-eight hours, was repulsed. The English lost 21 officers and 144 men killed; 63 office* and 1,058 men wounded. The French lost 37 oflUers and 1.544 men killed or missing. The Russians admitted the loss of 781 killed, and nearly 4,000 wounded. Great was the gloom caused in Eng. land by ithia disaster. Prince Gortschakoff, the Rus- sian commander, was naturally in high spirits, In a spirited proclamation to his soldiers he said: If The hour is approaching when the pride of the 1 enemy will be lowered, and their armies swept from j our soil like chaff blown away by the wind." The result of the war did not quite aecord with Prince Gortschakoffs predictions, Sebastopol being in the possession of the allies less than three months after. wards. Hospital Sunday in London, so far as it has hitherto gone, can scaroely be described as a success. A net sum of 225,000 for distribution does not seem an adequate result in the midst of such a vast popula- tion. The explanation is, however, clear enough. In an enormous place like this there is not that com- munity of interest which is so striking a feature of our provincial towns. The resident in Belgravia knows as little of the wants of the denizens of Bethnal Green as Leeds known of Exeter. Highgate has as little sym- pathy with Norwood as Norwich has with Liverpool. Both are nominally in London, but the geographical features of the one pIa., are totally unknown to the inhabitants of the other. Hence it is that an appeal for a general fund for the hospitals of the metro- polis is not heartily responded to. The people in either district would contribute towards the support of what they see in their midst, for they knew its worth; but the householder at Wappiog is not enthusiastic in his subscriptions towards a fund which is to be distributed at Charing Cross amd St. George's. The idea of Hospital Sunday is a good one, but It is better adapted to towns where the people know the worth of their own institutions than to a col- lection of great cities like London, where one street knows nothing of another, and oftentimes a man is not acquainted with his next-door neighbour. Temple Bar has disappeared at last. The main body of the building was removed about eighteen months ago, thus throwing open the ftttadt of the Law Courts, but the southern archway was left standing as a buttress for Messrs. Child's bank, which having now been reconstructed, no longer, requires the aid of the tottering Bar, and this obstruction to the traffic has now altogether ceased to exist. No longer will the heads of traitors be exposed upon the civic structure; no longer will it cause delay and inconvenience to impatient travellers who find themselves blocked in a crowded thoroughfare when they are hastening to catch a train; no longer will the Sovereign, on enteriag the City of London in State, knock at the gates of Temple Bar for admission thereto. The last time when this ceremony was performed was on Tuesday the 27th of February, 1872, when the Queen, amid such a demonstration of loyalty and a wealth of decoration in the densely. crowded streets as can never be forgotten by those who witnessed it, went to St. Paul's to return thanks for the recovery of the Prince of Wales from his danger- OU8 illness. The laying of the foundation stone of the new Eddy- stone lighthouse by the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Edinburgh is an occasion of national interest and importance, Smeaton's famous tower is not dispensed with because it is in the slightest degree insecure, for it IA as firmly rivetted into the roek now as it was a ientary ago but the rock itself has been undermined >y the constant action of the sea, and thus a neigh- wuring ledge of the same reef has had to be selected < a more secure basis for a new lighthouse. Singular ] s the life led by an Eddystone light keeper. He has hree months on duty in his lonely tower in mid-channel, ,nd then a month upon the land. When located in the ] ighthouse, fourteen miles out from Plymouth, and in he very midst of the sea, there is nothing but water, < ,atereverywhere" around him by day and by night, rhere he is in the fiercest storms, which sometimes in he wildness of their fury make a clean sweep over his tolitary dwelling. It must be a ourious sensation to M standing upon dry ground in the very middle of ;he waste of waters; to be immovable amid eternal notion; and while recognizing the immensity and the grandeur of the sea, to be enabled to defy the ptmost power of its might. Yet this is the lot of the light- louse keeper, as the reflection of his warning beacon is seen for miles upon the waves, and he himself is lulled to sleeD by the deep diapason of the sea.

THE GERMAN EMPEROR THE IDOL OF HIS PEOPLE. The Times of Monday gave an interesting article from their Berlin Correspondent on the German Emperor and the itrong place he holds In the affections of his subjects. We quote the following extracts therefrom :— "Thereaetmtobefew earthly honours which the German Emperor before the close of his long life is not likely to attain unto. Heaven, as if bent on recompensing him for the trials and bereavements of his early youth, has already showered on his manhood and old age its very richest blessings. A King once, he has become a Kaiser, and it has been granted him to live through the most mo- mentous period of modern times and to figure ss one of the chief actors in a great historical drama. He is connected by family ties with the most powerful of European Sovereigns; the proudest orders of Christendom sparkle on his breast; his palace is crowded with costly tokens of the love and esteem of the mighty and the great. Victory has frequently encircled his brow with the warrior's wreath, and the arts of peace acknowledge him as their most munificent patron. In his domestic life he has been richly favoured. His varied fortunes have been sympathetically shared by a Princess whose fame and virtues posterity will not willingly let die, for she has proved herself to be the model consort of such a Sovereign. The good of his people has been her highest joy she busies herself in providing shelter for the orphan, in visiting and consoling the siek, in securing prompt attention to the wounded in the field and the various charitable institutions founded by her all over Berlin will be the best epitaph that could be written on the Empress Augusta. Fortunate in the possession of such a wife, the Em- peror is no less favoured in the matter of his children. He has a son and daughter-the one allied to the eldest daughter of the Queen of England, the other to one of the proudest of princely houses in Germany he has a huge array of sportive grandchildren, nieces and nephews, and the nucleus for an army of his great grandchildren has already been formed. When all the members of the Royal and Imperial House assemble, as they do on certain special occasions like the present, the group looks Quite as for- midable in point of number as an Highland clan or an Arab tribe. All the women are fair, and the men are of a tall, stalwart, armour-bearing type, a marvellous instance of the almost unbroken trans- mission of those qualities of mind and body which centuries ago prompted the young and bold-hearted Conrad, cadet of Hohenzollern, to quit the cramped and lazy indolence of his father's keep and seek service in the wars with Kaiser Barbarossa. But, apart from all these blessings, the Emperor William has acfiieved the highest honour which can fall to the lot of any Sovereign—the deep and undivided love of his people. His throne is their hearts. Let but the venerable Monarch appear in any popular resort—an exhibi- tion, a theatre, a place of promenade—and rousing cheers will rend the air. In whatsoever town His Majesty appears the citizens instinctively resolve themselves into a guard ef honour, and when he drives from his palace to the drill-ground south of Berlin his way lies through dense lines of respectful spectators eager to catch a glimpse of the helmeted old hero. His regiment greet him with hoarse but enthusiastic hocks.' His Majesty's afternoon drive through his capital is the best possible proof of the fact that habits once learnt cannot easily be forgotten; for no sooner does the Imperial equipage come abreast than civilians of all grades, whose appearance would oertainly not otherwise suggest any particular previous acquaint- ance with the drill-sergeant, instantly square stiffly up and salute the passing head of the army with a formal precision which immediately reminds you that you are in a land of universal military service. Nor are these honours prompted by a feel- ing of decorous respect for a social superior; they are the hearty outoome of real admiration and gratitude. The Duke of Wellington in his most popular 3ays was not more familiarly known and beloved than the Emperor William. His laurelled bust, flanked by the famous paladins of his Court, is in every house; his photograph is in every album; the proprietor of the meanest village ale house in the Empire thinks it as necessary to procure and hang ap a painting of the Kaiser as to purchase a licence Eor the sale of liquor. Without the one he would not be permitted to receive customers, and without the other his customers would desert him. The oorn. flower, now the national emblem of Prussia, has sup- planted all the fair inhabitants of the garden in the affections of the people. The ladies wear it in their bonnets and embroider it on their dresses. Publishers are sure a book of poems will sell if but the cornflower is tastefully worked int < the binding. Of all the English Sovereigns King Henry V. was probably most popular, because he had subdued France and flattered the military instincts of his countrymen, and for the very same reasons the Emperor William is the idol of his people. Before all things he is a soldier. His army never goes forth to fight but he places himself at its head, and the spectacle of so old a man enduring all the toils and hardships of the tented field probably does more than anything else to inspire his helmeted legions with that courage and enduraaoe which enable them to conquer wherever they go-which nerved them in the teeth of a deadly iron hail to pour triumphantly into the redoubts of Dappel, to strew the ground with the flower of Austrian manhood at Sadowa, and to scatter to the winds the fairest chivalry of France on the ensanguined plain of Gravelotte. The Emperor is a Sovereign of the type of Saul, a very leader of his flock. His cheery Guten Morgen, meine Kinder as he rides along the line of his guards calls to .nind the enthusiasm created by Royal Harry among the English archers at Aglncourt as he walked from tent to tent and bad them good morrow with a modest smile, calling them brothers, friends, and countrymen.' Even in the palace his Majesty's habits snack of the camp, being both regular and simple. He sleeps on a bed which for hardness of bottom and lightness of covering would have even satisfied the Duke of Wellington. He smokes not, neither does he snuff, but he is fond of flowers and fresh air. "ifeAf Luft, mehr Luft" is a delicacy he is for ever in quest of. His Majesty is most temperate in the use of wine, one glass of burgundy or so [being all the stimulant a day desires; but, on the other hand, he is still gifted with an appetite for solid nutriment which certainly betokens anything but failing power. He has always been an early riser, and a cup of coffee with a biscuit, placed on his writing-desk in his favourite oorner room looking out on the Linden, is sufficient to sustain him through the working part of the day. His Majesty's midday meal is taken as if he had suddenly dismounted at a wayside inn and de- sired to snatch a morsel of nourishment before press- ing on to engage the enemy. On the ledge of a book- case bearing the inscription Kriegsgeschichte the fimperor s irugai luncD is piacea, wmcn no always ( takes alone, not even sitting down the while, but • wandering about the room opening a volume or examining the various objects of art and beauty ( stored in perplexing profusion around. And this severe simplicity of life is the secret, doubless, of his ( unimpaired constitution. At an age when physical frailties make existence a cruel burden to most men, His Majesty is still in the enjoyment of lusty health and vigorous power of work, nor does the weight of over eighty-two years perceptibly bend his tall and stalwart frame. He scorns to be thought on the wane, and the consideration which would occa- 1 sionally offer him an assisting arm or sympathize with a passing ailment is not always entirely welcome. His Majesty is never happier than when receiving the reports of his Ministers and Generals, never more con- tented than when reviewing his Guards. Every day almost of the last few weeks has seen him for several hours in the saddle, and upright in it, too, sometimes beneath a scorching sun, cantering across the parade- ground with a firmness of seat unequalled by the youngest General on his staff. But though a soldier by birth and education, the Emperor is a close ob- server of the course of politics and posterity will dis- cover, perhaps, that the brilliant galaxy of men who surround and support his throne are not altogether entitled to the honour of having initiated events which are sometimes laid to their exclusive credit.. < All these things, therefore, combine to make the allegiance and congratulations now tendered to the Emperor William on the occasion of his Golden Wed- ding a national demonstration of the heartiest and most genuine kind. There may still be grumbling and disaffected spirits here and there in his dominions who still cherish separatist hopes, or secretly foment the agitations of the Socialists but all alike, though they may rail at the Empire, adore the SMperor."

A FATAL BATHING ACCIDENT. A lamentable accident occurred at Hendaye, in the Basses Pyrdndes, on the 8th inst. Miss Probyn, sister of Sir Dighton Probyn, was bathiag at the itablissement near that town, when, being exhausted by swimming, she found herself unable to make way against the outgoing tide, the sea being rough. The strenuous efforts to rescue her made by a lady bathing with her were unfortunately fruitless. Miss Probyn was with much difficulty brought to the shore hy the gallant efforts of a bystander, who swam out in the hope of saving her, and medical assist- ance was immediately procured and the usual efforts to resuscitate life were adopted, but without success. Her remains were interred in the cemetery at Hendaye en Thursday in last week, the service being performed bv the Rev. W. Webster, of St. Jean de Luz, assisted by M. Nogaret, the French pastor of Bayonne. The ceremony was attended by Sir Dighton Probyn and two other brothers, who went over from England for the purpose. A large number of the in- habitants of the town and neighbourhood attended the funeral, and others who were present came across the frontier, thus testifying their respect for a lady whose familiarity with the Basque and Spanish lan- guages and whose kind interest in the welfare of the people had endeared her to them during frequent residences at Hendaye.-Pall Mall Gazette.

A recent number of the Chicago Inter-Ocean con- tained the official announcement of property to be sold for taxes in Cook county. It required a supplement of one hundred and eighty-eight pages to priat it. and occupied 1,818 columns of the regular edition of the paper .—Murk Ikm JStprm.

Harry Tyaka Ogle, a son of one of the few white men who were in Natal previous to Ms occupation by the British, and who at the time of its settlement rendered Important services to the Government, died at Thring's Post from typhoid fever on the night of May Z. Harry Ogle held the position of chief over a number of natives, with some of whom he was on aetive service on the border at the time of his death. He was Interred with military honours, portions of the English Burial Service being read at the grave by Captain Woelley. Many officers and Bon-cemmittloned officers attended the fuoeral. In consequence of the heat ot the day the body could not be kept above ground long enough to permit of the arrival of his tribe, and only one lnduna was present. As soon as the grave was closed another arrived, who cried bitterly at finding his chief buried and he not allowed to see him.

A correspondent of the Natal Mertury writes Report bas It that Mra. Jenkins (the QUllen of Pondoland) is about to pay a loBg visit to the old colony, and that her adopted son Josiah is going down with her to be married to a daughter of the late chief Tini Macomo. Every one respects this eld lady (Mrs. J.), and many owe a deep debt of grati- tude to her for her known hospitality and kindly offices. Her leaning toward the Pondos, with whom she has lived for over a quarter of a century, Is well known, and Is taken advantage of by some of the better tducated natives, and the result is that at times she is wofuliy deceived by their plausible statements."

A correspondent, writing from the Cape, says It is pleasing to knew that the memory of Isandlana stands some chance of a worthy perpetuation. Some suitable monument Is to be ereeted oa the spot in honeur of the Ill-fated 24th and their comrades en that fatal In Maritsburg a movement Is on foot to sseure the erection of a Premortal church, upon which It is proposed to spend from *10,000 to £ 15,000. The relatives of the late Colonels Durnford and Pulletae will give JEMO each. the friend, at Majors Chard and Bromhoad an equal amount, and very liberal subscriptions are promised In other quarters."

The Globe gives 09 following from an occasional oorre- apondent with Brlgadler-Gensral Wood', column Zululand j- There is now no doubt that Umheline I. dead and it is quite certain that this Is due to Captaia Prier, iOt.h Regiment, who was atbacbed to the Frontier Light Horse He was In command o< a patrol, and fell in with aJimaU 1^ of ■the enemy near Luneberg and utterly defeated them, Umbeline being amongst the slain. It was talned that Umbeline himself was killed, but authentic evi- dence from spies and other, has since come to the general to that effect."

INTERVIEW WITH A ZULU CHIEF. A correspondent of the Mansh"ter &uardi*n, writing from the Lower Tugela, on 30th April, says I rede out yesterday to Mr. Fynney's, the border agent, where Amaqwendu, or Mqwende, in now living at a kraal under surveillance, and interviewed the Zulu prince. He is apparently very subdued and awed by the British preparations, and congratulates himself on having come over. He last saw Cetewayo after the battle of Isandula, when all Zululand was in frantic ecetacy, supposing that that onslaught on the British had proved sufficient to establish the Zulu prowess. He states that _11- our recent successes have haa an equauy strong effect in the opposite direction, and that the whole country is dispirited and cowed and had we followed up either of the victories we might, he believes, have marched where we pleased. This, however, was out of the question on account of transport difficulties. Zulus have no conception of numbers, and the chief could not say how many men Cetewayo now had. The fighting however, is much reduoed, and he does not think there will be another big battle, notwithstanding the boast of the natives who, when retreating before our men on the Inyezane, cried out, "Youhave crossed the Amatakula, but we shall strongly oppose you at the Umthlatoosi, and you shan't get over.' Now verrons. A number of young men, JV1 qwende states, are desperate, and will fight to the last, but the ma- jority would be prepared to give in at once if the opportunity presented itself, and a number of chiefs are being watched to prevent their defec- tion. This column, he says, has done them more injury than Wood's late command, but gives as a reason for the large force which has been employed watching the latter and engaged against it at Kam- bula Hill that the country is now open and better adapted for a large force, whereas along the coast they fancy that with the aid 0 the bush they can operate with fewer numbers. Cetewayo is well informed as to our movements and reinforcements, but does not impart his information to subordinates. His spy sys- tem is not so well carried out now, especially in this di- rection. The. men are afraid to act, and even desert to Natal. He informed me that Cetewayo has issued par- ticular orders not to attack us in laager, and he states that when they have done so it was opposed to his ordess, and at the instigation of his young men. Nothing but strong guards prevent jMavoumongwana and Dahaitnanai from sensing in. The meaning of the word Mqwende is touch and go,' or a grate that of Dahalmanai a divider of waters.' Mqwende crowed over to the British without say of his effects, which he left baried near bis kraal. The Zulu prince was not above asking for marley,' or money, and your correspondent complied with his request to the extent of a gold coin."

HOSPITAL SUNDAY IN LONDON. The annual collections in the churches, and in the chapels of all denominations In the metropolis, on behalf of the hospitals and medical charities of London, were made on Sunday. To St. Paul's Cathedral the Lord Mayor went in State. When the service commenced the congre- gation was comparatively small, but as the ser- vice proceeded the seats under the dome were better filled. The sermon was preached by the Rev. Preben- dary Burrows, vicar of Edmonton, from the Acts of the Apostles, c. i., v. 10: "Who went about doing good and healing all who were possessed of the devil." The preacher said it was a great honour that the Lord required them to carry on the work which interested Him during his sojourn on earth. The work of of relieving eicknesa was the one in which the Lord specially interested himself, and a great deal of his time was sp6nt in relieving bodily weakness. The work of ad- ministering to the poor suffering people had been left as a work for them to do, and he had to make an appeal on behalf of the institutions which, in this country, did that work. He trusted that this year an impulse had been given to the cause of hospitals and good nursing by the action of the Queen, who had specially distinguished those nurses who had shown conspicuous merit in this occupation; The reverend gentleman proceeded to point out the advantages of hospitals for the poor, whert sanitary ammgemente wert perfect, the proper liet ordered by the doctor was at hand, and many lomforts were provided which could never be obtained n a poor household. At the afternoon service the Archdeacon of London was the preacher. The col- ection in the morning amounted to -968 17s. 9d,, and ihat at the afternoon to J343 149. 7d., making a total )f JE112 12s. 4d.

The sermon at the Chapel Royal, Savoy, was preached by the Rev. Henry White, Chaplain to the Queen, from the text St. John v. 2, 3, 4. The preacher said that all the miracles of the Gospel were also parables. The "Bethesda" was the House of Mercy; the Angel help in the House of Mercy was the emblem and example of the blessed ministry which men were charged to fulfil. The Angel of Mercy was charged with a message for the sinning, the desponding, and. the suffering. Sin is a tremendous error, The power of Christ to heal sin was witnessed in His proclamation of mercy to all who penitently accepted His invitation. He did not weave sour philosophies about the depravity of human nature, nor stand up as a denouncer of wandering souls; He reared a "Bethesda" wherever He went, aed bade a welcome even to repentant Magdalenes and penitent thieves. The Angel of Mercy was also the minister of consolation to the suffering. On this festival of the sorrowful it could not be for- gotten there was a realm of pain and sorrow in which thousands were dwelling-from whichjiundreds would never escape save-through the gates of death. From that world the representatives of grief and in- action and uncertainty appealed to all who were the representatives of joy and strength and hope. Chil- dren wrestling with mortality which they could not understand, which they had done nothing to deserve, which they could do nothing to alleviate young men and maidens just orossing the threshold into manhood and womanhood, stricken with some disease the fruit of inherited depravity or of inborn deformity; men and women in mid-career of life and duty and responsibility severed from work and home by some accident which might befall anyone on their way home from that chapel — these all looked for mercy and sucoour from the hearts of those whose health and strength were clear of disaster and clothed with vigour. In olden times the Lord High Almoner was a chief officer of State, in witness of the high place which compassion should hold in the governance of a kingdom. The claims of Christianity rested not only on the truth of her dogmas and the beauty of her worship, but upon the richness of her charity and mercy. So that day was fulfilled in London that eleventh commandment," as Archbishop Usher quaintly called it, "As I have loved you, that ye also love one another."

At the Metropolitan Tabernacle Mr. Spurgeon Ereached from the 11th verse of the 5th chapter of t. John—"He that made me whole, the same said unto me, Take up thy bed and walk." The preacher forcibly dwelt upon the acts of mercy which the Saviour performed at the Pool of Bethesda among the multitude of "impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water," spend- ing than the Sabbath in healing the sick and diseased. Thus the Saviour had taught us the lesson that in our hours of brightest joy-for such our Sabbath should be to ms—we should remember the sick and suffering, and in doing so we should not only follow his precept and example, but obey his com- mand, "Minister unto the sick." From the words which Jesus after healing the man addressed to him, "Sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee," it might be conceived tnat the Saviour Knew tnat me man had been afflicted from the consequences of some sin, and we learned from this that the true principles of Christianity would not have us limit our aid to the good only, but should be extended to sinners as well, healing them first from bodily ailments, and then urging upon them the duty of living reformed lives, lest worst came upon them. The sick man at the Pool of Bethesda had obeyed the com- mand given him by our Divine Master, "to take up his bed and walk," and we if we would in like manner be healed of our infirmities and received as the chil- dren of our Almighty Father, must be obedient to the commandment to give aid to the sick, the weak, and needy, of whatever class they might be, even to those whom it was needful to admonish with such words as "Sin no more." The collection, morning and evening, contributed in small sums, reached the total of £186.

At the Synagogues the collections were subscribed on Saturday. The average amount was somewhat less than last year, but it is expected to reach £1,000. At the Great Synagogue no sermon was preached (in consequence of the indisposition of the Chief Rabbi), but a collection was made amounting to £250. The Rev. A. L. Green preached at the Central Synagogue, and £ 150 was oollected. The Rev. Dr. Hermann Adler, at the Bayswator Syna- gogue, took as the subject of bis sermon the narrative of Hezekiah's illness and recovery. He cited a case' from a work of legal decisions compiled by a mediseval Rabbi. A Jew had in his will bequeathed a le acy for a holy purpose." The rabbi, as authorized ex- pounder of the Jewish law, was called in to decide the specific application of the gift, whether to syna- gogue, school, or charity. The Rabbi judged that provision for the sick was the holiest of all causes, and, in accordance with this decision, the money was handed over to the hospital, or hakdesh, literally sanctuary," as it was then termed. The amount collected was JS60, but it was anticipated that additional sums would be contributed in the course of the week.

Down to Monday evening about £4.000 bad been re- ceived at the Mansion House to the credit of the Me- tropolitan Hospital Sunday Fund.

ATTACKED BY LOCUSTS. A detachment of Russian troops, bound for General Lazareff's expedition against the Turcomans, is re- ported by the Kavkaz to have met with a curious mis- adventure near the Georgism town of Elizavetopol. At a few versts from the town the soldiers encountered the wing of an army of locusts reputed to be twenty miles in length and broad in proportion. The officer in charge did not like to turnback, repelled by mere insects, and, pushing on. soon became surrounded by the locusts. These appear to have mistaken the soldiers for trees, and swarmed by thousands around them, "crawl- .1 ig ever their bodies, lodging themselves inside their t elmets, penetrating their clothes and their knap- i scks. filling the barrels of their rifles, and striving to t orce themaelvee in the unfortunate men's ears and < loses." The commander gave the order for the < roops to push on double quick for Elizavetopol, but he road was so blocked with locusts that the soldiers < Tew frightened, and, after wavering a few minutes, a i egular stampede took place. Led by a non-com- 1 aissioned officer of keen vision who had observed a e ew huts a short distance from the road, the troops lashed across the fields, "slipping about over he crushed and greasy body of the locusts £ ,a though they had been on ice." The huta t vere soon reached, and the officers rushed ] nside, but the refuge proved to be of little ralue, as the premises were already in the pos. session of the enemy. The peasants told the corre- « pondeat of the Kavkaz. that for days they had been j )eseiged by the vermin, the insects filling the wells md tainting the water, crowding into the ovens and j ipoiling the bread, and preventing any food being j looked or stored. At intervals the villagers issued 'rom their houses and made onslaughts on the locusts, tilling them by thousands, and carting them away afterwards to the fields for manure. The soldiers were detained prisoners by the insects for forty-eight hours, and on their march to Elizavetopol in the rear )f the locust army they found every blade of grass and zreen leaf destroyed, and the peasants reduced to beggary.

THE CLAIMANT. The following reply has been sent In answer to an applica- tion for an Investigation of the Claimant s case "10, Bowning-street, Jane 14. "Sir,-Lord Beaconsfield desires me to acknowledge the receipt *f your letter of the 13th inst., asking to be informed whether he will present to the House of Lords and support a petition praying for an ia. vestigation into the Tichborne case and further, if it is the intention of the Government to order such investigation to be made. In reply, I am directed to call your attention to the fact that the Secretary of State for the Home Department has on several occasions announced in the House of Commons the intention of her Majesty's Government not to re- open the case and to inform you that, nnder these circumstances, Lord Beaconsfield must decline to pre- sent to the House of Lords the petition to which you refer.—I am, Sir, your obedient servant, "JAMES F. DALY, "Mr. F. G. Longman."

THE ARMY RESERVE. A special army circular has been issued from the War Office, giving permission for a limited number of men belonging to section B and C of the nrst-class army reserve to rejoin the colours to complete the un. expired portion of their first period of enlistment. Men of these sections who wish to complete their services may make application to the officers in whose payment they may be. Their total service in the 8rmy and army reserve must be less than nine years, and they must be unmatried. Every man on final approval will receive a free kit. When discharged from army service they will receive army deferred pay at the rate of 2d. a day from the date on which they were < riginalty transferred to the reeervef. If a man has been three years in the army reserve and serves another three years with the colours he will receiVS deferred pay for six years, equg to about ala.

THE NAVAL BATTLE OFF IQUIQUE. Intelligence from Lima to the 27th ult., via Panama, gives particulars of the recent naval battle of Iquique between the Chilian and Peruvian vessels. The Peruvian turret ship Huascar summoned the Chilian wooden vessel Esmeralda to surrender, but was answered by a broadside, whereupon the Huascar rammed the Esmeralda, which sank immediately with 150 men on board, 40 of whom were saved. Captain Thomas, of the Esmeralda, followed by a few men, jumped on board the Huascar, and fell fighting on the deck of that vessel. The lieutenant of the Huascar was also killed in the milie. Meanwhile the Peruvian iron- clad Independencia, in pursuing the Chilian wooden vessel Covadonga, ran into shallow water and struck on a reef. After the crew and part of her armament had been removed, the vessel was burned to prevent her from falling into the hands of the Chilians. The Covadonga succeeded in escaping, and the Huascar returned to Pisagua, where Peruvian reinforcements were landed.

THE LAST OF THE VANGUARD. During last week divers were engaged in making an end of the ironclad Vanguard, and the Valorous has now returned from her destructive mission. The wreck having been found by sweeping the Kish bank, divers reported that the Vanguard was lying on starboard side at an angle of forty degrees. A bag, containing 501b. of dynamite, was sunk to the lower rigging of the foremast. The result of firing this was a loud report, an earthquake-like shock, some dozens of dead fish, and small quantity of wreckage. The next descent of divers showed that no material effect had been pro- duced, and strong tides necessitated a few days' sus- pending of operations, and on Wednesday in last week divers introduced two canvas tubes, each containing 501b. of dynamite, down the hollow iron mast. The result of the explosion was two distinct reports, and a column of water 40ft. high, and the divers found that the head of the mast had been blown entirely away, the rigging disappearing into the darkness below. The next explosion was of two 501b. charges, intro- duced 12ft. down the mast, and this was completely successful. The mast having disappeared on Thurs- day, the main-mast was attacked by a 701b. dynamite charge. The result was tremendous. A piece of the mast, 40ft. long, shot upwards above the surface for two-thirdB of its length, and fell with a great splash. Only half-a-dozen stunned fish were found, the previous explosions having effectually driven all fish away. By this explosion 400ft. of electric cable were lost, and though the diver descended 100ft. he could not re- oover it. The final explosion was with 501b. of dynanite, tied round the stump of the only remaining mast, and this was successful in sweeping over the wreck to a depth of 14 fathoms. The operations were then conoluded, and the Vanguard was finally abandoned. Lieut. Durnford, under whom the whole operations have been conducted, has received warm congratulations. Not a single misfire occurred throughout the work, the success of which will enable the Admiralty to remove the wreck-ship Petrel, which ever since the disaster has been stationed on the spot, and a saving of £1,500 per annum will thus be effected.

INTERNATIONAL AGRICULTURAL EXHIBITION. The programme of arrangements in connexion with the above exhibition was issued on Saturday. The ex- hibition opens on Monday, June 30, on which day the judging of British and foreign horses, asses, mules, cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, hops, butter, cheese, hams, bacon, fresh and preserved meats, bees, hives, and honey will be held. On each successive day the cattle and horess will be paraded ia their respec- tive rings at intervals from ten till three, and on several afternoons there will be competition in bee-manipulations and displays of bee-driving. On the morning of each day butter and cheesemaking on the English, French, Danish, Swedish, Holstein and Limburg systems will be shown in practical working. The comparative museum of ancient and modern farm implements, including an assortment of Cyprian machinery, will be open for inspection every day from morning till night, and there will also be a loan col- lection from South Kensington Museum illustrating the composition of foods, and collections of the agri- cultural produce of India and several European countriex.

MR. GLADSTONE ON LITERATURE. L The annual dinner In connection with the Savage Club L took plaoe in London on Saturday evening at the Pall mall I Restaurant, Regent-street. The Earl of Dunraven, K P., a member of the club, prealded, supported by the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P., Mr. Edmond About, Mr. Theodore Martin, C.B., M. Get, doyen of the Comedte FrAneaiee, Sir I Julius Benedict, and Mr. W. P. Frith, R.A. I Mr. Gladstone (who was received with enthusiastic onAlra in .n1. tn fllA fniut An hfthftlf of ;U0W4au6J JJf'v""v ■" .t'AJ ■" v-v "Literature," In the oourBe of his address he said :— I myself require to offer some apology in speaking for literature, because it is said by an authority to which we all bow that no man can serve two masters, and I certainly have been in the unhappy condition of being compelled, at any rate, to serve two mistresses (great Laughter)—and one of these is a most imperious mistress, a mistress to whom I should be inclined almost to apply the title which you bear, were it not that I think your interpretation of the title is one so genial and so humane compared with that of the demands which the business of a politician makes upon his time. It ia very difficult and dangerous for any man who has oaat bis lot upon that stormy ocean to attempt the tran- quil devotion, the entire and concentrated application of spirit which literature in its higher sense requires. He loses the edge of his finer faculties. All the work that we have to do in a political sphere is the roughest that man can conceive, and many a one, I thiak, who might havo done tolerably-I know not whether it would be too great ambition to suppose that I am among them, but I am sure there are many among them who might have done tolerably in the field of literature had they not had their faculties demoralised by politics. (Hear, hear, and a laugh.) Mr. Alexander, the eminent oculist, told me once, when he visited my father in Edinburgh that somebody invited him to take a bat in hand and play at cricket, but he flatly refused. They asked him why, and he replied, I Becaule it would oost me £ 5,000 a year.' If he were to accustom his hand to handling the bat and driving the ball, good-bye to his operations on the eye and the fees which resulted. (Laughter.) The effect of politics on the finer department of litera- ture is very analogous to that of the cricket-bat on the oculist, Our chairman to-doy came very near to the origin of literature, which may be considered as the art of embodying thought in language. He reminded us of that great saying which has become the most popular proposition of literature,' Cogito, ergo sum—' I think, therefore I am.' I am not going to discuss that as a proposition of philosophy but the position of some among us would become very doubtful Indeed if we were obliged to show that we were capable of think- ing. (Laughter.) However that may be, there can be no doubt that the object of literature and the arts is essentially one and the same—an endeavour still to produce something by the expression of human thought, and I am very much struck by the interest which attaches to this combination in a single toast of literature and the sister arts. (Hear, hear.) It reminds me of an excellent speech of the late Charles Dickens, delivered at the Royal Academy dinner forty years ago. In returning thanks for literature on that occasion he said, I rise before this company to re- turn thanks to the professors of painting and the art of poetry, on behalf of literature, their eldest sister.' He made modestly and properly that claim which pro- bably has induced you to give to literature a very dis- tinguished place, the place of preference, which it occupies in this toast, and which it deserves, for his- torically it is the oldest art. But, gentlemen, I am a free trader. (Cheers and laughter.) I love not the spirit of monopoly, and nothing could be so painful to me as that anything like discord should rise among those four beautiful and interesting heads into which the toast is divided. It does appear to me that two of the arts which we here commemorate are entitled, perhaps, to claim, at any rate as accessories, to be contemporaneous with literature. One of these is music. As far as I know of the beginniag of litera- ture it has always been associated with the practice of seeking the aid of music for the purposes of expression —music doubtless in its simpler forms; but at the same time the melodious use of the human voice as an auxiliary to the expression of thought, and that, I suppose was the idea of Milton when he began his noble sonnet:— Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of heaven's Joy, Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Vene: Still, one point further. What little I have done in literature haa been chiefly done in connection with a very genuine and intense devotion for one who was the father of all the literature known to us. And I think many among those whom I have the honour to ad- dress, and who are cultivators of the dramatic art, may put in a claim, not dissimilar to that of music, for an origin contemporary with that of literature itself. Fer the bard who sought the assistance of music likewise sought the assistance of expressive action, and if he sought the assistance of expressive action, he was undoubtedly in essence a dramatist-not, I am afraid, entirely acoordiBg to the English idea--I do not mean the idea of English dramatists, but the idea of Englishmen in general. You know very well that, as far as Englishmen in general are concerned, when en- gaged in argument, even in invective and declamation, they make no use of their hands and arms. You would think they might as well be out off, as being really superfluous appendages. (Laughter.) I re- member reading-and it is always very desirable to read books that foreigners write about us; depend wpon it, it is the way to know OUløelves-a book wiittea about forty years ago by an Italian gentleman named Count Peehio, recounting his experiences in England; and on visiting the ehief people in London he says that he found their drawing rooms not only well furnished, but overcrowded with all kinds of nick-nacks and bijouterie easily liable to fracture. Being of a philosophic turn that gentleman began to connect in his mind cauaea and effeets, and he said, I new see the reason why the English people never gesticulate. If they did the whole of these beautiful objects-their china, their Venetian glass, all the interesting but fragile articles with which their rooms are complete-would come to grief." (Great laughter.) I am not afraid that we should depart from our respective national qualities, and it would be a great misfortune that we should do so, but with the modern and innocent tendency to cosmopolitan fashions, it may be that the English- man will begin to unglue a little, and that the idea will gradually find its way into his mind that Nature gave him arma and hands, not merely for the purpose of digging the earth or navigating the sea, but likewise for purposes in connection with the higher operations of the mind, viz., for giving effective, varied, and graceful expression to his thoughts. (Cheers.) We have lived in this country, and I think in almost every other country, in what may almost be called a new world, -so far as the condition of the author is concerned. Two hundred years ago there was no remuneration for the author. He might write for fame, but I apprehend I should be very near the mark indeed if I Baid that there was no Buch thing as earning one's bread by literature, and some who now earn bread in that way and find it rather scanty may perhaps be led to brighter hopes for the future by con- Bidering the progress already made. It In often said with a kind of wondering pity that Milton rectived only 915 for that great work Paradise Loat '—the r most considerable, if not the most perfect, of his 1 writings—but I believe that is about the first instance J on record in the history of this country of money being given by any publisher for a literary production. t Then there was the age of dependence on patrons. y The last century was the last of that age, and Dr. I Johnson, that great man, whose name will be always J on the roll of English literature as one of the most t interesting to his country, from the greatness, vigour, i and intensity of his personality, has left upon record ( what his experience was in his dealings with j patrons, Now we have entirely passed out of that 1 phase, and no man in literature now, be he small i or be he great, thinks of a patron. The one patron of « the ninateenth century is the public. It is not a perfect < patron its judgment is uncertain—much it overvalues, < much it undervalues it is ignorant of much that de- serves its notice but, notwithstanding these defects, it is, I believe, upon the whole, a truer patron, and a juster patron, &nd a more munificent patron than letters have ever had before—at any rate, in modern times,and in the modern condition of society. (Cheers.) It is pleasant to think that commerce and manufac- ture, and even law, and sometimes medicine, can offer in various degrees, but all of them very substantially, to their votaries the means of creating fortunes which they can band down honourably. to their descend- ants, and that even literature has not been shut out from that privilege. I trust it will never be spoiled, and never corrupted. I trust the virgin purity of the muse, the absolute integrity of mental labour and inquiry, which is a treasure that can never be brought into comparison with any other treasure whatever, may never be compromised, in whole or in part, by the seductions of immediate popular ap- plause. (Cheers.) With this reservation, I rejoice that men like the great Sir Walter Seott among those who were taken from us half a century ago, men like Charles Dickens whom we have lost within the last ten or fifteen years, men like Alfred Tennyson whom we still have the pleasure and honour of seeing among us, have received from the public such an acknowledgment at least of their works as, if not an adequate reward, yet is still a substantial evidence of gratitude, and is in the nature of an absolute gua. rantee of freedom and independence. (Cheers.) We cannot all expeot to live in a great literary age. There is no country in Europe, I think, at the present, which believes itself to be living in the midst of a great literary age, so far aa concerns the production of works which, on account of their form and character, will be embodied among the permanent treasures of mankind. But we live in a thinking age—an age whicb labours much, that produces much-an age that doubt ess has its dangers, but which also has its ser- vices and merits to record—an age which, if it does not reach to the highest summits, will, at all events, produce much useful labour, to be turned hereafter to account.

A POWERFUL ROAD LOCOMOTIVE. The Pall MaU Gazette says that a very satisfactory trial was made a few days ago by the officers of the French artillery establishment at Vincennes with a road locomotive, which is said to be the most powerful engine of the kind manufactured up to the present time. The engine itself weighs nearly 12 tons, and during the recent sxperiment the truck attached to it weighed 10 tons, and the load placed upon the truck 33 tons. Leaving Vincennes, the locomotive, dragging its heavy load, moved along slowly but steadily, without hitch or interruption of any kind, until it debouched from the Boulevard Mazas on to the river embankment. In an attempt to ascend thence the gradient of the Bridge of Austerlitz, the wheels began to revolve without advancing on the smooth surface of the roadway. The probability of this occurring had, however, been foreseen, and pro- vision had been made for overcoming the difficulty. The engine was detached from the truck, and, thus freed from its load, itself easily ascended the slope. Moving on about a hundred yards, It stopped: the wheels were locked with a stout chain and a strong wire-rope, one end of which was made fast to a wind- lass on the locomotive, was unwound, and attached to the truck. Steam was turned on, the windlars re- volved, and the truck with its load was thus easily hauled up the slope of the bridge. The power of the engine being thus established, the locomotive is to be immediately used to drag up on to the plateau of Chatillon the iron turrets which are designed to strengthen the fortifications there, and each piece of which weighs nearly thirty tons.

lltisrellaiuflMS |utcl%cna. HOME, FOREIGN, AND COLONIAL. THE CROWN PEINOE OF SWEDEN AND NORWAY.- Monday was the 21st anniversary of the birth of his Royal Highness Oscar Gustavus Adolphus, Duke of Wermland, Crown Prince of Sweden and Norway, now on a visit to England, who was born on June 16, 1868, and has therefore just attained his legal majority, The Crown Prince is the eldest of the four sons of Oscar II., the present King of Sweden and Norway, by bis marriage with Queen Sophia, daughter of the late Duke Wilhelm of Nassau. MABBIAGB BY TELEGRAPH.—The Milwaukee Sentinel gives an account of a recent marriage ceremony, "extending from thatcity to Owatonna, inMinaesota," where the bridegroom was detained on buisness. He was very desirous that his brother, a clergyman, should conduct the ceremonial, and as the rev. gentleman could not stay any longer at Mil waukee he attended with the bride and a party of friends at Milwaukee telegraph office, sent the essential question by telegraph to the bridegroom, who was awaiting for it in the Owatonna office, and having received the usual answer by wire and the bride's consent in person, put a ring on her finger and pronounced the two to be man and wife. A letter to the Sentinel from a lawyer points out that the statute in foroe aasumes the presence of both parties at the place of the marriage," and provides that the declarations of both shall be made in the presence of the minister. It is, therefore, suggested that this lady and gentleman should be warned that they are not yet very much married." OPPORTUNE.—Having appointed a governor for Eastern Roumelia-who, by the way, has created some consternation at Constantinople by refusing to wear the fez, or to hoist the Turkish flag-the Sultan is reported now to be looking about for a national air for this portion of his dominions. Bearing in mind the great importance attached to the question of the governor's head-gear, it seems probable that the tune selected will be a fez-toon.-Judy. Do MONKEYS SWIM.—A correspondent of Land and Water answers the inquiry, "Do monkeys swim?" the writer says, I was always under the im- pression that they did not like wetting their fur or hair, but at Sangur, Central India, when I was stationed there, I had a little mon- key that was exceedingly fond of swimming and diving. One day on taking him to the pond at the bottom of my oompound, he jumped off my shoulder and dived (lika a man) into the water, which was 3ft. or 4ft. deep; he had his chain on at the time, and when he dived in the chain caught in some grass or root at the bottom and kept the monkey down he was just able to come to the top of the water. Feeling his chain had caught, he dived down, undid the chain, and con- tinued his swim with the chain in his hand. He swam just like a man as far as I could see from the motion of his arms. Several of my brother officers came to see him swimming, of which he was very fond, swim- ming very quietly, and cunningly trying to catch the frogs that lay floating on the top of the water. CUBING BLINDNESS BY ELECTRICITY. — Reoent American papers report a case of cataract in the human eye having been cured by the application of electricity. A Dr. William B. Neftel, of New York, subjected the patient-an old lady 63 years of age, with incipient cataract—to repeated applications of electricity in the neighbourhood of the diseased eye, with the result that the cataraot has been entirely dissipated. NOT IN THE BIBLE.-A resident in Brush-street who had a horse to sell was directed to a citizen of Ninth. avenue who wanted to buy, and after a little talk the two made a trade. The Ninth-avenue man gave an old horse and 28 dols. in cash for the other, and every- thing seemed perfectly satisfactory. In a day or two, however, the Brush-street man returned and said You and I made a trade the other day ? Yes," replied the other. You are a member of the church, I understand 1" "I am." "Well, that horse you traded with me has a spavin, and you never said a word about it. What sort of trickery is this for a Christian man to engage in I The other entered the house without a word, but after a minute reappeared with the family Bible and said "Mr. Blank, here is my guide and consolation. I have read this bock through and through, and if you will take it and find where a Christian man is required to point out spavins in a horse trade, I'll buy you a better horse than you ever owned 1" The Brush-street man went home with new thoughts in his head, and he has said no more about the exchange.-Detroit Free Press. USEFUL RECIPE.—Hew to keep your silk umbrella. —Only lend your cotton one.-Judy. THE GREAT DUKE OF MAHLBOBOUQH.—Monday (16th) was the 157th anniversary of the death of John Churchill, first Duke of Marlborough, the celebrated military commander, who was born at Ashe, in Devonshire, on May 24, 1650, and died at Blenheim Palace on June 16, 1722. His fame as a military commander began at the accession of Queen Anne, who appointed him Captain-General of all her forces both in England and abroad, his first great campaign on the continent being in 1702, when he was created Duke of Marlborough. Two years afterwards, in 1704, he won the great victory of Blenheim, which has im- mortalised his name, in recompense for which he re- ceived the grant of the Royal manor of Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, and the palace of Blenheim was erected for his use and that of his posterity. Marl. borough's other principal victories were those of Ra. millies, in 1706; Oudenarde, in 1708; and Malpla- quet, in 1709. On his death the title passed to his daughter, Henrietta, as Duchess of Marlborough, at whose decease the honours and estates devolved on her nephew, the fifth Earl of Sunderland, from whom the present Duke of Marlborough is lineally de- Bcended. A pension of £ 4,000 per annum is Bettled on the bearer of this title for ever.-Daily Chronicle, STRANGE.—It is generally acknowledged as a fact that nearly all women like soldiers. Quite so; and many would like a good offer, sir.—Judy. THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL I-The old Scrip- tural story of the prodigal is not always verified in actual experience. People read the Bible and then do as they please. A young man who was anxious to see the world, ran away from home, and for three weeks enjoyed i he romances of the thing hugely. Curiously enough, however, his friends and his money gave out at the same time—a fact which is corroborated in the experience of many others.-At last he came to the conclusion, since he could not go anywhere else, to go home again. Perhaps visions of a strictly biblical re- ception crossed his mind, and he may have imagined a large party in commemoration of his arrival. His experiences must have been a little peculiar in this direction, tor when a friend met him some days after and anxiously inquired, Was your father glad to see you, John, he answered, Well, I had rather a warm reception. And did he kill the fatted calf ? No, but he came pretty near killing the prodigal instead, AN OLD CUSTOM.—The custom of rosifere, still a frequent ceremony in the su j Paris, is over 1,350 years old. The first l! France was crowned in 525 by the famous S- u —the St. S within of France—who, as at the « time, chose the most deserving maiden for pense, but further required that her family sn° q, bien highly respectable for four previous gene\^ The rostire was conducted to church by twelve u*^ ai and twelve youths, and, after receiving her U and her dowry of £ 25, was entertained at a fruB t vc quet, consisting of two tankards of clare^t, Ajf water, two halfpenny loaves, and a cheese cos n halfpence. The table was laid with a cloth, BI* EC napkins, two dishes, and two glasses, and a of the feast the linen and dishes became the p (f tc of the roaidre, who was further presented *1 ai tenni* balls, a horn whistle, and an arrow. A -tort mony fell into disuse early in the eighteenth g, but came into fashion again in 1774, probably by Gr^try's opera of La Rosiere, brought out to year.-Graphic. b, bo to A SOFT ANSWER, &C.—Coster (to Swell, accidentally knocked up against him). ".Now, ,,j)! d'yer year, who a'you a-shovin' of Swell- good man, what a preposterous question »w o< the deuce do I know ? "-Fun. U< THE ALHAMBRA,—The Ltaltad, a Madrid IX paper, reports that the Alhambra is in danger of destruction. It states that during .jjc' g, days of May the hill upon which this choicest .jjiti Moorish art stands showed signs of an app'O^oi m landslip, and since then the appearances of coUWj^J In a colossal scale have increased. The Alcazaba f VJ Ib Bplendid and extensive pile, lying at the foo* hill, is in great danger of being involved in tn trophe. A STEAM JURYMAN,- The other day, a L, commanding Thatcher Magoin to present service in the jury box was returned to the y sioner of jurors with the information that it ha^jjJ Ij served upon the wrong party (says an A* paper). The Commissioner said to the '3earerij(g'' settles it as far as you are concerned, but must come here and show cause why he should a juror." He can't," was the reply—" he's W* If he did come, he would make things hot for In Besides, you would have to send a derrick and • to to bring him. He turns the scales at 5,000 The commissioner was incredulous—worse, remarks not complimentary to the speaker's co» y with respect to sobriety. Then the Zjf explained. I am telling you faets, Mr. sioner," he said. Thatcher Magoin is a J engine, and is located at the foot of Fletcher- to I am Nicholas Morris, Stevedore. Years ago employed by a man named Thatcher jj* to named my engine, on pier 19 East river afte W When tho Direotory man came to the docK j» Jff names, he saw the name of Thatcher Magoin 01 engine, and, thinking that he was the boss, P in the book. You'll see it on page 949." & in COULEUR DE RO«E.—There is one article oD. toilet tables which is always of the same ool O] pin(k)cHshion,—Fun. „ WEATHER FORECAST.—The following cable has been received from New York at the London j* te of the New York Herald Disturbances will M b. on the British and Norwegian Coasts, affectw* j efl French Coasts, between the 21st and 23rd tended by rains, gales, and lightning. --1/ ÐI How SEA-LIONS ARE CAUGHT.—Sea-lions are in large numbers on the coast of St. Paul'o ?logo H Alaska (says the Graphic). The island, unli* fellows in the North Pacific, haa a low coast and on one particular spot the seals congreg*^ flocks. As they are very shy and cannot be »; in daylight, the hunters—some twelve in t>i gather at a neighbouring hut and wait for a & night with the wind in a particular quarter. They creep down to the beach on all-fours, surround^ prey and suddenly start up with loud yells, C(. their arms. The frightened sea-lions charge ioj^ ever direction their heads may have been turned sleeping and nothing will divert them. Those tc seawards are of course lost, but the others are st in the direction of land, where a pen has been « This pen consists of a succession of small poleejfi at wide intervals over a circle in the ground, flo*^ r strips of white calico deck the poles, and light are lightly stretched from one to the other. CIi foolish lions make no I ffort whatever to escape, their slight prison, although roaring violently' « they are watched by a few men until their nOp have been increased to a drove of 300 or 400. A CAPE-ACITY FOR ENJOYMENT.—A Cape J" TJ E remarks that, "The Prince Imperial continOW o enjoy but indifferent health." No doubt a c°n ^» » mind is a continual feast, but a person who different health must indeed have peculiar not» pleasure.—Fun. | IN A LITTLE DIFFICULTY !—The prayer I eluded, and the congregation resumed their .t After a couple of seconds he darted a furtive his charmer, and was astonished to see her still knees. He looked closely, and saw she was t- ^wi: sfanbt J HUCtMU MOIIIUIUH III IIUIOU. UV -jjjr the eloquent power of the preacher. Deeply thizing, he watched her closely. Her emotion more violent; reaching her hand^ behind hef« would convulsively grasp her clothing, and strait were, to rend the brilliant fabric of her dress. sight was exceedingly painful to behold, but h gazed, like one entranced, with wonder and as to ment. After a minute the lady raised he* heretofore concealed in the cushion, and with her JJI made an unmistakable beckon to our friend-.jf quickly moved along the pew towards her, clined his sar as she evidently wished to say somewjy Please help me, sir," she whispered, my caught, and I can't get up." A brief examw^jjj revealed the cause of the difficulty the fair girJ fashionable high-heeled boots; kneeling down jrfj knees, these heels of course stuck out at right a»^tf and in this position the highest hoop of her nevLj| caught over them, and thus rendered it impossi^ p raise herself or straiten her limbs. The nao*" struggled the tighter was she bound; so she strained to call for help. This was immedift*# not scientifically, rendered and when the ne*tp»j A was made, she merely inclined herself upon tfi of the front pew—thinking, no doubt, that not in praying costume.—Court Journal. J DISASTERS AT SEA.—There were 15 Britisk^Mj foreign wrecks reported during the past week, V a total of 735 for the present year, or an increase as compared with the corresponding period 0 j year. The approximate value of property lost £ 260,000, including British, £ 230,000. THE AMERICAN FOOD SUPPLY.—The quant^fyj freBh meat landed at Liverpool last week United States and Canada was about the has arrived this season, being only 1,735 quan^jA beef, 700 carcases of mutton, and 150 dead pigs. compared with the previous week, Bhows a over 4,000 quarters of beef, with a oorresPp falling off in the quantity of mutton. Live also landed in reduced numbers, while the arri*jj« sheep were sonfe 2,000 head in excess of the week. The figures were 752 head of cattle and sheep tit, ? A LADY'S DANCE MOODS.—She wishes to WA» the (h)op-tative mood. She is led out by officer, in the sub-junctive mood. Mamma st* at objects, and says they must go, in the mood. She reluctantly complies in the potent put-on-shawl mood.—Judy. # CHARLES DICKENS'S HOUSE.—So long as DTE*J# works continue to be read—a term which with the duration of the English language—V will Gad's Hill Place, the house in which he y |$j associated with his name. Mr. Dickens, it pK gave £ 1,790 for the property as it originally atood^jj he afterwards practically rebuilt the house, and j* considerably to the land originally pertaining Amongst many other things he did for the to make a well, the progress with which was»(<j{^ what serious matter to him. He used to say—" quite a railway terminuB: it is so iron and -e0 JV He also made underneath the famous tunnel connected his lawn with the shrubbery, in wiaich Eiacea me suu more iuuiuuh uuaiti «(»• y Mr. Fechter. The last thing he did was to P conservatory, and it was only on the Sunday his death that he had the great satisfaction of,, this completed. He said to his daughter— Katey, now you see positively the last Gad's Hill." There used to be in the late Mr. QK, time an illuminated scroll, which Btood on the y floor landing, by way of greeting to all ran thus—" This house, Gad's HiU Place, stands summit of Shakespeare's Gad's Hill, ever „($J for its associations with Sir John Falstaff in -W fancy—' But my lads, my lads, to morrow morD' jiJ** four o'clock, early at Gad's Hill! There are PfJjLjfr going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and {<? riding to London with fat purses. I have viz you all, you have horses for yourselves. u<f A BEE DRESS.—A very simple bee dress cated by a correspondent in response to the iD<l.(Jp<; made respecting the Bee Dress recently ai0Daa^;i in "Rural Notes" (says The Graphic). He o>: a large loose bag with sleeves, made out of soØ1 t¡ICI' thin dress material and slipped over the head, V should bo oovered by a hat with a large • w expand the bag. If possible the material oftn^iK should be nearly transparent, and it should be tightly round the waist. This contrivance has P effectual for years, according to the correspo^j^ and is certainly simple enough. India-rubber should also be worn as tho bees are able to WilJ their stings from the india-rubber. SYMPATHY.—Little Girl. Mamma, dear, I doit). pity you.—Mamma. Why, dear?—Little Because Nurse says you have to go out 811 cjjor another great big dinner after all the mutton and tapioca pudding we had in the middle of tf and Nurse says you must pretend to like it Or would be very, very cross.—Judy. THE HUMAN HAT.—A full-grown man .w' hat of some sort is a lusus natures. His anco in conventional garb in a public fare without this excrescence will produce j* as much sensation as a runaway horse, *+ separable the thing is from our daily tho and actions is evident from the multitude of co^ff colloquial expressions referring to it. One P —" As mad as a hatter," has often puzzled inl If minds; but it is probable that its explanation 0t)'' found in the scientific theory with which we If madness is traceable to the malformation of cases, then it is directly traceable to the work 0 tfr makers. There is this curious anomaly abou Human Hat, that, while it is inseparable ff man, who seizes it as one of his most prec»0 heritances, pressing it closely on his head & abroad, and clinging tenaciously to it whethe* company of friends or enemies, yet its shape and and quality may be changed at pleasure. are Bome men whose vanity enables them al'» cultivate successive crops of new glossy brigb^j^ others whose vanity enables them always to a supply of very bad old ones. There are who are always cultivating new hats, and • who never change their first growth. • LffP The Human Hat is a capital index of ter, as well as an infallibly professional tjjJ Who, for instance, can mistake the Clerical IVrUWi ( Sporting Hat, the Travelling Hat, or the t*v Hat? So also in the often close assimilation female to the male head-gear in shape and e we have striking evidence of that tendency 0f rrji ii to equalise the sexes. It is idle to spea*^ supremacy of man when he is fast loosing distinction of his own head-gvar \~Ofumbtrt t

The Correspondent of the Daily News says :-The following additional details concerning the burial of the dead at Isandlana are to hand Captain Shepstone visited the camp of the Carbineers who had fallen. The body of Colonel Dornford was recognised by the mess waistcoat he had worn, and a pocketknife wish the name of the deceased on it Two rings were also taken from the corpse. These relics will be sent to his father. Durrant Scott, of the Carbineers, had his patrol jacket on. His face was like lire, all the hair being on it, and the skin, though dried up, still perfect. Colonel Durnfords body was wrapped in canvfci, and buried in a kind of water-cask. The others were covered with stones, and thetr names written in pencil on a stone close by them. Tke bodies of the R.A. and Natal mounted police were also buried, but those of the 24th Regiment were left untouched at the express deaire of Colonel Glynn and the officers, who hope some day to be able to do this tfcenaselves. Everything of value has been taken from the oamp, and some bodies removed or disturbed, so as to tender recognition Impossible.

At Westminster Abbey collections were made at sach of the three services. Canon Barry was the preacher in the morning, and Canon Farrar at the afternoon service, which was attended by the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, and an overflowing congregation. Preaching from St. Luke xii. 21, So is he that layeth ap treasure for himself, and is not rich towards God," Canon Farrar directed a forcible appeal to the con- science of the nation for an extended support to our charitable institutions. He reminded his hearers that whilst the wealth of the country had enormously in- creased during the last century, the amount devoted to charitable purposes showed no corresponding aug- mentation. The annual expenditure of London alone reached £ 200,000,000 annually, and compared with this the sum raised for the Hospital Sunday Fund seemed almost insignificant, the amount contributed last year being but jB24,600, although every religious denomination was appealed to. In the complexi- ties of modem civilisation it was impossible for the bulk of those who supported the charities of the nation to find opportunities for any personal share in the work of relief, and their efforts of kind- ness being thus practically limited to gifts, he strongly appealed to them to make the sum of their contribu- tions worthy of the wealth and intelligence of a great people, and not, as at present, indicative of indif- ference to charitable impulses.—The Rev. Stopford Brooke, Minister of Bedford Chapel, Bloomsbury, preached the sermon at the evening service, which was held in the naye of the abbey. The morning and afternoon collections together realised JB196.