Papurau Newydd Cymru
Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
15 erthygl ar y dudalen hon
PREBENDARY OR CANON?
PREBENDARY OR CANON? [FROX A correspondent.] There seems to be much uncertainty existir.g on this subject. By virtue of 3 and 4 Vic., chap 113, section 23, all bishops are empowered to confer distinctions of honour upon deserving clergymen, and it was enacted that honorary canonries should be thereby founded in every cathedral church in England in which there were not already founded any non-residentiary pre- bends, dignities, or offices; and the holders of such canonries were to be styled honorary canons, and to be entitled to stalls and to take rank in the cathedral church next after the canons. Iu twelve dioceses of the Southern Province these dignitaries, according to Crock- ford's Clerical Directory," are styled honorary canons, and in nine dioceses they are wrongly styled prebendaries, as will be hereafter shown. The Bishop of St. David's, in his chat go of 1880, used these" Jrds in describing the constitution of the then proposed Diocesac Con- ference :— It is intended that the Conference shall con- sist of the following persons, or classes of persons, viz.:—Of the clergy, first the bishop, and all members of the greater chapter (who, in accor- dance with the ancient constitution of the Church. form the council of the bishop)—these will include, together with the dean and the canons residentiary, the archdeacons and non-residentiary canons of the cathedral. In the Dioceses of St. David's and Llandaff these dignitaries are styled in Crockford" prebendaries; but in Llandaff they are uni- formly called canons by common consent and custom. In the Diocese of St. David's they are styled prebendaries, and are generally designated by that name. In the Deed of Institu- tion these persons are uniformly throughout the kingdom called prebendaries or canons," and have conferred upon them the prebend or canonry of," &c. Under these circumstances it seems desirable to ascertain which is the correct designation, that persons occupying the same position may be called and known by the same name. Prebendary may be the more honourable and ancient name, as being in existence prior to the Act above mentioned, but. for the sake of unifor- mity and facility of pronunciation, canon would, in many respects, be preferable. Prebendary is difficult for common people to pronounce, but evervbody could with ease use the word canon. Formerly, according to Phiilimore's Ecclesiastical Law (Vol. 1, page 167, A prebend is an endow- ment in land or pension in money given to a cathedral or conventual church in p-i ttbendam, that is, for the maintenance of a secular priest, or regular canon, who was a prebendary, as sup- ported by the said prebend A canonry, also, is a name of office, and a canon is the officer in liko manner as a prebendary; and a prebend is the maintenance, or stipend, both of the one or tha other." Recent Acts of Parliament have, however, wrought extensive changes in the condition and constitution of deans and chapters, and, so far as the two South Wales dioceses are specially con- cerned, there seems to be absolutely no choice as to the term which should be employed. Bv 3 and 4 Vic., chap. 113, sec. 1, it is enacted.— That from henceforth all tho members of chapter except the dean in every cathedral and collegiate church in England, and in the Cathedral Churches of St. David and. Llandaff. thall be stuled Canons,1\nd the precentor of the Cathedral Church of St. David and the warden of the C-ollegiate Church of Manchester shall be respectively styled dean. From this it will be observed that every member of the cathedral chapter ithe dean alone excepted) is, according to Act of Parliament, to be styled canon, and not prebendary. j
[No title]
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,LITKRARY, ART, AND DRAMATIC…
LITKRARY, ART, AND DRAMATIC NOTES. A run of sensational dramas has set in at the Cardiff Theatre. Last week it was the successful Brought to Justice this week the boards are occupied by Mr. J. B. Mulholland and his cele- brated Anglo-American company in the drama The Unknown," whilst succeeding weeks bring sensationalism in the form of "Man to Man" and "Alone in London. It is not to be regretted that this is the case. "n ive us good, honest melodrama the majority of playgoers exclaim, and though acknow- ledging the relief which the smart modern threo- act farces give, yet the return to the old original drama is eagorlv welcomed. The drama this week at the Cardiff Theatre, both in merit and con- structive skill, stands far ahead of the majority of dramas rf the present day. The plot is exceedingly original. It is true that the hero in the first act is triumphed over by the villains of the play, but, instead of his being placed in a precarious position from the result of alleged crime, or being disinherited and plunged into abject poverty, his mind is unhinged, and we find hia suffering from temporary aberrations through succeeding acts. A blow from a pistol stuns him, and his subsequent immersion in the river produces insanity. Tile hero loser, all reraem- brance of the past and becomes an unknown." The piece on Monday night wis enthusiastically received, and should be witnessed by every lovrr of tbn drama in Cardiff. The hero is excellently pourtrayed by Mr. J. D. Mulhlland, whilst Mr. J. 0. Stewart as Jack Salt gave a charactcr sketch rf an old seaman such an is -ldoiiied witnessed in Cardiff. Miss Nellie Grey was 3een to great advrvntagi in the d)IC of the heroine. Mr. Hugh Montgomery "-nd Mr. Walter Roberts received hearty iliss-s from the audienc-? for their impersonation of the "villains" of the piece, whilst Mr. J. L. Arthur, their confederate, came in for a ¡¡I; l'cceti .n. Mis* Marie Harcjurt as Louic, tho wife of at M ilionty, and Mr. U. S. Morland. who impersonated that part, are desu-ving of special mention. On September 18 Mrs. Langtry sails for America, where she opens with her company on October 4 at the Fifth Avenue. According to the World, an incident of much interest arose out of Mr. Irving's visit to Oxford. In his address at the University he spoke of the last days of Edmund Kean, who died without, a ten-pound note. A few days after Mr. Irving received a letter from Mr. Robert Browning, enclosing the purse-of slightly faded green silk- found in the pocket of the great, aclot- after his death, "without a sixpence therein." It was given by Charles Kean to John Forster, and by liiin to the poet, who now sends it to the actor in due succession. "How can 1 more worthily place it," gracefully writes Mr. Browning, than in you;- hands, if t hey will do me the honour to take it, along with all respect and regard? Mr. Carl Rosa left London on Thursday. July 8; for Hammerfest, in Norway, for a few weeks'rest. His persistent determination to make a home for English opera in the Metropolis seems likely to be soon crowned with success, as his last season was, I am informed, not only artistica lIy, but financi illy a success beyond his most sanguine expectations. Prior to his depariure, Mr. Rosa waS elected a mem- ber of the Council of the Royal College of Music, having the distinguished honoui of being proposed by his Royal Hitfhness the Prince of Wales, and seconded by Lord Bruce. The Royal Family seem to have taken native musical production firmly and kindly by the hand. Next Saturday evening the annual benefit of the Actors' Benevolent Fund will take place at the Lyceum Theatre, when their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales have announced their intention of being present. The piavs to b- given are "The Bells," in which Mr. Irvingplays his original part, and Raisin" the Wind." Mr. Irving will be the Jeremy Diddler, and Miss Ellen Peyuy. On the 26th instant Mr. Walter Reynolds will appear at the Grand, playing in his own drama, A Mother's Sin," for the first Lilne in Lon ion. The returns of the incomes of several (f til, Paris theatres for the year 1S35 6 have just been published. It appears that the receipts of eleven theal res have exceeded those of the precedini. year, viz:—The Grand Opera, 270 000t. Theatre FYancais, 94.000f Opera Comique, 7 3601" I) e »u, 297,000t. Vaudeville, 328,030r.; (.i Lii6, 413.0,00f.; Chateau d'Eiu, 76000 K naiss-ance, 1610001.; Foh s I)r una' iques, 141,000f.; M.-nus-PUUirs' 318 OOOF. B >utf^s du Nord, 14,000f. beiny a gross total increase of 2185.600 Kleven other theatres show a decreaso 01 receipts—viz, Les Varies6s, 122,010f.; Gyinni«e, 19000f.; Palais Royal. 311,000 Nouvemres 114,000f.; Porte St,. Martin. 350.000f.; Am'oi"u, 26000f.; Chatelet. 579.000f Ciuny. 12OJOr: Buufles Pari iens, 24.00JI.; Dej izet. 5,000i.; leiL: tnarchaise, 35.000: making a total decrease of receipts of 1.714,000f. The net increase of the vea, for the 22 theatres amounts to 47l,600f., or nearlv £ 18,864. Mr. William Winter, the New York dramatic critic, is at work on a Life of Adelaide Neilson He is also cotiect ng Po volume of essays on the acting of Miss Ellen Terry. The ninth annual gathering of the Library Association of the United Kingdom will take place on September 28. 29. and 30 The principal librarian of the British Museum will preside. The meetings are to be held in the hall of Gray's Inn. Mr. Alexander Strachan's interesting series of autograph le'ters are to be sold by Messrs. Put tiek and Si ii-ipson on the 30th of July. They include not a few examples of letter-writing by the chief men of letters of to-day; also no able "specimens by Dr Johnson, Hume, Smollett, Franklin, and others. A letter of Lord Macaulav protesting against the American proclivity of lionising has just fallen into the hands of a New York collector of auto- graphs. It was written in 1849. In it Lord Macaulay And what I hear of the form in which your countrymen show their kindness and .-steem tor men whose names are at all known deters mo from visitint: you. I need not tell vou that! mean no national reflection. Perhaps tlit peculiarity to which I allude is honourable to the American character but it must cause annovancv to sensitive and fastidious men. Brougham or O'Connell would have liked nothing better. But Cowper would have died or gone mad; Byron would have insulted his admirers, and have heen snot or tarred and feathered and, though I have stronger nerves than Cowper, and, 1 hope, a better temper than Byron's, I should suffer much pain and give much offence." During Airs. Ward Beecher's stay in England she purposes contributing a series of letters-her Impressions of the Old Home "—to the Brooklyn Magazine. M. Ferdinand Fabre is busy over his Memoirs.' They will be first printed in the Revue Po!itique et Litteraire. The Rev. Charles T Thwing is engaged on a work which he names The Family." It is a study in the history of family life dating from prehistoric times, dealing in their turn with the social life of the Greeks, the Romans, and the Jews through the first Christian centuries and the Middle Ages. An attempt will also be made to include in the work a history of the Church—Protestant and Catholic —in its influence on social order and its relations to family life, and also to deal historically and philosophically with the question of divorce and other important matters.
--I GARDENING NOTES.
GARDENING NOTES. I fBY MR. J. MUIR, Maegam.] Newport and Monmouth COUNTY Show.—All who have done anything to promote this show are to be congratulated on t.he successful result, as the exhibition on July 20 was, taken all through, the finest ever seen at Newport. Better specimen plants were, no doubt, exhibited at tha time Mr. Cordes allowed his gardener, Mr. Wat,tie, to bring down his unique speci- men plants from Brynglas, but we do not remember seeing a show more destitute of inferior plants, as the specimens throughout were remark- able for their general excellency. Mr. Cypher came in first in the principal plant classes, but some of the collections shown from the gardens in the neighbourhood of Newport were very close to him in merit. This wa.s particularly the case with the exhibits from Mr. E. J. Gnce; and if this gentleman's plants go on improving as they have done lately, Mr. Cyphac will have to bring out something better to take a foremost place. The largest tent was 190ft. ic length and 40ft. in width. The principal plants were uncommonly well staged along the centre of this, and the effect was charming. In short, this tent was a modal. Orchids were not numerous, but excellent in quality. The half dozen plants shown from Mr. Fowler's extensive collection at Pontypool, and which gained the first prize. were in capital health and well bloomed. They consisted of Aerides Tobbii, Cattleyi. Gaskeiiiana, Cattleya Gigas Sanderiana,Cypri:» v'ium Parishii, Oncidium Macranthum, and Cypripedium Barbatum. The plant of Cypripedium Niveum shown in the second prize collection from Mr. Watsou waa ¡ finely grown, and a first-rate variety. Fruit was in excellent condition, and vegetablei were very numerous and fine in quality. The potatoes in the cottagers' classes were more numerous than in the open ones, and the quality also was superior. Indeed, the cottagers' product was most creditable to them, and ali must bf pieased to see t his section so well represented. This show is particularly fortunate in having two most energetic and courteous secretaries,and they are very ably assisted by some of the committee, who have become thoroughly proficient iu flower snow matters. ANNUALS as CUT Flowers.—When groups of these are shown they form a most attractive dis- play. The best way is to make a small bundle of each kind and then arrange tltem altogether in a mass, and with a good selection of annuals arlist.i- tically grouped as to colour they are more pretty and sweet. than any oilier class of cut flowers. One of the finest displays of cut annuals ever exnibited In South Wales wa 8Ï1own the athe.. duy lit Newport uv LO!1.dst.one, the weil-knowr lady fhrist If Llaneily. They wrtJcia,Jice jn Vane!y. beautifully olended in colour, and so til tractive that nil societies would find a class or two ot this óerip- lion 'in interesung addition to toeir show, anu one sure to be largely patronised by •. Xhibitors ami ah who delight, to Se choice flowers. At the summer show of the Bristol Horticultural Society,which was held in till Z >oiugic;ii ijardens. Clifton, on July 14, good prize-- were offered tor buncties Of oardv annuals. Numerous lots were stiown, nd in our opinion, were the most attractive of all cut flowers in the show. Cut herb.u-ev.iu> flowers were aiso a most beautilui and interesting class at Bristol, and the Loadstone collection of these at Newport wa a srep if I tile rilJr, direction. Sowing Cabbage Seed.—There is no time when cabbage is moi>- valued than in the early spring months. In many gardens they are the only vegetable from April until June, and it is impossi- ble to have them ready too early in the season. Tho tinl" of sowing t.e seed ha- II. good deal 10 de with this. When sown too early many of the plants are sure to run to seed before forming heads. If sown lal" tile plant* do not become any siz before wimer, Wilen tltey ure checked, and il takes them a 10nc time to become iarge anc1 ready for use in the spring. There is a right time for i-owini;, and the present wil, be found to be most suitable, us the plant* willl.ome a gooú •dze before winter, and tliey will form large heads tor the tuble as soon as possible in "wing. None but earlv varieties should be dealt with, Webb's Emperor or Carter's Hear! well are first- rate. The seed may be sown broadcast or in rows. We prefer the latter plan, as the soii can be hoed between the plants Hnd it al..0 ud nils more liht to the plants, widell keeps them JWlrf and hwilthy. Half-an-ounce of steed product sufficient plants to stocK a small garden, out if any of our readeis feel inclined to Hrow them on a large scale they would find them very profitable to sell in spring, as in the fore part of this war, cor instance, cabbage piai s sold re .dily at a high price. The seeo hnul,: be sown rather thinly, and fro n lin. to liin. below the surface. A moderately-ricn coil them best. A great deal of manure will make the plants grow tast, but it also IDa ke" tiiem very tender and this i" not desiraole wilen tbey I,ave tot pass through a severe wini.r. Hardy grown plants art then the best WiNTiiR Chops.—These are 80 important that wa <igu.lr. urge >neir introduction. Every garden in the country, no matter what it si 10M v be,ah uk" contau. a quantity ot broccoli, sttvoya &c. Many gardens are as yet very full 01 summer vegetables but early potatoes are no beginning to deC»iy jn the steuus, and, ¡¡.s they will continue to shrivel up,-more rows oi winter greent should be planted in between the whole ot th( early potatoes. Other c. ops which may be ripen- ing off, but which cannot be reUlovod vet should also be planted between, as greens will soon begin to grow, and the cropr may be consiuerably a "vuaced in growth bofort the other and early une is removed, whereas i: planting were deterred until this was done it might be too late for uie winter crops earning profitable cizts by the time the y were required lo* use. Autumn Carrots—So far as we ca.n hear or see this is a good year for carrots. The crops are very free from maggot and well developed, there may b0 Instances where they hllYe failed and where such is the case winter car- rots may still be secured by sowing a quantity of seed at once. The Early Horn is thE best variety for present sowing. Ground from which potatoes have been cleared will grow then: without further manuring. Open the drills 12in apart, l £ in. deep, and sow thinly. As soon as the young plants II8e up, and can be handled, thin them out to 2in. or so apart, and excellent roots will be produced for use from October onwards. London Market Gardens—Last, week we hat an opportunity ot inspecting some of the best of these. and notes of culture & carried out therE will be found occasionally in this column. A most astonishing feature is the quantity of plantt grown. Here are a few of the quantities grown at Harefield-grove, near Uxbridge—10 cyclamen, 20.000 maiden ferns, 30.000 tube- roses, 130,000 chrysanthemums, 28.000 tomato plants (one house for these being 700ft. in length a.nd 18ft. in width), 20,000 roses in pots, 1,500 melon plants, 2,000 cucumber plants, and 30,000 gladiolus. Leeks FOR Exhibition.—They cannot be toe thick or long ia the stems, and plenty of the white blanched part is the point to secure a prize. The" should receive large quantities of liquid manure and the soil should be put up carefulU against the stems every tea days or so It is only through earthing them up frequently and carefully that large bjjmched specimens can be produced, and it is almost impossible to injure them with too much feeding. When they are earthed up so much tiiat the soil forms a ridge it is difficult to get the water to reach the roots by emptying it on in the ordinary way, but if a hole is made at the side by & crowbar down to near the root, and the manure water is emptied in here, it will reach the root directly and they will receive the full benefit of it. Table Decorations.—Almost everybody may now have flowers on their table, as oloasoms ax* plentiful everywhere. We do not think that it i generally understood how very well dinner tables appear when decorated with only one kind ot flower. We have often seen tables decorated en tirely with scarlet geranium, or the yellow floweir of A llama n da Hendersonii, it the floral decoratior in West End London mansions may be taken patterns. Many of the dinner-tables there art embellished with only one kind of flower, and in one particular instance we lateiy saw a table la for 30 people where the floral decorations consisted of 1,500 fine blooms 01 La France rose. It is t beautiful pink variety, and they were massed act disposed in other ways in a most delightful manner.
CRYSTAL PALACE CHOIR COMPETITION.
CRYSTAL PALACE CHOIR COM- PETITION. RECEPTION OF TH K CARDIFF BLUE RIBBOI CHOIli. On Saturday evening a large and enthusiasts audience gathered together in Wood-street Chapel t welcome home the Cardiff Blue Ribboi Choir, who succeeded in carrying off thi second prize at the great Temperance Choit contest at the Crystal Palaco on Tuesday last failing to gain the premier point by only twc; marks, and this, no doubt, was owing to the flid that they were eight hours on the journey to the Palace, and within an hour of their arrival wer< called upon to sing, whereas the choir (Manchee* ter) that carried away the much-coveted fir- prize were some hours in the Palace before einr iug. Thereiora, Caruiff has every reason to hi proud of a choir that can do so well under sucti trying circumstances. The usual Saturday night meeting was abandoned, the whole of the time being occupied by the choir in rendering some choice musical selections, amongst which were the test pieces. Space will nut admit of our criticising the performances ot the choir other than saying the rendering of "Sylvia especially was pertect in every respect, as abo was Zimmerman's "Fairy Song." In fact, we were so well pleased with tlie rendering of both these pieces that we feel convinced Cardiff would have been awarded the chief prize had they been permitted to take a much-needed rest. We hope next year the committee will endeavour to have the choit in London the day previous, and thus make sure of adding greater laurels to the already widespread* fame of our local singers..Solos and duets were rendered bv members of the choir. Miss Mary rendering of I wili extol Thee" wu excellent, and gave her an opportunity ot showing to advantage a fine soprano voice, for which she received a hearty encore Miss Purvis has improved greatly since we last heurd her. On this occasion she rendered in good style the very difficult solo From Mighty Kings. Messrs A. Davies M. Collins, and D. Morgan also rendered solos, and Messrs Allied Jenkins and J. V. Proud were very successful n, the duet Martial 8pirit."
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REDPOST PARK, j
REDPOST PARK, j BY EDMUND DOWNEY. Author of Anchor Watch Yarns, It In One Town," &c. IX. I threw myself on the ground beside the struggling body of Madeline Viacava. and in a frenzy I tore my handkerchief in half with my teeth and bound the strips tightly about her wrist above and below the wound. Then, with the Energy of love and despair. I tried to suck the venom from her wrist, though the condition of Madeline's body showed me that such rough-and- ready treatment was of little avail. I would wil- lingly have given my life to save her; but I saw plainly, excited as I was, that 1 was only losing time. The bite had been, judging by its effects, of Such a deadly nature that I feared no skill on earth could snatch her out of the jaws of death. Still, Tvhat man could do I would do. I rose to my feet, her writhing body clasped in )ny arms. The quickest way to reach my surgery would be to retrace my steps through the un- speakably hideous park. The thought involun- tarily rushed through my burning brain that deadly danger to myself lay in th path I had recently traversed, that beneath those rotting branches writhing snakes crawled along the Rround; but this thought I dismissed as quickly as it came. My progress through the park was necessarily Slow, torturingly slow. It seemed as if I should hever reach the dark paling which fringed my garden. But at last, panting and exhausted, I was at the paling, my burden still in my arms, struggling, as it were, to fling itself from my em. brace. I shouted loudly for help, and my cries brought the servants out. Then consciousness partly left me: I did not faint, but my limbs were leaden, and neither lounds nor sights appealed to my senses. And yet, as I was afterwrrds told, I carried Madeline's body myself into the surgery. When I laid her down the physical relief of parting from the dead weight of her body recalled my wandering senses. Gazing found the surgery as if the well-known room were some strange spot of earth, some haven of refuge which. tempest-tossed, I had suddenly and unex- pectedly sighted, I tottered towards a chair and sank down upon it. Mrs. Chilcomb was at my Side in a moment, holding a bottle of brandy in her hand. She poured out a strong dose into a tumbler, and as I swallowed the fiery liquor I felt that I could nerve myself to attend to my patient Until some more trustworthy skill than mine could be offered to her. I sent at once for a neighbouring physician, Dr. Hallworthy, and then I approached Madeline's body. I wiped the blood from her face, and made a fresh examination of the wound. It was beyond question a snake bite, and a. bite of so deadly a nature that I could not imagine what variety of ophidia could have attacked her. I had met with so much success in mv former trentment of snake bite that I decided to pursue a Similar course of treatment in Madeline's case. At the same time, I must confess. I experienced scarcely a ray of hope. I had little faith in the of ammonia solution. especially in a case of such an extraordinarily aggravated kind. The blood had by this time ceased to flow from her mouth. From the nature of the flow I surmised it bad been caused by the rupture of some internal blood-vessels, and the mysterious effect of the Bnnke poison had either dried up the sources from which the blood had come or had radically altered the condition of the blood. A profuso salivation had set in; she was frothing at the mouth, and tke convulsions were every moment gaining strength. I had by this time cauterised the wound and injected the ammonia, und I was anxiously "Watching for some alteration in Madeline's symp- toms, but my anxious eyes could not detect any Change for the belter. Dr. Hallworthy was not long in making his ap- pearance. He was an old-fashioned gentleman with strong proclivities .for surgicul operation. He had been an army doctor, and had seen some Service. Nothing afforded him more pure and Sincere pleasure than a difficult operation. He Was brusque in his manner, and he wagged a Caustic tongue, but he was at heart the kindest and most generous of men, Yet he was a perfect, Nero in surgery; his unfeigned delight at the prospect of cutting away a tumour or sawing off a leg was something to see-and forget. When he entered the surgery he must have Seined me mad—I looked wildly insane, I have bo doobt-but when I told him what the patient was suffering from he evidently considered me lnore mad than ever. But there was no denying the unimpeachable testimony of tha fang, and "Ith eager curiosity he turned his attention at Once to the writhing woman. I told him what I had done, and he said he could Pot suggest any other treatment. In fact, he con- fessed the case was one altogether outside his ken. Bowever, he thought it could do no harm, con- lidering the short time that had elapsed since the poison had entered the wound, to try what effect be cutting away of the part surrounding the wound would have, The poison, he argued, oould oot have travelled far, the ligatures had been applied so shortly after the accident had occurred. the folly of his suggestion was quite patent to me, for such symptoms as Madeline Viacava exhibited Could only be produced by the permeation of the {>oison through her whole system. While I was deliberating with myself what way I could put my views before Dr. Hallworthy with- out causing him great offence I saw the flssh of a tnife. I could not for the life of me stay his hand fr move my tongue. With a slowly uttered impressive Steady" to he I saw the knife imbedded in her wrist. She ottered a shriek, a conscious shriek—the first con- scious sound which had escaped from her lips since I had found her lying in Redpost Park. Dr. Hallworthy suddenly desisted from the operation, and, turning to me, said in a quiet De- J It is too late. It is all over." V At 1 A good deal of what this chapter ,felatfe9 is Written from hearsay, and on that account may Shot be regarded by some as evidence worthy of :credence. However, I will relate only what I believe to be true; and I myself consider the fol- lowing portion of my narrative to be as trust- Worthy as if it were the relation cf my personal eXperience and observation. I do not intend to give any minute record of my impressions—strong as some of them were, and deeply as one bit into toy soul—which the various events made upon me at the time. For many days after Madeline Viacava's death J lay in a, kind of stupor from which nothing could Youse me. These days are a perfect blank in my Bxisience. A post-mortem was held on her body, and there Was no longer any doubt that she had actually died of the bite of a venomous, a deadly venomous, reptile. That a reptile possessed of such terrible Powers could exist in Redpost Park was scarcely credited, but the incontestable fact remained that Madeline had been bitten to dealh by one. The inquest was adjourned for my evidence, but after a fortnight, when I was ablo to eit up and (converse, Dr. Hall worthy decided it would take a "long time to restore me to health, and fearing ex- citement might cause a relapso, he certified that ■for an indefinite period it would be useless to oxpect my presence at the inquest. Therefore my depositions were taken. I could, of course, shed Ho new light on tho tragedy. I could only repeat what the reader has already been told. The pistol shot waa easily accounted for. The dead woman had no doubt seen the reptile before it attacked her, and had fired at it. The pistol was found Sear the spot where I had found her in her last agonies. It was an old-fashioned pistol of foreign manufacture, and had A.V." engraved upon it. Documents which were found in her pocket establishes the fact that the pistol belonged to her husband, who seemed to lead a wandering life on the Continent. The authorities deemed it necessary to have Mr. Brabazon examined, but he was certified to be in- Capable of making even a deposition. Dr. Hall- Worthy and another physician gave this certificate, and though they were satisfied he was unable to leave his bed—they had confined him to bed— "they could not discover what ailed him. The owner of Redpost House lay in a torpor all day-a Stupor like that which 1 ha.d experienced after Madeline's death. Thrice had the doctors entered Bedpost House, armed with official authority, and thrice had they left the chamber of Mr. Urabazon .baffied in thoir endeavour to discover the nature W his ailment. Dr. Hallworthy afterwards informed me that the Examination was a superficial one. Mr. Brabazon Was not shamming, of that they were convinced but they had taken Mr. Ashcroft's word for a good Seal. Mr. Ashcroft was then subpoenaed to the inquest, Which had been twice adjourned; but his evidence Waa of little value in clearing up the mystery of the reptile. His master, he stated, had been a Confirmed invalid from his birth, and had been tor over twenty years in his sole and undivided Charge. He had occasional intervals of soundness, but robust health he had never enjoyed. In one Of those intervals he had been travelling abroad, and had met with the husband of the dead woman, who had endeavoured to extort large sums of money from him, and who had a few months prior to her death announced his intention of personally pressing a demand for money, which Mr. Brabazon had ignored. He. the witness, did not, he con- fessed, believe in the existence of venomous reptiles in Redpost Park, but Mr. Brabazon, he was sure, would be glad if the authorities would take the matter in their hands, and ascertain if reptiles ■really did exist in the park. L This was the gist of Mr. Ashcroft's evidence. ihe examination and cross-examination he was Subjected to had, I was told, a deep effect upon hiui, and he answered the questions put to him in manner which created a good deal of sympathy him and for the patient whose life had been, it Jow appeared, almost an unbroken chain of kodily unsoundness. The newspapers were filied with accounts of the Jxtraonjinary tragedy, and the history of Redpost Park for half a century was by degrees laid bare I *o the public. I cannot offer here the various dishes of horrors which were from time to time set before a public which ever craves for horrible diet in print, and seems by feeding to grow more hungry. Mrs. Chilcomb was in great request at this time, and many other oldest inhabitants found themselves the subject of enviable, or unenviable, notoriety. The late owner of Redpost Park, by all accounts, had been a monster of iniquity. Time may mellow a man's faults, but the mellowing process ceases when it becomes for some reason the fashion to rake up the dead bones of some forgotten scandal. A reaction then sets in. If Archibald Brabazon were all that rumour alleged him to have been, if he had committed, if he had even contemplated, half the diabolical deeds which memories going back for half a century placed to his credit, the only mystery to me was that the infernal spirits had not envied his powers, and carried him to Avernus in delirious wonder, ere the hands of the common hangman had pinioned him. Of course the various stories which some of the newspapers gave to the world were laughed at by sensible folk; hut there is seldom smoke without fire, and it was ascertained beyond question that in many of the charges laid against the dead and gone owner of Redpost Park there was a substra- tum of truth. His elder brother had disappeared in an unaccountable manner; and Archibald had been arrested on a charge of having murdered his wife, but there had been no straightforward evidence against him in either of these cases. It was also true that at one period of his career he had out of pure devilry let loose in the park a number of reptiles, and the authorities being made aware of the fact bad been obliged to seize upon the park and rid it of this horrible pestilence. But again, Archibald Brabazon had had the laugh against his accusers, for it was ascertained that every reptile had been harmless, its venom glands having been extracted. Then came stories of the mad, drunken docter, who had been the constant and only male companion of Archibald Brabazon, and who had, it appeared, hanged him- self trom one of the trees in the park. The ridicu- lous charges which were made against the pair of miscreants—miscreants they undoubtedly were— Archibald Brabazon and Dr. Anthony Bletsoe, could only cause me to smile, though an uneasy shudder attended that smile. There is no occasion—it would help my narra- tive nothing to record here the various tales, one more horrible than the other, which were told of those two men long since summoned to the final tribunal. Some of them dwell vividly in my memory still, and some I have succeeded in banishing to the realmsof oblivion. But though I have endeavoured to close upon these the doors of forgetfulness, the doors will now and then open for an instant, andatonid breath will rise in the air until I stagger as if from the stroke of an iron hand. The fang which I had extracted from Madeline Viacavi's wound was the subject of much heated controversy. It was beyond doubt a viperine fang. but no authoritative voice could decide what the nature of its original owner was. Ali were agreed that the serpent must have been an un- commonly large one, but the fang belonged to no known order of serpent. It was finally decided, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that a compromise was arrived at—that the fang was one of abnormal growth and formation, some natural eccentricity. Redpost Park wua scoured from end to cmd. but nothing more venomous thiiu a colony of toads was discovered, The auruiUns as to tho whero- abouts of tho reptile winch had bitten Maduliuo so savagely were various, Tho general opinion was that it had escaped from the park after the tragedy. This idoa naturally canned a good deal of uneasiness, and nervous folk in my suburb avoided the lonely lanes and tho few open spacos which still existed in tho neighbourhood. In the search for the reptile in Rodpost Park ono discovery was made which for a while diverted people's minds from the mystery of Madeline Via- cava's death. The skeleton of a full-grown man was dug up almost in the centre of the park, in the vicinity of the tree from which Doctor Hlotsoe had hanged himself. There were no means of identifying tho skeleton. It was duly examined, and the skull was found to have been almost cleft in twain as if from the blow of some heavy instru- ment. It was currently believed that the skeleton was that of Ralph Brabazon, the elder brother of the diabolical Archibald, and that his mysterious disappearance had been at length accounted for. (To be continued.)
HER HUSBAND S SECRET
lNOW FIRST PUBLISHED.] t HER HUSBAND S SECRET BY CYRIL SEYMOUR, CHAPTER XIII.—THB CtTLPBiT, After a while Mr. Griplooker recovers partially from his prostration and begins to look aimlessly around his room—a new apartment which has sprung into being with the extensions rendered necessary on the starting of the Sentinel. This is the morning on which he goes down to the office of the organising secretary of the parly to receive his weekly cheque, and he wonders whether he will be abls to face that gentleman and whether < his demand will be met with tho usual cheerful I alacrity. And the more he reflects the more dubious he grows upon both points. Indeed, all may be over. This very day may see the fate of the Sentinel decisively sealed and his sweet day- dreams of the future shattered and trampled j ruthlessly in the dust. But, whatever is to j befall, he must not sit here in stupor. He must bestir himself and act with decision at j once. The miserable little man has never yet acted with decision in any emergency; and in the calamity which has befallen him he can formulate no clear course of action. He wanders into the printers' room up to the desk of the grey-headed and garrulous foreman who is just then engaged in handing out to the day hands—that is, the second staff of compositors who work here during the daytime—the manu- script of a leading article from the pen of Mr Hazard. The sight of this gives him an idea, and instead of discussing the awful affair with Mr. Stoneman, he contents himself with addressing an order to that person. "Stop setting that stuff and send a boy at once to Mr. Hazard's lodgings. Say I desire to see him directly on most important business." A boy is despatched on the errand, and then Mr; Griplooker walks back into his room, shuts the door, sits down In a chair by tho firo, and gazes gloomily at the white ceiling. The messenger, as might have been expected, discovers Dick enjoying the sweot slumber which at nine o'clock in the morning is generally the portion of the weary journalist who finds it difti- ] cult to tear himself from the trammels of toil until the" sma' wee 'oors." Good Mrs. Gubbins his landlady, knowing that Dick has only had some five hours' sleep, is uot easily persuadod to awaken i him but the lad Is persistent, and at length she i rouses her valued lodger. t An hour passoa, and Dick makos his appearance < at the door of Mr. Griplooker's private room, with a face fully indexing his feelings at this unwonted call. You want to see me particularly, Mr. Grip- looker, I understand ho grumbles forth l interrogatively as he crosses tho threshold of the room. i Yes. Sit down, please." Mr. Griplooker holds in his hand a copy of this i week's Scorpion, He has never allowed the paper 1 out of his possession since it was placed upon his 1 breakfast tabln, excepting when as recorded it fell from his nerveless hand to the floor, and he now] holds it up in a crumpled and folded form. He < intends to bring matters quickly to a crisis, s and is boiling with an emotion that shows itself in a fixed eye, flushed cheek, and hoarse tragic voice. 1 "You see this?" he says, flourishing the i Scorpion. 1 do." It is this week's Scorpion." Really, is it though? Dick asks calmly. I thought you never read the wretched thing ? No, I don't; but"—Mr. Griplooker is stumbling over flat falsehood, as Dick discerns—" but, I have had my attention specially directed to this issue. See there—page eight. Read it, sir." Dick takes the paper thrust into his hand, full of amazement and conjecture as to what can have stirred Mr. Griplooker into this serious state, and spreading the Scorpion on the table by his side, leans over it and reads the article without word 01' ign to the very end. Meanwhile the suppressed wrath of Benjamin Griplooker, Ksq., approaches the point of ex- plosion. When Dick has done he looks impassively up into Mr. Griplooker's face. Well ? That is all he says. "Well—well, sir ? What do you mean? It is not well. It is ill. Damnation, sir, this is terrible —nothing less than black ruin Dick has not heard Mr. Griplooker utter a naughty word before and he is speechless with surprise. At any rate he pretends to be so. What have you to say to all this, Mr. Hazard ? "Nothing." "Great heavens! Nothing, sir, nothing? Is it nothing that the Sentinel should be sent to eternal smash, that I should pose before the world as a thief, that I should be robbed of my hard earnings and good name by those whom I am sup- porting in luxurious Idleness, I scarcely comprehend you, Mr. Griplooker. When I tell you that I have nothing to say, I mean of course that I am sincerely sorry for what has happened, but But, but, but! Wherefore these buts t But," proceeds Dick calmly, not heeding the interruption," as I had no hand whatever in engaging this Mr. Foulger-as, indeed, he was selected by you entirely without my knowledge, not to say against my wishes-you can scarcely expect ole to hold myself answerable in any way I for what has happened." Mr. Foulger ? Yes, Mr. Foulger. You don't suppose I've had any hand in this business, do you ?" I don't know what to think, Mr. Hazard," ] replies Griplooker. "The fact is this terrible affair has nearly deprived me of my senses but, for heaven's sake, what are we to do ? "Kick that fellow Foulger downstairs into the street," suggests Dick. That should be the first step. It's an awful blow to the Sentinel, and I feel it deeply myself." Then seeing bow firmly despair had taken possession of the old man, from whom all passion has fled, be adds consolingly: We'll pull through it, however. Nobody will believe that it was done knowingly by those in authority here. And in to-morrow's issue I'll explain freely and frankly, how we have been duped." Mr. Griplooker touches the bell at his side and a boy appears from the lower regions. Call a cab," he says. Then turning again to Dick he remarks, I am going home. I am utterly upset and wouldn't walk through the streets to meet the jeering faces of my friends for the world. I dare not- trust myself to see the fellow. Will you please order him off the premises at once when he arrives? The proprietor of the Flapjly is in truth hors de combat. He has even to lean on Dick's arm as he walks falteringly down the steep stairs, to hide himself and his misery in the old-fashioned four- wheeler that is drawn up at the door. Good-morning, I am sorry I suspected you, Mr. Hazard. Oil, that scoundrel! he gasps, peep- ing out of the window as the vehicle departs. Dick wafts towards him what is intended for a reassuring smile and then turns into the office to await the arrival of Mr. Foulger. That gentleman, as has been mentioned, is noted for the precision with which each morning he makes his appearance, and, as it is just upon the stroke of ten, Dick walks directly into the room which he had resigned to the stranger—the snug little panelled apartment in which in the old days of ease he forged the thunderbolts of the Easter- leiyh Flapjly. The pretty photographs have all been removed from the dark wooden walls, and the view of the antique courtyard of the Royal George is intercepted by the firebrick walls of the new establishment which has arisen to meet the needs ot the daily paper. He notices all this for the hundredth time and soon he hears the shuffling step of Mr. Foulger upon the stairs. The assistant leader-writer enters, removes his hat, and is proceeding to exchange his shiny and beer stained frock coat for a dusty flannel jacket hanging in a corner, when Dick speaks. a word with you, Mr. Foulger. Don't put. your coat off for a mompnt. Do you ever see thie paper P It is the Swedeshire Scorpion. Just glance your eye over that article and tell me what you think of it." Unsuspicious Mr. Foulger receives the Scorpion with thanks, and seating himself lightly upon the corner of his desk by tlw window prepares him- stlf for the perusal of the interesting item to which Mr. Hazard has so kindly directed his attention. Dick drops down in a chair by his sido and fixes his eye steadily upon tho countenance of tho individual before him. t strong light is pouring into the room, not- withstanding the presence of tho now buildings. Mr. Foulger's eyesight ia rat her weak, and ho has to resort to the aid of glaaics, Thcao ai« *unpen- ded by a cord round hid neck, und hili thiu shaking hand wanders in eoarch of Lliem, Mr. Foulgor'# face is nut of an inviting type} but thiu morning tho liomy air has imparted to it t shado of colour and ho ig looking his t, lie has found hia now and ill filing (hem On 11111 oliarp nose, Dick'is eye never moves, Tho colour dies suddenly away from Hf. Foul- ger's cheeks, which firai ayheu grey and then leaden lined. A narvoua treuiour pubdes over Ins countenance ami tllo IllInd which holds up \.11(1 Scorpion Is lowered mechanically LO the table whereon ho deposits the paper. "You have not road it all," says Dick wmoree- lesaly. Mr. Foulger stands silent. He is thoroughly conscious of his guilt. The proper thing to do would be to kick you straight downstairs into the street," Dick proceeds icily: It uut. wrongdoers do not, always gel. ihoir deserts. Take that and go. It is tho only money you have honestly come by in ICasterloigh, upon which I would advise you to turn your back at once for good." Mr. Foulger picks up the two shining coins which Dick has taken out of his pocket, and with some thick indistinct, observation turns upon his heel and shuffles downstairs into the street, the very picLure of tho miserable hotnid htJ is. Dick's good advice is only followed so far. Mr. Foulger has withdrawn himself from the office of the Stlttiuel; but. he has no immediate intdltion of quitting Easierittigh. The blow was not alto- gether an unexpected one. lie knew that its urrivul Wus unly a matter of time. tiut. Ii", scarcely iLDt.lciparel1 that It would Ilave come upon Üim so suddenly as it lilt" dune. There i", however, one consolaium. lie hastaknn the precaution to draw that week's salary before coming upstairs as well as another in advance. With this anil Dick's gift he IS tairly wtJll provided tor, anu iie must not. un- duly complain, for there are pleasant prospects still in eiore. So, hey for the Buff (Joatand suong urinu buiiicienl. to drown his sorrows! Anu Lhe ouicasL bullous his collar closely around his neck, wedges his 1mt upou his head, and disappears down ( tie city to 6wallow in whiskey for the next few days, and proUibly atter that to beg his way to London and once more become part and parcel of tli.t flotbam and jetsaui of FleeL-sUcot and ita purlieus. CIIAPTKR XIV. A Visitor to LIonetsdcklb HOUSE; Dick's task of putting the Sentinel right with the public is no easy one. The fact that a great quantity of its editorial matter has been Atolen from a variety of newspapers published at a dis- tance and especially from tbe North- tVester-n JVeios, is undeniable. This he openly acknowledges in Iís public references to tho subject; for it would be madness to do otherwise in view of tho proof which is everywhere forthcoming of the gross plagiarism. Hut, he explains, it was the work not if any member of the regular staff, but of an individual writer in whom confidence had been misplaced, and the subscribers to the Sentinel should remember that even editors are not omni- scient, that similar frauds have often previously been perpetrated upon the conductors of publi- cations of the most unimpeachablo character, and that in such cases the victims deserved sympathy rather than censure, adding thllJ. it shows both bad taste and unwise policy on tho part of their con- temporaries to pursue them so malignantly for a misfortune that in every likelihood might one day be their own unlucky lot. This was very true, and no doubt would have had due weight with the public; but the Scorpion was by no means inclined to let the matter drop. It admitted the force of Hazard's argument—con- fessing, indeed, that so tar as Mr. Hazard himself was concerned it had not the slightest imputation to offer—but then it pointed out that the editorial writers of respectabla newspapers were generally supposed to be men of some credit, morally at least, and went on to explain that it was impos- sible, under the circumstances, for anything else to have happened than did happen in the case of a paper which was content to enlist tramps upon its literary staff. Then followed some pungent para- graps of personal gossip concerning Mr. Foulger that we need not here reproduce—all of which struck Benjamin Griplooker, Esq., to the soul, for he expected every moment to find himself entirely dispossessed of the control is < paper he had just begun to reckon amongst his own private and particular assetj. But there was no fear of any change being made for the time. The General Election was close at hand, and the leaders of the party were cootent to let things swing. After- wards-well, we shall see what we shall see. And now let us turn awhile to Arthur Hunt. The exterior of Honeysuckle House bears every svidence of the stern sway of Nature's harsh and inhospitable season. The bittereast wind, coming shrieking from the sea across the level naked country, binding river and road in rigid fetters, is whirling the fast-falling snow in great stinging showers along the hard highway, buffeting, blind- ing, and mocking in the mirth of its malignant might all who are unfortunately called upon to face its fearful force on this wild winter afternoon. It is one of those days on which, in common talk it is not fit for a dog to be out-of-doors. Yet, many human beings have unhappily to be abroad in the pursuit of that unceasing daily toil to which ;he great majority of mankind is doomed from birth. Arthur Hunt is not one of those upon whom the primeval curse of earning his bread in bitterness md by the sweat of his brow has fallen, and thus, sitting in slippered ease by a red roaring fire in hi* study, looking out upon the cold white snow and ruel clouds which from so sombre a setting for the black skeleton-like trees waving weirdly in the foreground, he[thinks that he could gladly nut himself in the place of the panting agricultural labourer now pressing alone along thr; highway with the wind in his teeth on some mission of his Laskmaster, for he, poorly clad and ill-fed as he is, should ft least have no secret sucking like fabled vampyre at his soul-that dull bovine red face, meek and mild-eyed, can mask no mystery such us his. He is conscious, in some undefinable way, of impending disaster, but ho knows not when or from what quarter that disaster may come, and tho anguish of suspense is more than he can long continue to bear. At times, when alJnù, he feels utterly broken down und almost inclined to go straightway to Florence, throw himself at her feet, tell her all, and release Iht from the cruel position in which un- wittingly he has placed her. But in his more sober moments he sees the madness of such a course I nd knows that it is impossible and that he must suffer on in silence to the last, if he would not pierce her loving heart to the core. The truth —the terrible truth—may come to her at any hour. It is his to avert not to hasten the blow. And might not by some miracle of Heaven the past be redressed if not redeemed ? He must show an unfailing front to the world and keep even the shadow of his secret from Horence. But., though Arthur bears .himself well—though even his old friend Dick Hazard can detect uothiug that may lead him to suspect that there is any change in him but that wrought by his recent illness-his wife is not so easily deceived. A vague dread has come over Florence. Sometimes he fears that her husband's mind is unhinged by what he has suffered, and again that his love for her is slowly weakening. He is no longer the bright happy Arthur of old, who enjoyed her simple society with the zest of the sweet days 3f their courtship and their honeymoon at Cley- cliffe. Nows he seems almost to shun her, shutting himself up in his study for hours, and even at night when they are together by the cheerful hearth i.' the snug ilttle sitting-room looking out upon the whito lawn and frost- bound river it is only by an apparent iffort that be is enabled to assume even a semblanoe of the sweet relations which aha had once fondly and foolishly hoped would last for ever. There is an air of mystery, too, about him. Once he had nought concealed from her. At the breakfast table she would open and read aloud his letters whilst he lay lazily back. She would pen I his replies at dictation, and it was one of their little household jokes that she was learning short- hand for the purpose of becoming his Parliamen- tary secretary when he had entered the House—a thing, of course, which he had not the remotest hope or desire of doing. But now a mystery was dividing them. Arthur attended strictly to the contents of the letter box himself, and though the old correspondence still fell to her share, he had plainly business on hand in regard to which he showed not even the faintest inclination to enlighten her, whilst she, on her own part, guarded herself against betraying the slightest inquisitiveness. Of course, she was possessed by no undue or unworthy suspicion. The epistles he received and answered in the secrecy of his study might be of the most commonplace character, as doubtless they were; but the mystery was there nevertheless, and it weighed heavily upon her mind. We left Arthur sitting at his study window con- templating the afternoon's storm. The country- man whose condition he has just been envying has passed out of sight, and the highway is altogether deserted. No. not altogether, for presently a dark thin individual, attired in a shabby, discoloured frock coat, buttoned close against the bitter breeze, comes in sight, struggiing painfully against the east wind. A visitor, evidently, for he halts oppo- site the house and turns down the garden path. Whoever can he be ? A beggar, probably, though conjecture is needless, for in answer to a ring the maid announces that a gentleman is waiting to see her master in the hall-Mr. Foulger by name. "What on earth can that impudent knave want here?" he thinks to himself. Then he adds aloud— "Tell him I am not at home." But Mr. Foulger is not to be misled by this common device of polite society. The girl returns with another message from him. The person "—he is a gentleman no longer in Mary Ann's eyes—" the person, sir, Bays ho must see you that he won't leave until ho does, and that 1 have to tell my master that the business is about Mr. Edward North." CHAPTER XVK I BLACKMAIL. The business is about Mr. Edward North." These concluding words of his visitor's message, uttered though they are as simple piece commonplace by the mildest-voiced and meeke?t- mannered of maid-servants, burn themselves into Arthur Hunt's brain like red-hot iron. Has grim fate at last como upon him and chosen as her instrument this fellow Foulger, this drunken despicable hound, of all men ? It would seem so. But there are limits to human endurance, and he will break ere ho will bend before this abject wretch if the worst has come, and let the embodi- ment of his relentless pursuer beware. Marv Ànn is meanwhile awaiting orders anù Mr. Fouiger is shivering on the doorstep, with access to the interior of Honeysuckle House barred by a chain which affords the unwelcome visitor only a narrow glimpse of the hall. From his aspect she expects her master to rush straight towards the entrance and violently kick the intruder off the ground, a course of procedure in which she woald inwardly delight, despite her demure looks. Bat Arthur does not procced to extremities. He sinks down passionalely into the chair from which he had sprung whon the girl came back from Foulger 1.1. eecond timø, "Show the fellow in here, Mary," he observes, ILnlllull your mistresu that I shall be ongaged for a few minutes." Yes, sir." Mary returns again directly, followed bv Foulger, who edges his way into tho apartment, with an air of evident apprehension as to the mariner of his reception; but when lin finds Arthur seated quietly in an easy chair by tho nrohe recovers confidence. He has liean drinking heavily since that little interview of hia with tho editor of the Flapjly. The five pounds which his own strategy and Dick Hazard's generosity then placed in his pocket have bnen jingled to a merry tlme-IL tunn that by this time has transmuted them into bronze. Flis sallow face is empurpled, and tho white of his black beady eye has become a dull ied, whilst the hand which grasps his battered chimney-pot is decidedly unsteady. As a member of the literary staff of the Sioedeshire Daily Sentinel Mr. Foulger had managed to preserve a tolerably tidy uppenvance. Thtt cast-off clothes handed over to hiin by Benjamin Griplooker, Ksq, had fitted him fairly weli, whilst a rough daily atten- tion to his toilet had kept him from becoming absolutely unwholesome. Now, however, he is far from presentuble. He has slept in his habiliments for the last few days, and they are tossed and torn uml siiiie.ared, whilst a greasy face, unkempt hair, anJ coilarless throat, around which his c »at is closely buttoned, toially robhiin of even the faintest claim to respectability in the most ordinary acceptation of the term. What the devil do you want 11t:¡-¡¡ ¡HI Such is the salute with which Arthur opens fire. (To be continued.)
FEMININE FANCIES, FOIBLES,…
FEMININE FANCIES, FOIBLES, AND FASHIONS, By A LADY, [All Rights Rserve".) I" the comfort and enjoyment of stall seats, Courteously presented to me by Mr. Henry Irving, I was enabled, for the first time, to witness the per- formance of "Faust" at the Lyceum, failing health having hitherto prevented my doing so. Though the piece has now been several months beforo the public, it appears to attract as much as over, nnd I hear on t.ho ro-openingof tho theatre in September tho performance of Faust" will be continued. I had heard the piece described, I had read the play itsolf, and much also that h,¡ been written in praise as well as blame, but without seeing it oneself it is quite impossible to form an adequate conception of the wonders, and, I may say also, the terrors, of the pieco. One must witness it to realis how subtle, how startling, how terrible are the revela- tions made to those who see in every representa- tion of character more than the mere surface delineation of a borrowed part. Even in comedy such a spectator is often moved to sadness, for the intensely comic is but ono step removed from tears. Who does not remember the story told of a celebrated comedian; how that one day a miserably depressed dyspeptic patient went to consult a great physician ? Having prescribed, as he thought, suitable remedies, ^E^culapius said, "And now, sir, the best thing you can do is to have a good laugh. Go and see Liston." The patient was none other than the famous comedian him- self. Nightly convulsing his audience, and himself a prey to the deepest melancholy I think Faust" is one of the saddest and most subtle plays I have ever witnessed, not excepting such tragedies as Shakspeare writes of. These in our time are, happily, rare, and few playgoers netd to lay their lessen to heart, nor find in their own bosoms the temptation against which the tragical scenes depicted would seem to warn them. Who was it said that Every non of Adam had murder in his heart" ? Murderous passions, perhaps, but few go tho length of deliberately taking human life. Spito of those adverse opinions so often entertained by wise and good men, the stage, at its best, is cer- tainly a great moral teacher. Shakspeare un- doubtedly intended his plays should uphold right and reprobate wrongdoing; and even plays of lesser merit, or, I may sav, of doubtful merit, also, nearly always, like ^Esop's Fables," supply a moral. Not many days back I heard a wise, large- hearted man say he could not see how society could possibly be amused or benefited by such a play as "Faust." I do not think the most super- ficial among play-goers can be exactly amused by it; entertained would, I fancy, better express the feelings of a majority. To thinking persons—a minority, of course—the piece is fraught with far more pain than pleasure. I speak of pleasure as tile wOI-d is generally undr- stood. A painful fascination, combinrd with admiration of the subtle representation of the chief actor, carries one on breathlessly to the Considered as a spectacle only, the pioco is marvellous. As p. psychological study, it is both painful and humiliating, for it holds up the mirror to nature in a way that cannot fail to humiliate those who see themselves therein. It is when every-day vices, in all their nakedness and deformity, are eo held up to vi- w, and dire consequences of even unpremeditated wrong-doing are spread»before us, with all the frightful com- plications springing therefrom, and when the utter weakness of human nature in its resirtance of evil is made apparent by tampering* with con- science, the speciousness of false sophistry, and all other subtleties of feeling tending downwards to somo uwful unexpected issu?— it is, I say, when the poor human heart is so dis- sected bit by bit before our eye, and all its secret impulse* and desires laid bare that the lesson steps in and we shudder and fear for ourselves consciously in the presence of a mighty assiduous and insidiouf onemy who sneers at our weak resolutions, laughs to scorn our excuses always assails, and often conquers us where we deemed ourselves most invincible. One is literally enthralled by the terrible subtlety and bitier cynicism with which Irving plays the part of the "Fathor of Evil." Yet it is scarcely the stupendous and fearful creation of Milton that the actor impersonates, it is rather evil familiar, a crafty, sneering, jibing, importunate devil. I am afraid I must use the objectionable word, for no other exactly convoys my meaning. But WI) also get glimpses of the arch-fiend in moments of terrible and appalling supremacy. Anything more awfully realistic than the scone wluch discovers certain lost touls in torment cannot be imagined, much lews described. Laughter, demoniacal and mirthless, mingling fear- fully with bhrit-ka and j ells, an other sounds nf fiendish revelry, shouts of derision greeting the lament of the ancient ghost, who, standing on a rock, bewails that he can get no higher, though he has bctn climbing 3,000 years already—thess combine to form a sufficiently terrible picture, strengthened, however, by the sight of flames and sulphurous smoke vomited forth in the back- ground, accompanied by forked lightning and the bellowing of thunder that would seem to rend tho very heavens asunder. Involuntarily I closed my eyes and stopped my ears, but a horrible fascination compelled me to look ajain. There, in his own domain, triumphaat and terrible, stood the spirit of evil incarnate, and terrible, stood the spirit of evil incarnate, Presently, the rest of the stage being dark, concen- trated light centred on th blood-red figure, throwing it into awful prominence; thsn, with sudden change, the whole platform and its occu- pants were wrapped in sheets offlame, and, with lurid flashes of lightning and the deafening crash of thunder, the curtain fell, and I, I am ashamed to confess, went, for the first time in my life, into hysterics, subdued, of course, for the dread of making a scene exercises a wonderful control over the emotions. I hvoj no space to describe the scenas which ended in such grand climacteric. Throughout, the spirit of evil, according to tradition, is ever present, untiringly aiding, abetting, beguiling, sug- gesting, and pandering, and at last, with fiendish malice and horrid glee, confronts his victims with their deeds, and tries to convince them tho door of repentance is fast shut against them for ever. Faust,, having already sold his fOul, is hurried away in the custody of his terrible master, but Marguerite, falling down the foot of the Cross, is re-claimed by Heaven at tht last moment. The scene in the Cathedral if perfect. The swelling of thn organ, the chanting of the choir, mingled with the voices of the worshipper*, favoured illusion so much that one had to look around to r.lise that this was no devout congregation, but a rapt .vuaience, waiting somi expectod denoue- mentjMr. li ving's conception of the character is truly wonderful. There is, in the airiness in the im- puCU nt devilry (pardon the word) with which ht invost? it, something so subtle, so inimitable, and so fiendish that imagination fails to conceive anything more appropriate. Th<- Kttitude>, occa- sionally assumed by the chief actor, wondrously suggestive. With hia hideous, leering ey ingenious poses, he is more than a personifica- tion, ht, is tho great archetype of incpudtnce åD wiekednebt himself. It is the highest (. raiia I can offer, paradoxical as it e-ems. I cannot say I think the Mephistophctas either beautiful or becoming. It is fashioned after the style of the head-dress worn bv Mr. Irving in "Faust," with this difference, that, whereas the real Mephistopheles hat has flaps, or ears, worn downwards, its imitation has these appendages turned upwards and laid flat against the crown. This style is eccentric, and, as 1 remarked before, the eccentricity is not justified by the becomingness of the hat. Tiu Mephistopheles hat figured very conspi- cuously on the ground at Lord's when the Oxford und Cambridge match was played at the beginning of last week. Sailor hats. however, were in the ascendant at the Eton and Harrow conI est, which took place later in the same week. Travelling gowns are now occupying the atten. tion of tailors and dressmakers. People are leaving town fast. Some who took their holidays early have already returned. One friend of mine, with his wife and family, has just arrived from Norway, where the weather was cold, wet, and windv, whilst we poo • Londoners might be said to have literally emulated a certain famous martyr who wag frizzled 10 death on a gridiron. Other of my friends are touring in Scotland, preferring the comparative prtracs andsoKkfost ot an early visit rather than mait till the ra&joritjr fi tourists go northwardi. IID taking a holiday it aeeins to me sufficient regard is not paid te certuin important considerations, a tact fust brought home to me in the case of soubb of > tlte friends vtejse recent journeys I m'ft quoted. .1. One, a physicim with an extensive practice, IInd terribly hard worked at all times. tells me he lias been travelling almost night and day in order to seo as much of the country (Norway) as possible during a brief stay. From steamboat to rail, and vice versa, he has been on the go nearly every hour in the 24 and, except for the freedom from professional anxiety, and the change of scene and mode of travelling, this is what mv friend has been doing for the space of twenty years or more incessantlv, and I think he is ready to admit thai the dolcefar niente would have been better suited to his case. A brother physician, equally hard- worked, tells me he would like to be all day on th sea shore and fling pebbles into the water. My Scotch friends are walking twenty miles a day. and in consequence must, I think, b. taking their pleasures sadly—at least the ladies of the imrty. To derive the fullest, benefit from a holi- day, the locality chosen, it' a new one, should not be tried without, consulting a physician, for if fancy be sole director of your choice, you may go north when you should go south, and the conse- quence be that, you return weary, dispirited, and often worse than before. Many holidays are. as it were, snatched out of buy lives, and money tc meet expenses is often hard to find. It is bitterly disappointing to feel vhat. the desired end has been frustrated for want of a little judicious advice or reflection. I know a celebrated Q.U. who says that no one can detest Margate more than himself, but as he is in search of health, and finds it there, no consideration of the vulgarity of the place prevents a yearly sojourn at Margate. I am often puzzled to account for the preference housekeepers give to white curlainil-even in towns, where t hey soil quickly, ihis preference is very marked. For II. small sum one ("lIn get really a'-tis'ic curtains now-a-days. I purchased a pair tin- other day which were t&ken for real Indian goods by quite an expert in such matters. My curtains are cream muslin, with an Oriental pattern in indigo-blue upon it. There i" a deep border at the bottom, and the length is 3 yards, price 2s. 6d. each. These Beypoor curtains, as they are called, are procurable in several colours. 1 was also shown a better make, t-enuine Indian manufacture, styled Delhi curtains. They have a handsome border, are four yards long and two yards wide, and cost 6" 9 I. each curtain. In the same shop were some tasteful wooden brackets, made in three sizes, and painted sealing- wax red, gamboge, blue, and white severally. The price of these elegant trifles is Is., Is. 6d., and Is. 9d. each, according to size. Oriental tea tables, painted various colours, are 7s. 5d. each. Thev are very quaint, and bright looking also, and are charming as occasional tables, being so light that they may be easily moved from place to place as required. Hammocks, too, at 10s 6d. and 9s. 6d. each suggested pleasant, thoughts of delightful ease and um- brageous shade. Seeing how few country people avail themselves of these charming appliances, I cannot, but declare they neglect their opportunities. Could 1 insure shade and privacy I believe the first t hing I should invest in would be a hammock. I cannot help remarking how very general Nor- folk jackets have become; they have simply rushed into favour. Only ten weeks ago the first —as I duly chronicled—appeared at Madame White's, and now almost every third person one meets wears a Norfolk jacket. As a matter of fact, they suit neither very slim nor very tout figures, but that does not deter representatives of these opposite types from following the fashion. I notice that. most cambric owns are made with a wide lace flounce at the bottom. Some- times it is confined to the front part. A good washing lace should be chosen, or otherwise th flounce must be renewed after washing. Nothing looks more untidy than ragged lace, and cheap laces invariably develop a fringe after visiting the laundress. Ladies who are fond of gardening without gloves, and those who discard gloves on the beach, find their hands inevitably browned by such exposure. A good way of bleaching them is to wash the hands in a basin of warm water, in which a drachm of hyposulphate of soda has been dissolved. This can be done once or twice a day, until the colour of the skin is restored. No soap must be used, and the hands each timo be well dried on a bath towel. A little cold cream should be rubbed in a short time afterwards. Fumes of sulphur are said to be excellent for whitening th* hands, but if any of the vapour goes down the throat the consequences would be very diaagra#- -ble, not to say painful.
THE BATCHELOR STATUE AT CARDIFF.
THE BATCHELOR STATUE AT CARDIFF. ARRANGEMENTS FOR ITS ERECTION. It will be remembered that about six months ago it was decided to erect in Cardiff a statue of the late Mr. John Batchelor, and the commission was entrusted to Mr. Milo ap Griffith, of London a well-known sculptor. The work has just been completed, and the statue arrived ia Cardiff on Saturday. The site selected for its erection is the open space at the Haves on the spot formerly occupied by the butcher shop of the late Mr. Ayres. The foundation, which has already been laid in extends to a depth of five feet, and is about ten feet square. This space has been filled up with concrete to about nide inches of the surface, upon which three courses of bricks have been raised. The pedestal, which is of Cornish grey granite, will be placed upon this founda- tion, and the whoie work is expected to be completed during the week. The pedestal, which will measure 5ft. lin. by 5ft. 3in, will be formed of four stones, and will weigh about twelve tons. The second stonn from the base is moulded, and on this the die is placed to receive the moulded cornice,on which will rest the statue. The height of the pedestal will be 9ft, 6in., and the statue itself will be of precisely the same height. The figure was cast in bronze at Thames Ditton by Mr. James Moore. It represents Mr. Batchelor in his ordinary attire,. standing on his right leg, with the left foot for- ward. The left arm is resting on the hip, with a roll of papers in the hand, and the right is stretched forward, as though the subject was delivering a speech. A noteworthy feature in this work of art is, that the sculptor has worked in the spectacles, without which John Batchelor would scarcely be recognised. When Mr. Milo ap Griffith received the com- mission considerable difficulty was experienced in obtaining a photograph, and in the end only ooe could be obtained, which had been taken sixteen or seventeen years ago. From this the statue was modelled, and the sculptor was set tha difficult task of improving the likeness, under the direc- tion of the friends of Mr. Batchelor. During the progress of the work the relatives of Mr. Batchelor frequently inspected the model, and expressed themselves delighted with tha accuracy of the portrait.
Advertising
THE Morning Advertiser of February 22nd, 1885, has the followillg Messrs. COX and CO., 41, South- ampton Bttilùillgs, Holborn, Iiondon, have lately been instrumental lu obtaining many large sums from the Chancery Paymasters. The prompt and cheap system adopted by Cox and Co. will greatly assist persons to obtain what legally belongs to them from the vast accumulated hoards in Chancery, It is surprising that the Court of Chancery does not receive many more ap- plications than are already made, and there is no doubt thai when the ease with which inquiries can be made and rights established, through Messr». Cox and agencv, Í9 known, the number of those who secure what only awaits application from the rightful owners will be greatly ineretned." ENORMOUS FORTUNES LIE BURIED in the COUHT of CHANCERY, amounting tn lOO,OOO,OOO, which really belong to the people, including all classes of the community, from the peer to the peasant, WE EARNESTLY ENTBEATEViSRYONE to send to Messrs. COX and CO., and obtain their list of Christian aud Surnames in full of the 50,000 persons to whom all this vast wealth belongs. Price Is. 6d.-poiltal order. And if they find their names, or those of any ancestors, they should obey the instructions it contains. A fortune may await them. 8578c Is Youk CHILD III.—If so, try Williams's Poot- ardawe Worm Lozene9, which have been in use over twenty years, and eclipsed all other rtmedies. Sold by most chemists, at and 2s. J. Prepared from the original recipe only by J. Duvies, ChemUt, 30, High- street, Swansea- The Lotenges are agreeable and con- tain nothing injurious. 8621c
ONCE AN ALDERMAN ALWAYS AN…
ONCE AN ALDERMAN ALWAYS AN ALDERMAN. [By SENEX.] The readers of the Cardiff Times may perhaps remember having read in that paper many years ago, long before the proprietor of it had any con- ception that he would one day be a member of the Cardiff Corporation, a leading article condemning the practice of re-electing the same member of the corporation as alderman at every successive elec- tion, until the phrase grew into a kind of proverb Once an alderman always an alderman." But what was then complained of as an act of injustice to many good men is now rigidly followed by those who are, but who were not then, in authority. Reference was also made to the fact that by the Municipal Act aldermen need not bo selected from the members of the Town Council, as is now the invariable rule, but that it would be well for the corporation to look about them and confer the honour, as it came round once in six years, upon men who would be a credit to the Town Council, but who refused to undergo the turmoil and bustle of a contested election, or, agtin.thc honour could be conferred on men who had been in some way benefactors to the town. The CorpD- ration of London did not come under the Borough Reform Act, and there an alderman is alderman for life, but the Legislature, in limiting the period of election for aldermen to six years, evidently intended that the same person should not hold the office in perpetuity in pro- vincial towns. There is much in this that should commend itself to the corporation at the present moment, as there can be no better means of keeping up the status and influence of a public body than selecting for the highest positions in it those most fitted to fill them, or to bestow them as rewards for meri- torious services. The death of Mr. Alderman Stone affords an opportunity for breaking through the old style of selecting the senior member of the corporation, no matter who he may be or that he has done nothing to distinguish him- self for the position of alderman, when vacancies arise. Under the existing regime the distinction will be conferred on Mr. Robert Bird. Mr. Alfred Thomas's name appears on the list as first, but he will, under present circumstances, waive his claim. Now, there are reasons why Mr. Bird should not be elected alderman. In the ordinary course of events he would retire from the Town Council next November. He represents the Roa.th VVard, but the position he took with regard to Wells' Charity scandal and his active partiz in- ship of Mr. Wheatlev, in opposition to the wishes of those whom he represented, have caused con- siderable unpleasantness among the working classes in that ward, and in all probability he will not be re-elect-ed next November. By making him an alderman he will remain a member of the Town Council another four years, in opposition, there- fore, to the wishes of a large number of the rate- payers, who, though Liberal in politics, expressed theirentire approbation at. the conduct ot Councillor Beavan upon this question. Mr Bird was elected a member of the Cardiff Corporation in 1875, but it would be difficult ta refer to anything in con- nection with municipal matters in which he has distinguisned himself. I do not remember any question in winch he took a prominent part except the question of the Wells' Chlritv scandal. He has been once mayor, and owing, no doubt, to party influence, he has been made a borough magistrate. Why, therefore, should this additional honour be conferred upon him? Are there not tnatiy men who have done fur more for the town, but on whom no honour has been conferred? j Years ago the Cardiff Corporation was composed of ;.nen of influence-men who had assisted in making Cardiff what it is to-day as a commercial port. When any great social movement is pro- moted now who, among the members of the cor- poration, besides the Mayor, is included in it. This was not ilways thp. ease. Then, again, the interests of the town demand that, to as great an extent, as possible, the representatives of large undertakings should be associated with the other members in the government of the town. At one time Mr Geortre Fisher, the general manager of the Taff Vale Railway, was a member of the Cardiff Town Council, but he resigned because of the annoyances and unplexsantness of a contested election Ha ) he made an alderman, in all probability the connection between the corporation and the Taff Vale Railway Company would have been preserved. Next to Lord Bute's rlocks. there i no more important undertaking affect ing the interest of the town than the Taff Vale Railway. Had this connection been preserved the difficul- ties arising from the toll proposed to be levied on the Granyetown new road would never have cropped up. or. if they had, the remedy could at once have been made known and applied. There is scarcelv an important undertaking in the town the interests of which will not at times clash with those of the corporation, and it is to the advantage of the ratepayers that, the representatives of these undertakings should b3 united with the ratepayers in the government of the town. There is, besides, a prestige, which is now lost to the corporation, in having utnong its mem- bers men who are large employers of labour, or men whosa commercial status gives weight and influence to their proceed- il1' falling iiff in the standard which the Cardiif Corporation had at one time attained is entirely due to political strife—a ptiife which has been for some time the very curse of Cardiff, and which has led represent.u.:ive8, officials, servants:, and everyone connected with the corporation to be selected, not from the abilities they possessed, bllt from the political principles they professed. The present is a fittin opportunity when u change might be made in the manner of selecting aldermen, and 30 bring into the corporation men to whom the ratepayers could look with respect, men whose position in life entitle them to our regard, whose judgment would be highly valued, but who would refuse to accept a seat in the council to gain which thev had to pass throueh the trouble of a contest. By dividing the governing body of a town into two classes, aldermen and councillors, the one elected by the people and the other elected by the people's representatives, the Legislature, without doubt, intended that the one body should be clected outside of the other. An alderman is one of a class of municipal officers ranking in dignity above the councillors and below the mayor in the boroughs of England and Wales." Neither mayor nor alderman need, therefore, be snli cted from the body of councillors. In Ireland, while the councillors are elected by the people, the aldermen are elected by the distinguished citizens or burgesses. In Scotland the alderman or baillie exercises magisterial fu nctions and all this points to the fact that to select the one class from the other is in contravention of the spirit of the Act, and there never was a time in the history of Cardiff when it was more necessary to revert to what was intended by the Borough- Reform Act. The Town Council will in a few days be called together to elect a successor to the late Alderman Stone. Let them look round and see if there are not men outside the council whom they would gladly see among them. I am perfectly certain that such a course would meet with the entire approval of the ratepayers.
THE WESLEY AN CONFERENCE.
THE WESLEY AN CONFERENCE. ELECTION OF PRESIDENT. The Wesleyan Conference commenced on Tuesday morning at the City-road Chapel. London, at half- past nine o'clock. The retiring President, the Rev. Richard Roberts, was accompanied on the plat- form by the following ex-presidents: Dr. Greaves. Dr. Rigg, Revs. Alexander M'Dulay, Chas. Parrelt, Thomas M'Cullagh, and Ebenezer Jen- kins; also by Bishop Frost, of the United States Dr. Sutherland, of Canada; and the Rev. J. Walton of South Africa. About 800 ministers were pre- sent. The proceedings commenced with devo- tional exercises, after which vacancies in the legal conference were filled up. The election of presi- dent was then proceeded with. The principal voting at present is as follows Dr. Robert Newton Young. 348 John Walton 65 Joseph Bush 47 B Hellier 3) Marshall Randies 22 1 The election of Dr. Newton Young to the presi- dency having been confirmed by the Legal Con- ference, the now ex-President said I declare the Rev. Dr. Robert Newton Young to be duly elected the president of the Conference.—The election of the secretary was then taken, with the following result:-Waller, 217 Bush, 149; Stephenson, 139 Clapham, 26.—The retiring president, introducing his successor to the chair, said Dr. Young was the first president they had had who was the son of a former president. He then handed over the insignia of office, including the conference seal, Wesley's Bible, &c.—The President then thanked the conference for his election, and expressed a determination to serve his brethren to the best of his ability.-Dr. Waller next acknowledged his election as secretary. The Wesleyan Conference was resumed at the City-road Chapel, London, on Wednesday, when the vacancies in the Hundred were filledi by the selection of the Revs. G. Alton, F. Kellett., and J. D. Powell. The conference thanked the ex-president and other officers for their services. A deputation from the Methodist Episcopal Church of America was introduced and welcomed. It was decided to hold the next conference at Manchester. A letter was read from the Wesleyan ministers in the South of Italy greeting the conference. Various notices of motion were given, and the conference adjourned.
FUNERAL OF MRS. OLL1VANT.
FUNERAL OF MRS. OLL1VANT. The funeral of the lute Mrs. Ollivtrt, wife of the late Bishop of Llandaff, took place at Llandaff Cathedral on Tuesday. Tha deceased lady w. hi-ld in high esteem by a very largo circle of friends and acquaintances with whom she had come in contact during a long and active lifo in tho diocese. At two o'clock a large number of the laity and clergy assembled in the churchyard to pay her a lust tribute of respect and take part in the solemn ceremony The chief mourners were Major (illivant, Mr. R. A. Ollivant, tlr. J. E. Ollivant, Mr. and Miss Welby, and Mr. Humphrey (Penllyne Castle). Amongst the other friends of the decoaaed were the Bishop of Llandaff, the Dean, Bishop Perry, Archdeacon Gritiiths, Canons Hawkins, Edwards, and Bruce, Rev: Edmondcs (Cowbridge), G. Wood, Vincent Saultz, G. A. Jones, J. Pritchard, Jenkins (Caer- philly), Messrs. J. H. Insole (Ely Court), Jonas ",at;or, Lyneli-Blosse, A. Lewis, C. Waldron. Miss Watson, and the Misses Rous (Court-y-R*lla). The procession, headed by the coffin, left the Cathedra] gates a little after two o'clock, and wng recfivod into the sacred building by the Very Rfv. the Dean, who conducted the service. The coffin which was covered with numerous wreaths hnd crosses, was afterwards lowered into the grave, j A prayer was then offered up by the Archdeacon of Monmouth, and after the choir had nung & hymn the Bishop pronounced the Buuedielion, and the gathering dispersed. I
CURRENT AGRICULTURAL TOPICS.
CURRENT AGRICULTURAL TOPICS. I Br "AamcoLA" OF THE "FIELD."] General expectations were fulfilled in the recep- tion given by the Prince of Wales to agriculturists at Sandringham proving a grand affair. The scene was a magnificent one, alike in the luncheon tent and at the sale ring, which those who witnessed it will never forget. The prince had evidently every desire to make use of the opportunity for ingra- tiating himself still more thoroughly into the regard of the agricultural community, and nothing could be more gracious than the way in which be intimated in his speech at the banquet that the Princess of Wales and the other members of his family cordially joined with him in heartily wel- coming the numerous ascembly to their Norfolk home. The number which sat down to this banquet was said to be 12,00, and its cost to be £500, The returns from the auction, although good, would not, of course, justify one-fifth of ruch vast expenditure, but the priace had his reward in the evidence the result afforded of how very popular be is with the farming community, and the enthusiastic cheers raised in his honour must have been peculiarly grateful to him. One topic raised by tho Prince of Wales in his speech at the banquet deserves special montion. He said he felt deeply for those farmers who had been injured seriously by the bad times, making use emphatically of the expression, u God grant they may But he did more than tnir ly making the allusion a standpoint for thu ad^o^sey of the Agricultural Benevolent Association, point- ing out how necessary it seems that a sockty for relieving decayed farmers, and the widows of such, jhould receive more guner>1 and at.ron;r support than ever now that the t'uin which hat overtaken such large numbers of the; claatt r»nderr, dClDands on its funds so vi1ry rr¡:(\iu. That the Prince should have seized on this oppor- tunity to advance so noble an inftitution only proves the largeness of his heart, and will, prr-baps, do more than even his hearty reception to farmers in all parts of the kingdom to regard with still warmer feelings than before. The Agricul- Lural Benevolent Association is an institution which "as already saved a good number of deserving men and women from a great deal of misery, but it might be made ten times as beneficent if the appeal of the prince be responded to. In Norfolk the barley crops appear more prom- ising than wheat, and are likely to corn, fit, for harvesting first. In the poor sandy district bor- dering on the fens the young coru has been very much burnt up, and there are many fields likel." to yield very little corn wiiatovor On the bett*v Norfolk soils, as well an thu Cambridgeshire fens, many of tho crops ara huavy, nnd Lhoni Is likely to b., a gojd average yield. Not only horo, but throughout iSngl'Utd, however, lIl" yiulda may be expoetcd to vary vory yionuy, nul only futuoriling to the nuturu ot tho soil, but th" kind of m tuajjn- meat which haa boon puranod, 111 IrMVolling through tho country ovon njj lining farms display noSl Striking conl liiatti, many wlmat ftoldo with tiiin plant boing literally cluiUad on 1.1111 fllt.nd. with rod poppy, and on tho eluya with chmlock Ci 10 grain harvest, willlllJolI ooitlinonc In lit" unwl ■orward districts, the harluya "von of doop, good soili in Norfolk turning off rapidlv. Never probably have summer rains dono more good than those which fell last for tha pasture, fields in some districts wern beginning 1,0 i>9 burnt up, and grass wan ge tmg scanty every- where. Turnips, ton, weru much in want of rain, lod farmers w"re fearing that Jl", sown turnips would provj a failure. Now tliu situation ha* much improved, and this wiil tend to support the values of sheep ve v much. Tu root crops *»v<»ry- whore look better than they did last year, and tho < ui nip crop is not likely to prove a* .ouudU'1t an I yielding as it was Jdfecivo yaar. I Oespite ad wo: h-araLout the low prices of stock being attributable to want of ttjuiie_. in tho Jwis of farmers, w« s i^ald soon find ru of (ltrri animals rise very tiigu if a plethora ,.i turnips were experienced in the autumn. As regard* co growing, tho era of remunerative prices seems I altogether past, never pernaps to return in Eng- land except as the insult of famine or a European war. Stock-1'rerfdi.ig recurl1; on tho contrary, "rtl likely to vary as macii heretofore, being influ- enced by many circumstances, such as the titaie of the meat market thtl returns obtainable for dairy produce, and, more t.ian anything else, by tha plentituue or scarcity of keep. E¡r.,f} the prdigrOu stock market has probably touched the bottom of depreciated rates,and prices ara "likely to bu beUtr rather than worse in future. Many lessons were to be learnod on tho Royal Agricultural Society's show ground hut week. The factstared one in the face that popular breeds in the Eastern Counties are different to thoso in miny parts of England. It was a great surprise to many to find the Usses for Red Polled ctttie so numerously filled,but in many parts of Suffolk and Norfolk this variety is verv much brd, and deemed a rent paying one. The Red Polls combino dairying to grazing proDerty fairly well, and tnc inimals will live where larger one- would st&rve, a feature they have in common with the North Devons, and th-y might almost be termed tho Devons of the East if they were not hornless. dufbli sheep also gave a surprise to those unacquainted with the great improvement which has taken place in them during the past twenty years. Thr breeders have formed themselves into a flock book association, and seem determined to bring Suffolk sheep into popularity if possible. They have a great deal, however, yet to effect ere they can be mad eaual to the Hampshire, which they most resemble. That they are extremely hardy "oJ prolific no ono can doubt, and thereby well ndapted to the poorer soils of the Eastern Countie<, but that they are equal to the Hampshiro, or evet. Shropshire, for early maturity no ono will venture to assume. Consequently in fertile districts the two breeds last mentioned would everywhere bo pre- ferred to the Suffolk. The last mentioned variety of sheep has recently been taken into favour by the Royal Agricultural Society, » circumstance which forcibly calla to remembrance the fact that only a fow year: since neither Hampshires, Oxfordohires, Shropshire, or Lmcolns had any place for the soles of their feet in the show-yards of the Royal unless exhibited in the miscellaneous ranks open to all breeds not specially provided for. When the Royal Agricultural Society last visited Norwich, in 1849, Southdowns and Leicesters were considered tho only pure-bred varieties for which it was necessary to provide I special classes. One by ono breeds which hid become much moro popular than these bar. attained a standing at the summer shows-, after hard fights on the part of their breeders, until I those left out in the cold have become somewhat limited. There were not many sheep curiosities at Norwich. I Vhe latest pig variety which tho council of th. Royal delighteth to honour is th? Farnworth, a good oue for bacon production no doubt, but (■robably not largely propagated, except i SOlnl) ijp.rts of Warwickshirs. Latterly Mr. Allender, oi the lyl^sbur/ Dairy Company, takan them in hand, aud it is wholly owing to his influence' that they have hod a aeparato department "Uott.1 thorn in the Royal showynrds. The enou. of Farnworth boar used to bt wdl nigh Ii. yard Jon" and bp wai Altogether a rough, unfrainlv tello*' store resembling a wild bo. r than a domurticate- p; £ This; has beon ] OT* very much altorod, wo arc to fiJie the specimens which oftored themselves to public inspection in tho Norwich ihowyard as evidence of how they are bred generally. Snouts and bones have been alike reduced,aud the animals now exemplify considerable quality and symmetry in combination with large size. As ouo reason why th" Royal should continue to sapport their c»«imt, it is that luge orders, more than cau be supplied, come to hand from fotvigr. countries for Yénng boars and sows. Thi;, at least, is the experience o. Mr. Jlllendcr, who is about to ex:«fa.i the hord of the Aylesbury Dairy Comply to 2a breeding sows of the Farn worth breed. I hav* much more faith in another of Mr. A Bender's stock projects, that ot founding t Jar, herd of Kerry in These diminutive tnim"fs are not only very hardy, but arc milkers, while subsist on the commoner fure and tho shortest pastures. Ot the sides of tht Irish mountains they have always coi- oidered cottagers'cow;, although thosv probably so t-hapdy as the hoiutiiul Dexter vari.iy which Mr. Robertson's exhibits have fimili«..ria<-i? our eye- with. He had ct Norwich n b>f.ut,iful deep, compact, well shaped heifer, with a cll>f1eil)' udder, called Silene, which was awarded a 6oco»»J prize. No doubt if the tests were applied, tiitf Kerry would be found to yield more milk for food consumed than almost any other cow. If so i&i\ Altander cannot be f:tr wrong in his enterprise, "e regards introducing them into Sussex, •fliers it is intended his K-srry herd shall .numbsi OLt, hundred Accurate tests as to the yield of milk for food consumed are much wanted, nnd the crmncii of the British Dairy Assomati™ eliouid take LOte of this.