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diff --git a/43658.txt b/43658.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8355c4d..0000000 --- a/43658.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6981 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Quiver, by Anonymous - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Quiver 3/1900 - -Author: Anonymous - -Release Date: September 6, 2013 [EBook #43658] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUIVER 3/1900 *** - - - - -Produced by Delphine Lettau, Julia Neufeld and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -The Quiver 3/1900 - -[Illustration: (_Drawn by Percy Tarrant._) - -EASTER BLOSSOMS.] - - - - -THE CENTENARY OF THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY. - -By the Rev. A. R. Buckland, M.A., Morning Preacher at the Foundling -Hospital. - - -At "The Castle and Falcon," in Aldersgate Street, on April 12th, -1799, there met, in all the solemnity of a public gathering, sixteen -clergymen and nine laymen. - -They founded there and then the Church Missionary Society for -Africa and the East. That Society keeps its Centenary this month; -no longer an inconspicuous organisation expressing the hopes of a -godly few, but a great Society which has girdled the earth with -its missions. When, in November, 1898, its Estimates Committee -surveyed its position, they found that its roll included the names -of 802 European missionaries, of whom 295 were ladies, whilst, of -the 802, no fewer than eighty-four were serving altogether or in -part at their own expense. Some of them represented the missionary -enthusiasm of Australia and Canada; a fair proportion were duly -qualified medical workers, men and women. - -[Illustration: MRS. J. A. BAILEY. - -(_The first lady missionary of the Society._)] - -With the exception of South America, there is no considerable -quarter of the globe in which they are not represented. They may be -found ministering to Esquimaux within the Arctic Circle, and to the -Indians of the vast expanses of Canada; they are shepherding the -Maoris of New Zealand; in India their stations may be discovered -alike amongst the wild tribes of the northern frontier, the strange -aboriginals found here and there in the continent, and the milder -races of the south; in Africa the Society begins in Egypt, but -goes no farther south than Uganda, though it is both on the east -coast and the west; it is strongly represented along the coasts of -China, as well as in the inland province of Sze-Chuen; it works both -amidst the Japanese themselves and that strange people the hairy -Ainu; it is domiciled in Ceylon and Mauritius; it has not forgotten -Persia. From Madagascar it has retired, and it has shown a wise -indisposition to enter upon new fields whilst the old are still -insufficiently manned. It has ever been known for the strictness -with which it observes the comity of missions; and it may fairly be -said that the zeal with which its friends have worked in behalf of -foreign missions has reacted on all the missionary agencies which -have their origins in Great Britain, as well as upon some which -express the zeal of America and the Colonies. - - From Greenland's icy mountains, - From India's coral strand - Where Afric's sunny fountains - Roll down their golden sand, - - From many an ancient river - From many a palmy plain - They call us to deliver - Their land from error's chain - - What though the spicy breezes - Blow soft o'er Ceylon's Isle - Though every prospect pleases - And only man is vile? - - In vain, with lavish kindness, - The gifts of God are strown - The heathen in his blindness - Bows down to woods and stone! - -[Illustration: BISHOP HEBER'S MISSIONARY HYMN. - -(_Facsimile of part of the Original MS._)] - -The Church Missionary Society was really one of the fruits of the -Evangelical Revival, though when the Society was born that movement -was no longer young. Its first leaders had passed to their rest; -it was their successors amongst whom the Church Missionary Society -took its origin. They were, as history judges them, no mean persons, -though in their own day they fell, for their religious zeal, under -the condemnation of polite society, whether ecclesiastical or social. - -[Illustration: THE BOARD ROOM AT THE MISSION HOUSE.] - -That meeting in Aldersgate Street did not include some of those to -whom the foundation of the Church Missionary Society must directly -be referred; but, if we look at the circle they represented, we -shall find that it was one of rare distinction in the religious -history of the country. It included William Wilberforce, Zachary -Macaulay, Charles Grant, James Stephen, and Henry Thornton on the -lay side; Charles Simeon, John Newton, Thomas Scott, Richard Cecil, -and William Goode amongst the clergy. The impulse which moved -them was moving others, for the Baptist Missionary Society had -been founded by Carey in 1793, and the London Missionary Society -in 1795. The Religious Tract Society also began its existence in -this year 1799, and the Bible Society was founded in 1804. It was -a fruitful epoch. Yet it has to be remembered that it began under -ecclesiastical discouragement, and amidst such popular contempt of -missions to the heathen as was reflected in Sydney Smith's essay. - -I do not propose to trace in detail the history of the Church -Missionary Society: within the space of a magazine article such an -attempt could do little more than produce a list of names and dates. -It may be more useful, as well as more interesting, to look at some -of the Society's great workers at home, at some of its heroes in -the mission-field, and at some of the romances which diversify its -history. - -[Illustration: THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY'S MISSION HOUSE, -SALISBURY SQUARE.] - -Of the men who helped to found the Church Missionary Society the -first place must be given to Charles Simeon. He was not at "The -Castle and Falcon" meeting, but it was he who, at the gathering of -the Eclectic Society in March of the same year, when missionary -plans were again under discussion, urged immediate action. "There -is not a moment to be lost," he said; "we have been dreaming these -four years, while all Europe is awake." The precise old bachelor, -fellow of his college at Cambridge, and incumbent of Holy Trinity -Church in that town, was not a person easily daunted by obstacles. -As an Evangelical he had had to face the most strenuous opposition -in his own parish. But he had been deeply stirred by plans and hopes -for missionary work in India; he was the friend and mentor of Henry -Martyn. He was able in time to wield at Cambridge an influence -which the late Bishop Christopher Wordsworth compared to that of -Newman at Oxford. Later generations somehow came to think of him -as something other than a Churchman; but they were quite wrong. A -careful scrutiny of Simeon's works, letters, and diaries will show -that he was consistently loyal to his Church and her formularies. -Of his influence upon foreign missions it is difficult to speak in -exaggeration; but one or two illustrations may serve to show its -extent. Henry Martyn was the first Englishman who offered to go -out under the Church Missionary Society. But Simeon was especially -anxious about India, and so Martyn went there as "Chaplain." His -brief work in Persia, the example of his singularly beautiful -character, and the swift end of so promising a career, still -influence the minds of young and old. And the influence of Martyn, -is, in a sense, the influence of Simeon. Less popularly known than -Henry Martyn, but in some respects of wider power, were the others -of the famous "Five Chaplains" who went out to India, the fruits of -Simeon's zeal for that land. These men left an indelible mark upon -the English in India during their time, and did much to prepare -the way of the missionary. Thus Claudius Buchanan helped more than -any other man to create the public opinion which opened India to -missionaries, and led to the consecration of the first bishop for -all India, the Bishop of Calcutta. Thomas Thomason was the father -of James Thomason, who, as Lieutenant-Governor of the North-West -Provinces, ruled (and taught others to rule) in the fear of God, and -with the warmest sympathy for missionary enterprise. Through him, -when the Punjab was annexed in 1849, it felt the influence which had -flowed from the rooms of Charles Simeon at Cambridge. - -[Illustration: SECRETARIES of the CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY - - REV THOMAS SCOTT 1799-1802 - (L. COSSA% pinxt) - - REV. JOSIAH PRATT 1802-1824 - (H. WYATT pinxt) - - REV. E. BICKERSTETH 1824-1830 - (ALEX. MOSSES pinxt) - - REV. WILLIAM JOWETT 1832-1840 - - REV HENRY VENN 1841-1872 - (G RICHMOND R. A. pinxt) - - REV HENRY WRIGHT - 1872-1880 - - REV F E WIGRAM 1880-1895 - (PHOTO ELLIOTT & FRY) - - REV H E FOX appointed 1895 - (PHOTO ELLIOTT & FRY) - - Robert A Shield 99 -] - -The name of Edward Bickersteth seems a natural succession to that of -Simeon. The influence of both is still unexhausted. When the Church -Missionary Society kept its second Jubilee in November, 1898, the -sermon was preached by Bishop E. H. Bickersteth, the son of Edward -Bickersteth. And the influence had been wider than the limits of -any one Society, for Bishop Edward Bickersteth, of Japan, who died -in 1897, represented another generation in this line of truly -apostolic succession. - -Edward Bickersteth had been a solicitor in prosperous circumstances -when zeal for missions led him to take holy orders, and join the -Church Missionary Society as Assistant Secretary in 1816. Almost -at once he was sent to examine the Society's work at Sierra Leone. -There he admitted the Society's first African converts to the Holy -Communion. In 1824 he succeeded Josiah Pratt in the Secretaryship -of the Society. He was never an autocrat in the sense that Henry -Venn was; but his work for the Society in the country was enormous. -It has ceased to be the kind of work which is mainly done by the -Honorary Secretary of the Society, but at that period it was work -which was of inestimable value. It was the more important because -public opinion at home still presented a front of mingled contempt -and indifference to missions, whilst abroad the outlook was far from -hopeful. - -[Illustration: - - ZENANA WORK. BIBLE SELLING IN EASTERN BAZAARS. - - TEACHING THE YOUNG. - - LECTURING TO CHINESE HELPERS. ITINERATING THROUGH THE VILLAGES. - - SOME METHODS OF WORK. -] - -A greater figure than that of Edward Bickersteth in the annals of -the Church Missionary Society is that of Henry Venn. Here, too, -the name appears in more than one generation. The first Henry -Venn belongs, with Wesley, Whitfield, Romaine and others, to the -beginnings of the Evangelical Revival. Then comes John Venn, -who took the chair at "The Castle and Falcon" meeting. Then, in -1834, Henry Venn the younger, the son of John Venn and grandson -of the first Henry Venn, began regularly to attend the Society's -Committee. He was Hon. Secretary in 1841, and held office for -thirty-one years. He is the standard by which, doubtless, for -generations to come, Hon. Secretaries of the Church Missionary -Society will be compared. He was a strong man in every sense; a -statesman and an autocrat. But, like some other autocrats, he clung -to his work too long. He resigned only a few months before his -death, and left the Society in a condition of discouragement, from -the failure both of candidates for the mission field and of means -for carrying on the work. Under his successor, Henry Wright (who -was drowned in Coniston Lake in 1880), the Society began almost at -once to enter upon new life and activity. Here again the hereditary -influence, so manifest in the work of the Church Missionary Society, -is evident, for four of his children went to the mission field. -His successor, Frederic Wigram, was one of the most munificent -benefactors the Society ever had. He died, after resigning office, -worn out by its responsibility and toil. He, too, has sent children -to the mission-field. In his successor, the Rev. H. E. Fox, the -hereditary impulse is manifest again. Mr. Fox's father was one of -the founders of the Society's Telugu mission, and one of the most -devoted of its workers in the foreign field. - -And now let us glance for a moment at some of the Society's agents -abroad. The task of selection is difficult. There are names on -the list that all men who care for missions have heard of. Samuel -Marsden, Samuel Crowther, Valpy French, Pfander, John Horden, James -Hannington, Alexander Mackay--these, to name but a few, and many -others, are familiar far outside the limits of the Society's own -friends. But there are more, less widely known, whose work deserves -not a whit less to be had in remembrance. - -[Illustration: (_From Photo: supplied by the Church Missionary -Society._) - -CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY'S TRAINING COLLEGE AT AGRA. - -(_With students in foreground._)] - -Amongst these was William Johnson, one of the first missionaries to -Sierra Leone. He went out in 1816, and began an extraordinary work -amongst the slaves released by British cruisers and landed at Sierra -Leone. He died on the voyage home to England at the early age of -thirty-four. Those were the days in which to face work in Sierra -Leone meant facing a peril so imminent that each volunteer needed -the courage of those who go upon a forlorn hope. - -There was William Williams, first a surgeon and then, after -graduating at Oxford, ordained for work in the Colonies. He went -to New Zealand in 1825, when its people were a race of cannibals, -not one of whom professed Christianity. He lived to see the whole -country more or less fully evangelised. His wife died as recently as -1896, and his son, baptised in 1829 with the children of one of the -most savage of the Maori chiefs, became Bishop of Waiapu in the land -the father did so much to open up. William Williams had a brother, -Henry Williams, who preceded him in the field. So great was the -influence he won that, on the news of his death reaching two Maori -camps, in which rival tribes were preparing to meet in battle, they -at once proclaimed a truce, attended his funeral, and settled their -differences in peace. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: G. P. Abraham, Keswick._) - -MR. EUGENE STOCK. - -(_Editorial Secretary of the Society._)] - -[Illustration: (_From Photo: supplied by the Church Missionary -Society._) - -THE LIBRARY AT THE MISSION HOUSE.] - -There was Ludwig Krapf, whose name, with that of John Rebmaun, -should ever be joined with the origins of our growing empire -in Eastern Equatorial Africa. He began his missionary work in -Abyssinia, had to leave as the result of French intrigues, sailed -down the East African coast in an Arab boat, and in 1844 settled -at Mombasa. From the knowledge of the interior gained by Krapf and -his companion, came the chain of African discovery which issued, -as long afterwards as 1875, in the publication, through Mr. H. M. -Stanley, of Mtesa's appeal for missionaries for Uganda. How little -could Krapf ever have dreamed of the vast results, political as well -as spiritual, that would flow from that early disappointment, his -expulsion from Abyssinia! - -There was David Hinderer, who, upon the other side of Africa, did -so striking a work in the Yoruba country. The prosperity of his -evangelistic labours, the virtual imprisonment in which he and his -wife--half-starved and in deadly peril--were for five years in the -town of Ibadan, and the ultimate discovery that their work stood the -severe tests of isolation and persecution, go to make up one of the -most interesting chapters in the history of African missions. - -There was George Maxwell Gordon, the pilgrim-missionary of the -Indian frontier, a pioneer who saw little direct fruit of his -labours, yet left missions where none had been. Acting as chaplain -to the British forces shut up in Kandahar, he was killed, when -seeking to succour the wounded, in August, 1880. - -But this is a list that might be almost indefinitely extended, and -still would seem invidious. Let us come to some striking pages in -the Society's history; again, of necessity, passing by many of the -most impressive as well as some of the most familiar. - -The city of Peshawur, upon the Afghan frontier, has long been a -centre of missionary work. The fanaticism of the people when it -was first occupied by British troops seemed to make missionary -enterprise impossible. One Commissioner--he afterwards fell by -the hand of an assassin--refused permission for missionaries to -come, on the ground that they would excite the fanaticism of the -people to a dangerous pitch. The arrival of Herbert Edwardes -changed the situation. A meeting of English people, military and -civil, was called in Peshawur itself; a sum of AL3,000 was raised, a -memorial sent to the Church Missionary Society, and, in response, -missionaries provided. Here is an example of what is so often -forgotten by critics of Indian missions, that they in a large -measure owe their origin and support to men actually or formerly -engaged in the administration of India. The Church Missionary -Society has been peculiarly happy in the number of men of high -distinction in the Army and the Civil Service who have served on -its Committee. Now from the Punjab men are pushing still farther -afield; Quetta has long been occupied, and the medical missionary -has found a welcome from the Afridis themselves. - -Let us take another mission founded in answer to an appeal from -without, and that an appeal from a layman. People who recall the -missionary meetings of a generation ago will remember that no -more thrilling story was told at them than the history of William -Duncan's early work amongst the Tsimshean Indians of the North -Pacific coast. It was a marvellous example of courage, tact, and -patience, rewarded by the conversion of savages of a singularly -unapproachable type. It was a naval officer, Captain Prevost, who -suggested that mission to the Society, carried Mr. Duncan thither, -and landed him at Fort Simpson in 1857. In ten years' time he had -baptised nearly three hundred adult converts. In 1862 the Christian -community was moved to Metlakahtla, where the spectacle of a -cannibal and violent people living in peace and industry was long -deemed one of the marvels of missionary enterprise. - -I pass by such striking histories as those of Uganda, of the attempt -of J. A. Robinson and Graham Wilmot Brooke to reach the Soudan from -the Niger, and of the massacre of English women at Hwa-Sang in -Fuh-kien, to recall romances of another kind. What could be more -moving than the careers of some of the Society's converts? Is there -any more striking history of its kind than that of the Rev. Dr. -Imad-ud-din, a learned Mohammedan, who had sought the peace of God -by every available means, and at last found it in Christ? Or what -would they who distrust converts say to the career of that once -notorious Border bandit, Dilawar Khan, baptised in 1858, who served -as an officer in the Guides, and died in Chitral whilst in the -service of the British Government? - -But it is time to leave these things and to speak of some aspects of -the Society's work which concern all missionary enterprise. - -[Illustration: "IN THE UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE EARTH." - -(_The peoples amongst whom the C.M.S. Missionaries are now -working._)] - -Twice in its career the Church Missionary Society has definitely -committed itself to a policy of faith as it has committed itself to -sending out all who offer and are found qualified. It is a policy -which, judged by the most secular standard, must be accounted -a success. The growth of its staff in recent years, under this -system, has been most striking. The Society has had its periods -of stagnation and disappointment; at times its directors have -felt driven to retrenchment. Thus in 1859 the number of European -missionaries on its roll was 226; ten years later it was only 228. -But, whereas in 1889 the number was 360, in 1898 it had risen to -802. During the first ten years the Society sent out five agents; -in the ten years ending with its Jubilee the number was 119; in -the nine years ending 1898 it reached 719. The income of 1848 was -AL92,823; the income of 1898 was AL331,598. Its latest statistics show -that there are about 240,000 natives associated with its missions, -and of late it would seem that its clergy baptise on an average -about twenty adult converts every day. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: A. G. Carlile, Exmouth._) - -SIR JOHN H. KENNAWAY, M.P. - -(_President of the Church Missionary Society._)] - -In this month of April all round the world--from North-West Canada -to New Zealand, from Palestine to Japan, from Central Africa to the -Indian frontier--men will be keeping the centenary of that meeting -at "The Castle and Falcon," in Aldersgate Street. For a hundred -years of work, considered in relation to the power and the wealth -and the responsibilities of our nation, there may be little to show; -but, for such as there is, men of many races, and once of many -creeds, will, with one accord, give thanks to God. - -[Illustration: THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY'S MAP OF THE WORLD. - -(_The shaded portions indicate the present-day fields of work._)] - - - - -[Illustration: THE MASTERFUL YOUNG MAN] - -_A COMPLETE STORY._ - -By Margaret Westrup, Author of "They Furriners," Etc. - - -He stopped in the shade of the high old wall and listened. - -A smile shone in his blue eyes as the sweet, childish voice sounded -clear and high in the still, scented air. - -"What now, Jeannette, shall the mistress of Ancelles fall in love -like an ordinary mortal, then?" - -There was mischief in the pretty voice, but there was pride, too. - -"But yes, mamzelle! Love comes to all--high and low--and spares no -one its pangs." - -"Pangs? Ah, bah! it shall have no pangs for me!" - -"Ah, mamzelle! do not be rash." - -"How will it take me, Jeannette? Tell me, that I may be prepared. -Will it come like a fiery dart to my bosom, bringing a light to my -eyes, and a colour of roses to my cheeks? Or will it take me sadly, -rendering my cheek pale and my spirits low? Tell me, Jeannette." - -"Not the last way, mamzelle"--the voice was slow now--"for you are -too proud." - -"You are right, Jeannette, I am too proud! 'Tis not I who must be -pale and afraid. 'Tis the other. Love must come to me humble and -suing--to be glad or sorry at my will. Is it not so, Jeannette?" - -"How should I know, mamzelle?"--sadly--"I dread its coming at all." - -"Bah! what matters it? And why should it come? I, for one, do not -want---- Ah! do not scream so, Jeannette--it is a man--he is hurt." - -The man scrambled to his feet, and tried to bow, but his face was -ghastly. - -"I beg your--pardon----" - -"You are hurt, monsieur. Do not try to apologise. Jeannette, help -him to the house. Follow me." - -The man leant on Jeannette's stout shoulder, and followed the -stately little figure through the sunny, twisting paths, sweet and -rich with their wealth of roses, up to the old chActeau with its -narrow windows gleaming in the sunshine. - -"Here, Jeannette," said the little mistress of the roses and the -chActeau. "Monsieur, you will rest on the sofa." - -He obeyed the wave of the small white hand and lay down. - -"Jeannette, send for Dr. Raunay." - -Jeannette departed. - -The man opened his blue eyes. - -"I am so sorry----" - -"You must not speak," eyeing him with grave, dark eyes. "You will -keep quiet till the doctor comes." - -He submitted. - -Jeannette returned immediately. - -"Are you thirsty?" asked his little hostess gently. - -"No--thank you." - -"You want for nothing?" - -"No, thank you." - -She sat down and waited. - -Then later--"Jeannette, lower the blinds. Make no noise." - -"Thank you," said the man. - -"Do not speak!"--frowning. - -He smiled a little. - -"Mamzelle, suppose he dies?" - -"Jeannette, how _dare_ you?" - -"But his face is white; and"--her suspicions bursting out--"how came -he to fall into mamzelle's garden?" - -"Jeannette, leave the room!" - -"That I will not! No, I will not! Jeannette knows what is owing to -her mistress, and to leave----" - -"Well, well"--quickly--"but do not dare to utter another word." - -Jeannette mumbled rebelliously, but retired to a corner vanquished. - -The man opened his eyes as a soft wave of air was wafted across his -face. - -A pair of soft, dark eyes looked down pityingly into his. - -He shut his own with a murmured word of thanks, and let her fan him. -Jeannette came ponderously across the room. - -"Mamzelle, it is not fitting----" - -"Did I not forbid you to speak?" said the haughty young voice. - -"Yes, but Jeannette knows what is due to mamzelle, and----" - -"Mademoiselle also knows." - -Something in the tone stopped the old servant's words, and once more -she retired vanquished. - -The man smiled to himself. - -Dr. Raunay came and pronounced a bad sprain of the left arm to be -the only injury the man had received. - -The doctor's sharp, black eyes were full of questions, but -Mademoiselle StA(C)phanie met his gaze calmly, indifferently, and he -dared not put one question into words. - -"Monsieur, of course, will be our guest," she said when the doctor -had taken his departure. - -The man reddened slowly under his tan. - -"I--really----" He raised himself on his right elbow. - -Jeannette eyed him with sharp suspicion. - -"Of course, you will stay," said mademoiselle, with her little -imperious air. - -"But I am quite well enough to go to an inn----" - -"There is not one within five miles, and that--well----" A little -expressive wave of the small hands and a whimsical smile finished -her sentence. - -"I do not like to trespass----" - -"It is not trespassing," with pretty warmth; "indeed, monsieur, you -must accept of our hospitality." - -"Then thank you very much." - -"And--your luggage? Is it with friends? They will be anxious--we -will send----" - -She was too courteous to ask with whom he was staying. Yet she -wondered much, for, beyond poor cottages, there were no dwellings -within many miles of Ancelles. - -"I am alone," he answered; "I have walked from B---- to-day." - -Jeannette snorted. She plainly did not believe him. B---- was thirty -and more miles distant. The suspicion in her stare grew deeper. - -"Oh," said StA(C)phanie. - -"My luggage----" He hesitated; yet what could he do without it? -"It is only a small bag--it is--er--outside your garden wall," he -finished desperately. - -"Jeannette, please see that it is fetched at once." - -No faintest spark of surprise appeared in his hostess's small face. -She seemed quite used to having strangers tumble over her wall into -her garden, quite used to luggage being left outside the wall. - -The man was distinctly amused, but he was touched too. - -An old manservant, with a faint, indescribable old-world air, that -fitted in with the chActeau and the garden and the roses somehow, -brought food to the stranger, and, after he had eaten, showed him to -his room. - -The stranger looked round him with interest. - -It was a large apartment, large and bare and old--but everything at -Ancelles was old. - -But the curtains to the bed, faded now, had once been rich and -handsome. The tapestry across the door of a smaller room leading -from the other, was still beautiful though worn with age. - -Hugh Michelhurst shivered a little as he stood there, in the dim, -dark, old-world chamber. There was something pathetic in the tale it -told of bygone splendour, something sad and forlorn. - -Then his eye fell on a bowl of vivid red roses standing on his -dressing-table, and he smiled. - -They at least were not old. Their splendour was undimmed. There was -nothing faded in their fresh, glowing beauty; and who had put them -there? - -He went closer; he bent over them and drank in their sweet scent. -And as he did it the old, sunny garden rose before him again. The -little twisting paths, the roses so thick and luxuriant that they -trespassed forward from their beds; the old broken fountain, with -the water nymph bending eternally in graceful readiness to dive, and -amongst them--the roses, the sunshine, the queer paths, and the old -fountain--the little mistress of them all, slim, childish, with soft -dark eyes, with pretty lips made for laughter, with the sun caught -in the waves of her brown hair. His hands wandered gently over the -roses as he stood and thought what a gracious little hostess she -was! How sweetly she had welcomed him, asking no questions! - -A wave of colour surged over his white face. - -But he smiled as he sank down on to a chair. - -His entry into the sweet, old-world garden had been supremely -ridiculous. Moreover, he was terribly ashamed of himself as well as -rueful. - -But his sense of humour was strong enough to save either feeling -from overpowering him. His arm began to pain him badly again. He -shut his lips tightly and sat still. - -Outside he heard a gay young voice. "It is a pity, Jeannette, that -the sun does not shine into his room now. See how glorious is its -setting to-night." - -A pause. - -Hugh Michelhurst guessed how the pause was filled by his little -hostess's mocking answer: - -"Why, Jeannette, how cross you are! And, anyway, in the morning the -sun will wake him." - -"It may rain, mamzelle." - -"Rain?" with a little burst of prettiest laughter. "Why, where are -your eyes, Jeannette? Rain? With that sky--that sunset? All, no! -Even _ma tante_ would not say that, and she always predicts rain, -you know." - -"It is her rheumatism, mamzelle; she feels it in her bones." - -"Yes," carelessly. "Jeannette, he will need assistance--how careless -I am! It is that I am so unused to entertaining a guest, and yet -once Ancelles was noted for its hospitality----" - -The pretty voice died away into the distance, and a few minutes -later there was a discreet tap at the stranger's door, and the faded -old manservant appeared, and, with an air, offered monsieur his -humble services. - - * * * * * - -Two mornings had StA(C)phanie's prophecy been fulfilled. Two mornings -the sun had wakened her guest, and now he was wondering if he dared -stay and let it wake him a third. - -"Madame ma tante" had put in an appearance once. She had welcomed -the stranger with a stiff yet courteous stateliness that was as -old-worldly as the garden and the chActeau and everything pertaining -thereto. - -She was a confirmed invalid, and, till she sallied forth to welcome -her niece's guest (Ancelles belonged to StA(C)phanie), had not left her -room for nearly two years. - -Hugh Michelhurst was duly presented, and made a favourable -impression on "Madame ma tante." In half an hour the impression had -faded. In an hour it was gone. "Madame ma tante" had forgotten his -existence. - -He was sitting now on the old, worn steps leading to the second -terrace. His right arm rested on the step above, close by his -hostess's dainty little feet. - -The air was sunny and warm, and sweet with the scent of roses. - -He wondered dreamily what had become of the world---- - -[Illustration: She smiled softly at his words. - -G. G. Manton] - -A little breeze came and scattered the rose leaves in her lap--the -soft, fragrant heap that she had gathered for _pot-pourri_--and -roused the man. - -He stooped to gather them up, but she stayed him. - -"There are plenty more," she said. - -"Yes," he said; "what a lovely old garden it is!" - -He watched the pink deepen in her cheek, and the little dimples come -and go as she smiled softly at his words. - -Then he sighed. - -"My arm is better," he said. "I"--doubtfully--"must go to-day." - -"Must you? Will you not stay a little longer? It"--wistfully--"is -nice to have a guest." - -He looked up at her with his blue eyes full of love. - -"It is good of you to say so," he said earnestly. - -"Ancelles cannot offer much," she said, with a little stately air, -"but it offers you a true welcome, monsieur, and one that will never -fail you so long as you will stay with us." - -"I have never," he said slowly, "had such a true welcome before." - -His eyes made her restless. - -She crushed the rose leaves in her hand, and scattered them abroad. - -He picked them up and kept them. - -"Do you never wonder," he said, "how I came to fall into your -garden?" - -"We are only glad that monsieur so fell, except for the sprained -arm," answered the little mistress of Ancelles. - -"I heard your voice," he said, looking up into her face. "I stood -and listened, and then--I wanted to see the owner of the voice, and -I climbed to the top of the wall and then--I fell." - -"I thought only schoolboys behaved so," she said, but her pretty -lips parted and her eyes smiled, in spite of herself. - -"If I had been a schoolboy I should not have fallen." - -"Why?" - -"Because a schoolboy does not lose his head as I did, mademoiselle." - -"And your footing, monsieur." - -"The one was an outcome of the other." - -She looked away across the sweet, smiling sunshine. - -"Monsieur"--suddenly bending her gaze upon his face--"how came you -to lose your head?" - -He glanced at her in swift surprise. He was no chicken-heart, yet -something in the proud little face made him hesitate. - -But he was proud, too. - -"Because directly my eyes fell upon you I loved you," he said -steadily. - -StA(C)phanie started to her feet. - -"Monsieur, you outrage my hospitality," she said haughtily. - -He got up and faced her. - -"Never!" he cried. "I did not mean to say it--yet, but----" - -"You insult me, monsieur!" - -"Pardon me, mademoiselle"--his tone was cool as hers now--"but the -offer of a man's heart and home can never be an insult!" - -"An honour, perhaps?" mockingly. - -"It is at least his best, mademoiselle." - -"And seemly within a two-days' acquaintanceship, monsieur?" - -Her pride, the haughty little smile curling her pretty lip, maddened -him. - -He bent towards her. - -"Seemly or unseemly," he said in low, tense tones, "you shall love -me!" - -Her dark eyes flashed. - -"I shall not, monsieur!" she cried, and shut her small teeth closely. - -With a haughty inclination of her pretty head, she left him--left -him amongst the roses, in the sunshine, but cold at heart at what he -had done. - - * * * * * - -He wooed her persistently. He was persistent by nature, and all his -life he had never wanted anything as he wanted her. He bore the -discomforts of the little inn without a murmur, and every day the -roses on the little twisting paths found him among them. - -Mademoiselle was proud and cold; mademoiselle was proud and -mocking, proud and wilful, proud and laughing, proud and -non-comprehending--every mood in the world, one after another, was -mademoiselle, but proud always--proud with them all. And at last he -lost heart. - -So there came a day when the scent of the roses sickened him, when -the twisting paths maddened him, and he stood before the little -mistress of them all, white, stern, beaten. - -"I have come to say good-bye," he said, and the tone of his voice -had changed. - -"Good-bye?" she repeated, and she gave him her hand without another -word. - -"I would like to thank you for your kindness to me," he said dully; -"but--well, perhaps some day you will understand what I feel now. I -know you are too good for me. I don't see why you should ever have -cared for me; but oh! my little StA(C)phanie, you are just all the -world to me----" - -His voice broke, and he turned away down one of the little sunny -paths. But there amongst the roses love came to him at last; for -StA(C)phanie, with a sudden radiance in her face which sent all the -pride away, ran after him, and he, seeing the radiance, straightway -took her into his arms, and the scent of the roses grew sweet to him -again. - -And all the explanation mademoiselle ever saw fit to give of her -many unkind moods was--"You were so masterful, monsieur. You -hammered out love, love, love, and 'you must,' and 'you shall'--till -that day--then you wooed me as I would that I should be wooed." - -And he, remembering the words he had overheard when he stood beneath -the garden wall, smiled and thought he understood. - -Not all peace was his wooing even now. - -His little mistress still had her moods, and was tantalisingly chary -of her soft words and caresses. Moreover, she possessed a will -that had never been thwarted, and she did not understand the words -"shall" and "must," never having had them said to her. - -So that, sweet as he found his wooing, at times his brow grew dark; -for he too had a strong will, and it irked him to have to make it -give way to hers. - -And at last there came a matter in which he would not yield, and so -they parted. - -For mademoiselle declared that always must Ancelles be her home. - -"When you are my wife," he said, "you must come with me to my house -in town--in London, you know. What a change it will be for you, -_petite_!" - -And then mademoiselle, her eyes kindling, declared that never would -she live elsewhere than at Ancelles. - -He was aghast. For to a man, strong of limb and strong of brain, the -life that was a dream amongst the roses could not suffice. - -In vain he urged his views upon her. She rebelled against his tone -of authority. At last she stood before him with head erect, and -eyes that flashed on him from under their long lashes. - -"Choose," she said peremptorily: "London or me." - -"But, child, hear me----" - -"I will not hear you. Pray choose at once." - -"I would have both----" - -With a little scornful laugh she bade him begone. - -"StA(C)phanie----" - -She waved her white hand towards the gates of Ancelles. - -"You have chosen. Adieu!" - -She turned away with a scornful smile on her lips. - -He sprang forward. - -"StA(C)phanie, you must--you _shall_ give way to me in this----" - -Her small hand clenched. - -"Monsieur, allow me to pass!" - -He stood aside. - -"You will repent," he said. - -For an instant she turned her great eyes dark with pride on him. - -"_Never!_" she said, and walked away. - - * * * * * - -At Ancelles the roses still blossomed, the sun still shone, though -not so hotly, on the little twisting paths, the water nymph still -bent gracefully for her dive, and amongst them all flitted their -little mistress. In and out, gayer, more restless, swifter of foot -than even of yore, she wended her way--a laugh ever on her lips, -merry words tripping from her tongue, and hovering near--Jeannette. - -"Life is good, Jeannette," cried mademoiselle, and gaily she made -herself a crown of roses. - -"Life with love--yes, mamzelle," murmured Jeannette, for she was -getting desperate over the problem as to how long a young girl could -live eating nothing, or next to nothing. - -"Love? Bah! Jeannette, what an old sentimentalist you are!" - -Yet Jeannette had heard the sharp, indrawn breath that preceded the -mocking words. - -And why did mamzelle have to rest half-way up to her room now? - -Jeannette had seen her again and again, yet never with -mademoiselle's knowledge. - -For if Jeannette were with her, then, setting her little white teeth -closely, mademoiselle did the flights of stairs without a pause; -but Jeannette saw how the small hand, once so disdainful of the -balusters, now clung to the support. She saw how the pretty throat -throbbed, how her bosom heaved, and how the colour left her face; -and, seeing, Jeannette's own face grew grey and lined with care. - -"It is a merry world," cried mademoiselle, setting the crown of -roses on her pretty head, "and love is superfluous." - -"So is pride, mamzelle." - -Up went the small crowned head. - -"Pride superfluous, Jeannette?" haughtily. "Nay, it is but proper -and right for those of Ancelles." - -Jeannette moistened her dry lips. - -"It can be bought too dearly, mamzelle." - -"I--do not understand, Jeannette. Surely you are forgetting -yourself?" - -The eyes were dangerous, the lips haughty, but Jeannette's love for -her charge overcame the long reserve and terror of those last months. - -"Mamzelle, mamzelle, listen to me! He is a good man, and he loves -you well. Without him you will pine a----" - -"Pine, Jeannette? _Pine?_" Suddenly she caught the old servant's -wrists between her small, hot hands. "Jeannette," she whispered -passionately, "never speak so again! Do you hear? _I_ pine--_I!_ Am -I sad, Jeannette? Answer me! Are my spirits low?" - -"N--no, mamzelle." - -"Do I not work and read and play as always?" - -"Y--yes, mamzelle." - -"Do I ever droop?" - -"No----" - -"Or sigh?" - -"No----" - -"Or weep?" - -"No----" - -"Then what made you speak so, Jeannette?" - -"I--I do not know, mamzelle." - -StA(C)phanie dropped her wrist. Her eyes were burning, her cheeks -flushed. - -"Then never dare to speak so again," she said, and turned haughtily -away. - -And almost directly she burst into a gay little song; and Jeannette, -standing listening, felt the slow tears of age dropping one by one -down her cheeks. - - * * * * * - -In London Hugh Michelhurst shouldered his way amongst the busy -throng in Piccadilly, and in the fog his thoughts turned to the old -sunny garden at Ancelles. He sighed, then frowned as if such sighing -displeased him. His mouth took a bitter curve as his thoughts -wandered back to the last time he had stood on the little sunny -paths amongst the roses, with StA(C)phanie at his side. - -[Illustration: G. G. Manton - -She turned away with a scornful smile.] - -Perhaps it was because his thoughts so often wandered in that -direction that his face seemed to have grown harder, his mouth -sterner. - -"Four months!" he murmured, "twelve months in a year--say, forty -years--long years! Forty years like these last four months!" - -"Forty years, forty years!" rang mockingly in his ears. - -Suddenly he paused. - -"Forty or a hundred, I will never give in!" he said, and his mouth -looked almost cruel in its set sternness. - - * * * * * - -Spring had come. A soft, warm, early spring that brought all the -tender flowers peeping out before their time. - -And in the warm, trying spring Hugh Michelhurst fell ill of a low -fever. - -At the end of May he rose from his sick bed, and refused to be an -invalid any longer. - -But his strength was gone from him. - -One day he walked out into the country, and his love was strong -on him, so that he bowed his head, and felt weak as a child. And -suddenly a scent was wafted to him on the breeze. He stood and -lifted his head to meet it, and his face worked. On a little cottage -red roses glowed before their time. He had seen none since he was in -the old garden at Ancelles. He stretched out his arms. "I give in," -he said, and he turned and retraced his steps the way he had come. - - * * * * * - -In a little sunny path amongst the roses he found her. - -"My darling--my darling--I will live here always--only live with -me----" - -His voice broke; he could say no more. - -With a little fond cry she nestled close to him. - -"No, no," she whispered, "I will come away to your London as you -wish." - -They sat on the steps leading to the second terrace, and the water -nymph seemed to smile down on them as she bent to take her dive. -They sat side by side, and mademoiselle's pretty head rested against -his shoulder. - -[Illustration: G. G. Manton - -With a little cry she nestled close to him.] - -"But, _petite_, you love your home so----" - -"My home is wherever you are, monsieur." - -"You did not think so once, _chA(C)rie_." - -"Ah! but then you were 'shall' and 'must'"--pouting--"and now--now -you are different." - -He smiled tenderly. He thought he understood now. - -"We will live part of the year here and part in London. There, my -little one--will that do?" - -"Ah, yes, perfectly!" - -"Come now for a little walk," he said, for he had something in his -mind. - -He stopped in one of the twisting paths down which they had so often -wandered, and looked at the old chActeau. - -"That ivy is too thick to be healthy," he said, "but" (sighing), -"you like it--it must stop." - -Now that same ivy had been the cause of their biggest quarrel before -that last biggest one of all. - -"It shall be cut," cried mademoiselle, smiling up at him, "and at -once!" - -He looked down into her eyes adoringly. - -The scent of the roses wrapped them round with softest sweetness. - -He smiled at her tenderly. - -Yes, he understood now. He had found the way to rule her. - - - - -GREAT ANNIVERSARIES. - -_IN APRIL._ - - -April claims an anniversary which all Englishmen are presumed to -honour. April 23rd is St. George's Day, and St. George is the patron -saint of England. Yet he was not, so far as we know, an Englishman. -He is said to have been a centurion in the army of Diocletian, and -to have been roasted alive for pulling down a copy of the decree -ordering the infamous persecution associated with Diocletian's name. -That distinction is disputed in the interests of another person; but -the fact remains that St. George was held in conspicuous honour by -the early Church. His particular place as the patron of the English -dates from the Crusades. The story of George and the Dragon has no -relation to the incident which couples him to the English. Some -authorities have identified this St. George with a certain George -of Cappadocia, Arian Bishop of Alexandria; but Mr. Baring-Gould -rejects with indignation the proposal to confound the patron saint -of England with a heretic. We are on the ground, not of legend, but -of history, in recalling St. Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, who -was born about 1033. His day is April 21st. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: A. F. Colbourne, Canterbury._) - -ST. ANSELM'S CHAPEL, CANTERBURY.] - -[Illustration: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. - -(_The Stratford-on-Avon Portrait._)] - -[Illustration: WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - -(_From the Tablet in Grasmere Church._)] - -St. George's Day has memories of other people than the legendary -slayer of the dragon. On April 23rd, 1564, William Shakespeare was -born; on April 23rd, 1616, he died. These, then, are anniversaries -which cannot be overlooked by any person who values literature. Our -pride is qualified by the thought that all the world of intelligence -has taken hold of Shakespeare; he is the possession of educated -mankind. Cervantes does not come of our stock, but in passing it may -be permitted to remember that he died on the same day of the same -year as Shakespeare. It was on St. George's Day, 1850, too, that -William Wordsworth, poet laureate, died. The body of John Keble, the -poet of the Oxford Movement, was laid to rest in Hursley churchyard -on April 6th, 1866. He was deeply influenced by Wordsworth, but -his name still more definitely suggests another English poet--the -saintly George Herbert. He, too, belongs to this month, for he was -born on April 3rd, 1593. - -[Illustration: GEORGE HERBERT.] - -[Illustration: ROBERT RAIKES.] - -George Herbert was related to Lord Herbert of Cherbury, whose -friends included Thomas Hobbes, of Malmesbury, one of the most -distinguished of English philosophers. Hobbes was born on April 5th, -1588. The philosophy afterwards associated with the names of Locke, -Hume, and Priestley owed much to Hobbes. Hume himself--philosopher, -historian, and servant of the State--was born at Edinburgh on April -26th, 1711. Charles Darwin, philosopher and naturalist, died this -month (April 19th, 1882). Few Englishmen have attained to wider -fame; few have ever more profoundly influenced human thought. - -[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.] - -Robert Raikes, in virtue of his work in prisons and his share in the -foundation of Sunday schools, deserves long to be held in memory. -Born at Gloucester, he died there suddenly on April 5th, 1811. Could -Raikes have looked into the future, with what astonishment and joy -he would have marked the development in the extent and spirit of -this work, which is indicated by the existence of THE QUIVER Medal -Fund and its rewards to veteran Sunday-school workers! A more modern -and a greater philanthropist also belongs to April. Anthony Ashley -Cooper, seventh Earl of Shaftesbury, was born in Grosvenor Square -on April 28th, 1801. In and out of Parliament, with a zeal which -no opposition and no disappointment could repress, "the good Earl" -worked for the cause of the oppressed, the poor, the sick, the -sinful. He did much directly; perhaps more by the stimulus of his -example. - -[Illustration: THE LATE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. - -(_Photo: Russell & Sons, Baker Street, W._)] - -Of institutions associated with the month of April, the Royal -Academy is one of the most conspicuous. The Society of Incorporated -Artists held their first exhibition at the Society of Arts, Adelphi, -on April 21st, 1760. From this there sprang the Royal Academy. The -first exhibition of the Academicians was held in Pall Mall on April -26th, 1769. The British Museum has its association with this month, -for it was on April 5th, 1753, that Parliament granted the sum of -AL20,000 to the daughters of Sir Hans Sloane, in return for the -collections which were the basis of the museum's vast treasures. -The National Gallery also has its link with April, for it was on -April 9th, 1838, that the present building in Trafalgar Square was -completed and opened. - -April has many memories for citizens of the United States. On April -17th, 1790, died Benjamin Franklin, politician, economist, and -natural philosopher; in April, 1861, began the long struggle between -the Northern and Southern States; and on April 14th, 1865, Abraham -Lincoln, perhaps the most striking personality hitherto produced by -the great democracy, was shot by John Wilkes Booth. - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE NATIONAL GALLERY.] - - - - -[Illustration: BROUGHT AGAIN FROM THE DEPTHS.] - -_AN EASTERTIDE ADDRESS._ - -By the Very Rev. W. Lefroy, D.D., Dean of Norwich. - - "Thou, which hast showed me great and sore troubles, shalt - quicken me again, and shalt bring me up again from the depths of - the earth."--PSALM lxxi. 20. - - -Human history had seen but its infancy when the -announcement was made that man was "born unto trouble, as the -sparks fly upward." And ever since the home of the Arab chief was -devastated; ever since the day that Job's heart was broken by the -intelligence of the Sabean slaughter of his sons and daughters, -followed by a conflagration which stripped him of property, and -made a pauper of a prince; ever since, the dreary wail of woe rends -the air, and the requiem of life sobs and sighs like Eliphaz the -Temanite, "Man is born unto trouble." - -Nor can we allow ourselves to question the dictum. The infant's wail -precedes the infant's weal. The cry of helplessness is heard in the -cradle. The child's deep sigh anticipates the child's sweet smile. -And although sunny childhood sometimes passes as if the pitiless law -of hereditary trouble were suspended, yet no serious thinker can -hesitate to accept the proposition, that trouble is in the ratio in -which life's meaning and purpose are experienced, or divine love -accepted and enjoyed. If a man has no trouble, it is because he has -not yet practically realised the significance of existence. He is -still free from those social, domestic, and personal influences, the -derangement of any of which brings agony by day and sleeplessness -by night. Or, again, it may be because he has learnt the loftiest -and yet the lowliest lesson from his Lord, by accepting the Gospel -of Gethsemane, "Thy will be done." But excepting the persons so -classified by social isolation or spiritual resignation, there is -not on earth an exception to the law of the human race being "born -unto trouble." Yea, more. Constituted as we are, we live in the -presence of the grim enigma, that the object which gave us the -highest joy can give us the most excruciating sorrow. Nor can that -existence be anything else than mournful whose happiness or misery -depends upon any earthly object. - -This statement may be illustrated by every condition in -life--domestic, physical, intellectual. The genius across whose -mental firmament the lights and shadows of history travelled, and -by whom they were arrested, analysed, and grouped in their course; -the great brain of the great worker whose intrepid excursions into -the realms of the past and the present, with a view to tabulating -the rise of civilisation--the patient and profound Mr. Buckle, is -absorbed by mental enjoyment. He lives, and moves, and has his being -in men and manners, among maps and manuscripts. He makes a grand -discovery. He keeps the secret for twenty years. He repairs to -Damascus to recruit for literary service. He is stricken with fever, -and dies with the words of his intellectuality on his parched lips, -"My book, my book! I shall never finish my book!" Here his highest -joy was his keenest sorrow. So in physical life. There have been -men who seemed at one time as if they were created without nerves. -Their arms were brawny, muscular, and mighty. Their limbs were firm -and fine. They seemed God's highest type of organic life. They -rejoiced in their strength and in their youth. But disease assailed, -or dissipation punished, and retribution appeared in feebleness, -exhaustion, and debility. Youthful feats were forbidden. The sports -of the past recalled a youth of virtue and purity; and then came -the sigh which told that, even physically, the source of our joy -becomes the spring of our sorrow. And need I elaborate details to -establish the place of this doctrine in domestic life? Do we not -know this from the gloomy history of the orphan child, the widowed -mother, the bereaved sister, brother, friend? You know that to love -dearly means to have a skeleton in your house. The object of your -love causes a thousand smiles to play in your eye, and to break -on your countenance; but the shade of that object is mocking your -mirth, and is only waiting a few rounds of the clock to compensate -mirth with misery. - -Nor is this all. There are sorrows far more terrible than those of -sickness or the cemetery. A living sorrow defies rivalry. It has a -fearful pre-eminence in woe. A wayward, wild, debauched youth; an -estranged husband; an embittered, irascible, worldly wife; a stormy, -or, what is far worse, a sullen home; these are amongst the darkest -illustrations of the doctrine, that our sighs are in the track of -our smiles; our delights become our dangers; yea, it sometimes seems -as if affection became idiotic, and then, like the raving maniac, we -laugh and cry together. So we are "born to trouble." This being so, -it is important to listen to testimony concerning the remedy which -troubled souls have found efficacious. If we have one such man, able -and willing to give his fellow-sufferers a cure for care, it is -surely prudent to hear what he has to say. Accordingly, let me ask -you to follow me while I try to establish a cure for all afflicted -souls from the experience, conviction, and anticipation of a royal -mourner. I invite you to come with me to the side of a man like one -of us. Listen to him struggling up the great altar-stairs of faith -sustained by love, and, as he peers into the Unseen, he speaks as if -to one warm with life, charged with ardent sympathy, and he says, -"Oh, what troubles and adversities hast Thou shown me; and yet didst -Thou turn and refresh me!" - -The first step in this study is to be clear as to the nature of -the troubles God showed David. There was, then, the personal and -the spiritual trouble of backsliding, consequent upon his murder -of Uriah for his base purpose. And here we must discriminate. The -trouble of David about Bathsheba was not sent by God; God permitted -it; but in the heartless and cold-blooded plot in the tyrannical -insolence and diabolical dastardliness of its execution--in the -coarse, callous, and criminal height of its succeeding guilty -rapture--it was of Satan, of sin, of David. For three-quarters of -a year David played fast and loose with God and conscience; and it -was when Nathan scared him that God showed him the trouble. Then -came anguish, remorse, penitence. Then came the sorrowful sighing of -the soul--all the greater in the awakening because it had slept so -soundly and so long. Then came that lamentation over lost virtue, -the penitential Fifty-first Psalm. It is the expression of a man -lacerated by conscience. He seems to bleed at every pore. The -agitation and alarm and agony are piteous beyond description. He -appears in this psalm to look in every direction, and the ghost of -his crime haunts him. Within, without, above, below, behind, beyond, -he can see the furies of justice as the embassied troublers of his -life. Original depravity, actual outrage, a heart black with the -Egyptian darkness of fostered treachery, the warrior slaughtered -by his mandate, the blood-guiltiness staining his soul, and then -the wail ringing in the ears of God, "Cast me not away from Thy -presence; and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me"--all these may be -compared to a spiritual chamber of horrors, in which David found -himself after the startling visit of Nathan. - -These were some of the troubles God showed him. And their cause -introduced more of a domestic, not to say of a political, kind. The -sin brought scandal and reproach on the Church of God. The enemies -blasphemed. Then Jehovah, vindicating His character for justice -before the world, avenging the atrocious murder of Uriah, sent a -series of domestic afflictions upon David unparalleled in human -experience. One scene--a nameless scene--has its miserable match -in the brutal bestiality of the Empire, when the sceptre of Rome -was in the hands of a corpse. But the other experiences are easily -related. They are as the outcome of a curse which hung heavily on -the royal house. Amnon, the eldest son, was slain by young Absalom, -who waited two years for an opportunity. This severed Absalom from -home for three years. He then, by a singular artifice, returned, -and won the hearts of the people by his consummate and accomplished -address, his handsome presence, and adroit demeanour. His aged -and royal father's statesmen proved false to the king, and one in -particular advised the murder of David and a revolution. At length -the conspiracy grew in defiance and dimension. David was obliged -to flee from the capital. His flight was far more humiliating than -that of the French emperor from Paris. Napoleon had not to mourn -over the treason of his son as the cause of his exile. This was -David's anguish. He ascended the Mount of Olives and looked back -upon the city of palaces he had founded and ornamented--the seat -for a generation of his power, his glory, his happiness. He was -leaving it a miserable fugitive, driven forth by the nation he had -established and the child he had reared. He could not, he did not, -disguise his sorrow. With bared head and uncovered feet the exile -began his pilgrimage, and every step the old king took recalled the -crime and sin of earlier years, while it remained for one Shimei -to load him with the bitterest and most contemptuous execrations. -Then came the crisis. Such of the army as remained loyal engaged in -battle with the revolutionary forces attracted to Absalom. David -begged that his unhappy son might be spared in the conflict. The war -began and issued in the success of the royalists. The first question -of the venerable monarch was, "Is the young man Absalom safe?" -He then learnt that order was re-established, but at the cost of -Absalom's life. He was accidentally hanged, and while hanging he was -speared by David's commander-in-chief. - -These are amongst the troubles--political, domestic, and -spiritual--which God permitted to fall upon David; and yet this -very David has courage amid the havoc of holiness, the misery of -exile, the torture of outraged parental affection, and political -insurrection. That courageous confidence is in a person: he -realises God. This conviction is unshaken amid his chequered life -and history; indeed, all through the din of revolution, the grief -of a homeless and worse than childless existence, there is one -ever-recurring belief: "God my help," "God my refuge," "God my -shield." In this belief he brings back to God every trouble God -sent to him. Hence we have these psalms, written by David, as agony -after agony swept in upon his soul. Nor did it seem to signify how -different one sorrow might be from another. The old cry, the same -cry, is raised to a personal God. When Saul sought his life through -jealousy; when Jonathan was slain in battle; when he himself had -fallen into sin, and then was aroused--now by the whisperings of -reclaiming grace, now by the booming billows of divine justice; when -he bowed his head in shame, and the fierce light that beat about -his court gleamed on his dark soul; when he tottered up the heights -of Olivet, an impotent outcast, betrayed by his courtiers, deserted -by his troops, and exiled by the unnatural rebellion and heartless -perfidy of his son--in these experiences, so fearful, overwhelming, -and varied, he saw God showing him the trouble. As the hand that -sent it was ever the same, so from the heart that received it there -arose ever and anon the same plea--"Have mercy upon me, O Lord"; -"Make haste to help me"; "O Lord, make no long tarrying"; "I am -poor and needy"; "O be not Thou far from me, for trouble is near -at hand." And then, as if realising the apostasy, desertion, and -faithlessness of his friends and forces, he adds, "There is none to -help." - -We know how these earnest and anxious entreaties were heard: "Thou -didst turn and refresh me"; "Through Thee have I been holden up -ever since I was born"; "My mouth shall speak of Thy salvation -all the day long; for I know no end thereof." But further. -This acknowledgment of God as a "very present help in trouble" -is followed by a prophecy, and that of nothing less than the -resurrection--"Thou shalt bring me up again from the depths of the -earth"; so that David's sorrow, when brought humbly and heartily -to God, was followed by divine refreshment then, and hope of -resurrection hereafter. And a well-founded hope it was, because the -trouble sent by God produced a grand moral result when laid before -Him Who sent it. It had a purifying influence which made his mind -speed on to the resurrection day. In its anticipation he was but -yielding to the influence of a life higher than that he lived before -his sorrow, and which sought enjoyment and exercise loftier and -still loftier. This he, by faith, foresaw, in the anticipation of -that rest to which his trouble sent him, and for the appreciation of -which his trouble purified him. - -So we have here in the spiritual world an instructive and -encouraging illustration of what frequently occurs in the physical. -We have purification by pain; refreshment out of ruin. So have I -seen this grand law asserting the governance of its God in those -Alpine crags on which the stars seem to pause. There on those -storm-scalped peaks the climber feasts on the panorama spread by -God's own hand, in winding river, sapphire lake, everlasting hill, -sentinelled by a forest of pines, dressed in the matchless sombre -of Alpine green or shrouded by the spotless snows of heaven. I have -witnessed the troubles of the atmosphere. The bursting rain-cloud -hangs low, the light recedes, the darkness deepens, the wind moans; -and then the full-toned thunder roars, and the long lines of fire, -angular and electric, leap from fissures in the firmament. The -artillery of the elements is deafening, and its echoes rumble -in the distance like the mutterings of imprisoned spirits. The -storm is over. The calm succeeds. The clouds become brighter and -brighter still. The sun peeps out here and there in a rift of the -heavens. The air is fresh and keen and pure. The vegetation is -bright and green. The rivulets and mountain torrents ripple and rush -rejoicing. As we see this, we are reminded of the analogies of God's -government; yea, if we could put a preacher on every peak, a tongue -in every valley, Nature would minister to grace, and from each would -come the response of the royal poet to the call of God. The world -physical would raise the ecstatic antiphon to the world spiritual: -"O what great troubles and adversities hast Thou showed me, and yet -didst Thou turn and refresh me!" - -But these words have a still richer meaning in their bearing upon -the religious fortunes of the Hebrew race, the Messianic glory of -the Redeemer, and the present and future position of His believing -people. I believe that Israel's troubles are to issue in Israel's -refreshment, and even in national resurrection. Her captivities -and dispersions, her degradation and exile, are but the preludes -to her rise, return, and splendour. God has sworn it; His word is -bound to it. His promise is as certain as though it were performed. -But we may merely mention this as a conviction, in order to pass -on and recognise in these words the history of Jesus Christ. From -that cradle and cottage home; from that carpenter's bench where -He toiled; from that country, with its hills and dales, and lanes -and lakes, where He preached; from the Temple which He glorified -and abrogated; from the cross where He died; from the tomb which -He vacated; from the throne of mediation, where He sympathises, -intercedes and governs; from earth below, and heaven above, the -voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea, filling angelic souls with -adoration, and human hearts with hope, announcing, "O what great -troubles and adversities hast Thou showed Me!" He was betrayed, -despised, and rejected. He looked for some to have pity on Him, -but there was no man; neither found He any to comfort Him. He was -maligned and misunderstood. The malice of His enemies omitted but -one sin in their resolve to blacken His character, and it remained -for the patronising blasphemy of Renan to insinuate that one as -possible. He was accused of deceit, though infallible; He was -slandered as a drunkard, though immaculate; yea, the detraction -of His foes did not spare Him the agony of being charged with the -commission of a sin as disgusting as it is brutal--that of gluttony. -He was arraigned as a felon, and died as an impostor. But beyond -all was the sin of which these were but the symptoms. This was the -trouble, "great and sore," which God showed Him. This was the agony -of agonies to the sinless, spotless Lamb of God. Its fell pressure -is the meaning of the tradition that Jesus was often seen to weep, -but never once to smile. To this trouble we trace the overpowering -experiences of the fainting, prostrate Christ in the garden; of -the wailing and woe-bearing Christ on the cross. Yet there was the -refreshment; there was behind it all the unchangeable love of God -the Father--"Therefore doth My Father love Me, because I lay down -My Life that I might take it again." There was the satisfaction of -His soul, in saving the race He died to redeem by representation; -there was, above all, the guarantee of that redemption in being -brought "from the depths of the earth again." - -And if we were to follow the history of His Church, that history -would be a living commentary on the experience of David and of -David's Lord: divinely sent trouble, divinely sought and divinely -sent refreshment, issuing in spiritual resurrection. Is not this -the account many have to give of sorrow, succour, and salvation? -You were weak: you are now strong. You were "choked with cares," -and sought relief in a flood of tears: you are now able to leave -the burden of your cares with Him Who "careth for you"; while your -eyes, once red with agony, are now bright with praise, gratitude, -and hope. Remembering what you were, and now recognising what you -are, you may adopt the language of David, "I am become a wonder -unto many, but my sure trust is in Thee"; or, taking a fuller view -and a finer tone, you will ring out the litany of deliverance, and -chant the song of praise and blessing, "O what great troubles and -adversities has Thou showed me; and yet didst Thou turn and refresh -me." - -This present refreshment is a prophecy of future resurrection. It -leads all the afflicted children of God on to the grand climax in -sin, sorrow, and all the trouble to which we are born. Then the cup -of universal affliction shall be full. The waters of our pilgrimage -shall be sweetened, and changed into the bright, clear, rosy wine of -immortality. Then farewell, sorrow; farewell, weakness; agony, ache, -desolation, and sin, we bid you a final and a glad farewell. Then -shall rise upon this scene of change and uncertainty, where pain -and pleasure are so intermingled and combined, the sun that knows -no setting, the everlasting day that knows no night. Then shall the -children of God, the "children of the resurrection," gathered from -every known and unknown region, race, and age, rise to the rapture -of the saints, and, defying the immeasurable weight of all the -ocean's pressure--for the sea shall give up its dead--shattering -the manacles with which corruption had long bound the germ of -incorruption, they shall "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye," -greet the Saviour Who loved them, with a greeting worthy the Lamb -that was slain; worthy the grandest event in the annals of earth -and heaven; while high above the din of the last crash of worlds, -yea, louder than the storm which marches on the ruins of creation, -shall rise the anthem of royal and even wretched and relieved -experience--"Thou hast brought me from the depths of the earth -again." - - - - -[Illustration: FOR THE SAKE OF HER CHILD] - -By Scott Graham, Author of "The Link between Them," Etc. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -_The Pity of It._ - - -On Saturday night, in that same week, Harold sallied -forth at dusk, with a bulky brown-paper parcel under his arm, -containing a pair of boots which he was taking by stealth to a -humble cobbler in a back alley to mend. - -Just because he fervently desired not to meet anybody he knew, as he -turned a corner he almost ran into the arms of May Burnside; who, -on seeing him, appeared confused. He stopped and tried to conceal -his parcel as well as he could, whilst talking volubly; and May -stammered and fidgeted, like one detected in a guilty enterprise. -Her aunt had that day presented her with half-a-crown; and, wishing -to make a frock for Doris, she was on her way to buy some wonderful -material she had seen marked fourpence three-farthings in a cheap, -common shop she would not have cared to enter by daylight. Miss -Waller would have fainted at the idea of her niece being seen going -into Whittaker's, where everything was ticketed "Alarming Sacrifice!" - -So, the boots weighing on his uneasy conscience, and the fourpence -three-farthings on hers, they continued to blush and stammer until -Harold summoned up courage to say that it was rather late, and, if -Mrs. Burnside was going home, he would escort her, if she wished. - -She hesitated, loth to lose the chance of bargain, and then said-- - -"My aunt is dining out, so I need not hurry back; and I wanted to -go to a shop--Whittaker's, do you know it? I buy rubbish there -occasionally." - -He did know the shop, which was close to the alley wherein dwelt his -old cobbler. "If you don't mind," he said eagerly, "I'll leave you a -moment, whilst I do an errand hard by, and meet you when you've done -your shopping." - -So he went off, delighted at solving the problem of the boots; for -no man appears to advantage when hugging a clumsy parcel. Having -duly effected her purchase, May rejoined him, and, as they strolled -towards Victoria Square, informed him that they were starting for -London on Monday. "I know I shall hate it!" she added, with a sigh. - -He sighed too; but what could he say or do, bound as he was, hand -and foot? "July _is_ rather hot for London," he answered discreetly. -"Lulu wrote yesterday, and may I suggest, if you have leisure, she -would be delighted if you called to see her? I will give you her -address. The flat is very tiny, of course, but----" - -"But infinitely preferable, I am sure, to Victoria Square!" retorted -May bitterly. The burden of life seemed intolerable that evening. - -"Are you, then, so unhappy there?" he asked, startled. "How I -wish----" - -He checked himself hastily, and May stifled a sob which rose in her -throat. "Very few people are quite happy, it seems to me," she said, -trying to speak calmly. "There is always something." - -"Yes, but you--_you_ ought to be happy, if there were any justice -in the world!" he burst out impetuously. "You deserve a sunny, -sheltered life, free from worry and care. Will you believe it is -the hardest of my trials to be able to offer you nothing but barren -sympathy?" - -"It is very good of you to sympathise with me," May murmured -gratefully. "So few people do. They look at my clothes, and decide -that anybody dressed as I am, and living in Victoria Square, _must_ -be happy. 'Lucky Mrs. Burnside!' they call me." - -He remembered how enviable, in the early days of their acquaintance, -May had seemed to him, and thought how mistaken are the judgments of -this world. A great pity swelled his heart as she said "Good-bye"; -and he tramped back to his dreary rooms doubly depressed, both on -her account and his own. How he longed to be able to free her from -her shackles, and offer her a happy home, independent of Miss Waller! - - * * * * * - -"I must say, May, nobody would think you were going to London to -enjoy yourself. Do, for goodness' sake, try to look a little more -cheerful!" said Miss Waller sharply, as they took their seats in -a reserved first-class carriage on the Monday. Mr. Lang, to May's -great relief, had returned to town three days before, so they were -spared his company. "You are the most ungrateful girl I ever knew." - -[Illustration: "Do try to look a little more cheerful!"] - -"I'm sorry you think so, aunt, but----" - -"It would serve you right if I washed my hands of you entirely," -continued the irate spinster. "But I am too kind-hearted; my sense -of duty restrains me. I should be better off now, if I'd been more -selfish and less considerate for others. But I'm well aware it's -useless to expect gratitude in _this_ world." - -And, with a heartfelt sigh for the wickedness of this generation, -Miss Waller arranged the air-cushion more comfortably at her back, -and, placing her daintily shod feet on the opposite seat, commenced -to study a newspaper. May sat watching the deep-green summer -landscape flit by, with pretty much the same feelings as a convict -might experience while going down to Portland guarded by warders. -The knowledge that Mr. Lang awaited them at the end of the journey -took all the colour out of the blue sky; and the sleek cattle -standing knee-deep in water beneath the willows, seemed to mock her -by their animal freedom from care. For herself, she cared little; -but there was Doris to consider, and the thought of her helpless -child harassed her throughout that miserable journey. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -_The Recluse._ - - -Enforced idleness is, to an active mind, the greatest misery -conceivable. Harold Inglis had in him a vast capacity for work, and -therefore found it doubly bitter to have to spend his days lounging -about, waiting for the patients who never came. He was afraid to go -out lest he should miss a summons, and unable to sit down to read -or write, so continually did he find himself listening for a ring -at the bell and Ann's voice announcing a patient. He could not even -tranquillise himself with tobacco, for he had given up smoking on -account of the expense. - -He returned from an errand one afternoon to find an elderly -manservant waiting with the intimation that Sir Edward Vane, of The -Towers, was ill, and would like to see him. He knew Sir Edward by -name as a wealthy and eccentric recluse, who lived alone in a big -house just outside the town, and was liberal in doctors' fees. Not -a little flattered, he promised to come immediately, and was about -to turn in at the lodge gate at The Towers, when he encountered Dr. -Selwyn, another local medical man, with whom he was acquainted. - -"Been sent for by Sir Edward, eh?" asked Selwyn, with a broad grin. - -"Yes." - -"Wish you joy. You may not know it, but he's already tried every -doctor in Beachbourne, and quarrelled with them all in succession. I -wouldn't attend him again for any money. Good-bye, and good luck to -you!" - -In some trepidation, Harold knocked, and was admitted through a -handsome hall into a spacious sitting-room, littered with almost -every conceivable object. On a sofa reclined a grey-haired man -about sixty, whose tanned face, speaking of long residence in the -tropics, was disfigured by a look of fretful ill-health. A retired -Anglo-Indian, distinguished in the Civil Service, Sir Edward had -seen more of the world than most men. - -"You're not in partnership with anybody here, are you?" he asked, -when Harold had examined him carefully. - -"No." - -"All the better. A more wretched lot of impostors than the -Beachbourne doctors I never came across. For years they've been -tinkering at me, and, after all, I'm worse, instead of better. What -are doctors for, if they can't cure one?" - -Harold was discreetly silent. Sir Edward had a complication of -maladies, beyond any medical skill to remedy. - -"My father lived to be ninety," continued the invalid. "And why -can't I?" - -"I don't think, for my part, I should wish to be so old as that," -diffidently returned Harold. "It must be so sad to outlive all one's -friends." - -"I have no friends," was the grim reply. "Only some greedy -relations, eager for my money. I've a good deal to leave," he added, -looking keenly at Harold. "And when I take a fancy to people, -I'm liberal----They say here that I'm always quarrelling with my -doctors; but it's the doctors who quarrel with me, and will air -their own particular fads, instead of trying to cure me. Are you -married?" he asked abruptly. - -"No." - -"A good thing, too; you've more time to attend to your patients. -Hewett used to bore me talking by the hour about that ugly wife of -his. Do you understand fossils, and such things? My room's in an -awful mess, as you see, and I should like to have the specimens -arranged a bit; but I can't trust the servants." - -The place was indeed crammed with all sorts of curios, many -exceedingly valuable. By continually asking for one possession after -another, Sir Edward had ended by accumulating all his treasures -in this one room, which he never left, save for his bedchamber -adjoining. A most untidy place it was; the curiosities being heaped -on chairs, shelves, and the floor, without any method. - -"I am very fond of fossils; and if you wish them arranged, it would -give me great pleasure to help." - -"Hewett wanted me to make a clean sweep of them; interfered with the -flow of his precious fresh air. Like his ignorance! Did he think I -wanted to sit and stare at an ugly wall-paper all day when I was -tired of reading?" - -"Do you read much?" - -"Yes; chiefly Sanskrit. In _my_ day, Indian officials had to be not -only gentlemen but scholars. Well," as Harold rose to go, "I'll have -your prescription made up, and shall expect you again to-morrow." - -"I will come, and hope the pain will be easier then." He detailed -the treatment he desired, and was giving a few final directions when -the manservant opened the door. "Miss Geare has called, sir. Will -you see her?" - -"Oh dear!" pettishly exclaimed Sir Edward. "She'll stay an hour, -prosing about her dogs. For mercy's sake, don't go!" detaining -Harold. "Help me to entertain her, and get her away soon! She was to -have been my sister-in-law, having been engaged to my brother Adrian -years ago; and since in an evil hour I settled at Beachbourne, I've -been fairly persecuted by her." - -In another minute the little lady tripped smilingly in. - -"Well, Edward dear, how are you now? I heard you were not well, so I -just came to inquire." - -"I'm better now, thank you," returned Sir Edward gruffly. "I've -given Hewett the sack, and this is my new doctor--Dr. Inglis. Do you -know him?" - -"Oh, yes, he has been attending me. I'm sure he has done me good, -and I hope you'll benefit also, Edward. You can't _think_ how kind -Dr. Inglis was to my darling Bijou when he broke his leg!" - -"Having attended Bijou, it, of course, follows that Dr. Inglis will -cure me," sneered Sir Edward. "How is the amiable Miss Pepper?" - -"She's waiting outside with the dogs, as you said you wouldn't have -her here. She's a faithful creature; I wish you liked her a little -better, Edward dear." - -"I never was fond of vinegar, Catherine." - -"Oh, don't be so sarcastic, Edward! I never was clever; but you make -me feel like a little girl again, when my governess scolded me." - -There were tears in the watery blue eyes; but they did not seem to -touch Sir Edward. "The remedy, my dear Catherine, is exceedingly -simple," he blandly rejoined. "I know I'm a curmudgeon, unfit to -associate with such an angel as you. Why then should you inflict -upon yourself the unpleasantness of coming here? Why not stay away, -to enjoy the more congenial society of Miss Pepper and the dogs?" - -"So you don't want me, Edward? I think you're very unkind," returned -Miss Geare, evidently wounded, but with a patient dignity Harold had -not expected. He noticed that ever since she entered her gaze had -wandered, at intervals, to an oil-painting of a fine-looking young -man in uniform which hung over the mantelpiece. "But I know better -than to take you at your word. You are all I have left--my dear -Adrian's brother--and----" She broke down, and wiped the slow tears -of age from her eyes. - -Sir Edward gave an impatient sigh, and Harold interposed. "Allow me -to remind you, Miss Geare, that my patient has had a very severe -attack, and the quieter he is the better. Everything depends on -that. I must go home now; and may I request the pleasure of your -company to the gate, if you are ready?" - -"Yes, do go home to Bijou!" fretfully murmured the invalid. And Miss -Geare, after bestowing an affectionate farewell on the unresponsive -Sir Edward, allowed Harold to politely conduct her to the lodge gate. - -"Poor Edward!" she began, as they went down the drive, "he allows -illness to sour his temper, and it's such a pity! But I take no -notice--he's my dear Adrian's only brother, and I can't bear -to stay away from the house. Did you see the portrait over the -mantelpiece?--that was my Adrian. I was young, and pretty too, in -those days, though you mayn't believe it----" - -"I quite believe it," said Harold kindly, touched by the spectacle -of this forlorn old age. - -"Adrian was so proud of Edward. He was so much thought of in India, -and is very, very clever--but not equal to my Adrian--oh, no; nobody -ever could be as handsome and noble as he was! When I heard he was -killed in the Mutiny, I thought I should die too; I think it must -have killed something inside me, for I've never been the same since. -I get confused, and I can't remember things----Yes, I'm coming. -Very sorry to have kept you waiting." - -The humble apology was to Miss Pepper, who, with a most unamiable -countenance, was standing just outside the gate. Miss Geare hastily -said farewell, and Harold could hear her companion scolding her -vigorously as they went down the road. But, as he thought of the -faded, antique love story which had ended so tragically, he could -not but feel sorry for poor little eccentric Miss Geare--it was so -evident that the best part of her had been buried in her lover's -grave. Her eyes must have been rather like May's, he thought, before -sorrow had given them that vacant expression; and then he wondered, -for the hundredth time, what Mrs. Burnside was doing in London, and -whether she thought of him as often as he did of her. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -_Vanitas Vanitatum._ - - -Arrived in London, all May's worst anticipations were realised; for -Mr. Lang accompanied them everywhere, and she had not a minute to -call her own. He assumed an air of proprietorship which made her -blood boil. "You ought to do this, Mrs. Burnside--you should see -that," he repeated from morning till night; and, as Miss Waller -invariably pronounced all his suggestions charming, it was useless -for May to rebel. - -So London proved the same weary old story over again--a life of -outward glitter and show, of softly rolling carriages, of sumptuous -dinners, and reserved seats; and within, dust and ashes, and Dead -Sea fruit! May talked and smiled, but it was mechanically; her heart -was far away. - -She asserted herself sufficiently, however, to declare her intention -of calling upon the Inglis girls in their flat in West Kensington. -She had written to Lulu, who sent her a pressing invitation to come -on Saturday afternoon, when they were at leisure. - -Miss Waller instantly denounced the scheme as a wild-goose chase, -asserting that May was certain to lose her way. They were still -discussing it when Mr. Lang came in from Palace Gardens, as he -usually did first thing in the morning, ostensibly to ask what they -wished to do, but really to order them about at his sovereign will -and pleasure. "Well, ladies, what's the programme for to-day?" he -began. - -May turned round from the window of the handsome drawing-room for -which her aunt was paying a small fortune, thinking, as the morning -sunlight fell upon his podgy figure, that Mr. Lang grew uglier and -more common-looking every day. "I have promised to go and see my -friends the Inglises this afternoon," she announced firmly. - -[Illustration: "This is my new doctor--Dr. Inglis."--_p. 509._] - -"And who may the Inglises be?" - -"Some girls who live at West Kensington," returned May, colouring at -his lordly tone. - -"Their brother is a doctor--a very unsuccessful one at Beachbourne," -put in Miss Waller irritably. "They are very poor, and live in a -poky flat. What May can see in them I can't imagine; and I'm sure -she'll get lost if she goes alone." - -"I can take a cab, aunt." By a perfect miracle she had a few -shillings in her pocket. - -"I'll tell you what," pompously proclaimed Mr. Lang. "You shall go -in a cab, Mrs. Burnside, if you really must, and I'll call and bring -you back in my carriage. Eh, Miss Waller?" - -"Oh, what a splendid idea!" gushed the spinster, brightening; and, -though May protested earnestly against troubling Mr. Lang, he -was resolute. Then he carried them off to inspect a picture in a -Bond Street shop which took his fancy--a seapiece, with violently -ultramarine waves tumbling about the canvas. May considered it -a most irritating production, and boldly said so; for, despite -her aunt's frowns, she refused to flatter Mr. Lang. He took her -criticism very good-naturedly, however, and insisted on their coming -to luncheon with him at a fashionable Regent Street restaurant, -where only African millionaires and suchlike could afford to go. - -But at length May's ordeal was over, and she drew a great breath of -relief as the lift deposited her at No. 18, Windermere Mansions. -Lulu herself admitted her, evidently delighted to see her, and -announced that just then she was alone. - -"Esther isn't back yet, but I expect her every minute," she -explained. "Mabel, our chum, has gone to see some friends. We don't -keep a servant, but a charwoman comes morning and evening. Our flat -is a mere cupboard, as you see; but, such as it is, you are very -welcome." - -She conducted May over it, and tiny it certainly was; only one -sitting-room, a speck of a kitchen, three small bedrooms, and a -bathroom. But it was very comfortable and homelike; and, though many -of the articles were merely of wicker and bamboo, it was furnished -with a taste which betrayed the instincts of gentlewomen. - -"How I envy you!" exclaimed May, as she sank into a chair in the -cosy little sitting-room. And then, to Lulu's consternation and to -her own intense disgust, she burst into tears. - -Lulu looked quite alarmed; for the modern girl reserves all such -exhibitions for the privacy of her own apartment, and tears and -hysterics are as much out of fashion nowadays as poke bonnets and -sandalled shoes. It is not that the new girl can't feel, but that -she considers it undignified to cry. - -[Illustration: To Lulu's consternation ... she burst into tears.] - -"Forgive me," apologised May, blushing furiously. "I'm -overtired--I've been doing too much in this heat. I feel quite -ashamed to be so foolish." - -"We'll have tea directly Esther comes; that will revive you," -replied Lulu cheerfully and she proceeded to light a dainty -spirit-kettle which formed part of a most inviting tea equipage. May -watched her enviously, thinking how sweet and homelike it all was. -She had never known a real home since leaving her father's house. -Her married life was a horrible nightmare, and Victoria Square -was little better; and if she yielded to pressure and married Mr. -Lang----But no! that would not bear thinking of! - -"There's Esther!" cried Lulu eagerly, as a latch-key clicked in the -hall door. - -May had expected to find Miss Inglis handsome; but she was not -prepared for such a young goddess as now swept into the room, -with a stride of long, well-knit limbs which made the place seem -ludicrously small. Esther Inglis would have attracted notice -anywhere, with her splendid, keen-cut, dark face and stately poise -of head; and her family might well be proud of her. - -She was better dressed than Lulu, in a plain but well-fitting gown -which was very becoming. - -"Tired, dear?" asked Lulu affectionately, as her sister, after -greeting May, reclined her tall figure in a basket-chair. - -"Rather; that is, I've a Saturday afternoon kind of feeling. -The office was very hot, and the new man can't quite manage the -telephone. Where's Mabel?" - -"Gone to see her friends at Richmond. Give me your hat, dear." - -She removed her sister's outdoor garb with a deft motherliness which -charmed May. Miss Inglis was clearly accustomed to being waited -upon; but it seemed quite natural, with her splendid face and figure. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -_Mr. Lang meets his Match._ - - -"And how is Harold, Mrs. Burnside?" Esther asked as they sipped -their tea. - -May gave as favourable an account of his progress as she could, -to which Miss Inglis listened thoughtfully. "I'm afraid he has an -uphill struggle before him, poor old fellow! Without capital, it -seems to me, you can do nothing nowadays? Are there many doctors at -Beachbourne?" - -"A good many; and, of course, it takes time to make a practice." - -"It's always the same old story--want of money!" sighed Esther -pessimistically. "Nowadays the competition is something dreadful; -and what will it be for the next generation?" - -"Why, Esther, you seem in rather a croaking mood!" remonstrated Lulu. - -"Well, my dear, going about daily in trains and omnibuses, and -having to run the gauntlet of every man who thinks that because a -girl works for her living she can't possibly be a lady, doesn't tend -to sweeten one's view of life." - -"I suppose there are annoyances in every lot," diffidently put in -May. "But there are--there really are--worse things than being -obliged to earn one's living. You must be so happy here, able to do -just as you like, with nobody to worry you." - -Esther's brow cleared. "Yes, it's something to be independent, -nowadays. And it's too bad to bore you with my grumbles, Mrs. -Burnside. I don't often indulge in complaints, do I, Lulu? We three -really have a jolly time here; and my salary is to be raised twenty -pounds a year, beginning from next month." - -"Oh, Esther, how splendid!" - -"Yes, we must go on the river, or have some dissipation to celebrate -it. Oh! who can that be?" as a loud knock resounded at the outer -door. - -"My aunt thought I might get lost, and a friend of ours--Mr. -Lang--offered to call for me," said May, flushing. "He is earlier -than I expected--I hope you don't mind his coming?" - -"Oh, dear, no!" nonchalantly responded Esther, as Lulu bustled -out to admit Mr. Lang, who entered with his usual bumptious -self-confidence. But when his eyes fell upon the superb figure of -Esther, he was palpably surprised. - -May introduced him; but, while Lulu gave him a friendly greeting, -Esther barely condescended to acknowledge his existence. Miss -Inglis, late of Mallowfield Hall, was not to be put down by a vulgar -plutocrat. - -"I must apologise for coming rather early, Mrs. Burnside," he began, -"but I didn't quite know how long it would take to get here; I never -was in this neighbourhood before. Don't you find it rather out of -the way?" he continued, addressing Esther. - -"It _is_ rather inconvenient, especially as we don't keep a -carriage," she coolly returned. A keen observer of human nature, she -had taken Mr. Lang's measure in one haughty glance. - -"Nice little place, though," he added patronisingly, intending to be -very polite. "That drapery over the mantelpiece is a good idea. Did -Liberty do it?" - -"I did it myself, with a few yards of cheap cretonne and an ounce of -tin-tacks." - -"Really! How clever!" he exclaimed, not perceiving that Esther was -covertly laughing at him. "Old miniatures, too! Are you a collector? -I am; I've got some lovely Cosways." - -"Oh, dear, no! these are only some of our ancestors. My father has -the best ones, down in Cornwall." - -"I've rather a good collection at my house in Palace Gardens. You've -seen them, haven't you, Mrs. Burnside? It would give me great -pleasure to show them to your young friends, if they care to call -some day." - -"Thank you; my sister and I are working all day, and have very -little time. I am not specially interested in miniatures, except -those belonging to our family," replied Esther coldly. May inwardly -rejoiced at seeing Mr. Lang meet his match for once. - -"I believe you have a brother out in South Africa?" presently asked -Mr. Lang, turning to Lulu. - -"Yes, at Johannesburg. He's on the staff of the Victorina Mine." - -"I believe I've met him somewhere. Rather good-looking, with dark -hair, isn't he? He must know me; I'm so well known out there -in connection with the Springkloof Mine. Have you heard of the -Springkloof, Miss Inglis?" - -"Yes," answered that superb young lady, fixing her eyes steadily on -him. "I have heard a good deal about it from Jack. He was over in -England last summer." - -"I'm often going backwards and forwards to Johannesburg," continued -Mr. Lang; "I should be glad at any time to take charge of any -parcels or letters for your brother, if you will let me know. This -is my London address," and he laid his card on the table. - -"Thank you, we couldn't think of troubling you." - -"No trouble, I assure you. I should be very glad to oblige any--any -of Mrs. Burnside's friends." - -May crimsoned beneath his significant glance and the scarcely veiled -scorn on Esther's fine face. How these girls must despise her for -associating with this horrible man! Unable to bear it any longer, -she rose to take leave. - -"I hope we shall meet again before you go," Lulu said wistfully; -but May dared not press them to come and see her aunt, knowing they -would only meet a chilly reception from Miss Waller. "I will write -and let you know," she answered hurriedly. - -"Perhaps you young ladies might like a drive in the Park -occasionally?" suggested Mr. Lang. "I'd be very happy to send my -carriage." - -"Thank you," responded Esther, who appeared to be spokeswoman on all -occasions. "My sister and I work for our living, and have no time -for such dissipations. I am employed in a City office." - -"Then it's a shame you should have to work--that's all I can say," -warmly rejoined Mr. Lang. "A woman's place is at home, in a handsome -drawing-room, with every comfort about her--not jostling about in -the crowd with men." - -"Handsome drawing-rooms and an idle life are not within the reach of -every woman, nowadays, Mr. Lang," coldly responded Esther, as they -shook hands; and the next minute the door closed behind them. - -"Horrid man!" cried Esther wrathfully, when the visitors had gone. -"Didn't his insufferable patronage make your blood boil? He might -well ask if we knew him by name; of course, we do--too well, for, -according to Jack, the Springkloof Mine was a byword on the Randt, -from the way in which the original owners were cheated out of the -property by Mr. Lang and his syndicate. I remember he mentioned this -Lang as a man who was well known at Johannesburg to have mixed in -many shady transactions." - -"What a pity that nice Mrs. Burnside should be obliged to associate -with him! He evidently admires her; but, to tell you a secret, -Esther, there's somebody who admires her even more--and that's -Harold." - -"Poor Harold! How can he ever afford to marry? Mrs. Burnside is -dependent on her aunt for everything, isn't she?" - -"Yes, and her aunt intends her to marry Mr. Lang. Poor thing! I can -see she is simply miserable at the idea of it." - -Esther took up Mr. Lang's card, to read the address. "He might well -say West Kensington was out of the way! If he ever comes again--I -don't mean to be at home." And she tore it into the smallest -fragments. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -_On the Island._ - - -"This is what I call perfectly delightful," pronounced Miss Waller -solemnly. She looked meaningly at May, who stood near, looking her -best in pale blue, with a big white hat, but her niece pretended not -to hear. - -A week had elapsed since Mrs. Burnside's visit to the Inglis -girls; and it was again Saturday afternoon. It had been a week of -absolutely tropical heat, exhausting to a degree; and Mr. Lang, -noticing May's pale cheeks, had proposed a trip up the river in his -steam-launch. So, with their mutual friends the Wingates, and some -other people, they were now bound for an island some distance above -Kingston, where they intended to land and have tea. - -After the scorching and crowded streets, the river, with its green, -tree-shaded banks, was indeed a pleasant change; and, had she been -free from care, May would have greatly enjoyed watching the numerous -gay boats and launches filled with happy holiday-makers. But the -presence of Mr. Lang--vulgar, fussy, and pretentious--spoiled -everything, and she avoided him as much as possible, greatly to her -aunt's disgust. - -The island at which they presently arrived was very small; and -so crowded with people that at another time the scene would have -amused May. They landed with some difficulty, amid the crowd of -skiffs, punts, and canoes, which were moored to the banks; and had -to walk warily, not to tread upon their late occupants, who were -now grouped round every variety of tea equipage, arrayed in every -kind of costume. One or two people, ostentatious like themselves, -were attended by liveried servants to turn the whole thing into -a burlesque; but the great mass had spread their tea with their -own hands, and it was comical to see how their ideas of a picnic -varied. Here would be a homely meal with thick enamelled tea-things, -huge chunks of bread-and-butter, and shrimps or watercress for a -relish. Next door would be an aristocratic party with a silver -teapot, fairy-like china, expensive cakes, and fruit on artistic -dessert plates. Here a stout materfamilias, purple with the heat, -struggled to satisfy her hungry brood of eight with hastily buttered -rolls; there a pair of lovers, oblivious of all else, sat partaking -of nectar and ambrosia, in imagination a thousand miles away. -Everywhere was good humour, laughter, and happiness. - -At last, after his usual bustle, Mr. Lang contrived to secure a -vacant spot for his party; though not without an angry argument -with some plainly dressed people who, with scant respect for -African millionaires, declined to move their common delft -tea-service to make way for his costly Dresden. Whilst the footman -spread the cloth May sat abstractedly gazing over the sunlit river, -when suddenly she caught a glimpse in an approaching boat of a -figure which made her heart leap. Surely that stalwart young man in -flannels, rowing two girls towards the island, was Harold Inglis! -With consummate skill he steered his cockleshell craft to the bank, -then helped his sisters out, and, carrying a basket, came to find a -place to sit down. - -"What a handsome girl!" murmured more than one of Mr. Lang's party -as Esther advanced with her queenly gait. May, delighted, rose to -greet her. "How wonderful to meet you here!" exclaimed Miss Inglis. -"Harold had to come up to town on business, and we persuaded him to -bring us up the river." - -"So glad to see you again, Mrs. Burnside," said the young doctor as -they shook hands; his honest English face flushing as his glance -met hers. That glance and that handclasp seemed to throw a flood -of light upon the secret places of May's soul; for suddenly she -realised that she loved him better than her life. He was, and always -must be, the one man in the world to her. - -Miss Waller was not pleased at this addition to their party; but -she could not interfere when Mr. Lang pressed the Inglises to join -the circle assembled at tea. Nor could they well refuse: though -independent Esther insisted on making use of the provisions they -had brought with them. Harold stationed himself beside May, as a -matter of course, and contrived, under cover of the lively chatter -of the rest, to tell her about the new patients he had secured at -Beachbourne, and hear what she had been doing in London. It was a -very harmless, matter-of-fact conversation, but it drew down many -jealous glances from Mr. Lang, which May perceived, but did not -heed. Why should she not enjoy this brief moment of happiness? - -"Shall I see you again before I leave? I'm going back on Monday," -Harold observed wistfully, when the tea-things had been packed up -for the return journey. - -[Illustration: "If he ever comes again!"] - -But she shook her head, knowing it was useless to invite him to call -upon her aunt; nor could she promise to visit Windermere Mansions. -"We shall be returning the end of next week, I hope," she answered -hurriedly, sorry to seem so inhospitable. "I shall be so glad to -leave London!" - -"Now, Mrs. Burnside," interrupted Mr. Lang, bustling up, "your -aunt's invited me to dine with you at eight; and if I'm to be back -in time to dress, we must look sharp. Sorry to have to say good-bye -to you, Miss Inglis," he added, turning to stately Esther with his -most patronising air. "I wish I could ask you to come back in the -launch with us; but there's so little room." - -"Thank you, I prefer a rowing-boat. I thoroughly disapprove of -steam launches on a crowded river like the Thames," calmly responded -she; whilst Miss Waller gasped, open-mouthed, at such effrontery. -Imagine a beggarly girl in an office daring to address such -criticism to the great Mr. Lang! - -The lovers had perforce to separate, for the rowing-boat would, of -course, be soon left behind by the launch. May took her seat with -a sinking heart at the prospect of Mr. Lang's company for the rest -of the day; and Harold was so silent all the way home that Esther -commented on it as they disembarked. - -"So this is the end of my little treat in honour of my rise of -salary!" she ruefully remarked. "I thought it would be pleasant on -the river; but I feel almost sorry we came. Certainly, Mrs. Poyser -was right in her opinion of 'pleasuring-days.'" - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -_Reprieved._ - - -"Now, May," began Miss Waller in her most portentous tone, on Monday -morning, "I must have an explanation with you. I'm going home this -week, for it's ruinously expensive being here; and to-day Mr. Lang -is coming for his answer. Without any beating about the bush, I -expect you to marry him." - -"Oh, aunt, don't--_don't_!" entreated May, wringing her hands. "I -cannot marry Mr. Lang." - -"What childish nonsense! Fancy refusing a house in Palace Gardens, -and all that money!" - -"I can't and won't marry him." - -"Very well, then, you and Doris must find another home. I have -pinched myself to keep you in luxury; but if you will be so wickedly -blind to your plain duty, I wash my hands of you." - -"I don't care one bit for myself, aunt; I could earn a living, -I'm sure, and I'd gladly do it. Let me try," pleaded May, "I will -promise never to cost you another penny, if you will only be so kind -as to give Doris a home until I am able to keep her myself." - -"Which will not be till Doomsday. Talk of earning your living--what -rubbish! Why, you haven't even one decent accomplishment. No, if -you leave my house, Doris goes, too; I won't have the little spoilt -monkey left on my hands." - -"But, aunt----" - -"Besides, think what advantages you could give Doris if you -married Mr. Lang--the best possible education, horses, carriages, -Continental trips, everything! If you really cared at all for your -child, you couldn't hesitate for a minute." - -It was a clever argument, and it made May waver as nothing else -could; and Miss Waller did not know whether to be glad or sorry that -just then Mr. Lang himself was announced. - -"Don't go, Miss Waller," he began, as the spinster, after a few -casual observations, was about to leave the room. "I've nothing to -say to Mrs. Burnside you may not hear as well. Your niece knows by -this time that I am anxious to have her for my wife. I want to marry -and settle down now, and I can promise you," he added, turning to -face May for the first time, "a most luxurious home--you've seen -it--both for yourself and your little girl. Your aunt wishes it, I -know; and I hope, Mrs. Burnside--May--you'll make me very happy by -saying you'll be my wife before Christmas." - -He came closer, and would have taken her hand; but she started -back. Her aunt's basilisk eyes were fixed on her, to add to her -discomfiture; but she said as firmly as she could, "I am very -grateful for your kindness, Mr. Lang; nevertheless, I must refuse -your offer, for I do not love you, and I could not marry any man -unless I did." - -"Now, really, Miss Waller," remonstrated the plutocrat, turning with -an injured air to the wrathful spinster, "I call this too bad! It -was understood between us that you would prepare Mrs. Burnside, so -that it might all be plain sailing. I'm not accustomed to ask and be -refused, I can tell you." - -"May must have lost her senses to reject such an offer, Mr. Lang," -returned Miss Waller, with an annihilating glance at her niece. "She -is an ungrateful, undutiful girl; and if she refuses you, I will -have nothing more to do with her." - -"Well," rejoined Mr. Lang, with a gulp, as if swallowing something -very nauseous to the taste, "I must confess I didn't expect to be -sent to the right-about like this. However, young ladies often -change their minds; and perhaps, when Mrs. Burnside thinks my offer -quietly over, she may alter her opinion. I've great faith in your -persuasions, Miss Waller. I've just had a telegram, saying a fall of -rock has damaged the machinery at the Springkloof, and I'm wanted -out there, so I must sail for the Cape at once. I expect to be away -some months; by November I shall probably be back in England. I give -Mrs. Burnside until then to consider my offer; I won't look upon -this as a final rejection. I'm sure, when she thinks of all I'm in a -position to offer, she can't be so foolish as to refuse." - -"How kind--how generous!" exclaimed Miss Waller, as May stood in -stony silence. "I promise in my niece's name that when you come back -she will accept you. I hope we shall see you again before you leave?" - -"Well, no, for I've a lot to do before I go. But I'll write to you; -and as soon as I possibly can I shall return for Mrs. Burnside's -answer." - -[Illustration: "How wonderful to meet you here!"--_p. 513._] - -As if in a sick dream, with this threat ringing in her ears, May -mechanically tendered him her limp hand in farewell. When they were -once more alone her aunt said in crisp, dry tones: - -"I shall return to Beachbourne on Wednesday, and make arrangements -for spending August and September in visiting amongst our friends in -the country. We have plenty of invitations. I have said all I need -say on the subject of Mr. Lang. Meanwhile, you can choose between -Palace Gardens and every luxury, and a life of starvation and -beggary for you and Doris." - -Despite the apparent calm with which Mr. Lang had taken May's -rejection of his flattering offer, he was nevertheless in a very bad -temper when he left the house and jumped into his victoria. He was -not accustomed to rebuffs--which made the fact that he had just been -rejected by a penniless widow, only saved from actual want by her -aunt's charity, doubly galling. - -"I'm mad to care so much about a pale-faced girl with nothing to say -for herself; and I really ought to do better. I could easily marry a -lady of title, or anybody I choose; and it would serve her right if -I went straight off and proposed to somebody else, just to show her -that rich husbands don't grow on every bush!" - -Revenge is always the first thought of a mean mind which is smarting -from a sense of injury. Mr. Lang chuckled over this idea for some -time, and the result was, that when Esther Inglis entered their -one sitting-room about half-past five that day, she found Mr. Lang -seated in the most comfortable chair, awaiting her. - -She instantly assumed her thorny manner; but it had no more effect -than it would have had upon a rhinoceros. "I've come to say good-bye -for the present, Miss Inglis," he airily remarked, as if his visit -were a matter of course. "I leave to-morrow for Johannesburg on -business; and as I shall probably see your brother, it would give me -great pleasure to take charge of anything you may wish to send him." - -Esther's handsome face relaxed. Really it was very kind and -thoughtful of Mr. Lang, who, with his influence, might prove a -valuable friend to Jack. - -"It is very good of you, and in his last letter Jack asked us to -send him some collars and ties; they are such a fearful price at -Johannesburg, and not good. But they are not bought yet, and you say -you leave to-morrow?" - -"Yes, but the shops will not be closed for some time, and my -victoria is at the door, if you will honour me by using it to go -where you wish." - -Esther hesitated a moment; but the opportunity of saving expensive -and troublesome postage, besides serving Jack, was too good to lose. -Mr. Lang rose, and indicated a box lying on the table. - -[Illustration: "Oh, don't thank me."] - -"I've brought you a little fruit, Miss Inglis, just sent to me from -my country place near Dorking. My head-gardener prides himself on -his peaches and nectarines; but I must leave you to judge." - -"Oh, thank you!" cried Esther, with sparkling eyes; for she had not -tasted a nectarine since leaving Mallowfleld. In a moment she had -undone the satin ribbon which tied down the lid, and was feasting -her eyes on such peaches as she had seldom seen. - -"As you seem fond of fruit, I'll give orders to my gardener to send -you a box periodically," observed Mr. Lang. "Oh, don't thank me; -I shall be away, and somebody may as well enjoy it. And if you'll -have the parcel and letters ready, my footman shall call for them -to-morrow morning." - -He accompanied Esther down to the street, where his beautifully -appointed carriage was waiting; and it must be confessed she enjoyed -finding herself seated behind a spruce coachman and footman once -more. "You will take this lady's orders," pompously commanded Mr. -Lang. "Keep the carriage as long as you like, Miss Inglis, and I'll -not forget about the parcel." - -So manifest was his desire to propitiate, that Esther could do no -less than bid him a civil farewell, with the hope that he might have -a pleasant journey. Then she rolled away, looking so much at home in -the smart carriage that Mr. Lang gazed after her admiringly. - -"By Jove, how well she sets the whole thing off! Looks like a lady -used to carriages all her life. May Burnside really isn't a patch -upon Esther Inglis; there is no mistake about that!" - -Had Miss Waller only been there to hear him, she might well have -trembled for the success of her darling scheme of marrying May to a -rich man. - - -[END OF CHAPTER TWELVE.] - - - - -[Illustration: EASTER EGG ROLLING IN WASHINGTON] - - -"Going to Mr. President's!" - -That is what the hundreds of little boys and girls will tell you any -Easter Monday morning, should you chance to stop them and ask their -destination as they go toddling along the streets of Washington with -baskets of eggs hanging on their arms and a glad delight shining in -their eyes. - -They make up a very "mixed" crowd, these children! There is the -dainty little miss in richly embroidered frock and wide silk sash, -with one tiny hand held tightly in the grasp of a big negro nurse -and the other hand clasping lovingly a basket of pretty coloured -eggs; there is another little girl in a very clean but much-faded -gingham or print apron, trotting along at her mother's side--the -mother dressed, perchance, in shabby black, belonging to the class -known in the Southern part of the States as the "poor whites"; there -is also the trio of little "darkey" girls, dancing merrily along the -sidewalk, swinging their egg-baskets as though with intention of -spilling the eggs over passers-by, yet never quite dropping them, -and singing the while as they keep step-- - - "Tra la la la, tra la la la, - Easter Monday morning!" - -There are nice, smart-looking little boys, strutting along proudly -in their first pair of knickerbockers, with pockets bulging out with -Easter eggs, their black nurses walking just a few steps behind -them; there are the poor white boys whose clothes are patched and -boots worn with toes protruding. On other days they sell newspapers, -black boots, and do "odd jobbs" to earn a few cents, but on Easter -Monday morning they somehow get together a collection of coloured -eggs and go to see the President. Then there are the little black -boys, some smartly dressed (for many of the coloured people of -Washington are well-to-do), and others as shabby as shabby can be. -But no matter. Are they not provided with Easter Monday eggs and -going up to the White House to see "Mr. President," who every Easter -Monday gives over his beautiful lawn to as many little boys and -girls as like to go and see him, and roll their eggs over the grassy -slopes that look out over the Potomac River? - -[Illustration: Lester Ralph. - -THE INVASION OF THE PRESIDENT'S LAWN.] - -On no other day during the year does Washington present so -interesting and picturesque an appearance as on Easter Monday, -and it is the happiest day of all the year with the children of -the Capitol City. In England, of course, Easter Monday is always -a Bank Holiday, but not so in the United States. In New York and -other large American cities banks and shops and schools are open -as usual; but in the district of Columbia, where Washington is -situated, it is a legal holiday. That in itself makes it a happy -time for the children. Then, add to the joy of having no lessons to -learn the fact that they are allowed to take dozens of coloured -eggs to the White House lawn and play the games of "egg-picking" and -"egg-rolling" as the specially invited guests of the President of -the United States, and it will be easily understood how festive an -occasion is Easter Monday to the children of Washington. - -Not even the oldest inhabitants of Washington can remember the time -when the boys and girls of the city did not celebrate Easter Monday -by "egg-rolling," although the children of fifty years ago rolled -their eggs down Capitol Hill, under the shadow of the magnificent -Capitol building, instead of on the White House lawn. Year after -year the children of former generations trudged up the great hill -with their egg-baskets over their arms and had the happiest times -imaginable with their Easter games. - -One Easter Monday, however, about twenty years ago, hundreds of -boys and girls went to Capitol Hill with their eggs just as they -had done in previous years, when they were astonished to be hustled -off the grounds by special messengers and policemen from the Senate -and House of Representatives, who declared that the distinguished -Senators and Congressmen in convention assembled had made up their -minds that their "door-yard" was no longer to be disfigured for days -after Easter Monday with broken eggs and vari-coloured shells! They -were weary of having their highly polished boots smeared with yolks -of eggs, and Easter Monday "egg-rolling" in Washington was to be -ended! - -Then there went up all about the precincts of the nation's Capitol a -loud wail of anguish and wrath from hundreds of childish throats, in -which the numerous nurses and attendants joined. Many boys and girls -gathered on the steps of the building, sobbing in disappointment, -some of the larger boys throwing out direful hints of vengeance -to be wreaked on the heads of the nation's law-makers; but the -stately Senators remained stony-hearted, in spite of it all. In the -midst of the tearful hubbub the President's carriage drove past, -and President Hayes (the then head of the nation) drew up near the -portico to inquire why the children wept instead of rolling their -eggs on Easter Monday. - -A chorus of voices informed him that the "nasty Senators wouldn't -let them play any more because they messed up the grounds"; and then -again from the throng of little ones confronting the President there -arose fresh outbursts of grief and indignation. - -[Illustration: Lester Ralph. - -"GOING TO MR. PRESIDENT'S."] - -"Never you mind, children," said President Hayes soothingly. "You -may come right up to my house and play in my back yard." - -Then the mourning was turned to rejoicing. Every child knew that in -all the city of Washington there was not so wonderful a "back yard" -as that which belonged to the White House. Its beautifully kept -slopes were ideal places for "egg-rolling," and then there was the -great fountain in the middle of the lawn! So when the President's -carriage started to return to the White House, it was followed by -several hundred boys and girls swinging their egg-baskets, and -singing and shouting out their gratitude to the President of the -United States, who was going to let them play in his garden. I doubt -if ever an American President had an escort of which he had such -cause to feel proud as that which accompanied President Hayes to the -White House gates on that memorable Easter Monday. - -[Illustration: Lester Ralph. - -ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE.] - -Outside the gates they were kept waiting for about an hour, while -the President gave his hurried instructions to the gardeners to put -the place in readiness. At eleven o'clock the gates swung open, and -from that time till six o'clock the children rolled their eggs. - -Ever since then Washington children have gone regularly every Easter -Monday to play in the President's "back yard," each of President -Hayes's successors having kept up the custom of inserting in the -Washington papers each year an invitation to all the children -residents of the town to spend the day rolling eggs on the lawn. - -In President Hayes's time his own children joined in the sport, and -during the last term of President Cleveland the President's little -girls, who were considered too young to roll eggs with the elder -children, were kept on the back portico with their mother or their -nurse, where they could watch the progress of the games. - -Two years ago, on Easter Monday, I spent the day on the White House -lawn, watching the big "Presidential children's party," as it is -called. The gates were opened at a little after ten o'clock, and -during the day there were several thousand children playing in the -grounds. Many of the children, besides carrying their baskets of -eggs, carried also their luncheon-baskets, and when tired of games -they sat about on the grass, picnic-fashion, eating bread-and-butter -and cakes and hard-boiled eggs. I should here mention that, although -the President does not consider it necessary to make any rules for -the preservation of order among his young guests--it being taken -for granted that all children invited to the President's garden -will behave in their very best style--he always requests that those -who accept his invitation to roll their eggs on his lawn will -be particular to bring with them only eggs that are thoroughly -hard boiled, for in the game of "egg-picking" the use of raw or -soft-boiled eggs would be, to say the least, most inconvenient! - -The game of "egg-picking" is a very simple one, although it is -entered into most enthusiastically by the boys and girls. The -children separate themselves into groups of eight or ten, then seat -themselves on the grass at the top of the slopes and roll their eggs -down to the bottom. The eggs that make the descent without getting -cracked or "picked" may be brought back and re-rolled, until they -do get cracked or until the game is over, while those that get -"picked" are placed back in the baskets. The boy who can hit his -neighbour's egg and "pick" it without "picking" his own is looked -upon as something of a hero. Of course, toward the end of the game -many of the players drop out, all of their eggs having got "picked." -Very often the players are reduced to two who show themselves -particularly expert, and then there is great excitement watching for -the winner. - -Besides the game of "egg-picking" there are egg-ball games, egg -croquet games; but plain "egg-rolling," which consists of rolling -eggs down the slopes, going after them, and rolling them again and -again, seems to be the favourite amusement. Then, too, the children -engage in "jumping the rope" and other similar amusements. - -Although many of the children spend the entire day on the lawn, -numbers of them remain for a couple of hours only. By this means -the grounds are not kept so crowded as they would otherwise be. The -hours between three and five o'clock, however, are considered the -most enjoyable, as during that time the President always arranges to -have the Marine Baud to entertain the children with music, and it -is at that time also that the President makes his appearance out on -the back portico to greet the children. It is, of course, thoroughly -understood that so busy a man as the President cannot spend his -whole day with his young visitors. He entertains them by turning -over his grounds to them, and they enjoy themselves in their own way -without molestation. - -On the afternoon of the Easter Monday which I spent in Washington -President McKinley came out on the portico at about half-past three. -He took off his hat and waved it to the children, who all gathered -as near as possible about the portico and shouted out-- - -"Howdy do, Mr. President? Howdy do, howdy do?"--the boys taking off -their caps and the little girls waving their handkerchiefs. - -"How do you do, children? Glad to see you, and hope you are having a -good time!" shouted back the President. - -[Illustration: Lester Ralph. - -PRESIDENT McKINLEY GREETING HIS YOUNG VISITORS.] - -"Splendid time, Mr. President, and thank you for your invitation," -called back the delighted little guests. - -"That's right!" returned the President, laughing. "I hope you'll all -come again next Easter Monday." - -"Thank you, Mr. President. Good-bye, good-bye!" shouted the -children. Then President McKinley went back to his duties of State -and the children returned to their egg-rolling. Mrs. McKinley -sat on the portico most of the afternoon watching the merriment. -Occasionally a little boy or girl would edge up to the portico, and -push a blue or red egg through the railings, saying: - -"Please, Mrs. President, I've brought you one of my eggs to keep!" - -Mrs. McKinley accepted the little presents with the sweetest of -smiles and a "Thank you." - -At about two o'clock in the afternoon the White House lawn looked -like a large picnic ground. Some of the children had brought napkins -to lay upon the grass when they should be ready to eat their -luncheon, and on the napkins they spread their boiled eggs and -bread-and-butter. One little girl, when I complimented her on her -daintiness, explained: - -"I does it so I won't get eggshells on Mr. President's grass! My -mamma told me I must be careful, cos it wouldn't be very nice if the -President of the 'Nited States had to go round to-morrow picking up -eggshells after me!" - -During the afternoon there were several slight accidents at the -fountain. Some of the children delighted in digging all the meat -from their eggs through the smallest possible aperture and then -floating the empty shells in the lower basin of the fountain where -the water was undisturbed. In trying to keep their improvised ships -from sailing away, two little girls fell into the water, but they -were quickly rescued by their nurses and taken home to be dried. - -At five o'clock the crowd began to disperse, and at a little past -six the small guests of the President had all left the lawn and -were on their way to their various homes. Such a variety of homes, -indeed, they went to! Some to magnificent mansions on Connecticut -Avenue. Their fathers were high Government officials, Senators, -members of the Cabinet, and their mothers well-known society -women. Other little boys and girls went to very humble homes and -minded their little baby brothers and sisters while their mothers -got supper; and then there were the homes in the localities given -over almost entirely to the negro population. Before the War their -parents and grandparents had been slaves, little dreaming that their -descendants would ever be invited along with the children of the -aristocratic whites to play in the President's "back yard"! - -By the way, what a sight that "back yard" did present on the morning -following Easter Monday! There were four gardeners busily at work -with rakes and brooms and baskets. They were gathering up the litter -of eggshells, breadcrumbs, bits of paper, lost playthings, and tiny -bits of muslin and calico that had somehow got torn off the dresses -of some of the children. At the fountain one of the gardeners was -fishing out pieces of string and floating shells. It was four -o'clock when the garden was finally "picked up" and shorn of its -festive appearance. It was then absolutely "spick and span," and -no one could ever have guessed that the day before it had been a -playground for several thousand children! - - ELIZABETH L. BANKS. - - - - -[Illustration: decorative] - -FORGIVENESS. - - - Within a spacious hall, before a fire - Whose flick'ring light danced weirdly on his brow, - Stood Peter mutely brooding o'er his vow - To die with Christ, though thousands should conspire - To wreak their vengeance, profitless and dire, - On Christ and all who faith in Him avow. - With sin the soul of Peter struggled now, - When, "Known, or not, to Jesus?" men inquire. - - "I know Him not"--thus, falsely, thrice he swore; - And think you that because this weak man fell - The God-Man would deny him evermore? - Christ looked upon him, and that look did spell: - "For thee My soul shall on the Cross be riven, - And, therefore, Peter, is thy sin forgiven!" - - LOUIS H. VICTORY. - -[Illustration: OUR ROLL OF HEROIC DEEDS - -The above picture records a brave attempted rescue on the part of -Private Frederick Lakeman Banks, of the London Rifle Brigade. When -on the way to the Rainham Rifle Range some time ago, Banks and -several of his companions were attracted to this spot by the cries -of some bystanders, who stated that a child had fallen into the -thick muddy water of the tidal creek and had disappeared. Banks -immediately threw off his coat, plunged into the filthy water, -and after a three minutes' search succeeded in finding the boy. -Unhappily, the child was past help; but, all the same, the gallantry -displayed by the rescuer was rewarded by the bestowal of the Bronze -Medal of THE QUIVER Heroes' Fund.] - - - - -[Illustration: MISS LUCRETIA'S NEW IDEA. - -H V Brock] - -_A COMPLETE STORY._ - -By M. H. Cornwall Legh, Author of "The Steep Ascent," Etc. - - -I. - -"So poor Annie is dead!" Miss Lucretia repeated as she -laid down the black-edged letter which she had just read through for -the third time and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief already damp -and flabby. "Poor Annie! So soon after poor Edward's death too! And -now I wonder what will become of poor little Amy?" - -She repeated the adjective which seemed most appropriate as often as -she liked, for she was only speaking to herself. - -Miss Lucretia lived alone in a very small house, which was one of -a row, all just alike, with a bow-window apiece for their glory, -and a little bit of garden and a fence and a gate. They were called -Primrose Cottages, despite the fact that there were no primroses -about them. - -Thirlambury was a very dull, behind-the-age little town, and people -thought Miss Lucretia a very dull, behind-the-age little lady. She -thought so herself; for she had always taken life meekly. - -Lucretia was the only one of the three sisters--of whose happy -girlhood together the old maid was thinking as she wiped away -her tears--who had been at all meek. Constantia and Ann had both -been strong-charactered, masterful girls, in accordance with the -traditions of their family. With Constantia this decided turn had -met with the happiest development. It had enabled her to manage to -perfection a husband and family, and it was with pardonable pride -that she now looked at her six successful sons and daughters, -all brought up just as they should have been, physically, -intellectually, and morally; of whom the last had just left the -nursery for the school-room. - -With Ann the family characteristics had gone in the wrong direction. -Her strong will had led her to marry a very unsatisfactory little -man, whom his family finally exported to New Zealand, with her and -their four children, rejoicing over the happy riddance. Out there -Constantia did not like to say, providentially, though that was the -adverb which suggested itself--the four children took diphtheria, -and every one of them died. - -When the grass had grown green on those four graves, another -child was born--little Amy--and Aunt Lucretia was asked to be its -godmother. And now, there was this child of five years old left -without either parent. They had not been first-class parents, -but Miss Lucretia did not think of that; her heart being of too -old-fashioned make for such philosophy. - -"An orphan, poor little dear!" she said to herself, and her -handkerchief became damp again at the thought. - -"Constantia has arranged already about her being brought to -England," Miss Lucretia soliloquised. (Being alone, she had got into -the way of soliloquising.) "How prompt Constantia always is! And now -what will become of the child?" - -It was not an idle speculation. Miss Lucretia was revolving -something in her mind--an idea so new, so absorbing, that over it -her eyes dried, and she put back the letter into its envelope with -untrembling fingers. - -"I am sure I could do it!" she said at last, speaking aloud this -time, and with a great deal of determination. "A child of five -cannot cost much to keep, and there are many little ways in which -I could reduce my expenditure." Then she relapsed into silent -thought again. She was making deep calculations, wondering how an -income which just sufficed for her and her faithful Fanny could -be stretched at the four corners so as to cover the expenses of -one more member of humanity. Such a little member that in a large -household she could be received and fed and clothed for some years -to come without any perceptible difference in the outgoings; but -this was a very small household, and the matter had to be considered. - -Miss Lucretia's income was of the kind described as modest; but she -was a careful manager, and, as everybody knew how poor she was, -nothing was expected of her in the way of entertaining beyond a -quiet cup of afternoon tea, and the promoters of charity lists went -away from her door contented if she only gave half-a-crown. - -She always did give the half-crown, and a penny to the organ-grinder -who came round weekly, and sixpence each to the butcher's boy, the -baker's boy, and the grocer's boy at Christmas; the same every year, -not allowing herself any wild excursions of charity till the regular -subscriptions had been provided for. - -But it was not in her philanthropies that Miss Lucretia proposed -making her substantial reductions. There were a great many little -luxuries which could be curtailed. - -Regarding food, people would have said that no one was more -economical than Miss Lucretia, but Miss Lucretia herself knew -better. It was true that there never was any waste in this little -establishment. A pound of meat was never ordered when three-quarters -of a pound would do; and every scrap of food was eaten. But the -meat and the milk and the butter ordered for 4, Primrose Cottages -were always of the very best. The eggs must be newlaid, and not -selected. The pot of jam--"preserves," Miss Lucretia called it, -with old-fashioned elegance--in which she and Fanny indulged once -a fortnight, must be of whole fruit in syrup; not the marvels of -cheapness in two-pound jars. - -"Why," thought Miss Lucretia now to herself, "should I buy butter -at eighteenpence a pound, when they say the Normandy butter, or -the Brittany, is really excellent? And it does seem a sinful waste -to give two shillings for tea when one can get it quite good, -the Vicar's wife tells me, at sixteen-pence. Indeed, I have seen -phenomenal tea at a shilling." And so on. - -The little lady proceeded with her reductions till she was quite -convinced that Amy's coming need make no real difference in Fanny's -comfort--the question which had pressed most upon her mind. - -Then there were Amy's clothes to be thought of. Well, they would not -cost much. There was a gown hanging up now in the cupboard which -might be cut up for her. - -Then there was a crimson merino dress which Miss Lucretia had -bought last summer for the Vicarage garden-party--not without some -misgivings as to the choice of so unwearing a colour, but with the -solace to her conscience of knowing it could be dyed. - -That would make a sweet little frock and cloak for Amy; for the -dress had only been worn twice, and its wearer had held it up very -carefully out of the dust. - -Miss Lucretia went up to the little box-room opening out of her -bedroom, and turned out a number of old treasures--things she had -kept ever since her girlhood, carefully folded, wrong side out, -and covered with tissue-paper. Here was her bridesmaid's dress for -Constantia's wedding--that would cut up into a lovely Sunday frock; -and here was a piece of china silk which had never been made up till -Miss Lucretia grew too old for white dresses; and other things that -would all come in. Yes, she would have no difficulty in dressing -little Amy, and making her look just as smart as the children at -Beaconsfield Mansion when occasion arose for it. She hoped the -occasions would arise, that her child would be asked to parties, -like other children, and with a new interest the old woman thought -of the different families of her acquaintance. - -And now about a room for Amy. The little box-room must be cleared -out, and that would make a charming nest for her. The old chintz -with the rosebuds on it Miss Lucretia had just taken from its paper -would be the very thing for curtains. A little bed would just -fit here behind the door, and a washstand there, and so on. Miss -Lucretia planned it all out with absorbing interest. The question -was, where was the money to come from for buying the furniture? -There were certain things in the box-room which could be sold. Miss -Lucretia's harp; she never played on it now, and harping was out of -fashion, so it would not be wanted for Amy. And that portfolio of -engravings--and---- She had soon marked out enough of her treasures -to make the furnishing of the little room an easy matter. - -Then she went downstairs and divulged her great project to Fanny. -Her co-operation was very necessary, and her mistress approached her -a little timidly. - -"Fanny, I am thinking of having a child to live with me." - -"Bless us! ma'am, a child?" - -"Yes, my poor sister's little orphan." - -Fanny's heart was warm. She listened to Miss Lucretia's plans and -wishes without any crushing comment, but at the end she remarked, -"Well, I should have thought as Mrs. Dalrymple would have taken her; -she is so rich and with that big place and all; but if she don't -feel disposed that way, and you do, ma'am, well, I suppose the poor -little soul had best come to us." That was quite enough, and now -Miss Lucretia hurried out of the house, and into the High Street, to -inquire about the price of children's beds. It was early in the day, -of course, to enter into such details, but then, the whole affair -was so interesting that they could not be put off till to-morrow. - -As Miss Lucretia walked down the High Street, she was attracted by -a toyshop, and found herself straying into it to inquire the price -of a doll in the window. It would be very silly to buy one so soon, -and before any of the necessaries of life were provided for. But the -temptation proved too strong for her. She went in and bought it--the -first present she would give to _her child_. - -Miss Lucretia spent an hour in the furniture shop. She had to -arrange first with the proprietor about the sale of her own -belongings, and then to choose the furniture for the room. She -found she wanted only the prettiest, nicest things for Amy, though -the cheapest for their solid value would have been her main object -if for herself. Then there was a lovely paper, with nursery rhyme -pictures all over it, which so fascinated her that she ordered -half-a-dozen pieces of it to come on approval. - -Altogether, it was a most exciting afternoon, and Miss Lucretia -came home with a springing step, and radiant eyes, and a general -bearing of youthfulness, such as she had not known for the last -twenty years. A bright golden glow had suddenly overspread the grey -landscape of her life, such as the sun sometimes throws at sunset, -when it looks out from under a cloud at the end of a long grey day. - -Before the post went out, she wrote a letter to Constantia, -announcing her intention of taking Amy for her own, which gave a -delightful seal of finality to her decision. - - -II. - -"I could not have believed that Lucretia would be so foolish. Just -fancy! she wants to adopt Amy!" was Mrs. Dalrymple's comment, as -she read her sister's letter; and everyone at the breakfast table -exclaimed. - -"It is a very generous idea," remarked Mr. Dalrymple mildly. He had -always been a mild sort of man, and marriage with Constantia had not -made him less so. - -"Generous! yes. Lucretia is always generous. You know the difficulty -I had in stopping her giving expensive presents to the children; but -it is so very foolish. I shall write her a letter, of course, and -tell her that we intend to have Amy ourselves. Poor Lucretia! Fancy -her with the charge of a child!" - -So Constantia wrote her letter. It contained about a quarter of -the words that Lucretia had used, and was very sensible, kind and -decided. There was no answer required to it. - -Great was Mrs. Dalrymple's surprise, therefore, when by return of -post came a reply, not of acquiescence, but setting forth the other -aunt's superior claim as godmother, an idea which, as Constantia -remarked, was simply absurd. - -"I shall have to go to Thirlambury myself," she said: "though it -is not very convenient." It was often not very convenient to go to -Thirlambury. - -[Illustration: Then she divulged her great project to Fanny. - -H V Brock] - -In the meantime, Miss Lucretia had been indulging in her new -day-dream, till every bit of her life had been remodelled in -anticipation, and brought into harmony with her coming work and -responsibility as an adopted mother. Already she attached to herself -that beautiful title, the missing of which had been the sole sorrow -of her life. As a young girl, Lucretia's day-dreams had not been of -lovers, but of marriage; the joys of children clinging round her -neck, the merry voices about the house, the little feet pattering up -and down. - -And now she counted the days to the one coming so near, when -she should feel the real warm arms of little Amy clasped round -"godmamma's" neck, and fold the child in her own with the new -wonderful joy of possession. She felt that she could hold up her -head again among women, and that the life which a week ago had -seemed to hold nothing more except advancing infirmities was full of -new possibilities and ever-increasing interest. Miss Lucretia lived -again. - -Miss Lucretia actually bought the bed, which the shopman had urged -her to purchase at once, or it might be gone, as he had no other -bedstead for a child. - -As Miss Lucretia relinquished one after another of her own comforts -and conveniences, the blessedness of giving grew more and more -apparent to her. Nothing in life had ever given her a joy like the -joy of this sacrifice. - -Four days had passed so, and Miss Lucretia was just planning which -plot of the small garden space allowed to a Primrose cottage might -be spared from beans and cauliflowers to make a flowerbed for Amy, -when a ring was heard at the door-bell. Miss Lucretia answered it -herself, as Fanny was out, and there stood Constantia! - -[Illustration: There stood Constantia!] - -Miss Lucretia was always delighted to see her sister, and made the -most of her rather infrequent visits. But to-day a kind of misgiving -came over her at the unexpected sight of Constantia's smiling face; -and a sensation of defeat as Constantia uttered, in her brisk, -cheerful voice, the words, "And how are you, Lucretia? You didn't -expect to see me?" - -Lucretia welcomed her, as usual, and took her into the little -parlour, which was drawing-room or dining-room according to the time -of day. It was drawing-room now, and the dining-table stood folded, -with a cloth and some ornaments on it, in a corner; everything was -as neat and carefully arranged as it always was; each chair in that -particular spot which experience had proved to be the best for it. - -"How nice and tidy you always look, Lucretia," was Mrs. Dalrymple's -first remark, as she sat down with a genial laugh in the visitor's -arm-chair. "You must be struck with the difference when you come to -The Towers. With six children, it is impossible to keep everything -in its place!" - -Miss Lucretia asked after the six children, categorically, staving -off the subject which she knew very well had brought her sister to -Thirlambury. - -"The girls are as well as possible," answered their mother, massing -them, for brevity; "and they are all looking forward so much to -having Amy." Mrs. Dalrymple was a person who took bulls by their -horns. She always knew exactly what she intended to do with the -bull--the great secret of success in life--and was quite sure about -its being the best thing that could be done. - -"But I intended to have Amy," answered Miss Lucretia, in almost as -firm a voice, but putting herself at a disadvantage at once by her -slip of the past tense. - -"Yes, I know you did. You wrote me all about it. It was exceedingly -kind and good of you to think of such a thing, but, of course, it -was quite out of the question. As I told you when I wrote, we intend -to take her." - -"Didn't you get my second letter?" - -"Yes, and I saw by that you did not quite understand mine to you. I -wrote in a hurry, and I suppose I did not make myself clear." - -Constantia Dalrymple was under the impression that she was the most -truthful of women. - -"You made yourself perfectly clear," answered Lucretia, with a -quiet dignity which was not usual with her. "But before you spoke -of taking the child, I had made up my mind to do so. I have spoken -to Fanny about it, and she is perfectly willing to accept the extra -economies we shall have to practise, and any trouble Amy will give -her. Of course, I shall take charge of her myself." - -"How good of Fanny! I have always thought she must have enough to do -with the whole work of your house, and she works a good deal in the -garden, too, does she not?" - -Miss Lucretia looked a trifle uncomfortable. - -"I think Fanny will enjoy having a young life about the house," she -replied, rather hurriedly; "just as I shall myself." - -Constantia smiled. It was not exactly a nice smile, but perhaps she -did not know that. - -"I do not think either you or Fanny have had much to do with -children," she said. "It is all very well to have them with you for -a few hours at a time, when they are in their best frocks and on -their best behaviour, and you have nothing to do with them except -amuse them. But when you have the whole responsibility of a child, -and are obliged to look after her from morning till night, it is a -very different thing." - -"Of course it is," said Miss Lucretia. - -It was that very fact, comprising as it did the constant demand -on time and thought and labour, with all the rich reward of -corresponding affection from the child in its dependence, that -made the sweetness of this dream of motherhood. But Lucretia could -not put this into words. She was never very fluent with her deeper -ideas, which were, perhaps, instincts rather than formulated -notions, and she was least fluent of all with Constantia. - -"And how could you ever afford it?" went on Mrs. Dalrymple. - -Lucretia explained her scheme of retrenchment, and all her little -plans. - -"But you won't be able to go on dressing Amy with your old things -for ever," said Constantia. "And, then, there will be hats and boots -and shoes. - -"She may be ill, too; children have to go through measles and -whooping-cough, and that sort of thing: how will you afford to pay -the doctor?" - -Lucretia was silent for a moment; Constantia had such a very -convincing way of saying things, and making all that was unpractical -and visionary appear so; but she was not really vanquished. - -"I think one must trust for that----" she began, at which Constantia -smiled again. - -"How about schooling, too? A girl's education is a very expensive -thing nowadays. I am sure Edie and Gwendoline have cost us as much -as the boys." - -"Amy is only five now, and for some years to come I think of -teaching her myself." The present tense this time, for she was on -her mettle. "You know we were very thoroughly grounded by Miss Cox." - -"That is a long time ago, Lucretia!" - -"Yes, it is a long time, but I suppose the principles of grammar and -arithmetic are the same, and I have not forgotten how to read!" - -It surprised Mrs. Dalrymple to see her sister pluck up so much -spirit, but this defiant attitude did not affect her. There was in -her such a certainty of being in the right, and of causing the right -to prevail, that she was able to take all Lucretia's opposition very -quietly. It was obstinate of her sister to hold out like this--weak -people always were obstinate--and it was extremely foolish, but her -surrender was only a matter of time. - -Lucretia went on talking, urging her suit in a way that would have -struck some people as pathetic, but Constantia was not much given -to seeing the pathos in life; her view of things in general was -optimistic, and unless a sorrow was thrust before her she did not -look at it. - -Constantia let Lucretia talk on until she naturally ceased, after -repeating herself a good many times, in the way that peculiarly -weakens a cause. Then she brought up her reserve force. - -"But do you think it would be good for the child to be by herself, -just with you and old Fanny?" - -Fanny was ten years younger than her mistress, and Lucretia realised -how very old fifty-nine must be. - -Constantia paused a moment. Then she went on to point out all the -drawbacks of a bringing-up such as Amy must have with two old -maids--not using the term, but dwelling on the characteristics -implied in it. - -"What would you do with the child if she were naughty?" Mrs. -Dalrymple asked by way of a test question. "She is sure to have a -strong will of her own; you know what poor Ann was." - -Miss Lucretia could not answer the question, naughtiness seeming to -her as multi-form a thing as illness, and the treatment for either -depending upon its form and cause. She replied that her idea was to -bring the child up on a system of love; a vague answer which did not -satisfy her sister. - -"Bringing up children is not such an easy and simple matter as -people might think who have had no experience." Here Constantia -herself stood on a firm foundation. "And it is much more difficult -to bring up one child by itself than when there are others for it to -consort with." - -Then Mrs. Dalrymple proceeded to dilate on the smallness of Primrose -Cottage, which was certainly a very poor little place compared with -The Towers. There Amy would have the grounds to play about in; she -would share the girls' governess, ride on Gwendoline's pony, and -Nurse, who had been so splendid with Bertram and Edie, would only be -too pleased to have a child again. - -"It always makes her and me quite unhappy to look at the empty -nursery," said Mrs. Dalrymple, "though the children have only flown -into the schoolroom." - -There was a weight of truth in every sentence Constantia uttered, -which made it strike like a battering-ram against the walls of Miss -Lucretia's airy castle. At last she gave a little cry--a cry in -words: - -"Oh, don't tell me that I mustn't have Amy!" - -"I do not say that you must not have her," answered Constantia. "As -you say, you are the child's godmother, and the elder of us two. I -leave it for you to decide. Only, I want you to think which would -really be best for Amy." - -Released thus, suddenly and unexpectedly, from the paws of the -cat, the little mouse of Miss Lucretia's soul ran trembling into a -corner, while the cat smiled, sweetly enough this time, as those may -who have won the game. It was a good cat, too, which had only been -doing its duty. - -At this moment, Fanny came in, bringing tea, and Mrs. Dalrymple -greeted her with her usual warmth and kindness, rejoicing in the -anticipation of eating some of that delicious home-made cake which -was always so much better than they could get their cook at The -Towers to make; asking with sympathy after Fanny's rheumatism, and -giving her an abundance of those smiles which were so taking; while -Lucretia sat, looking old and small and withered, with a face that -seemed as if it would never smile again. - -She had come to her hour of sacrifice; the great sacrifice of her -life. Even with Lucretia the age was not past when sacrifices may be -lit up by a golden halo of romance. There had been a halo round the -sacrifice of all her little comforts which she had already made in -will for Amy. The love that prompted it had turned the self-denial -into a part of the joy of her prospective guardianship. - -But round this sacrifice there hovered no such brightness. It was -only like herself, a poor, common-place, drab-coloured thing. -No sense of heroism could attend it; common-sense demanded it, -so Constantia had proved, but, even with Constantia's provings, -Lucretia could not have offered up her precious sacrifice upon the -altar of common-sense. But the other altar, which stood hard by, -the altar of love, was one that she could not thus disdain. The -result of the pitiful struggle was certain, or Constantia would not -have given the game into Lucretia's hands; but Lucretia was not -sharp enough to see that. To her the whole brunt of choosing was -as real, the action of her will as decided, as if a long habit of -unselfishness had not made any other course impossible. - -It was better for Amy that she should go to Constantia. Then to -Constantia she must go. - -"I suppose you are right," she said at last, in words as commonplace -as befitted her unheroic sacrifice. - -"I was sure you would agree with me when you came to think about -it," Constantia answered, gently now, for it was part of her system, -the one, perhaps, which had made it so successful with her children, -never to use unnecessary force. "I am sure a month hence you will -feel very glad that you have not a child turning your peaceful life -and your pretty cottage upside down." - -There was no use trying to make Constantia understand; and, if she -could have understood, it would have made no difference. - -Miss Lucretia said nothing. It was time now for Mrs. Dalrymple to -go, and, finishing her second cup of tea, she wished her sister an -affectionate good-bye, with the promise of a hamper of game from The -Towers, where they were just going to have one of their "big shoots." - -[Illustration: She had come to the great sacrifice of her life. - -H V Brock] - -"Perhaps I might have done it more kindly," Constantia thought, as -she drove in her cab to the station. "But it was such a foolish -idea. I am glad Lucretia saw it for herself in the end." - -Miss Lucretia went upstairs with slow, old footsteps, after her -sister had gone. The last red glow had faded from her landscape, and -everything was grey again, a shade deeper grey now, as it must go on -growing deeper, till the night. She went into the little room, and, -as she looked at the little bed which was never to hold her child, a -tear came up into each of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. - -The doll lay on the bed, wrapped up in the white muslin that was to -have made its underclothes, looking like a tiny corpse. It seemed to -Lucretia like her dream of motherhood as it was now, the dead body -of something that had never really lived. - -She went to the window and looked out on the grey, darkening -landscape, and over it there twinkled one faint star. She stood -watching, and the star grew brighter, then another came out, and -then another. For a long time Lucretia looked up: then she knelt -down, looking up still. - -The far-off light from the stars seemed to be shining on her face as -she turned it to Fanny, when that faithful woman came up at last to -bring her mistress down to supper. - -"Miss Amy is going to Mrs. Dalrymple," she said, quietly, and with a -little smile. "My sister left it to me to decide whether she should -go to The Towers or come here, and I gave her up to them, Fanny. I -am glad she is going to my sister. She will be happier there." - - - - -[Illustration: SOME FAMOUS EASTER HYMNS] - - -There can be no two opinions as to the most famous Easter hymn. -In almost every church throughout the land, and in most chapels -too, there arises, every Easter morning, the well-known strains of -"Jesus Christ is risen to-day, Alleluia!" There may be an occasional -difference in the wording of a line here and there, as the hymn -appears in various hymnals, but practically it is the one hymn which -binds all Christian congregations together on Easter morning. It -is our Easter greeting one to another, in the joy and hope of that -blessed day, like the greeting of the pious Russian on the same -morn, who salutes every passer-by with the words "Christ is risen!" - -[Illustration: (_Photo: W. and D. Downey, Ebury Street, S.W._) - -THE REV. S. BARING-GOULD.] - -[Illustration: (_Facsimile of part of the original manuscript of Mr. -Baring-Gould's Easter Hymn._)] - - On the Resurrection Morning - Soul & Body meet again, - No more sorrow, no more weeping, - No more pain. - Here awhile they must be parted - And the Flesh its Sabbath keep, - Waiting, in a holy stillness - Fast asleep. - - * * * * - - O the beauty! O the gladness - Of that Resurrection Day, - Which shall never, thro' long ages, - Pass away. - On that happy Easter morning - All the graves their dead restore, - Father, sister, child & Mother - Meet once more. - - S. Baring Gould. - -It is strange, therefore, that no one has even an indistinct -notion as to who wrote this famous hymn. Its author is, and long -has been, unknown; and, equally strange, there is almost the same -to be said of the composer of its famous tune. For the tune is as -great a favourite as the words, and, in fact, whilst the words do -occasionally alter, as stated, the tune is ever the same one we know -so well. The honour of being its composer has by some been ascribed -to Henry Carey, but there are no certain grounds for the assumption, -fine musician though he was. So completely has this tune associated -itself, however, with the hymn that few people are aware that some -collections of hymns have alternative tunes to the great song of -praise for Easter Day. But even Monk's tune to it in "Hymns Ancient -and Modern," takes quite an inferior place; it is seldom, or never, -used. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Elliott and Fry, Baker Street, W._) - -DR. E. H. TURPIN.] - -Possibly the immense popularity of "Jesus Christ is risen to-day" -depends on two things. Firstly, the words are extremely simple--a -little child can understand them; secondly, the tune is one of the -very best "congregational" ones of any collection. - -Were I asked to name the next favourite Easter hymn, I should -certainly give the palm to one of the most beautiful hymns of -the Church of Christ--a hymn which has solaced and sustained the -hearts of thousands in their dark hours of grief for the loss of -their loved ones, just as it has rejoiced the hearts of so many -loving servants of the Master at their Easter festivals. I refer to -Baring-Gould's touching hymn "On the Resurrection morning." - -The comfort derived from the sweet words of hope and promise in this -hymn by members of the Church militant here on earth will never be -known till that "Resurrection morning." - -The Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould has kindly given me, for THE QUIVER, -a copy of the manuscript of this hymn, and a few notes about it -which cannot but prove interesting. It was composed on May Day, in -1864, he says; and, certainly, that is appropriate enough, for do -not all poets sing of May Day as a special day for the awakening -and rejoicing of nature? Horbury, that robust Yorkshire village -where Mr. Baring-Gould was then the curate, was the birthplace of -"On the Resurrection morning," as it was of what has proved one of -the six most "popular" hymns of the world, viz. "Onward, Christian -soldiers." So Horbury enjoys no mean fame. No one speaks more -lovingly of Horbury than does its former curate, now so famous; and -Horbury--church, chapel, and "non-connected"--is proud to a degree -of Sabine Baring-Gould and of the fame he has for ever given its -name by these and other noted hymns. - -[Illustration: "ON THE RESURRECTION MORNING." - -(_Facsimile of Dr. Turpin's Musical Setting._)] - -It will be noticed that there is a word or two slightly different -in the author's copy from those of the usually printed text. In one -case his manuscript is not perhaps the better. "Which shall never, -through long ages, pass away," is not, in the writer's opinion, -grander than "Which shall not, through endless ages, pass away." -Dr. E. H. Turpin's fine tune to "On the Resurrection morning" has -the merit of exactly suiting it. All can sing it, and that makes -it so popular. The composer, with great kindness, has also allowed -me to reproduce his manuscript of it here; and it is only fair to -say that did the renown of the celebrated organist, as a composer, -depend only on this one tune, so linked to the hymn, it would not -easily perish whilst joyful hearts on Easter Day, and sad hearts at -the graveside of loved ones, join in singing "On the Resurrection -morning." - -[Illustration: _Come, ye faithful, raise the strain._ - - _S. John Damascene._ _Arthur Henry Brown._ - -FACSIMILE OF THE COMPOSER'S ORIGINAL SETTING.] - -To the Rev. J. M. Neale, who died about the time when Baring-Gould -wrote the hymn just spoken of, the Christian world is indebted for -three splendid Easter hymns. Of these it is difficult to say which -is the finest, though perhaps, being quite original, we should give -that honour to the well-known "The foe behind, the deep before." -Every section of the Church of Christ sings with deep and solemn -pathos those beautiful lines-- - - "No longer must the mourners weep, - Nor call departed Christians dead; - For death is hallow'd into sleep, - And every grave is but a bed"-- - -following so closely on the joyful strain of "Christ is risen!" in -the preceding verse. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: William Gill, Colchester._) - -_Arthur H. Brown._] - -To this hymn innumerable tunes have been composed by musical people -of various degrees of ability; but it has always seemed to me that -by far the best are the two tunes given to it in the Wesleyan -hymn-book, and, curious to relate, the composers are both ministers, -the Rev. Olinthus R. Barnicott and the Rev. Sidney J. P. Dunman. -And it may safely be said that the singing by an average Wesleyan -congregation of this fine hymn, to either of these fine tunes, will -not be easily forgotten by the person who hears it for the first -time. - -The two other famous Easter hymns of Dr. Neale's composition were -really translations from the Greek. Nevertheless, they are grand -translations, if one may say so. "The Day of Resurrection"--best -recognised when sung to the tune composed by Berthold Tours, the -celebrated composer is a regular favourite at Easter-tide; but even -more famous is the other hymn from the Greek-- - - "Come, ye faithful, raise the strain - Of triumphant gladness." - -This hymn may safely be placed amongst the most popular of Easter -favourites, and, like so many others, whilst excellent in its -words, it owes not a little of its fame to its fine tune. This -latter was composed by Mr. Arthur Henry Brown, of Brentwood, and -was called "St. John Damascene," under which name it still figures -in the various Church hymn-books. Mr. Brown told me that the tune -was composed in less than a quarter of an hour! But he also told -me that even that was eclipsed by the tune "St. Anatolius"--does -any hymn-lover not know it?--to "The day is past and over," which -was composed in five minutes! Truly that was an "inspired" five -minutes, for which the Christian Church has reason to be thankful! - -To the late Bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Christopher Wordsworth--who that -knew the saintly old man did not love him?--the world is indebted -for the ever-popular - - "Alleluia! Alleluia! - Hearts to Heav'n and voices raise," - -which always goes with "a good swing" on Easter morn. Its tone is -"victory" from beginning to end, and there are few more beautiful -Easter verses than the first one of this hymn. - -Sir Arthur Sullivan composed its tune--the one best known, "Lux -Eoi"--and the very lilt of the music seems somehow to suggest the -work of the great musician who gave us similar "swinging" tunes for -"Onward, Christian soldiers" ("St. Gertrude") and for "The Jubilee -Hymn." But Sir Arthur tells me that "Lux Eoi" was not composed -especially for this hymn, but for another one less famous. The -rapidity of Sir Arthur's composition is only equalled by that of -Arthur H. Brown, already mentioned. The gifted composer of _The -Golden Legend_ thinks long before he puts pen to paper, and often -defers doing this "till the last minute," as we say; but when he -_does_ get started, he goes at it as few composers can, and will -polish off the introduction to an oratorio in a night! - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Elliott and Fry, Baker Street, W._) - -THE LATE BISHOP WORDSWORTH.] - -"When I survey the wondrous Cross," that splendid old hymn of that -splendid old divine, Dr. Isaac Watts, is probably one of our very -oldest hymns that is at all well known to-day. Everybody sings it, -for everybody knows both words and tune: Englishman, native African, -Brother Jonathan, converted Chinese, all sing alike from the heart, -after they have felt the real significance and power of that death -and resurrection-- - - "Love so amazing, so divine, - Demands my life, my soul, my all!" - -"Rockingham," the tune to which this hymn is eternally wedded, -was composed by Dr. Edward Miller. There is a magnificent roll -and stateliness about it which suits the words perfectly, and the -wonderful magnetic force which comes over one as one listens to six -thousand people--led by, say, Mr. Ira D. Sankey, singing "When I -survey the wondrous Cross"--was well described by the nameless slave -in America, who, hearing it thus sung by a crowd, and being reproved -for humming the tune as the people sang, said, "Massa, it no use; me -_must_ jine in!" - -[Illustration: (_Photo: J. C. SchaarwA¤chter, Berlin._) - -SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN.] - -A living hymn-writer of no small fame--the present Archbishop of -York--has given us one of the very finest of the hymns for this -season. Though not popular in the sense that Dr. Watts' celebrated -hymn is, yet there are few more charmingly beautiful lines, -suggestive of Good Friday and Easter thoughts, than are found in Dr. -Maclagan's hymn, "Lord, when Thy Kingdom comes, remember me!" - -This hymn is one of the best-known of the Archbishop's, though, of -course, his most famous one is the ever-beautiful "The Saints of -God, their conflict past." - -We cannot pass by without notice the Rev. John Ellerton's "Welcome, -happy morning," and the Rev. F. W. Faber's very sweetly sad "O come -and mourn with me awhile," which, of course, is a hymn for Good -Friday. The tune to this was written by the celebrated Durham man -to whom the Church of England (and all denominations) will ever -be in debt for some of the sweetest hymn-tunes the world has ever -known--Dr. J. B. Dykes. And it was fitting that he who composed the -beautiful tune to "Our blest Redeemer," for Whitsuntide, should then -give us another ever-famous tune to Faber's grand words. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: T. Heaviside, Durham._) - -THE LATE DR. J. B. DYKES.] - -Let me close this brief account of some of our finest Easter hymns -by just recalling one or two of our finest Easter anthems. Of -course, the first, _par excellence_, is the immortal "I know that my -Redeemer liveth"; and equally with it, from the same "oratorio of -oratorios," is the "Hallelujah" Chorus. Of these what shall be said? -Shall it be told again how Handel thought he was in heaven when he -wrote them? Or shall we note that the "Hallelujah" Chorus is one of -the three pieces of music in the world on hearing which every Briton -stands up and doffs his hat? These are the National Anthem, the -"Dead March" in _Saul_, and the "Hallelujah" Chorus. In the first he -pays his tribute to his earthly sovereign; in the second he pays his -last tribute to the venerated dead; in the third he acknowledges the -tribute due to his Almighty Lord, the Sovereign of Heaven. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Hills and Saunders, Oxford._) - -_John Stainer_] - -Apart from these two masterpieces of Handel, the prettiest and most -beautiful Easter anthem is that of Dr. Stainer, composed for the -cantata _The Raising of Jairus' Daughter_. In a wide experience of -cathedral music and anthem-singing by our best choirs, I doubt if -there is any much finer musical treat than to listen to the choir of -St. Paul's, or that of York Minster, as there rolls forth that most -beautiful of anthems, words and music--"Awake, thou that sleepest, -and arise from the dead, and God shall give thee light." This is, -indeed, a noble song for "Easter's bright morning," and well may its -words be taken as our special Easter thought; for to all of us, in -some way or other, they must have a special meaning. - - - - -[Illustration: SELF-HEALING.] - -By The Rev. Hugh Macmillan, D.D., L.L.D. - -"Physician, heal thyself."--ST. LUKE iv. 23. - - -We are accustomed to think that the healing virtue there -is in herbs and trees was meant only for man; that herbs and trees -were created with these virtues in them for the special purpose of -curing our human diseases and ministering to our human wants, and -for nothing else; that God had man in view in the beginning when He -gave these medicinal qualities to plants, and apart from man's use -of them they serve no other purpose. - -Now this, which is a common, widespread idea, is an altogether -erroneous one. For if God meant these vegetable qualities and -products exclusively for man's use, the questions may be pertinently -asked, Why were they so long undiscovered; and why do they occur in -places often remote from human habitation, and waste themselves upon -the desert air? - -It is true indeed that God designed them as remedies for man's -ailments, that He prepared beforehand the cures of human ills long -previous to the necessity for these cures arising. But this law of -mercy was a comprehensive one, and had a two-fold object in view. -God in the first place created the plant complete in itself, adapted -to its own circumstances and requirements; and in the second place, -it is through this perfect adaptability to its own wants that it -becomes generally useful in nature, and ministers to the necessities -of other created things. It is because the plant heals itself first -by the remedy which it grows and produces by its own powers that it -becomes a medicine to the animal world, when any members of that -world are placed in similar circumstances and exposed to a similar -disease. - -Why, for instance, does the Peruvian bark tree produce the bitter -principle in its bark from which we have prepared the valuable -medicine called quinine? Is it not because that bitter principle -is necessary to preserve the health of the tree itself in the wet, -malarial districts where it grows? The Peruvian bark tree grows its -own quinine, and administers it to itself, as it were, in order to -prevent a disease in itself caused by the marshy places where it -is found, similar to fever in the human subject. The willow grows -beside rivers and streams which are apt to cause exhalations and -breed influences that are noxious to the well-being of the tree. It -has therefore developed in its own bark a febrifuge called salicin, -which protects it from these noxious influences and maintains its -trunk and branches and foliage in vigorous health and beauty. And -it is because the quinine is good for the tree itself in malarial -places that it is good for the fever which human beings take in such -places; and it is because the salicin of the willow guards the tree -from the injurious exhalations of marshes and river banks that it -is a specific for rheumatism in man, which is produced by the same -causes. - -The same benefit which the medicinal principle developed by itself -works in its own constitution it confers upon man when subjected -to the same evil. And so it is with all the herbal medicines. They -have a purpose to serve in the economy of the plant that yields them -before they can minister to human sickness and disease. Sugar was -not meant in the first instance to sweeten man's cup, but to store -up food for the plant in order to enable it to flower. Tannin is -created in the bark of the oak tree, in the first instance, not for -the purpose of helping to make leather for man's shoes, but for -the purpose of preventing mildew and fungous growths from settling -on the bark of the tree and so decaying it. Scent is produced -in flowers and shrubs that grow in watery places, not for man's -gratification in the first instance, but in order to deodorise the -air and make it fit for these scented flowers and shrubs to breathe -and to preserve their vitality and vigour. Aromatic fragrance is -yielded by the grey shrubs and herbs of the dry desert, not that the -garments of the human passer-by might smell pleasantly of it, but -that it might regulate the temperature, and keep the plants cool in -the burning heat of the noonday and warm in the freezing cold of the -night air. - -Such instances might be multiplied indefinitely. Indeed, it may -be regarded as a rule of nature without exception that, whatever -properties plants possess that are useful to man, these properties, -in the first instance, are not only useful but indispensable to -themselves. And it is because they serve necessary uses in their own -economy that they are found so necessary in the economy of man. Each -plant that grows in circumstances where it is likely to be injured -by the soil or climate develops within itself the antidotes and -remedies against these unfavourable circumstances. It is a physician -that heals itself first of all, that adapts itself as perfectly as -possible to the peculiarities of its own place of growth. Nature -and it are harmonious: they help each other. The qualities that -are beneficial to itself are equally in the same way beneficial to -other creatures; and it helps the world because it has first helped -itself. It imparts health all around because it looks first after -its own health. - -All this is obvious. The plant could not exist at all did it not -develop those qualities which would minister to its welfare and -adjust it perfectly to its environment. But in human economy we -fancy somehow that the law is less strict and more irregular, and -can be violated at times with impunity. We think that a man can -perform the part of a physician, and cure others, although he cannot -cure a trouble that afflicts himself; that he can restore others -to health while he himself is unhealthy. We can separate between a -man's skill and his personality; and, indeed, there are many cases -where a physician who is dying slowly of some incurable disease -can yet, by his knowledge and cleverness, so treat his patients -that he may heal their diseases and restore them to health and -strength. But we are usually suspicious of a doctor endeavouring -to cure others when he himself labours under an uncured disease. -We reason naturally that his first concern should be himself; and -if he fails in doing good to himself by his skill and medicine, -when his interests are most of all concerned and the motive for -healing strongest, how can he hope to succeed in the case of others, -strangers and comparatively indifferent to him? We should not accept -with implicit confidence a so-called remedy for baldness forced -upon our notice by a person whose own head was in that condition. -We should expect him to operate upon himself in the first instance -with success, and then we should feel disposed to venture upon a -similar use of it. The proverb says that "He who drives fat cattle -must himself be fat"; and upon the principle involved in that common -saying he who would heal others must himself be a specimen of that -active, vigorous health to which he wishes to restore others. In no -work, indeed, is the personal equation of more consequence than in -the work of the physician. Three-fourths of the elements that enter -into all diseases are spiritual, and three-fourths of the remedies -that must be used for them must also be spiritual. The personal -appearance, character, and manner of the physician himself are most -important factors in the cure of disease. Confidence in the doctor -is more than half the cure; and therefore what the doctor is in -himself is of great consequence. - -In the spiritual sphere the physician can only heal others as he -heals himself. He himself must be an exemplification of the saving -health of God's countenance if he is to do good to others. It is -just as true in the affairs of the human soul as it is in the -case of the plant--that the quality which is beneficial to the -soul itself is equally beneficial to the world. It is noticeable, -however, that there are exceptions to the rule in the spiritual -world as there are exceptions in the natural human world. Just as -there are cases of physicians healing bodily diseases in others -while their own disease is unhealed, so there are cases where a man -is the means of saving others while he himself is unsaved. - -It is not, indeed, a matter of supposition, but of certainty, that -a man may do good while he is not good. Hundreds of instances could -be given, in which persons have been the means of quickening, -comforting, and building up souls in the Lord, while all the time -they themselves were strangers to the power of truth and ignorant -of the love of Christ in their hearts. Ministers have preached the -Gospel for years, and have been wise in bringing souls to Christ, -and yet have themselves been castaways in the end. Members of -churches have been zealous in every good work, and yet have known -nothing of godliness but the form. The very commonness of this -thing increases its sadness. We think the case of Moses leading -the Israelites to the border of the Promised Land while he himself -was forbidden to enter peculiarly pathetic; but its pathos is in -reality far less touching than the case of the man who brings others -to the fountain of life while he himself is perishing of thirst, who -is like a guide-post pointing the way of salvation to others while -unable himself to take a single step. - -But though instances have unquestionably occurred in which signal -beneficial results have followed the preaching of the Gospel by -ungodly men, this is not the normal order of the Divine procedure. -It is personal experience of religion as an inward life, as a living -power in the heart, that imparts unction to active Christian effort, -that adds conviction and power to testimony and commendation. He -is the man to do spiritual good to others who is able to say with -the Apostle, "That which we have heard, which we have seen with our -eyes, and our hands have handled, of the word of life, declare we -unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us." He is the man -to say to others, "O taste and see that the Lord is good," who has -himself tasted, and from his own enjoyment can say, "Blessed is the -man that trusteth in Him." - -It is an unchangeable law and constitution of our nature that we -cannot desire blessings for others which we do not really desire for -ourselves, the blessedness of which we have not known ourselves. -When we feel the value of our own souls, and not till then, we -shall feel the value of the souls of others. When we see the Lord -ourselves, and not till then, we shall desire that every child of -man shall see Him. - -It is on this account that our Lord says to Peter, "When thou art -converted, strengthen thy brethren." "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest -thou Me? Feed My sheep; feed My lambs." If we are saved ourselves, -we shall be best fitted to save and benefit others. There is a -virtue in true holiness, there is a secret charm in the wisdom that -cometh from above, which wins our hearts, and inclines us to embrace -a religion which yields such blessed fruits. The man who eminently -possesses and constantly exhibits these qualities becomes quick and -powerful in acting upon the minds of those around him. - -The best way, then, to do good is to be good, and to have such a -Christian character as will of itself communicate good. Be yourself -what you wish your family, your friends and neighbours, to be. -"Physician, heal thyself." God needs physicians, many physicians; -for there are many destroyers spreading the influence of their -ungodly life--a deadly infection--around, and adding to the disease -and misery which man's sin first brought upon the world. Let us act -as fellow-workers with the Good Physician in bringing back health -and strength and beauty to a plague-stricken world; and for this -purpose let us qualify ourselves more thoroughly. Let us apply the -Gospel remedies anew to our own case which we recommend to others, -that our own profiting and healing by these may be made manifest to -all. Let us ask God to search us and see if there be anything that -would prevent us from doing all the good that we might, any defect -of manner or disposition of heart that might cause the way of truth -so far as we are concerned to be evil spoken of; and let us ask the -help of the Divine Spirit to get it healed. So that thus being made -every whit whole ourselves, we may diffuse a healthy atmosphere -around us and make others partakers of our saving health. - -The Sabbath is the best day for healing. Jesus asked the Jews, "Is -it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day?" The reply might have been, -"Is it lawful to do anything else but heal on the Sabbath day?" -That day is set apart for healing the diseases of the world. It is -the day of recreation--re-creating us and fitting us anew by its -rest and refreshment of worship for the toil and travail of our -weekday life. Let us bring to Jesus on this Sabbath day all the old -infirmities and disabilities which have been a hindrance to the -growth of the work of grace in the midst of us, and He will deliver -us from them, and make us new creatures; and so--set free in newness -of health and strength, with our palsied frame invigorated, our -withered hand restored, our lame feet made swift in the way of God's -commandments, and our world-bound spirit loosed from its infirmity -and covetousness, and enabled to look upward where our true treasure -is--let us seek to free others from their infirmities and diseases, -and to make all around us strong in faith and health in the new life -of God's service. - -Let the tonic that has restored our own spiritual constitution be -in all our words and deeds and looks, to restore the spiritual -constitution of others. Let the perfume that neutralises the drought -and cold of the world be exhaled from all our character and conduct, -so that it may be the means of enabling all with whom we come in -contact to resist the aridity and the coldness of the world too. -Let each of us be so full of Christ's healing and saving power, so -saturated with His salvation, as it were, that we ourselves may be -Christ's best medicines. Let the words "Physician, heal thyself" be -in the very forefront of our profession and of our life throughout -all the years; and we ourselves in such a case will be among the -most potent influences for good in the world. - - - - -[Illustration: PLEDGED.] - -By Katharine Tynan, Author of "A Daughter of Erin," Etc. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -"GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART." - - -Beside the Wishing Well stood Anthony Trevithick, pale -and moody. His eyes were on the ground, and an old childish habit of -biting his nails when he was perplexed or in trouble had come back -to him. - -"I beg your pardon," said Lord Glengall at his elbow. "I have -returned for some things Miss Graydon left behind her." - -"These?" asked the young fellow, pointing with his foot to the -little heap of trinkets on the moss. But even in his anger he -blushed for the unhappiness of the position. - -Lord Glengall stooped and picked up the things, and stuffed them -into one of the pockets of his rough coat. He turned as if to go -away. Then he hesitated an instant and came back. - -"There is no reason why we should be enemies," he said, advancing a -step nearer. - -"No?" replied Anthony Trevithick, lifting his moody eyes. "That -depends." - -"On what, sir?" - -"On--a great many things," stammered the young man. - -"You mean on whether I am prepared to stand aside and to sacrifice -everything that you may have your will. I know the state of affairs, -you see." - -"I meant to seek you out and tell you, Lord Glengall. I ought to -say, perhaps, that Miss Graydon is without reproach in this matter." - -"Neither of us is likely to wrong her in our thoughts, I hope," said -Lord Glengall. "The question is, whether _you_ are without reproach." - -"By what right----" began the younger man. - -"Hush!" said the other, with a dignity that was more compelling than -his words. "We are speaking as man to man. Miss Graydon has told -me something of how affairs lay between you and her, but not all. -Why did you leave her in the first instance in the position of a -half-engaged girl?" - -"Are you her ambassador?" - -"She is dearer to me, I dare swear, than she is to you, though you -will not believe it. There is no use in beating about the bush. If I -think you can make her happier than I can, I am prepared to give her -back her promise." - -"Lord Glengall!" - -A gesture silenced the words on his lips. - -"Don't say anything, please. If I do it, I do it for her. And I -shall only give her up to you if I am sure you are worthy." - -"I don't say I am worthy, but I have a fairly clean record. As for -that matter, I will explain. I was unwise, but I was not altogether -to blame. My mother has a greatly loved young cousin. She has been -in the house with us since her mother died some years ago. It was a -scheme of my mother's that we should marry, though it was not openly -expressed. I did not oppose it. I had no idea what love meant till I -saw Pamela; but I had fetched and carried for Lady Kitty. Probably -a great number of people thought we were engaged; and it seemed to -me that I ought to set the matter straight before I was formally -engaged to Pamela." - -"It would have been better to have let Pamela alone till you were -quite free." - -"Yes, I know, but----" - -"There; you are young. You can't be expected to be as deliberate as -an older man. You meant to act straight by her?" - -"I meant to come back in a week a free man. When I was called away -to my uncle's sick bed, my mother made me promise not to speak, not -to try to clear up things with Lady Kitty, till I returned. I did -write to Mr. Graydon, but the letter never reached him." He blushed -hotly and paused. - -"Yes, I know," interrupted Lord Glengall. "When you came back?" - -"When I came back, I found--Pamela engaged to you, and my cousin -engaged to a great friend of mine. As it proved, she had never -thought of me in that way; but her affection for my mother prevented -her from speaking out." - -"You should have written again to Mr. Graydon. You made Pamela -unhappy." - -"I thought he had not written because I said I would come as soon as -I could. Then I was kept week after week, till the time turned into -months. I am deeply sorry that I caused her unhappiness." - -"This is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" - -"It is absolutely the truth, and nothing else." - -"Very well, Sir Anthony, I believe you. If you had not been -straight, I should have held her to the letter of her bond against -you and the world, even against herself. Now--in her heart she has -chosen you, and you are a fitter mate for her than I--I resign her -to you." - -"Lord Glengall!" - -"I do not ask your thanks, sir. Make her happy--that is all. For the -rest, I have one word of advice for you." - -"Whatever it is, I shall act upon it." - -"Go back to-night to England." - -"Without a word to Pamela?" - -"Let her be. I will say what is necessary. You will have to win her -again, young sir. She is not the girl to change her lovers like her -frocks." - -"Perhaps you are right, sir," with hesitation. - -"Go," said Lord Glengall, waving him away, "go! If you speak to her -in her present mood, you will be sorry. Let her be free of both of -us for a while." - -"You, too, will leave her?" - -"I shall leave her till all this is forgotten. It will be nothing -new for me to set out for the ends of the earth at an hour's notice." - -"You are, as Pamela says, the best man living." - -"Stop!" said Lord Glengall, with a gesture as if he could not endure -the praise. "Good-bye!" - -"Good-bye," repeated Sir Anthony, turning away. - -Several times as he went homeward Lord Glengall stooped to pat the -shaggy coat of the terrier who still trotted by him. - -[Illustration: Pointing with his foot to the little heap of -trinkets.] - -"You don't know poetry, old fellow," he said once aloud, "but there -was a poet named Shakespeare who wrote something about people coming -back 'to push us from our stools.' I am not good at remembering -poetry; but that young gentleman we have just left has come back to -push us from our stools--to push us from our stools." - -The dog, as if he understood, thrust a sympathetic nose into his -companion's hand. - -When Lord Glengall reached Carrickmoyle, he went straight to Mr. -Graydon's room. Mary was sitting by her father, stitching a piece of -fine white stuff in the twilight. - -"Ah! Glengall," said the invalid briskly. "Have you come in to smoke -a last pipe with me? Come and tell me what prices were like at the -fair to-day. Run away, Molly child, and rest your eyes, and let -Glengall have your seat." - -The two men lit up soberly, and smoked away for a while, discussing -prices and cattle and crops in a desultory fashion. - -At last Lord Glengall knocked out the ashes from his stumpy clay -against the top bar of the grate, and stuffed the pipe into his -pocket. - -"I wanted to talk to you about Pam, Graydon," he said. - -"What about Pam?" - -"Only that I did the child an injustice in wanting to marry her. I -am too old." - -"Does Pam say this? Are you speaking for her?" - -"Poor little Pam! There were some love-passages, Graydon, between -her and your pupil Trevithick." - -"I guessed as much, but how far the thing went I have no idea. I -don't believe in probing into those things, Glengall. It is better -to let them die." - -"Had you any idea that the young fellow might possibly ask for her?" - -"I hoped so once, not because it would be a good marriage for Pam, -or anything of that sort, but because I thought him a good lad, and -I believed in his father's son. I was disappointed that he turned -out so different from my expectations." - -"Would you be surprised to hear that he wrote to you about Pam -immediately after he left, and that his mother intercepted the -letter?" - -"His mother!" - -"Yes; she had other views for him." - -"I wonder why she came here, why she troubled our peace, and forced -her hospitality on Pam, who didn't want it?" said Mr. Graydon -musingly. - -"To make a parting between the lad and Pam more certain. She told -Pam he was engaged to his cousin; and in other ways made the child's -visit miserable." - -"My poor Pam! I remember she hated to go." - -"I am sorry the boy has such a mother." - -"Yet I remember her a very noble-looking girl. I don't think she -was made for mean things." - -"Ah! well, we can let her be. She is sufficiently punished, poor -woman, by her son's scorn. That must be a terrible thing to endure." - -"And she is a proud woman." - -"However, Graydon, we are not concerned with her. The state of the -case is this: The young people were in love with each other, and -were parted by a fraud. Under a total misapprehension, Pamela has -engaged herself to me. Now that the misapprehension is removed, what -is the clear course for me to take?" - -"I should ask Pamela, Glengall." - -"Pamela is at this moment in a mood in which it would not be safe to -take her at her word. The only thing for me to do is to step down -and out." - -"Glengall!" said Mr. Graydon, laying a hand on his. - -"Don't pity me just now, Graydon. Frankly, I'm not equal to it." - -"Have you told Pam?" - -"I shall tell her. Afterwards I shall go away till the nine days' -wonder is forgotten." - -"Glengall, I wish this had not happened." - -"There is one way in which you can atone to me for its bitterness--I -don't mind confessing to you that it is bitter." - -"And that way?" - -"You must borrow from me what will take you abroad. You must; it is -for their sakes." - -"Very well; if there is no other way. I shall repay you, I hope." - -"You have plenty of time before you to grow rich in. When you come -back next spring, you must finish your _magnum opus_." - -Mr. Graydon rubbed his hands in boyish cheerfulness. - -"I shall feel equal to tackling it after a change. I'm afraid I've -been vegetating, and the mosses and mildew have grown upon me. You -have lived, Glengall, while I was growing into a worthless old -block." - -"It is you who have lived," said Lord Glengall. "You have lived -naturally. When I die, it is the end of my line, and I shall have no -one to close my eyes." - -When he found Pam in the drawing-room alone, a little later, he drew -her to him, and kissed her hair where it clustered over the white -forehead. - -"I have brought your pretty things, Pam," he said, fumbling in his -pocket. - -"And you have forgiven me?" - -"I have forgiven you, dear." - -He fastened the little chain about her neck and the bracelet on her -wrist. - -"You will wear them for me, Pam?" he said. "I should not know what -to do with them." - -"And my ring?" said Pam, wondering. - -"I have taken back the ring. You are free, Pam; free as air." - -[Illustration: "You are free, Pam; free as air."] - -"But I don't want to be free." - -"You did yesterday, Pam, and you will to-morrow. I have seen Sir -Anthony, Pam. He is guiltless, and will come again." - -"I do not want him to come," cried Pam with a great sob. - -"I sent him away because I was afraid if he came to you now you -would make him and yourself unhappy. He hated to go, but he went. He -will come again. You will be good to him, Pam, because you love him. -Now, good-bye, my dear. I shall come back when you are married." - -Pamela's hands were over her eyes, and she was crying quietly. - -"Another thing, Pam," he said. "I have arranged with your father. He -is to winter abroad." - -"Sylvia will see to that," she answered. "Miss Spencer has made it -easy for her. At least, we need not take that from you." - -"You have given me great happiness," he repeated. "And now, -good-bye, my dear, good-bye." - -A day or two later Carrickmoyle was startled by the news that Lord -Glengall had sailed for Australia. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -"THOUGH 'TWERE TEN THOUSAND MILE." - - -"I wish something would happen," said Sylvia; "it is the longest -summer I have ever known." - -Sylvia was wearing black for Miss Spencer, who had passed away -peacefully a few weeks after that talk with Pamela. When the -legal formalities were completed, Sylvia would be _chActelaine_ of -Dovercourt; but her interest in her inheritance seemed very slight. - -"By-and-by," she had said, "I shall be glad to know that I have -money to do things with; but just at present I can only remember -what it is that has made me rich." - -[Illustration: "I thought you were going to marry him, Bridget."] - -"Why not have Mr. Baker or Mr. St. Quintin to tea quietly?" -suggested Pam. "I am sure they are longing to come, and they would -cheer you up." - -But Sylvia would not. She preferred to wander from the house to the -garden with the dogs at her heels, or to stray from one room to -another, having a desultory chat with her father, who was now up and -about, or with Mary, cheerfully sewing her bridal clothes, usually -ending up with a visit to Bridget in the kitchen. - -Bridget quite agreed with Sylvia about the dulness of the house, and -suggested the same remedy for it as Pamela had done. - -"Have a bit of company, child," she said. "Sure, her that's gone -(the heavens be her bed!) 'ud be the last to grudge the young what's -natural to the young, let alone that I hear young Mr. St. Quintin's -that mopy that they say 'tis to horse-racin' he's took, wid the -design of breakin' his neck by way of divarsion." - -"Don't talk such nonsense, Bridget," said Sylvia languidly. "The -horse is not born that could unseat Mr. St. Quintin. He can stick -on like grim death. But I don't feel that company, such company as -I could get, would be any good to me. I don't like young people, -Bridget." - -"Well, sorra such a house I ever was in," said Bridget, scandalised. - -"Never mind, Bridget dear," said Sylvia, who had temporarily lost -her taste for sharp argument with Bridget. "I suppose I was born -old." - -"Listen to her," cried Bridget, "an' she wid the lightest feet, aye, -an' the purtiest face in the barony! Between you and Miss Pamela, -me heart's fairly bruk. There's Miss Pamela, that ought to be goin' -to be married a week from next Tuesday, goin' round as mopy as a -chicken wid the pip. I never seen such goin's on anywhere I was." - -"It certainly _is_ time," said Sylvia again, "that something should -happen, and, short of marrying myself, Bridget, I'll do anything to -bring it about." - -"Indeed, then Mr. St. Quintin's a pleasant young gentleman," said -Bridget, broadly smiling, "though an imp of mischief. 'Tis meself'll -not forget in a hurry how he whipped the steps from undher Grady -whin he was pickin' the morello cherries, an' never purtended he -heard him bawlin' melia murther, an' the ould rogue, as he was -contrivin' to slip down by the trunk, caught by a twig in his -breeches an' held there! As I said to Mr. St. Quintin, I hoped he -thought then on poor Mary that's gone, that often he made suffer, -the crathur!" - -"I thought you were going to marry him, Bridget," said Sylvia, with -the same languid interest. - -"Och, then, heaven forgive you, Miss Sylvia. Sure them was only my -jokes. Not but what he axed me. 'The mischief bother you, man,' says -I. 'Is it havin' me commit murther you'd be? Why, sure I couldn't -keep me hands off you if I was lookin' at you every day, an' then -I'd be tried an' hung for it, maybe.'" - -"Well, I'm glad you're not going to marry him under the -circumstances," said Sylvia. "But, all the same, it is time some of -us made a stir." - -And even then one thing that was to disturb the current of their -lives was on its way. - -The very morning after Sylvia's conversation with Bridget there was -a large square envelope for Mr. Graydon, which somewhat exercised -his youngest daughter's imagination. - -"Come here, dad," she said, when at last he arrived at the -breakfast-table. "I've been longing for something to happen, and I -believe this is really a happening at last." - -"It is my uncle's writing," said Mr. Graydon, as he took the letter -and opened it. As he read it his face grew graver and graver. - -"Poor old Uncle Charles!" he said, when he had finished. "His boy is -dead." - -Lord Downshire's letter was very characteristic:-- - -"MY DEAR ARCHIE,--I will not say you have scored again, but at -least I have failed with the last card I held against you. My boy -is dead. I don't ask for your sympathy or your pity. You, with your -healthy girls, cannot appreciate what I suffer. I am racked in the -spirit and the body, and I shall be very glad to leave a world that -has lost savour for me. I heard indirectly that you were ill after -you had been here; but, you see, _you_ have recovered, and it is -my boy that is dead. You are my heir now, and I am too sick of it -all to make another attempt to frustrate you. And there is no use -continuing in enmity against you, so I shall make you an allowance -proportionate to the condition of my heir. I shall not ask to see -you, but Messrs. Lees and Saunders, of Lincoln's Inn--you will -remember Saunders; Lees died last year--have my instructions." - -Mr. Graydon put the letter into his pocket when he had read it. - -"Something has happened, Sylvia," he said sorrowfully. "I am Lord -Downshire's heir once more; and yet I would a thousand times rather -be as I was, and the old man's little son living." - -But the happenings of the day were not over. - -Sylvia, going her pilgrimage to Miss Spencer's new grave, was -aware of a tall young figure, which had something familiar about -it, swinging along towards her. Presently she recognised Anthony -Trevithick. - -"Miss Sylvia," he said, "I am so glad I met with you. I want to see -Pamela." - -"Pamela!" with oddly upraised eyebrows. - -"Yes--Pamela. I have stayed away as long as I could. I promised Lord -Glengall I would give her time." - -"Oh! that is how it is, is it?" - -"Yes; didn't you know?" - -"I guessed, of course, but Pam is not the old Pam. She has been as -solemn as an owl, and as secretive, ever since.... When was it?... I -really think it began about the time of your going away. She used to -be the best of good company." - -"What is this for, Miss Sylvia?" said the young man, touching her -black frock. - -"Ah! You do not know. Miss Spencer died a month ago." - -"I am sorry," he said, with a sympathy which at once made Sylvia his -friend. - -"Does Pam know you are coming?" she asked. - -"No. I was afraid to announce myself. Perhaps she will show me the -door." - -"Perhaps she won't, Sir Anthony. She's fond of you, you see." - -"Oh, Miss Sylvia!" cried Anthony Trevithick, flushing delightedly -through his tan. - -"Oh, yes! she's fond of you. I'm not going to talk about her -secrets, but I know how it is. I knew all along. That is why I was -so vexed with her--when---- Never mind. You want to see Pamela, -then? Well, just wait for me a minute outside this gate. I will come -back with you then, and find Pamela for you." - -"You are awfully good." - -"Perhaps I'm glad to get rid of Pam. She's prettier than I am, -though some people don't think so. Perhaps I'm afraid of her -stealing my admirers." - -"I believe it is only your goodness to me." - -"And to Pam. She's not the same Pam she was a year ago. If you make -her like her old self, I shall forgive you even that you left us -forlorn and unsquired at that famous festivity for which you should -have returned." - -"Oh! Miss Sylvia, I shan't believe that." - -She did not try Anthony Trevithick's patience by keeping him waiting -long at the churchyard gate. She was gone only a minute or two -before she returned, her basket empty of its flowers, and her face, -which had gained so much in character and sweetness during the -year, a little overshadowed. - -When they reached Carrickmoyle, she brought Anthony Trevithick -through the sunny hall where the door stood, as ever, hospitably -open, and into the big drawing-room. "Stay here till I find Pam," -she said. She went upstairs two steps at a time in the boyish way he -remembered. He listened with a smile on his face till the sound of -the footsteps died away. Then he began to walk up and down nervously. - -Pam sat in the window of her own little room with her chin in her -hands, gazing over the summer-dark landscape, her air listless, and -her eyes apathetic. - -"It is lonely, Sylvia," she said, scarcely turning her head as her -sister entered. - -"You never used to find it so," said Sylvia. "I remember the time -when Carrickmoyle held all the delights for you." - -"That was when we were little girls in short frocks, and led poor -Mick into scrapes." - -"Many a year ago," said Sylvia. "When you struck Anthony Trevithick -with the sun-bonnet that was intended for the red cock----" - -Pamela's heightened colour assured Sylvia of what she wanted to know. - -"Pam," she said, "why don't you make it straight with Anthony -Trevithick?" - -"How do you know there is anything to make straight?" - -"Rubbish!" said Sylvia, with quiet scorn. - -"Oh, Sylvia!" said Pamela, "you don't understand. I am tired of love -and lovers. I only want to be let alone. I have suffered too much." - -"If you have, it's your own fault. You'd no business to take poor -dear Glengall when you were in love with someone else, though how -you could look at others in the same day with Glengall fairly -bothers me. And now, why don't you write and ask Anthony Trevithick -to come back?" - -"I don't want him to come back." - -"Yes, you do; you're crying your eyes out for him every night. -Yes, you are. And why you let all this muddle go on without doing -anything to prevent it I don't know. I could shake you, Pam!" - -"What would you have done, Sylvia?" - -"Well, supposing I was in love with a man and knew him to be in love -with me, and supposing he went away and didn't write, I'd never -think anything except that the letter was lost. If I could get at -him, I'd write and ask him what it meant. If I couldn't, I'd go on -believing in him, maybe till I was old and grey, and till I died, as -some have done--if I really loved him, mind you." - -"Perhaps you are right, Sylvia." - -"There's no doubt about it, Madam Faint-Heart." - -"But come," she said, after a benevolent scrutiny of Pamela; "come, -you look very nice, unless you'd like to put on the pink sun-bonnet. -Anthony Trevithick is in the drawing-room." - -"Sylvia!" - -"Yes, I know I ought to have mentioned it before, instead of talking -nonsense. The poor young man's on tenter-hooks." - -"Sylvia! I _can't_ go down." - -"Yes, you can. You shall, even if I have to use force." - -"Very well, Sylvia," said Pam, rising and trembling a little. - -"Come, don't think about it. Do it quickly, as we used to take our -cod-liver oil long ago. Let us run down the stairs. There, you poor -little thing! your hands are cold. The run will warm them." - -And, half-resisting, Pamela was pulled by force down the stairs. - -Nevertheless, she entered the room with her head high. - -"How do you do, Sir Anthony?" she began. - -"Ah, Pam darling!" cried the young man, coming to meet her. "Don't -give me any more cold words or cold looks. I haven't deserved them, -and if you've nothing else for me I shall go away for ever." - -"No, surely," said Pam, and her sweet voice had a little surprise in -it. "You didn't really deserve any blame at all." - -"But you did, for I asked you to trust me, Pam. I asked you to trust -me, and your faith was brittle." - -"So it was," said Pam. - -"Well," said Sylvia, as she went out and closed the door. "It is -plain these recriminations are not meant for me. Heigho! I wish Mr. -Baker would come along just now, that I might have the satisfaction -of refusing him. It is easy to see that Glengall is as completely -forgotten as if he had never existed." - -No one could say that Mr. Graydon's youngest daughter was not loyal -to the absent. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -A PROPOSAL. - - -Pamela Graydon had been Pamela Trevithick for three years, when one -day in late summer Sylvia, still Sylvia Graydon, was entertaining a -visitor in her London drawing-room. - -It was Lord Glengall, a shade greyer, a shade leaner, but looking -well nevertheless, and brown with southern suns. - -"And so," he said, "we shall travel back to Ireland together." - -"It will be a delightful and unexpected pleasure to have your -company." - -"You are glad to return, Sylvia?" - -"Glad! It is no word for it. I am hungry for the velvety wind that -blows across the mountains. I am so tired of these glaring streets, -of parties, and dinners and luncheons, and functions of all kinds." - -Lord Glengall laughed. - -"To tell you the truth, I am amazed and amused to find your father -in the midst of it all." - -[Illustration: Half-resisting, Pamela was pulled by force.] - -"Papa! Oh, papa is the veriest Piccadilly lounger. He has returned -to it all as freshly as if he had never left it. He discovered -troops of old friends--without a misgiving--as soon as ever he came -in for the title." - -"He doesn't pine for Carrickmoyle?" - -"Now and again. When the desire becomes very strong, he and I slip -away to Euston some evening, forgetting all our engagements, and, -for a few days, our new circumstances, at Carrickmoyle, where -Bridget cooks our chops and makes us potato-cakes just as of old." - -"I am glad to hear Bridget is still to the fore." - -"She is not a day older." - -"She never carried out her threat of marrying my gardener?" - -"Mr. Grady is still a widdy-man, as they used to say in the dear -country." - -"But to return to your father. The _magnum opus_ has become an -accomplished fact. You see, I haven't been so far out of the world -as not to have heard that." - -"Yes. It has been a great success. He is as much in request at -learned societies and conversaziones as he is in fashionable -drawing-rooms. To think of the years he vegetated at Carrickmoyle!" - -"Happy years, Sylvia." - -"I could hardly hope for happier." - -"He will be in soon, Sylvia?" - -"About half-past five," consulting a little watch fastened to her -gown. "You can endure my company till then." - -"I shall try to. But am I not keeping you from afternoon calls or -something? I saw a carriage at the door as I came in." - -"I have sent it away. I was rejoiced to do it. Papa will be simply -wild with delight at your falling from the clouds like this." - -"He hasn't forgotten me, then?" - -"How should he? The only drawback about Carrickmoyle has been that -we could see from it the cold chimneys of Glengall." - -"Ah! we shall warm them," said Lord Glengall, beaming at her. "We -shall have fine jinks if only you and your father will spend six -months of the year at Carrickmoyle. I am no Londoner, and never -shall be. But I shall be able to endure six months of solitude if I -know I am going to have you for the remainder of the year." - -"You will not long be left solitary. You cheated the country the -last time by disappearing again before it had had time to rejoice -over you. Your return will flutter the dovecotes for thirty miles -around." - -"You are very kind, Sylvia," said Lord Glengall simply. "But you -have not told me half the news," he went on. "How is Molly?" - -"Flourishing. Mick has got his company. He wouldn't leave the -service on any consideration, and I think he was right. They are as -much in love with each other as ever; and they have a beautiful boy." - -"Ah! that is right. Molly deserved to be happy." - -"She did, and so did Mick. Mick is a dear old fellow." - -"And Pam, Sylvia?" - -There was no consciousness in his voice. - -"Pam, too, is a success. She has been a beauty for three seasons, -strange to say." - -"And it is a happy marriage?" - -"Perfectly happy. They are ideally well suited." - -"I am glad of that. How does Pam get on with her mother-in-law?" - -"Fairly well, I believe. Lady Jane keeps herself to herself, which -is lucky for Pam. I never took to that lady. But she is devoted -to the heir. She wouldn't strike you, somehow, as a grandmotherly -person, but it is so." - -"There is an heir?" - -"Yes; he is two years old, and he has a baby sister of seven months." - -"Ah! how you young people have been making history since I left. I -shall not know this new world of your making." - -"You find me changed?" - -"Lovelier, Sylvia." - -"It is nice to have you say that." - -"Still greedy for conquest, even though it is only an old fogey?" - -"Ah!"--with more intensity than he thought the occasion -demanded--"you never can be that!" - -"You are always kind, little girl. When I look into your eyes, I -fancy it is the old Sylvia I am talking to, and not a fine lady." - -"It is the old Sylvia." - -"The Sylvia I knew would never have worn this"--touching a fold of -her dress. - -"She would, if she could. It is only a Paris tea-gown. She was -happier in the prints at sixpence a yard from Guirk's shop in -Lettergort." - -"Happier, Sylvia? What have you been doing with yourself since?" - -"Growing old and faded with trying to occupy several houses at once -and doing a great many things I detest." - -She laughed at him from where she sat in her youth and beauty, and -he laughed in answer. - -"Where are the lads who used to be in love with you?" - -"All married, except Algy St. Quintin; but he has long given up -asking me. We are good comrades." - -"No more than that, Sylvia?" - -"No more than that. I wouldn't lose sight of him for anything. He -is just the same imp of mischief, as Bridget used to call him. His -coolness is phenomenal, and his impudence so deliciously incongruous -with his cherubic boy's face." - -"There is no one else, Sylvia?" - -"There is no one else." - -"Ah! you are so hard-hearted, child. Or is it that you will stay -with your father?" - -"Not altogether that. I've seen no one here I would marry." - -"Yet you have met all sorts and conditions of men." - -"All sorts and conditions, but not the right one." - -"The right one will come." - -"He might come--he may have come, and not have found me the right -woman." - -She looked at him an instant; then she suddenly blushed hotly, and -her eyes fell and rested on the jewelled fingers in her lap. So full -was her attitude of yielding and submission that it might well make -the heart of a lover leap. - -A sudden, bewildering idea came to the man before her. For an -instant he was dazed with the shock of it. Then he stood up and -paced the room in great agitation. - -"Sylvia," he said at last, pausing before her where she still sat, a -lovely image of submission, "Pamela was right when she did not marry -me." - -"She was right because she did not love you." - -"How could she love me? I might have been her father." - -"That is no reason. Love does not take count of such things." - -"Ah, Sylvia! What has love to do with grey hairs?" - -"If there is love, they are better than gold." - -"Sylvia, do you know what madness you are putting into my head?" - -"I cannot know unless you tell me." - -Sylvia's eyes were raised to his with a flash of the old audacity. - -"Perhaps I dare not tell you." - -"Ah, do!" - -"If I were a young man and you would do it, you might turn this -work-a-day earth to Paradise for me." - -"And why not now?" - -[Illustration: He made a step towards her.--_p. 552._] - -"Ah! child, you do not know what you are saying. What could you, a -beauty and an heiress, see in me?" - -"I am glad I am beautiful to you. But why should that and the other -things stand between me and my happiness?" - -"Your happiness, Sylvia?" - -"Ah, yes! You wouldn't see it, but I always thought there was no -one in the world like you. You chose Pam before me, and even then I -accepted your will, but I loved you still." - -"I chose Pam because she was unhappy, because there seemed no other -way. It did not break my heart to give her up, though it was a blow. -It does not hurt me now to hear of her as Lady Trevithick. But I -dare not risk the same thing with you." - -"Why?" - -"Because it would be so easy to forget my years, and love you with a -young man's ardour, and more than a young man's faith." - -"Then why not love me?" - -"Ah! Sylvia, it is your kindness, your compassion. I could not -endure to be thrown over now, even though I am well on in my -forties." - -"I shall not throw you over. Look at me, and you will see." - -He looked at her, and made a step towards her. - -"Then you will make the world over again for me?" - -"And you for me?" - -"Ah, Sylvia!" - -"Yes. How hard it was to persuade you. There will be lots of people -who will want to marry you once it is known you have come back. You -might have liked someone better than me. And I have waited for three -years." - -"You fairy princess, what do you mean by condescending to a mortal's -grey hairs?" - -"We shall be so happy, you and I and papa. We shall lead the country -life, though he'll have to come to London now and again for his -serious 'frivolities.' And I shall make you care for me. Now you do -not care for me nearly so much as I do for you." - -"You bewilder me, Sylvia." - -"Ah! yes, you will care for me. I shall not let you cheat me." - -"You talk as if my youth were not flown, you lovely child." - -"It is not flown. You do not mean to say you used up your youth -during those hard years that lined your face and sowed grey hairs in -your head? Ah! no, you were saving it up for me." - -"It is _too_ incredible!" - -"Take time, then, to think, good gentleman," said Sylvia, with -laughter dancing bewitchingly about her mouth; but her eyes were -tender. - -"If I take time, all this will take wings like a dream and fly away." - -"Then keep it," said Sylvia. - -"My life--what remains of it--will be devoted to you." - -"It is time you should say that. You have been going after false -fires, while I have been true all the time." - -"You to me, Sylvia!" - -"I to you. But if I had not almost asked you, you would have left me -to single blessedness. Ah! there is papa's ring. He will be glad." - -"He will think it folly, Sylvia." - -"Ah! no, he won't. Dear, wise papa, he was always anxious for you to -marry one of his daughters." - -[Illustration: THE END] - - - - -TIRED. - - - On the weary waves of the world - To and fro - This tired life of mine has been whirled! - In the flow - And ebb of every dangerous tide - My thoughts have drifted far and wide, - As on a bleak and bare hill-side - Drifts the snow. - - I sought for rest afar, afar, - But found it not; - I dreamed sweet dreams, if such things are - Sweet which we wot - Are false. I woke again to know - The weight of an unceasing woe, - And journeyed onward, bending low - To a hard lot. - - At length to my weary soul I said, - "Soul of mite, - The empty restless life thou hast led, - In shade and shine, - In winter's cold and angry beat, - In summer's languid parching heat-- - Poor soul!" I said, "It is not meet - Such fate be thine. - - "There is a rest, oh! my tired soul, - Far away, - We soon may reach that happy goal - Beyond to-day. - Far, far beyond those darkening skies - There is a Land which Rest supplies-- - Peace, endless peace, that never dies. - Come away!" - - H. BROOKE DAVIES. - - - - -LIGHT THROUGH DULL PANES. - -_A VISIT TO THE EARLSWOOD ASYLUM._ - -(_Illustrated from Photographs by Cassell and Co., Ltd._) - - [_This is the first of a special series of illustrated articles - on representative philanthropic institutions. Each article will - describe the scope and work of the institution concerned, and - will in addition contain detailed information as to the methods - of admission, with special reference to the "voting" system._] - - -The young Queen Victoria had been ten years on the -throne of England. In this decade the wheel of philanthropy seemed -to turn with increased impetus. It had been set in motion before -the dawn of the nineteenth century, for then asylums for the -blind, the deaf and dumb, and lunatic had been established. Now -various institutions and schemes of benevolence were springing into -existence in aid of other classes of sufferers. There was still -something wanting, a lady maintained to Dr. Andrew Reed--a powerful -friend of the afflicted and needy; she asked him to help the -feeble-minded. He demurred; he doubted whether there were sufficient -cases to call for a special institute. If she could find six in six -days, he promised to take up the matter. Six days produced twenty -eligible from their poverty and infirmity, and the well-known -philanthropist kept his word. The National Asylum for Idiots -was inaugurated at the Mansion House in October, 1847, and was -established at Highgate in January, 1848. Since then it has received -upwards of 3,000 cases, and the institution now at Earlswood has -served as a model for others in different parts of Europe and our -colonies. - -[Illustration: IN THE PRINTING OFFICE AT EARLSWOOD.] - -The need of such asylums encircles the world; for wherever humanity -has spread children may be born with inherent infirmity, or the -"heart ache and a thousand natural shocks which flesh is heir to" -may cloud the brightest intelligence. The poor and sick in mind -must ever appeal for help to the rich and strong and capable. -The mysterious "something wanting" in intellect is a grievous -calamity, even when good friends and wealth can procure all -possible compensations. In a family where the necessities of life -depend on the power to work, it reduces existence to a miserable -burden. It was especially for the poor that the National Asylum was -established. The pleasant building standing on the breezy uplands -above Redhill can accommodate nearly 700 patients; and twice a -year, on the last Thursday in the months of April and October, -needy cases, from five years old and upwards, are elected on the -foundation by the votes of subscribers. There are generally from 130 -to 150 applicants, though funds only allow the admission of about -one-fifth of the number. Presentations for life may be secured, but -it is a happiness to know that the term of five years, which is the -rule in election, is sometimes sufficient to teach a boy a trade, -or a girl to make herself useful in housework, needlework, or a -laundry. Patients entered for five years may be re-elected. Lately -one of them wrote to his friends, "It will be soon time to get me in -again for another five years. I hope that it will be all right; I -like Earlswood." - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE DINING HALL.] - -Why should a boy able to write and to take thought for his own -affairs be in an asylum for imbeciles? A visit to Earlswood would be -the most effectual answer to the question. It is hard to know where -idiocy begins and ends. There are skilled workmen in the printers', -tailors', carpenters', and other departments, who, to a casual -observer, betray nothing wanting. - -Many of their exhibits, as well as specimens of the girls' and -women's needlework, were sold at the Arts and Crafts Exhibition at -Lancaster in 1897, where a section was open to institutions for -imbeciles, and seventeen prizes were awarded to Earlswood. But there -are other patients whose limited intelligence renders them oblivious -of their own infirmity or their own names; between the two extremes -there is every degree of feebleness of mind. Those who consciously -suffer least are likely to call out the greatest compassion. It is -natural to turn away and try to forget the sight of a human creature -going on all-fours, or of great helpless babies, without the charm -or sweetness of infancy, sitting up with bibs on, waiting for the -meal for which they cannot ask. - -[Illustration: IN HIS OWN WORKSHOP.] - -"It must be sad and painful to a visitor," the matron said, "to have -a passing glance at the worst cases, but to live amongst them, as -she had done for eleven years, was full of interest. Nearly all were -capable of some improvement." - -A home where everything is done to promote their health and -happiness is, for the weak-minded, a new world. To be taken from -conditions of continual disadvantage, and placed under the charge of -guardians whose first duty is to work and watch for the awakening -of soul and mind, brings hope and comfort into their life. A poor -constitution is often added to the disadvantages of the imbecile; -and in families where their friends cannot constantly protect them -they are often exposed to teasing, and driven into fits of fury, -ending in chronic bad temper, by the mischief or malice of their -companions. - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE ASYLUM.] - -"No one is allowed to tease them here," a nurse remarked, in -speaking of the patients' affection and their general disposition -to get on well together. They are classified, so that they -meet companions on equal terms. The lowest have not the spirit -or independence to defy lawful authority; to the highest but -refractory, degradation to a class below is the most salutary -punishment that can be inflicted. They soon try by their conduct to -rise to their former level. Anyone in charge giving a patient a blow -would be liable to criminal prosecution. The vicious or dangerous -cases are not admitted, and the authorities do not encourage the -re-election of those who give absolutely no promise of improvement. -The vacancies ought to be filled by candidates to whom care and -treatment will be of use. In the great busy world outside Earlswood -are muscular limbs dwindling or growing stiff for want of exercise, -and hands framed for skill which are only filled with mischief by -the active spirit against whom Dr. Watts left an immortal warning. -They need not remain idle, for special training can supply much that -Nature has denied. - -[Illustration: AT SCHOOL.] - -It requires a great deal of patience to teach this class of pupils -a useful calling, as more than one instructor remarked when the -doctor conducted a visitor through the various workshops. Some -are unwilling to learn; in Earlswood, as in all communities, each -variety of disposition is represented, as well as every degree of -lack of ability. - -"You can't make me work, you know, doctor," one patient maintained, -"for I am only an imbecile." - -Happily, in this little world which, in spite of its limitations, -manufactures and supplies for itself most of the necessaries of -life, all are not ready to make capital out of their infirmity. The -master-carpenter lamented the loss of a former diligent pupil, who -had been worth one pound a week to the institution, and he showed -with pride the doors and panels of another, who he said might now -earn his own living anywhere. This clever young carpenter had been -at Earlswood for three years, and in the workshop for two. He bore a -high character, and was so attached to the asylum that, when he was -at home for a summer holiday, he came back for a day. Yet before his -admission his relations had been unable to manage him. - -The master-tailor called one of his "best boys" to show the -waistcoat he was making. A good-looking middle-aged man descended -with alacrity from the table--where, in the time-honoured custom -of his trade, he worked in an attitude calculated to cause persons -of other callings violent cramp in the legs--and shook hands all -round with great warmth and friendliness. Directly he had displayed -a piece of work, in which his instructor took pardonable pride, -he returned with renewed diligence to his needle and thread. This -man's interest in tailoring is so keen that when he, in his turn, -does duty in the kitchen, he returns to his cloth and his favourite -attitude for every available moment. Seated together with the -first-class workmen are others, smiling over their attempts to learn -stitching or to make button-holes. They may possibly never get -beyond samplers, but time will show. - -In the shoemakers' shop similar degrees of skill and industry were -manifest. One man held in his hand a finished boot that he had made -from the beginning, whilst others could only be trusted to black -and polish. So it was with the rest of the twenty-five trades and -callings in which last year 198 men and boys were employed, each -according to his several ability. Perhaps the highest attainments -are seen in the printing department--the only one that undertakes -outside work. Besides the necessary printing for Earlswood and the -London office, 232 private orders were sent out last year, and -a profit was made of AL150. On the occasion of my visit, a young -compositor was not quite ready to show his proof to the doctor, who -inquired what he was doing. He had just set up the programme for a -patients' party, and had made it conclude with "Musicle Chairs"; he -wanted to correct the spelling before it was inspected. - -One elderly man, deaf, with an impediment in his speech and -afflicted in mind, had his own workshop. All around him were -evidences of his artistic skill. He looked tenderly at his own -drawings, but the objects of his special admiration were the various -magnifiers and reflectors he had designed and made to help him in -fine carving. H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, who is interested in -Earlswood, has lately presented him with some elephant tusks. It -was a pleasure to this artist to display the lightness of an ivory -landscape brooch. A piece of tortoise-shell at the back, with a -judicious arrangement of the golden and dark blotches, made it a -transparency. When held up on one side to the light, it was a sunny -scene; whilst on the other it was dark, with a full moon. - -[Illustration: A CORNER OF THE KITCHEN.] - -In spite of gentle manners and artistic skill, this man would -probably be unable to live or turn his talents to account outside -an asylum. He belongs to a class who for practical purposes never -outgrow mental childhood. Years roll by. Time brings them grey -hairs and other signs of his flight, but never carries them beyond -the need of fatherly care. Many with far less intelligence seem to -realise this. - -It is pathetic to hear in some wards the cry of "Mother!" and -see a smile of fancied recognition when a stranger appears. -One middle-aged woman who called out "Mamma, mamma!" had some -information, cheerful but incoherent, to impart. Then the name of -"George" suddenly arrested her flow of trivialities, and her face -puckered into a grotesque expression of distress. She raised her -hand and pointed upward, saying, "George up there." The sorrowful -remembrance was, however, transient; the next instant she was all -smiles. The eddy on the surface of her smooth life soon caught -the sunshine, but its presence was sufficient to call out fresh -compassion for the poor souls whose wits may have been lost under a -weight of trouble heavier than they could bear. - -The sad pages in the life-history of some of the most helpless are, -however, blotted out of their memory, or only dimly recalled by a -fragmentary remark. The sound of laughter in the recreation-room, -sitting-rooms, and playground is almost constant. If it shows the -vacant mind, it also bespeaks content. Pleasure and enjoyment are -circumscribed, but so also is the capacity for suffering in mind -and body. The patients have almost as little temptation to anxious -thought for the morrow as the ravens or lilies. - -In a narrow sphere a trifling event assumes great dimensions, and -the day may be easily filled with pleasures. The delight with which -one middle-aged patient said that she was going to have a new dress -had all the innocent glee of childhood. A lad who called out "Tick, -tick!" at the sight of the doctor was immediately made happy by -being allowed to listen to his watch. - -[Illustration: THE CHILDREN AT DRILL IN THE RECREATION-ROOM.] - -Various little treats are planned as rewards for good conduct. -In the winter, those who do well are invited once a week to join -in games in the recreation-room. Yet the Head Governess is of -opinion that the little ones are never happier than when they are -at lessons. According to their ability, they go through the course -usually adopted in elementary schools, and have the same physical -exercises. The elder girls are employed in housework or in the -laundry. Many, no doubt, enjoy the new experience of being usefully -employed, and industry and willingness are rewarded by an afternoon -walk to the town, a small amount of pocket-money, and a reward at -the New Year. - -[Illustration: MAT-MAKING.] - -The sense of right and wrong, and of responsibility, develops with -exercise. Of the many letters received last year at Earlswood from -the patients or their relations acknowledging the good results -of training, the Resident Physician looked upon one from a man -discharged five years ago as the most satisfactory. But for a course -of treatment the writer would probably have remained all his life as -a burden on his relations. He is now earning ten shillings a week in -a grocery business. After making this satisfactory announcement, he -continues: "I belong to a Bible-class. I am also in a club, so, if -I am ill, my mother gets ten shillings and sixpence per week, and -my doctor's bill paid." With inquiries after old friends, special -love to two, this patient remains a "loving friend." How many men -with all their faculties do more? And how many others fall below his -standard of duty and gratitude! In days of old, one out of ten to -whom the same miracle of mercy brought new life and health returned -to the great Healer and gave glory to God, and he belonged to a -class from whom least might have been expected. A good proportion -of the strangers to many privileges, as the feeble-minded must -ever remain, often live as examples of doing their best. A man is -accepted according to that he hath. - -[Illustration: SOME BASKET-WORKERS.] - -The highest and the only certain principle of good conduct is kept -before all who enter the asylum. Twice a day they meet for prayers, -and before and after meals grace, sung in the great hall to the -accompaniment of a fine organ, fills the corridors with music, -in which many of the patients delight. The resident Religious -Instructor last year found a note slipped into his hand, addressed, -"Mr. Small, from me." A patient wrote: - -"DEAR SIR, I wish to ask you, in a nice kind way or other, to have -two of my hymns on the 5th of February, which is Saturday. Please -have them in the evening--Nos. 500 and 532--and you may quite expect -a nice pocket-book from me.--Your friend, PERCY." - -It is not unusual for boys to ask that their birthdays may be -celebrated by singing their favourite hymns. - -Their teacher finds that lessons on the life and miracles of our -Lord always have a charm for the patients. Even those unable to read -or intelligently follow the prayers can enjoy Sunday; then they -receive pictures illustrating Bible incidents, and can, at least, -hear the hymns at the evening service, which in summer is held -under the trees. Methods of teaching must be adapted to the varied -capacity, but the lesson of the compassion of our Lord for every -infirmity is common to the 600 patients whom Earlswood now shelters, -whilst 130 are waiting for admission. - -One class may enter by payment, which varies according to the -circumstances and requirements. The lowest payment is sixty-five -guineas a year, and it includes entire maintenance and clothing -for twelve months. There are no vacations, unless the friends -desire it. Private patients do not mix with those on the foundation -either at meals or in the recreation-room. Some have their own -sitting-rooms and special attendants. - -Another class of patients may enter by part-payment. They are -elected from a list of candidates whose friends fill a position that -would preclude their gaining free admission, but who are unable to -make the ordinary payment. The minimum sum of fifteen guineas is -required annually so long as the child remains in the asylum. - -A large number of subscribers' votes, 700 at least, are required to -place a candidate for ordinary election on the foundation. Before -canvassing, a form must be obtained from the office, 36, King -William Street, London Bridge, E.C., in order to see if the case -is deemed eligible by the Board, whether for free or part-payment -election. For the well-being of the community in general, rules -cannot be broken. Great disappointment and trouble are sometimes -occasioned by an attempt to canvass before ascertaining that a -candidate will be approved by the Board. The receipt of parish -relief at any time disqualifies a candidate. Certain regulations, -the result of experience, have been made regarding receiving and -maintaining the large family whom the authorities have taken under -their care, and Earlswood is subject to the inspection of the -Commissioners in Lunacy. - -During fifty years the supporters of this institution have, in -a very literal sense, obeyed the injunction to "comfort the -feeble-minded." In spite of limp limbs and slouching gait, the -weakest among the imbecile bear the image of their Creator. Can -it be doubted that they are as precious to Him as the conies who, -though "but a feeble folk," find, under His providence, a refuge in -the stony rocks? In their helplessness and dependence, the afflicted -in mind find a place in the heart and affection of their guardians; -and who can tell how many have learnt, through them, to hide -themselves with all their infirmities in the Rock of Ages? - - D. L. WOOLMER. - -[Illustration: IN THE SHOEMAKING ROOM.] - - - - -[Illustration: MOTHER-HOOD] - -By Lina Orman Cooper, Author of "Our Home Rulers," Etc. - - -"There is many an arrow in my quiver, full of speech to -the wise, but for the many they need interpreters." - -So wrote Pindar long, long ago; and I, having gathered many arrows -of help and knowledge from the quiver of books around me, would -fain pass them on. In this paper I string these barbs to the bow of -motherhood, and trust they may pierce to the joints of the harness. - -Perhaps there is no subject absorbing more attention at the present -time than that of motherhood and heredity. Never has the cult of -maternity been better formulated--never has the practice of it -been more carefully studied. "In these days of pressure," writes -Lyttleton, "it is a mother's first duty to her children to secure -for them a full seven years of passive life." "The best and first -service a mother can do her children," says another writer, "is to -maintain the standard of her own life at its highest-- - - "'Allure to brighter worlds, and _lead the way_.'" - -"It is a mother's first duty to provide for each newborn soul -an environment which will foster its highest development," says -another. "To praise is a part of a mother's first work in the world -on behalf of her children," adds a fourth. "I consider it to be the -first and most important part of the education of childhood to lead -them early to think" is Froebel's opinion. - -The importance of a mother's influence during the first few years of -existence is repeated in Lord Macaulay's well-known aphorism, "Give -me the first seven years of a child's life, and let who will take -the rest"; and by Froebel, when he says, "The most important period -of human education is before the child is seven years old." - -We mothers, who are God's special servants--His instruments, as it -were, for the particular purpose of carrying out His will for the -wee individuals confided to us--are apt to think too little about -those first years of a child's life. Our children, from two to five, -are often left to self-education. Very little scientific care is -expended on them. Yet beauty of body and soul would not be so seldom -met with, or so transient as it is apt to be with us, if we truly -educated persons took our children in hand from their _babyhood_, -instead of leaving them to the most ignorant class of the community. - -"It is usual to speak of the Greeks," writes Peabody in his "Primary -School," "as if they were of exceptional organisation. Their -organisation was only exceptional because it was more carefully -treated in _infancy_ than ours is apt to be." - -"The laws which govern the growth of the human mind are as definite -and as general in their application as those which apply to the -material universe," and we know the basis of all development is -a _good foundation_. This must be laid in early youth, both as -regards the body and as regards the mind. "It is so fatally easy -to do mischief" in those first seven years. The limbs of a sapling -are not more easily bent than the budding desires of the infant. -"The soul instinctively expects love" from the first, and only a -mother's exclusively cherishing tenderness ought to be the rule in a -nursery. "The true educational instinct is but the mother's instinct -and method clearly understood in all its bearings and carried out -intelligently." - -This last word opens out a wonderful vista. "Parents should make -the care of their children an object to study physiology and -psychology," says Peabody; and thus we find education is always -mutual. According to Goethe, "the child teaches the parent what the -parents omit to teach him"; and, as Plato adds, "man cannot propose -(or woman either) a higher or loftier object for his study than -education and all that pertains thereto." - -Before leaving this branch of the subject, it is well for all -mothers clearly to understand the difference between education and -instruction. The former (training of the heart) belongs exclusively -to the parent. The latter (training of the intellect) to the -governess. As Renan puts it, "Instruction is given in the school. -Education takes place in the father's house; the masters are the -mothers and sisters." - -Well for us if we remember that education is always going on, -whether we will it or not. Our life, our morals, are affecting our -children for weal or woe, whether we realise or shirk the fact. -"Every human life is lifted or lowered by the home it is born -into." That magic and omnipotent gift of a mother's influence "is -an hourly, unconscious, emanating force" exercised on those around. -"We always know when we are instructing. We do not always know when -we are educating." The realisation of this amazing power is enough -to stagger the bravest heart. "A mother has to be convinced that -the great function of motherhood is not only to guard her child, to -exhort him, to train him, but to live her life in the presence of -that child as a pattern of what the child should aspire to become." - -A mother's influence should certainly be at its strongest during -the early years of life. It "depends on what she is, and only in a -subordinate way on what she does." Therefore, she can carry altruism -too far. A mother is of as much value in the sight of God as is -her child, and "the path in which she has to walk is plainly that -of self-sanctification for the sake of" that child. This implies -seasons for culture, rest, prayer, and the preservation of her body -in health. To quote Miss Mason on this point, "Health is a duty, and -any trifling with health, either vicious or careless, is really in -the nature of suicide, because life is held in trust from a supreme -Authority." - -Will the years be wasted if we spend them mastering the science of -education in our nurseries? Nay! even our personal charms will be -amplified by the most entrancing study in the world. "The perfect -loveliness of a woman's countenance can only consist in that -majestic peace which is founded in memory of happy and useful years -full of sweet records" (Ruskin). Verily we shall have our reward. - - - - -[Illustration: Remembrance. - - - _Words by_ JAMES MONTGOMERY. - _Music by_ GORDON SAUNDERS, Mus.D. Oxon. - - 1. According to Thy gracious Word, In meek humility - This will I do, my dying Lord--I will remember Thee. - - 2. When to the cross I turn mine eyes, And rest on Calvary, - O Lamb of God, my sacrifice, I must remember Thee. - - Amen -] - - - - -[Illustration: THE TEN LITTLE INDIANS] - -A FAIRY PARABLE. - -By Howard Angus Kennedy. - - -Once upon a time there were ten little Red Indians, -and they lived in a school-house built of logs on the banks of the -River Saskatchewan; and, if you cannot pronounce the river's name, -just try till you can. The reason they lived in a school-house was -that their fathers had gone hunting in the woods, and their mothers -were dead, so the wigwams were very lonely; but the children were as -happy as they could be, and enjoyed their schooling as much as any -white children enjoy their holidays. The teacher was a sweet white -lady from down beyond, who mothered them all so well that they never -even thought of being bad. At least, only two of them did; and they -never got beyond thinking about it, as long as the teacher was with -them. - -Down at the bottom of the river, in a deep, deep hole, there -lived a wicked wizard; and one morning very early he was prowling -along by the shore, with just the tip of his nose above water, -sniff-sniff-sniffing for the scent of anyone good to eat. Now it -happened that that morning the teacher had got up very early, and -was sitting on a stone by the riverside, trying to think of new -story-lessons to tell the children; and the wizard put up his long -snaky arm out of the water and caught her by the neck and dragged -her down to his cave. Then he tied her hands and feet, and waited -for her to drown; but drown she would not. So he thought she must -have a Testament in her pocket to act as a charm. The Testament was -really in her heart, which was a great deal better. So when he saw -she would not drown, he was a little frightened, and offered to let -her go if she would give him one of the children instead. - -"You wicked wizard," said she, "not one of them shall you have!" - -"We shall see about that," said the wizard; and out he went, leaving -the teacher tied fast at the bottom of the hole. - -Now, when the children came down, they were very much surprised -to find no teacher; but they took their morning dip in the river, -as she had taught them to do. Just as they were coming out to dry -themselves, a great grey fish put his head out of the water and -said--"Children, the wizard that lives in the hole has caught your -teacher, and he's coming to catch you." - -The children jumped out of the water in a great fright. "What shall -we do? What _shall_ we do?" they all began to cry. - -"Put on your clothes," said the fish, after he had gone down for a -moment to breathe. - -That was soon done, for they had very few clothes to put on. - -"Now get on our backs," said the great grey fish, who had come up -this time with nine others as like him as could be. Then the ten -fishes humped up their great grey backs, just keeping their heads -under water to breathe with and their tails to swim with; and the -ten children got on, and the fishes carried them across the big -river in a twinkling. - -"Now, children," said the chief of the fishes, "strike into the -wood as straight as you can go till you come to the old brown bear, -and he'll tell you the way to Fruity Hollow, where you'll get your -dinner; but don't speak to the grizzly bear, for he's the wizard's -son. Then go on till you come to the old grey wolf, and she'll tell -you the way to the otters' cave; but don't say a word to the red -wolf with the squint, for she's the wizard's daughter." - -The fish was quite out of breath when he got to the end of this -speech, and disappeared in a hurry. - -Then the ten little Indians marched off into the woods, Indian file; -and they all kept close together, one behind the other, except the -two little boys that sometimes wished they did not have to do what -they ought; and they dawdled behind. Pretty soon the children got to -where the poplars end and the pinewoods begin, and there they saw -the grizzly bear sitting on his haunches beside the path, with his -arms folded smugly across his chest and his cruel face trying to -smile. - -"Welcome, little darlings!" the grizzly bear said, in a voice as -sweet as honey. "Would you like me to take you to Fruity Hollow?" - -The children shut their mouths tightly, and went straight on, and -the grizzly gritted his teeth in disappointment; but when the two -bad little Indians came straggling along he sat up again and put on -his smirkiest smile and said-- - -"You poor little dears! What a shame it was for the others to leave -you behind! How hungry you must be! Would you like me to show you -the way to Fruity Hollow?" - -"That I should, indeed!" said one of the boys. And the grizzly bear -sprang upon him, and caught him up, and hugged him till the breath -was nearly out of his body, and strode off with him; and the other -boy ran on as fast as he could to catch up his companions. - -Meanwhile the eight little Indians marched steadily on till they -came to the old brown bear; and he was so fast asleep they could -only wake him by pulling his fur, but they took care to pull it -respectfully. - -"All right," said the old brown bear in a mumbly voice, "I know what -you want. First turning on the right, over the big tree that blew -down last winter." Then he went to sleep again before they could say -"Thank you, sir." - -When they came to a big tree lying with its roots in the air, but -with its needles still green, they scrambled over it and followed a -winding path down into a narrow valley just full of wild raspberry- -and gooseberry- and currant-bushes, and they picked and ate and -picked and ate till they could eat no more. Then they made baskets -of big leaves and twigs, and filled them with berries for supper, -and climbed back over the big tree and trudged along up the path. - -Soon afterwards they came upon the squinting red wolf, straddling -right across the track. - -"Here we are, you sweet little redskins," said she, with a grin two -feet long. "The otters have asked me to show you the way to their -cave." - -The little redskins turned almost white with fear, but they shut -their mouths tightly and pushed right on, and the wicked red wolf -had to jump out of the way in a hurry, for she did not dare to touch -children who remembered and obeyed. Presently the dawdler came up, -very hungry and tired--for the brown bear had been much too fast -asleep to tell him about Fruity Hollow--and burst out at once, -without thinking, "Please can you tell me the way to the otters' -cave?" Then the red wolf leapt upon him, and knocked him down, and -picked him up by the back of his clothes and carried him off at a -trot through the scratching brambles. - -Just where the pinewoods end and the poplars begin again, the eight -little Indians came upon the old grey wolf, curled up with her nose -on her tail; and she put up her head for the children to scratch her -neck. "Across the meadow and round the slough," she said when she -had been scratched enough; "and down the stony creek." - -So when they got to the edge of the wood they struck right across -the meadow, wading knee-deep in the long rich grass; and then they -found a path leading through another patch of poplar wood to a wide -green slough--or "sloo," as they call it in Canada--half-lake and -half-swamp; and they trod lightly round the narrow edge till they -found the place where the water oozed out into the creek. Down the -creek they went, with the stream purring beside their feet like a -kitten in the sun, and the mosquitoes humming over their heads, and -the silly loose-leaved poplars rustling all around them, wind or no -wind. - -"Listen!" said the biggest little Indian. And through all the -purring and humming and rustling came the long low swishing sound of -a big river. Then the eight little pairs of feet climbed out of the -creek-bed, and crossed a corner of land till they stood almost on -the edge of the river's earthen-cut bank. - -There was a bustling and a scurrying under foot, and then a row of -furry brown little heads popped up from the edge of the bank. "Come -in!" barked all the otters in chorus; and, scrambling down the bank, -the children followed the otters into their cave. There was plenty -of room, though the door was rather small, and a big bed of prairie -hay was spread on the floor. - -"We've been expecting you, you see," said the mother otter, when -the eight little Indians were squatting on their hunkers and eating -berries. "The fishes told us to look out for you about this time." - -"Have you made friends with the fishes, then?" asked the biggest boy. - -"No, we're not exactly friends, only allies. We hate the wizard more -than we hate each other, so we've joined to fight him. But I wish -it was all over, so that we could go fishing again. Gophers are -dreadfully dry food, and they do burrow in such dusty holes." - -After supper the eight little Indians lay down in a row, and all -the little otters spread themselves out into a big fur counterpane -to keep the children warm. But the big otters sharpened their teeth -as soon as it was dark, and swam down and down and down, with fiery -eyes, till they came into the River Saskatchewan; and then they swam -up and up and up till they came near the wizard's pit; and there -they climbed out and hid just under the edge of the bank. - -Presently they felt a heavy silent somebody tramping over the grass -from the wood, and they knew that the grizzly bear was coming, and -one of them slipped down to the water's edge to tell the great grey -fishes, who were lying just inside the river. - -"Well," said the greatest of the fishes, "what do you want us to -do?" For he knew that the otters must take the lead when fighting -had to be done. - -"You must pretend to be the wizard," said the otter, "and tell the -grizzly to come into the river up to his waist. We can fight much -better in the water, you know." - -So the fish put up his head, and called out, imitating the wizard's -voice as well as he could, "Is that you, my son?" - -"Of course it's me," grumbled the bear; "and a precious hard run -I've had with this little wretch. I'd a good mind to stop on the way -and eat him myself." - -"Never mind, my dear," said the sham wizard. "I'll pay you well. -Just bring him in, will you? The water won't come above your middle." - -The grizzly grumbled something about the water being cold, and he -thought his father might as well have come ashore; but he waded in, -all the same, and the otters dived and swam after him. And when the -water was up to his middle the fishes swam in between his legs and -nibbled his toes, and hit him hard on the legs with their great -tails, and toppled him right over; but still he held on to the boy -with one arm, while he clawed savagely at the fishes with the other. -Then the otters sprang at his shoulders, and bit right through the -fur and the flesh, so that he dropped the boy in the water; and -the fishes and otters kept up such a splashing and a jumping and a -biting that the bear could not see a foot in front of him, and the -boy dashed back to the shore and huddled shivering under the bank. - -"Help, help, help!" yelled the grizzly. "They've stolen the boy! -They're cutting off my toes! They're tearing off my ears! They're -flaying me alive!" - -[Illustration: "Help, help, help!" yelled the grizzly.] - -Then the wizard awoke, and leapt out of his hole, and came flying to -the rescue, raking the water and the air with his long snaky arms, -and screeching horribly. But before he got to where the grizzly was -rolling over and over in a whirlpool of mad otters and fishes and -foam, he heard the voice of his daughter, the red wolf, who had just -arrived and was calling out (as well as she could with a little -Indian's clothes in her mouth) to ask what was the matter. - -"If I've lost one, I'll make sure of the other," the wizard thought; -and he seized the boy from his daughter's mouth and plunged down -into the pit, leaving his grizzly son to look after himself. - -"We must save the boy!" cried the head otter. - -"He's not worth saving," said the fishes; "haven't we done enough -for one night?" - -The otters did not condescend to answer, but swam hotly after the -wizard, and the fishes followed without another word, leaving the -grizzly to hobble ashore and lick his wounds. - -None of the otters had ever dared to descend the wizard's pit -before, and none of the fishes had ever ventured within a hundred -feet of its mouth; but now the otters' blood was up, and they dived -like a flash, and caught up the wizard before he got to the bottom, -and fastened on his heels, and dug their teeth into his calves. The -wizard flung himself round and gripped an otter in each hand; but -they gnawed his wrists till their teeth met in the sinews, and the -rest of the otters swarmed round his neck and cut his head right off. - -"The boy is drowned, all the same," said the head fish, who swam -bravely down into the pit when he heard the otters' scream of -victory. - -"Not a bit of it," said the head otter; "it's only his badness -that's drowned; the boy will be righter than ever if you hurry -ashore with him." - -So the fishes pushed him up to the air and rolled him ashore; though -it was rather difficult, as he had not the sense to hold on, and -they had no arms to hold him by. - -Meanwhile the otters had gone down to the very bottom of the pit, -and bitten through the teacher's cords; and she kissed their wet -foreheads and left her dark prison, and the rising sun flung her -a rosy welcome as she stepped out on to dry ground. The squinting -wolf shut her eyes and howled, and fled into the wood with her tail -between her legs. - -The eight little Indians were having a fine romp with the little -otters when the big otters came back, tired and wounded, but proud -with glorious news. As soon as the story was told, the head otter -said--"Now, children, it's time to go home, and the fishes are -waiting. No going through the woods this time!" - -As he spoke, the fishes humped up their great grey backs, and the -children took their seats, and the procession never stopped till -it came to the little school-house, where the best of all teachers -stood smiling welcomes at the door and two shamefaced little Indians -pretended to be very busy at their sums inside. - -[Illustration: The procession never stopped till it came to the -school-house.] - -Then there was a great hugging and kissing and laughing and crying -for joy, while the little otters turned flying somersaults over the -desks and played catch on the grass outside, and the fishes looked -on through their water-window, till the children were tired of play -and begged for lessons to begin. - - - - -TEMPERANCE NOTES AND NEWS. - -By a Leading Temperance Advocate. - - -A MODEL TOWN. - -"Could we but do away with intemperance, the conditions -of living would become so changed that we should hardly know -ourselves," said John Bright on a memorable occasion. What would -the country be like without public-houses? We can form some idea of -the altered state of affairs by taking a trip to the model town of -Bessbrook in the county of Armagh. Here we shall find a thriving, -populous community without any public-house or place for the sale -of intoxicating liquor. It owes its origin to the philanthropic -prescience of the late John Grubb Richardson, a wealthy member of -the Society of Friends. In the early 'sixties he purchased an estate -of some sixty thousand acres, and there erected the factory which is -now world-famed as the Bessbrook Flax Spinning Mills. Approaching -the town from Newry, the spinning mills form the most prominent -feature in the view. The immense range of lofty buildings is of -noble proportions, and for massive elegance compares very favourably -with similar erections in the Lancashire and Yorkshire factory -districts. When the mills are in full work, occupation is afforded -for about five thousand hands. The chief feature of the model town -is a handsome square. There are several shops in addition to the -co-operative stores, and the houses are well built, varying in size, -every family being accommodated with three to six rooms, according -to the number of its members. There is an institute with a capital -library, a recreation room, a dispensary, excellent schools under -the supervision of the National Board of Education, a savings bank, -and half-a-dozen places of worship, the respective congregations -supporting the current expenses. The sale of intoxicating liquors -is entirely prohibited, and, as a consequence, there is not only an -absence of drunkenness, but a general freedom from the legion of -evils which seem inseparable from the liquor traffic. There is no -resident police officer, and it is only quite recently that there -has been any police perambulation of the model town, this latter -being due more to political disturbances in the near neighbourhood -than to any outbreak of crime on the part of the inhabitants of -Bessbrook itself. The North of Ireland thus furnishes an excellent -example of how to make the working classes thrifty, sober, -industrious, happy and prosperous. - -[Illustration: THE TOWN HALL, BESSBROOK.] - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Cuwell and Co., Ltd._) - -A VIEW OF BESSBROOK.] - - -A VILLAGE EXPERIMENT. - -The Rev. W. E. Bolland, M.A., vicar of Embleton, Northumberland, -has, in conjunction with some friends, launched a scheme for a -model club and hall for the village. The plan contains some novel -features, inasmuch as it embraces a working men's club, a public -hall available for meetings, entertainments, etc.; a cafA(C) and -refreshment rooms, specially catering for cyclists and visitors; -bedrooms for summer visitors, and also a public laundry. The -catering will exclude the provision of intoxicants, and it will -be seen from the illustration that the architect has planned a -very attractive looking house. This village scheme will be closely -watched, and, if it should succeed, there can be no doubt that the -enterprising vicar of Embleton will have many followers. - -[Illustration: THE PROPOSED TEMPERANCE CLUB FOR EMBLETON.] - - -THE BLUECOAT BOYS. - -In a very short time London will be deprived of one of its most -picturesque sights--namely, the tramp of its seven hundred or more -Bluecoat boys to the Mansion House on Easter Tuesday to pay their -respects to the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, and receive a monetary -gift, and a bun and a glass of wine. The Grecians are given a -sovereign and a shilling each; the junior Grecians a half-sovereign -and a sixpence; the monitors half-a-crown; and the other boys a -shilling each. The removal of this famous school to the country will -possibly put an end to the function. The glass of wine has become a -diminishing quantity in recent years; for, thanks to the activity of -a friend at court, lemonade was introduced as an alternative a few -years back, and now the teetotal boys have no hesitation in availing -themselves of this beverage. The preacher of the Spital sermon this -year is to be a life-long abstainer, the Bishop of Carlisle. - - -COMING EVENTS. - -The programmes for the May meetings are now nearing completion. -The Church of England Temperance Society announces as speakers the -Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Chichester, the Bishop of -Thetford, and the Rev. Dr. Ridgeway; the National Temperance League -relies upon the Archbishop of Canterbury, Mr. T. W. Russell, M.P., -Mr. John Colville, M.P., the Rev. George Hanson, B.D., and Miss -Agnes Weston; while Sir George Williams will preside for the United -Kingdom Band of Hope Union. The annual meetings of the Scottish -Temperance League will be held in Glasgow on April 17th; the annual -meeting of the Sussex Band of Hope Union will take place at Lewes -on April 26th; a social meeting of the Young Men's Auxiliary of the -National Temperance League will be held in Sion College on April -21st; the Hackney and East Middlesex Band of Hope Union will give -a reception in honour of its new President, the Dowager Countess -of Errol, on April 20th. The usual open-air demonstrations in the -London parks, promoted by the United Temperance Council will take -place on Saturday, June 17th. The Rev. F. B. Meyer will preach the -annual sermon of the Congregational Total Abstinence Society. The -Archbishop of Canterbury and Mrs. Temple will give a Garden Party -at Lambeth Palace on July 1st to meet the official advocates of the -temperance movement. The Norwich Diocesan temperance anniversary -will be held at Norwich from October 17th to October 24th inclusive. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Russell and Sons, Baker Street, W._) - -THE BISHOP OF LLANDAFF.] - - -TOTAL ABSTAINING BISHOPS. - -A few weeks ago the Lord Bishop of Llandaff agreeably surprised the -temperance workers of Cardiff by announcing that he had definitely -decided to try total abstinence. It may not be generally known that -the Right Rev. H. J. Foss, who has recently been consecrated Bishop -of Osaka, is an abstainer, and has been an active temperance worker -during the whole of his twenty years' residence in Japan. The Bishop -of Islington and the Bishop of Southampton are also total abstainers. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Cassell and Co., ltd._) - -THE BRADFORD TEMPERANCE HALL.] - - -THE FIRST TEMPERANCE HALL IN THE WORLD. - -The city of Bradford claims to possess the first Temperance Hall -in the world. The foundation stone was laid on Monday, March 13th, -1837, and the building was opened on February 27th, 1838, by the -Bishop of Ripon, Dr. Longley (who in succession became Bishop of -Durham, Archbishop of York, and Archbishop of Canterbury). This -famous building is still in regular use, the Bradford Temperance -Society being one of the most vigorous associations in the country. -A unique feature of the hall is a very handsome painted window -in memory of the late John Priestman. It is a four-light window, -and contains four female figures robed in mediA|val costumes, and -representing "Religion," "Temperance," "Health," and "Prosperity." -Above the central light is an effective portrait of Mr. Priestman. -Mr. George Field in his interesting "Historical Survey of the -Bradford Temperance Society," says:-- - -"The hall of this, the first temperance society in England, has -been a battle-field for many conflicts with drink, and some of the -greatest orators have made its walls re-echo with their oratory. -It has had amongst its friends and workers some of the best men -and women of Bradford. By its agency many a degraded sot has been -rescued and restored to respectability in society, but while the -curse of drink remains the work will have to go on." - - - - -SCRIPTURE LESSONS FOR SCHOOL & HOME INTERNATIONAL SERIES - -With Illustrative Anecdotes and References. - - -APRIL 16TH.--=Jesus Teaching Humility.= - -_To read--St. John xiii. 1-17. Golden Text--Ver. 15._ - -So far have had Christ's _active_ life coupled with His -teachings. Come now to His _passive_ life just before the close. -To-day's lesson--a sort of active parable--teaching His giving up -Himself for man. - -=I. The Washing= (1-11). _The time._ Just before Christ's last -Passover. Supper being "at hand" (Revised Version); washing taking -place before a meal (St. Mark vii. 3). Always known as the "Last -Supper" or Passover Feast. His "hour" for showing Himself fully as -the Saviour was now come. - -_The cause_ (ver. 1). Love passing all knowledge (Eph. iii. -19). Shown by its _greatness_--loved to the uttermost; its -_comprehensiveness_--including even Judas; its _lowliness_--doing a -servant's work. - -_The act._ Disciples began to dispute which should be the greatest -(St. Luke xxii. 24). Christ shows by His action what His opinion is. -The greatest in His kingdom are they who serve most. Takes towel, -water, basin; washes feet of each in turn. Who declines to accept -the act of service? But unless Peter submits to Christ, can have no -part with Him. He dreads separation from Him, therefore is eager now -to be wholly washed. Christ tells him two things-- - -(_a_) He cannot understand meaning of this act but will -hereafter--will add to his faith, virtue (or valour), and knowledge -(2 Pet. i. 3). - -(_b_) He who is washed, _i.e._ bathed (Greek), in Christ's atoning -blood (Zech. xiii. 1) needs only to "wash" or be washed from daily -sin to be kept clean and holy. - -=II. The Meaning= (12-17). _Equality_ in Christ's service. He is -their Master, but delights to serve them. Followers must copy His -example. - -_Service._ The spirit of His example to be followed--feeding hungry, -teaching ignorant, visiting the sick and sad (St. Matt. xxv. 35, 36). - -_Knowledge._ Life's mysteries to be cleared up hereafter. Duties -now, rewards future. - -=Lesson.= Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? - - -Kindness to the Poor. - - The great general, Sir William Napier, once met a little girl - in a country lane sobbing over a broken bowl. She had dropped - it after taking her father's dinner, and expected to be beaten - for her carelessness. Suddenly a gleam of hope seemed to - cheer her. "You can mend it, sir," she said, "can't you?" Sir - William explained that he could not mend it, but could give - her sixpence to buy another. It chanced, however, that he had - no money with him, so he promised to meet her at the same time - and place the next day with a sixpence. On his return home, he - found an invitation to dinner the next day to meet someone whom - he specially wished to see. What was he to do? He could not do - both; but the child had trusted him. He must do his duty to the - poor before thinking of his own pleasure. So he declined the - invitation and helped, as he had promised, Christ's little one. - - -APRIL 23RD.--=Jesus the Way, Truth, and Life.= - -_To read--St. John xiv. 1-14. Golden Text--Ver. 6._ - -Discourse with disciples at Last Supper continued. Peter, boasting -of his steadfastness, been warned of his coming fall, that very -night (xiii. 38), but comforted by thought of heaven to all who come -to God by Him for pardon. - -=I. The Many Mansions.= What they are? Abiding places (Greek). This -world passes away--heaven endures. They are many in number--room -for all. Also prepared by Christ for all who believe in Him. Christ -by His death opened heaven to man, and waits there to receive His -people. - -=II. The Way to Heaven= (4-7). _Christ the Way._ Came to reveal -this. None else could make atonement. God's holy Son alone could, by -dying for sin, open way to heaven for sinners. He alone lifted up, -gives eternal life (iii. 14, 15). - -_Christ the Truth._ Yet charged that night with blasphemy, worst of -all falsehoods, making Himself God (xix. 7). Yet was the perfect -truth. Exposed hypocrisy of chief priests, hollowness of Scribes -and Pharisees (St. Luke xi. 39, 44). Taught the spirit of the -commandments in Sermon on Mount (St. Matt. v. 21, 22, 28, 39, etc.). -Acted truth in His own perfect life. Taught God's truth to men. - -_Christ the Life_, though put to death day following. Author of -life; the world made by Him. Gave natural life once more to three -dead persons. Gave spiritual life to Nicodemus, who became disciple; -Samaritan who accepted His teaching (iv. 42). Raised Himself from -the dead, and gives eternal life to as many as believe. - -=Lesson.= He that believeth in Me shall not die. - -=III. The Father Revealed= (8-14). Cannot be seen by mortal eye (i. -18), but is seen in person of His Son. Christ reveals the person of -the Father full of love and pity to those in need; full of anger -against hypocrites, liars, etc. (viii. 44). Christ also reveals -works of God, miracles of mercy. Same, and even greater, power of -working miracles promised to His disciples after His departure. Also -answers to prayer made to the Father in His name. - -So the revelation of the Father shows Him as a loving Person, a -Giver of power, a Hearer of prayer. What more can Philip need? - - =Lesson.= "Thou art coming to a King, - Large petitions with thee bring." - - -"Is that All?" - - A wounded soldier in a hospital was visited by a clergyman, - who saw that his life was fast ebbing out. "Young man," said - he, "you are soon to die; are you saved from sin?" "No, sir," - was the reply; "what must I do?" "'Believe on the Lord Jesus - Christ, and thou shalt be saved.'" "Say that again," said the - soldier. It was repeated. Steadily looking at the minister, the - soldier said, "Is that all?" "Yes, that is all. No man goeth to - the Father but by Him." Closing his eyes for a few moments, the - young soldier opened them again and, raising his right hand, - exclaimed, "Lord Jesus, I surrender." Instantly his face shone - with brightness, and in a few days the new-born soul went home - to God. - - -APRIL 30TH.--=The Comforter Promised.= - -_To read--St. John xiv. 15-27. Golden Text--Ver. 16._ - -Christ continues to comfort and teach His disciples ready for the -time when He must leave them. - -=I. The Comforter= (15-17). See the order in the spiritual life. -First faith to believe in Him (ver. 1), then love to cling to Him, -then obedience to work for Him. He will help them. He must leave -them, but will not forget them. Will send Another to be with them -always--the Comforter. - -_His person._ Divine in nature; equal to the Father and Son (Acts v. -3, 4). - -_His name._ Holy Ghost, or Holy Spirit of God. - -_His work._ To aid Christ's people. How does He do so? By helping -their prayers (Rom. viii. 26). By giving counsel, _e.g._ showing how -to speak to adversaries (St. Matt. x. 19, 20), of which Stephen is -an example (Acts vi. 10). By strengthening their souls to do right; -hence called the Comforter or Strengthener. Also by revealing the -things of God. - -=11. The Result= (18-27). Consolations of Christ's people. _Comfort_ -by His continual presence. _Life_ present and future because of -union with Him. - -=Lessons.= 1. Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace. - -2. If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of His. - - -MAY 7TH.--=The Vine and the Branches.= - -_To read--St. John xv. 1-16. Golden Text--Ver. 5._ - -This parable one of two only in this Gospel. Spoken in court of -Temple after leaving Passover Feast. - -=I. The Parable= (1-8). _The Vine_ itself must be good and true, -planted in soil prepared for it. Husbandman places, cares for, and -watches over it. Unfruitful branches must be cut off, fruitful ones -purged--to produce more fruit--dead ones burned. Much fruit redounds -to glory of husbandman. - -_The meaning._ Christ Himself is the true ideal Vine, doing always -such things as please God. The husbandman is God, who placed Him in -the world (iii. 16) and watched over Him (St. Matt. iii. 17). The -branches are believers joined to Him by living faith. Fruit--the -graces of a Christian life. - -What are results of union with Christ the Vine? _Life_ to the -soul from life of Christ. _Fruit_ outward result of inward life. -_Answers_ to prayer. Christ and His people alike heard. _Glory_ to -God the Father. - -=II. Results of Union= (9-16). Metaphor dropped. Christ urges -disciples to continue in His love. Then they will have _full joy_; -_love_ to all arising from love to Him; _friendship_ of Christ as -evidenced by His death for them; _knowledge_ because of revelation -of Father. _Permanence_ of results. - -=Lesson.= Are we truly joined to Christ? What fruit is seen in our -lives? - - -Joy through Faith. - - Bunyan, in "The Pilgrim's Progress," pictures Christiana as - saying to Mercy, "What was the matter that you did laugh in your - sleep last night?" And Mercy said, "But are you sure I laughed?" - When she told her dream, Christiana said, "Laugh, ay, well you - might to see yourself so well." She laughed because she dreamed - that she had been welcomed into glory. To faith this is no - dream. Saved by grace, adopted by the Father, united to the Son, - taught by the Spirit, we have joy in the soul now and a good - hope of glory hereafter. - - -MAY 14TH.--=Christ Betrayed and Arrested.= - -_To read--St. John xviii. 1-14. Golden Text--Is. liii. 3._ - -Christ's hour now come--has finished teachings--must go forth to -die. Path of sorrow to be trod--He does not shrink. - -=I. Christ Betrayed= (1-11). _The place._ The garden or olive -orchard of Gethsemane. Note that Christ went forth of His own will, -knowing all before Him. Also He went not for concealment, but for -prayer. - -_The band._ Judas, His disciple, their leader. A band of Roman -soldiers to prevent a tumult, and officers of the Temple police -supplied by chief priests. Also chief priests and elders, and a -mixed rabble (St. Luke xxii. 52). All had common hatred of Jesus of -Nazareth. - -_The incidents._ Jesus comes forth with His three disciples, -Peter, James, John. He asks, "Whom seek ye?" Soldiers fall back in -surprise. He asks again--they answer. He asks that disciples may -go their way. Request granted; He lost none. St. Peter with sword -wounds Malchus. Christ heals his ear (St. Luke xxii. 51) and rebukes -Peter. Note the forbearance and majesty of Christ; the loving -impetuosity of St. Peter; the malice of Judas and the gratified -hatred of chief priests. - -=II. Christ a Prisoner= (12-14). The soldiers close in. Prisoner -bound because of attempt to rescue. The captain secures Christ, -leads Him to Annas, chief of priests and president of Jewish -Sanhedrim. - -=Lessons.= _From Judas._ Beware of covetousness. - -_From St. Peter._ The weapons of our warfare are not carnal. - -_From Christ._ He loved me and gave Himself for me. What have I -given Him? - - -Christ Loved Best. - - A martyr was going to be burned for Christ's sake. His friends - brought out his wife and young children, and made them kneel in - a long row and ask their father, for their sakes, to deny the - faith and live. But as he kissed them one by one he said, "I - would do anything for your sakes that I might live with you, but - since it is for Christ my Lord's sake, I must tear myself away - even from you." So he went to the stake. - - - - -[Illustration: SHORT ARROWS] - -NOTES OF CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORK. - - -A Remarkable Church Doorway. - -Clonfert Cathedral, in County Galway, can boast a very remarkable -and ancient doorway, which is regarded as one of the finest -specimens of Hiberno-Romanesque work now in existence. The shafts -and piers present an astonishing variety of decoration; every inch -of its surface has been worked by the sculptor's tool. Above the -rounded archway rises a triangular space filled with many carvings, -while the archway itself consists of several decorated semicircles, -one within the other. Norman and Romanesque porches may be found of -grander proportions; but Brash, in his "Ecclesiastical Architecture -of Ireland," declares that "in point of design and execution" he -had not seen this beautiful porch "excelled by any similar features -in these islands," and specially mentions its beauty of design and -fertility of invention. The Cathedral itself has had a long and -interesting history. It was founded by St. Brendan in the year -558, and suffered greatly from the Danes. It was burnt six times -between 744 and 1179, and was plundered thrice between 949 and -1065. In 1541 it was almost destroyed. Repaired by Bishop Wolley -in 1664, it was subsequently altered and improved to some extent, -but no general work of restoration was done, and consequently it is -in great need of repair. To this work Canon McLarney, the present -rector of Clonfert, has set his hand. Though small, the building is -very beautiful, and is now used as the parish church, the parish of -Clonfert being very large and measuring twenty-seven Irish miles in -circumference. The work of restoration is proceeding in sections -as funds are provided by the public. The chancel has already been -restored, and Canon McLarney hopes to collect a thousand pounds to -complete the work on the nave. One need not leave the British Isles -to see very ancient and interesting structures, and a writer lately -said it would be worth a pilgrimage to Connaught to see Clonfert -doorway alone. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Mr. A. C. White, Clonskea, Dublin._) - -A TWELFTH-CENTURY DOORWAY.] - - -The Westminster Choir Boys. - -Nowhere in England do the trained voices of a choir seem to -harmonise more perfectly with the surroundings than in Westminster -Abbey. Architecture, as an old German philosopher once described -it, is but "frozen music" after all. The noble anthems that rise -soaring upwards amongst the fluted columns and giant arches, the -hymns of praise that roll through the long aisles seem, as we listen -to the sacred music, not only to give thanks to Him who "made the -earth so bright," but to Him who gave England such men as lie -in the sculptured tombs around us. Not far from the Abbey--some -three minutes' walk, in fact, through Dean's Yard--stands a -tall, red-brick building. It is the choir school, where live the -twenty-four boys of the choir under the headmastership of Mr. -Arthur Hore. To gain admission, a boy must be at least eight years -of age, possessing a good voice and the knowledge of the rudiments -of music; he will also be expected to read and write fairly. His -examination on these points will be conducted by the master of the -choristers, Sir J. Frederick Bridge, or someone appointed by him. If -he passes satisfactorily, he will become a probationer, paying AL10 -a year towards his expenses; at the end of three years, however, he -will become a recognised member of the Abbey choir, and no further -charge will be made. The internal arrangements of the choir house -are excellent. On the ground floor are the big class-room and the -dining-room. To see the youngsters attacking a joint of roast beef -is a conclusive proof that the boy who sings like a young seraph -is, nevertheless, far from being the wishy-washy individual that he -is often represented to be in some poems and sentimental novels. On -the second floor is another big class-room containing the school -library. Walter Scott is there, and rows of well-thumbed volumes -of Henty. Many years ago Princess Alice gave a present of books to -the school. For some time they were kept ceremoniously shut up in a -glass case. The present headmaster, however, recognising that the -kind donor would have strongly objected to such a foolish use being -made of the volumes, placed them in the library for general use. On -the third floor are the plain, clean dormitories with their rows of -little iron beds and the regulation striped rugs over all. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Russell and Sons, Baker Street, W._) - -DR. BRIDGE AND THE WESTMINSTER CHOIR BOYS.] - - -A Chinese Y.M.C.A. - -Amid the discouragements which the recent revolution in Pekin -has occasioned to those concerned in China's welfare--for the -movement in question is manifestly anti-reform, anti-foreign, -and consequently anti-Christian--there are many signs that such -opposition cannot radically hinder this country's enlightenment. -Such a sign is the progress of the Y.M.C.A. movement among Chinese -youths, which is assuming considerable importance, especially in -connection with mission schools. It was found desirable to invite -from America an experienced worker in this department; and though -it will be some time before this gentleman can speak Chinese, -there is no difficulty in the matter of interpreters, native or -foreign. Yesterday in our large Shanghai mission church--says a -correspondent--there were gathered 200 Chinese boy-scholars from -various mission stations in and near Shanghai, all of whom were -either members of the local Y.M.C.A. or willing to join it. Earnest -addresses were given and prayers offered, both in English and -Chinese, the English addresses being admirably translated by a -Christian Chinaman; while the bright hymn-singing of these strong -young voices was a delightful sound. At the close of the morning -meeting papers were distributed to the boys containing questions to -be answered in writing, and a form, of Christian engagement to be -signed. At the afternoon service many of these were returned most -satisfactorily and intelligently filled in. Such assemblies have -recently been held with much interest and zeal, and apparently solid -results, at Nanking and other centres of missionary work. - - -The "Metal Man." - -At Tramore, near Waterford, a place where the Atlantic breakers -dash with sublime fury against the rocks, there are on one of the -headlands three towers, and on the middle one stands what is called -"The Metal Man." This is a figure made of metal, and painted to -resemble a sailor. With his finger he points to some very dangerous -rocks that are to be shunned. There are rocks in life's troublesome -sea that are ready to shipwreck the bodies and souls of the young. -These we should point out to them with as much diligence as does the -metal man when God has saved us from being shipwrecked upon them. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: A. H. Poole and Co., Waterford._) - -THE "METAL MAN," TRAMORE.] - - -A Saint's Rest. - -Richard Baxter was all his long life physically weak, and for -fourteen years had scarcely a waking hour free from pain. He felt -himself continually "at the door of eternity." At the close of his -life he said, "Weakness and pain helped me to study how to die; I am -going now to see that for which I have lived and studied." His death -was a fitting end to a life of pain and patience--a fulfilment of -his own words: "After the rough and tempestuous day we shall at last -have the quiet, silent night--light and rest together; the quietness -of the night without its gloom." - - -The Quiver Pictures. - -The six beautiful plates which the readers of THE QUIVER have the -opportunity of acquiring, and the last coupon for which is contained -in this number, are representative examples of the work of some -of the most notable exponents of sacred art among modern British -painters. The names of Leighton and Millais are now familiar in -every household, and great interest attaches to the works from -their hands included in this series of pictures. "The Star of -Bethlehem," by Lord Leighton, was painted in 1862, when the artist -was thirty-two years of age, and four years before his election -as Associate of the Royal Academy. The main figure represents one -of the magi on the terrace of his house, gazing at the miraculous -light which led him and his fellows to search out Him, "who was -born King of the Jews." "Christ in the House of His Parents" is one -of the most wonderful pictures painted by Sir John Millais. It was -exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1850, when the artist was but -twenty years of age, and, as related in the article on "Pictorial -Sermons" in our last number, aroused a storm of discussion among -the critics. The work is a veritable parable in paint, and, as its -allegories are all fully explained in the article referred to, we -need not repeat them here. The picture has great interest, apart -from this, as being one of the best specimens of the work of the -artist's Pre-Raphaelite period. "Christ Washing Peter's Feet," by -Ford Madox Brown, which was presented to the nation by a body of -subscribers; and now hangs in the Tate Gallery at Millbank, is a -typical painting, and one of the most beautiful examples of this -artist's work. Exquisite in colour, it is a perfect specimen of what -a picture dealing with a sacred subject should be. Full of reverence -and piety, it yet illustrates the subject fully; the rugged figure -of the apostle, expressing withal the penitence produced by the -rebuking words, "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with Me," -contrasts strongly with the humility of the Master kneeling to -His self-imposed task. "The Remorse of Judas," by the late Edward -Armitage, R.A., is another picture to be seen at Millbank, and is, -perhaps, one of the strongest works produced by this artist. The -terror of remorse is expressed in every line of the face of the -betrayer, while the cold indifference of the priests, now that their -work is accomplished, is admirably portrayed. "The Raising of the -Widow's Son of Nain," by W. C. T. Dobson, R.A., was shown at the -Academy in 1868, and fully explains itself. The joy of the mother -and the surprise of the beholders of the miracle are well rendered; -but the main interest of the picture, of course, centres in the -boy. His gaze is fixed upon Him whose voice has recalled him from -the "valley of the shadow." The last picture of the series, by W. -Dyce, R.A., was recently added to the national collection, and was -removed from Trafalgar Square to Millbank when the new gallery was -completed. It represents the Apostle John taking Mary to his own -home after the death of their Lord. Mary carries on her arm the -crown of thorns, and in the background may be seen Nicodemus and -Joseph of Arimathea, who are just leaving the garden which contains -the sepulchre. Mary Magdalene and the "other Mary" are seen seated -at the mouth of the grave. The picture was painted in 1860. - - -Public Charity. - -According to a recent calculation, the amount given during -the previous year by Churchmen towards Christian work of all -kinds, such as Church Building, Home Missions, Foreign Missions, -Education, etc., was over AL5,750,000. The various Presbyterian -Churches contributed during the same time for similar work a sum of -AL1,600,000, and the Wesleyans gave over AL500,000; the Calvinistic -Methodists about AL228,500; the Baptists over AL200,000; and the -Primitive Methodists over AL100,000. Of the Congregationalists and -the "Friends" no such statistics are available, and it is estimated -that other branches of the Christian Church in England gave an -aggregate of not less than AL150,000 towards the same work. Generally -speaking, all the different bodies contribute in a fairly equal -proportion, directly or indirectly, to the different kinds of -Christian work--at any rate, sufficiently so for the comparison we -wish to make here. So, taking the Church of England's returns as -our standard, we find that these proportions are nearly as follows, -1 being our unit:--Church Building and Repairs, 35; Home Missions, -7; Foreign Missions, 10; Educational Work of all kinds, 20; various -Charitable Works of other kinds, 6. - -[Illustration: DIAGRAM ILLUSTRATING PUBLIC CHARITY.] - - _The church_ (1) _represents the money spent in building - places of worship._ - _The mission room_ (2) " " " _home mission work._ - _The native hut_ (3) " " " _foreign - mission work._ - _The school_ (4) " " " _educational work._ - _The hall_ (5) " " " _other general - charitable work._ - - -A New Quiver Heroine. - -The latest recipient of the Bronze Medal of THE QUIVER Heroes Fund -is Annie Healand, a servant in the employ of Mr. Frederick Latham, -of Sledmere. On the afternoon of January 28th last, two little boys -and a girl were suddenly immersed beneath the ice whilst sliding -on a pond. On hearing of this, Annie Healand, who is herself but -fifteen years of age, immediately rushed to the rescue, and, -plunging in, succeeded in bringing the little girl to the bank. She -then endeavoured to find the two boys, who were still under the ice, -but was at last reluctantly compelled to give up the search, through -being overcome by the intense cold. The bodies of the lads were -afterwards found, and the coroner congratulated the brave girl for -the very plucky manner in which she had rescued one of the party and -attempted to save the others. - - -International League of Peace. - -We are still daily receiving the names of numbers of new members, -and one roll of signatures which has just come to hand measures -thirty feet in length. Any number of blank forms will be gladly -sent, post free, to those requiring them. We may take this -opportunity of announcing that the first member to send in a -thousand signatures is Mr. John N. Munro, of 50, Park Road, Glasgow, -to whom a cheque for Ten Pounds has been sent, in accordance with -our offer. - - - - -ROLL OF HONOUR FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL WORKERS. - -The =Special Silver Medal= and =Presentation Bible= offered for the -longest known Sunday-school service in the county of =Devonshire= -(for which applications were invited up to February 28th, 1899) have -been gained by - - LOUISA JANE LARGE, - Cross Street, Northam, Bideford, - -who has distinguished herself by =sixty-two= complete years' service -in Northam Church Sunday School. - -As already announced, the next territorial county for which claims -are invited for the Silver Medal is - - KENT, - -and applications, on the special form, must be received on or before -March 30th, 1899. We may add that =Cheshire= is the following county -selected, the date-limit for claims in that case being April 30th, -1899. This county, in its turn, will be followed by the territorial -county of =Somersetshire=, for which the date will be one month -later--viz. May 31st, 1899. - - -AN INTERESTING LETTER. - -The following letter, received from the Devonshire Silver Medallist, -of whom particulars are given above, will doubtless be interesting -to all our readers, and especially to Sunday school workers:-- - - "In sending the enclosed certificates I should like to add that - I began my career as a Sunday school teacher at the age of ten, - with a class of four little girls, and proud enough I was. That - was some time in the year 1836. From that date to the present - (1899), I have been teaching continuously in the same school, - except when occasional illness or absence from home for a few - Sundays made a break. I am now teaching the grandchildren of - former scholars. Many changes have I seen; such a difference - in the teaching and general management of Sunday schools since - 1836! Only two or three individuals are now living who were with - us when I began my work." - - -THE QUIVER FUNDS. - -The following is a list of contributions received from February -1st, 1899, up to and including February 28th, 1899. Subscriptions -received after this date will be acknowledged next month:-- - - For _"The Quiver" Waifs' Fund_: J. J. E. (135th donation), - 5s.; Anglo-Indian, 5s.; M. R. B., Ipswich, 4s. 2d.; C. E. H., - 3s. 6d.; A Glasgow Mother (105th donation), 1s.; E. A. W., - Petersfield, 2s. 6d. - - For _Dr. Barnardo's Homes_: An Irish Girl, AL1; E. J. L., - Glenageary, 10s.; X. J., 10s. 6d. The following amounts have - been sent direct:--A Well-Wisher, AL2; Lila Noel, AL1; G. C., 8s.; - P. P. O., 5s.; Ruth L., AL1. - - For _The Hospital for Women_: A Thank-Offering, 1s. - - For _The Leper's Mission Fund_: Two Jersey QUIVER Readers, 4s. - 6d. - - - - -[Illustration: decorative] - -THE QUIVER BIBLE CLASS. - -(BASED ON THE INTERNATIONAL SCRIPTURE LESSONS.) - - -QUESTIONS. - -61. What did our Lord do as a rebuke to His Apostles when they -disputed among themselves as to who should be the greatest? - -62. In the discourse at the Last Supper, what did our Lord say is to -be the distinctive mark of all His disciples? Quote passage. - -63. In what words did Jesus warn St. Peter of the temptation which -awaited him? - -64. By what promise did our Lord seek to comfort His Apostles on the -eve of His crucifixion? - -65. Which of the Apostles seems to have been very slow in -comprehending the divinity of our Lord? - -66. Quote some words from our Lord's answer to St. Philip in which -He clearly declares His Godhead? - -67. What does our Lord say is the true test of our love to Him? - -68. What is the great blessing Christ gives as the result of the -influence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts? - -69. What is the general purport of our Lord's parable of the Vine? - -70. What does our Lord give as the greatest proof of true love? - -71. What was the position of the garden of Gethsemane? - -72. From what circumstances do we gather that the Jews expected -great difficulty in arresting our blessed Lord? - - -ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 480. - -49. In the parable of the Sheepfold our Lord speaks of a porter who -had charge of the door, and of a thief climbing over a fence (St. -John x. 1-3). - -50. St. John x. 9. - -51. Our Lord speaks of Himself as the Good Shepherd, who giveth His -life for the sheep, while the Jewish teachers, as hirelings, cared -not for them (St. John x. 11-14). - -52. St. John vii. 15. - -53. St. John v. 39. - -54. Turning the water into wine and healing the nobleman's son (St. -John ii. 1-11 and iv. 46-54). - -55. The fact that the body had been buried three days. - -56. That it was done to increase the faith of the Apostles by -showing them that there was no limitation to the power of Christ -(St. John xi. 15). - -57. So many Jews believed in Christ that the chief priests thought -of killing Lazarus as well as Jesus (St. John xi. 47-53 and xii. 10, -11). - -58. Because it would seem that Martha was hostess at the house of -Simon the Leper, where Mary, her sister, anointed our Lord with the -precious ointment of spikenard (compare St. John xii. 1-3 with St. -Mark xiv. 3). - -59. St. John tells us that Judas Iscariot acted as treasurer for our -Lord and His disciples, but that he was a thief (St. John xii. 6 and -xiii. 29). - -60. Caiaphas prophesied that Jesus should die (St. John xi. 39). - - - * * * * * - -Transcriber's note: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - -Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. - -Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. -Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as -printed. - -Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the -original text. - -Mismatched quotes are not fixed if itaEuro(TM)s not sufficiently clear where -the missing quote should be placed. - -The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the -transcriber and is placed in the public domain. - -The hymns are handwritten on pages 483, 534, 535 and 536. There are -handwritten signatures by Arthur H. Brown on page 536, and John -Stainer on page 538. - -Page 508 and following: The chapter titles in the section "For the -Sake of the Child" are in handwritten script. - -Page 559: "in the evening--Nos. 500 and 532--and"--the number 500 is -unclear. - -Page 560: "must be obtained from the office, 36,"--the number 36 is -unclear. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Quiver, by Anonymous - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUIVER 3/1900 *** - -***** This file should be named 43658.txt or 43658.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/6/5/43658/ - -Produced by Delphine Lettau, Julia Neufeld and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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