The Cambrian

of linkers. The main reason why so many thoughtful women now claim direct Parliamentary repre- sentation is an unselfish one. They desire to take their full share in the service of the race; to help to solve those grave social problems now so urgently pressing, and which demand for their solution the combined resources of the wisdom, experience, and heart of both halves of humanity. They know that the time is fast coming—if, indeed, it be not already come—which will need for its direction and control something more than diplomatic cleverness or political manoeuvring, which will demaud the clearer conscience and the more sensitive perception of justice born of imaginative sympathy. It is because they hope and believe that in virtue of their faculty of motherhood they can contribute somewhat of these elements to the world's well-being, and can thus speed its progress towards a nobler future, that they claim their fall right and power to follow and fulfil their highest con- ceptions of duty.—Elizabeth, C. Wolstcnholme Ebwj. The human body is a commonwealth of organs governed by staole and immutable con- ditions which we call the laws of health. To neglect or transgress these laws is to sin, and to sin is to involve suffering herein is the true philosophy of life. Learn to subject this body of yours, in which the higher nature is closed for this life, to the law3 that lead to its prosperity, so will you be healthier and happier. This pathway of life is a straight and narrow road, and, as depicted in the vision of Mirza, filled with pitfalls that lead to the river of deai h, with its tributaries misery and ill-health. The true presever of health is knowledge. .Now there should be, over-ruling all our actions, two important and necessarrv rules for conduct—temperance and self-control. This life is finite, and lies between two barriers of doom, abstinence on one hand and excess on the other. Too much light and too little blinds, too much food poisons, too little starves, too much cold freezes, too great heat kills, too much oxygen stupefies us, too little suffocates. In all things the happy medium should be our choice.— Arthur M. Beale, M.B.

Uawties, &c. She-" Do you think he is a real nobleman ? He-" He must be, he isn't an ideal one." Jack, said mamma, run into the parlour and see whether your father is asleep or not." Not quite," exclaimed Jack, on his return. He is all asleep but his nose." You'll let me come to your wedding, dear, of course ? Well, I can't promise. My people are so enraged at my choipe that I hardly know whether I shall be allowed to go myself." Yes, young ladies," said the professor, Pallas Athlene, the German goddess of wisdom, was unmarried." And from that day the goose wondered why those girls wouldn't s'udy She—" You say the rice pudding isn't good, John ? That's very strange. I made it out of the cookery book. He-"That's what I half suspected. You should have made it out of rice, my dear. Mrs. Potta—" I suppose you have a wife and leven children at home starving." Everett Wrest—"Of course, I ain't. Do you suppose I would be out workin' sich weather as this here ef I had a family to support me ? The author had written one successful story, and he never grew tired of it, dear. "Don't you know," said one of his friends to another one day, "Riter always reminds me of a pleased dog." "That's odd. How does he "He's always wagging his tale." DELICIOUS MAZAWATTEE TEA DELICIOUS MAZAWATTEE TEA DELICIOUS MAZAWATTEE TEA DELICIOUS MAZAWATTFF TFA DELICIOUS MAZAWATTEE TE\ DELICIOUS MAZAWATTEE TEA r e Representative Tea of Ceylon. A wild fear seized upon her. He has gone for ever she shrieked. She had secretly entertained the expectation that the man she had spurned would come back, until she had looked over the hat rack and found that he had taken a much better umbrella than he brought. For ever she moaned. I see bv the paper," said Mrs. Montpelier, H that there was a robbery last night at the Golightlys. It savs the robbers cleaned the house out." Happy Goli-utly said Mr. Montpeiier, I wish the}' would come here." •" I should like to know why ? 1 Ihe house cleaning- would be done then." answered the unhappy man. i he husband and wife had just come into town, and were merely stopping ov-er between -trains frr him to attend to some business. .J' Well, J08n," she said, as he was leaving her at the hotel, I think, while you are out I will go and do About five minutes shopping," I don t think you ought to try to, my dJaf." he said, in tones of mild reproach, you know we have only three hours, and we mustn't missthat train." (

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odur ISttlptt. -I- THE FIRST CHRISTIAN MARTYR. No. XXIX. [BY THE REV. J. H. HUGHES, PASTOR. OF L LIBANUS BAPTIST CHAPEL, CWUBWRIA.] J The enemies of Stephen brought two accusations against him—the one having reference to the Law, and the other to the Temple—and he refuted both in a powerful and triumphant manner. He meets the first accusation by showing that Moses himself, he through whom the Law was given, had fore- warned them that it should be contained in a better and more perfect dispensation. He meets the second accusation by showing that their fathers, in the beginning, worshipped God in the Spirit, and that the Divine presence had not been confined to the Holy Land, or the Temple at Jerusalem. He shows that God was with Abraham when he had no possession in Canaan, that He was r^IS people when they were in a foreign land, that He was with Moses in Midian, that He appeared on Sinai, and that the wilderness was a sacred land. As Stephen proceeded with his speech he perceived that wrath and indigna- i tion moved his judges; and to use the language of the Divine historian, "they were cut to the heart." When Stephen saw this, he turned his eyes towards the firmament above, and as he gazed, the Heavens seemed to open, and he saw the glory of God and Jesus standing on the right hand of God." Probably, on seeing this, Stephen spoke aloud describing the glorious vision. When his judges heard him speaking of the Divine exaltation of the person whom they had so recently killed, they could not restrain their anger any longer, then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord." I. THE EXCELLENCIES OF THE LIFE OF STEPHEN. First, he was honest and faithful. He describes the character of the chief men of the nation, and that before their faces, in their most sacred place, and in the hearing of their best friends. He speaks the truth, honestly and faithfully under the most disadvantageous circumstances. He is aware that he is addres- sing men in the most important and influential positions among the nation, and that he will probably be persecuted for his conduct but still, he avows what he believes of God and man, whatever may be the conse- quences. There is no inconsistency between his words and his belief. His heart is seen through his words, and in this he much Tesembles bis Lord, who always says the worst of men to their faces and the best of them behind their backs. When he speaks of the Jews to the Jews themselves, he says, ye are of your father, the devil but when he speaks of the Jews to the woman of Canaan, who is a Gentile, he calls them children—" It is not not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." So very tenderly does He care for them We should possess the spirit of Stephen, to speak, not only against sin, but also against those who are guilty of committing it. It is impossible for him to be a Christian who goes through the world friendly with all. The best men of the world were not such. John the Baptist was beheaded and Stephen was martyred because of their honesty and faith- fulness. Secondly, Stephen is able and intelligent. We find him debating with the chief men of the synagogue at Jerusalem, and it would seem they were always overcome. The chief men of the chief synagogue of the nation were unable to subdue him in discus- sion. Probably, Saul of Tarsis discussed with him many a time but Saul was not equal to Shephen-" they could not resist the wisdom and the spirit by which he spoke." The wisdom refers to the greatness of his know- ledge, and the spirit by which he 3poke to the powerful and effective manner in which he uses his knowledge. We find him in his address before the Council relating the whole history of God's dealings with His people in a mighty and effective manner and that under the most disadvantageous circum- stances. Some say there are twelve incon- sistencies in his speech, but the wonder is there are so few, as the circumstances under which he speaks are very exciting, and as he has no opportunity of consulting the Scriptures; but has to relate the whole history entirely from memory; and the way in which he does this, shows how well he is acquainted with it. It is dangerous to possess religious zeal without religious knowledge. We must possess both to be of true worth to religion. The really good man delights to enrich his head with knowledge as well as his heart with grace—" His delight is in the law I of the Lord; and in Hi? law does he meditate day and night." Thirdly, Stephen is great in faith. There are two facts which particularly show the greatness of his faith. He looks steadfastly into Heaven, aud he dedicates his spirit to the care of his Lord. When the young man or the young woman is in some special emergency the first place he or she looks to for help is home. They have a stronger hope of receiving aid from that quarter than from any other. Thus it is with Stephen—he looks stedfastly into Heaven, because his Father, the object of his faith and confidence, is there. The his faith and confidence, is there. The greatness^ of his faith is obvious, too, in his committing his spirit .to the care of God. We never trust our most important possessions We never trust our most important possessions to those m whom we cannot confide. Stephen I makes no mention of his body; but he dedicates his spirit to the care of Him in whom he has the greatest faith and confi- dence. God does better than even the strongest faith asks him. Stephen only asks him to take care of his spirit but God cares for his body as well—" devout men carried SteDhen to his burial, and made great lamen- tation over him." God will always take care of us if we only trust Him. Fourthly, Stephen is full of the Holy Ghost. There is so much of God in him that his enemies are struck with astonishment at his appearance-" They saw his face as if it had been the face of an angel." There is more of God in the Christian than can be found elsewhere. God in Christ can not be found rightly but in His Word and in His children. "Being full of faith" is good, but being full of the Holy Ghost" means more. Faith at the best is only the human attaining after the Divine but being full of the Holy Ghost" means that the human possesses the Divine. It is well to confide in God, but it is better to possess God. We live in God through faith but God lives in us through the Holy Spirit- ine unnstian lives in God and God lives in the Christian." Fifthly, Stephen is great in prayer. The words, "they stoned Stephen calling upon God" are strikingly beautiful. He was great in prayer through life and in death. He was dying and prayinc at the same time—his spirit and his prayer went up together. Stephen is a very mighty suppliant. 11 He bends his knees in the midst of the showers of stones that are thrown at him. He does not .believe in praying irreverently, but he bends humbly before God-" he kneeled down." He does notpray in a cold and indifferent manner, but he throws spirit and energy into his prayer-H he cried out in a loud voice." He prays for others, too, as well as for himself. He believes in bringing the souls of others before God in prayer. Stephen prays to the right person, too—"Lord Jesus." He avows his Lord in the midst of his enemies—" Lord Jesus." He has avowed Him in life and he is resolved to cleave to Him in death as well. It is the greatest blessing to be able to pray, and especially to pray for others in dyin°\ Stephen is so related to God that he is able to pray for others in dying-" Lord lay not this sin to their charge." Sixthly, Stephen is great in meekness. The word meekness implies calmness of mind in the face of the most crsiel and unjust treatment, and this feeling was never more gloriously manifested than in the circumstances of Stephen's death. When his enemies were in the extremity of their anger and cruelty killing him with stones- he could even then exercise sucli a meek and gentle disposition as to kneel down and pray for them.. He has grown so much like his Lord that he uses nearly the same words as He in praying for His enemies. Jesus said | Father forgite them"; and Stephen said, Lord lay not this sin to their charge." He must hay J li<jd much with his Lord to have grown so much like Him. He seems as if He had inade a special study of the way in which the Saviour had died, and was resolved to die as much like Him as pessible, and he well succeeded. There is a striking resemblance « between Christ dying for Stephen, and Stephen dying for Christ. There is not in the history of any one else such an example of greatness and meekness in the presence of death. Pagans can die bravely, but only saints can die meekly. Savages can die boldly, but believers in Christ only can die divinely." Stephen dies divinely—he dies like his Lord-praying for his enemies. Lord lay not this sin to their charge." There was a godly father once who had a wicked son; the father was so much annoyed by him that he had to tell him to leave his house. Some time afterwards the father was taken very ill, and the only daughter he had, who was a good and religious young woman, felt distressed that the dying father did not forgive the prodigal son bad as he was. She came to the father's bed one day, and said, Father will you try to repeat the Lord's prayer after me ?" And they began—the daughter saying petition after petition—and the dying man repeating in a low faint voice. But when they came to the petition and forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us "—the dying father could not repeat that petition without forgiving the prodigal son, unworthy as he was. We come nearest to Christ when we forgive our enemies, and bless those who I hate us. II. THE GLORIES OF THE DEATH OF STEPHEN. Firstly, he saw the Heavens opened. This does not mean the Heaven from which innumerable stars throw their bright and glorious light, nor the Heavens in which the numberless winged creatures fly in happiness and freedom, but the Heaven of glory-the masterpiece of the creation of God-the land whose summer never ends, whose sun never sets, and whose glory never fades. Secondly, Stephen saw the glory of God, as it displayed in Heaven. Thirdly, Stephen saw the son of man standing on the right hand of God." Christ is usually represented as sitting at the right hand of the Father." But he now stands, because He is interested in His holy martyr Stephen. He stands to encourage Stephen in the battle; He stands ready to welcome him home and to put the crown of victory on his head. There is nothing too much for Jesus to do for his faithful followers. He crowns them with His own hands. Let us strive more than ever to contemplate our Saviour, and to emulate such nobla men as most closely followed Him.

THE BLIND MAN'S HOARD. A STORY FROM THE SPANISH. [BY HELEN ZIMMERN.] In a little town, scarcely more than a village, of Arragon, there lived a man, who, in trying to get cured of an inflammation in the right eye, lost both this one and the left one as well, so that the remedy was very much worse than the disease. When he found himself incurably blind, he remembered that he could play the guitar fairly well, and that he bad a very good voice for singing; and as he was still in his youth, and eyes are not necessary for music, but ears, and which he possessed, delicate and sensitive to a high degree, he gave himself up to singing and to thrumming the guitar and he became great friends with the organist, whose best pupil he was, and of whom he was finally the successor. As soon as he found himself organist of the parish church, owner of a dear little cottage and of a few acres of excellent soil, which he was able to let out to farmers round about, and well beloved by his neighbours for his great musical talent and merry humour, be- hold our blind friend so happy that he would not have exchanged places with any other mortal, even if he had possessed as many eyes as a fly, or as there are spots in a peacock's tail. It was a pleasure to see him in the summer, above all on high days and holidays, when evening was coming on, seated at the door of his cottage, in the shade of a vine-trellised arbour as green as it was ancient, scraping the guitar with unequalled grace, while a young and merry company, dressed up in their Sunday best, danced away to their hearts' content on the village green close by. As soon as the playing, the dance, and the shuffling of feet were over, the greater part of the young people withdrew,while their seniors, who formed the more important half of the community, stepped out in10 the open air, be- neath the starry sky, where, seated in a. large and friendly circle, they gave themselves up to gossip until a goodly number of gallons of strong red wine had been decanted from the pitchers into their stomachs, a number of merry jokes, flavoured more with rustic than Attic salt, had been told, and more than one absent neighbour's character pulled to pieces. The merry circle then broke up, and each and all of the members loitered home to snore in the sleep of the just. But the blind man wae not one of the first to repose in the arms of Morpheus. Before slipping between the sheets, an amusement, sweeter far than that of the village dance, occupied him pleasantly for at least an hour and a half two nights a week. Meanwhile you must know that although well on in the fifties, Senor Ambrosio-for that was the name of our blind friend-was still sturdy and robust as an oak, and proposed to live for at least another balf-century, not only in order to leave behind him an example of praiseworthy longevity, but also because he was enjoying himself in this Vale of Tears. But, as with his good common sense, he knew perfectly well that a wife for a man of his mature age would be a funeral knell, he had decided to remain a bachelor, and after the death of the housekeeper, who hitherto had attended to his simple wants, he invited a young married nephew to come and live with him. And now to return to this pleasant oc- cupation of his. Let us imagine to ourselves that it is midnight; the merry throng have departed the door is closed from within with bolt and bar our blind friend's nephew and niece have supped and gone to bed; they are already fast asleep amongst their little ones you might hear a pin drop. Our blind friend has, like all those who suffer from his in- firmity, a most delicate ear if he had taken the trouble to lsten, he could have heard the grass grow. He listens now, and stands for a long time motionless, on the alert, scenting the air like a hound. When all is silent as death, and be feels himself surrounded by ob- scurity and profound solitude, he stealthily opens his chamber door, and sneaks down the passages as noiselessly as a fox, and without knocking against a single ooject in the house, unbars the outer door, steps into a little yard, and after another pause, in which he again listens attentively, makes his way to the foot of a tree, digs up a large bag, and returns to his bedroom with the same precautions. According to the bent back with which my friend, Senor Ambrosio, walks along, his shuffling footsteps and laboured breathing, the bag is certainly not full of straw, May God give us much of such straw. Of this straw, and of no other kind, would I fain have a full granary. He is already within his chamber, has closed the door from within, and his hand trembling with joy, is emptying the bag of its contents. And what contents, Holy Mother! Proud guineas, half-guineas, and gold doubloons, haughty Mexican dollars, i auampea with the impression of both hemi- spheres, and the famous motto "plus ultra," and a perfect sea of columned silver coin. There is no copper amongst them, for that is a doleful and dirty money, and Senor Ambrosio is as cleanly as a spring of water, and more lively than a pair of castanets. Besides, copper occupies much space, and is but of little value; it only serves to cut a poor figure in a poor-box for the redemption nf souls in Purgratory. r Upon the table, which is wide, roomy, and covered with baize, the blind man now arranges in lines and little groups his silver and golden army. The proud guineas are the generals and other commanders; the half- guineas are the aides-de-camp, and the military staff which surrounds them; the rows of doubloons are the flower of the army; the small silver represents the multitude of the common soldiers, and the piles of massive dollars the bastions, forts, redouts, entrench- ments, and other fortifications opposed to the enemy. After a while the enemy advances in the shape of Senor Ambrosio's ten fingers, which begin by capturing the generals, and making them prisoners in the bottom of the bag, together with their staff, including j chaplain and doctors, captains, sergeants, and regiments of the line. Then the redouts, walls, barbicans, and entrenchments follow into the bag after the rest, without any neigh- ing of chargers, calls of bugles, blasts of trumpets, or a single murmur from the lips of those vanquished and imprisoned. He again passes through the house with a like precau- tion, again finds the tree, and again buries his treasure beneath its shade. After that, the blind man returns to his room, and gets into bed to dream that his guineas had produced a fertile crop of other guineas, reproductive in their turn so that his fortune had multi- plied no little by means of this portentous increase, even as did the loaves and fishes, in the well-known miracle of sacred times. Oh, I beatific and glorious dreams! • But the Devil never sleeps, and the possessor of evil intentions sleeps very little, as his crooked thoughts keep him awake and vigilant. Somebody must needs scent out the blind man's hoard. And I am not surprised that they did scent it; since there are men for whom money has the perfumes of flowers, and, moreover, rays like the sun, and sweeter music than the violins of angels. I said that somebody scented out the bag and its contents, and I said but little; for this somebody, who must have been a villian of the deepest dye, surprised the blind man in the act of interring it, saw it all from the hiding-place where he was perched and when the owner of the treasure had withdrawn to dream of further increase and future great- ness, the thief emerged from his hiding-place, unearthed the hidden hoard, and decamped more than satisfied with his prize. If I were a painter, now would be the time to distinguish myselt.. I should represent the little yard at night-time, with its unequal mud walls, the hens sleeping on the shafts of a wagon, the well with its stone kerb, and iron cross, the three or four decaying trees, and at the foot of one of them Senor Ambrosio standing near an empty hole, with despair in his heart, and anguish on his face. The nocturnal wind swayed the branches to and fro, and the moon, from between the clouds, peered down upon the little yard, the blind man, and the trees, with an inquisitive and mocking glance. Robbed, yes, robbed of the fruit of long years' toil, robbed of the support of his ap- proaching old age The economy, order, and foresight with which he had ever lived—all in vain Reduced in a moment by another's hand from security to uncertainty, from abundance to scarcity, almost to poverty. Should he begin to save again? It was now too late. Should he put his case into the hands of the law ? The writs would cost him money, and, in the long run, nothing would be found out, as is but too usual. Should he hang himself with the well rope? It would be a crime. Yet he would very willingly have hanged the thief. Poor Senor Ambrosio! Upright and motionless as a statue, he stood there for more than an hour. At last, he filled up the hole as before, and withdrew with slow pace and staggering Sait. Anybody would have thought he was drunk. He went to bed, but not to sleep, for he debated more in that night than an academy of learned men in ten months. The next day he was calm; he said nothing to anybody sometimes he even smiled. In the evening he took part in the dance; he even had the heroism to play the guitar sing a few couplets, and tell some droll stories' If those of the circle had been able to look into his heart, they would have fled aw terrified, like one about to pluck a flower who finds he has touched a viper. A few days passed by; Senor Ambrosio changed his blue stockings tor black ones, his grey trousers for a black pair, his purple sash for a black one in fact, be was black all over as if he had just emerged from a vat of black dye. The gossips wearied him with questions upon this change of garb. At hrst he would give no explanation to these inquisitive f riends, thus increasing their curiosity but upon being interrogated by the parish priest he replied before everybody that a relation of his had died at Saragossa, a childless widower who had made him his heir; and although he was only a distant relation he wished to do honour to the dead man, whose legatee he was, by wearing mourning f0r jjig memory, and committing his soul to God in all his prayers. Upon which, he unpocketed two dollars, and handed them to the priest in payment of masses for his kinsman's soul Half an hour afterwards this was known by the whole village. There coincided with Senor Ambrosio's mourning the setting out of his nephew f Saragossa, mounted on a powerful mule °J" carrying with him a blunderbuss as big'a cannon. Now this nephew was a jfr.S,a chested, sturdy fellow of great and proved pluck, capable of holding his own against half a dozen with a cudgel as his only weation Whither, then, was this valorous y0kel plebeian knight-errant, wending his wav well mounted and armed? To Saragossa every single individual in th^e village knew it' But with what object ? What could it to collect his uncle's heritage, and bring home the dollars ? Besides, with what other obiect would he take the blunderbuss? Ifc clear as daylight, and even if it had not been so, Senor Ambrosio himself did not take the least trouble to conceal it; so that the fetch- ing and earring of the money from the capital to the province was soon an article of faith. The priest, a prudent man, though less astute than the cunning bhnd man, spoke to him one evening m these words "Don't you think, Ambrosio, that this money would be safer deposited at Saragossa with some responsible firm? F0r althS this village, thanks to God who biesseg £ labours, is =ot as auS, S anTSVi, thought cai body's head, and y°u 1^esigfct, and your brave and honourable nephew is fo th most part at work it wht happen that somebo y and even, perhaps, heaven forbid toolc yoq, life/, « Oh, holy father I tha,n1^ you a thousand times for your advice, wic^ is f good and prudent, and arises endship you bear .«! But my ueph< £ b the commission and nts for receiving of the heritage, which win soon be here! B*at if able house in which to P e will put it there. Meanwhile, I with some of my savings in a 4*3 w"! self could not find it. *ou c»a t catch old birds with chaff! A fortnight passed by> and one might Senor Ambrosio's nephew re u rom Saragossa. Plenty of people saw him, powers! the trusty Pea bis blunder- buss slung on his shoulder had not trusted to his own strength alone, but^camezn the com- pany of a pair of civi & • Heayen ancj earth When a man of such courage took so many precautions, !t e„QOU§fh that it was no miserable P1** ° a heritage, but a treasure indeed t was bringing home! This thought, which was more £ haj[ probable, was repeated a upon hundreds and hundreds o t e Allowing day. by all the inhabitants of the piaceg That evening Senor Ambrosio entertained the whole village with chocolate a.nd sugar cakes and large goblets of sour wine. When the striking of the clock announce the hour at which the company generally dispersed, fee pretended to be a little tired and extremely sleepy, took leave of his aQd entered his house, baring and bolting the door securely as was his wont. e■ goto sleep ? No, he went straight to the little yard) hid himself in a corner of it, underneath the wagon and amongst a neap 01 implements, and there, quiet as a mouse, with his ear held to the ground, he remained for a long time with the painful uncertainty of the gambler who has staked his last handful of gold 0Q the last card. Had the rat smelt the cheese ? Was the villian who had robbed him m0re astute than he ? Would a snare so cleverly laid entrap no prep. Sometimes he thought everything was lost; other times he hoped and his heart beat joyfully. And thus the and his heart beat joyfully. And thus the hours passed slowly, very slowly. About midnight he heard a noise of foot- steps, as if somebody were quetly creeping along the other side of the mud wall. Who could it be ? At the other side of the wall was only a deserted blind alley. Suddenly the noise ceased. But in a few minutes, the foot- steps were heard again, no longer without, but in the little yard itself. Some stranger had doubtless scaled the wall. The old man's heart beat as if it would burst; his pupilless eyes opened white and measureless; the supreme moment had arrived. The intruder [ halted at the tree, under the shade of which 1 the treasure had lain; dug up the earth with • all silence possible, and then one could hear him stamping with his feet; then he went away, there was a little pause, and at last Senor Ambrosio heard his footsteps die away in the distance. Like a snake slowly unfolding its coils and raising its head to reconnoitre. Senor Ambrosio extricated himself from his sur- roundings and emerged from his hiding place. With admirable skill, and without stumbling over a single pepple, he slowly advanced, and reached the foot of the tree, clasp-knife in band, like one about to commit a crime. In Spite of all his bravery, he trembled for a moment in painful uncertainty, and felt his legs give way beneath him. But coming to himself immediately, he groped over the re- cently moved earth with his fingers, and be- gan to dig with his knife. Merciful heavens! There was the stolen bag, and to judge by its weight and corpulence it was intact, as big-bellied and beautiful as before covetous hands had dared to profane it. The blind man carried it to his room in his! arms, kissing it like a beloved child, and mad for joy, spread all over his bed the big-wigged guineas, half-guineas, doubloons, columned doLars, and the whole army, as he called it, from the magnificent generals to the multitude of privates. The thief had fallen into the trap, the biter was bit! He had returned the treasure to its ancient hiding place, so that the blind man, not noticing its absence, might also bury there' his new heritage for the villain's further ac- quisition. He had played him a merry trick J and one he certainly deserved for trying to deceive a blind man, when everybody knows that blind men are so crafty as the devil him- self. • While the blind man was counting his re- covered treasure over and over again, the out- witted thief was building castles in the air, and after a few days he thought the time had come to hie him to Senor Ambrosio's yard and carry off the replenished bag. Meanwhile Senor Ambrosio went on as joyful and content as before, and was the soul of merriment at the village dance, with his jokes, his guitar, and his «ongs, the neighbours thinking his ex- cellent humour was well-founded in spite of his mourning, since it is not customary to cry and groan with a full pocket. The days went by, the thief duly made his appearance, and I must tell for greater ex- actitude that it was not a day, but the black- est of nights, that he chose to do his evil deed. You could not see an ox three paces off. With eyes and ears alert, his left hand out- stretched to feel the way, his right in his sash, silent sandals on his wary feet, he advanced until he entered the dark alley, and felt the wall, for the scaling of which the worn sides gave easy footing to anyone, much more so to our friend, who on the scent of money would have wagered to scale a wall of marble with any lizard. In one moment he found himself on the top of the wall, and in another he a- lighted on both feet in the little yard, all with admirable agility and noiselessness. He took the points of the compass and made for the tree, which might well have been called that of the Forbidden Fruit. He scooped away the oarth, and Accursed blind man; the treasure was gone and for a greater derision there was in its stead nothing but a rope, strong, thick, and flexible, with a noose at the end, which seemed to say to the bemockered thief, Hang yourself! Yes, this is what the rope seemed to say in its diabolical language, and this is what the thief understood, who considered himself robbed in his turn; and in the silence of the night he thought he heard a little ironical laugh which made his hair stand on end, and seemed to see two eyes looking at him, sight- less, white, and as large as eggs. His heart failed him, and he felt a cold sweat of anguish break over him as he took the cord in his hand. Staggering like a drunken man, he reached the wall to flee. flee whither ? the two big, white, motionless eyes were always in front of him, fascinating him; that little mock- ing laugh rang in his ears; and running, stumbling, falling, and picking himself up again, he was scarcely able in two hours to reach a distance of twenty rods from the hamlet. What passed within the dark soul debating with itself that gloomy night; through what tragic windings does the human spirit descend to the hell of suicide ? I do not know; nor does anybody else know. But on the next day, which was as clear and luminous as the night had been dark, everybody in the place, big and little, old and young, knew that about two gun- shots from the farthest houses, and one of the first trees in the wood, a man was swinging by a rope with a hand's breadth of tongue hanging out. And this man was not unknown; his name was Uncle Pedro, and he was a relation of the priest.

TORTURE IN YORKSHIRE. The Wakefield Express publishes the extra- ordinary investigation which has followed a local rumour. The wife of a miner, at a village near Wakefield, was being tormented night and day by the most poignant anguish of body and limb, and had been rendered unable to move without aid. The Express reporter hunted up the woman in question—a Mrs. Thompson, of 30, Crossley- street, New Sharlston but she was to all ap- pearance perfectly well and sound, and candidly admitted herself to be so. Further questioning yielded the following details:-About fourteen years ago Mrs. Thompson contracted a severe cold, which rapidly developed into rheumatism of the most acute kind. She was known all over the neighbourhood as one of the greatest sufferers in England. Her hands and arms were so distorted with pain that she was unable to cut a slice of bread. Her appetite failed, and the once buxom young woman became a mere i, shadow, her weight falling off to the extent of three stone. A long course of baths and mineral spring treatment at Buxton, and afterwards at Matlock, proved unavailing. Askern and Har- rowgate were also tried in vain. She returned home in despair, and suffered for many years. But a great change was in store. One day, about two years ago, Mr. Thompson purchased for his wife a box of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People, and from the time she commenced to take these Pills she imme- diately improved. To-day she is in far better health than she has been for the past thirteen years. Xo doubt," says the Wakefield Express, certain people will designate this an advertis- ing puff,' but we can assure our readers, on the authority of our reporter, a journalist of forty years' experience, and on the evidence of many of the residents in Sharlston, that the above statement is literally true and by no means exaggerated. Mrs. Thompson said, 'I feel thankful that I was ever led by the hand of God to t-y this remedy. My appetite has returned, and my weight has gone up from 6 stone 10 lbs. to about 9 stone." I The husband fully confirmed his wife's state- ment. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills are praised amongst all classes as a strengthening and tonic medicine for men, women, and children. Thev are not like other medicine, nor can they be imitated, as is sometimes honestly pretended take care that the package bears the full name, Dr. Williams' Pink Pills tor Pale People, and in case of doubt send direct to Dr. Williams' Medicine Company, 46, Holborn viaduct, London, E.C., as the Pills can be had post free at 2s. 9d., or six boxes for 13s. 9d. They have cured numerous cases of rheumatism, paralysis, locomotor ataxy, sciatica, influeuza, anaemia' palpitations, and the disorders which arise from impoverished blood, such as muscular weakness, loss of appetite, shortness of breath, pain in the back, nervous headache, early decay, and all forms of female weakness.

A German student, wrestling with the English language, is said to have rendered a text as follows :—" The ghost is willing, but the meat is feeble." A STIMULATING, SUSTAINING CUP —Mi\DE INSTANTLY. •A. small spoonful of Cadbury's Cocoa, with •oiling water or milk will make a lar.'o k t T.- N breakfast cup of the most delicious, diges- tible, absolutely pure and nourishing cocoa, of the greatest strength and finest flavour, en- tirely free from any admixture. Pure, wholesale, and cheap, and has no superior is thmnarkei." —Sygitnt, SPECIAL ATTENTION GIVEN TO CEMENTING, PLAIN & ORNAMENTAL PLASTERING, ENCAUSTIC TILING, CONCRETE FLOORING, AT REASONABLE PRICES. Harding, BUILDER, NORTHAMPTON-LANE, SWANSEA. REPAIRS OF ALL KINDS UNDERTAKEN VISIT GEO. DOBERTS, 30, OXFORD-STREET, SWANSEA, FOR ARTISTS' MATERIALS & COLOURS. PICTURES FRAMED AND MOUNTED. HENRY CAVE, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, Has removed from Caer-street (where he carried on business for the last 30 years) to 2, FISHER-STREET, Opposite'Salubrious-passage, Swansea.

CARAUSIUS. THE FIRST SAILOR KING OF EARLY BRITAIN. This hero and guardian of a nation's naval infancy was born of humble parentage down in St. David's, or Menevia, where, in earliest childhood, his thoughts and longings gained inspiration from the roar of the ocean waves that surged and dashed against the rock- bound shores and gloomy cliffs of wild West Wales. For him the sea held secrets and promised great things, and ever sang of freedom, success, honour, power and king- craft. Its curling wavelets beckoned him away-away from the desolate Welsh coast to scenes of piratical excitement and the enthusiasm of sea warfare. Its long, white- crested rollers urged him to follow their hoarsely roaring voices, and become either their willing slave or yielding master. Some times, in the darkling evenings and the purple or fog-laden twilights of the mysterious long ago, the- boy listened to witching stories from the stern lips of veteran and bold sea captains who frequented the British coasts, and they set him yearning to share their calling. At last, encouraged by those hardy men who had to stem the wildest tides and encounter the terrible hordes of sea-rovers and robbers, the boy was tempted away from the holy neigbourhood of Menevia to distant Batavia, then the nursery and naval school of sailors. There Carausius remained until his education was completed, when he entered the service, and received commendation successively from the Emperors Probus, Carus, and Carinus. In the reign of Maximinian, when the Saxons began to make marauding incursions on the coast of the North Sea, Carausius appeared as the skilled commander of the fleet stationed at Boulogne to prevent the ravages of the Teutonic sea-kings who made their names a terror to the defenceless and disheartened inhabitants of Britain. It was in his great sea battles this distinguished commander gained the wealth and fame which made him a rival of Diocletian the Great. While holding this important and arduous position all the excellent qualities of Carausius were brought into exercise. But, as it frequently happens with well-earned reputation, its heroic possessor found enemies where previously only friends existed. The Emperor Maximinian, grown jealous of the great and powerful admiral, sent orders to put him to death. Then the skill, foresight and energy of the brave commander were put to the test. He grasped the situation at once he knew the value of his services to his imperial masters he felt sure his influence over his comrades was supreme. Then the old dreams of kingcraft revived, grew strong, and, determined to make the visions of his youth the reality of his manhood, Carausius, at the head of his whole fleet, and taking with him the fourth legion, left Boulogne for Britain. Once there, it was the easiest possible matter to win his countrymen to his standard, and, soon after landing he declared himself emperor of the island. Under the title of Valerius Carausius, the boy of Menevia and admiral of Britain, defied I Maximinian, and for eight years reigned as monarch of his native land. Judging from the coinage and medals of his reign, his career as an island emperor must have been almost unequalled for wealth, taste, and splendour. Maximinian endeavoured to quell the "rebellion," as it was called, but before the veteran and experienced adherents of Carausius the Roman seamen quailed. Some authorities believe that Maximinian was taken prisoner, but was released upon condition that Carausius, with the title of emperor, should hold the sovreignty of Britain. Henceforth this heroic emperor successfully defended his native land against the barbarians of the north, and still had time to carry out magnificent works of public splendour and utility. Anticipating the future maritime power of Britain, Carausius set his fleet to rule the waves." From the North Sea to the Bay of Biscay, from the Rhine to the Straits of Gibraltar, he swept the seas, and not a vessel dared approach Britain on any side without his permission. During the eight years that he wore the imperial purple, Carausius was beloved, and yet to a certain extent was feared by his Subjects. The yearning and longings of his boyhood were realized; the freedom came soon. Success speedily followed; honours were showered upon him, and his power was acknowledged as unrivalled on the seas. Then came the skill of kingcraft; the dignity and magnificence of imperial sway,the proud pleasure of national approbation, the joy of making his countrymen happy under the control of their native emperor, and then -this great and good wearer of the royal purple became the victim of treason and murder. In the old dreams of the long ago the brave boy of Menevia never saw the masked face of the assassin lurking behind the throne, or the sharpened and glittering axe concealed among the foldings of the imperial purple. The faith and trust of childhood ripened into the confidence and friendship of manhood, and in Alectus, his chief Minister, Carausius found his traitor and assassin. Alectus, seizing an opportunity at York, murdered his master and assumed the crown, but was speedily dispossessed by Constantius Chlorus Caesar, and soon after- wards the traitor was slain. Thus, in in A. D. 296, Britain once more fell under the yoke of the Romans. Carausius, whose name will ever live in the annals of his country as the first naval commander who gave prestige to the maritime power of Britain and made the island of his birth the mistress of the seas, fell in the prime of life, before his noble plans were fully matured. Yet, though long ages have passed away wherever the British fleet sails proudly along the seas, the honoured memory of Carausius deserves recognition as the founder of Britain's Navy in the third century.— From The Land of Arthur, by Marie Trevelyan.

HOME. By LADY COOK, nee TENNESSEE CLAFLIN.] I Our subject is a trite and well-worn one, yet it never wearies and never grows stale. In the hearts of the English race, perhaps above all others, the word home, among those who have felt its real meaning, is associated with whatever is sweetest and purest in life. We think of home as the seat of all gentle influences; peace, love, happiness, and un- selfish delights. The poets have never tired of singing its praises, and one of them has told us in homely but pathetie verse, that 11 Be it ever so humble there's no place like home." To have one's home broken up, to lose or to be without a home, are each significant of the greatest misery that can happpen. rhese extort the profoundest pity. When Long- fellow writes of the burning of Grand-Pre, he said of its people, Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city." When, however, he pictures the innocent and happy Evangeline returning from church, he says:— Homeward serenely she walked, with God's benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. James Russell Lowell also wrote at much greater length on the same subject, The Forlorn." It is a dark and bitter night of stinging sleet, and One poor beart-broken outcast girl Faces the east wind's searching flaws. Beneath the window of a warm and cosy home, She hears a woman's voice within Singing sweet words her childhood knew, And years of misery and sin Furl off, and leave her heaven blue. With the song old times and old thoughts return to the dying woman: Enhaloed by a mild, warm glow, I From all hnmaoity apart, She hears old footsteps Wandering slow Through the lone chambers of her heart. And when, next morning, from sin and sorrow free, a woman on the threshold lay," Lowell beautifully moralises on the power of that hitherto forgotten music of her child- hood, which has cleansed the soul of the perishing outcast, and doth not scorn To close the lids upon the eyes Of the polluted and forlorn. The slave in his dreams thinks of home, and sees his dark-eyed queen among her children stand." The exile from Erin asks- Where is my cabin-door fast by the wood? Where is the mother that looked on my childhood ? The soldier sleeping on the battlefield flies to the pleasant fields traversed so oft in life's morning march when his bosom was young." Our late Laureate makes the bold Sir Bedivere say to his dying Prince :— Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go ? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes ? For now I see the true old times are dead. Wlien every morning bronght a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. <= But now the whole Bound Table is dissolved, Wbich was an image of the mighty world; And I, the last go forth companion less, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds. A home is the place where those who love meet together in private communion; the place where they can unbend and be at ease among those who are dearest to them. Horne Tooke tells that the word is the past participle of the Anglo-Saxon verb hseman," to come together. But, as we have seen, we have invested it with a thousand tender associations, which make it a symbol of domestic felicity. Yet in every social sphere we may find that there are thousands of houses which are only 1 homes in name, all the elements of unity and harmony being absent. And when we con- sider how sacred and far-reaching in its con- sequences is a well-conducted household, how vast the moral influence it exercises from youth to age, we cannot doubt that a purity and welfare of the humblest home is a matter of national importance. Splendid or simple, each is a powerful unit for good or evil, a sound or rotten brick in the whole social edifice. It becomes necessary, therefore, if we would be prosperous as a nation, and have a wholesome future, that particular regard should be given to our own homes, and suit- able measures provided to secure the homes of the poor. We may pity those who from recklessness or wilful misconduct destroy their own domes- tic peace, who ruin their own lives and those of their children, yet we cannot give them our sympathy. We may feel for them, but not with them. But we must both pity and sympathise with the children of misfortune and with all who are deprived of the comforts of a home through the unavoidable accidents of life. What, then, should be our feelings for those who never knew one, who came into the world enveloped by misery and depravity, who were nutured in crime, bred in ignorance, idleness, and filthy surroundings, and taught to live viciously as others are virtuously ? How can words express the pity which should be felt for these? And what do we do for them? Nothing, absolutely nothing, unless it be to punish them for their environment. And, indeed, it is difficult to know what steps should be taken with the helplessly destitute and with the hardened and irreclaimable offenders. Every town and almost every village has its quota of such. Great cities swarm with them, and their evil influence is felt in every corner of the kingdom. In London, it is said, there are from one to two hundred thousand persons who never know in the morning where they will lay them down at night. And this is not the whole of the evil. The honest working poor whose two great difficulties are a sufficiency of remunerative labour and decent home accommodation at a moderate rent, are often thrown by the stress of poverty into unwilling contact with the criminal classes. The moral consequences are deplorable. Homes which should be clean* wholesome and permanent, are squalid fetid, and precarious. The labour difficulty is insuperable and must be left to the natural operation of economic laws. It is futile to attempt to create labour by forced or artificial means, for this would eventually intensify the evil. But one great work can be done, and should be done without delay. Public authorities should be invested with ample powers to sweep away foul tenements, to acquire necessary sites by compulsion, and to erect a sufficiency of healthy and suitable accommodation for the labouring classes at the lowest possible rates-say at a clear three per cent, on the total cost. e require far more stringent provisions than any that exist against the overcrowding and the cupidity of owners of insanitary tenements. Forfeiture of their property after repeated offence would not be too great a punishment for these gentry. They have contaminated the com- munity, morally and physically, long enough. The poor pass their lives in a stern school, and are as conscious of their faults as the rich are of theirs -perhaps more so. They do not require to be preached to, or at, any more than others. District visitors, tracts, teetotal lecturers and charities, small or great, will not save them. They want dwellings here the decencies of life can be observed where domestic comfort is possible, where cleanliness, cheerfulness, sobriety, and morality may find a place-in a word, they want homes.

SWANSEA POLICE COURT. SATURDAY. [Before J. G. Hall, W. Walters, aad D. Owen, Esqrs.] DISORDERLIES. — Elizabeth Jane Thomas, married, 13, Quarry-street, was fined 5s. and costs, for drunken and disorderly conduct in Bellevue-street on Friday night. The case was proved by P.C. Evans (64).-A fine of 5s. inclusive was imposed upon Agnes Webb, 1, Waun Wen-road, for drunkenness in Wind- street, on July 25th. COUNTY BUSINESS. INSUFFICIENT LIGHTS. — Thomas Lewis, haulier, Pontardulais; Nathaniel Robbin, Pontardulais and Thomas Harris, Swansea, were summoned for a breach of the county bye-law necessitating two lights to vehicles. The last-named defendant, who had no lights at all, was fined 15s., and the other two 10s. each. A WOUNDING CASE.—William Davies, farm labourer, Ynis Farm, Clydach, was summoned for wounding John Owen, collier, Llansamlet, by striking him on the head with a. hay-fork on July Slat—Complainant said he and & companion went into a field to gather mush- rooms. Defendant was working in the field, and when he saw complainant and his com- panion, he ran towards them. They ran into the road, whence they were followed by de- fendant, who then committed the assault. He assaulted the two men. Complainant became unconscious, and was ultimately taken home, where he was attended by Dr. Jones, Clydach. —By defendant: He did not throw stones at him.-Evidence for the defence was called to shew that the assault was committed under provocation.—Defendant was fined 20s, or 14 days. TUESDAY. [Before his Worship the Mayor (Aldermaji Bradford), J. Coke Fowler (Stipendiary), and J. G. Hall, Esqrs.] ASSAULT.-Alfred and Edith Stroud, hus- band and wife, of Cae-Bricks-road, Cwmbwrla, were summoned for assaulting Edith George on July 25th. The assault was alleged to have been committed because complainant would not pay money which it was stated she owed the defendants. They were each fined 5s. DISORDERLIES. — Richard Christensen, a native of Denmark, was fined 7s. 6d. for drunken and disorderly conduct on Monday. —For a similar offence, a woman named Ellen Johnson was fined 7s. 6d. or 14 days a man named John Williams also 7s. 6d., another named David Davies, boiler maker, 7s. 6d., and Mary Ann Bumsted, a woman of ill-repute, who was charged also with smashing glass, 12s. 9d. in all.-Susan Hearn, widow, 5, Green- hill-street, was fined 7s. 6d. for assaulting P.C. Protheroe. A BRUTAL ASSAULT. John Casey, 22, Emma-street, fireman, was charged with assaultingand unlawfully wounding Catherine Sullivan, on August 3rd. Prisoner was the prosecutrix's son-in-law, and she was living with him. She gave evidence of the assault, as a result of which her arm was broken. In defence, prisoner said prosecutrix had tormented him beyond endurance.-He was fined 40s., or 14 days. HUSBAND AND WIFE.-Leeson Beedham Barlow, a contractor, applied for the discharge of an order by which he was adjudged to have deserted his wife, and ordered to pay XI a week towards the maintainance of Sarah Ann Barlow. Mr. Viner Leeder appeared for the applicant, and the wife on this occasion was unrepresented, and not present. She had sent word saying that her chest was bad. The medical certificate did not, however, say she was unable to attend, and the bench decided to hear several witnesses who had been sent from Derbyshire. The case has excited some interest owing to the extra- ordinary evidence given at the former hear- ing, it being alleged that the woman had lived with another man, and that the husband had re-married. The husband and John Mildman, hairdresser, of Meecham; Alexander Meaden, publican, of Meecham; and Thomas Blaike, relieving officer in the Ashby-de-la- Zouch Union, gave evidence, which was to the effect that while at Meecham the woman lived with a pianist, named Harry Stemdall, with two children, and that with Stemdall she, as his wife, was given parish relief. George Thomas Reddich, headmaster of the National School at Meecham, spoke to Mrs. Barlow taking two children to his school and giving her name as Mrs. Stemdall, and the children's as Harry and Sybil Violet respect- ively. At this stage Mr. Leeder said the applicant did not wish to take any unfair advantage of the woman, and he therefore suggested that the witnesses from a distance having been heard, the case should be adjourned to enable the wife to attend and give rebutting evidence if she felt inclined.- The Stipendiary said there was a strong presumption against the woman, but he would adjourn the case for a week. ASSAULT.-A case in which Edward Davies, described as a blacksmith, of Oxford-street, was summoned for assaulting a boy named Sidney Parker, aged 10, was dismissed, the case being a very trifling one. ABUSIVE LANGUAGE. — Hannah Pearson, Dana place, was fined 10/ inclusive for abusive language towards Lucy Walters. WEDNESDAY. [Before Messrs. J. G. Hall, W. Walters, and D. Owen.] DRUNKENNESS.—Martha Davies, no fixed abode, had to pay 10s. and costs or go down for 14 days for being drunk in High-street.— Jane Evans, married, Strand, was fined 5s. and costs, or seven days, for being drunk and dis- orderly in Bethesda-street.—Mary Mead no fixed abode, had to pay 5s. and costs' or undergo seven days' imprisonment, for being drunk and disorderly in High-street; and Mary Guthrie, married, 10, Tontine-street, was similarly dealt with for like conduct in Tontme-street.-All the offences took place on the 4th. TRUANT SCHOOL ARREARs.-George Barnett, haulier, 18, Waunwen-road; Wm. Watkins, painter, 12, Colbourne-terrace; and Jacob Bowman, labourer, 5, Cuba-road, each had orders made against them for the payment of arrears due to the' maintenance of their children in the truant school. COUNTY BUSINESS. HIGHWAY OFFENCES.—George Bevan, driver Swansea, had to pay 15s. for being drunk in charge of a horse and cab at the Mumbles on July 22nd.—Henry Thomas, driver, Swansea, was ordered to part with a similar sum for S lghts at Skett7 on July 22nd and William Beynon, grocer, Swansea, had to paytJ« m I1! g a bi°ycle on the footbath mL M,™les'">ad'on 23ri ncTPrl mo ^T .ENaNCE.—Lewis Grey, amiddle- ■l? J1' Bnton Ferry, was summoned by e ^ar*a f°r disobeying a maintenance order made in 1894 at the rate of 12s. per w„ee,, Defendant said it was in consequence ot illness that he had not paid. —The magis- trates, finding that the defendant had no furniture to distrain on, and believing that he had not attempted to pay the money, sent him to gaol for six weeks with hard labour. DEAF AND DUMB.—James Douglas, 26, blacksmith, of no fixed abode, was summoned for being drunk and disorderly at Llansamlet on August 4th, and doing wilful damage to a window belonging to John Davies, at Llan- samlet.-He was fined 5s. and costs for the first offence, and the second one was not dealt with. GAMING.—John Mann, 20, groom, Swansea, was fined 10s. for gaming with dice at the Mumbles on August 3rd. » —

She—"Why is it American women are so more attractive to foreigners with titles than Englsh people are ? He-" Because they have more dollars and less sense." A Friend—"If you love her, old fellow, whv don't you marry her ?" Bachelor Doctor— Marry her ? Why, she is one of my best patients."

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