The Cardiff Times

Hugh Owen a flodeuodd,—a'i anwyl Rieni a swynodd A Hugh Owen a wywodd, A'u hoff ffawd hwythau a ffodd. Am Hugh Owen bydd mwyach—gyfodiad Gofidiau yn amlach, Ond y bedd gyda Hugh bach Aalwant yn an wylaoh. Hal huno wnaetb Hugh Owen—yn Iesu, Dan ei rasol a den Cysga ef, nes oa.' wisg wen I eilfyd yn ei elfen. Hugh Owen, cyn gweled gwaeau—einioes, A hunodd yn forau Aeth yn ir i hir fwynhau Y nef wlad yn ei flodau. Riaint anwyl, na wi lwch,—Hugh Owen Sy'n gloewi mewn tegwch A Hugh anwyl yr unweh,—cyn bo hir, Yn y nef frodir, mewn llawn hyfrydweh. TWTNOG JEFFRKTS.

— WELSH MARTYRS. I A Brief History of the Sufferings and Triumphs of TVelsh Nonconformists under the Reigns of the Stuarts and the Georges. [BY THE lUW. EDWARD DAVIES.I CHAPTER XX, 4 An eminent Prelate of the Church of England, Bishop Burnet, writing in 1713, some years before Methodism appeared, says, "I cannot leok on without the deepest concern, v. hen I see the immi- nent ruin hanging over the Church, and, by con- sequence, over the whole Reformation. The out- ward s ate of things is black enough, God knows but that which heightens my fears rises chiefly from the inward slate into which we are unhappily fallen. I will, in examining this, confine myself to the clergy, The much greater part of those who come to be ordained are ignorant to a degree not to be appre- hended by those who are not obliged to know it. The easiest part of knowledge is that to which they are the greatest strangers I mean, the plainest part of the Scriptures, w.hich they say, iu excuse for their ignorance, that their tutors in the universities never mention the reading ef them to them, so that they f-angive no account, or at least, a very imperfect one, of the contents even of the Gospels. Those who have read some few books, yet never seem to have read the Scriptures, cry and think it a sad disgrace to be denied orders, though the ignoronce of some is such that, in a well-regulated state of things they would appear not knowing enough to be .admitted to the holy sacrament. They think it a great hardship if they are told they must know the scriptures and the body of divinity better before they can be en- trnsted with the care of souls. Thpse things pierce one's soul. What are we likely to grow to ? In what a case are we to deal with any adversary, Atheist, Papist, or Dissenters, when so gross an igiroranoe, in the fundamentals of religion, has spread itself so nloch among those who ought to teach others, and yet need that one teach them the first principles of the oracles of God ?" Those who might wish to know the above opinion of Bishop Burnet in his work on "Pastoral Care." might read that and judge for themselves. The "Pastoral Letters" of Bishop Gibson, pub- lished in 1728, prove the sad condition of all classes in relation to religion. Orthodox Dissenters living about that period, testify that religion was then in a very low state. Dr. John Guyse, in a sermon published in 1729, said," The greatest number of preachers and hearers seem contented to lay Christ aside. His name is seldom heard of in conversation, unless in a way of strife and debate; or which is infinitely worse, in a way of contempt, reproach, and blasphemy." Similar to the above was the testimony of Dr Watts, published about that time. Southey, in his" Cólloquies," said of the time when Methodism began its refoming career, "It was a time of great degeneracy. The manners of high life Were not indeed so absolutely profligate as in the infamous days of Charles fl., but there was a general coarsenes?. Drtnkenness had be- come as much a national vice tmong the gentry as it was among the Germans. Considering the Universities as schools of moials, the course of life therte was better adapted >o graduate young men in the brutalizing habiti of the society, wherewith they were soon to mingle, than to qualify them for reforming it. The Church, therefore, was ill-supplied with ministers its high preferments were bestowed with more reference to politioal connexions than to individual desert and there never was less religbus feeling, either within the Establishment or without, than when Wesley blew his trumpet and avakened those who slept." Southey, as all intelligent nen know, was a vêrý zealous Churchman. Macaulay says that he was a violent Ultra-Tory.' He also says of him that "he spoke with th- greatest disgust of the respect paid to public opinion. He said that; the duties of a ruler are patriarchal and pa- ternal. He ought to consider tie moral discipline of the people as his first object, to establish a re. ligion, to train the whole community in that religion, and to consider all Dissenters as his own enemies. We do not very well know what Mr Southey's opinion about toleration is. But on the whole, we take it to be this, that everybody is to tolerate him, and that be is to tolerate nobody. He foretold, on the very eve jf the abolition of the Test and Corporation Acts, that these hateful laws were immortat. When we find that such a lover of the Estab- lished Cb arch as Southey, describing it, in the above extract from his" Colloquies," as one whose bishops and clergy were in a very irreligious con- dition, when "Westey blew his trumpet," and Rowlands and Harris gave existence to Cal- vamstic Methodism in Wales, no one could wonder at the persecutions which the Metbodista endured from such bishops and clergy. 'The Rev, David Jones, the rector of Llangan- a small parish situated between1 Bridgend and Cowbridge-was one of the most prominent and leading ministers among the Calvinistic Metho- dists during the reign of George III. He ob. tained the living through the influence of Lady Huntington. He was born in Carmarthenshire in the year 1735, a little before the Methodistical Reformation began. He was'religionsly educated. When he was a child his father designed him to be a farmer, but happening to fall into a pan of boiling milk, he was so scalded and weakened that his father resolved on making a parson of him He received collegiate education in Car- marthen. He was ordained to the curacy of Llanafan Fawr, Breconshire, when he was about 23 years old. He soon moved from that; place to Lleyn, Caernarvonshire. He was not there long, for we find that he was serving the parishes of Trevethin and Caldicot, Monmouthshire, in 1760, wheu he was 25 years old. Trevethin is near Pontypool. It was while he served the church in that district that he had saving impressions from the truths of the gospel, by reading the works of Fl-ivel. The effect was visible at once in all he said and did. His sermons became full of warmth and energy. His hearers became alarmed respecting their state between them and God. Tney dreaded his eternal wrath as their inheritance in the next world, as that wrath is set forth in the Bible Crowds flocked to hear the young curate, because there was the freshness of religious life in his ministry. But the Rector who had engaged his services became angry with him for the earnest ptety whIch characterIsed his conduct apd his ministry. He soon showed Mr Jones that he could put an end to his ministrations in his phurches. The Rector could not endure anything in his rectorial vineyard beyond a lifeless, cold, freezing, ceremonialism. To prepare people for heaven, by leading them to believe in Christ and to be renewed characters, was a matter which roused his bitterest hostility. Mr Jones had to quit the locality. He went to a place near Bristol, and afterwards to a parish in Wiltshire. He was thus forced to itine- vate from church to church, owing to a form of persecution which was carried on within the church against earnest evangelical ministers. But "birds,of a feather will flock together." Lady Huntington, and Lady Charlotte Edwin, the proprietress of the living of Llangan, became acquainted with Mr Jones, and he was put in possession of that living in 1768, when he was 33 years old. There, he was to a great extent, his own master. An ungodly rector could not turn him out ef his living, for he was not an humble enrate. He there commenced a life of such ún. portant service, for Gad and for the eouls of men, in connection with the Methodist Reformation in Wales, that will keep his name in grateful remem- brance to tfae last dfty of time.. In his new sphere of activity he was surrounded by an arid wilder- nessGf immorality and irreligion. Calvanistic Me- thodism Shad [slightly < a penetrated i.to the region some years before. But a blizhtiug dispute between Harris Treveccaand Rowlands, Llangeitho,which lasted some time, put a stop to the evanirelistio mission, which had commenced and succeeded in an extraordinary manner, between 20 and 30 years before Mr Jones commenced his labours at LIangan. The small flocks of God-fearing men, in various places, had been left to take their ehanoes. The schism be- tween the leaders of Methodism was occasioned by differences of opinion on points of doctrine.^ This difference was serious, because Mr Harris, had been entrusted with the care of all the Methodist flocks that had been collected together throughout Wales.He was, in fact. the presiding genius ofMethodistical activity throughout the Princi. pality. About the time Mr Jones began his Ministry in Llangan, Lady Huntington opened her college to prepare young men for the ministry in Tre- vecca. This occurred Aug. 24th. 1768, on the birthday of Lady Huntington. Whitefield preached in Trevecca on the occasion, from Exodus xx. 24. In the anniversary of that opening, in the followingvear,Rowlands Llangeitho nreached there from Luke xiii, 23. Wesley and Fletcher, of Madeley, were there. Lady Hunting- ton, Lady Anne Erskine, and other distinguished persons were present. It is quite evident that the. breach between the brethren had been filled v ith love. Harris died a few years after that meeting. Mr Jones, in Llangan, was surrounded by very irreligious clergymen, who even led the people around them info courses of action quite incon- sistent wit the fear of God. One of the poet's of that neighbourhood described them as follows :— Y'ffelriad ffol uffernol, Siwd aeliub hwd ei bobol, ;l f Sy'n methu eadw dy<M o saith, Heb ddilyn gwaith o disfol." Sir Jones had adimoult task. surrounded as he was by clert"7 of the above stamp. But he had many excellencies T"hich would render his success probable. He had a verv- ^active and gentle- manly appearance. He'had a }~rica. common-sense he was affable, meek, »;B(i in spirit and action he had a melodious vo.\T?; and he wassingularly evangelical in his preaching. He was called 11 the evangelist of Llaagan." But clerical and mob persecutions would have to put its fangs in him. When he was once preaching n?ar Ruthin,' from John vii. 46, 'Never man spake like this man," a number of ruffians, headed by a butcher, went to the place where he preached, in order to disturb the meet- ing, The butcher, who was a strong powerful man, after listening a little to Mr Jones, shouted in a vulgar way, that never a man spake like Mr Jones, He said, I never saw a man before who, was able to master me fairly." The disturbers listened as attentively as any body in the meeting. Though Mr Jones was a clergyman in the Estab- lished Church, he often went over the bounds of the canon laws, in order to make known the gospel to his fellow men for their eternal salva- tion. He would preach in the opeu air, on a block, or anywhere, in the midst of gidy throngs, in vanity fairs, as well as in consecrated edifices. He went to Peterston, about five miles from Llangan, into an annual vanity fair on the Sabbath called Wake. Hundreds of youths from the surrounding neighbourhoods went] there every year to indulge themselves in UIl- bridled jollity, drinking, fighting, and to sink themselves into beastly immoralities. Mr Jones preached in the church against such abominations. But that waa not sufficient. He went into the midst of the immoral throngs on the day of the wake. He preached Christ to them with such effeot that the wicked festival withsred, and it WM th* last vanity fed; or woke held there on the V Sabbath. In order to prevent it Mr Jones went to the place to hold a preaching meeting on the anniversary of the wake, every year for thirty y.rs successively. :Mr Jones not only preached, but encouraged every worthy movement for the good of mankind in relation to education, &c. When the London Missionary Sociaty was formed he was one of the first to patronise it. He was selected to preach the sermon on its second anniversary in London, May 13, 1796. His t-ermon was highly praised, and appeared in the first volume of the "Mis- sionary Sermo&u." He collected much money in England towards the eivction of Calvinistic Methodist chapels in Wales. He had the chief hand in the erection of Salem Chapel, Pencoed, near Bridgend, and within three miles of Uangan. This is one of the first chapels erected by the Methodists in Glamorganshire. Mr Jones was much attached to this chapel. He buried his beloved wife close to this chapel. He was in the habit of preaching on Sunday at 10 in the morning at Hangau Church, and at two in the afternoon in Peucoed Chapel. In this chapel he held his weekly experi- mental societies, which were attended by ouly the members of the connexion. He held in that chapel a preparatory meeting on Saturday at one p.m. each month before the monthly communion Sunday. The preparatory meet- ings were very popjilar. Many attended them from distant places. Several preacher", besides Mr Jones, attended them. The people who attended from distances were accommodated with lodgings on Saturday night by the kindness of the inhabitants in the neighbourhood. All were thus prepared to enjoy the Gospel feast on Sunday morning. Thepieacliers who had come to the meeting on Saturday delivered sermons early on Sunday morning to the people, before the Communion Service began in Llangan Church. That church, on such occasions, was much too small. The throngs went towards home from the feast full of the spirit of worship and the fear of God. They rejoiced along the road in a:spirit of blissful ecstacy. It might have been expected that a good minister, such as Mr Jones, would have made the authorities of the Church of England proud of him. as an honour to their institution. But those authorities were too much interested in'.tlie continu- ance of the corruptions of the Church even to allow Mr Jones to proceed in his evangelical labours unmolested. Dr Barrington, the then Bishop of Llandaff, received complaints continually from clergymen and others, it appears, against Mr Joues. He disturbed their ecclesiastical slumbers. He caused people to make unfavour- able comments on them as inefficient pastors, compared with him. Their freezing formalities kept people out of their churches in the neighbourhoods, where throngs flocked to hear him. Envy and jealousy, arising out of their ungodly state of mind, poured their venom against Mr Jones into the ears of the Llandaff prelate. And instead of calling the indolent clergmen to account for their religious apathy, the bishop called Mr Jones to acfiount, for his evangelical zeal. He summoned him into his presence, when the following conversation took place :— The Bishop I am sorry, Mr Jones, that com- plaints against you have come to me. They say that you are preaching in unconsecrated places." Mr Jones: No, never, my lord. When the Son of God put his foot on the earth lie con- secrated every inch of it. Had he not done so, I fear that no consecration made by your lordship would have been worth anything in the world." The good sense of the bishop induced him to approve the scriptural and logical remarks of Mr Jones. They were, in fact, unanswerable. The enemies of the gospel were chagrined to witness Mr Jones walking arm-in-arm with the bishop, and conversing in a friendly manner with each other. Bishop Watson, the successor of Dr. Barrington in the See of Llandaff, was no sooner seated with- in his domain than the enemies of Mr Jones renewed their complaints against him in the episcopal palace. Neither Bible nor logic had any power over corrupt irreligious clergymen. Dr. Watson was at nrst determined to put an end to what was misnamed the irregularity of Mr Jones in going to preach out of his own parish. The bishop met Mr Jones in Cowbridge, when the following conversation took rplace between them :— Bishop "You must keep within your parish, Jones at least until you have a foundation to be- lieve that all your parishioners have turned into the Lord." Mr Joaee: "I cannot help paying attention, my tord, to the importunate calls from places where the people perish for the lack of knowledge, and the clergy neglect their work." ■Bishop]: If so, I must ose means to stop you," Mr Jones "You may do that, my lord, but I cannot change my resolution." The bishop was taken aback by the cool, manly reply of Mr Jones, given with such gentlemanli- ness, meekness, and humility, as a Christian min- ister, like Mr Jones, would exhibit. Bishop: Have you a family, Mr Jones? Mr Jones: "Yes, my lord; I have a wife and three children." Bishop Well," said the prelate, in a voice of ) tenderness, I cannot in any way in the world think of injuring you, but the clergy of the parish of P——h and Pf are so much against you. Will you do this at my request?—Do not go iuto their parishes." Mr Jones "My Lord, I will comply with your request." The Risbon felt simply as a man. He showed that he knew next to nothing of the instructions of the Bible., His rule, that Mr Jones should not move out of his parish until he had reason to believe that all his parishioners had turned unto the Lord, was quite contrary to the Word of God, from Genesis to Revelations. Our Lord did not confine his ministry to Galilee or Judea, until all the people in either of those localities, bad turned unto the Lord. All the districts of Palestine were full of wicked people when he died on the croas, after he had been preaching among them for three years and a half. The apostles did not confine their labours to Judea until all there had been converted. If they had, the gospel would never have reached the British Isles. The rule of the bishop is also ultra leges. The canon laws of the Church never acknowledge that a clercvmau may go out of his parish to preach, after he has converted all the inhabitants of his parish. Pesides, he ia to remain at his post to feed his flock after he has known that they ate all sheep. The division of the land into parishes, moreover, is the arbitrary work of .human beings. It is not prescribed in the Bible. The words "parish and "diocese are not there. As the learned Dean of West- minster baa said in his "characteristics of the Papacy." The early customs of the Church had a secular origin. The first Church was a basilica, not a ternple, bnt a Roman court of justice, accommodated to the purposes of Christ- ian worship. The word bishop, epis- copus, was taken, pot from any usage of the temple or of the synagogue, but from the officers of the different subject towns of Athens; borrowed, as Hooker says, from the Grecians. The word ordo (our holy orders), was the name of the municipal senate of the empire. The word ordinatio as never used by the Romans for religious ceremonies the word and idea of a diocese was taken from the existing divisions of the empire. Of all these Christian usages of ) secular and Pagan origin, the Pope is the most remarkable example. The learned Dean Stanley, of Westminster, proves his statements iu an interesting manner. Our Lord's commission to hit apostles anl to his church in all ages is "JGo. ye into all tire world, and preach the gospel to ev ry creature." No one is confined in his commission to a diocese or parish. And nothing: could prove the religious degeneracy of the Church of Ei g'ar.d, nere;than the language of the Bishop of Llandaff to Mr Jones, Llangan. Mr Jones lived usefully to a good old age. He lived to see the Calvinistic Methodist body such a large connexion, that it threw on one side the leading strings of the Established Church. He died September 12th, 1810, in his 75th year. He entered into the Joy of his Lord triumphantly. In nothing but in religion would mankind have ] endured incapable men, such as the clergy of the Church of England, to claim a monopoly of the duties belonging to their positions, totally inde- 1 pendent of the fearful consequences of soch a t monopoly. The Christianity of the Bible, evi- dently, is a system to save men's souls from falling into eternal perdition. And as the bulk of the clergy have proved themselves to be ignorant and incapable quacks, in the remedial business of raising men from the malady nf sin into eternal health, the value of immortal souls, ad the love to one's neighbour which the moral law demands, impose an obligation r upon every awakened Christian, to make every possible effort, to leadlliiB fellow men to Heaven, whether human canon laws are in his way or not. It is an impudent and wicked course of fo? rr.rn stand between the lost sheep and the Good Shepherd, who lani His life on the cross to save the lost sheep. and do their utmost to prevent U.e Good Shepherd to secure His merciful pni pose, after makinsr such a sacrifice to pain it. But irreligious clerics do that to preserve a mere humau territorial arrangement of no imaginable advantage to anybody, but liimply to gratify the ambition of those clerics, who make their pecuniary advantage the only interest which mankind should respect. The element of idolatry is in such an audacity, for it lifts man and his teuipor.il- interests above God and His infinite claims and high purposes. All mere human forms and laws should hide their diminished heads when the glory of He even's throne comes to view iu the scheme of Christian redemption. 4_

FATAL ACCIDENT AT CARDIFF On Frid y evening, a lad named Fiederick Patrick Doyle, nine years of age, residing in Tyndall-street. wandered through the level cross- ] ing on to the Great Western Railway. At that time a goods train was brought to a stand near the crosbiog, and the lad got on one of the truck JjW'titars, The engine soon afteru ards moved back- wards :ud pushed the train against some I stationary tri.^M crushing the lad fearfully. He was conveyed to tuj Iflfirmaiy, where he died on Saturday evening.

THE LATE M It LEYSiiON OF CARDIFF, Mr Leyshon, one of the oldest officials on the Taff Vale Railway, died very suddenly at his resi- dence, Cogan, on Friday. Mr Leyshon has been connected with the Taff Vale Railway for many years, and has been traffic manager at Penarth for 12 years. He was a member of the Penarth Local Board, and on the retirement of Mr R. Forrest from the chairmanship of the board being made i known, it was resolved, on Thursday, to appoint Mr Leyshon the chairman at the next meeting, j Mr Leyshon appeared in bis usual health on rhursday, but complained of cold in the evening, 1 and could not attend the meeting. He retired to 4 rest about 10 o'clock, and died early on Friday e morning. He w as very much respected in Penarth Mid the neighbourhood. (

It has been decided to oontest East Cheshire in I ( the Liberal interest. 2 On Thursday, writes the Paris correspondent of I the Tirnx, a terrible fire broke out at Montai- ( mont, a village in Savoy, resulting In the death of I J 11 persons aud the destruction oi 81 dwellings, I

ELECTORAL NOTES. INSIDE THE CARDIFF TOWN.HALL ASSEMBLY ROOM. When the process of the preliminary counting of votes was going on inside the Town Hall Assembly Room, the two candidates were passing backward and forward among their agents, both no doubt very anxious as to the result of their long and unwearied exertions. The countenances of the two men formed a study for the physiognomist. Mr Guest seemed animated by the boisterous spirits and confident bearing of his friend Mr Grogan, and his face wore a constant smile, rather sickly, perhaps, and forced, but still it was a smile. Mr Reed, on the contrary, was apparently not so over-confident, although assured by his friends that he was all right," This little incident is significant of the entire contest. The Tory party" by the mouthpiece of their organ, have all along expressed their assur. ance of Mr Guest's success. But they built their house upon the sand, aud "great was the fall thereof." TORY BOASTING. What of the Tory boasting now, about the cer- tainty of Mr Guest's return? Yesterday our Tory contemporary went so far as to say in its leading article—Mr Guest's candidature has, we are glad to announce, proved so success. ful that we have no hesitation in predicting his return at the head of the poll!" But the predictions of our contemporary have so often been falsified during the present gene- ral election that nobody now pays the slightest attention to its prophecies—in fact ita occupation as a prophet is gone, like that of Olhello. We were told only yesterday that "many staunch Liberals, moved by local considerations, have determined to vote for the Conservative can- didate." This was, on the face of it-wen, we will call it a "Salisbury." How even the Cardiff Tory organ, so noted during the coatest for its unblushing effrontery, could venture to say that even one staunch Liberal" vote for an out.and-out Tory like Mr Guest, is a query we leave the Cardiff Tories to solve. Those kind of statements, however, have been as plenti- ful as blackberries of late, aud are to be taken cum grano salis. THE IRISH VOTE IN CARDIFF. If we are to credit the Irishmen oraton who have been doing their best to cajole their countrymen to vote' solid at the election, the whole body voted for Mr Guest, and there- fore the Irish party cannot, for a moment, ever say that Mr Reed's success is owing to them as a party. That many Irishmen did vote for Mr Reed is well known to be a fact, but it none the less- remains that the boast of those who professed to be able to carry with them the Irish vote has made it impossible for the Irish party to claim any influence whatever in Mr Reed's return. It JOHN BULL" IN TEARS. The return of Mr Reed will bring tears to the eyes of "John Bull"—tears of bitter vexation and disappointment. If there was one thing "John Bull"—bv-the bye, what a curious name for the writer to borrow — set his heart upon, worked hard for, maligned and abused some of the best men of Cardiff .to accomplish, and penned all sorts of statements, partly true and wholly false, to ensure—it was to carry the Tory candidate. But it was not to be. Poor John Bull! What a misnomer, when that word "poor is pre- fixed to the honoured cognomen, adopted by a Tory hifaluter to hide his identity. But there —we will let him alone he is punished enough by the failure of all his scheming. THE GREAT CONSERVATIVE I VICTORY." The return of two Tories for a constituency that sent two Tories to the previous Parliament is characterised by the Tory organ as a great Con- servative victory." The biggest of type, and the most crack jaw phraseology, is used for the aus- picious occasion. Well, in the midst of the great Liberal reaction, when Tories are being replaced by Liberals all over the country, it be- comes necessary for the Tories to let the world know that they are not quite dead. What they would have done had any of the South Wales seats been carried is beyond comparison; but something extravagant we may be sure. If such a "great i Conservati ve victory" satisfies them, it is well, as it will serve to stop a few of the bitter tears they must have shed during the last few days at the success of the Rads." ■' THE LATE TORY PROCESSION CRITICISED. The following lines have been sent by one who says he doesn't set himself up for a poet, but has been induced by the failure of a Conservative I demonstration to go in for a rhyme for the first time." There is but a shirt and a-half in all my company, .—Shakespeare. Whence thlB howling gang of ruffians, Asked an im,o:ent young man; Why this horrid exaltation, Tell me gm"nor if J'ou can, Here I have been looking busy, For the last three, minutes quHe, But their row makes one quite dizzy, AnJ them torches don't burn bright. Who's that swell there in the middle, With the military phiz? Riding awkward in the carriage, i/ooks as If he'd just now riz. What's he bowing for I'd like to Know, and wherefore is he come? Where the dickens is he bound for ? Don't he look tarnation glum ? to Is 11e Borne great local preacher With an audience from tho low Streets of Cardiff? that's a feature Often noticed, ah, no, no They don't ride in carriage airy, On shanks pony they must plod, P'raps 'tis Cardiff Stipendary Just sent off a cove to quod." Chaug-ing' then my own position, I beheld.a Tury rough, Answer him with expedition, In an accent 1000 and aruff This is our great Tory party, We've the guv'ment of the race No more talk like that, my hearty. Will be stood in this ere place. liark What means that blatant cheering, From a hundred Tory throats- fee the witless crew appearing, With a hundred ragged coats. tipstaffs men must have looked charming Side by side with this vile crew;— Such alone now bear th' alarming Pressure of the Tory Screw. W.W.M. MR GLADSTONE. Mr Grant Duff, in the course of one of his recent addresses to his constituents, said that some years ago, v. hen Mr Gladstone's Administration was in power, a clever Tory, who hated both Mr' Glad- atone and his Administration, wrote the following acrostic :— G was the great man, mountain of mind I La logician, expert and refined; A was an adept iQ. rhetoric's ut, D was the dark spot he bad ia his heart; S was the sophistry led him astray T was the truth that he bartered away o was the cipher his conscience bec.ime N the new light that enlightened the same; E was the evil one. shouting for joy,— At it, aud dwn with it, Gladstone, my boy f* This acrostic was repeated in a drawing-room in the presence of a young lady of good Liberal principles, and the daughter of a well-known nember of Parliament, who, without leaving the :oom, went to the table and wrote thia answer ;0 it :— G is the genius that governs the nation; L are the Lords, who require education A is the ammus raised by tbe great; D are thè donkeys who fear for the State S is the st.\1lldard that Liberals raise; T are the Tories who howl in ■dispraise O 's Opposition, wanting a head; N is the natioo, 110t driveR but led, E is old England, shouting for joy, :c Stick to thc Government, Gladstone, my boy," rhe reading of this reply was greeted with loud md prolonged cheering by Mr Grant Duffs friends. NEW AND IMPROVED ADDRESS OF „ TORY CANDIDATES. Aifk—Fifty ye;¡¡'8 ago. To tho&i who'rc Nonconformists, I'm so goi.u aud kind and tine; In fact they are the dearth {c¡cutj .v That ever yet 1 knew But when they come to lay their dead Within a holy sput, Their mini8tel'll'J¡ave no rig-ht there- .No, de'-ci ded-ly not! CHORUS. For I belong-to the Tory days. And may be thought too slotr, For Whirrs are now more p'eutifuf < Than fifty years ago. Dissenters stian't pollute the Church I've slept ili from my !lifth- Although Gud made of one blood ail The jlatioll5 of the earth; But then I give them some soft soap" In speeches quite divine, So out .of platitude their vote3 Will all, o; cou'se, be mine. For I belong to the Tory clays, Sea Our soldiers and our sailor-boys I For England oft have bled, In many a.deidly battle-sceiie, Their hearts' bestbi<x>.i was shea; But if a soldier has '■ a drop," His bravery—what of that! Lay bare the soundre'i's back and give A dczjn wi'h the cut I For I belong, to the Tory days, fte. rhat Ballot hill, confound the thing? It i.? a shame I vow We kit Honls havn't trot a chance, To i uL the screw" on now Some tA nants ;oay "YCII" to my face, But then they")] ail vote ""0," This shameful L'all >t should not work Some fifty "ears 1"'01 For then we had the Tory days, Which now are thought, so slow; Truth's Jig-ht has abone where dark- neso reigned Those fifty yeaJ? ago THE PEMBROKESHIRE ELECTION. ) The return of Mr Wiri. Davies hns struck dis- may into the bosoms of the Pembrokeshire rories. The Picton influence was deemed so itrong in the county as to' make their rictory certain. The handsome majority of 148 votes for the Liberal candidate strikes i blow .«- Pembrokeshire Toryism .which vill cause that poisonous plant to hiae Its head liminished for all future time-or. at all events, ;ake a little of the swagger" out of it. Mr C. E. jr. Philips, like Mr Howel Gwyn in 1875, and ill other landlords whose agents put the "screw" )n, has now to bewail that "he had been betrayed. Eundreds of persons had promised him their votaa. and had cone azcunet him," If those votes had been promised in a fair, legitimate way, and not given to those to whom it would not havebeeu politic to say "No," they would have been kept' but if the agents of a Tury landlord put moral pressure on a Liberal tenant, and obtain a promise, they iiee 1 not be surprised to find it has not been kept. The Ballot is now thoroughly understood— it was not so in 1&74. THE MONMOUTHSHIRE ELECTION. The failure of the Liberal candidates for the Co, nty of Monmouth can only be attributable to one main reason—the immense popularity of the House of Tredegar in the county. Messrs Brod- rick and Warmington were strangers, it is true, but they were true Liberals, capital speakers, and made such a good impression on the electors of the. county that there seemed a reasonable hope of their return. But the feudal influence exercised by the Tredegar family has proved too much for the triumph of Liberal principles. Although the return of the Hon. F. C. Morgan and Mr Rolls is no gain to the Tory party, they will no doubt evince much jubilation, it being the first return of a Tory in this district during the present elec- tion. Well, all we can say is that they are quite welcome to spend as much in gas, blue- lights, and bunting as they think proper, and torches if they like to pap for them. THE SEQUEL TO LORD BEACONS- I FIELD'S MANIFESTO. Lord Beaconsfield sat in his gorgeous hall, In silent med itatlOn; Old Ensriand refused to obey his call, And, filled with (onsternatio!1. He taxed his wit, and puzzled his brain, To stem the titL of disaster And his brows IVere knit in fierce; mental pa' Aud his sluggish blood ran faster, As the hours went by, anti the tidinrs earner Tidings exceeding bitter; He saw, with a «ink:ug heart, his name, His glory, pomp, and glitter, Vanishing fast from old England's stage- Bis doom was too plainiy spoken; ° His name was blottcd from History's page. Anl he felt his heart was broken. 'farewell to all my greatness'—Must This enei my life's ambition, My hopes lie shattered in the !lust"! Oh lie wens I what a dread transition The coal of my youthful hopes was nigh, But the star of my life is ptlillg Alone, unloved, I must sit and silfb, All England my name assailing." Ha Who comes there ? Why do I shrink 1 Is't a shade I see before ate ? My heart beats fast, my spirits sink, And faintness stealetli o'e!" me Say Messenger of heaven or hell Art thou? Am I wake or dreammg Whr comes on IUV soul this dreadful spell As I watch his eye-balls gleaming V I am Ktmesis—I'm sent to thee, Nay. tremble not, but hear me; I but unfold thy destiny Thou hast no cause to fear me. List to me then while I read thy doom, As writ in the Book of Fate; E'en now o'er thy life dread portents loom. And thy soul is at death's dark gate." The arts of agitators bold. Have hurl'd thee from power and place, Thy plans have been defeated thy hold Is lost upon England's race; The boasted sway and ascendency Of the past administration; Is gone for aye, and Brit?in's free From her long infatuation. Britain's best men for six long years Thou hast covered with detraction; And Britons, freed from coward fears, May remember with satisfaction That thy reign is o'er, and thy evil deeds; That have tarnished England's glory, Will be cursed by all classes and all creed* As they read thy terrible story." Thy baleful power o'er Ireland gone. Its people—no more tormented By Acts coercive-will soon Le won By justice, and be contented; Had'st thou their hatred never earn'd, Their country's wrongs not slighted, They would not now thyrtue have spurn'4 And with scorn thy sneers requited." How could'st thousay that dangers di. That down-trod land distracted ? Twas thou that kindled the patriot fire, By stringent laws enacted; They seek the rights of Englishmen, Not the' Union bond to BeWW; Give them those equal rigrhta, and then They'll faithful be tor ever. Thy doctrine destructive is now diao. By all men of light and léading A foe to England's weal thou'rt found And no more thy counsels heeding, The strength of this nation will depend On the unity offeeUng; That pervades the land from enu to end True patriotism revealing." l,"Why didst thou not consolidate That true co-operation, Which has made old England rich and great A liberty-loving nation ? Th' Imperial character of this realm- The phantasy thou defended— b o'er-for thou'rt driven from the helm Of State—Thy reign is ended." In vain for thee thy friends have strives, B popular election;— Thlt country's verdict, plainly given, Decrees thy prompt I ejection; liQW what avails thy pomp and power, Thy uncontrolled ambition, Thou hast had the glory of an hour. And now, down to perdition" For the miseries dire, the want and wee, The wars thou hast fomented, The name of Beaconsfield will go, Unloved and unlamented. N The dread voice ceased, and Beaconsfield Looked up-the spell was broken, And he wiped the diops on his brow oongeal'd For he felt that his doom was spoken. The words and phrases printed in are italics from Lord Beaconsfield's Manifesto.

BUKIEDALIVE. On' Saturday evening, three girls, named Hall, Turnbull, and Hutchinsot), v, ere playing in a sand hole at Pity Mee, near Durham, when a bank of sand, weighing several tons, suddenly came away. Hjjll and Tumbull were buried ajive Hutchinson escaped. A number of men commenced digging, avid speedily recovered the girl Turnbull alive; hopes are entertained of her recovery. The little girl Hall was more deeply embedded, and was quite dead when got out.

TRADE REVIVAL YN AUSTRALIA. The Ironmonger has received tbe following tele- gram from Sydney. There is very little doubt that we are on the eve of a decided improvement in all branches of business, in which change the metallurgical departments will inevitably partici. pate, Already importers and dealers have re- ceived larger and more numerous orders, and are sending out more iron wire, etc., than they have been doing for aome time past. Prices are conse- quently firmer. The improvement is due doubt- less to the higher figures realised for wool, copper, and other Australian produce in England. A general revival of trade is therefore confidently anticipated.

*"JUST AS I <' I J,y MISS BBA.BBW*- .s ~.r ~ZT^^BE I^HINI> THE OHAP I'ER XVI. £ J T>, 1 imfl Miss "You Here, Morton/ fjer nephew's l?Mi>g pale with au r W'* d° a<VSir «\res my dea«' aut». was orivrag inio fat'namel. I b^ard 'a sv r>'>«bt be coming to lgiic'.ere, nnJ I ^,CAed Ifee Ladv jiitherdon the rest of the "1 thought you ,id his aunt." the hot-houses by tVulcie i-*d. liacV "her m;o her pony carriage four o'clock, 8h PI want a little quiet. talk »ncf rode ^'fLnle,rt'hen xou'\e (mice done with R'i'h Su JN anle bhn." "I Ie' ,1:1 no^talk b?fnre me Morton? ,u; Jt k ;o t you want to talk about. It } t concerns me as nearly as it does 48 a s (,e" you trust me. Morton?" dbn'"f somet>mes as if I could r.^ e—as*1' were surrounded by smooth- c5L>,i What is the meaning of this rtemrv 'i Nathaniel, and why have you signet i • tliat man is guilty he deserves to ITS "t,tre wa'3 never a mote brutal murce — 'HIJV'iS-lievei a utter subject for the gallows. He is old and broken down," faltered Sir athai :iel. "is tiwt any rea-on he should be spared? Wh t S his wretched remnant of existence when weighed *Rra.inst my father's prime of life—full of hope and gadness and benevolent thoughts and dee Is. ■Biood for blood—a liie for a life. Th;>t is the iivine law, which Christ came to fulfil and not to destroy." U Curist forgave the renHent thief, and this man « penitent, "leaded Dora Blake. "Th e only par ion his penitence can deserve is pardon beyond the grave. Sir ^'athanicl,I want io kuo.v whether this memorial was your idea?" It was not. Sir Everard Courtenay was the "11.11 who started it." I thought as much. Sir Everard has taken a jMrciful view of this business from the outset. He shown a scrupulous desire to avoid the shedd- tag- of blood." "lHy dear Blake, it is natural for you to ieel ■*trons;ly n, on this subject, but you must consider that there is a growing prejudice against capital ffuaishment." "I wish there were a growing punishment lor, trmrder," said Morton, gloomily. What was It that you feared míght be in tha count#! s mind ♦hen he asked Sir Everard these extraordinary *uestiotis about his wife?" Sir Nathaniel hesitated, and looked nervously tt Miss Blnke.. u Come, Sir Nathaniel, be frank with me, yon »ere my father's friend," fivervbody who knew your father was nis Mend." "Yet the counsel suggested' that he might have bad a secret enemy, and the drift of his examina- Hon tended to show that Sir Everard Courtenav toight have been that enemy. Sir Nathaniel, Aut Bora, for God's sake do not try to keep me hi tire dark upon this subject, if your knowledge 2&u enlighten nae» father had beoii .Lady Courtfnay's suitor before her marnage. So much Sir Everard admitted. Do you know if there Was any jealousy in Sir Everard's mind after his marriage?1 Do you kno.v if he had any reason for fesenfcment ?" I never beard such an idea hinted," said Sir Nathaniel decidedly. So far as I know, Lady Courteuay's reputation was spotless." What was it then that you feared might be a the counsel's mind when he questioned, Sir ilverard ?" "It occurred to me during the hunt on the day lefore poor Blake's death that he and Sir Everard erft not quite so friendly in their manner to each )ther as they had usually been. There was some- Jhing that looked like a tacit avoidance on both occasion 13. Remember, Blake, this may have bean waly a fancy on my part. J. Possibly. Yet it is a circumstance to be re- 11 Mubered." "Morton," cried Miss Blake, turning her pale, gjrtwbed face to her nephew, with a look of ten* entreaty, for Dukie's sake, for your own, vmt your mind against these vague suspicions. g"ou cannot suppose that Sir Everard Courtenay, pe man you have long known and respected, your gSher'a old college friend, was in any manner im* ^heated in that cruel murder?" >4) Why does he try to save the murderer's life?"* l* *.3 an ac^ of common humanity." Daust &e behind the age," said Morton bit- Kriy. I am sadly wanting in Christian-like soiapasaion for my father's murderer, Come, Sir Nathaniel has frankly stated his Jpmlon about Lady Courtenay. You were silent Just now. Are you of the same opinion ? Did 'fDU know anythlDg in my father's lifetime of any gelations between hfan and Lady Courtenay which $ £ c??v J to disttlrb Sir Ererard'a Nothing. ""Then I atn justified In believing that Mr fbmplin's suggestions had no better foundation man prurient imagination." 14 Assuredly. Mr Tomplin could know nothing." "Thank God. For Dulcie's sake, yes, for DulciVs sake, do you suppose I would willingly £ vs roy mind to any suspicion that involved her ther ? Yet doubts have forced themselves upon Jie—doubts that have made me miserable. Last ixght I heard it suggested that the man who jaurdered my father was on horseback, a horse» fcan who follow ed him after the hunt, and how to- lay this woman comes to me with her assertion of Jer father's innocence, and with an air of truth wont her that has impressed me in spite of my* Self." Self." "Such a belief is only natural in a daughter," laid Miss Blake. "True, and Shafto Jebb's idea about the horse- tnanmay be mere folly. He is the kind of man Jfho likes to originate some startling theory, I been so worried about this matter that I'm I left Dulcie rather hurriedly. Fll ride, prst to Fairview. Good bye, Sir Nathaniel, Don't dinner for me, Auntie." He left without waiting]?for another word, ^teounted his horse, and started at a sharp trot for Austhorpe, fall of tender thoughts about Dulcie. fancied that he had been cureless, neglectfnl of Jjer during her visit to the Manor House^ and ha Was eager: to make amends. "My sweet Dulcie 1 And to think that my lather once loved her mother. There seems a fatality in it. But I will not believe that my father could act dishonourably that, having tried Jkis chance and lost it, he would give his rival £ ausa for jealousy. No. Everybody tells me that £ e was frank and open-hearted, true as steel. Such • man could never have stooped to treachery." CHAPTER XVII.—COMB TO GBHEF. It was the nineteenth of December, two days I Before the Monday appointed for Humphrey tYsrgas's execution, and there had been as yet no sominntation of the sentence* Very few people jrere thinking of the condemned criminal on this Hear winter morning, for there were pleamnter Subjects for thought amoBgst the crowd on Jfangley Common, where the South Dt^e- tghire Hunt met for the first time this sea- son. There had been a breakfast at the Manor House, and Andrew and his subordi- nates weie now going about with tankards and lecanters for the refreshment of those horsemen Sio had not availed themselves of their oppor- amities in-doors. Between thirty and forty horse- men were gathered on the smooth stretch of sward » front of the Manor House railings, and the road efore the house was crowded with carriages. The founds were clustered on a grassy knoll apart. ^ith huntsman and whipper-in keeping guard Jv6r their movements, while the master trotted »ere and there on his powerful chestnut, big with she business of the day. There w ere half a dozen hdias among the red and dark coats a brace of JtM-mer's daughters, rosy-cheeked, buxom; Mrs ,j7pham, the lawyer's wife, who, according to popular opinion, ought to have been at home mind* lag her children instead of scouring the country jOn her husbapd's gaunt grey gig-horse Miss Mor- ^viBon, a small squire's daughter, out with her ;«tfcer, a plethoric, sandy-whiskered man in a yell-worn scarlet coat and mahogany tops. Mrs ^Elson Tudlfly, from Highclere, a half-pay majors »i £ e and lastly, on a perfect hunter, in a habit If peifect cut, with the neatest little chimney K>t W and the newest thing in white ties, Lady Jnanois Graage, the finest horsewoman in that of Daleshire. t M How is it that the Blatchmardean people eontrive to ride such good bOrSes 1" asked Mrs • Tilsaa Tudley, of Upham, with an envious glance jf £ Lady Francis's thoroughbred brown. "I thought tbey were as poor as church mice." 44^ey are," answered Jack Upham, reply- tag tor bis wife, who had as much as she could do lokeep her ungainly g«-«y from getting his hind \Uta. a concatenation with the hind legs of gber horses, all shifting and wheeling and fidget- ea £ for the fray. They've te°^UT for,people in their position, tat as Lord Blatchmardean never spends anyl fcng except upon hw stables he contrives to cut a Sdy figure there. );±le lets everything else at the castle run to seed. £ I believe Lady dances has hardly » second fttwn to her baclc,' said Mrs Dudley "L&dy Eitherdou told me that she was tired of seeing her • black net and yellow roses. # Yet she always looks well, sa'" yPj»ap>« she Was out and away the best dancer at the hospital hall, among the girls," added ^ie. rf" ■ikided by a vindictive glance that the lady to thorn he was talking prided herself particularly ■pon her waltzing.. It's a pity slie can't get married, drawled Mrs Tudley, languidly compassionate. Can't!" exclaimed Mrs Uphnm, "JShesnot touch more than twenty, and she fflay never have teen anybody she cares about." "Ob, but don't you know girls in that rank are Expected to marry young. A girl of that kind is wought up to'make a good njari iage, 'and if she noesn't do it in her second or third season she is stamped with failure. Now, Lady Fanny has had two seasons 10 London with her aunt, Lady Duffington, and nothing has come of it. I should gut her down as a decided failure, though she really has very nice ways, and is rather good •Kyle." Don't yon think her pretty ?" "No," slid Mrs Tudley decisively, "Too jiin, too brown, too angular," But surely she has fine eyes ?" "I didn't say she was hideous," retorted Mrs Dudley, with some acidity. She had met Lady Frances at the hospital ball, ga Lady Kitherdons annual garden party, f«>Ch was au ominium gatherum for half the f~Unty, and on the strength of these two public encounters affected, in her conversation with of Mrs Upham's class, to be in the Blatch- ^ardean set, but the consciousness that she was Save a subdued sourness to her tone Th*?*1 Lady Frances was talked about. la(Jy aDd ber brother, Lord Beville, 1"11c L!. in 'nto t^ie Manor house shrubbery to fttndin Pora ^lake and her neices. She was Pential t 'ier Baddle to say something oonfi- & the fam iIDy' v ho was her particular favourite ofrBy-^jy* Morton was on the common with m««t 4^T a,9c' ^'8 daughter who had driven to I wonS a lnail phaeton. 1 Miss Con: lmnfc," nc-'• b'-rr ':i .'it J "A Uit: •• f,; 4,1 jaaiiB plenty of horses. She might as well enjoy her tiff." "I dnri't kiYow that, she would cave about it," said Tiny, and I I^M>W Morton wouldn't like it." .1 Oh, he'doesn't 1; b. women to hunt, Isu; pose." said Litdy France-, tvddenini; a little. "Can't bear iiuuti'ng waraan, If it wasn't for that lllhonld hunt. Butter-fiy jumps beautifully, and she's considered my particular property, don't you k)M).v. J'.nfc when I gently suggested riding her to hounds, Ai orton looke 1 as blwik as thunder, ai d protestpd fliat no sister of his should ever un- st x herself by scampering over hedges iind ditches, ana cannoning at <?ates, amongfft a herd of rough farmers and impertinent cockneys. Rather naffow-ndnde'd of hini, isn't it? "Well, it's hardly what I should have expected fromau aiivanced Liberal; but I believe men who. take a wide view of politics think themselves "ri- lel:eil to have narrow ideas about eviry hing ;else. I wish you w«re coming w it.h us, Tiny, all the same. J'm sure yon would enjoy it." ""Enjoy it ? I should fancy myself in heaven. If ever I marry a nice, biddable man, I shail hunt four times a week. L"r I lieviile rode in to say that they were mov- iiv.r, and Lady Frances trotted gaily off by his skij, but the gaiety was rather in tLe movement of tier lively young horse than in her own face, which was grave and even troubled. The stopped to speak to Sir Everard and Dulcie, au to J\lorton, whose horse was drawn up beside the phaeton, and who seemed indifferent to the iropectsof the day, in his delight at beiug with Ditfcie. She as looking her fairest and brightest, as if something had happened to put her iu particularly good spirits. "We are going to draw Yarfiell Corse," said Morton, You might drive a good way with us, Sir Everard." ''Do, papa," said Dulcie, so the phaeton fol- lowed among the horsemen, together with various pony chaises and family vehicles of the wa- gonette or inside-car species, which rovoked some muttered animadversion from the liuniiug men. It was a lovely morning, clear, balmy, with a |> warm, south-west wind gently stirring the last leaves upon the young trees, an l bearing in its ■ breath the perfume of distant pirie-woods, and the fresh cool odour of newly-ploughed uplands. The sunshine lit up the ragged hedges, where the black- berry leaves still hung, beautiful in their decay. with every variety of tint, from olive green to bronze, from crimson to darkest purple, and where the hawthorn berries glittered like jewels against their nrtset background. The narrow winding river yonder in the valley reflected the blue of a sky that was almost without a cloud. Every vestige of last week's frost had disappeared. Morton felt the influence of this genial atmos- phere, the beauty of earth and sky. He was well mounted, and moderately fond of hunting, not an enthusiast like his father, but able to enjoy A good run in a pleasant country, with all nature smiling at him. A long day in a Scotch mist, over ground in which his horse sank to the shoulder, was not his idea of bHss even though the scent lay well, and the run was popularly supposed to be the best of the season. To-day he was in excellent spirits. He had spent a good deal of his life with Duiloie during the last week, and he had made up bis mind to be happy. Yet, even to day, the sight of Shafto Jebb pounding along on au elderly grey horse unpleasantly recalled that conversation which he had overheard at the Sugar Loaves, and gave him an uncomfortable feeling. He was riding on a strip'of turf beside the road, Lady Frances Grange and Lord Beville by his side. Morton and Lady Frances were old friends. He and Beville had been together at Rugby, chums at school and at home, and Morton had been on the pleasantest terms at Blatchmardean ever since those old Rugby days. He was as much at his ease with Frances Grange as with bis own sisters. Before bit engagement to Dulcie oe had been in the habit of spending a good deal of his leisure at Blatchmardean, playing billiards with Lord Beville, taking lessons in farming from the old earl, dawdling about the neglected gardens and shrubberies with Frances. At home he was always full of work, but at Blotchtoardean, where no- body had any turn for industry, he was eontented to waste his time. Blatchmardean was his place of rest and recreation. Then came his engage- ment to-Sk Everard Courtenay's daughter, and it seemed as if all those idle hours in the library-to which nobody had added a book for the last forty years—in the billiard-room, and in the picturesque old gardens, were over and done with for ever. He called at the castle now and then, just often enough to escape the charge of neglecting old friends, but be dawdled away life there no longer. All his leisure was devoted to Dulcie. Neither Francesfror >her brother resented this defection. They accepted it as an inevitable con- sequence of new tie*, a sew and absorbing affec- tion. "Modon is terribly in earnest," said Berille U he never does anything by halves. I am glad neither you nor I take life as seriously as he does, Fan." Frances answered with a faint sigh. "Perhaps we are wrong and he is right. Life may He » DLuch more solemn business than we thiak. and its seriouanes* will be brought home to our mvoloua. omdi one day in someaapleaaant manner." Beville could not bring himself to the considera- tion of a question so metaphysical, I don't know about that," he said. I hope we shall always manage to rub on somehow." Frances missed her old companion sorely at first, missed him always, indeed, for her friends at Blatchmardean were not many. The Earl did not encourage society of any kind. W"ecan just afford to keep onrselyes," he said but we qan't afford to be eaten out of house and home by other people," So there were no visitors coming to stay at the castle, no roster of guests, one set departing as another set amved. No clubable men came from afar to shoot Lord Blatchmardean's pheasants, or to smoke in the big stone hall which served for lounge and billiard-room. Two or three times in the season the Earl would ask a neighbour to join him in his day's sport but for the rest of the time he and Beville and gamekeeper shot the birds and enjoyed their pic- nic luncheons of bread and cheese and Bass with a relish which not every man can experience whose mid-dajr appetite is coaxed into vigour by peri- gord sies and efiotee liquaura. Sometimes Frances was ulowed any her father and brother ( on their lo through boggy plantations, over deep • ;;1;1\ leaves, and showed heo self as goou as either of them. Beville had taught her to ..audie a gun before.ahe was twelve years old, just as he had taught her to ride, and to fence, and to play cricket, making her his companion in all things. It had happened, therefore, that Morton, bei Beville's chosen cham, had become, in the com- mon course. of things* Lady Frances Grange's chief male friend—indeed, her only one—a little given to lecturing; but; if .a girl likes a man she likes to be lectured by him not at all given to flattery; but Lady Francos detested compliments. He bad been kind and attentive to her always, bringing her such books as she eared to read, such songs aa she cared to sing, all of the lightest and airiest character. He had taken care that she was supplied with flowers and: fruit from the ex- tensive hothonsesat Tangley. He had made it a point with his women kind that they should visit her, and invite her to their house, aad make much of her. And then, just as the family at the Manor had made up their minds that Lady Frances Grange, was to be Lady Frances Blake, Morton had fallen head over ears in love with Sir Everard Courteaay's daughter. His Aunt Dorothea went so far as to tell him that she had always supposed Frances would be his wife. My dearest aunt, what could have put such an idea into your head?" he exclaimed with a look of wonder, which proclaimed his perfect inBocei1ce. I like Fan immensely. I am just as fond of her as I am of my sisters, but the notion of marrying her never came into my head." All I hope is that it has never come into hers." replied Miss Blake, gravely. I used to w onder, certainly, that you should choose a girl brought up as slie has been, and with such exclusively male surroundingø-gjrl whose tastes are all mascu- line—but she is graceful and attractive, and I thought——" "You thought quite wrong, dear auntie, as YOft far-seeing women often do, when you specu- late about other people's affairs," Morton answered lightly, and no more bad ever been said upon the subject Miss Blake and her nieces still called upon Lady Frances Grange, and asked her to the Manor Home, and the friendship, without being abso- lutely enthusiastic, went on pleasantly enough. Nothing in Frances's manner from first ito^ast indicated that she felt she had any rivht to be offended at Morton's choice, or that she was so offended. She talked freely of Dulcie, and praised her warmly. Your brother could not have made a better choice," she said to Clementine and Horatio. "You know that, in a general way, I detest girls —your sweet selves, of course, excepted—but I consider Dalcif simply perfect." • • • And now carriages and horses had arrived at Yarfield Gorse, a wild bit of land on the slope of a hill crested with fir trees, and here the serious business of the day began. There was a good deal of cantering about and about in a seemingly pur- poseless manner, which the people in thp carriages were able to see; a good deal of dismounting and tightening of girths," and a general getting ready for the fray, and then all in a moment there came the shrill cry "Gone away," the hounds were leaping and tumbling over the hillocky ground like a flash of living light, and the field rushed helter-skelter after them in a hand gallop, with T-h rances and Morton in the first flight. fhPTi.nr«n^f^jnari:ow bit of Plough, a hedge, and ,lcl stretch of pasture, where the quiet at wondering at the whoop and riot of the eW aa it 8pad by*them and wa £ gone. Perhaps as they settled down placidly to their grazing they were half disposed to believe that the whole thing had been a vision—a nhe- nominal appearance m the air. Stick by me," cried Frances, looking round at Morton, as she took the hedge. I know every inch of the country. Isirt this glorious ?" she asked, as they were galloping smoothly across the grass, neck and neck, with on-y the huntsman and a chosen few skimming along m front of them. f.i Morion could not deny that it was so, though he had made up his mind long ago that hunting women were detestable, and had told Tiny so wheu she wished to ride Butterfly to hounds. The fresh clear air, the open country, the sense of being borne along by an animal powerful enough to carry him to the end of the earth, or at least to the edge of the horizon yonder, wtiere the distant woods made a line of umber agamst the azure of the sky-atl these filled him with de- light. He forgot that this girl by whose fide he rode was not Dulcie, that it was in some measure a treason against Dulcie that he should be utterly happy iu her company he forgot everything ex- cept the keen rapture of being carried across that wide level pasture to the gap yonder through which the hounds wore jnst scrambling. And though he had stigmatised hunting as an feminine pursuit, he coula but own to himself that Frauces Grange had never looked more exquisitely girlish than at this moment, as her slight figure moved in tune with every movement of her horse, ord the delicate oval of her cheek warmed with a flush of tenderest carmine, while her dark eyes sparkled with the excitement of the moment, "He's making for water!" fho oried, "and tho bunk's horridly rt,Jcv t No matter—we <wn t lose them." You'd better go round," remonstrated Mor- ton there'aa shallow fotdiowar down. j Go round," she cried, contem..tuous y we might as well go to London. I shall risk the dip, vonder You needn't come unless you like. What's" become of Beville ?" Thei'e waa no one in front of them wit tho officials and the master, with about half a.dozeu of the hardest riders, -amongst whom Stances could not distinguish her brother ^figure. Behind them tlie field had scattered^ wide, some having found a gate in the corner of the pasture,, while the rest had taken the hedge atdiaerent points. Beville who was always well to the fore, oo aid hardly be among these but there vvaa no time to wonder about him. Fox and hounds were on the other side of the narrow, shallow river, and a tew of the horsemen were scrambling down the bank, while the prudent ones gallopea OH to hud aa easier passage. There are a lot refusing," cried Morton, you'd better come round." Good-bye," retorted Frances, waving her hnnting crop. 1.1 Morton was not to be dismissed so cavalierly. He put his trust in Providence and a clever hunter, and followed Lady Frances. The stream, about four teet deep, ran at the bottom of a hollow, the steep bank made danger- ous by brushwood and mountain ashes and alders. There was hardly room for a horse to squeeze him- self between the trees, and the clay bank was so rugged and treacherous that it needed a clever animal to keep his footing in the scramble down to the water. One man had had his ducking already, and was chasing his horse across the next field, but Frances did not accept this gentleman's disaster as a warning, kindly intended by Pro- vidence, for she thought herself better than any member of the South Dal eshire- '• Some wretched stockbroker from London, I dare say," she said to herself, as she steered her horse cautiously through the trees. He got clown the bank cleverly enough, but for some inexplicable reason chose to take objection to the water, and made a frantic rush for the opposite side. Here again there were trees and brushwood, and caution as needful, but caution is unavailing with a horse gone suddenly mad. He made a wild bound out of the stream, dashed up the slippery bank, knocked his rider's head against a tree, and then rolled back into the water. Please somebody see that my horse is'nt hurt," cried Lady Francelf, as Morton pulled her out of her saddle, a dripping Diana, and then, stunned by the blow against the tree, she fainted in Mr Blake's arms. Happily his horse was strong enough to carry them both utttho bank. while- Lady Frances's thoroughbred struggled up on the- other side; very little the worse for his bad behaviour, and was caught by Lord Beville's groom, who had just come quietly up on his master's second horse. Theheuads were half over the next field by this time, and Morton was alone with Lady Frances, the gftjom looking at them with at) air of respect- ful imperturbability from the opposite bank, as iwho should say, If she's dead, I cant help, it. and if she's alive I'm ready to obey orders. A hunting field is no place for the display of emotion." I think we're out of it," Morton said to him- self, as he pulled up his horse, and stood with Frances in his arms, waiting for her to come to herself. He remembered in the next moment that he had some brandy in his hunting flask, but before he could put the bottle to her lips, Lady Frnnees revived a little, opened her eyes, and looked dreamingly about her. "Where are the hounds T" she asked, not im- mediately aware of her somewhat singular posi- tion upon somebody else's horse. "I'm afraid they're in the next county. Wouid you miud taking a little brandy? I'm sure you must be giddy and ill." I feel as if I were in a merry-go-round," an- sweied Lady Frances. H No, thank you I couldn't possibly do it," as he offered his brandy flask, Good gracious! Where's my horse ? "On the other side of the river. Don't be frightened—your groom has got him. The brute isn't hurt. I'm glad of that. I don't mind being smashed a little myself, but I wouldn't have Primus hurt for all the world, or xtt least as much of it as I'm entitled to." "Primus Is that his name?" Facile primus. Beville christened him. I believe it's about all the Latin he kuews." She slipped out of Morton's arms, and dropped lightly to the ground, looking as bright as if nothing had happened, though she was very pale, and her habit was streaming with water and plastered with clay. "Are you sure Primus is all right, Brooks?" she called to the groom. "Yes, my lady, he's right enough, more shame foe him." "Do you think we could Oatoh them?" she asked Morton. "You are a better judge than I am, bnt I am sure you ought not to ride any further to-day." Perhaps you are rights My head is a little painful," she said," putting her hand to her fore- head. I suppose it's the effect of the tree." "There's a farmhouse on the Blackford-road, not half a mile off," .said Morton, who had dis- mounted before this. "If you will let me put you on my horse, and lead him there, your groom could go back to Blatchmardean, and send a car- riage for you." "That seems such an awfully spoony thing to do," said Lady Frances, and it's rather too bad that I should keen you out of all the fun." I don't care a straw about the fun. I only want to take care of you." She was feeling faint and sick, and rather in- clined to lie down on the grass, and let the world go by her, than to make any kind of effort. So she allowed Morton to settle matters for her, whereupon he tied up one stirrup, shortened the other, and mounted the lady 011 his own horse. S £ We're going to Dawley farm," he called to the groom, You can go back to Blatchmardean and send a carriage to fetch your mistress." What am I to do about Lord Beville's horse f* asked the groom. Do the bebt you-can." The man went away dispirited. He had been going aorosa country in hia best style, thongh he was supposed to have been nursing bis 'master's second horse in sueII a manner as to deliver up 1m unexhausted aniuial wllen the- day'c work was half over, and now he had to trot quietly back to Blatchmardean, leading the guilty Primus. (To be continued.)

SHOCKING OUTRAGES BY SPANISH BRIGANDS. The atrocities lately perpetrated by Spanish j bandits in the provinces or La Mancha anJ Lerlda have been characterised by a wanton and cold- blooded cruelty never surpassed by the black deeds of Italian and Greek brigands. A band of mis- creants recently entered the village of Fueuto del Tresno, near Ciudad Real, and broke into the houses of the mayor and of four well-to-do farmers, which they systematically Blundered of all the portable valuables they could find. Having com- pleted this portion of their undertaking, they pro- ceeded to the extortion of money by torture, par- tially roasting some of tbeir victims, and thrust- ing pins under the nails of others, until they had effectually "persuaded "the luckless villagers to disclose and give up all their little hcuurds of ready cash. Then the chief of the band begirded himself with the municipal sash of the mayor, and, assisted by his lieutenant, arrayed in full canonicals, united the members of his band to the prettiest girls of the village by a mock marriage ceremony. Meanwhile, a wedding feast had been prepared under compulsion by some of the older women, and the brigands wound up their exploit with a scandalous orgie that lasted nearly five hours, during which time not a man in the village ventured to leave it in search of rescue or aid from the neighbouring city. Again, while the whole adult population of Rhodes, a village in the province of Lerido, was assembled in church. listening to the preaching of its aged pastor, several masked and heavily- armed men suddenly rushed into the sacred build- ing. Two stationed themselves at the door to prevent anyone from escaping, while three others scaled the pulpit, stunned the preacher by a sav- age blow on the head, and dragged him away to hie dwelling adjoining the church, their comrades keeping the congregation in cheok with levelled muskets. When the venerable priest re- covered consciousness he found himself in his parlour surrounded by ferocious bandits, who required him on pain of instant death to hand them over five hundred gold ounces. All the money he possessed amounted to but ten ounces, which he produced; but they refused to believe his solemn asseverations that he had no more, pricking him with their knives until he faietea from loss of blood, and bringing him to by setting a light to his face, which they had besmeared with sulphur whilst he lay unconscious. His female servant, who attempted to raise an alarm, they stabbed to the heart; after which, lfuling to extort from their agonised victim the sum they tv d fixed as his life ransom, they decamped in safety, having encountered 110 resistance whatever at the hands of the Rhodes villagers. Such are the exploits by which Spanish brigands have groved their title to share the isfamous notoriety it her to enjoyed by Italian banditti and Hellenic klephts,

A SI MPLE PXWNBliOKER. t1 At >the Dale-street police-court, Liverpool, on Saturday, before Mr RadHes-a sailor, who gave the name of Robert Ramsey, was charged with stealing a pair of marine-glasses, the property of Anguste Delane, boarding-ltouse keeper, Dublin- street. The prisoner was a boaider in the house, and he pledged the glasses for 7s, with Mr Dalgleish, pawnbroker, Great Howard-street. The assistant who took the glasses in, said the prisoner told him he was Lord Ramssy—(laughter)—and he made out the ticket in that name.—Mr Raffles: And did you believe him ? Witness Well, I don't know.—Mr Raffles Your common sense might have told you he was not Lord Ramsay. Lord Ramsay is quite a a young man. Besides, you might be sure he would not come to Liverpool to pawn things. (Laughter.) Prisoner Ramsay ia my name. I put "Lord" before it. (Laughter.) "Lord Ramsay is a nickname they gave me. He was Very sorry for what he had done, which was all through drink, and he intended to have redeemed the property, Mr Raffles said drunkenness was ao excuse for crime, but he would deal with the Base as one of illegally pledging. The prisoner was ordered to pay a fine of 40s and costs, and 7s, the amount he had received on the glasses, or a month 8 imprisonment.

DISEASED MEAT AT BRIDGES!). On Saturday, portions of the carcase of a" cow unfit for human food were seized on the premises of a butcher named David m Queen-street, Bridg- end. An order was made for its destruction.

The ship Border Chief, which arrived at Mel- bourne from London on the 14th of February, re- ports seeing an Iceberg of very large'proportions in latitude 47 deg. S. and longitude 52deff. E. This Ice Island was considered to be about 260ftt hiitb and about five miles in length, The Border Chief passed within seven miles of Ib, and although the wator Will gauged to tnr its temperature, theie was title or nn dittoreupa found.

Y GOLOFN GVMREIG Dymunif i'n gohebwyt Cymreig gyfeirio en gohebiaethau, llyfran i'w hadolygu, &c., fel y canlyn :— DAPYDD MORGAN WG, JJinjain, Aberdare. Nid ydym yn gyfrifol am olygiadau ein goliebwyr.

L AT EIN GOHEBWYE. Goiidua iawn genym eiu bod yr wythnos hon, ohern ydd cystudd ag sydd wedi goddiweddyd ein GolygyddparchulI, yn gorfod gohirio erthygl ar yr Etholiadan, ac hefyd y sylwadau ar y cynyrchion a dderbyniwyd yn ddivveddar. Y mae'r "Awdl o Ddiolchgarwch am y Cynauaf 1879," yn y swyddfa, ond o berwydd cyfyngder angliyffredin ein gofod yn bresenol, rhaid iddi aros am ychydig etc. "Caffed amyneddolrwydd ei pherffeitliiolaf weithredolrwydd," ys dywed Brythonfryn,

Y GWYNT.—(BODDUGOL.) G-was thydd o'r mynydd i'r mor—yw y gwynt, Dan gantau'r nef oror; Bywyd yw, a cherbyd lor, Myn ddengyd mae'n ddi-angor. OcwvtjTDD,

GWEDDI. Yn ddifwleh cyfaddetiad—yw gweddi, Agaddaserfyumd; A dengys ymosdyngiad 0 fiaen Duw. a'i foli'n dad. OGVTBNYDD,

DAU ENGLYN I Gyfrinfa Odyddol Mary Wayne," Aberdar. (Buddugol.) "Dyngarwch," d na goron—Marv Wavna Mae'r oes wrth ei chalon; Y gwael ei vripg a wel.hon, A'r 11 wyd dan faich traltodion. I'r afiaoh y gyr hufen—ei haeledd. Gvvna'i galon yn llawen I Ei hymgais nid yw'n amgen I waith hoff Odyddiaeth wen; Aberdare. GLAN DULAIS.

Y GWYDRAID CYNTAE. i Ha, lane dechreu arlyncu dychryn—wyt Ya dy gyntaf wydryn j ■Y £ i tlf, ond cofia hyn, JE ddaw alaeth i'w ddilyn. Y ddraig erch sydd ar ei gwaac-i dynti Dy enaid i'w chrafanc Drwy'r gwirod rhngd'li dianc, Ei harcholl dry'n erchyll dranc! Rhyw allwedd drws i'r fro hyltaf—ydyw'th Hudol wydraid cyntaf; Tynu wyt ddigolaint Naf, Dialedd fydd dy olaf. Daw o for y "dyferyu"—hen afon" o ofid ddiderfyn Ow wledd wael, gwylia, O ddyn, Rhag edrych ar y gwydryn. CADIfoR,

I ODLAU HIRAETH. Ar farwolaeth Hugh Owen Rhys, plentyn y [ Parch J. E. Hhys. Abertelery. Ovflwynedig i Mr a Mra Rhys yn eu galar. 1 suo Hugh Owen Bach, Yn chwythu bo'r awel iach; I'w liuno, cwsg enyd fydd, ]s Ar gyfer tragwyddol ddydd; I Ond angel asth gyda brys A'i enaid i'r nefol lys; Ar ol ei daenellu a sanctaidd wawl, Cyflwynwyd yu gerob i gartref mawl. Disgynodd felgwlithyn claer ['n byd ni o'r Nefol Gaer; Ond ei Hautoedd, alien wedd/ „ Yn gwasgaf1 gwres gwlad yr heddf I lawr ar eich plentyn mad, 0 dan ei belydrau Mad, Y denwyd yn Onion i fyny'n pi, I lathru yn ganaid byth yn ei 01. Mae heddyw o afael cUr, Yn berffaith fel Storaph pjar; A deil mewn anfarwolfri, I'r Nefoedd eich delw chwi, M6r o gfin y w'r Wyufa Wen, Hyd ati aid oes ond lien; A glywch ehwi'r caniadau uwch toaau gwae, Yn treiddio hyd yma,—ra ymyl m&e. O'i ftaen hi fydd RiaPW etwy Ei gyrchu a gafodd tnvy Yrafon ddofn tua'r wlad, Sydd yn llawn f1 wir fwynhad Cyn rftoddi cam at y drws, Na siarad gair, oedd yn dlws Pn Hiesu ni, a rhaid i'r Ganaan dlos, Ei gyrchu fu i blith anfarwel ros. LOAN GWEN T.

ANERCHIAD I'm cyfaill Mr J. T. Davies (Glan Dulaia). Aber- dar, ar ei nniad mewn,glan briodas AMiSs Mia Rees, Kensington, LIundain, Chwef. 10, 1880. Wrth drpi yn ol ac edrych dros ysgwyddan Blynyddau tai, a myrdd oamgylchiadllu; Canfyddaf drwy y niwl rhwng camrau bywyd, Rhyw ddyfirjn bychan tlws llawn blodaii hyfryd; A rhwng y blodau hyny (fel dan gysgod, Dau angel claerwyn harddwyr) wyf yn caafoa Dwy galon yn ymrodio gyda'u gilydd, Rhwng ceinion hoff-ddeniadol y fro lonydd; Ffrwd ddysglaer o hapusrwydd sy'n tywyau, Fel bywyd haf yn ddylif llawn o'u deutu, Gran uno dymuniadau y ddwy galon O'r braidd yn un mewii cwlwm o brydferthion «Tu debyg ag yr unir blodaa'r maesydd, Mewn perlewygol glwm ynghyd, ■ 0 amryw bêr fêl-aawrlls fryd, Mewa Uanerch deg hyfrydol ar nawn haf ddydd. Ond wedi hyn gwasgarwyd hwynt Gan wyntoedd amgylchiadau, Cydi-hyngddynt a'r gymdeithas gyat Gwooed adwy o flynyddau; Bu grym Morgan g ddyddiau maith At mwg yn celsio'i mygu, A dwndwr Llundaan fawr ei stwr _Yn ceiaio ei dystevvi; Ondelywid su'r gymdeithas gy»t. Yn nhwrf Caerludd yn amlwg, A murmur wnae'r gymdeithaa hon Rhwng peirieint chwyrn Morganwg, Er eryfed amgylchiadan'r byd Mwy ydyw grym gwir gariad, Fe gadd ei brofi lawer pryd, Ond mae'n gorehfygu'n wastad. Er crwydro ac ymddieitbrio Ac er i flwyddau dreiglio, Fe saif yr elfen hon yn un, Ni ymedu er ymado, Daeth angel serch o'r diwedd I gloi dy ddor S'i allwedd, A mynodd ddrwa agored drwy Yr adwy er anrhydedd. Ba lawer gwaitli cyn yma Yn curo am aeorfa, 000 euro heb agoriad waaeto, Nes daeth yn enw Mia. Dwy galon a dau fywyd A unwyd yma 'nghyd, Boed iddynt aerth drwy'r undeh I sathru rhwystrau'r byd; Boed Mia i Glan Dulais Yn gydmar gymhwys goetl) Yn llawn o gy< ymdeimlad A phur rinweddau'r doeth A boed Glan Dulais hefyd I Mia'n briod cun, Fo'n profi mewn gwir ffeithian ■ Fod dau yn well nag un." Boed Uwybrau'r bard i a'i gydmar Yh fwyniant pur a lieda, Yn Hawn o bob hyfrydweh Oddiyma hyd y bedd Yn llwybrau gwynion cariad A llawn o geinion brat;— Yn llwybrau fo'n diweddu MewngwlMd o fythol haf, JJM Boncath. CotDFBTN. .>1.

MR GLADSTONE'S FUTURE INTENTIONS. Mr Gladstone drove with Lord Ro^eBtf? to f Linlitligow on Tuesday, and as the election was on for that couuty there were great calls for the ex-Pcemier to speak. Appearing on the balcony of the Town-hall, Mr Gladstone said he hooed Linlitbgow would do the same as Midlothian had. The Liberals had now to think of the interests and welfare of the country. Armed with the authority of the electors of Midlothian, he betook himself to the performance of the more tranquil, thongh anxious, duties of member of Parliament,eameatly beut on the improvement of the laws and the furtherance of the interests of the empire.

DEATH OF THE LIVELY" MIDSHIP- MITE." The juvenile Pinafore has lost one of her little crew. Of all the delightfully humourous characters in the children's performance of Messrs Gilbert and Sullivan's famous piece at the Opera Comi- que, none excited more genuine fun than little Benedict Tacagni, the pert little midshipmite. His precocious talent had received the heartiest' commendation from the Prince and Princess of Wales, the Duke of Edinbugh, and the Princess Mary of Cambridge. On the last night of the season he was taken ill of acute rheumatism, and the condition of the poor little sufferer rapidly became more serious. His last hours are patheti- cally described. He became delirious towards the last, and in his wanderings he sang snatches of the Pinafore music. He died humming the well-known air, For he is an Englishman." Pinafore, jun., will sail on sadly without the lively midshipmite.

The Swedish screw steamer Trafik, from Stock. holm for Rochester, has, according to a telegram received at Lloyd's, ptoked up in the North Sea a boat with three dead men in it, The bodies were so far deoomposed that the master caused them to be buried in the sea. There were no marks on I the boat; to show IQ wlifrt ship she beloagede

A CATHOLIC FESTIVAL. On the 14th centenary of the birth of St Bene- dict, the founder of the monks of the West a high festival was kept at Monte Cassino, Subiaco, and the Benedictine^ churches of Rome. The Abbey of Monte Cassino aud the village of San Germano beneath had been crammed for days, and not a bed was to be got for love or money. ttunareafi of new ones had been bought to accom. modate the visitors, and the monks had crowded together two and three in each cell to afford addi- tionalllospitality to their guests. A telegram to the Fanfulla says that the concourse of visitors ia immense. The inhabitants of all the neighbour. ing villages are arriving in most varied costumes; entire oaravans of pilgrims with their staves, and preceded by cross-bearers, were climbing the mount chanting litanies. They ascended the great staircase on their knees to enter the ohurch. Numbers of pilgrims slept in the corridors in the monastery. In the morning the procession, led by the Bishop of Vecoli, was so extended that it was impossible for all to enter the church. Mon- sisnor Capecelatro read a discourse developing the theory that St. Benedict had transfused into monachism the ideal of social perfection. At 3 vespers were sung, and the cro -d had increased to such an extent that circulation was almost im. possible.

THE NEW TREATMENT FOR THE CURE OF CAi'1CEH. The Lancet calls marked attention to an import- ant Beries of investigations conducted at the Queen's Hospital, Birmingham, as to a new method in the treatment of cancer, by Mr John Clay, obstetric surgeon to the hospital, and pro- fessor of midwifery at Queen's College. Hitherto this terrible disease has proved incurable by medi- cal treatment but the inquiries and experiments conducted by Mr Clay lead to the belief that by the use of Chian (or Cyprus) turpentine—which he has been the first to use—cancer can be not only arrested, but cured, without a surgical operation. it subsequent experiments should confirm these conclusions, by producis? similar results in other eases,medical science will havecoaferied one of the greatest blessings upon suffering humanity. It will be important, under these circumstances, to make suve that the drug employed is cert^nly I what it professes to Le. As a matter of fact, it is by no means easy to obtain Chian, or Cyprus turpentine. Prohablv there is scarcely any of the true resin in the market ,.t pre-eut, and only druggists \I 1\0 happen to possess a small forirotteu s ore can supply it.. We think it desirable to make this intimation for the sake of the medical practitioners who may be anxious to try the remedy, but who are almost sure to be dis- ap oiuteJ. unless they take more than ordinary measures to ensure accuracy. As Professor Clay stated in his p per, no other terebinth except the Chian has been known, or can be expected to produce the effects which have followed it,? use in his case?. The public should also be cautioned against resorling to the lemedy with- out skilled medical advice and supervision It only remains to ad.l that some of the received descr.pt,ons of TercLiathma Ckia reu Cupna are sof.ulty, Usnt identification of the genuine drug V.1 1 be a. ten led wita more than ordinary difli- culty. It is t.;e gum of a tree growing Stf or 35 ieet in neig: t, and is obtained by cutting cross- rnj8e W t tchet the trunks of the largest trees. Ihe j'ield is very small, 'not exceeding eight or ten ounces for each tree, so thnt it must be obvious that the bulk of the material sold under the designation at 2s or 3s a pound is not genuine. Ica consistency is that of honey, but is more glutinous. The colour is greenish-yellow. It has ail ,?gre- able turpeiitr."a4>dour, combined with the odour of fennel or citron ;,ud ja.-mine. Its t ste is very mf:d. By keeping it resinineg, and loses some of its virtue. The coniferous tu' p^ntines which do not possess its special qualities are usually sold for it."

About 30 feet of the South Quay, Pultney H-hour, has been swept down by the sea. Kitty-one workmen were in the pit at Bois-de- la-Uaie, in the commune of Anderlues, between Charleroi and Mons, when the explosion of fire- damp occurred, and 39 were killed on the spot. The remaining twelve owe their lives to the cir. oumstanoe of their having been engaged at work in a section of the pit between whioh and that part where the explosion oeourrcd there w a au rir- ahaffc'

I PERILOUS POSITION OF A UAKDH'F sieamek. ICE-BOUND IN THE ATLANTIC. On Monday morning the llhiwindda, one of the Cardiff and New York line nf passenger Mat freight steamers, was safely docked in the lloafli Basin in Cardiff, after a very perilous voyagf across the Western Ocean. It apj e irs that the steamer left New York on the 20;h ult., for Car* dilf, with a general cargo and 175 head of cattle. All went well up to the 26th, when in about lat. 46 N., long. 45 W., she suddenly encountered < large field of drift ice and icebergs, no fewer that 100 being visible from the deck at one time. Fot two days and two nights the steamer ploughed her way through, the distance made being fully 1St miles. At last she reached clear water, but not without serious damage, two large holes being knocked in her port and starboard boys, filling the fore com; artment with water, and had it not been for the special construction of the steamer in view of such contingencies, she would have bees unable to proceed on her voyage. The llhiwindda* however, reached her port of destination only one day overdue. Her live stock were landed at tlx cattle sheds in the lioath Bawin in the course of the morning in first-class condition, and are ad* vertised for rale to-day.

SW.\NSEA PUBLIC LIBRA ItY. The ordinary monthly meeting of the tSwansot Public Library Conunutee was held on Monday by informal adjournment from Saturday, the -electioneering business in the adjoining county having engrossed the attention of most of the members of the committee. The chief busineei mentioned in the agenda was the appointment of chief librarian in succession to Mr Lean, who had sent in his resignation. Mr Edward Bath occu- pied the chair, and there were about 20 members present. The first business had reference to the hon. secretary. Mr JAMES STRICK, the hon. Secretary, read a lengthy communication, in the course of which he said that out of consideration for the public interest he v. ould withdraw his resignation of the office which he held until such time as arrange- ments could be completed for the future, and hit services could be dispensed with. To obviate the inconvenience at the Library, he had emptbyed I lad to temporarily attend to the issue of books, and at his {Mr Stride's) request, lioberts had agreed to continue in office to thoroughly induct him into the work. Directly a librarian was ap- pointed he proposed to submit a, LJroposition fOl the proper carrying out of the library d itie% which would relieve tha secretary ef all writing work with the exception of keeping the minutet of the meetings. He did not think that the pro* position to associate the town clerk with him (Mr Strick) in the secretaryship would work. Mr Strick concluded with the remark :— "The whole finance question should be adjusted without further delay, and as great doubt exittt in the minds of the members of the committee air tothecorrectuess of the opinion ofthetownclerkoa the matter.I would.suggestthat the opinion betaken of an authority of known abilitv, on which we might regulate our action." Tfie letter called forth a hot and long discussion, in which some warm remarks were made. Dr. RoGERS contended that the laat repdrt wa misleading, inasmuch as two large amounts wert placed as assets which had no existence, The tows clerk was necessary, because the ether oBicialt were only amateurs." The" amateurs" gave an indignant protest. Mr W. R. SMITH said it uas disgraceful for any gentleman occupying the position of the ex-mayot to make use of such an expression towards a gen. tleman who had devoted so much time to the. duties of the office as Mr Strick had done. He (1\iI: Smith) was Dot going to be '*sat upon bf any gentleman, even if he v. as deputy mayer. Mr J. DKFFKTT FRANCIS I sltouid like to know, sir, the meaning of the word amateur. Are yo. not a mere amateur in anything you hawe takeh ia with the exoeptiotr of your own profession ? Dr RoeERS No, I am nothing but an amateur. Mr FRANCIS And a very good siwcfmen YO*, are. You and the first committee got us into t nice puddle. After further talk, Mr Stfttcc said emphatically be would net work with the town clerk; the com- mittee must either repose oenddenoe in Mm or refuse it. Mr G. B. BROCK proposed that having ftCoo- sidered his resignation, and having kindly con- sented to act again, Mr Strick be reappointed sole hon. sec. Thia was carried unanimously. The committee then proceeded to the appointment of chief libra- riaa. Ninety applications had been teoeived, A aub-oomraittee had selected six of those who had had practical experience in library work. TIle six men, S. E. Thompson, Leeds; David Dickenson, Bretnwioh Elfred Colgrave, Birainftfeam ( Heary Stanton, Salford T. H. Wright, SWokton* on-Tees and George Selkirk, Bristol. These were ^allotted for loud Mr Thompson received 14 votes, and was elected subject to the effect of w personal interview. This concluded the meeting.

COURTSHIP" AT THYTIIEATRB ROYAL Courtship, or the Three Caskets," a new and original comedy, in three acts, by the well-keowa dramatic writer, H. J. Byron, author of Our Boys." was put upon the boards ia admirable style at the Theatre Royal, on Monday evening. The company engaged by Mr Bulwer, the able manager of the Theatre Royal, have prepared their various parts with much care, and the per- formance was all that could have been desired. We may give an outline of the piece. Only one scene is required for three acts, and that scene is the drawing-room of MUlicent Vitian, a young lady who possesses two great attributes—a handsome face and a handsome fortune. She hat three suitors-Edward Grentkarn, a conscientioui country gentleman farmer, who will not compli- ment ladies when they ask it; Claude de Covrcyt a heavy swell, who boasts that none of his family were ever known to work and Phineas Gubbins, a self-made man, who bas acquired a fortune by dealing in nails, and is possessed of a very exten. sive stock of aspirates. To secure the heiress it the aim of the two last-named personages, wht never suppose that they have a powerful rival, and they each in turn ask his advice as to how they can secure the object of their affections. Thf three suitors proceed to woo aud win but Mist Vivian put. them to the test, and states that af soon as she becomes married her fortune will be taken from her. This was a pro. vision of her father's will. This etause in the old gentlemen's testament is toe much for De Courcy, whose affections beoomc cold but Gubbins does not care so much for the young lady's money as for her aristecratia linnidge," and prepares himself to twit Miili- cent dth tbequestioa. "WLat was you before I married you ? But this last patch of ground i. even struck from under Gubbirit feet, for he it informed that MUlicent Vivian has no liueaee to boast of. He theu retires from the scene, lliin Trentham comes forward, and is accepted. A JMV Blatchford, who assisted Miss Vivian to oomoct tbe shceme by which she testedjher lover,turas out to be au uncle of the young lady's, who, ia tura proves to be no heiress after alL and of this Trentham ia very glad, and although no marriage is celebiated on the boards, the audienoe are left to suppose that such a ceremony ultimately taket place. The acting was splendid throughout, anr nothing could have been more amusing than th scene in which Richard Younge, as Gubbim "popped the question." Mies Maude BrcntMm, as MUlicent Vivian, was quite at home, and pt. played much cleverness and artistic jiower; while MrT. Bolton showed a thorough appreciation of the "swell" as Claude de Courcy. The part of Jftrwl baR was taken by Mr L. Harcourt, who appearet to great advantage as the upright and honest man The other characters were well sustained at follows .-—Torn LUford, Mr T. C. Bind loss; Mr Maltino, Mr Frank Sephton Mr Blatchford, Me Arthur Forde Mr Grueby, Mr S. Pranks Jtoftnf 2Vwrij/nn, Miss Laura Lindon; Mrt MCToHm\ M FS F. B. Egan and Watson, Miss Millie Lam* bert.

SIR W. LAWSONANI) THE FALL OF THE BREWERS. On Saturday Sir Wilfrid Lawson, speaking at Keswick in support of Mr David Ainsworth, tht Liberal caudiiiate for West Cumberland, said the Licensed Vict nailers' Defence League had seat dOWII to (.'a; ii.de an agent to prevent his return, and iliey knew the result. The DlIk. of Argyll had luld the Cabinet Ministers they were beginning tc be f und ont. The country had found them onfe All .•-hams were found out in time. Look at tht result of the elections—Liberal victories at Glas- gow, Mane, es er, Salford, aud other places. Ml Cross is frig tened for his life in South-west Lancashire, and I hope he may lose it. (Laughter.) Go to Lee Is, and there you fini Mr Gladstone at the e:<d of ihe poll. (Oheers.J and who was at the ) o t0111? A very wealthy old gentleman, a urtat; ie d of mine, but a polttica* opponent—the second centre of the licensed vic- tuallers, who used year after year to get up in the House of Commons and make the most ridiculous speeches you could imagine against my Permissive 1'" ■ I'oor mwi, he's gone tor ever. (Laughter.) It was a teriTo'- daf" (Laughter.) There was terrible devaftam" thebre era. Fancy my feelings on reading to day of one j-'cai brewer after another topttiimover. (Langhter.l There was a great brewer 111 Warrington. (C eers.J Why do yu cheer V Perhaps you kno v more about Wariin-too than I ';0. but 1 know he "al a very kind old genfltur n, and 1 liked billl very much. lie had a public house in almost every street in Warrington, and he subscribed to a church in • lines; every fjie.t. (Laughter.) I thought he must, the.cfore, be i'fn able r but a gt.od Liberal went to W ri n ton, ^iid poor Sir Gilbert Greenhall has ^one liwe Air W^elhome. (Laughter.) At No;tha .pton then is the tijl of another great beer kii. (Laughter, Theu tiiere Yo.k. When I w L 'e news Ihii morningitalwoà!,¡'Wéf"e an oKi. tit. ,lit Lowther at the foot t e p 11 „ k (G> ea laughter.) I can believe a y ;,in after 'tint ►, nothing ivill sur-ri; e me tha up, hh e<ci week' There is only one cause f r regiV, Vn i I.1 a! i- the his twin brother m Whitehaven lias not -ONCW tk him. (Cheers) j'e p,u e, if he had, ther- have bee i ;otnn chance. You krow iha Mi. .J,arne8. Lowth ;• :,n { Mr George Au u > « l^iederick C'aven t sli Kei.tinck, Adult' ,Ie- General and member of l\vliament for hile* haven, Were theta o greatest obstructive in th" House of Commons. (Laughter.) Mr Benti. ck still alive, and will be for a short time longer. Ai these things ought to encourage you. They eft courage me immensely, aud I never felt so jolly my life. (Cheers.)

MEMOI I!S 7)t'_K0SSUTir. The first vol ume of Kossuth's Memoirs, to pear simultaneously in Knglis Germ*n» ■ Magyar, will Bhow, it is said, that Nai»leoa on summoning him to Paris in 1869, naturalisation nnd a Renatorship, While \'0 these Kosiuth agreed to use his influenoein t i of Fi >ee I'm! Sardinia in the tmi>eji"l*w I wKuehy he inlenuod Maasiiii. Vi»* -S"* L tho i^renoh lUttublieanit.