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JUST --AS ' I AM." -.
JUST --AS I AM." PIT I" MISS BRADDON. S^VHAMBT XXXV.-IL I DO NOT TODKI8«AKD 1 YOU, MORTON." I Encouraged by Sir Everard's kindness, and I itimulated by bints from Lady Frances, Loid 4 Seville apneared at Fairvievv not once but^ jnany 1 llm,es bef«»« i'is sister's long visit came to an end. 4 Pulcie received him graciously, as her El iProther, but the vainest of men could hardly have «f imagined himself peculiarly favoured or chorea ef s»ut from the herd, so evident was the girl s un- it "-Consciousness of his admiration, and calm in- #4^fforence to himself. She only recognised his JV- xistence as Fancy's brother, bhe livedasm wo-ld apart from his, takimr no interest in his w-Hscupationa and amusements. How could two i-fasin'a whose minds were so difierently formed ever be brought into tender or sympathetic rela- tions? Beville might adore Dulcie with a leve- r rent love, looking up to her as his bright i ar- ticular star, but how was Dulcie to let herself Ihk Sown to the level of ayoung man whose billiard _jj4,yiiig was his most intellectual accomplishment', r £ ftud who from October to April spent five days 3(f j>utof the seven following somebody's hounds and jighel for nothing higher or more noble in life than to have a pack of his own to folio v, "If I could but afford to hunt the country," lie jp,tid to his -;is; er ii,itii a *,I kdow they'd all la,5ike me for their M. F. H." m "Oi course they would, dear," answered *iii anees, "and if—if you could marry a nice girl Et th plenty of ready-money, you could tnlce the F next year, I know Sir James Prior is jfl lire! of them." There is only on girl I would give six- e,nco for> anc* sl)e wil1 Lever l1;iVe m(,t" sighed p eville. L dv Fiances began to think he was right, i-r a'cie, who had so loved Morton, never could or W -would stoon to the lo er level of an unintellectual I.- lover, Beville's good looks, Beville's good heart, ■went for nothing with p. girl of highly cultivated mind, to whom intellectual society was a neces- jitv, Lady Frances stayed at Fairview nearly live weeks, Sir Everard seeming always loath to Jet her go, and Dulcie clinging to her with ever increasing affection. She had done much to wiu the girl to temporary forpetfulnes* of her erief, jjbut the grief remained all the Siiffie, an abiding iac^, which no arts of Frances Grange could c:ire. Borrow had set a seal upon the fair young fac?, end had given a new character to Dulcic's girlish be uty. To the eye of Arthur Haldiniond that tpale and pensive face seemed the face of a martyr, anizi(l, to whom intellectual society was a neces- jitv, Lady Frances stayed at Fairview nearly live weeks, Sir Everard seeming always loath to Jet her go, and Dulcie clinging to her with ever increasing affection. She liai done much-to win the girl to temporary forpetfulnes* of her erief, jjbut the grief remained all the Siiffie, an abiding which no arts of Frances Grange could c;ire. Borrow had set a seal upon the fair young fac?, end had given a new character to Dulcic's girlish be uty. To the eye of Arthur Haldiniond that tpale and pensive face seemed the face of a martyr. j .He could just picture such a face, heavenly calm I -amidst the carnage of a Roman amphitheatre, a JL'he day came when Frances protested jthat she 'I .positively must go home. The dear, pntient 15 "Sheik had been shamefully neglected, and his ,'J daughter must not stay away from hiin another | :hour. f But if you suppose you are going to get rid of t tne altogether, Dulcie, you are vastly mistaken, protested Frances, as she kissed her friend, 1 shall ride or drive over to see you three or four i times a week, and I insist upon you driving those Underworked porpoises of yours to Blatchmardean •on the off days. "We are desperate paupers, but I «an give you a cup of tea, and if Sir Everard will Come with you Bon.etimes X shall be ever so ^l*Uy"ou know how little chance there is of that, !panny. He seldom leaves his study now except for a lonely walk in the shrubberies." SI I know be mopes horribly, and that is the <verv way to make a confirmed invalid. You ™htV rouse bin? out of his solitary habits Oulcie. He is so clever--SO superior to any one I -know. It is a shame that e should lead such a hermit's life. Certainly there ,ill kiraly anyone t -witliin twenty miles of Austhorpe fit to associate I With him, unless it be this Mr Haldi.i°n"» who §. rfieems tremendously clever." j "Yes, he is clever and earnest and good. I § *rish my dear father would make a friend of Mm. F Well perhaps he will in time, if he finds that jou like him and are interested in his work. And i how, goodbve, darling but remember it isn t because I am returning to the path of nhal duty 1 lhat you and I are to bfl parted. My life lience- | torward will oscillate betw^pu Blatclimaidean aud I ifairview." 4 The many-coloured month of IViO-Y was drawing ,1 lo a close by this time, Hawthorns whitened the i. Jeoods and edges, and filled the lanes iM^h l>er- I fume. All the gardens were golden with wall- It flowers, and all the woodlan-J glades were b.10 ftvitli wild hyacinths. The cuckoo had become a ■puisance, and theskylark monotonously melodious, | While the too industrious woodpecker creaked and lapped and screwed to a maddening extent in every hollow beach tree. The little rustic world Austhorpe was utterly beautiful in its glory of spring blossoms, shining under sunny skies and gently ruffled by softest east winds but perhaps the village children w ere any the happier for •.all this beauty, or enjoyed themselves at this free ianquet table Nature had,spread for them. For •.all this beauty, or enjoyed themselves at this free ianquet table Nature had,spread for them. For he grown-up people there was ever some cloud of jare that shadowed the vivid colour of the flowers knH i.kpnod the clorv of the sun. ¡Ø- 1LJI'fII Morton had slowly regained health and strength 1n body and mind. It had been a diflicall; and laborious recovery, attended by intense depres- sion of spirits. He came back to life reluctantly, »ike a man who felt that death would have been a bappy escape from a world of trouble. But youth end nature were stronger than the patient's will. The wild deltisions of a fevered brain gradually departed, and left the dreamer face to face with teru reality. Natural sleep refreshed the worn- I -nt frame the prolonged idleness of convalescence i*bilised the over-wrought mind, and before f tie rose-flushed hawthorn bloom had faded Afor- ton was able to pursue the usual tenor of his .ttiidiou. industrious life, During that weary period of recovery, Lizzie Hardmau had shared with Aunt Dora iu all the duties of nurse, attendant, and companion. Upon Lizzie, indeed, had fallen the greater part of the work, for Miss Blake's own health had suffered I from her anxiety about her nephew, and she was I tierself in need of care and rest. But Lizzie was I never tired. She read to Morton for hours, no ,natter how dry or heavy the book he wished to iave read to him. She wrote at his dictation, and f entered heart and soul into all his studies and I plans for the advantage of his fellow-men; was | able to discuss the most abstruse questions of political economy, and flung herself, with all a | "Woman's headlong enthusiasm, into every philan- £ thropic scheme. Her companionship, which I -Seemed more like the camaraderie of a young I 'brother student than the society of a girl, did • tmich to lighten the tedium of that slow conval- Tscence Then she was so staunch and faithful and although she never of her own accord talked i to Morton about Dulcie, she always frankly and | fully answered any questions which he chose to Never, since that afternoon when death seemed r eo near, and recovery so unlikely, had Morton expressed a wish to see Dulcie; but on more than One occasion had he questioned Lizzie about her. "Sir Everard and his daughter are still at Ay3" thorpe, I suppose?" he said, one morning, when Lizzie had laid down her book in order to give liim the cup of strong beef tea which was to be -administered with rigid precision at eleven o clocK #very morning, whether the patient liked it or not. x, "Yes, they are still here." *'Do you ever see her?" "I saw her yesterday coming away from the i afternoon service. The new curate has instituted a daily service at half-past four, you know. He going to make it jfive, I believe, but people « told him it would interfere with five o'clock tea, I ud would never be popular with the ladies, I hich form the chief part of a week-day congre* I ion." I see. And now they go to prayers first, and tea and scandal afterwards. How was Dulcie -•looking when you saw her ?" Pale and grave, and quiet." ^*Not ill, I hope?" "No, I do not know that she was looking ill; iut she looks older and graver than she used to »ok in happier days." Did you think she looked unhappy." "Yes, Morton. I will not tell you anything less than the truth. I am sure that she is very Jinhappy." _,T Poor child, I am very sorry for her. We have **&ch our burden to bear. What must be must Oe." He told his aunt one day when they were alone together that his engagement had been cancelled *t Sir Everard's desire. # "The man must be mad," exclaimed Dora Elake, impetuously. Ctn you, who have known him so long, who r«new him in my father's life-time, imagine no "reason he might have for desiring to break the Engagement ?" asked Morton, watchful of his Fount's countenance. r She remained silent for some moments, with a f ik of trouble iu her expressive face. | What reason could there be—what reason I ung from the past—which- did not exist when I engagement was made?" F He may have yielded weakly to his daughter's .sh for a time, till conscienoe awoke all at once f Mid urged him to forbid our marriage." Conscience ?" 4. Yeg, Aunt Dora, conscience! What but a -Conscientious scruple of some kind, based on a Euilty secret, could constrain him to break hig daughter's heart and mine? B<it; I am fiankful hi:n for having taken the initiative. If he had which forced rise^upon -as jDut; by my own act, have separated myseli i ^°r i!_er t How much harder for me to j.efui ■ to r fother to part us. I ought to, » '• r is the one honourable act of his f ^liss ^ke 0t understand y°u' Norton, faltered I you do, Aunt. Your pale cheek, your l^eaninw rne that you do understand my f tl'U. "yVi ,u have the light of the past to guide ,°u miiot- kn°w much that is hidden from me. | °«urtena y°u do-know that Sir Everard I L Mortnn1VUrciered my father." r ti°r,'ible w H°w °an you allege anything so ► v*,verarfi' c n that man's confession cleared Sir 01 r ever ?■' I ^'I'Peet^jThen in your mind he was the | Murderer until another confessed the say one word, Morton." > ulo\ve, J°U suspected—you knew—and yet you What.e to engage myself to Dulcie >t? -y Power had I to prevent that engage- ■Pk exv th^f°u ,)ad offered yourself to her before I -ft., er'8hed ??Q had 'given her your heart. I had ed other ideas, other hopes. The Whole slJieion« uP°n me as a surprise. As to my M?!'aPelI; of Sir Everard, they were very vacue I |! mere undetinable terror to me, i?1fes,,ionllardly dared own to myself..Vargas 6 L \rest and conviction set those horrible fears To Vargas's confession opened a gulf, as iny I hardly dared to look while Dulcie j • "You wife. Now- ] Rther of^u nofc try to bring disgrace upon the i r1.11' ^0 v &irl you love—for you do love her ( 1. fc?rettoth/n y°U had cea8ed to jf "all knoJto y°u but that which she is to all a lovely and amiable girl, it would I upon her by bringing: a. hideous accusation against I her ia-ttier. What evidence have you to sustain this frightful buspicion? None, or none of a tan- g'.ble natur "God only knows what I shall do," said Mor- 1 t^n. "I speak to you as I would spsak to no one I else, Aunt Dora; for I know tLat you share my I suspicions." f' nly because I knew that Everard Courtenay had been dti "rouged. You furce me to sneak of these things, Morion, to recall a past which were better buried and iol'jotten. You know how fondiy I loved your father, yet I cannot deny that lie dealt falsely and treaclierou^J with Sir Everard Courtenay. Be wise then, Morton. Leave this tad story of the past in the s'adow where it lies, and leave the pmishment of your father's murderer to the Great Avenger." Morton was silent. This charge of falsehood and treachery brought against his father by one who had so deeply loved him was a heavy blow to the son. He knew Dora Blake's utter truth- f dness, 1 er strong sense of justice and he knew that she would not bring such a charge as this against an idolised brother without undeniable evidence. Yet he thought, perhaps, to have been prepared for such a revela- tion. Could lie, at any moment, have supposed that groundless, unprovoked jealousy had made Sir Everatd turn assa sin? Only the belief in his friend's treachery, in a deep irreparable wrong, could have goaded a sane man to s"ch a crime. How far Sir Everard's belief in Walter Biake's guilt might have been justified by the facts, Morton had never asked himself until to-day. One image had ever been present in his mind, excluding every other consideration. The image of his murdered father, cut off in the prime and heyday of life. No more was ssil either by aunt or nephew; but the recollection of that conversation sank deePJ in the young man's mind, and gave a new colour to his thoughts. Had it not been for Lizzie Hardman he would in iall likelihood have relapsed into that state of utter apathy and depression which had been the beginning of his dangerous illness. The mind, brooding perpetually upon one gloomy theme, would have given way. But Lizzie would not allow the convalescent to be idle, She stimulated him in the pursuit of studies which were con- genial to his mind and heart. She so warmly adopted his favourite ideas, so interested herself in his dearest schemes, that she seemed to infuse new vigour and life into the old thoughts, and made the most Utopian plans appear practicable -tnd full of hope. She urged him to publish a pimiphlet \v on compulsory education, a subject which he had taken deeply to heart, and upon which he bad original and peculiar views. She offered to be his amanuensis, as lie was not yet strong enough to bear the fatigue of piuch penmanship. At first he was unwilling to inflict such a task upon her, and douhted his own ability to give free expression to his thoughts in dictation but Lizzie's interest in his work seemed so unaffected, her willingness to help was so sin- cere, that were it only to gratify her, he gave way, and the pamphlet was begun. First, crude ideas were roushly jotted down, then the theme rounded itself in the thinker's mind, and he began with a sentence worthy of Junius. Once begun the work was ea y. Morton lay on his sofa looking out at the lilacs and laburnums, the guelder roses and pink may, and dictating his thoughts in measured sylla- bles, while Lizzie, who was a neat and rapid pen. man, sat at her little table by. one of the windows, far enough from the thinker for him to be almost unconscious of her presence. Do you know, Lizzie, you are more like a sister to me than either of my sisters," Morton said one day. Lizzie was slow to acknowledge this compliment, "lain glad to be useful to you in any way," she said, "for I owe you and yours so much, that it is a happiness to be able to pay the veriest trifle —on account." "Don't be so horribly commercial, Lizzie. You owe us nothing, and need pay us nothing, I know you are Auntie's right hand, and that she Could not get on anyhow without you. But it was not your usefulness I was thinking about when I said you were like a sister to me. An amanuensis or a rC<uler can be got any day at so much an hour. so I am not going to be intensely grateful on that score. What I feel is your companionship, your p )wer of sharing and understanding all my ideas, your perfect sympathy." Tiley were sitting in the twilight after dinner in the drawing-room. Tha two sisters were on the lawn playing a tete-a-tete game of croquet. Aunt Dora was reading by a distant window. Lizzie bent over her work, her face quite hidden in the d m light. "What busy fingers," exclaimed Morton, "I don't think you know what idleness means." I hope before we are many months older you will be busy at Blackford electioneering," said Lizzie, with a laugh. vII a, you really think I ought to stand for B',ackfor(t to the first vacancy ?'' I am sure ;,fit, You are the very man the Blackford people ,\at to represent them. My cousin tells me that old Mr Tilney, the Liberal member, talks of giving up hIS seat. He suffers from chronic asthma, poo* an.^ }s ordered abroad every winter, so he .ught just as well resign his post to a man who cuu be useful to the 4. » Well, if Mr Tilney vacates his 8t^ I will try my luck, Lizzie. I would do as much that out of gratitude for all your goodness to me dui"'nS the last six weeks." CHAPTER XXXVI.-THE MAN CALLED TINKER. The time which Jane Barnard had appointed in her own mind for her return to America had come and gone, and she was still patiently drudging on in Mrs .Tebb's service, and was not one step nearer the end which she had set before herself. She wrote to her husband by every mail, and she wrote much more hopefully than she felt, lest he should lose patience and insist upon her immediate return. Her residence under Mr Jebb's roof had been so far barren of all result. The surgeon talked a great deal, and talked as freely before the Ameri- can nurse as if she had been deaf and dumb but there was no more substance in his talk by the domestic hearth than there had been in the coffee room at the Peacock. He had the air of knowing a great deal—of being able to unfold_ a terrible tale—were he inclined to do so, but his insinua- tions never came to a point. All his suggestions of a secret ended in nods, and shrugs, and lifted eyebrows, and- smothered signs, which, as Mr Tomplin said, might mean anything or nothing. Mrs Barnard was honestly fond of children, and she had attached herself to the youthful Jebbs, although they were by no means perfect specimens of juvenile humanity; yet as the weeks and tnonths dragged on she began to be weary of her exile, her service in a stranger's bou^e, and began to yearn for the sight of her own children. She had made up her mind to leave England before the end of May. She would obtain leave to see the prisoner at Portland before starting, know- ing but too well that this farewell interview would be verily the last, and that she would never see the poor old erring father again, and then she would go to her happy home on the other side of the sea, and confess that she had failed in her mission. If in' the days to come the story of her father's crime and punishment should be made a reproach against her children they must bear their burden as she had borne hers. Every life must have its shadow as well as its sunshine; and if this were a darker shadow than falls upon mo t lives it must be endured with patience and resignation. Jane Barnard told herself that she could do no more. She had fixed the day of her departure, and had given due notice to Mrs Jebb, who piteouBly be- wailed the Joss of one of the few good servants she had ever been: blessed with and now there re- mained but a week of her bondage in a strange land, and she was full of the thought of the hus- band and children at home, and the delight of seeing those dear faces after half a year's absence. Domestic life at the homestead had been un- usually smooth during Jane Barnard's period of service. Polly, the cook, was a good-natured, flighty, gossiping girl, who did all her work in tremendous spurts, and idled prodigiously be- tween whiles. With this Polly Mrs Jebb carried on a continual struggle, which in a woman of stern- er temper would have been actual warfare, but which with plain Mrs Jebb never rose above plaintive remonstrance and tearful complaint. But with Jane Barnard Mrs Jebb never com- plained, and Polly, the cook, declared that Jane managed her mistress. Jane was energetic and business like, met all the petty difficulties of a narrow domestic sphere with calm resolution and perfect temper, and brightened the surgeon's home by her hopeful spirit and never-ceasing industry. It's very hard that when I get a servant who suits me so well she should go to America," sighed Mrs Jebb. And now I have to look about me again, and Austhorpe servants are so bad." Mrs Jebb's looking about consisted generally in making her wants known to the butcher and the baker, and then waiting till Providence should send her some kind of servant, bad, good, or in* different, as the case might be. But if Mrs Jebb had reason to complain cf the shortcomings of female servants, Shafto, for bis part declared that cooks and servants were angelic beings as compared with that peat of society, the out-door man. He was perpetually at war with the man of all work who looked after his horse, cleaned carriage and harness, occasionally drove a gig, and employed his leisure hours in working in the shrubby untidy garden, given over for the the shrubby untidy garden, given over for the most part to gooseberry bushesnd cabbage stalks, which were not fair to look upon, but which were of some use in producing a nondescript vegetable known as'greens, This office in Mr Jebb's household had been filled and refilled many times aunng the surgeon's career, and was apt to be vacated suddenly with storm and tempest, the either a hopeless drunkard or f or perchance a feeble crea- tine who had never touched a horse till he took the situation, and for whom Mr Jebb's too well worked screws | manifested j their contempt by nearly kicking him to death on his first endeavour to valet them. Of late, however, Mr Jebb, like his wife, had been better off in this respect, fhe man who had the care of his stables knew his work and did it il True that he was generally in a maudlin ;f A„ epery night, and that his appearance was state e V y private wardrobe was better adapted punt and his pnVtha]i for a Luraan being. PHe if if ffla nn Mr .Tebb's livery coat and thrust could shuffle on f ancient top boots when his thin legs into a pair oi this required so to disguise oom he had some- handed on from groom ? 2 well-trained thing of the style aud bearing oi a 86" God knows wher9 the rran what he has been doiug all his life, said "but at some time or other he must have D a gentleman's service. He has the stamp P him even in his decay." No one knew where Tinker came from. J inKer was the name by which he insisted upon being known, yet everyone had a rooted idea that it was a feigned name. Charged with want of candour on this subject he argued the question in this W1"^fineteen years ago there was a hoss called Tinker won the Leger, wasn't there ?" he de- manded and the person addressed being usually more or less ignoraut was apt to reply in the dfirmative..9 If Very well, then," answered the groom. II If Finker was a good enough name for him it ought to be good enough for me, didn't it ?" whereupon to one felt able to gainsay him, and as Tinker he was generally accepted and received in that circle >f society in which he was privileged to move. JTq Va# ft /umUmtious penon. and h»<i atma* opinions upon some subjects, but of Vis owii antecedents he said never a word. He had turned up in the stable yard of the Peacock one market day, and had there addressed himself to Mr Jebb, as that gentleman was watching the harnessing of his horse by somewhat unskilled hands. He had heard somehow that Mr Jebb wanted a groom, and offered himself for the place. As to character, well, no, he couldn't give any, he knew no one in those parts. Mr Jebb hesitated. Experience had taught him that a character with a servant is very much like a warran y with a horse, inasmuch as both are worthless. He told the man to call upon him that evening? an(i his last groom having been violently ejected the iiijjht before, leaviug the stable-work on the surgeoti's hands, he took the Waif into his service on trial. to ifyou don't suit you must gd At the end of the week," he said, to which the man Calling him- self Tinker agreed. Tinker did suit, and Tinker stayed. He was' man of curiously exclusive habits, spending all his leisure in a wretched shed next the stable, which Mr Jebb called his harness room. Here in company with his boots and blacking brushes, a colony of empty bottles, and the well worn harness, Tinker devoted his evenings to the perusal of any old newspaper which ho could get hold of. He was not fend of company. When he drank, he drank in the re- tirement cf his o.\n den, and needed not the charm of good con.pany to give flavour to his liquor. The Three Sugar Loaves knew him not. Terhaps he shrank from exhibiting his tattered raiment in such a prosperous tavern. Perhaps he was by nature an,1 inclination a recluse. All went smoothly in the stable. The horses were better groomed than they had been since Mr Jebb had owned them the harness was brighter, the general turn out more creditable; and the surgeon conratnlated himself upon his or. n dis- crimination in having picked up such a servant, and upon his own courage in having taken him "ithout a character, when within a few days of Mrs Barnard's intended departure Mr Jebb made a discovery which brought an appalling alteration in Iiis feeiiijgs to,, ards TinL, The wine cellar at the Homestea J was not a stately vault, nor was it stocked with a valuable collection of- choice wines but poor and dilapi- dated as the cellar was, and small though its con- tents were, Mr Jebb kept the key of it himself, and guarded its treasures with peculiar care. He had a good supply of Bass. and a bin of Higliclere ale, bottled and laid down by himself. He had a dozen or so of port in cise of illness, three or four dozen of sherry to give his friends, and at the end of the cellar, in a little arched recess deep in the old brickwork, he had a snug little stock of spirits, including a dozen of a very particular Scotch whisky which had been sent as a present from a friend at Inver- ness. To make the security of this corner still more secure, Mr .Jebb had built up a barrier of beer in front of the shelf where the whisky re- posed,sothat ill the event of a burglarious intruder forcing his way into the stable the famous Scotch whisky would escape that intruder's attention. With a self-denial that approached the heroic, Mr Jebb had resolved to let the mellowing influence of time soften and improve the spirit before he converted it into toddy. "Well, keep it a year or two. my love," he told his wife. I am not a whisky drinker, and lean afford to wait. It is a nice thing to know one has such good stuff in one's cellar. One rainy afternoon in this last week of May, Mr Jebb returned from his duily round amongst outlying homesteads and distant villages, soaked to the skin, and with all the symptoms of influ- enza. He ordered a fire in the breakfast room, sat in his roomy arm chair shivering, though wood and coals blazed merrily in the big old- fashioned grate. "I'm chilled to the bone, "be explained, "and I don't think anything but a joram of hot spirits and water will Warm lile. Do you know, Emmie, my love, I've a deuced good mind to try that whisky." Why shouldn't you, dear ?" asked dutiful Mrs Jebb. I'm sure I would if I were you. Nobody has a better right to it. 1'1', ring for the kettle while you go to the cellar." Mr Jebb hesitated, and pulled bis whiskers thoughtfully. "I had made up my mind to keep that whiskey two years, and I haven't had it more than six mont: s. It seems weak to break into the dozen." "Not when it is a question of health, Shafto. I'm sure a good tumbler of strong toddy will cure that sliivering of yours." "It isn't the shivering only." said Jebb. "I feel such a depression—I should feel grateful to anyDouy who would blow my brains out." Oh, pray get the whiskey, Shafto. It's dread- ful to hear the father of a family talk so wildly," cried Mrs Jebb, alarmed. Her husband only wanted to be persuaded. He sighed. snuffled a little, felt in his pocket for his key, and went to the cellar. There were no underground cellars at the Home- stead. The repository in which Shafto kept his wine was on a level with the dining-room, kitchens, dairy, apple-room, and various offices. This part of the old farmhouse was roomy enough for a whole retinue of servants. The cellar was low and narrow and dark, a kind of dark passage, under a back staircase. Shafto had provided himself with a lighted candla as he came along, and he now penetrated the sacred vault, There was the neat wall of beer bottles, with their necks pointing downwards, a fortification in front of the whiskey. It was rather troublesome b o have to disturb them before the proper time, but- Mr Jebb felt that nothing less than toddy woulu subjugate an incipient influenza. He moved tliree or four of the bottles gingerly, and peered woulu subjugate an incipient influenza. He moved three or four of the bottles gingerly, and peered into the da '^J recess behind. "A blank, i>y lord." Where the re seals of the whiskey bottles should have ladde.o his eye, he beheld only darkness. He put '!l his hand and felt only emptiness. Then with h,uds that were tremulous with horror, he rapidly cleaT'^ out the range of beer bottles, and made himself zuster of the ruin behind. Seven of the twelve whiskey bottles" Tvere gone. And yet no burglar had invaded the houset nor had the key of the cellar been out of Mr Jebb's possession. He stood with the candlestick in his hand, staring into empty space, utterly at a loss to account for the disappearance of his treasure. Had Mrs Jebb a duplicate key to the cellar, and a secret craving fur ardent spirits? No, he could not so foully wrong the partner of his ■ struggles as to suspect her of such infamy. Was this American nurse a traitor ? Your confidential servant, a superior person, is often a smooth de- ceiver. (To be continued.)
COSfESSlOKS OF A FORGER.
COSfESSlOKS OF A FORGER. William Henry Walter, the notorious forger, since his conviction has spent most of his time in a London prison, and he has made a long con- fession, implicating several individuals in connec. tion with his long list of crimes, which extended over a series of years. Some of the persons in question have, since Walter's incarceration, been brought to justice, partially owing to the infor- mation.he has volunteered, whilst others are still at large, and are, according to the convict's state- ment, among the most daring criminals outside the prison walls. The convict has been interviewed on more than one occasion, through the permission of the Home Secretary, on various points con- nected with his long statement.
IA PLAGUE OF LOCUSTS.
I A PLAGUE OF LOCUSTS. r M. koff, the Russian Minister of the Interior, telegraphs from Astrakhan that he is doing his utmost to extirpate the swarms of locusts which have invaded the province; but that, owing to insufficiency of hands, the plague cannot be effectually stamped out. He adds that quantities of other insects as well as the locusts are injuring the crops. The Goloa publishes a telegram from Kamensk, stating that the locusts have invaded the steppes of the Don, and that the wheat crop is regarded as lost. From Odessa it is reported that fourteen detachments of soldiers are being employed in a general effort to exterminate the Anisoplia Austriaca. The complaints of the ravages of insects are universal throughout the country.
I FALL OF A. CARRIAGE OVER…
FALL OF A. CARRIAGE OVER A PRECIPICE. 'I News has been received from Geneva of a terrible carriage accident on Friday last, on tLe Bete Noire road, between Martignyand Cbamouiii. An Englishman named Rivington, with his wife and three daughters, was travelling by carriage to Chamouni, when the vehicle in which the father and mother were seated was, owing to the shying of the horses, thrown down the precipice. Mrs Eivington was killed and Mr llivington very badly hurt, having both wrists broken, besides suffering severe contusions. Their two daughters, who were following in another carriage, weie witnesses of the accident. Mr llivington was removed to the Hotel Uhate- lard, and a doctor at Geneva was telegraphed for, who arrived late on Saturday night. We are informed that the gentleman who met with the above tccilent is Mr John llivington, of Babbicombe, Torquay, formerly a partner in the firm of Messrs Rivington, publishers, of Waterloo- place, London. Mr John llivington is not con- sidered by the doctors to be in immediate dangbr, and his daughter is progressing favourably.
THE WEATHER AND AGRICULTURE.
THE WEATHER AND AGRI- CULTURE. The Mark Lane Express of Monday says :— The intervals of sunshine have been briefer than could have been desired during the past week, but a steady improvement has nevertheless been going on in the agricultural situation, and the cereal crops baye made satisfactory progress towards maturity. Copious rain has improved the colour ajnd strengthened the growth of wheat on all soils, and if earing is somewhat late, the ears are plentiful, and need only favourable weather during the critical period of the blooming to strengthen the anticipations of a good crop, which are beginning to be more confidently entertained. Barley, especially that sown early; leaves little to be desired. There seems to be good reasons for expecting favourable weather between this and Harvest. 1 he country markets have been very meagrely supplied with home-grow n wheat, and at Mailc Line offerings have been quite on ali insig- mncant scale, sales only being practicable at a reduction of Is per quarter. Anything like acti- vity cannot be looked for as long as the sun shines. Stil, the depression is largely attributable to the liberal imports into London. Business in spring corn has been characterised by some want of animation, but maize has been firmly held for last Monday's full rates.
[No title]
/Mr Eolli, Liberal, and Mr Hanbury, Conserva- tive/have been Dominated for Walliogford. A young lad, named James Miliins^ Peel, re- siding with his parents at No. 10, Military-road, South Shields, has died suddenly. It apnears that the boy was apparently strong and healthy until nine o'clock one night, when he suddenly threw his arms round his mother's body, and expired before medical aid could be obtained. On Satur- day, it is stated, the deceased had been bathing the whole of the day at the Coble Landing, and it iAtbawrhUhia has caused his deatl* I&
Y GOLOFN GYMHEIG .
Y GOLOFN GYMHEIG Dymunir l'n g^bebwyr Cymreig gyfeir;o eu goheb. iaethau, llyfrau ."w hadolygu, &c., fel ycanlyn: -"DAr. yDj) MORGA:, WG, Hirwain, Aberdare."
...--AT EIN GOHEFI WYR.
AT EIN GOHEFI WYR. "Y Grwydraid Cyiltaf.Y Mae y'rhai hyn yo englynion da; otul gydag ychydig mwy o drafferth gallasent fod yn wei..I,. Lied Wan vw cynghimedd" trydedd linen yr engiy.n cyntat. ü-wào- hefyd y diwedd y trydydd englyn. "Y Cardotyn Amddifad.—Darn teimladol, a da Ïawn. l "Y Deigryn. Y mae hwn yn drn gwych eto, er y galiesid nodi bryclieuyu nea dda-a arno, Nid priodol, yn ol ein barn ni, yw g,vyneb a gwynebpryd deigryn. Cofier mai nid rhoddi tramgwydd yw amcan y syhv hwn. Y Llwydrew."—Cvmeradwy, Yr Haul."—Da eto. "Yr Enfys."—Yr ydym yn cymeryd yn gania- taol mai "haul glioys" ddylai fod yn y llinell olaf ond un-nid oedd yn eglur iawn. C'yineradwy.
'¡YR YWEN.
'¡ YR YWEN. COlli'll braff, ganghenog goeden,—a dial Mae'i- fytliol%yrdd ywen; Hon sydd frenines ad lien, 0 lawn urdd wrth lauau hen. Porth Field. i
' "GOREU ARF, ARF DYgG," kc.
"GOREU ARF, ARF DYgG," kc. Da arf, trech n't chledd durfiti-yvr, ac uwch tEi bris nag aur diiin A thywysydd doeth, iesin, Dor i fawd dyr ei hoff fin. TBODTNFAB.
.-1'-"-Y LOSGBELEN.
1' Y LOSGBELEN. Dinystr y losgbelen daena-'n sydyft Aiswydol, fel tirin Ei thwrf, Ow, rhiadra'i than Du, liyllig, cliwydailliii. DEWI Glak)
YR ATHRAW DIWYIV
YR ATHRAW DIWYIV Am enyd dymunaf gysegru, Fy awen yn hwylus a rlnvyda,' I ganrnol un haedda ei bnrchu, Ar pyfrif anrhydedd ei swydd v Sef athiaw llafurus a diwyd, Yr LWIl yn yr hoff Ysgol Sul, Sy'n arwain a dysgu'r ieuenctyd I rodio y cain lwybr cul. Cyd-ddyga â. gwendid y bychan, Yr hwn sydd yn ddyrys a chroes, A dena ei galon yn fuan, I goledd ff yrdd crefydd a moes; A plilana o'i fewn ewyddoriou. Y rhai fyddant ynddo o hyd, Yn gerfiad ar lechau ei galoii- Yn rheol ei fywyd trwy'r byd. Bol) a.mser fe'i gwelir yn brydlon; Yn dypgwyl ei ddosbarth yn nghyd A'r serch sydd yn nghudd yn ei galon, Ddadblvgir yn llonder ei fryd A phan ei cylchynir o bobtn, Gan lu o rai bychain diddysg, Fe'i gwelir fel tad yn eu dysgu, A'i bleser yw bod yn eu mysg. Yn ystod yr wythnos fe chwilia Ddirgelion pur gyfraith ei Dduw, I'w dyfnion feddyhau ymdreiddia Nes cyrhaedd y tyner a'r by v A yna. pan ddaw y Dydd Sabbath, Mae ganddo wybodaeth yn st6r, Yr hon a gyfrana i'w ddosbarth, j ? Yn helaeth o eiriau yr lor. Yn debyg i'r buan naturiol, Yn gwa-gar golenni a g wres, I lu o blanedau cylchynol Bob amser er cvsur a lies; Mae yutau, yr atnraw rhagorol, Yn nghanoi ei ddosbarth ei hun, Yn gwasgar goleuni ysbrydol, Er lies ei ddysgyblion bob un. Mae ef yn cyfranu gwybodaeth Fil gwell na dysgehiiaeth y bvd Un deifl bob celf, a gwvddoriaeth, I'r cysgod tragwyddol yn nghyd: Gwybodaeth am Dduw yn yr Iesu, Yn gwnenthur cyfamod o ras; jir coai pechadur i fyny, O'i gyflwr truenus a chas. A mynych gwna'r athraw gwir dduwiol ^Ymostwng ger gorsedd y nef j kc yno mewn gweddi ddifrifol t At Dduw y dyrchafa ei Jef, Gan eiriol ar ran ei ddysgyblion Ar iddynt yn moreu en boes, Adnabod yr Hwn fu rhwngr lladron, Yn Aberth aros d lyn ar y groes, DISGZBL,
ADGOF.
ADGOF. Nid greddf, ond cyueddf y co' Heria undyn i wrando Yw adgof mad, dyma dant Y fynwes o wir fwyniant; JKTeu uyfr hybel! wefrebydd [" Y cyfri' oil o'r of rydd Y gorphenol 'n ol i iii Yn ddigynwrf ddwg ini, Yn ber iani-n daw boreu oel' I fyny a phwnc f'einioes Hapus fyd fy mebyd mau, 0 gwmpas y del gazn I)a)'N Difyr hyny a wuawn i Hyd lenydd i adioni, Yn blant bach heb belynt byo JrTeb boenau nac un penyd. Haws troi mor yn storm eirjy A dwl ust yn dawel ha, Na liifeiriaut lleferydd— Ei gre' sain mor groy .v sydd! Arweiniol ddeddf yr enaid Y w yn rodd i ddyn o raid; jNfeu dafod hynod difeth Gan y cof, d'wed o bob peth -Pyw A hidla heb byawdledd Yn dawel fel mel i mi Os tyr ar eitha' stori, Drwv wych n6d heb yrndrecb wna Yn fedrus gydag hyfdra e'ddywed helynt Y dvddiau chweg, gudeg gvnt," A llafar cu Uyfr y cof <> Yn y fynud pan fynof. Ail gyfyd fil o gofion Yn y Ueddf a'r Cywair lion, Wedi bod am vstod maith I sylw melus eilwaith, A'r teimlad sydd genad gu Unigol at fynegu Arwydd o hoen nen bruddhat I'r o!wg ar fyr eiliad, Wylo'n hallt a wna'r alltud, Och'neidia, mvfyri»'n fud, Am ei fad geinwlad gu, Yn fyg lie cadd ei fagu Gydag addien rieni Ar y fron yn wr o fri; 'E ddyry view o'r ddaear fawr Yn dirion o'r fad orawr Gwel y llyn, a'r bwth) n balch Eistedd dan y graig astalch A llwyni glas dillynion Y caeau, a'r llwybrau lIon iY A'r hen amser pleseru Gyda'i Ion gyfoedion fu Ag eraill wel yn gorwecJd Is du faen, mewn dystaw feddi A'r dagrau fel perJau pur Hawdd wylo dan ei d(lol,ir. Megys gwlaw yn ddyataw ddaeth Dafnau dw r dyfniad hiraeth. Cwmfcwrch. DEWI GLAN TWBCH.
ANERCHTAD
ANERCHTAD I George Morgan, sef cyntafanedig William a Selina Davies, Bwlcbygwynt, Llanelli, a chwaer Mrs Cadifor. George Morgan, O'r glan, rbo'wn giod-ilr bychan A'r bocliau dibechod; Mor grand" yw'n nghrvd mabandod, Swn y bach yw'r tlysa'n bod. Yr awen dlos a cliwarcua-odlau jr Hyfrydlwys i'r bapa; Hwi o hyd—Via ha! ha Yn ddedwydd mae ei ddada. Hoi, wyr, acw yn rhocian—mae William,; Ei wylio a'i holrain: Mawr yw mSl yr "hammerman" Am ergyd i'w George Morgan. Ilho'wn ergyd i'r hen "organ"-o telua Foliant i'r bach gwiwlan A rho'wn glod i bert drwyn glan A bocbau yr un bychan. William ni cha'dd anwylach,—ni welodd Hen Walia ei dlysach Selina a'i bat a bach Luuiwyd o enwog linach. Y ffedog i ffwrdd a'r ffwclan-ei dad Dyn i fagu'r baban TJchel d'wed, Fy mab bye nan, Cei y gwin a'r bara can." Ydi William wedi dwli ?-ydyw, Yn nghadair y dadi; Fy mab, medd wrth y babi Rhan y tad sydd arnat ti. Hwyrach daw y bach yn ben-godidoic. I dadau yr awen Clodydd ga trwy Walia wen, A rhodia gan Ceridwen." Oes 'addas hynaws i(ido,-o dan nawcI, Aden Ner y byddo Hwn i'w dref a ar ei dro I'r Salem i breswylio. Cwmrl.ydyceirw. IJAMIDDOO.
DIWYDRWYDD.'-I
DIWYDRWYDD. Diwydrwydd sydd fel rhyw flodeuyn arddercbog Yn agor yn brydferth yn nghanoi yr ardd, Mne fel y cain berlyn bach tlws a dysgleiriog- Yn synu golygon treidd.arol y bardd; Pe 'i sugnwn i fyny yn ngherbyd fy awen, Ac edrych dros fryniau mawreddog diri', Pwy welwn yn mhob man yn fy",iog a llawen, Diwydrwydd lion siriol yn uchel ei bri. Diwydrwydd a gododd ryw lu o ddynolryw, Rhai welwyd yn nyfuder diuodeddyn dlawd, I fri ac anrhydedd, nes maent erbyn heddyw Fel dysglaer blanedau ar uchel fryn ffawd Diwydrwydd—ha! eiriol brenines y ddaearÎ Ardderchog, rhagorol dy gymoith wyt ti, Fe waedda bob peth drwy y byd yn feistrolgar, Diwydrwydd Ion siriol sy'n uchel ei bri. Pengam. MEUDWX GWSNT,
. YR YSBRYD. -",'-.
YR YSBRYD. Y-mgilia'r haul i'w wely llaith, Gan roi cymy.lau'r hwyr am dano; A choda'i ben yr olaf waitb, t dd w,eyd yn wanaidd, Noa dawch he" Newidia r r.efoedd nawr ei gweJd" 4.C ysbryd tristweh leinw'r diiaear; Mae cor y goedwig fel y bedd, A'r gwynt yn chwareu tdnau galai e, Alae gwrth ban nos yn euddio'r byd., A chwsg yu cloi'r synwyrau dynol; A dynol ryw sydd nawr i gyd, t tu fewn i leni'r byd yabrydol; t Na! dacw un anncdwydd un neb gysgu'r un amrantiad heDO r t Ond øal cymdeithas iddo'i hun, ii. hel meddyliau drwg a g.vrandom Mae'n clywed pruddaidd awn y gwynf* zxjoby ya udo'u oerllyd_# A'r,,twria* h(n a;itraf hytit, Yn rhifo'i maes ei;¡;ldau bywyd. (Ust! Yr awrlais yii taro un I d-lu 1) vr el! wel! mae'u taro dau o'r glocli, Mor gyflym heda amser ffwrdd; '"JVJae'n a.vr yn ddyfnder nof^ "A'r byd yu cysgu'ii drwm;' Ond beth sy rhwng y nos a fi? Ond beth sy rhwng y nos a fi? Paham mae'n ymlid ffwrdd fy nhwg I v A th roi fJJygad blin I mewn i'm calon ddu? Mae nghalon i fel dyfuder nos Dyfnder eihv ar ddyfnder byth; t Etyb yntau, "Byth! byth!" O, Arglwydd, beth y-v dyn A yw- tywyllwch pruddaidd hwn Yu gyssgou °'r ty wyllwch du, Lie mae g*.lyniou Dtnv v Yn ngherwya iaii a mwg r TJ?t! ust! Y gwynt, ie, SWJI y gwynt Sy'n d^ eyd ei gwyn o gyich y ty Mae Hat!1* heno'i gyd, Yn cy.~su'n b jfuus iawn Fe allai fod ysbrydio?1 noeth VTn tramwy tlwylr tywyl^Ivvc^iWI5• 'Does neb a wyr sawl lleng" Sydd yint'r fynyd lion! (Yr awrlais yn taro un dau tri fl O, amser! amser cymer bwyll, Arafa ciliad, eiliad bach Na, myn'd a fi o hyd, 'l{wyt ti, tua'r byd a ddaw T 'liwyt ti, tua'r byd a ddaw T Y byd a ddaw !—a oes fath le ? Fe codai un o'r ineirw 'n awv, A sefyll ger fy mron !— 'Rvvy'n crynu fel y dail! 4
PBOR YN NHY CORNELIUS.
PBOR YN NHY CORNELIUS. Eang for ydyw amser, a'i gyfuodau Yn llithro a) no roegys cribalTg donau A'r naill ar ol y Hull mewn gwedd ymchwyddol, Ymdorant oil ardraeth y byd tragwyddol: Ac yn mhob cyfuod, ceir fod amgylchiadau, 0 ry w dragwyddol bwys eu canlynia lau. Ac fel mae'r nawfed don vn mhlith v tonau. I Yn dywysoges ar ei chyfeillesau, Ceir eu tywysog hefyd i'r cyfnodan, Yn hwuw cyll y lleill i gyd eu henwau, Sef cyfnod mawr yimvadiad Crist a'i urddas, Er gosod ar y ddaear sail Ei deyrnas Gan agor fforlld trwy'r mur fu'u dkl am oesoeddj Yn gadarn rh«n^ Itiddevon a clietiedloedd, Er mwyn i ffrydiau afon Iachawdwriaeth, Orlifo dros y byd yn ddiwahaniaeth. Nid oedd yr eglwys pan yn gyfyngedig, 0 fewn i waedlyd byrth y cylch Iudde wig, Nl'r Oruchwyliaeth Hen, i gyd ond cysgod, O'r mawredd annhreithadwy oedd i ddyfod. Nid oedd y deml gynt a'i muriau llachar, Ond cysgod gwan o Demi Fawr y ddaear— Nid c,e Id yn hono le i'r Cariad Dtvyfol, Ddadblygu Ei gymeiiad yn brio lol, Ond rhaid oedd cael y by d i gyd yn gyfan, Yn deml i Gariad Duw amlygu'i liunsit Ac weithian, yr holl fyd a'i gyfandiroestd, Un Deml yw,teml fawr yr toll genedloedd; Gwnaed prif-ffordd trwy ganolfur y gwahauiaeth, Er cydra idoti dynion p)b cenedlaeth Ac hanes dydd agoriad y ffordd lydan, Gaiff fod yn destun ein myfyrdod weithian. Y man a ddewiswyd gan Dduw yn fynedfa, O'r cylch bach Inddewig, i holl wledydd llawr, Oedd anedd Cornelius yn nhref Cesarea, Trwy hwnw agorwyd rhyw lydan borth mawt; Mae'n wir i'r porth fod yn gloiedig am oesau, Er cau rhwng yr Iuddew a'r cenedl ddyn; Ond gwawriodd yr adeg i ddryllio ei folltiau, A dadgloi ei gloion gorgedyrn bob un. Tywysog y Bvwyd gyl fwynodd yr allwedd, Agorai y cloion i Pedr ei was- Aur allwedd trysordy Efengyl tansrnefedd, Yr hon a gabolwyd yn gyflawn gras I Ond tra bu yn nghrog wrth ei wregys Iuddewig, Ymgasglodd rhwd rhagtarn am dani yn drwch Gan bylu dyagleirdeb ei gwedd gaboledig, Nes oedd megys gm yn gladdedig dan lwch. Yr oedd y rhwd gymaint, fel bu'n anghearbeidiol I Dduw anfou cenad i waered o'r nef, I'w symnd, trwy arfer y moddion priodol A'r driniaeth i Pedr oedd arw a allref; Ond nid oedd gerwindeb beth newydd i Jonpa, Yn gosp-fan gwas 'styfnig hytiodwyd y dref, A bachgen anufudd oedd Pedr, fel Jonah, Nes iddo gael teimlo pwys cerydd y nef. o Yn wir, proffwydoliaeth oedd holl hanes Jonah, Cyflawnlad yr hon yw ein testyn yn a vr. Gwnai ef gynrychioli'r Apostol yn Joppa, A'r byd gynrychiolid gan Ninefeh fawr Ac fel bu i Jonah ymgrymu ya ufudd.. Ar ol triniaeth at w carchardy y m6r, Bu i Pedr yntau, ar ol caelJlyin gerydd, x mostwng i wneuthur ewyllys yr Ids. A phan y dneth cenhadon Ceaarea, Yn ol gorchymyn angel Nef i Joppa I geisio'r gwr, a rhoddi iddo alwad I draethugeirian Duw i'r dienwaediad, Yr oedd y cfen Iuddewig wedi syrthio Oddiar ei lygaid cyn eu dyfod yno, A pbarod oedd i draethu geiriau'r bywyd. I bawb yn ddiwahaniaeth trwy yr hollfyd. Ac ufuddhaodd i'r gorchymyn nefol, Gan fyned gyda hwynti'r d iith genadol, Ac yn ei feddiant brif drysorau'r nefoedd, Er symud ymaith dlodi y cenedloed 1. Pan ddaeth, yn ol y cyfarwyddyd nefol, I dy Cornelius hael a defosiynol, Caed pvofion amiwa; fod y D yfol Gariad Yn sylwi gyda gwcn ar yr amgylchiad— Y fraich a roddodd fod i'r greadigaeth, A'r IJaw fu'n tynu cynllmriachawdwriaeth, Ddefnyadiodd forthwyl gras ar eingion caiiad. I assio'r dienwaediad a'r enwaediad, A'u gwneud yn un o ran eu cydraddoldeb, 0 flaen yr Hwn sy'n Ilanw tragwyddoldeb; A sefyll yn yr un beitliyna% llefyd, A'r H wn fu yn palmantu ff(>rdd y bywyd- Yn un mewn "uudeb fFydd,a sereliog donau Yn chwyddo dros geulanau eit" calonau, A'r cyfarfyddiad de Iwydd hwii a'u gilydd Yn llanw eu mynwesau a llaWenydd. !'7 Eglurodd PeJr gaeth gyfraith y gwaharddAad I In-ddew neau at y dienwaediad, Ond bod ei fedd I bellach weJi'i arwain Trwy weledigaeth ryfedd y Llen-lliain, I weled nad yw Duw dderbyniwr wyneb, Ond bod pob dyn o'i flaen mewn eydradduldeb; Y lliain oedd yu eglur osod allan Y d 'aear oil i gyd ar raddfa fechan, A'i nouenc obaith iachawdwriaeth I bedwar bmy byd yu ddiwahaniaeth. Ac yiis- i^edr a gododd ar ei draed, Ac r.dgorn aurEfengyl y t ingnefedd Oedd vn ei law, a hwnw'ii goch an waed- Gwaed Aberth Dwyfol, o anfeidrol rinwedrt, A chwythu yn yr ndgorn hwnw wnaeth ■■ t. A'r chwyth yn anadl bywyd i'r cenedfoedd • A'r hyfryd sain, yn fiwsig ysur yr aeth I fyny, nes cynhyrfu nef y nefoedd Acyna Ysbryd Mawr y Bywyd ddaeth i lawr Gan roddi iddynt hwy Ei brefenoldeb! I i A u llwyr fendithio oil a'r fendith fawr A beri yn ei rliin i dragwyddoldeb Yr oedd yr effaith megys dwyfol dân, Yn fflamio ar allorau eu calonau A sw n y fflam esgynai'n beraidd gin O fawl i Dduw y lluoedd o'u geneuan A'r Ysbryd Glan dywalltai nefol ddawn Yn gafod ar ol cafod ar eu penau A thonau cariad Crist, o for yr lawn Ymchwyddent drostynt yn rasiisol ffrydiau, Nes oedd y lie yn nefoedd ynddo'i hun, A phawb o'i fewn yn teimlo'n berffaith dded- .t» wydd; Tra plethent eu caniadau yn gytun Er rhoddi y gogoniant oil i'r Atgiwyd.T. Pwngc pregeth Pedr oedd Crist ac iawlI E cj-q, Yn fywyd i Iuddewon a chenedloedd; A dynali* pwngc fendithir yn mhob oes/r I godi teulu'r cwymp i ffaffr y nefoedfi. Dyrchafu Crist i safle eglur iawn, Ar uchel drostan bir y weinidogaetb, Yw'r niai- foddion bair i'r Ddwyfol ddawn Fendithio gwaith i achub plant marwolaeth Ar arwydd fwrdd efeneyl, enw Crist Yn argraffedig mewu llythrenau gwaedlyd. Yw unig gysur y pechadur trist, Yn nghyd a'i ullig obaith am ei fwwvd. Rhyw ddydd rhyfeddol yn mhlith Cydd:au'r oe's oedd, Oedd dydd decbreund galw y Cenedloed I gorlan Crist, y Bugail mawr ysbrydol, Er derbyn nawdd Ei allu aiuorchfy-ol-, Dydd tori dros derfynau'r maes Iuddewig I ddechreu y cynhauaf mawr Cenedlig Cornelius a'i g feillion, gyda'i dylwyth, Oedd addfed dy wysenau'r ysgub blaeufrwyfch, A'r fraiist o dori'r tywysenau cyntaf, A roed i Pedr ar ddechreu y cynhauaf; d A rhwvmo'r ysgub wnaed i uudeb toiuilad, A chadwyn deirpleth-gobaith, ffyddt a chatfad. r A y Dydaw.nydd nefol Amlygai fod yr ysgub yu dderbyniol. Ha, dyna'r diwrnod y torwyd y gangen ,y.r. wyjlt olewydden ddiffrwythai y tiX Aihimpio I mewn yn y wir Olewydden, i gwneuthur yn fyuiol a hardd gangen lr: A bellach mae'r gangen oedd grin yn cael sugno Or her Olewydden ireidd-der a maeth. Er mwyn idd ei brigau hyfrydol flaguro, A dwyn ffrwyth ysbrydol yn ol Dwyfol chwaeth. Ac er fod gwywfrigau'r grin gangen fel crwydriaid Ar led hyd yn nghyrau eithafol y byd, Mae digon o rin yn y Gwreiddyn bendigaid I roddi lla-vn fywyd i'r brigau i gyd; A chadarn addewid y Duw digelwyddog A da wed y traidd rhiuwedd y Gwreiddyn nes cael Y pellaf o'r brigau i azwedd flodeuog, A r oll i ddwyn ffrwythau nefolaidd yn had Am hyny dymunwn i'r Hwn a, anadlotid Yn nhy y cauw;iad.wir fywyd a bed. 11, Barhau i anadlu yn mhHth y cenedloedd, LN "es peri i'r hollfyd uyfne vid ei II edd; Dymun wn ar iddo gymeryd yn helaeth 0 gyfoeth diderfyn trysordy yr lawn, A i taau-i dlochon y byd heb wabal;laeth, Fel byddo y gwledydd o'r cyfoeth yn llawn. Tywallted gafodau o rin Iachawdwriaeth Yn gyson ar wledydd anffrwythlon y byd. Gan hyfryd ireiddio holl grasdir marwolaeth, Nes pen i w wyneb sirioli yn nghyd Benditlued bob moddion arferir gall ddvnion I ledu y newydd am rin add yr lawn. Nes byddo pob enaid i'r Argl wydJ yn ffyddlori, A r ddaear i gyd o'i ogoniant In llawn. DAFTDD MORGANWG.
THE CARDIFF VOLUNTEERS.
THE CARDIFF VOLUNTEERS. There will be an All Coineri'(Snider rifle) prize meeting on W cduesday, at tl-e Ellst Moors range, Cardiff, The sum of £ 100 is offered in 45 prizes, for the best shooting at 200 and 500 yards. We unoerstandlhat every arrangement has been made to secure the comfort of intending competitors. O&ptam bhackell and Quarter-master Sergeant Jrnce are the hon. secretaries, and to-d y (Mon- day), is the last up >n which they will receive T> len?> I.. reP°rt of the prize competition at Port lalbot, the name of Sergeant John Price, Dowlais, was substituted in the Lord Lieutenant's prize, sectmu stage, for that of Quarter-master Sergeant Price, Cardiff, who attained secoud position.
- SKETCHES OF LIFE IN THE…
SKETCHES OF LIFE IN THE MERTHYR DISTRICT. VI.—STRUGGLES FOR INCORPORA- TION. SPECIALLY CONTEIrUTED.1 Meithyr has long sighed, and sighed in vain, for the honours of incorporation, but now the champions of the movement have vigorously re- newed t'.e struggle under apparently IXlOl happy auspices; hopes of success again animate teir ardour, which remains unquenched beneath a succession of defeats. Foit)t heart never won fair lady," and, of a surety, whatever mny be the merits of the scheme on those points upon which its opponents join issue with the promoters, the latter can never be accused of want of pluck in their endeavours. For a full generation—some 25 or 30 year-s-tliey have been hammering away at the much. vexed question. Tory Governments did not smile upon them, but now that the Liberals are in power they have rallied apainto the attack, and flatter themselves that they II ill shortlv hit the right nail on the head, and so drive it home that Fate will befriend them with the authorities It is now some five-and-twenty years back that, led v Mr W. Smyth, then high-constable of the v Mr W. Smyth, then high-constable of the town ~or* more co,rectly s; eakin. of the Hun- fj-.pj Caerphilly "—supported by Mr George Overton Peter WiH;ams, the first deter- minedonskug^Xnre^nW- W;'S °:"Tfe,d' tjoth and nail, by" v.eponderat,ng .-ower o the great ironmasters, wi* •, ti • V a 0 .refu 0 defeat. Again andag^v the idea was taken up [ with an almost Quixotic e^.1^ u,ltl1 uthe crushing blow came three or four'5 ars aS°» when the Government inquiry, instituted "e presidency of Major Donnelly also proved v °r t\Ve for tlie grip of the iron hand was again fe.% gauritlet so readily thrown down being as rea;. 11) r. taken up with a great fuss about the heavy rating I which must ensue if the prayfcr were granted. It I was made out, in fact, that the king the-petitioners sought must nrove au illustration f>f the yEsnpian fable, an<? hem up. The petitioners argued other .visei that though they could never be satistf # i an inanimate loc.il sovereign whose pa[ ^vould breed contempt in their breasts, j nfo cause to fear the alternative of beingi up by a real live local stork, in- asmuch besought Jove to grant them not an ic ruler, but simply the power to elect: entative from among themselves, who, elf the dignities conferred by the Royal manda t backed by the power of pop lur suffrage, would reflect by his office and re ponsible retinue due honour .ind dignity upon one of the most important centres of mining industry in the kingdom. Luck was, however, against them. 1 erhap-, indeed, the application on that occasion came inopportunely, for a dark shadow of com- mercial depression had fallen upon them. %iid it was certaiiily not a fittin time for the townspeople to launch forth upon any innovation calculated to increase their expenditure. If the Privy Council, with whom the power of veto rested, vacillated in acting upon the report of their Commissioner, tho scale might well have been turned by a sensational advertisement in the London newspapers, which the humanity of the rector of the town dic- tated, soliciting help for the "starvilJ childien of Merthvr, which produced an exclamation from the Duke of Richmond, then head of the Council, that we must be a community of beggars." Whatever the turning point wig-ht have been, the answer came that considering the circumstances of the district their lordships did not see their way to granting the request at present," Though rebuffed for the time being by this untoward issue of the inquiry, the promoters clung to the qualifying terml at present," as pre- senting, at least, a ray of hope for the future. Defeat did not appear to them irretrievable under such circumstances. Emboldened by this con- struction of the message, they have maintained a quiet undercurrent of agitation on the subject ever since. The good offices of the Chamber of Trade were enlisted in the cause, and in the de- liberations of that active public body their views were once more ventilated. They tonnd favour with many members of the local board of health, and from a once doujjhty oppon- ent Mr C. H. James, M.P.—they obtained a tacit understanding of his passive attitude towards them iu future. Mean while the veil of despond- ency has been lifted from the town with the re- starting of the Cyfarthfa Ironworks, and a sudden improvement in trade, which, though less sub- stantial than could be wished, has tended to "1 VA it something of the appearance of its former old self. Those piping tiines, when the Plymouth ? n find Penydarran Works were in fuli swing, have certainly not been revived, nor is there any prospect of such a resuscitation in the exist.ng uncertainty of the staple trades of the district but_ the petitioners feel that the times have so far improved that they mny once again approach the po ers that be with good grace, and without fear at lest of anv poverty- stricken outcry proving their stumbling-block, while local changes have occurred which will, to their thinking, strengthen the effect of their app al. Another memorial has accordingly been got up and sent to London heavily weighted with a kite-like tail of signature?, representing a large and influential proportion of the inhabitants. A deputation proceeds in a few days to enforce it (consisting of Mr George Overton, coroner the Rev. J. Griffith, rector of Merthyr; Mr D. Wil- liams, high constable Mr W. Smyth, and Mr John Plews), who may be relied upon to make the most of their opo reunify when confronted with Mr Mundella, the Vice-President of the Privy Council. Those who know the town will perceive a strong Tory element in this little band of staunch adher, nts to the cause, but it may be relied upon that they are not disposed to be over-nice whether it be a Tory or a Liberal Government to which they are indebted, so long as their end is attained. There is a great deal of human "at.iirA in that sentiment. One may anticipate in what glowing colours such ardent special- pleaders will depict the advantages arising to the town from a charter of incorporation; how they will condemn vith virtuous indignation that anomalous state of things which allows of dozens of petti-fogging little places, dotted here and there over the country, the full enjoyment of the precious privilege, while Merthyr, with its vast area embracing the se-tt of the iron and coal tfaue of South Wales, and its large population of some 50,000 souls, is denied the distinction how they will expatiate upon the beneficial effects of an increase I representation of the people in a town council with power to enforce its own bye-laws, and to administer public finances in an effective manner compared with the somewhat one-horse mode of procedure, attainable bv the modest local board whonowru'e the roost; gl,,AV- t-)ie-i-ii -ceii tiye anorded to local ambition, (which fo vantin when only the empty honour of a seat at the ex isting board is at stake) will boused as an avgu ment appealing to the seutiment of the Priv Council; how the growing importance of th' place as a railway centre, with five lines of rai converging to it, will be made the most of; hov the new develorment of the coal-fields at Tie harris and Merthyr Vale, with the nrospectiv. increase in the rateable value, will be dwelt upon how forcibly the manifest desire of the town t< er itself by the introduction of tramways anc other social conveniences will be maintained; bow earnestly it will be urged that a Mayor invested with the authority of chief magistrate will tnOrE fittingly represeit so important a community, than one simply fillinsr the almost obsolete office of High-constable, and only by courtesy ranking as head of the parish; and finally, bow the deputation will drive home their protestation" by proudly advancing the fact that the town ia well able to hold it9 own in the world's affairs by the proof that during the recent period of de- pression, when their trade was utterly paralysed, there were proportionately fewer bankruptcies and failures here than in any other part of the kingdom. There can be no manner of doubt that they have a strong case on the face of it, and that were it not for au oppositipn, to a certain extent factious, they would, long ere this, have gained the day, nn 1 have been by this time in possession of a full-fledged Mayor and Corporation. As to the office of high constable, exception is not taken in any way to the holders of it, the present hiph constable (Mr David Williams). for example.having devoted himself heart and soul to its duties and responsibilities, and so won the goodwill of his fellow-townsmen by a uniform spirit of liberality in all things which lie has officially dealt with, that he now enjoys the marked distinction of being returned a third time in succession. The inhabitants want a spokesman who II ill i-eprezent them, not by courtesy alone-a sham mayor, ns it were-but who will be de facto the official, autho- r ritative head of the whole parish, sweeping from Dowlais down to Quaker's Yard. Their argument is also convincing that the cons itution of a municipality would open up to successful towns- people honorable positions, in which men would be content to settle down in repose after making their way in life; whereas, as things stand, those who prize such local distinctions are influenced to remove to other places where their aim may be fulfilled. Two cases in point might bp instanced, which t e old inhabitants bear" in mind one, in which a tradesman, Mr Robert Jones, left here for London after attaining a comfortable position in life, and eveiitli-illy be. came Sheriff of the Metropolis and a second, in which another successful man of business, Mr Christopher James, departed for Swansea whiie yet at the meridian of his career, and be- come Mayor of that town. It must be re- membered, too, that Merthyr is a town which has vast interests at stake. Is has been a piace of rapid growtlij and, like most (owns of MI J c^iaracter) became somewhat straggling and ill-ordered until the Sanitary Act compelled at- tention to public affairs, which has led to an in- vestment of close upon LSotlOW 111 improvements, and when the School Hoard ) as accomplished its present programme of opeiations some £ 35,000 will have been st ent.upon the.primary education of the masses. The population is well repi-esented uron the School Board by shrewd men of business; but the Local Loaldis by 110 means a fully repre- sentative body, and it wiil generally Le conceded that fuller confidence would be reposed in the administration of the town's affairs if it were in the hands of double the number of administrators than those at present appointed. Incorporation would numerically increase the executive antLority to that extent, and also, in all probability, have the effect of bringing men of bigii social standing to the front. All things considered, it appears that in many ways the much desired charter would prove a real boon to the place, and there is naturally a stroll" and widespread hot-e that this renewed effort"may not be thwarted by motives of self-interest which do not concern the inhabitants generally,
MAN KILLED lY A TIME GUN.
MAN KILLED lY A TIME GUN. The yacht Gan ion, belonging to Brightlingsea, Esex, was moored in CaLtewater, Plymouth, on oaturday, and one of the crew, Ephraim Masked, was sent ashore to fetch the captain. As the boat passed under the gangway the -1 o'clock gun was fired from the yacht, and the charge caught Maskell about the chest, completely mangling both arms, and blowing open the stomach. Death was instantaneous.
[No title]
Sir Robert Peel (C) and Sir Sydney H. Water low (L) were, on Monday, nominated for Graves end. The Duke of Manchester is to go out to Mel- bourne as a representative oi the British c6muli4blOX6
:: [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.!…
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.! ,<, • THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF A SOCIAL WASTREL, OR THE UPS AND DOWNS OF VAGRANT LIFE. CHAPTER I.—INTRODUCTION—THE EABLY LIFE OF MAUTIN LEONARD COURTENAY, aliai BOW STREET" HOME JEALOUSY-COLLEGF, LIVE- DISGRACE—AN OUTCAST FBOM HOME—DESTITU- TION—TAKE.? TO THE BOAD. That truth is stranger than fiction" has often been exemplified, and never more so than in pages from the history of genuine tramp life. Not since the days of the renowned "Bampfylde Moore Carew, King of the Beggars," has there been a more strange, surprising, and interesting story of a vagrant's chequered career than that wi.ich ap- pertains to the hero of this uari a.t.iv«. Ten vears ago the name of "Low Street" was known iu every vagrant ward and common lodging-house in Eugland and Wales, and the walls of the tramn wards I;e frequented bore testimony to his poetical ability, his splendid caligraphy, and his sarcastic powers of invective against woikhouse authorities The writer of this history had many and special Opportunities of becoming acquainted, not only with the man, but with the story of his life, and can assure the readers of the story that the incidents recorded have either come under his own cognizance, or have been obtained fro-n authentic sources. The hero of this narrative, whom I shall call Martin Leonard Courtenay, was born in a small town in Middlesex, some few miles from the metropolis. He was the only child of his father's first Marriage. a marriage which had Lot been a very lia/^ 0Ufi' Courtenay married, to please his*fa.er» ',e'ress °* a neighbouring estate, and whe.? afc the end ?f th n a year after marriage the v0vM5 wife died, leaving a deformed infant, the huS.bv'1^ scarcely tlought himself bereaved. The youi?^ mo |12r ^een terribly frightened by a huncli-back. han psome months before the child's birth, a. *ler un" gainly infant, as the gossips averred, .Waf the natural consequent thereof. Mr Courv^"ay vainly hoped that the child, deprived of mother's care, would also leave this world but such hopes are generally doomed to be disappointed. As soon as the conventional term of mourning v, as expired, Mr Courtenay married again. This time it was a union of affec- tion, for the lady was his first sweetheart, who, uukuown to Mr Courtenay, had accepted the attentions of another suitor soon after her lover's marriage, but incontinently jilted him v. hen she learned that Mr Courtenay was free again. The child of the first Mrs Courtenay was au eyesore to his step-mother, and when she came to have a son of her own, the fact that Martin was the heir to an entailed estate of her husband's rich uncle, as well as to his own mother's jointure, added to the envy and dislike with which she regarded him. But notwithstanding the wishes of his step-mother, young Martin throve, and what he lacked in bodily grace and symmetry, he possessed in mental abilities. As soon as he was old enough Martin was sent from home to school, whilst his younger brothers were honoured with a governess, and afterwards a tutor, at home. The first vacation Martin spent at home, but every opportunity was taken by his step-mother to instil into the mind of her husband all kinds of fictitious stories of the boy's wayward, if not wicked disposition, so that his father was fain to consent that his after holidays should be spent at school. This, of course, soured the boy's nature, and he grew morose and misanthropic, but his natural abilities being good, his reserved habits resulted in a closer application to stndy than would have been the case had Martin been fond of association with his schoolmates. But ) when it became known that Martin did not go i home at holiday time. and fchnf. hi" "M. oJ &.a" 1-n. uiviucy u as very small in amount, he was set down as a pariah by his more fortunate schoolfello s. When Alartin had turned his eighteenth year, he went to college. His step-mother would have prevented this, but his dead mother's friends began to see how Martin was being treated at home, and threatened an ai peal to Chance, y on his behalf. At this period Mr Courtenay was surprised to find that a complete revulsion seemed to have taken place in the feelings of his wife towards her step-son. She urged that young Martin ought to be well supplied with money at college, as the prospective heir to a large estate, .tier husband began to think she was changing her opinions with regard to her step-son, but such was not the case. However, as usual, she carried her point, and the result was just as she imagined it would be. Martin, as the possessor of a good college income, became the centre of attraction to the more reckless spirits of his college, and his escapades becoming more and more daring and vicious, he was at length expelled. Ihis was just what his vile step-mother had anticipated it was the fruition of ail her hopes. Sne used all the powers of her influence upon her husband to induce him to cast off his first- born son, and she too easily succeeded, Mr Courtenay turned Martin penniless out of doors declaring that the money inherited from his mother would not suffice to pay for his education, tO Ijomdate Ins college debts. The rich uncle, too, was induced to cut off the entail of the estate that would have been Martin's at his death, and to make a will leaving it to his half-brother. What was Martin to do in such a predicament? For a few days he subsisted on his watch, rW* &c., spending in little more tlisn a week what would have kept him for many weeks had lie at once adopted a mode of living in consonance with his resources. Then his siare clothes were sacrificed, and when his pockets were nearly emuty, be tried to borrow from some of his College friends, but found they did not know bim as an outcast from home, only as the heir to a large estate. I Wlien at ler,fir^h his money was all gone, and he had nothing more he could seli; driven forth into the streets by an inexorable landlady—Martin Leonard—he dropped his paternal appellatiod t. maue ms ursi acquaintance with vagrant life. H< g had been wandering about the docks all "day vainly seeking a working passage to.Ameijea, oi some British colo y. But the captains he appliet p to shook their heals at his apwar;lnce-lie wa., e not cut out for work. Besides his deformity, hii I white hands showed that he never bad worked v Iu the dusk of a warm summer's evening he sal down in the porch doorway of a large warehouse, e and was found at midnight by a policeman, wht rudely put an end to that steep which is the besl ) friend of the wretched. Hit," answer to the police- j man's inquiries satisfied the "llan in biue "that he was not a suspicious character. I But why didn't you go to ona of the night refuges ? Surely, even to you, that would be better than sleeping out like this." Martin was profoundly ignorant of the existence of night refuges, and the cons able proceeded to enlighten him upon the subject. Next evenir.tr after another weary quest in search of a good- natured captain, he inquired his way to the near- est workhouse, and was soon ushered into a room where sat some thirty members of the genus tramp. lo say that Martin <vas amused, as well as somewhat disgusted, would not pourtray his feelings on making the acquaintance of a set of men with whom he was shortly to fraternise he was filled with surprise and astonishment. His appearance was sufficient to make him the butt of the coarse wit of some of his brethren in adversity, but Martin had a courageous soul in his small body like most dwarf., lIe was very strong, and he had learnt fisticuffs at school. One lout of a fellow, who made himself especially obnoxious and nasty in his remarks, was pro. ceeding to pull the new comer about, to show off his paces,' as he averred. Martin's blood was roused, and in a twinkling the fellow measured his length on the floor. Of course there was nothing for it but to fight, and Martin" slogged hi- man proper," as the others said. Then he was left alone, as being quite equal to taking his own part. Presently the tramps' supper was brought in—half a pound of bread—and then all were marched into the dormitory. Here for three or four hours such conversation as tramps delight in was carried on. In the next bed to Martin lay a shock-headed youth, carrying on a lively conversation with one still younger than himself. Where've you be m to-d.ty, Jei-ry ? I didn't see you in the Yard." [tuun- Y ar^i, St. James's-street. wh. re so .p is every week-day given to the poor.] "No, I went out with some Volunteer chaos to the Heath, and got a good tuck-iu after they'd done di; n?r. How did you get ou '"Oh pretty well, considenn'. I had a tidy dinner from a working-chap, and ihen went to the Yard." "Did old 'Spotted Face' know you again ?' "Of course be di.i, but there were'nt many there, so he let me in." Who did you see ?" Oh There was Carroty Ned and his gal, and "Snip," wbot you and me 'shicered'down in Devonshire." Ho v don* he look?" "Who, Snip? Oh! He's game enough now, I specs; lie was talkin' verv bi; about w hat he could do with a 'stiff You know he writes a 'spiffin' fist.' He wants somebody to go with him up into the North, as knows the lay of the country." "I shollld'nt mind that job, if he d keep ILe a doin' nothin' but pilotill, him about." Lut you'd have to carry the stiffs and that s a game I'd rather not trv '• All t hnt you wasn't bom 'on the road' Lke me. i' care calK -;a; me- 113 on,y a drae if Alartin was as* misheci, out, m-re so as he eauelit fragments of the conversat.on carried on at t' e l,'m; "I V°. th, b.noke to-morrow," said a voice with an unmistakable Hibernian accenl. "It's ,?fn aw.fulL Place. What with the endicity and the 'plain toggery chaps,'aud the earamy houses, London's gettin' a A ful hot. So I'm off down country to-m,,rrow.- AVI-icii way Oh I don't know ye." Do you want a chum ?" Not me when I'm alone I've only myself to keep. I can go where I like, stop when I like, and have no bother about who has the best of a 1 cant' when I get it. Besides, every chap I've had always turned lazy, a id wouldn't call so long as they could get me to doit." > Martin listened eagerly to it alLatiLitiltiobecaine acquainted, theoretically at least, with many of the mysteries of tramp life. lie heard one fellow remark that lie was tired of "the road," and in- tended next morning to start for Liverpool. Why shouldn t he do the same 1 Surely he could man 'ge to find a workhouse at the end of each day B journey Whilst revolving this proposition in hismmd, be fell asleep. Next morning Mar Un hif k,1 w P » Pound of oakum in return for his breakfast, or to go awav without work or breakfast, if he pleased. A good-natured old tramp helped Martin to tease the rope, and when they were leaving, proposed that Martin should accompany him "on the road." Our hero's curiosity had been roused by the tales of tramp life he had heard, and he consented to go on foumfe tlo b^wttdsiued*ji tlo bk canti-UALi
--,u( NOTES IS THE HOUSE OF…
u ( NOTES IS THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.. I (DY A WELSH MEMBER.) LONDON, Saturday.—Mr Bradla,gh has been once more in the ascendant. The free lances I telow the gangway on the Conservative side, Sir jjVummond Wolff, Lord Iiaudolph Churchill, and Mr Crcs^t, who in their reckless eagerness tor a fray with the Zj'beial Government, escaped at once fto:n the liauag of their natural leaders, and s: owed themselves so -?ady to rush in where wiser men feared to treau, have involved the House in a most discreditable coldest, in which it is equally difficult to advance or re^eft" with. out loss of dignity. There are men on that side, no doubt, who are moved by sin' cere, if mistaken, religious feeling. Belt it hard to acquit some of theoi of using religious prejudice as a cover for party attack. And it was the conviction of this, no doubt, that inove.1 iklr Bright to such scathing scorn in his great speech on Monday. Until he rose, notwith- standing the excited expectation which crammed every corner of the House with listeners, the debate had been singularly dull. Mr Labouchere performed his part with judgment and tact, but without any attempt at eloquence, and then the matter fell into the hands of the lawyers. The elaborate legal discussion, in which Sir Hardinge Uilfard and Sir Henry James and others engaged, as is often the case, left. the ordinary lay mind in a state of rather greater bewilderment than before. To own the truth, those two learned gentlemen are lawyers rather 1han statesmen and, to use a phrase of Sir James Graham, did not succeed in raising the question out otnisiprius. But when the member for Birmingham got up, the I scene changed. The first part of his speech %i as a quiet recital of facts, but towards the end he flamed up into a burst of indignant eloquence, be. neath which the Tory benches fairly writhed. It may be doubted, indeed, whether it was not in some parts rather too severe, in so far, at any rate, as it was calculated to exasperate rather than conciliate. However, it is not easy to conciliate such irreconcilables as for tLe most part tenant the Conservative benches. Tuesday's ad. journed debate began wi h Mr Newdegate, a thoroughly houest man, but a most dreary and discursive speaker. He emptied the House, i wandered so w ide of t e mark that even the Spe 'V f' Wll° *S remarkably Pat»e"fc and long- Bufferiu- W'?S to interpose, and say that he rpa.ll v D°k see any relation in what he was savim? to %h Jnatter before the House. It had been arranged t>^ °?° f tbe leadin& Noncon- foi mists in the Hous^ ''ext • but Mr Gladstone sprang to bis /eet, Alio, m a compara- tively thin House, deliveiJod one of ,tl e most wonderful and masterly spee</1,es that e*er even from his lips. He was stud;<s'y caiu 1 and moderate, but he covered the whole ground, st dealing with the legal question, fairjy beating- the lawyers at their own weapons, and then passing to the constitutional and historical aspect of the case with an ea<'e aud a completeness which extorted admiration even from his most resolute opponents. Ihen the debate became languid and miscella- neous, and was, perhaps, puruosely prolonged to give time for a large number of members who were attending a great reception of the Duke of Devonshire, to return to the House, The division took most people by surprise. To the last moment the Liberals expected to win, though by a small majority, and when it was found that Sir Har- dinge Giffard's amendment had been carried by a majority of 25, the Tories became fairly frantic, and yelled and cheered, and waved their hats in such a fashion as has liardly ever before been witnessed in the House of Commons. But one would think that all but the wildest sven of them must have been somewhat sobered jy the extraordinary scene enacted on the follow- ng day. It is not necessary to describe it. I, I iyxmute ana graphic accounts of it have reached every house and cottage in the country. One thing is certain, that the only person who has gained by the Tory tactics is Mr Bradlaugh himself. He has by the hands of Conservatives been lifted to the highest pinnacle of notoriety,at least, if not of popularity. His publications are being sold with unexampled rapidity. His doctrines have gained a publicity for which he had himself been labour- ing in vain for 20 years. And what is more, a widespread sympathy has been awakened in his favour. All who heard him speak on Wednesday, even the most bitter of his Tory opponents, are obliged to acknowledge that he acquitted himself of a most difficult task with singular ability, tact, and moderation, and all this has tended greatly to add to the prestige of his name. There are also iiiatiy who, beginning at least with very little sympathy with his views, are driven to his side by that kind of sentiment which prompts men to espouse the cause of what they deem the weak ag inst the strong, of one in- dividual fighting an unequal battle wi h a power- ful body, and who may end by looking with far less rcpugnance than they otherwise would have done even upon his doctrines. It is certain that amid the large crowd that thronged Westminster Hall on Friday to witness his entrance into the House, by far the larger number loudly cheered him as though he were a hero and a martyr. It is very unfortunate that some excellent men in the House have permitted their personal dislike of the man and of his views to blind them to the peril to which a great principle for which they and their forefathers have been contending through cen- turies of persecution is expose 1, uë principle that we have no right as a condition of admitting a man to the enjoyment of his civil.and political rights to take into account his private views on religious subjects.
_------ ----_; THE BANKRUPTCY…
THE BANKRUPTCY OF MONSIG. [ ( HOIt OA PEL. S!n Saturday the case of Monsignor Canel whicn was heard on Friday, was a^ain before Mr • Registrar Murray, when the proofs of debts ad- mitteil were calculated, and the court appointed Wednesday the 29th July, for the bankrupt to ) pass his public examination. The debts proved 5 amounted to £10,914, and of that sum Mrs Sarah ■ Dillon, a widow, who tendered a proof for 25,923, was admitted for £ 3,848, and the re- mainder stood over for investigation. 1 he proofs ill favour of Mr Erne"t being appointed trustee exceeded £ 7,000, and iN I r T. if Watkin was named solicitor for the conduct of the proceedings. In the course of the long inves- tigation on Iriday Mrs Dillon said her advances were loans and not gifts, aud that lloman Catho- lic ladies, when they advanced money, never took acknowledgments from their priests. Monsignor oatJ?.«aid the advances were not B lSt'n The money had been applied to yf'C Xinive,r81tv, of which he was rector, ana to ot. Anne s Home, It was urfrivl nn Friday by Mr D. T. Miller, for creditors, that the proof should be rejected, but Mr Registrar Murray admitted it for the sum mentioned, and appointed the public examination fur the 2Sth of next month.
EXPERIENCES OF A HYDROPHOBIA…
EXPERIENCES OF A HYDRO- PHOBIA PATIEI'T. A young man has died at Edinburgh Infirmary from hydrophobia. It took two men to hold him on the road to the place. When in bed he rave™ bit the bedclothes and tore them with his teeth Attempts were made by the injection of chlo o- form and chloral to mitigate the agonies of the patient, as also to sustain his strength by injecting cream r.nd brandy. At times duriIS3 !^naw,ef» rtCTe consciousness, and in these lucid intervals he repeatedly warned his atten- dants to keep away from him while he was in a fit, as he was then moved by an uncontrollable desire to bite everything- and everybody wiiJiin reach, adding that when he felt another ntt,ack was coming on his only wish was that his suffer- ii should be put an end to. Tow ards midnight it became aprarent that the exhausting effect of the spasms was rapidly telling upon his strength s.n 1 after this he became quieter, sinking gradu- aHy, though still occasionally thrown into ctnvul- 8ions till four o clock in the morning, wheu deaiJi took place.
-, "ROBBERY"byTCLERGYMAK --
"ROBBERY"byTCLERGYMAK At the Marlborough-street police-court the Rev George ii Murray, described as of no boiiie, a ,cliarSe<i with stealing f n t a cona',ctor's baton, of the value of £ 20, the property of Mr Ba ton M'Guc- ?f C6' Maida-vale. Mr >■ u stated that he knew the prisoner when he was a student at Trinity College, Dublin. i^ast year the prisoner visited him several times in .rark-street, Giosvenor-square. A conductor's baton, which was presented to him in Dublin by some of his former pupils, was left on the table in a case in July last year. He (prosecutor) went to Paris en July 2ti, returned on August 2, and missed the baton from the case in wh cii it was kept, the case remaining on the table. Joseph Kay, assistant to Mr Harrison of 21* Wardour-etreet, said the baton was pledged in +1,1 name of Dnggan for i'3 5s. The orison* the police that he intended to re-'eem tl.« K ♦ and return it to Mr M'Guckith- t) bat°n d'unk at the time that he scarcelv Ww** f° was doing and that he to ,k f L i what he the intention of returning it. TI,? W1^J he would plead guilty L i prisoner said Wo i 51 ?" "e had been very unfor- him imVo a good career opened before w: i t J; Guckin having sakf he did not press tne case with seventy, the prisoner was remanded.
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A case or aggravated assault came before the oalop connty magistrates on Saturday, when 1 ho mas Jfeier Everall, innkeeper, charged Ed- mund Parr with having savagely attacked him with a ricling-whip. It appeared that cerzaiii let,& ters relating to an improper intimacy bet*eP„ his wife and plaintiff came into the ,uL.i i defendant, who thereujton rode over V bouse with the object of demand^ Lve'aH8 tion. Plaintiff was at tea wiih v, 8 ifn e?Pla,,a* and offered defendant housekeeper, accepted. He then endJ^LJ# f^' winch he he^s^k' him h\fff<>^nbe^gCOu,n: ssnr^*2^ -iS cenfi^]1 "U f! £ 5° a.nd an°ther of £ 200 being ac- to imrPtX P irtlfB hold l:iSh positions in the and the case has caused great excitement
l!WWI=, ICARDIFF BOAIK]) OF…
l !WWI =, I CARDIFF BOAIK]) OF GUARDIANS There wns Again a good attendance of guardian r at the weekly mcetb g on Saturday. Al i- C. W l>iiv.L Piesided. The master of the woikhousi reported tn £ i there i;>l been during the weel 38 admissions, 44 discharges, leaving 378 in th< house, an increase of 21 on the correspondinj week of last year. Vagrants rei;°ved 46 cor responding week 51.—Mr Pees Enocii rose tc spe k to a motion of which he had given noticfl That all resolutions of the Board of Guardiani relating to the erection of a wall round the ground and the premises at Ely Schools, including th< additional land about being purci^ed, be reo scinded." This matter he said had been beforg the board that day week, at the fag end of t. meeting, on the report of tbe School Visiting Committee, when there were but few guardiani present, and when put to the vote the guardiani were seen to be so equally divided in;opinion, that the resolution was carried by the casting vote of the chairman. The erection of the all proposed at a cjst of over £ 600, involved unnece-sarj expenditure. In his opinion, however, tLe whoh scheme was from the beginning erroneous, and instead of buying the waste piece of land as tin guardians proposed to do, lie would have preferred to see a bake-house and premises erected, where the boys might be brought up to a trade, or a block ship, where they might be (rained for the navy, lae value of the wall would be a per. manent rental of.Cl per week, lather than have it,he.*uggested that two or three men might be put to look after the boys a hedge would be not only chea: er out better than a wall.—Mr Wrn. Lewis secouded the motion.*?This wall would be round the property the guai d'ai is liad not yet purchased and he hoped the guardians would not for < ne morent entertain such an idea. He had inspected the hedge spoken of by the chairman, and a more formidable hedge he never saw. When it got out of order had they not a gardener to attend to it ? Here, at L, ly Schools, the guavdiane were increasing expenses which were being decreased at other places, for eminent medical authorities had expressed them- selves as strongly opposed to massing children together. In fact the guardians conducted them- selves in a slip-shod mnnner at present,—Wr For- rest, who replied, pointed out that it was neces- sary to apply for sanction to borrow the money required for the erection of a wall, just as it was necessary to apply for sanction to borrow money for the purchase of 1. nd. The resolution that a wall should be built was arrived at at a meeting of the Ely Schools Visiting Committee, held on the 13th May, when there were present—Mr Barry, Mi Rees Enoc\ Air T. rassett, Mr Ferrier, Mt David, Mr Hepburn, Mr Thomas Williams, and himself. The committee knew perfectly weU tint the erection of a boundary wall would entail heavy expense, but they thought it would be the cheapest in the end, and uould prevent the boyf and women getting out, ITe thought it was rather childish for valuable time to be wasted in recon. sidering questions already decided.—The Kev, Vincent Saulez, and Dr. F. G. Evans, spoke against the motion made by Mr Reec Enoch. Dr. Lewis said he did not think a n feet wall necessary. The east and west sides had very good fences already, and for the southern boun- dary he suggested one of Brown and Comlany's "unclimhable" iron railings, which could be had for 68 per yard. He objected to the dead wall as making the place more like a prison thnn an insti- littion for the education ond training of children, fnr the J?«ardlans stood in loco parentis.— Mr "N ° kery did not think the guardians should gf to tliPM ense at present, when they had so much expensive v. ^"1 a!™Wy. Fortf e motk* there voted Mt, "!Si:?^acobsl» ^e;vbery, J. Williams, there \oted Mb 'lltam Lewis, and Dr. Lewis! Le. s Enoch, Yv. -,ted, Messrs Plain, fBassett. r v V« le7' Moore. T- Williamsl Atr« T? Va w'^aU errier, Wride, Forrest, sUf'nrJ ?ie,?e' r Mr Enoch's motion lieadford, the Chairman.. -rf ♦!—. was therefore lost. The recom.. S visiting committee, that meters shv ? ?S*d V? measure the qu ntiiy of water pass.. Vn the fire supply pipes, was adopted. The )vo,i0,ri5* tenders were accepted tinned meat and E. John and Co. wines and spirits, W. J#ntA Canton boots and shoes, Kic'ney drapery, Owi Bird flannel, E. Moses leather, H. V, Davies f drugs. Williamson funerals, Palmer out-doo# grocery, town-E. John Roath-Davies; cheeet and butter, Hibbert. The suggestion of the com. mittee that the day of meeting should be altered from Saturday to Wednesday, 1 p.m. to be the time fixed for the commencement of public busi. ness, was deferred for three weeks.
---THE CARDIFF FOOTBALL CLUB.
THE CARDIFF FOOTBALL CLUB. ATHLETIC SPORTS. The Cardiff Football Club held their fifth opeit annual (amateur) athletic meeting in the Cardiff Arms Park. on Saturday afternoon, when there was a pretty fair attendance of the general pub- lic, an attendance, however, which, had it not been for the somewhat threatening aspect of the weather, would have been much larger. The committee of management was comprise! at follows :-Messrs C. Cooper, B. E. Girling, J. A. Jones, \V G. Jones, B. B. Mann, A. R. Mac. donald, W. D. Phillips, F, Perry, W. 1'erch, jun., J. G. Stotbert, and E. G. Saunders. Their arrangements proved most effective-& really pleasant gathering being clie resiilt. Mr S. Ash- crott acted as starter, Mr C. Herbert as referee iin i timekeeper; Messrs E. W. Jones and T. S. D. Selby were judges, and Mr A. D. Ashford adjudicated in the walking matches, Air E. D. Thomas and Mr H. Treatt were the honorary secretaries. Prizes to the value of C60 wert. competed for, and an efficient band enlivened the proceedings at intervals throughout the aftemooc. Ihe want of a track, of course, interfered very considerably with the bicjciing, and several showers having fallen, the roped-in ground wag somewhat heavy-going. Nevertheless, the riding- i >• as fair, and the running really excellent. The first event was the competition for place kick at go;<l two kicks at goal; first prize value £1. A. U. Macdonald won, with F. Hyb^rt, of Llanelly F.C., second. The next was the drop kick foe distance prize of similar value, and two kicka allowe I. H. F. D. Sewell sent the ball furthest, 139 feet E. C. Saunders, second furthest, at 136. Then there came the 100 yards flat race, restricted to members of the club. The first prize in this was the president, Lieut.-Col. Hill's, cup, and all the men were on the scratch. Amongst those who ran in the first heat 0 were G. J. Stothert, A. Cross, W. D. Phillips, and J. Jonker. Phillips 1st, Cross 2nd j time 11.^ sees, In the second heat ihfity competed F. Perry, H. F. D. Se ell, and E. C. Saunders. Sewell 1st, Perry 2nd time 113- sees. In the tl.irH lionf. thara ran W. heat ihfity competed F. Perry, H. F. D. Se ell, and E. C. Saunders. Sewell 1st, Perry 2nd time III sees. In the tl.irH lionf. thara ran w Perch, junior, W. B. Norton, and W. W. Howells. Perch 1st and Norton 2nd time 111 sec. The fiual heat was won by W. Perch, Phillips coming in second, and,Norton thiid time lessees. All the men ran well, and as the com- petition was close, and the president's cnp a cove ed prize, considerable interest was manifested. There was a (Siie-n jl<* walking race, open to gentlemen amateurs. Pr'fe value £ 3 2nd prize value £ L Ihe following entered :-J. A. Jones, S. E. • Bayn ;am, Newport C.A. and F.C.. W. jl. Waf kin*, and L. Williams. Jones .was followed iff other,Pdrn,a r^PeC,.tful i]is': nce h.V Baynham the others dropped out Time, 7 mins. 58 sees. ,WJS! a °"S mile kkycle race, in which there competed for a first prize of 24, and a second prize o w V' J"nes. 15 :yartis start, T. Rate, 30 yards, \V L. 1 owell (Monmouth), 80 yards, and A. IT, Harris 60 yards. Harris won on a Cambrian machine-made _by the Messrs Morris Brothers, of Pontypridd; time, 3 mins 59 sees. Pcwell was the second man. This event, as well as the next. was open to gentlemen amateurs. 150 yards' hurdle race — 1st prize £ 4, 2nd £ 1 10s—1, G. Rosser 2, H, W. G wynn; 3, F. Phillips, Newport. Time, 191 sees. Nine members of the club competed in the 440 yards flat race—1st prize v due j32, 3n 1 value 10s 6d. F. Perch reached the tape first, in 55^ sees. • he had 20 yards start accorded bim. F, Perrv th« second man had 19 yards. The {Kile jump was also open to gentlemen amateurs. The fol- lowing comneted T. Lewis (Llamshen C O /w of tlfe r' i Wf t r.r °re declar*d the winner of the pnze, value £ 1 10s. The 120 yards flat race (open) was run off in four heats, the first and second in each competing in the final-let prize value C5, 2nd JL2. In the first l' £ atT> tiler0 ran J* J* Woods, 3 yards: 'rl ISJor;OT1' 3 y"11"1'8 w- Rogers, 5^ yards; A. 1. Haddock, 6 yards. Woods 1st, Rogers 2nd. Time 133 sees. The second heat was on by A. Cross, 2 yards, and W. S. Jones, 8 yards, was second. Time 14 sees. The third heat was won by W. Perch, 4 yards start G. Rosser Ponty- mister, the scratch man, came in second. Time 12secs. There u ere six other competitors. In the fourth heat F. Phillips. N.C.A., who had 3 yards start, came in first, and C. E. James, with 10 yards start, second. The final resulted as fol. tj S t ll0SSer> 2lul i •l-'Dies, 3rd. lime lj^secs. lerch, who appeared to be in splendid form, was loudly applauded. Tliree- -quarter mile steeplechase. 1st prize E4, 2nd Cl 10s. 15 jumps. Eight competed. Roberts, 15 yarda at irt., led after theifirst Jap, \vith l'erch,who had 30 yards, in close attendance. Roberts was first over the hurdles, but Perch caught him in the running and won a splendid race by a couple of yards. Time 3 min. 53 sec. Half-mile club race-h" prize value £ 2, 2nd JE1. There ran li. Periy, who had 15 yarda' atart: J. A. Jones, 20 yards; A. J Evans, who had 25 yards; G. Stowe, 17 YiLrds E. A. Evans, 18 varus; J. S. Rowlands,> 15 yards' start. Stowe won, and A J. Evans came in second. 1 here was a live mile bicvele r«,.u g •lossiliia f sciatch man, who found it im- to improve Ins position. Indeed, Powell C!i? o 3 is lead Slid rode in an easy winner, l o well 2nd. 1 here was a 440 yards' flat race (open) —1st prize value £ 4, 2nd £ 1 10s. J. J. Woods •N.L.A., wiih 10 yards' start, failed to overlap W. B. Norton, who had 2Syards'start, and won, T* J. P. Slo{_'gelt, Cardiff, the scratch man, was out of the running. Four others comn->tp 1 and 01 these F. Phillips, N.C.A., came in thi^t 22(1 yards boys' race—1st prize, vab;e £ 1 • 9„\i If F. Treseder, Canton, 1st A. Boon 9 A -The sack tournament, confined 'to the club." caused great amusement. The co.n.Jf:! up in sacks, and the winner wts unT 1 i he who last remained Kt- « tood to bumo-;n«8 of hiV ™ bt n.ing, u, 8|(1teof the W J) "Pi ilii, P,>onettts. E. C. Saunders and d«s bv r.eie the 1:,8t "!e»s«un- overpiimin l •' **x e,ous movement, encceeded in ovei coming his antagonist. Then came a one-mile ii',e hich was veiy closelv contested by i ot Newport, and.). S. Rowland. The a er tailed somewiiat when a few y^rds from tlie tape. and was beaten by Harding l-y about one yard. A great number of entries had been made for the donkey race, and some of the competitors had provided fancy costumes for the riders, but it was considered unadvisable to have the lace run, as it would have entailed the cutting up of tho sward. This most enjoyable day's sport, which oaght to have been better patronised by the public, was brought to a close by Lieut.-Col. Hill, the presi- dent, distributing the prizei to the successful competitors, in the pavillion. It may be .men- tioned that then were no less than 250 entriea for the different evests. There were no wait* between the lie# everything being 6°t aduiirahle tudam
[No title]
At Durham Quarter-sessions on lue^dny, Martin 1< risky, wholesale grocer, Stockton-on- Tees, well connected, was found guilty of receiv- iug about £ 200 worth of stolen groceries knowing them to have been stolen. He was sentenced to six months' hard labour. Eighty blind children have been brought to England, under the guidance Col. Richardson Gardner, who has obtainedr Nom the French Government to take tbr- state establish ment to exhibit them in Lonaon for a few days, -as models for the school lie is about to found, pursuant to the be&evoleut intentions of his wile's