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r ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] FORETOLD,
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r ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] FORETOLD, BY MARY ROWSELL. ,8 CHAPTER L Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the walls, My dog howls at the gate. ChiZde Harold. M WILFRED GRAYTIIORNE, aged 46." Yes, I know, I know only forty-six, and it must be true, because it is on the tombstone; but I always find it hard to reconcile myself to the fact that he was so young. I have been up to the chapel on the Crag this afternoon, and memory has been busy ever since with bygones. My mind's eye sees him so distinctly before me, just as I really saw him for the last time in the flesh seven years ago to-day; I can recall every line of that careworn face, every furrow crossing and recrossing out all traces of youth, and dry, unanswerable data alone can convince me that indeed he saw but forty- six winters. • J am ar|t'cipating my story a strange one indeed for me to look back upon, and often as, book in hand, I sit by the quaint old fireplace in the din- ing-room at Abbot's Crag, and my darling hushes the merry sound of our children's voices, because Papa is reading," my thoughts in fact are wandering away to far-off years, losing themselves in a labyrinth of speculation upon the struggle between good and evil in this world of ours, and gratefully musing upon the Providence which made me, Guy Heaton, its instru- ment for restoring to Abbot's Crag something of that joy and content which had reigned there for many a past generation, but which departed so suddenly and so fearfully with the youth of its last owner. My own history is not an uncommon one. Five years before this little record of mine begins, my gentle mother had been laid to rest in the old family vault of the Heatons, and my father and I dwelt alone together in the old, tumbledown red-brick Berkshire mansion. It had not always been tumbledown in my boyhood's days, charity to the poor, hospitality to the rich, had been poured forth from its doors by no niggardly hand; but we had become miserably poor. A trusted, untrustworthy friend had tempted my father to embark somewhat largely upon the danger- ous sea of speculation. Our little ship, containing many thousand pounds, foundered, and all was lost. From this loss we might, with care and retrenchment, have recovered, but the same enterprising acquaint- ance had borrowed a large sum from my easy, kind- hearted father, to invest in a venture of his own. The money," he assured us, was safe as the Bank of England." Nevertheless, his speculation also proved an utter failure and within two short years we were almost penniless; only the shelter of our roof-tree remained to us. But the old house, once so full of life and good cheer, was now left unto us so desolate and empty that often we hardly knew whence to-morrow's dinner should come. Some from whom he had a right to expect better things deserted us cruelly. It is true they meted out a certain sour mixture they called pity; blamed us for our troubles, our open house of former days, knew what it would all come to;" and so passed by on the other side. Yet there were others, chiefly my father's old tenants, who were truly and touchingly generous to us. Their allegiance did not pass, with their rents, into alien hands, but revealed itself practically enough, under the form of many a kindly little gift of home produce, entrusted to the command of old Dorothy, our quondam housekeeper and present sole domestic; a very female Caleb Bald erst one in her mode of setting forth to outsider the prosperous con- dition of her larder, yet taking care withal to accept each of the generous gifts brought to her for us. Her flowery imagination pictured forth so vividly our sumptuous daily feasts to the good people who brought us bacon and eggs and fowls that I often wondered they persevered in embarrassing our sup- posed wealth but I suspect that they were wiser even than the astute Dorothy, and kept a silent tongue in their heads, forbearing, for our sake, to contradict a word the faithful ereature might say. Truly they acted the little deception delicately well on their own part. It was quite a marvel what rare young sucking pigs blessed neighbouring styes just then; how sweet they were, and how just a morsel might tempt his honour mayhap how many a cow would take it into her kind ruminating old head to produce the finest milk and cream known for many a year, and how miraculously prolific the hens saw fit to be for our especial behoof. Dorothy always smiled grimly upon the offerings, something after the manner of a goddess who might Vouchsafe to favour the votive sacrifice of adoring mortal. Yes," she would say, the victuals looked tidy enough in their way, the cream 'd serve for the maccaroon trifle to-night, and the fowl 'd match prettily with the tongue boiling for his honour's dinner. It was true his honour, and for the matter of that, Mr. Guy too, had poor appetites enough, still there was no knowing but what they might be tempted." Our poor appetites were utterly and entirely one of Dorothy's fictions, and again and again, through the kindness of these our poorer neighbours we en- joyed a hearty meal which might have otherwise con- sisted of little else than dry bread. The tenderly veiled compassion of these good folks, who but lately had deemed my father only just poorer than King George himself, was balm indeed to our sore hearts. May the Great King of all re- member those kind souls in the day when he makes up his jewels. But neither ponds of cream nor generations of rare pigs could ensure to me an honest livelihood. What was to be done? I had run a fair career, first at one of our great public schools, and afterwards had graduated creditably at Cambridge; but my terms there had not expired when our troubles over- whelmed us and summarily cut short the path I had hopefully marked out for myself. We wanted money at once. I could not afford to plod on now and wait for the remuneration a profes- sion might ultimately bring me in. But the prospect of employment was held out to me through the thoughtful kindness of a true friend. A gentleman of his acquaintance, a Sir George Mathieson, was making inquiries for a tutor for his two sons; a University man was a sine qua non with Sir George, and he, through her friend's recommen- dation, wrote to offer me the vacant post, with the accompaniment of a fair stipend, and hinting, more- over, at hopes of further advancement if satisfied with the result of my efforts in his family. The offer was generous in the extreme, and I gratefully accepted it. Ten days after, all prelimi- naries being settled, I bade farewell to home, with strangely mingled feelings of regret and hope, set out on my tedious coach journey, and towards mid- day of a bitter, snowy March afternoon, I found unyself set down at the door of the Blue Posts," at C- and about seven miles from Bickton Park, my final destination. Between C- and Bickton Park the deep-lying snow had stopped all communication. "At best of times," said the landlord of the Blue Posts," t' roads was bad, and now was nigh as im- passable for man as for beast. I had best stop awhile or two Sir George would no more expect me such weather than he would expect t' King o' France." But besides that the day was still young, I dreaded a bill, however small, at mine host's, and, notwith- standing his remonstrances, I determined to walk. When he found he could not turn me ff,om my purpose, he did his best to instruct me how to find J mv way. It was straight as an arrow," he said, "between C-- and Bickton; I had but to follow my nose, about four miles on I should pass Squire Gray- thorne's, then on, straight on again, to the journey's end." Soon, although stumbling with every step, I had made considerable way over that vast snowy desert, but the clouds loured heavily, end the dull winter afternoon began to close in before I was well aware. Presently a few large snowflakes drifted in my face; there would be another fall. Not a single cottage or hovel had I passed on all my weary way; the cold, driving north wind, sole disturber of the weird silence around me, had played such mad, cruel pranks with my well-worn cloak, and had snarled and bitten at my hands so fiercely through their worsted coverings, that my numbed fingers only re- tained a corpse-like grip of the poor little valise that held the bulk of my worldly possessions. Bitterly now I began to repent my foolhardiness, and to wish myself at all coats back again in the cozy warm parlour at the Blue Posts but it would have been more unwise to turn back than to go for- ward. What was to be done ? Suddenly a vague hope 01 shelter seemed to offer itself in the shape of a long, low, outline, rising darkly against the leaden sky; but whether a house, or a church, or a great barn, of a delusion altogether, the blinding snowflakes, falling thickly upon my stiffening eyelids, would not let me distinguish. The horrors of my situation loomed upon me dreary little chronicled mishaps, "Lost in the snow I" Frozen to death I" haunted my half-numbed senses. Sad thoughts of my father, left childless and desolate indeed, mingled themselves strangely with trilling episodes of my past; life, and as we are told that bygones group themselves before the vision of Browning men, so iiia,,ny a mtnerto torgotten detail ot old days rose to my imagination. I saw our dining room at home, with its patched threadbare carpet, and my fishing rod in the corner I saw the tiresome tiies-ay, and heard them, too buzzing about the ears of poor old "Stump," our pony; I heard Dorothy's shrill voice;—hark how it mingles with the ding dong ding of our church belts across the nie.,tdows I and iioiv-tliat, is surely the rush of the mill wheel beside the gates I stagger forward; strive to clutch with my frozen fingers at some black object which seems to elude my grasp, fall; and—I know no more. I CHAPTER II. Maiden, with the meek brown eyes. In whose orb a shadow lies, Like the dusk in evening skies Thou Whose locks outsliiue the sun, Golden tresses wreathed in one. As the braided streamlets run. -Longfellow. A RED flow of firelight flickering cheerily upon the dark silken hangings of a bed in which I lay-and big enough for the great one of Ware ÍlseJf-was the pleasant sight which greeted my eyes when I opened them again. How long I had been there I knew no more than a baby, and, with all a baby's philosophy as to whys and wherefores, cared not at all. Enough, and more than enough, that I lay com- fortably and warmly there too lazy, or perchance too weak, to lift a finger, but as my senses dawned upon me, I took in those details of the apartment, which my half-drawn curtains permitted me to see. A huge twisted floriated oaken wardrobe seemed to occupy almost the entire length of one wall of the chamber. On the right burned my friend, the lire, guarded on either side by marble caryatides, whose sharp furry ears pricked quaintly up through their stiff locks as they grinned down upon an enormous tabby cat curled up fast asleep on the rug. Between the curtains, at my bed's foot, I could discern a toilette-table and a mirror, sto luxuriantly embedded in its delicate china framework of flowers and foliage that it was only fit to reflect fairest lady's face, and ought to have had nothing to do with the poor wan cheeks and hollow eyes that shadowed themselves dimly forth in it from my pillow. In a deep recess, near the great wide window, bung a crucifix, exquisitely carved in ebony and ivory, which for awhile set my thoughts a musing on that deepest pain and meekest patience the world can ever know. Times are changed since then. Puritanism in those days banished all such objects from every- day life, and its presence there almost certainly indicated the owner as an adherent of the old re- ligion." Nothing else hung upon the wainscoted walls, with the exception of three or four old portraits. Ancestors doubtless of the good Samaritan who had rescued me from a cruel death. Although dim with time, I could discern great material beauty in each countenance, yet the spirit there far outrivalled all mere flesh and blood charms. A wealth of dark brown hair pushed lightly back from broad open brows, eyes where intellect and wit seemed ruled by an innate kindliness, mouths that smiled, not in vague exasperating portrait fashion, but as thcugh at some bright transient thought, and ) I almost looked for the smile to relapse into a serious- ness. Such true nobility and beauty I had never till then beheld combined in human countenance. Who were they ? Was I in little Thornrose's enchanted palace ? And were those fir trees, waving their long arms out- side my window there, in the middle of her deep, deep wood ? Should I have slept a hundred years, and had I woke up too soon ? The cat on the rug bad never so much as winked; here, save for the long-drawn rise and fall of her glossy sides, she lay immovable, paw over nose, No sound, no sound blit the stealthy cracking of the fire, and the lazy ticking of a clock I could not see. At last the silence became intolerable, the desire to break it irresistible; and, with a savage wantonness, I determined to try and break the calm repose of the cat by calling "Puss." It was a mighty effort, but no result followed for the poor weak whisper doing duty for my voice had little chance indeed of disturbing her slumbers. Nevertheless, I tried again, and this time not altogether unsuccessfully, for she flicked forward one ear, and immediately afterwards my curtains were drawn gently aside, and a silver-haired, mild- looking little old lady, worthy indeed to be a fairy godmother, looked in upon me. She had on a glossy black satin dress, a snowy muslin kerchief was folded over her bosom, while a border of softest lace framed her rosy apple face. In her mittened hand she held a cup. How do you find yourself, bairnie?" she said- "better? Just nod your head, then; mustn't talk ye know, just yet. Take this first;" and she placed before me some fragrant broth-like liquid. Ye've been rather ill," she continued, as I looked inquir- ingly at her, but ye'll soon be better now." Certainly I was better, for I devoured the contents of the cup with a keen relish and the silver-haired little dame, having superintended its speedy disap- pearance with an approving nod, bade me lie still and be quiet, and sat herself down to knit. For some half-hour or so I obeyed orders; and lay there, lazily watching the lightning speed of her tiny fingers but at last, after many vain attempts on my part at conversation, followed, on hers, by resolute pursings of the button-hole mouth, intending to awe me irto silence, I gained the day, and gleaned some enlightenment from her as to my present plight. I was at Abbot's Crag," she said, Squire Gray- thorne's place. His honour had himself found me, lying at his gates in a deep swoon, and nigh frozen to death. Then they had carried me in to the bed where I now lay. The village apothecary had said that the cold and fatigue, acting upon a previously weakened system, had been too much for me, and that, in all probability, some time must still elapse before I should be once more strong enough to face a work- a-day world. There was no cause to fret or worrit myself, the address of Sir George Mathieson had been found in my pocket; he was well known to Squire Graythorne, and had told him my history for me. They had been able to send my father comfort- ing replies to his anxious inquiries. Sir John had found a substitute until I should be thoroughly well and strong enough for my duties. And there's no call, you see," concluded my kind nurse, to fret or worrit about a single thing; so lie still." "But how," said I, "can I ever repay Mr. Gray- thorne and yourself for all your goodness?" As to me," she replied, I'm just his honour's housekeeper; and for him, there, 'tis only when he's about some kind deed for other fowk that his puir wae-worn heart seems eased a bit, and he'll be quite fain, I'll wager, when he comes, in, to hear ye're mending sae bonnily, for indeed he took avast fancy to your puir stark face lying so pitiful at his gate, and I think, a'most he forgot his ain sorrows, the while he sorrowed for ye." I am grieved to hear that my kind benefactor is in trouble. Has he lost anyone dear to him lately ?" Dear to him? Lack-a-day 1" sighed the house- keeper, but leeatly-weil, bairn, ye know fowks think so different about those same leeatles; there's them '11 greet and whine, and make a great to-do and cram a grave so thick with their snawdrops and violets, as if t' puir body underneath was nivver to coom ahoon again, and by time t' red roses bloom forgets all about their dead. And there's them that a dozen years agone, seems but a short winter's day to; mebbe after t' first they don't take on much out- side, but just ye bide awhile wi' 'em and see if their leeatlies don't last till Heaven takes 'em home again to them that's nivver been a single hour ou't o' their heads since they was took. Now, our Squire's one o' these. Young Madam G-raythorpe$5<ssd j ust eigh- teen years agone come t' blessed Whitsimtk" and our master sorrows for her as if he'd laid her in her cold grave, puir lassie, but yestreen. Ah, me! I've heard him tell Mistress Hilda (that's ouryoung leddy), many and many a time, about yon King who lost his only son through drownin', and how afterwards he I never smiled again, and I often think him and out master 'd make a real waesome pair; but, whisht now, or all t' fever 11 come back on ye 1* Then the housekeeper, screwins uo her lips again, plied her needles quicker than ever, and not a word of further information could I get out of her for the rest of that day. So, too, the next morning passed, and although Mrs. Redmond chattily busied herself over my personal comfort, all efforts to induce her to renew the previous day's conversation failed com- pletely. The kind, pompous little apothecary paid me another visit during the morning, and pronounced me sufficiently recovered to sit up for a few hours. Accordingly, having been inducted into a glaring scarlet silk dressing-gown, bestrewn with gigantic yellow roses, I was led to the downiest, softest of couches, also draped with a chintz of exceedingly loud colours. Mrs. Redman was charmed with my exploit, or rather, I should say, with her own, for it was her kind arms that supported my weak, trembling frame on that first toilsome little pilgrimage from bed to couch. She declared I should soon pick up now —what I was to pick up she did not explain. If she meant strength, never had I felt further from such a consummation. For the first time I began to find how severe my illness must have been I was weak as a child, and for many a long day after that I thought strength had iled for ever, and that, sooner or later, I must sink beneath the intolerable, oppressive weakness. My couch had been so arranged that, by slightly turning my languid head, I could see out of the window. Those who have ever been half-smothered for any length of time behind close bed curtains alone can tell the satisfaction of gazing once more on the outer world, even though that would be one of grimy roof-tops and obimnev-pots, with now and then, by way of enlivening the scene, the apparition of soma poor gaunt cat stalking through the smoke and fog; but who shall describe the blessedness of gazing out once more on the real Nature world, with its green trees and soft, grassy meadows, while some happy bird, skimming through the glistening air, bears our gratitude for us, away through the low-lying clouds, up into the eternal depths of the blue sky. Such was the sight from my window-a fair one indeed for sore e'en. Just beneath, a broad terrace stretched from end to end of the long, low-gabled house; flights of stone steps led down thence, between gentle green slopes, on to a lawn, so shaven and shorn, and smooth, that tennis monomaniacs of to-day would incontinently have tortured it with their iron spikes; but Britain's sons and daughters had not then lent themselves body and soul to the en- thralling pastime, and the great expanse stretched itself smilingly away into a wilderness of mighty trees, while, far beyond, a crescent of blue sunlit bills shut in the prospect. It was one of those days, in late winter, when the sun seems to hint to the birds that spring won't be long now, and that they had better tune up and try their pretty voices, and underneath my window was such a chirrupping, and twittering, and fluttering, as though matters were decidedly flourishing in the bird world. Sometimes things seemed to be carried too far, for now and then a small shriek, and a flapping of tiny wings, told of a skirmish, and then I heard the sound of a sweet voice, mildly remonstrating. Mrs. Redman was absent from the room just then, and I crept closer to the window, and peeped out from the curtains. On the terrace just below, amid a posse of little brown birds, there stood a young girl, of apparently seventeen or eighteen years; she might have been Red Riding Hood herself, in her little scarlet cloak and hood, which was drawn up over her curly golden hair. With one hand she held up a daintily-embroi- dered apron full of crumbs, while with the other she scattered the food among her tiny pensioners. A gigantic shaggy dog stood looking on, at a respectful distance, with his great, patient, loving eyes. Suddenly the young lady raised her head, and gazed, I though somewhat inquiringly, at my window. Then, painfully conscious of the figure I must pre. sent in my gorgeous habiliments, I drew hastily back, but not until I had remarked the beauty of a pair of dark brown eves, and of a complexion all aglow with the freshness of the crisp winter air. Involuntarily I turned to the portraits on the wall, Ah, now, indeed, I had beheld those features and that expression in the living flesh Just then Mrs. Redman returned, and I summoned up courage to ask her who the lady was I had seen in the garden. (To be continued,)
THE, IMPERIAL YEOMANRY. I
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THE, IMPERIAL YEOMANRY. At present, it is stated, there is no intention on the part of the authorities to materially augment the strength of the Yeomanry now serving in South Africa. Colonel Lucas, Deputy Adjutant-General (Imperial Yeomanry), stated that were an increase decided upon, no difficulty would be experienced in raising a very large additional force. If the War Office required more Yeomanry it was, he said, only necessary to announce the fact. Plenty of recruits would be speedily forthcoming. Throughout the day there had been frequent callers at the offices in Great George-street anxious for enrolment should the opportunity arise. It may be mentioned that Colonel Lucas and his staff, in less than three months, recruited a force of 10,000 officers and men. Active recruiting for the Imperial Yeomanry ceased in April last, but it is felt that an equally large forct could, if necessary, be quite as expeditiously obtained at the present time.
SHOOTING CASE AT HAMPSTEAD.
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SHOOTING CASE AT HAMPSTEAD. On Monday afternoon a young woman giving the name of Maud Eddington entered a shop in Fleet- road, Hampstead, and, it is alleged, fired two 01 three shots from a revolver at a young man namec1 Ballis who was standing at the counter, wounding him dangerously in the head. The young woman afterwards attempted to shoot herself, but did her- self little injury. Ballis was removed to the Hamp- stead Hospital in a precarious condition. His as- sailant was arrested. DEATH OF BELLIS. The injured young man Bellis died in the Hamp- otead Hospital on Tuesday morning.
WHAT THE RAILWAY MEANS FOR…
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WHAT THE RAILWAY MEANS FOR GREAT BRITAIN. FOR GREAT BRITAIN. In 1801 there were no railways in Scotland in the sense we now use the term, or even in England. To- day the railways of the United Kingdom extend to about 22,000 miles of line, which had been con- structed at a cost of about 1300 millions of pounds. The annual gross receipts now exceed 100 millions, and of the expenditure, which amounts to over 60 millions, fully one-half is distributed in wages to OTer a half-million of employes. That is surely a development to be proud of. Is there another influence which has done so much during the past 100 years to stimulate enterprise, to encourage trade and commerce, and to develop the resources of any country.
A HANDSOME BEQUEST. I
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A HANDSOME BEQUEST. The late Mr. H. S. Ashbee's bequest of oil pic- tures and water colour drawings to the Victoria and Albert Museum forms only a portion of his collec- tions which he has left to the nation. Mr. Ashbee's library, which contained nearly 15,000 books, has been left to the British Museum, the authorities of which institution ere empowered to distribute among the public libraries of the kingdom any duplicate works not wanted for the National Library.
DESTITUTE YEOMAN. I
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DESTITUTE YEOMAN. I At Shrewsbury a member of the Imperial Yeo- manry, who had been invalided from South Africa, and since discharged as unfit for further service, was compelled on Monday through absolute destitu- tion to apply to the Shrewsbury Guardians for relief for himself and family. He bad been attached to the Staffordshire Company Imperial Yeomanry, and was now unable to continue his former civil employment through injuries received during the war. He was granted 5s. a week.
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IF YOU CANNOT SLEJiJP' because you have a cough or tickling in your throat, use the unrivalled remedy, KEATING'S COUGH LOZENGES, one alone affords relief—well called "sweet relief "-in cases of cough, asthma, bronchitis. Sold everywhere in tins, 2 13!d. each; free for stamps. Thomas Keating, Chemist. -London. FROFESSOR NIPIIER, of Washington University, Saint Louis, Missouri, has at length (says the Globe) developed a fine reversed photographic picture with the developing bath in direct sunlight. The developer was a modification of hydrochinone. The bromide was left out, and the sodium carbonate solution was I made up at half the strength used for negatives. The mixed developer was diluted with water in the pro- portion of one part to nine.
DEATH1 OF THE BI8HOP OP LONDON.…
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DEATH1 OF THE BI8HOP OP LONDON. LONDON. We regret to announce that Dr. Creighton, Bishop of London, died at a quarter to one on Monday afternoon at Fulham Palace. Dr. Creighton had been ill for several month, and recently under- went two severe operations for abdominal trouble. From the effects of these he never recovered. At the beginning of last week the bulletins were of a favour- able nature the doctors in attendance had noticed a slight improvement, which it was hoped would continue. On Thursday night of last week, however, there was a change for the worse, and so critical was his lordship's condition considered that his immediate relatives were summoned to the palace. Since that time the bishop continued to grow gradu- ally weaker, his illness being watched with the greatest solicitude both by the Queen and several members of the Royal family, who made frequent inquiries. There were also a large number of in- quiries from persons of all classes in life to whom the bishop had endeared himself. Sunday night's report seemed to give a glimpse a hope, but the con- dition of the right reverend prelate took a change for the worse at nine o'clock in the morning. It was then recognised that recovery had became hopeless, and the bishop passed peaceably away in the pre- sence of members of his family at a quarter to ono o'clock. The bells :of St. Paul's Cathedral were tolled on Monday afternoon. The Bishop of Stepney, speaking at Bournemouth on Monday, said that in the death of the Bishop of London England had lost one of her wisest and most learned men, and one of the best historians, and the Church one of .her ablest rulers, a man who never thought of himself, but devoted himself with almost too great devotion to duty. Those who had been privileged to have a close intimacy with him had lost a dear friend. Mandell Creighton. 109th Bishop of London, was born at Carlisle, in 1843, and educated at the Durham Grammar School. He was proud of the fact of having first seen the light in Cumberland, and his brother was lately Mayor of the Cumbrian capital, of which the late Bishop of London published an historical account some years ago in the His- toric Towns series. From Durham he went up to Merton College, Oxford, the college of Lord Halsbury and the late Lord Randolph Churchill, where he had obtained a postmastership," as the scholarships are quaintly called at the third oldest Oxford college. lie there distinguished himself by hard reading- not a very usual accomplishment of Merton men— the immediate results of which were a first-class in Classical Moderations, a first class in Classical Finals, and a second in the then combined school of Law and History, in the last of which examinations the future historian did not do himself full justice. In 1866 he became fellow of his college, and spent the next few years there as a tutor, in one of those charming rooms which overlook the Christchurch meadows. At the age of 27 he took holy orders, and in 1875 became rector of Embleton, in Northumber- land. Meanwhile, he had married a very talented lady, the daughter of a Russo-German merchant from the Baltic provinces who had become a naturalised Englishman. Mrs. Creighton, by whom he had three sons and four daughters, was of the greatest assist- ance to him in both his literary and his administra- tive work, and has rendered great services to the cause of women's education. For some years her husband continued to devote himself mainly to parochial work; he became rural dean of Alnwick and an honorary canon of Newcastle, ex- changing those posts for a canonry of Worcester in 1885. A year earlier he had been appointed first Professor of Ecclesiastical History at Cambridge, a chair for which he was eminently suited, as his chief book, the History of the Papacy during the period of the Reformation," clearly shows. In 1886 he founded and became first editor of the English Historical Review, a post which he retained until he was created Bishop of Peterborough in 1891. A short time before that promotion he had been made Canon of Windsor, an office which he never actually filled. At Peterborough-where he had some very distinguished predecessors, such as Jeune and the famous Magee, who "would have preferred to see England free than sober "—he was a great success, and such was his fame that he was looked upon as the next Archbishop of Canterbury. But when Archbishop Benson died suddenly in the village church at Hawarden while on a visit to Mr. Gladstone in 1896, Lord Salisbury, who had given Dr. Creighton the see of Peterborough five years earlier, translated Dr. Temple from London to Canterbury, and promoted the Bishop of Peter- borough to London. On January 5, 1897, he was formally elected," and thus of the eight men who had been Bishops of London in the 19th century he was for the shortest time at Fulham Palace. It mav be mentioned as a curious fact that no fewer than three out of the eight were translated to Canter- bury. As a Privy Councillor and a member of the House of Lords, the late bishop was mixed up with public affairs, but he was not a warm politician in the party sense of the word. He spoke with earnestness on the subject of travel, advising people to get to know their own country well, and lamenting that, though he had visited Spain and Dalmatia, he had never been able to get off in the winter to Palestine. He was present at the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the foundation of Harvard, and in 1896 was one of the British representatives at the Czar's coronation, of which he gave his impressions on his return, impressions all the more valuable because he was a good linguist. Since becoming Bishop of London, be complained that he had little time for historical research, but he has made a name in that department, not only by the works already mentioned, but also by his "Age of Elizabeth" and his Lives of "Simon de Montfort" and Cardinal Wolsey." He was a D.D. of both Oxford and Cambridge, and held numerous honorary degrees from other universities. He was a good specimen of the scholarly man of affairs; not in the least pedantic, yet full of ideas and gifted with the energy to put them into execution. It will not be an easy task [to appoint a successor who will worthily fill his place at Fulham Palace.
REMARKABLE EXPERIMENTS.
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REMARKABLE EXPERIMENTS. further particulars are to hand as to the new salt treatment for those suffering from loss of blood by accident or otherwise, which a Chicago doctor, Dr. W. Byron Coakley, has discovered. The Daily Telegraph correspondent gives the best account of the matter. Dr. Coakley, it seems, has been experiment- ing on dogs and other animals to determine how much blood could be removed without causing death, and what is the best way to replace the blood that has been lost. He found that a dog lived after parting with 90 per cent. of its vital fluid, provided this was promptly replaced by a salt solution. Dr. Coakley in his experiments used more than 100 dogs. In his first experiments the surgeon began by removing only one ounce of blood, re- placing it with a like amount of normal salt solution, and he continued these experi- ments until in one of the animals he succeeded in withdrawing 70 per cent, of the circula- tion, but found it necessary to stimulate the heart and brain directly to maintain the action of these organs. This he did by operations 011 the heart and skull, a two per cent. solution of salt, heated to 110 degrees Fahrenheit, being injected. The dog operated upon in the extreme case was a powerfully-built animal, weighing 71jlb. For half a minute its respiration ran down to three to the minute, or the point of collapse, but within an hour following the experiment the dog was able to be on its feet for a minute, but could not remain standing. On the following day the animal was coaxed to walk about in its cage. This was an instance which, according to Dr. Coakley, proved the value of salt solutions in extreme cases of hemorrhage, no matter from what cause. He applied the solution to a patient who had pneumonia, and the patient, he says, recovered much earlier than is usual.
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AN accident occurred on Saturday evening to a brake containing a football team at Waldershare, near the mansion of Lord Guilford. The party, which comprised the Eastry football team, were re- turning from Dover, where they had played the Red Shield Club at the Dane Ground. When opposite the Royal George the horses were probably startled, aud swerved just at the cross road, causing the right wheels of the vehicle to aseend the bank, overturning the brake. The occupants were thrown violently out into the road. One man received severe internal in- jury, another had his wrist broken, and a third his leg injured. The remainder of the party received numerous cuts and bruises. Medical aid was pro- cured as quickly as possible, and the injured were conveyed to their homes in cabs.
I 'MARKET NEWS. I
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I MARKET NEWS. I MARK-LANE.—English wheat continues in riRrrov? supply, and 6d firmer, while very sparingly offered. White, 29s to 32s, and red, 28s to 3is per qr., delivered, 381b. American descriptions eteadiiy heid. while neither arrivals nor shipments to come up in any quantities. No. 1 Northern Spring quoted at, 34s; No. I hard Manitoba, old, 35s; and hard Kansas, 32s, all on landed terms. Hard Duluth. ex-ship. Red winter now about 32s landed. The market for flour has been in a slow stale, and to effect sales generally 3d less money has to tie ac- cepted. Leading brands of American remain very firm and scarce. Eiigl sh, 3d to 6d dearer. American lirst pa- tents quoted at 25s 6d to 26s; seconds, 23t; 6d to 24s 6d; first bakers, 20s 6d to 21s 6d and seconds, ls to 19s. Top price town, 30s nett. Town households, 25s 6d, and whites 28s 6d per sack. Grinding barley upheld at 18s ex-quay, being nominal in absence of supplies. Azoff 19s ex-quay 4001b., being 3d dearer. Malting maintained. Oats 3d to 6d for American and Russian, also rather firmer and useful qualities being scarce. American mixed clipped quoted at 15s 9d ex-ship, 16s ex-quay; white clipped in these positions, 16s 3d and 17s, respectively 401b. Ordinary old St. Petersburg 15s 3d ex-ship, 15s 6d ex-quay, 381b. and 401b., 16s to 18s according to quality. Flat maize again lower, prices showing a drop of 6d on the week. Round corn unchanged. Mixed American, new, 19s 6d ex-ship, now due; and old, 20s Bessarabian, 22s 6d ex-ship, to come up, and 22s 3d ex-quay, Millwall. Beans and peM continue in light supply and held for the recent advance. Egyptian splits, 21s 6d ex-mill. Mazagans 20s 6d landed, 4001b. Canadian white peas, 29s 3d ex-ship, 31s ex-granary. American maize germ meal con- tinues very scarce on spot, with sellers for January- February, seaboard shipment, at £5 5s. English steady at £5 8s 8d to Eb 10s per ton ex-wharf. LONDON METROPOLITAN CATTLE. — Beast entries lighter. The demand was not very fast, and busi- ness in both prime and second qualities progressed rather quietly, quotations, however, marking no appreciable change. Fat butchering cows moved off very slowly. Quotations: Scotch, 4s 8d; Devons, 4s 6d to 4s 7d; Herefords, 4s 4d to 4s Gd; runts, 48 2d to 4s 4d; Norfolk, 4s 6d to 4s 7d; Lincoln shorthorns, 4s 4d to 4s 6d; Irish, 4s 2d to 4s 6d fat cows, 3s 6d; exceptionally, 3s 8d per 81b. Irish stores, 3 years old, Ell to £ 1110s per head. Sheep arrivals also showed a falling off compared with last Monday's figures, and while wethers changed hands quietly on former terms, ewes ruled 2d per 81b. higher. 7 to 8-stone Down 2 wethers quoted 5s 8d to 5s lOd 9-stone ditto, 5s 6d to 5s 8d; 10-stone half-breds, 5s 2d to 5s 3d; 10-stone Down ewes, 4s 6d to 4s 8d ll-stone half- bred ditto, 4s 2d to 4s 4d. Calf trade nominal in absence of supplies. Pigs in slow support ruled easier in value. Neat small, 4s ?d to 4s 4d per 81b. to sink the offal. Milch cows offered at £16 to £23 per head. Coarse and inferior beasts quoted 2s 6d to 3s 2d second quality ditto, 3s 6d to 3s lOd; prime large oxen, 4s 2d to 4s 4d; ditto Scots, &c., 4s 6d to 4s 8d; coarse and inferior sheep, 3s 2d to 3s lOd; second quality ditto, 4s 2d to 4s lOd; prime coarse woolled, 5s to 5s 4d; prime South- downs, 5s 6d to 5s lOd large hogs, 2s lOd to 3s 2d; second quality, 3s 4d to 3s lOd neat small porkers, 4s to 4s 4d per 81b. SMITIIFIELD MEAT.—Quotations: Beef: Scotch, 3s lOd to 4s 4d English, 4s to 4s 2d; American, Deptford killed, 3s 9d to 3s lid; Liverpool, 3s 8d to 3s lOd American refrigerated, hind-quarters, 3s 6d to 3s lOd; fore-quarters, 2s lOd to 2s lid. Mutton: Scotch, 4s 6d to 4s 8d; English wethers, 4s 4d to 4s 6d ewes, 2s lOd to 3s 2d. Yeal: English and Dutch, 4s 4d to 5s. Pork English, 3s 8d to 4s Dutch, 3s 4d to 3s 8d; and Irish, 3s to 3s 4d per 81b. POULTRY AND GAME.—Quotations.—Fowls: York- shire, 2s 3d to 2s 9d; Essex, 2s 6d to 2s 9d; Surrey, 3s to 3s 6d; Sussex, 2s 6d to 3s 3d Welsh, Is 9d to 2s Irish, Is 6d to 2s turkeys, cocks, 8s 6d to 10s 6d; hens, 4s 9d to 5s geese, 5s to 6s 6d; country ducks, 2s 9d to 3s 3d; Bor- deaux pigeons, lid to Is 2d; feathered, 9d to lid wild rabbits, 9d to lOd tame, Is Id to Is 3d each; Australian, 7s 6d to 9s per dozen; pheasants, 4s to 4s 6d; young partridges, 3s to 3s 6d old, Is 9d to 2s per brace; hares, 3s to 38 3d leverets, 2s to 2s 6d wild ducks, Is 6d to Is 9d pintail, Is 6d widgeon, Is to Is 3d; teal, Is to Is 2d woodcock, 2s to 3s; snipe, 6d to Is; golden plover, 8d to Is; black, 5d to 7d Russian blackgame, Is 2d to Is 3d ptarmigan, 9d to lOd each. BILLINGSGATE FisH.-Soles, Is to Is 5d slips, Is to Is 4d; red mullet, Is Od to 2s 3d; dories, 2d to 6d per lb.; turbot, 8s to 15s Od; brill, 7s to 9s Od halibut, 7s 6d to lls Od lemon soles, 7s 6d to 10s Od; plaice, bs to 7s 6d per stone; large steamer plaice, 30s to 40s per trunk; Aberdeen plaice, 37s 6d; whiting, 4s to 9s gurnet, 12s hake, 20s skate, 10s to 14s live cod, 16a to 30s dead, 10s to 20s per box English mackerel, 18s to 218 per 60; large steamer haddocks, 12s to 18s per trunk; loose, 2s 6d per stone; Dutch smelts, Is to 4s per basket; sprats, 3s to 4s per bushel; live eels, 16s to 20s dead, 13s to 16s per draft; lobsters, 25s to 60s per score; crabs, 30s per hamper; oysters, 6s to 15s per 100; bloaters, 3s to 3s 6d kippers, 4s to 5s per box; whitebait, Is per quart. SEED TRADE.—American cloverseed, which now interests English seedsmen, but only slightly, is cabled higher. Konigsberg tares continue dear. Mustard and rapeseed steady. Canary and hemp- seed are both advancing, whilst peas, haricots, and lentils also tend upwards. Scarlet runner and long- pod beans, and also Veitche's perfection peas, offer on reasonable terms. COVENT GARDEN.—English apples, 3s 6d to 7s 6d per bushel; Canadian and Nova Scotian, 10s 6d to 22s per barrel; Californian, 7s to 10s 6d per case; Eng- lish grapes, 9d to 2s 6d per lb.; Californian pears, 12s to 18s per case; cranberries, 10s 6d to 14s per case; custard apples, 3s to 4s 6d per dozen parsley, Is 6d to 2s; carrots, 2s to 3s; turnips, 2s 6d to 3s 6d; radishes, lOd to Is per dozen bundles endive, Is to Is 6d; cauliflowers, Is 3d to 2s cucumbers, 6s to 15s per dozen savoys, 3s to 5s; cabbages, 2s 6d to 3s 6d beetroots, 2s 6d to 3s per tally; English onions, 4s 6d to 6s per bag; Valencia, 6s to 8s per case; horseradish, Is 6d to 2s per bundle; forced rhubarb, 2s per dozen bundles celery, 8s to 12s 6d per dozen rolls spinach, 2s per bushel; Brussels sprouts, Is 6d to 2s 6d per half-sieve; eschallots, 2s 6d to 3s per 121b.; potatoes, 75s to 110s per ton. WOOL.-ln regard to choice mennD fleeces, con- sumers decline to buy, unless concessions are made, and any attempt to enforce the full advance at once stops business. There is little more disposition to buy the finest crossbreds where tempting prices are conceded, but the consumption and the demand are concentrating themselves in a most marked degree on good medium and strong cross-breds, which are a very abundant supply, and can be secured at the very bottom prices. Stocks of all kinds of wool in the hands of users are of very small extent in striking contrast to last season, when stocks were large and prices extremely high. Choice Shropshire and Down fleeces are in fair request for blending purposes and prices are steady; half-breds are very quiet and only pure white long lustre fleeces are sought after, inferior and faulty grades being prac- tically unsaleable. CAMBRIDGE CATTLE.—There was a fair show of fat beasts, prices unchanged. Very few store be'asts were offered. Trade for fat sheep was not quite so good. A few lots of store sheep were shown, and all cleared. There was a large supply of fat pigs, and a brisk trade was done whilst there was a fairly lively trade all round for store pigs. Fair supplies of hay, straw, and roots, which sold fairly well. Prices Beef, 7s to 7s 9d; mutton, 4s 2d to 5s 4d; pork, 6s to 7s.. READING CATTLE.-At market the beef supply proved fairly good, and trade steady, at 4s 4d to 4s 8d per stone for best; 3s 6d to 4s 2d for secondary. Mutton trade slow, despite a short supply, best making 5s 4d to 5s 8d secondary, 4s 8d to 5s 2d. Veal trade brisk, best qualities fetching 5s 6d to 6s 2d; and secondary, 4s lOd to 5s 4d. CORK BUTT.ER.-I)rStg, 110s; second, 102s; third, 89s; fine, 108s. GRIMSBY Fisn.- Plaice, 49s to 50s per box lemon soles, 7s per stone soles, Is 3d to Is 5d per lb.; live dabs, 19s; dead ditto, 18s; live codlings, 17s; dead ditto, 16s 6d kit haddocks, 16s to 18s; gibbed ditto, 18s to 20s; live ditto, 22s to 25s per box whitches, 2s 3d to 2s 6d; whitings, 2s per stone: gurnets, 6s per box; turbot, Is 2d brills, lid per lb.; live ling, 6s; dead ditto, 5s; live cod, 8s to lls dead ditto, 7s to 9s; live skate, 5s; dead ditto, 2s 6d each; Findon haddocks, 4s 6d; live halibut, 6s to 10s; dead ditto, 5s to 9s; English shrimps, 3s 6d per stone kippers, 3s 9d bloaters, 3s 9d red herrings, 3s 9d per box; live coalfish, 35s; dead ditto, 30s per score; tusks, 30s; ice. Is 6d Der cwt.
-.-"1. I THE WOMAN'S WORLD.
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-"1. I THE WOMAN'S WORLD. IVORY handle knives that have become discoloured may (says the Sun) be restored by carefully rubbing theia with fine glass paper. ORDINARY black ink, if well rubbed into an old black felt hat, will revive it. A RUG that is getting old should have a stout backing of canvas sewn on to it. This will keep it flat, and greatly enhance its wearing qualities. OLD tea or coffee stains may be effectually re- moved by boiling the article in water in which some borax has been dissolved. To remove stains of vinegar or any acid from I knife-blades, slice a potato in two, dip it in brick- dust, and with this clean the knife. To take away the smell from a room that has been newly painted, slice up three or four onions into a basin, and leave this overnight in the room with doors and windows closed. Next morning the odour will have disappeared. & FLOWERS sent by post are often packed in cotton- wool. This is a mistake, as the wool soon absorbs moisture, and the blossoms quickly fade. Wet moss, or, failing that, grass wrapped round the stems forms the best packing. To prevent window glass sweating and freezing, the following advice is given, and may be adopted by housewives. Dissolve two ounces of glycerine in one quart of 63 per cent. alcohol, to which a little amber I oil may be added to impart a pleasant odour. When the mixture has clarified, rub it with a soft cloth on the window. IT is an excellent plan, directly a child is observed to have a little cold, to rub the chest with sweet oil morning and evening. First warm the hand, and apply about a teaspoonful of sweet oil, and if time allows continue rubbing for five minutes. If this remedy were resorted to directly a cold was ob- served many childish illnesses would be prevented. WHEN the eyes ache, relieve them by closing the lids for five or ten minutes. When stinging and red through crying, they should be bathed in rose- water, or wet a handkerchief with rose-water and lay it over them for a few minutes. If they are blood- shot, you need more sleep, or have been sitting in a draught. If they have a burning sensation, bathe them with hot water to which a dash of witch hazel has been added. If the whites of the eyes are yellow and the pupils dull, strict attention should be paid to diet. THERE is every reason (remarks the London Journal for maintaining an erect position in standing 01 walking, and of being straight in a sitting position, but no reason can be brought forward why anyone should be crooked, except that of natural or acci- dental deformity. It should be a matter of personal pride with everyone to be straight, because by being straight one accepts that great privilege which God has given to humanity only; namely, the power to stand erect, man being furnished with a spine which, properly treated, serves as a column to support the body in an upright position, all the bones, joint% and muscles being arranged to make it possibleti maintain this erect posture without fatigue. THE days when industrious ladies wrought imposing bed mats of crochet are now gone, one seel such things only as heirlooms. Crochet insertion with linen may, however, be made into a not inartistit spread. Like the crochet mat, the chazy quilt is a thing of the past, except when it used to give a bit of colour tp a kitchen bed. The designs of applique on whitfc or turkey red are equally glaring, though not perhaps so old-fashioned, and mats adorned in this way should be kept for the nursery. Some pretty spreads are made of coloured sateen, embroidered with flowers and trimmed with lace insertion, and more attractive even than these are the spreads with a lace top over a coloured silk or satin foundation. A BLACK evening gown is, happily for those with light purses, again quite in fashion this winter. For several years now only the matron, and she but seldom has appeared at any but the quietest social functions in a black gown. With the return to high favour of the diaphanous skirt there is nothing more fascinat- ing than a good black dress. In the thinnest of materials embroidered chiffon, nets, and grenadine are found, while, if something a little more substan- tial is desired, a most fascinating gown may be com- posed of silk voile. I have seen one (says a writer in the S1(11) which had the skirt lined with jet pas- sementerie, and the material cut away behind the jet, which was most exquisite, and with the thicker voile a silk foundation is not absolutely de rigueur, though it is, of course, desirable. In the wardrobe there is probably either a black silk skirt, which has been laid by for some future occasion and which can now be cut, or a coloured silk skirt, or even parts of several, which can be dyed black to be joined and mounted on a linenette lining for use under net or other thin fabric. The linenette is not heavy, and with its timely aid quite a number of well-pressed joins will not interfere in the least with the set of the skirt. The foundation of this skirt is in four pieces for silk, front, side, second side, and back gores, so that no pleats are necessary to the waist-fitting. A full flounce of net, ornamented with lines of narrow lace or silk passementerie or even of satin ribbon, is drawn up and draped upon a pannier-cut overskirt of the same material. This skirt is cut with very little goring to the seams, and is drawn into the waist. Two silk flounces are required upon the underskirt to fluff out the deep frill round the feet. A little lining has a full bodice of net upon it, and the'drapery' which outlines the decolletage is of which- ever shade of velvet is most becoming te the wearer. Both turquoise and orange are most becoming on black. The velvet waistband is cut upon the cross, and will require an interlining of canvas. It should be black to correspond with the skirt. THE plaits which now appear at the back of the skirt are usually stitched down for several inches, although for transparent goods, free plaits and gathers are readily employed. The general effect of skirts (remarks the Sun) is still clinging, defining the form very clearly, but there is a slight increase of fulness at the foot and back. The circular flounce continues to be a resort for gaining amplitude at the edge, while the upper part remains close. Plaited flounces are also used for silks and thin materials. Plain, flat skirts are made in one with the lining- that is, have the lining attached throughout-but plaited and full skirts are made over a separate lining or drop skirt, the latter being plain except at the foot, where it is finished by a circular flounce or a plaifcing, or perhaps several plaitings, to sustain the outer skirt and prevent it from falling in too much around the ankles. GLOVES of reindeer skin, soft and warm, are worn for travelling and eliting use, and grey dogskin gloves with black stitching for the street. For calling and similar purposes glace kid in straw, biscuit, pearl grey, and similar delicate tints is preferred, replacing the pure white glove which for a time was universally worn, although universally unbecaming to the band. Evening gloves are exclusively of suede, but even there white is abandoned. The custom of appearing in public with bare bandmi which for a short time was adopted by fashionable women, has been summarily dropped. It was never in the best of taste, although the hands were literally covered with rings, and the long mediajval sleeves of the bodice extended to the knuckles. Gloves are the appropriate finish to a forma' toilet cf any kind, and their lack is always felt. THE sleeve is more and more the domain 81 novelty, and is relied upon to give character to the costume, which in other respects shows no notice- able change. Like skirts, the sleeve is clinging in form, closely moulding the arm at the upper part, but toward the wrist there is no limit to the variety of arrangement and ornamentation. These tight sleeves are not by any means convenient, as they hamper the movement of the arm. They are kept as flat as possible at the shoulder, only the absolutely necessary fulness being permitted where they are sewed in, and this fulness is frequently placed in the form of stitched plaits or little darts. Moreover, the whole aspect of the figure is changed by them. The narrow, sloping effect of the shoulders makes the neck appear longer and the waist much larger, a result becoming to very few women. The slendei woman with wide, square shoulders ifl the only type benefited by this style.