THE MODERN BOY.

Barbarous Habils and y Customs.

A Writer Does Him Justice.

THE original and amusing character of boys has been too little studied. In all English fiction we only know two authors who have studied boys with the eyes of the humorist, and these two ivvo extremely dissimilar writers—Mr George Meredith and Mr Henry Kingsloy. Mi- Meredith has devoted many chapters of '•Richard Fevorel" (a book which we are not recommending to the notice of thb public schools) to a romantic and worldly boy, to Richard and liip. Mr Meredith spoke with some plainness about points in the puerile character which are generously and judiciously omitted. But he, also proved that he had a keen eye for the de lightful gravity with which boys carry out their own savage code of manners nnd cus toms. Novclis'shave, to tell tho truth, no fair chance of drawing boys. 'J hey do not see them at school, where they herd togo thcriti a primitive kind of society, >wi til primitive laws of its own. We are a<* quaintcd with a school, not a public one, in which, ten years ago, the boys of tho two •• 9 i,i eg "—that is, tho boys whoso rooms are in'diffcrent parts of the building—waged a ferocious and interminable war against cacll other with 'clubs and other rude weapons; A boy who met a dweller on ihe other side was obliged to " go for him "in real earnest, even if the enemy chanced tv be his, own brother. These young savages had, howj ever, mitigated their barbarous mode of life by contriving a sort of sanctuary. A certain portion of a certain dry ditclu was regarded as neutral ground, and m this ditch brothers, cousin-, and friends could meet by stealth, without being obliged to half murder each other. N o doubt this is n strong example of what boys can do in tho way of devising rules for their own society. But is probab'c that many of us have been at school the victims of the love of gladia tirialcombats. Among tho ancient Celts, historians toll us that one would occasion-, ally kill himself to amuse the rest. Many, of us have been compelled to fight our most intimate friend, without the gloves, for the entertainment of bigger boys^ At public schools the savage political instincts of boys have been by this time somewhat modified. The condition of a colleger at Eton is very different from what it was in more barbarous days. But, if Winche»tcr boys are still, as ot old, compelled to learn an entirely new language, the traditional Blang of the school, then one fine old exam ple of the grave absurdities of boys survives; to our time. Every one, when he gets into! the sixth, or becomes too big to be easily bullied, believes that bnllyingjhas quite gone out. But. if he judiciously examines the small boys of his school (after ho has lsf t), he will probably learn that cruelties in all respects worthy of the fancy of Apaches or Ojibbeways are still being practised where he had fancied that all was gentle ness and neace. Now, most novelists (ex cept Mr James Payn) seem to have for gotten what being bullied was like. They have forgotten tho tradition ot the junior*, ■Wmtich more complex than the "tradition of the elders," and they are obliged to study the comparatively mitigated and civilised boy whom they seeat home in the holidays. In the holidays, at home or on a visit, the human boy is very like the savag* on a missionary settlement. He keeps his natural instincts carefully in the bick ground, and conforms outwardly to tho habits of civilized lite. He is polite, frank, and modest, and pretends to listen With patience to tales of greai old matcbo9 and runs made long ago. You get the impres sion that your reminiscences of tne mighty men of old, such as were Jackson and Tar rant, Sewell and Wisden, and the rest, are very interesting to your young friend. Bnt what do you know about this youth when he gets back to school and resumes his natural condition as one of tho chiefs of a barbarous tribe? He may be bullyiug, "tunding," playing practical jokes, smoking in secret place?, or studying the works of the learned but irreligious Haeckel.if he chances to beaprccocions man, and not a healthy barbarian. There arc schools in which the elder boys, whose minds should be wholly devoted to Grpek lambics, are really absorbed in modern controversies about evolution, religion, and the descent of manfrom the a«cidian. There are others, and many of them, in which fighting in tho English manner has gone out, and belligerents kick or slap each other, like French boys. The British schoolboy, be tween kicking and evolution, is not what he was, but the barbarian still survives in him. He would no more allow a master to know that he had been cruelly bullied than an Irish peasant would throw light on one of the dastardly murders about which we read every day, if we take the trouble to look at the column in the newspapers which is headed "Ireland." ■= The novelist, as we have said, only knows tho British boy at home, and at home he is not himself. But some novelists arc schoolmasters, or schoolmasters are novelists, and it is an odd thing that they do not seem at all to appreciate their chances. Canon Farrar was a schoolmaster when he wrote " Eric," and a number of other maud lin fables about boys who were vicious, boys who were scntimcntul, but never about boys as they are, with their grave barbaric view of life, and their inability to recognise any but their own code of customs. " Soand so seems a nice little beggar," we once re marked, in what we conceived to be appro-; priate language, to a small boy at the same school as our friend. "Is he a nice little beggar?" said the other; " he does not go on grinds." It appeared: that our friend had been forbidden by his family doctor to pursue other boys who scatter little pieces of paper across country, and are known as hares. A smoll boj at a: large school actually died of exhaustion just outside the school gates after passing some hours of a wintry day in this agreeable pas time. Hence it might seem that "grinds'' arc not always salutary for all boys. ' But our young friend was so persuaded that to go on grinds was a universal duty, that he refused to admit any redeeming qualifies in a boy whose doctor forbade him to go. This'is a pretty fair example of fourth-form savagery, with its (simple convictions and Spartan code. But Canon Farrar's. boys were not of this sort; they were or saints, or an unpleasant mixture of. both characters. And the boys of other school master novelists are no better. 1 hey are always involved in plotd, conspiracies, wild oxlventures. There lies before us a very remarkable periodical, '"The Amc&ba," con ducted. by the boys of Woburn School. We do not know much about Woburn Sohool, but it is fortunate enough to have engaged Morley (wo learn from "The Amoeba") ai grounded bowler. The periodical contains an es»ay on " Ta'es " of " School Life," in which Cannon Farrar's stories are reviewed with some acerbity. "They leave behind them a sickly flavour of little but feeble morals and questionable fact." ■". There is far too much conversation of the 'goody-goody' type, tolerable only, if tolerable at all, on a wot Sunday io. the 'nursery." Canon Farrar's book "sympa-, thizos throughout with the hero in his career of crime." The critic of " The Amoeba" is severe, but not nDJust. He says nothing about, Tom Brown "; perhaps Tom is out of date.

" The Atnceba " contains curious proof of; t'he.giavity and seriousness of boys in long ■reports of debates held by "The Govern anont—and "The Opposition "in the school •debating Boeiety, We have failed to read, these,-but tiien wo admit that we never do aucc.oed in reading the debates of which these are imitations The speeches seem as vapid, tedious, dull, empty, and verbose as any recorded in the " Times." A» ep?ay on tlfe " Future of Whfggism "is headed by the following propositions, whether borrowed or original we know not, but always del'ghk ful !-»atiJ r« "'■ ■

,tyby are the Liberals glad 1 .1 ' t will briefly enumerate the cauß6B ot their joy, nnmeJy :— 1., A fair chance for a civil war. ■ . '/, 2. The expectation of tho monopoly Of. tho Government. • ■ '■ 2. Their hopes of having aU Tories hanged. i. 1 heir consciousness that they ought to be bo themselves.

These are the sentiments of the fine old Scotch Tory of the song :—

Oh, to see good corn upon the rigs And a gallows built to hang tho WhiSP, > ( And the right restored whoi c the right should bo, /. B;Oti, that's the thing that would gladden mo". Another contributor to "Tho "Amoeba" lias beenjeadi'iig -De Quincey, and is justly str'uck'wifh the poveity of his remarks on that1 ancient .. devenitte," the riddle of tbe isjihiiix. A somewhat inconsistent contri bator,,to ."■ The Amcela" signs himaelf "•Tweedledum;" .His topic.is neither.poli tics nor mythology, but cricket. " The cricket of lost season may he said to" have

boon a great success," he declares; and. adds, "in the majority of the matches we havo failed signally" The great success must, therefore, have been purely relative. "Last year," we deeply regret to learn, "the fielders threw it any way,and tin abuse seemed to draw little or no attention from the Captain." Perhaps the Captain was thinking of his speech m the coming debate, or of Ins essay on De Quincey and the SpUinx, or of the Future of Whiggism. Make the Captain wicket-keeper, and he will be obliged to keep his wits about him, is our advice to the editors of the " The Amoaba," whose paper, by the way, is beautifully printed on excellent paper, and is agreeably or disagreeably remarkable for the entire absence of poetry. Like "The Artiste," when edited by Hous?ayc, " The Ammba" "appears every now and then," and has no certain date.

Though we venture to cltave to the opi nion that the average schoolboy, when lit school, is literally a young barbarian, it is fair The small boy, bciore his first term at school, is often an imagina tive little fellow.fond of reading and even of pretry. He soon gets that knocked out of hini,'and enters the grubby stage, abjuring sentiment, and living chiefly on chestnuts, oranges, toffee, tarts, and "sock" in gene ral. In this stage he is a good deal bullied, nnd is initiated by painful ceremonies into the mysteries of the tribe. His hana is against masters and monitors, and every man's hand is against him. When he reads, he reads rjcnny novtls about boy pirates. Thii crabby state gradually alteis as the small boy takes to the use of scent, and to decorating his person with gorgeous ncck ti-s 'in the holidays. Soon after this he either becomes an athlete, a student (very rarely), or a mere ornament ot society nnd man about schabl, so to speak, looking down on foot-ball. These characteristics abide with him till he gets ioto tha sixth, and the eleven, ot gets a scholarship, or takes to writing po:try, or reading about evolution, or collecting china wherewith to furnish his study. And so he ceases to be n boy, and becomes an undergraduate, forgetting his grubby ways (and barbaroas rules of con duct. But in all stages he is loyal to the unwritten laws of his tribe, and will pn durcall things rather than reveal anything to master or pastor. By tho way, before saying farewell to books, this i* the mode in whicli " The Amrcba " sums up " a life worth living." It is " little but the alternatien of exalted brain a«d exhausted reposo.' 1 Fancy poor Morley bowling to boys of exalted brain in their moments of exhausted repots. No wonder]the throwing In to the wicket-keeper is bad, and no;wonder tho Captain neglects to rebuke it. He is enjoying an interval of exhausted repose.

AMERICAN CLIPPINGS.

A.. prominent. Houston journalist was urged by hie friends to get vaccinated. Ha contented, but just as the doctor .was about to lance bis arm, he drew back and asked —"Will it interfere with my drinking?" " How much do you usually drink each day ?'•' "If I can get them, I usually ab sorb ten or fifteen cocktails, the same num ber of sour toddies, and a few glasses of beer, say thirty or forty on a average, and on credit." " You will have to stop that," responded the doctor. "Then I'd rather take the smallpox," replied the journalist. —"Texas Sifting)."

The Editor of the Storm Lake "Pilot " is an easy, graceful writer, but ha has a foreman addicted to smoking. .Recently the editor visited a herd ot skorthorns and wrote them up. The same week there was a concert given by a few young ladica of tha city. The editor wrote thin up also in his mo«tflowery style, but the smoking man, who had been using tobacco very freely, mixed up the two editorials, and they read as follows:—"The concert given by sixteen of Storm Lake's moit beautiful young ladies was highly appreciated. They were ele gantly dressed and sang in a most charming manner, winning the plaudits of the entiro audience, who pronounced them the finest short-horns in the country. A few of them are of a rich brown colour, but the majority are spotted brown and white. Several of the heifers weighed as high as fifteen hun dred pounds, fine bodied, tight-limbed ani mals, and promise to prove good breeders. They are said to be excellent milkers, and as high as twenty-five pounds of butter have been made from one in a single week."

Salvini the actor bad a funny expeiitnce once at a small town in Italy. He took, under an assumed name, some lodgings in an but-of-the-way street, for the purpose of quietly studying a new role. On the day after he moved in he began to rehearse his part. It was a tragic one, and some pas sages were exceptionally thundering. The landlord was out, and his wife and daughter became alarmed at tho noise the new lodger wa3 making. They listened at the door aud heard him howling some thing to this effect; "Miserable coward, thy hand i« strong enough only to plunge the steel into the bosom of an innocent victim ; thou hast not the courage to kill thyself ! Wilt tbou then await the hatchet of the executioner?" The two women became terrified, rushed to the police office, and in a few moments the great tragedian was put in a strait jacket and locked up as a lunatic. It took several hours, with the aid of the local magistrate and the local physician, to clear the matter

up. " Ob, I always talk that way when I have the vertigo." "You do, eh,? And can, anyone sitting within 16 feet of you smell whisky in your breath !" "Yes, sir, I use whisky to lessen the attack." " Well, there's too much vertigo in De troit, and I mnst apply a remedy. I shall fine yoa fi»e dollars. "Yes, sir—just so— for haying the veitigo?" " You can call it that if you want to." "Certainly—ah! here's your money. Kather queer that peo ple are fined for sickness." " And we al ways double the fine fora second attack. Call the next."—"Detroit Free Press."

Better than a title.—A Detroiter who was on a visit to a bright little town in Missouri last fall was invited to attend a select party, and he was hesitating whether to go when one of the committee on invitations urged him : "Why, of course you must come. Let's see. Shall 1 introduce you as General ?" "Oh, no—l'm no general." "How'll Judge—do?" "Butlmnojudge." "Urn, well, we can get over that by caliin!; you the Hon. Mr. ,of Michigan." " But I've no business with the prefix." "Haven't you written a popular poem?" "Never." "But you are the author of a book?" "No." "Urn. Let's see! Would yon object to ' ProfeasoF' before your name 1" " Well, I have no right fo ft.1' "Let's see. Then you are only plain ..Mr.—r^—?" "That's all, and'at home I'm a grocer," ."y-es — plain . Keep a grocery—y-e s. j Have you ever failed?1' '"Yes; I went down." djyring the panic." " Good enough — just the Idea J Come right along to the pa'ty. I'm to introduce you as a Detroit merchant who has foiled js keeping shy for a compromise of 1$ cents on thje ddlar! We've struck jt solid, and I'll warrant you a good time! Sharp s—good day."— •' Detroit Free Press," '.

Brevities.

Oscah Wilde, the poet and high priest of jestheticism, has made the acquaintance of a certain Professor Gunning, in America, who loctjjres on things abominably prac tical, and »008 somewhat deeply into futurity. The poet rectos, in a private letter, that one night his friand gayo a lec ture which he entit'ed" " After man- What ? " and a wag who was presont ex claimed, on hearing the words given out, "Why generally a sheriffs officer, or a woman."- :■; ■ on| ... ' hi' ■■' : ■■•" ■'■•'

11 An wsthete who has been reading Long> fellowsayo;— .. ; ,-,.; I :..' ■ «

Lives of ffisthetsa nfl fpmind us We eah make our rajme»ifc flan, And departing leave behind u» ' , Dadoa of correct design.

The whole of the Indian troopships are to be • illuminated With the electric ' light ib/sfore they commence their next aeries of ■voyages, i'» ' :

0 To me,-says JJfr L,?,bouchere in "Truth," it is a perfect mysteiy y/tyy a^y sane man should wish to be a Baronet. As i&e j^uke of. DGVonshire is reported toiha^e once s soid, ' Ido not know exactly how to treat them, for they are n/ifther noblemen nor gentle men." leanunderajtonida man accepting an order. This is a personajl rejooanition ofi merit. And I can uneleisfand » man! accepting a Peeragp, for many like being at the top of the social tree. But a Baronetcy is neither a recognition of personal merit, nor is it a social distinction. A month seldom passes without one's seeing in the newspapera an account of some Baronet having either died Jin a workhouse, or being nad up before a lEagistrate charged with, some iniquity, Tite hereditary appendage of "Sir" represents to f faye mind absolutely nothing., "If I-have committed a crime," faid an Irishman -to George 111, , who wished, to create him a Baronet, " then ; make me a Knight; but what have my unborn children, dose, that my o#'enQe'shj9))ld be visited on them 1"

A EUROPEAN SCANDAL

From Monaco to Madness.

The following painful story is taken from the "Whitehall Review":—

The Bavon , at Austrian, beloDgirg by his liigli birth to the most aristocratic society of his empire, deputy land member o the House of Lords, husband of a woman his equal in rank, and fnthcr of two grown up SOUS and twe daughters betook himself in a» evil hour to Monte Carlo, to pasa tt few •weeks of leisure. Tempted by the facilities for gambling 30 regularly and so punctually offered by the establishment, ha tried his luck at the tables, and daring the early part of his stay in the Principality, he hud the rare chance, though doubtful fortune to win a hundredthousandfraucg. Stimulated by success, he continued to play, and oxpe rienced the not uncommon fate oE losing in a few hours the sum he had gained in m many days. Naturally, after this, he played still more persistently, lured by the hope of redeeming his losses, and pene trated by the gambler's fixed i<ita, that if lie only pursued long enough, it will be crown ed by,;success. li is ready money exhaus ted, he (ditto hisb»nkerin Hungary for fresh supplies, which all found their way into the coffers of the Administration. It tlien became necesiary for him to borrow money ; find, as his fortuno was bound up iv that of his wife and children, from whom he wished to keep his infatuation .secret, lie was reduced to seek loaus on very dis advantageous terms and from all sorts of people. Every gold piece he could lay hands on was gambled away as soon as he possessed it, and the admirable system practised by the Administration enabled him to devote all his funds to the Casino without inconvenience to himself. As ho stayed at the Hotel de Paris, which is under the direction of the tripot, ho was not obli ged to waste his money upon board ami lodging. His bill was ntier presented to him, aud, so long as he cbulinucd to no cclv» large sums of money from his country and to risk them at tho gaming tables, the uec«ssitics and even the luxuries (if life were not grudged him by tho Direction. Occasional awkwardness, indeed, couW not be avoided; if he dined at tho Cafd do Paris, and had not a coin in his pockc, whilewaiting for a loan, it was rathor gal ling to him to request that the bill for his repast should bo transferred to his running account at tho hotel, aud tho porsoni whq assisted Ht tkis ceremonial sometimes be trayed by a covert sneer their astouinhmcnt rthat so high and mighty a personage as tbo Baron should bo unprovided with pocket money. In the midst of the cubits which tho unhappy man was making to obtain means to continue his frightful shivery, a fresh blow fell upon him in the shape of a letter from his wife. Rendered suspicious by his prolonged absenceand his shoi t inco herent letters, sho had, by diut of prayers and menaces, prevailed. upm tho family notary to reveal the state of affairs to her. She had learnt tho di.mal truth that lur husband, upon leaving ni.s home, had drawn tie sum of v. million and one hundred thou sand franc* from his estate which ho had mortgaged—a sum oE which ho could not pay tho quarter out of his personal property and which could not be p*id at all witluut touching tic fortunes of bis children—his sons, who had attained the nges of twenty five and twenty-seven, and his daughters, who had attained their majority. The receipt of his wife s sad reproachful Utter only heightened the desperate excite ment of the Baron. Every sense of dig nity abandoned him; to gain tho napolcous necessary to enable him topurauo his mania, he did not shrink from the most degrading efforts. He visited mean little cafes and restaurants and pcisuadod the employes to lend him small sunn, condescending also to borrow from the cooks and scullions of the hotel. With a hundred francs at his com mand—sometimes with fifty, or even twenty —ho stole to the tripot to utakc his few miserable coins o» the table to which he had first corno provided with rou leaux of gold pieces and a portfolio well iilled with br.nk notes. Truly it wai a pitiable spectacle to behold this man of sixty years, grand sicgncur in his own country, and en.titled.by his position to consideration wherever he went, now hanging with fe verish anxiety over tho botrd to watch the fate of each five franc piece, and hardly able to restrain his tears as he saw it swept away. The bystanders as a rule, did not trea^iim with revcrenco—lessons of forbear ance and sympathy are not learnt by an in timate acquaintance with the gambling table : the passiou of play swallows up all gentler emotions, and if tho neighbours of the wretched man tboiiKht of him at all, it was with contempt rather than pity. Suc cessful vice laughed in his face and his fellow-losers in the terrible game could not spare him a. nigh. Even tbe gainers by his folly and his mis fortunes wearied of him. When its victims can only lose such pitiful sums as be now brought to the tables, the tripot ce.-ncs to be interested in them, and commences to count the cost of their maintenance. The best rooms at the Hotel do Paris are not destined for gamblers who play with a few five-franc piece? a day, even if they bear sonorous names and are highly placed in the Government of an Empire. Ue«ides, the Direction has a natural h«rror of tragedies, and tries to avoid them by every possible means; nud truly tliere was now on tho worn f«ce of thp unfortuna'c l]aron, .and in his haggard eyes, a sort fif foreshadowing of somedesptrato dsed. So he was watched, and a favourable opportunity for ridding the Principali'y of his presonce was care fully sought. At length there came a day when, goaded beyond'endurance, ho turned away in pale despair from tho tables aud staggerfd rather than walked from the Casino to his room in the hotel. Utterly penniless, having exhausted ercry resource, not daring.to write to his family, shrinking from tho idea of ever feeing again the wife and children ho had injured, wincing at every step he took under the contemptuous glances or the domestics, to whom he could not repay the paltry sums tboy had lent him—what remained for him but to quit a world in which he could no longer live with honour ? Ths seductions of Monte Carlo enervate both mind and body, and this man, who might once have flung from him with contempt the notion of suicide, now wel comed it as a means of escape from the ignominy ho had not energy and resolution to meet, but was too weak to carry out his purpose with sufficient phjs'cal force and nerve. The spits who had watched his departure from tho Casino had followed him to the hotel, and received the informa ation that he had loolied himself into his room. Experienced io such cases, after a minute's delay they fold an attendant to knock at his door. No answer was given. The knock was repeated ; still no answer— nothing bnt dead silence. It was deter mined to fyroak open the door, and when this had been ,done the employes of the Casino b.ebe\d a sight not entirely unfami liar to them. The IJaron was lyjijg qii the floor, covered with blood, senselpas, bnt'npt dead. He had attempted to cut his throat with a razor, bnt his unsteady hand had not given a mortal wound. He was removed from tho spot; advice wns obtained; ho was tended with care—the Casino, on occa sions, can show a st'ange tenderness for its victims, and the rank of the sufferer made a scandal unadvisable ; the doctois patched up the wound, and at the end of ten days the Barpn was pronounced in a fit state to travel. ' :

Ho had not the means fo pndprjtake a journey, but the tripot-~- nlways thoughtful under similar circumstances —was not niggardly now. To the man who had en riched the Administration hy more than a million of franca the sum of four thousand francs was graciously offered, and he was advfsed to leave Monte Carlo for hi* own country with g?ec,teßt possiblcspeed. There is not room on tli c 3so.iWKa.3^'e territory for fruitless troeß; it was famous Jn dsen times for gardeners, and tj»e garfteiiei'S of to-day have not lost the trauL tion of the past; the ties that does not hear is quickly rooted up, and not al lowed to cumber the ground. The Baron disappeared, and l^ft no trace-the administration"''of tip tnpot keeps in such affairs" tlio" moat altetyute n<«ereoy : —I am however, "'able' Kb 'state' that, he reached his home in the town bf A——,, in the South'of Austria, more dead than! &'iye, an,d that compassion and reproaches were rquaUy jn,ci>tfer,ejit to hint, for his mind had become incapable ,of .dJstipgufAh ing either, Though not aragipg njnnjac, nor shut up as futsh in » public asyljjm, Jxp is kept tinder restraint, and his wife ftnfl children^ in addition to their other rnisfoi tune?,' have the m'sery of witnessing tho menfal wreck of the man who should have been their gtfide and prop, whose grey hairs should haye been full or honour, but wbo has been rendered a driveling idioj; by the encouragement given by the tripot of Monte Carlo and the all but universal.[passion of play.

LIFE IN ENGLAND TWO CENTURIES AGO:

A Chatted in Exglish Social History,

[By J. 1). Davis.]

SECTION V

AMUSEMENTS,

The catalogue of popular pastimes is along one, and we shall make no attempt to men tion every item iv it, but shall take a few at random rather than in any particular order. Wo make a beginning with cock fighting, an amusement which maintained its position in public estimation right down to the early years of tho present century. In December IGG3 Pepys wont to see a cock-fight at a now pit in Shoe-lane. He was astonished at tho variety of people he met there, "from Parliament man to the poorest' prentice*, bakers,browers, butchers, draymen, and what not; and all these fel lows one with another cursing and betting. I soon had enough of it. It is strange to sec how people of this poor rank, that look as if they had not bread to put in their mouths, .shall bet three or four pounds at a timo, and lose it, and yet bet as much the next batt!e,so that one of them will lose £10 or £20 at a mooting/ Hull-baiting was another b.ulalsport much patronised by the lower orders. In the summer of IGCO Pepys took his wife to the Bear-garden where they saw "some good sport cf the bull's tossing the dogs," but, ho adds, "it is a rude and nasty pleasure." Fdur years later the good Evelyn was present at the same place with a number of friends to witness the same amusement. He characterises it as a " butcherly sport " and a " barbarous cruelty." He goes on to describe how oue bull tossed a dog full into a lady's lap, as she sat in a box at a considerable he'ght above the arena. At tho same place there was aii exhibition of dog-lighting, and he rclatei that au Irish wolf-dog beat a "cnel mastiff," ficar-baiting was also popular, The Puritans wore not extraordinary in having tbcstrongcul aversion to it. Prynno in " Hiitriomnstix " proved it anti Chris tian from the canons of the 6th Council of Constantinople ; and Colonel Pride was de rided in a loyal ballad for his zeal in suppressing it. The knight iv Uudibray, it will be remembered, exhibited an equal detestation of the cruel game. Pepys was also witness of a prize-fight at thi) Bear-garden, a place devoted, it would seem, to coarse and degrading pastimes. The battle was between a soldier and a countryman, "who promised tho lea«t in his looks, and pertormcit the most of valour in his boldness and evcniess of mind, and smiles in all he did, that ever I s.vv ; and wa1 were all both deceived and infinitely taken with him." Pepys describes tho light with evident relish.

The' nights wliich F<tirs afforded had at tractions even for the refined and scholarly Evelyn. In September IGGO he visited Southwark Fair, where ho saw monkeys and apes dance the high-rope, salute and bow to the audience, turn head over heels with lighted candles iv tueir hands, baskets of eggs and vessels of water. He a'so witnessed the feats on the high-rope cf an Italian girl, whom all the Court went to see. There was a man there who took up " apiece of iron canon " weighing 4001 bs., wl;h the hair of his head. Elsewhere, Evelyn relates how ho had seen a tame lion play familiarly with a lamb; a sheep with sis ltgs which used five in Walking ; and a gooae with four legs and two crops. While in London on another occasion Evelyn stopped iv to see a famous r.-pe,dancer, krio*n as the "Turk," who appears to huve b»en the Blondin of the time. At tlu tamo place there was on exhibition a hairy woman, aged twenty, who hailed fruin Augsburg in .Germany. " Her very eye-brows were combed up wards, and all her forehead as thick and even as grows on any woman'B head, neatly dress'd ; a very lung lock of hairo ont of each cue ; she had also a most prolix beard, ami luuatachiss, with long locks growing on tho middle of her iioho, like au Icclanu tioji exactly, the colour of a bright brownc, fine aa well-dress'd llax." No doubt the enterprising l'aniiun of the period found this hirsute lady a.very mine of wealth, for monstrosities like tins were oven more attractive to the populace generally than they are now.

ihe following quotation from Pepys (August 14th, lo'u'G ) makes an interesting and instructive picture of the manners of the time. "Wo went into Mrs Mercer's, and there Uliuhty merry, smutting oil' another with caudle grease and soot, till most of us were like devils. And that being done, then we broke up, and to my house ; and there I made them drink, and upstairs we went, and then fell to dancing, (\V. Batolidr dancing well) and dressing him a»d I and one Mr Buni>.tcr](kc women; and (Mrs) Mercer put on a suit of Tom-, liko a boy, and mighty mirth we had, and Mercer danced a jigg j Nan Wiight and my wife and Pegg Ponn put on porriwiggs. Thin we spent till three or four in the morning, mighty merry ; and then parted and to bed." Pepys might well insist that they were mfrry ; but according to our ideas they indulged in nmuscmen s scarcely re lined enough to accord with their position.

Dancing regained its p 'pularity after the Puritan sup emacy declined. A more vigorous and lively style of dancing had conic into favour, as may bo judged from what Seldcn says in his "Tabln Talk"— " The Court of England is much altered. At a so'cnin I^.incing, first you had the grave Measures, then the Cnrrantoes and Ua'liards.and this kppt np with Ceremony; at length to Trttiohißore, and the Cushion Danco, and then nil the Company dance, Lord and Groom, Lady and Kitchon Moid, no d:stinctlon. So in our Court iv Queen Elizabeth's timo, gravi'y and state were kept up. In King James's time thing* wer« pretty well. Hut in King Charles's time, there hai been nothing out Trenchmoro, and the Cushion Dance, omnium gatherum, tolly polly, toito come toite." Mr Edward Urowno (-on of Sir Themas Browne) of Norwich, in his journal under date of January Ist, ICG4, describes tho festivities kept up during the preceding Christmas tide at the mansion of tho Dukp uf Nor folk's brother. He writes, " Thoy had dancing every night, and gave entertain ments to all that would come ; lice built up a roome on purpose'to dance in, very large, and hung with tho bravest hangings I ever saw; big candlesticks, snuffers, tongues, iireshovels, and andirons Wfre silver; a banquet was guen every night after dan cing ; and three coaches were employed to fetch ladies every afternoon, the greatest of which would hod fourteen persons, and cost live hundred pound without the bar nestp, which cost six score more."

Ganrng became a very fashionable pistimcwith pcr'ons'of rank and wealth during the Second Charles's reign. ' Two years after the Restoration Evelyn writes, " This evening, according to custome, his Majesty open'd the revclls of that night by throwing the dice himselfe in the privy chainb'pf, where' was a table set on purpose, and lost his £L3O. CPbp yparo'before he won £1,5C0 ) The lad}es ajso plaipd vpry deere. I came away when the Duke of Ormond had won about £1,000 and loft them, still at passago, cards, etc." With maDy another sensible man he deplored the growina frivolity and. looseness of the Court, which ought to have set an example to tho rest of the natioD.

The English have been reproached bj foreigners with possessing a melancholy pfolpginatic disposition, and with even arousing tjjprnsejypg »adly. ?here may be tiuth in the charge, but if thbi'P is, there has never, at any time, been any lack of pastimes of the most diverse varieties, Wo have spoken of a number of the indoor diversions of the seventeenth century, and will now allude lo »omeof those conducted in the open air. Charles II was, as is well known, fond of horserjeing, and he revived tho sport out of the disfavour into which it had' ftiilpif1 in Puritan times. •He was a regular attendant at Ne\»/m<irket, Datchct, and Epsom, It is related in a}l the scjiopl histories howltumbold thomaltstor.proposed to shoot the king as the latter passed his house, known a* the Ilyo House, on th road from Newmarket. Horse-racing, as a public sport, dates from tho reian of Jam"s I.' before t^at time rac°s were run for the amusement of private persons, but in an imaci'enrific 'manner, without forms and regulations. The prize was' almost invariably a silver bell; though a piece of pjate was sometimes given, jjesides Jlbrs6 rapf'nt! thijre \vc.s an older anivisemenr' still, yiz,, huptinc, ia which, ag npne b'uj; perspns of fortune and rank could partipi r pate. Hawking, too, had npt yet Ijscom'e obsolete. .Evelyn move than once mentions that he went hawkin?, e.g., (22' id August! 1654) :"I went a setting and hawkingl! where we had tolerable sport." One of the fliwmcitis persona;. of Jzaak Walton's "Angler" is a Falconer,-who informs his two companions, the Anglpr and tho Hunter,

that he is going as far as Theobalds, where n friend "mews a hawk for him. (To "mew" was to shut up close : the modern " mows," for horses, shows a contraction in the meaning of tho word.) Selden at least twico in the "Table Talk " lias references to the sport, and mentions the fact that hawks were tamed by watching. Shakspcrc alludes to-the pr dice several times, as in ■'Otaello " Desdemona says to Cassio :—

•f'l'll'wateh'hfm (her husband) tame, and talk him out of patience."

The poet Quarles must have been familiar with tho practice of falconry,for he founds a conple ofhis rjuaint "Kmblemn " upon it. The following is worth quoting:—

" Like as the liagnrd, cloistor'd iv her mow To scour her downy robes, and to renew

Her broken flags, preparing t'overlook The tiin'rous mallard at the sliding brook, Jets oft from perch to porch; from stock In ground; From ground to window; thus surveying round Her dove-befentherccl prison, till at length, her ratrsed henk Nips ofl'lior danglinpr jesses, strives to break Her jinglliiß fetters, and begins to bate. At ov'ry Kliinpse, and darts at cv'ry grate: K'on so my weary soul,"eto.

[llagard : a wild hawk. Flasts : winß-feathers. Mallard ! a drako. Jets : hops. Hlook : porch. Jesses ; leathern thonifs which tied on I lie hawk's bells, Hate: llnltcr her wings, (irate : lattioe.]

Iv Januars 1081 the frost was so severe and prolonged that the Thames was frozen over, and an extensive fair wits ennied on in booths and tents erected on the ice. The various amusement* and pastime < provided for the public arc thus describ d by Evelyn: "Coachos plied from Westminster to the Temple, and from several other staires to and fro, as in thestroqts, sleds, sliding with skeete?, a bull-baiting, horse ami coacji races, puppet plays and interludes, cookes', tipliug, and other lewd places, so that it secru'd to bo a bacchanalian triumph, or carnival on the water."

We have yet to eponk of an amus -ment which was patronised as generally as any we have hitherto mentioned. Wo mean the theatre. As soon as the Puritans had got the upper baud in the Metropolis (1042), the theatres were closed by an ordinance of the Long Parliament. This mandate was neglected or disobeyed, and in October, 16-17,a new one was drawn up for the better suppre:ionof stageplays.iiitoi hides ami com mon play*. Players were also declared rogues a»d vagabonds, and might be dealt With accordingly. The next year, afier much discussion, and many messages between Lords and Commons, an Act was passed of a most stringent character. All theatres and places where plays were repre sented, iv London, Middlesex, and Surrey, were to bo destroyed; offending actors might bo whipped ; all moueys taken at the doors of places where plays were aett d were forfeit to the poor ; and spectators rendered thenuelvcs liable «o a fine of live shillings each. So great,was the loveof the peoplefor dramatic amusement that itrolling players wero soon able to set the law at defiance. It is probable that inch breaches wero pretty ofieti connived at by the nobility ami others, whose great lioiues formed a welcome asylum for a por tion of the persecuted actors. Some of them went into tho king's army, others ex ekinged the stajo for trade, while the rest ran the risk of whippings and imprisonment, and surreptitiously practised the calling they loved. After Cromwell's death Sir William Davenant and Thomas KilKgiew began openly to revive the drama, and represented various plays at the LVk Pit. At the Restoration a couple of theatres were licensed, tho King's and the Duke's ; and hero the comedios of Cunnreve, Drydon, Yunbrugh, Wychorlcy, Parquhar, and other playwrights wero represented. Popys was a mo»t persistent patron of the stage, and his diary is full of notices of the plays ho went to see, lnoldentally he lets us know what the pries of admission to the theaties were. The pit was two and six pence, but there wero cheaper places to which entry tni'uht be had for eighteen ponce and oven a shilling. For several years, prior to lOCS, he had, for reasons of economy, patronicd tho less expensive *o.its of tho play houses. The character of tho dramas issuing from tho pens of thu writers named above, and, finding favour with n numerous public, in eluding Uc king, court, and nobility, is too well-kuown to need elaborate description. The rcao'.ion from the outward decorum and decency uf Puritan times was tremen dous. 'I here was one bound across the gu f separating sobriety and apparent morality from debauchery and license. Clurlcs set the vicious example, and not uiiuaturally his people followed. The plays loved by tho p«blii', and willingly supplied by the favourite dramatic authors, were a fairly accurate reflex if the manners of the time. " This part of our literature," says Macaulny, "i<a disgrace ti our lan guage, and our national character. It is clevor indeed, and very entertaining ; bnt it is, ill the most emphatic sense ot the words, 'earthly, sensual, devilish. I On this division ■ f our subject it U unnecessary to dwell further. Tho objectionable litera ture of the Seoond Charles's reign is difficult of access, a fortuna'c ciraiinjstanco, as it might continue to disseminate its foully immoral teaching ; hut all needful informa- • tion may be readily learned from Macau lay's essay dealing with it. Wo will not, however, close this Sec tion without adducing soinp oxjdpnce of tho iiogloot into which Shak< pere's dramas were allowed to fall. The views of Samuel Ponys, who was constantly cither at the King's House or at the Duke's, may be taken as those of the average play-goer of the, time. Ho was ail observant and fairly well educated man; and accustomed to pass jiulgmon's on what he hea d and read. Ho was probably neither before nor behind hie time. Of "Othello" ho says (August 20th. 10GG), " I ever heretofore e>teemed it a mighty good pay, but having so lately rend 'The Adventures' of Five Iloures' it seems a mean' thing." Tho dr.ima here preferred to Shafcspcre's prcat tragpdy is now as Jittle knqwu a* its author, Sir Samuel Tuke. ''Midsummer's Night's Dream" fares no better with Pepys, who saw it on one occasion, and vowod never to see it again, aa it was the " moM; insipid ridiculous play" he had over witnossor). Even ''Henry IV" scatoely pleased him j though he doos bosUw a word of prai'O on Cartwright's delineation of Falstaff, (November 2nd, 1067). "The Merry Wives of Winds >r" also failed to entertain Mr Pepys; "Macbeth" is at one time a' "pretty good play," at another "a most csocUent, play fur variety," at a third "a most excellent play in all respects, but especially iv diverlisemont, though it bo a deep tragedy." No Shakspcriau play recivfs hkhcr commendation than this at the bauds of cm critic. On tbe other hand "The Tempest," a production »f the great dramatist's .naturfd powers, comes off badly. Pepys considered it possessed "no great wit," and a-'ded with a tone, ot delicious superiority, "but is yet g^od above ordinary plays." "The 'Jcmpest" was cut about and altered by D.ivenant.who inserted indecency with song and tpectacle and reproduced it under the title of " Tbe Enchanted Island.'- The faqt that the mutilation of Shakspcre's plays ' was tolerated is anotjicr testimony to the absence of appreciate n and reverence with which they had come to be regarded. fo pic'so the town "Merry Wives" became " The Comcal'Gallaht,' " Richard II." re appeared' a'1" "Tho Sicijian Usurper." " King jLear," "Macbeth," "Much Ado," and " Measure for j^tc'asn're," a}J s'ufjpred more or less from tlfo tcudpr njercics of the vandals.

In this connection jt maybe mentioned as a facf; iUnstrative pf the ppirjt pprvading the authois of the tjnip, t|i^t Dryden, who pretended great respect for the' genius of Milton, showed it in au oiid way. In 1C74, the year of Milton's death,"he turned "Paradise Lost" into an opera entitled, "The State of Innocence and the Fall of Man-" :H W«P URt ■ »otpfl %t was wrjtten with a view to spectacle,

Popular Delusions.

That leasea arc made for 090 years because a lease for 1,000 years would create a free hold.

That in order to disinherit an heir at-law it is necessa-y to give him a shilling by the will, for that pth erwise he wouldbc entitled to the whole property, That a funeral puling over any place makes it a public highway. That the body of a debtor may be taken in execution after his death.

That a man marrying a woman who is in debt, if he takes her from the hands of the priest clothed only in a single undcr-gar merit, will not be liable for her engage ments. '

That secon<J. coiisins may not marry, though first cousins ;m&y. ' " •'• That |he hjjijb'arid' bs? the power ofdi yorpirjg |hjs wife' by selfipg lipr'in 'fiperj market with a lialtpr rouncTiier npc'k. That a woman's marrying a manjpidpr the gallows will save him from execution. That if a criminal has been hung, and revives, ho cannot afterwards be executed. These,, and. some other fallacies, equally absurd, are yet fully belioved in by many.

THE QUEEN AT HOME.

Life at Windsor Castle.

COMMANDED TO WINDSOR,

The Queen never resides at Windsor Castle for more than four months in each year, and it is only during that period th.at her Majesty can be said to live in sovereign state, The rigid etiquette of (.he English Court is never relaxed at Windsor : hut at Knlmoral and Osboroe it is a comparatively i|itiot life, with no gucsla except an occ.'i >ional Minister or member of the ltoyal Family, with hardly n ceremony in a, month, and with a reduced Court, for, except fo an odd day or two tor special occasions, Hie Queen never taices either Lords or Grooms in-Wailing to her private residences. When at Windsor, <m I lie contrary, the Castle is an almost perpetual stream and scene of hospitality. Ministers, Ambassador.-', the '■old nubility," notable pei'ROlingCß of eve>y description, and members of ihe Royal family, are coming and going n]most daily ; and not n week pusso* Imt there is some ceremony of State, involving tin; attendance of the great oflicera of the Household. Invitations to Windsor were formeily for two and somotimci three uig'uts, which gavo the guest an opportunity of having .some oiiiet conversation with the Queen, and allowed lime for him to view the Illiig nilicent collection of picture-i and objects of art with which every part of the Cattle is crowded, or to pass a few hours ill the library, which contains a very line election of books and prints. Of hit's years, how e* or; ordinary invitations have been for one night only—an arrangement which pre cludes the possibility of the visitor enjoy ing himself as he did formerly, and which is positively disadvantageous to tin; Queen, as when on the intervening day the guest used to be conducted to the aviaries, ken 'hols, farm, r and gardens, it often transpired that at home he possessed some bird, dog, beast, implement, or plant, which was not to he found iv tho Hoyal domain; and, when this was the case permission was usually requested to be allowed to supply the deficiency, so that in this way the Queen received a great number of valuable presents. Invitations now are merely 10 dine and sleep, and they are usually sent by Sir John Cowell, the Master of the Household, but occasionally from the Lord Chamberlain's ollleo. An a rule, very short notice is given. A command (which it is, dc facto) has been known to reach a guest late on the afternoon of the very day on which he was expected at the Castle. ltoyal guests, leave Paddington either at five or at half-pust six. On arriving at the visitors' entrance of the Ciistle, they are received by the pages of the chamber, who, after consulting a table on which, i-acii person's location is written out, conduct the guests to their respective apartments. The visitors' rooms are spacious, warm, and thoroughly comfortable; they are hung with interesting pictures, and each contains a largo bath, with a perpetual hot and cold supply. If the guest is -known to anyone in waiting, he will probably be speedily looked up by his friend ; if lie is acquainted with a lady of the household, he may be bidden to drink tea with her, In any case, ho prob kbly receives a visit from Sir John Cowell. About hiilf-past auven it is time to prepare for the Queen's dinner-party, as it is indispensable to appear at Uio Royal table in full dress. The old and ugly Windsor uniform is usually worn bj those who have a right to it.

Sion after eight, the visitor fi»ds his way into the grand corridor, where the dinner c.mpany assemble. This noble gallery, whieii extend* nil round the pad. rangle, is hung from end to ciul with pio turcs, and is Tilled with cabinets of china, vases, and ot'icr exfjuisito obj eta. It would look splendid with the cloctrio light, but at pn.suut it U sparsely illuminated with lamps. '1 he Ciinulottis and tlie por traita are the special features of th.: gallery, which, of coiiiso, i« never shown to the public, Tlicro are particularly admirable portraits of Mr Canning, Mr Pitt, Lord Thurlow, and Archbishop Mjikliam ; ami close to the entrance of the dining-room is a portrait of Lord Beaconsfio d. But it would take hours even to give a cursory glance at the contents of the corridor. Ilic collection of china is uiiiqill'. There is a little cabinet of Kosc dv Barri, ot which it was said by a connoisseur that if put up at Christie's, the first bid would be £20,000. li is rather a blut lhat tliero arc several daubs of notable events in the Queen's reign, principally of a domestic irdor, and it is a pity that these are not relegated to a back mom. One or two of them are interesting from the portraits, especially one of the Queen s hrst Council, which includes alun st every eminent man of that period. Mr Charlc* Gievillo is particularly good in thn picture. Shortly af'cr lialfrpast eight the Queen niters irpm her own private apartments, followed tiy iMnpesj ijeatrice. }(er Ma jesty speaks a word or two, to thp vjsitors, and then al} go to dinner. Ihe ulivate din ii)g-room, which opens from thp corridor, is a most comfortable- apartment. T|}o Queen always lunches in this room, '"id dines there when her pnrty does not exceed six teen. The further side is almost all win dow, looking into the quadrangle; tlio walls on each side of the door are covered with splendid tapestry, which was presented to William IV. by Louis Philippe, There arc only two pictures—the Queen (by Angcli) at ono end, and the Duchrss of Edinburgh at the other. The dinner is always very good, the carte being well conceived mid well executed, and the diners excellently served. On the menu the iiamo of the C!iok who is resp 'lisiblc for each (}ish is written opposite to it; so ttiat praise and bja'mo pan be equitably dispensed, Chinnpagnp and plarpt aie thp wiijcs usually tak.cn. Thorp js a. large cellar of very fine old, porf, at the Castle, but vpry littlp is now consumed, nor is shony, which was the favourite wine of William IV. in great request. In Prince Albert's time, Tokay always appeared, us he invariably draok ono glass after dinner; and as a supply was served every Christ? mas by the Emperor of Austria, ]ip ppf tup best that could be had. The Itoyal dining room is quite a brilliant spectacle, aud the first timo a visitor " has the honour of dining," he is very likely to lose his dinner while lqpking round the room.. John Brown, in full Highland drosa, is atationcd hohiiul tho Qnccu's chair, and ooQisionally the other "personal servant," Lohlein (who was Prince Albert's confidential valet) is also to be seen hovering nbout. There are footmen in their Slate liveries, pages and cellarmen in their respective unifouns, and the clerks of the kitchen, who carve at the side-table. < n ordinary occasions they are in plain black with kiieo-brccchis, but tit huge dinners ihey appear in ther uniforms. While the Queen is dining, the ladies and gentUnien of iho Household arp taking their motil in tho large lilning.rboin, v der tlic presidency of Sir Joliii Co-veil; the room opens into the lirst of the three principal drawing-rooms, and is at the northeast corner of the Castle; and the finest view from the whole place' is ob tained from its windows. Tho Qnceii dines here when she has a party of'from twen yto thirty. On the very rare occa sions wjiou the number is still largpr, n'nd it b'ecpnies all affajr of a Slate liannuct, St. Georgp's Hall is pep. The'Quepn leaves the room with the ladies^ and in two or thrpp niiiiute<i thp gputlemen fpllpw, and. fhpn coijips the pnly pprspnaj interco^rsp that takes plapq ppwpprj a fiuesji' and_t!(e host, as hey Majestjr remains in the corridor for perhaps half-an-hour, and converses for )i tew minutes with each visitor in suc cession, after which she bows to tho circle and retirps. The' guests an(| liQUsphold tlipn »djoii'rji intq t(ip Ovimsqn fir Qrecn Drawing-room (thcro is some wonderful Chippendale work in this room, whioh would bo tho despair of ordinary dilettanti if they could see it), and the ove'uing closes with music and whist. Tho rooms contain numerous cabinets of priceless china. The Queen'passes the evening in conversation with Princess Beatrice, or in reading, or Writing, or in listening to a reader, tither in her own silticg-roow, or in the adjoin ing one, which was formerly used by itrincp Albert, fiflth ayp jnyapply lighted UD. dandles arp used for the illuiiiiuatictt of hey Majesty's) private rooms. There is an excel out billiard-room, where fmoking is allowed and cooling dunks are to he obtained. The idea that the regula tions as to smoking arc of iDConvenicnt stringency is qui'e illusory. There are smoking rooms, not merely for the house hold and guests, but for the upper and ordinary servant*. It is impossible to grant libbrty £1. guests to smoke in their own rorijns, as t|ie"next pgr^ori might c(i§''ke smell, and after a' niglit'a.'opcapation by some of the' German visitors, one wonld fintj an atn'iospliere papable of curing a WVatphalian |)4m, Jn thp rnPfn'llg tjipre is daily pcrvido at! nine o'clock iiithe pri vate-chapel, conducted by the Dean of Windsor, but as [visitors .are expected to

leavo'by the eleven o'clock train, they have quite.eiioneh to do to get their breakfast cornfortablw, unless they arc very earJy. There are two breakfast tables going on, and the meal can be obtained in one sown room if wished. It is etiquette that the Queen invariably breakfasts in private, and either alone, or only with persons of the blood royal, so that the visitor s inter course with" her Majesty is confined to a greeting before dinner, a chance observation during the meal, and a few minutes of conversation in the corridor after it-unless, indeed you .arc a Minister, in winch cn.se you may bo honoured with a private audi ence in'the White Drawing-room. The Queen and Prince Albert were up very curly in the morning, being usually at business or out by eight o'clock, but now her Majesty rarely appears before nine. If it is fine, the Queen then drives to Frog ranvft iii tin open carriage, and there break fasts in the hotise, unless the weather is very hot, when her Majesty takes the meal in a tint on the law», and reads her private letters and newspapers. The Queen never takes up a newajaper that has riot been previously lionised by a lady-in-waiting, who marks all the passages which she thinks would interest her Majesty, who is supposed to look at nothing that is not marked. Afterwards tho Queen poes to another room or to another tent, and pro ceeds to the business of tho day ; there are seldom less than twenty, and often more than thirty, boxes to be gone through, and a groom is kept Constantly riding between the Queen at Frogmorc and Sir Henry Pon sonby at the Castle. There are de.-patchc-, Slate-papers, letters from Ministers, and, what are quite as troublesome, t*n thou sand tiresome tiiflcs, each one of which must bu carefully gone into and decided upon, to say nothing of private business of every descripi ion. After about three hours of incessant work, her Majesty drives back 10 the Castle with tbe boxes in the car riage, and they are taken up-stairs on a tray, and sorted and despatched by Sir Henry Ponsonby. Then her Majesty lunches with Pimcess Beatrice and any o her members of her family who are at the Castle ; and, unless there is any cere mony of state appointed for the day, they afterwards take a walk in tbe sunken gardens or on the slopes, and later go out for a drive. On their return they retire for a little necessary rest befere preparing for dinner, which brings the day's visitors. The only part of ttie Queen's daily routine which never varies is the morning work, which conies as regularly as that of tho cleik in the city, and everything is done by her Majesty with conscientious thorough ness.

The Queen looks into evcirything herself, and the public have lit'le idea of the pro digious number and variety of tbe subjects which come before her for decUion. it \u an axiom amongst all who have served the Queen that if they can only get iheir case: looked into by her Majesty, strict justice is assured. At Windsor her life is moie laboiious than elsewhere, from the inces sant visitors and ceremonies, and the im possibility of getting away from the pomp and pageantry of a Court. There is nothing which her Majesty so much dislikes at the Castle as the innumerable sentrie», who are everywhere to be seen, and whose monotonous tramp never ceases along the east terrace, underneath the windows ot the private apartments.

An Irish Resident Magistrate's Precautions.

Major TrAill, R.M., in a letter to the Dublin papers, endeavours to allay the panic wlrch has been exoited by recent murders, and to point out how porsons ex posed to danger should bo protected. He divides the "objectives" into two classes, lnrge and small. In the former are included magistrates, landlord.'), agents, and such of the gentry as have from any cause become obuoxionsj in the latter are the tenant fanners or pesantry, who, from paying rent or any cause, have become "objectives." Tlin large class must be defended by police ami military; the small class can defend themselves. Beloncing to the former class him elf, he graphically describes the precau tions wli ifh he tak"9. They exhibit a curious picture of life. He says :—My guard con sists of four policemen, divided daily into lirst and second escort and outer and inner guard. The first and second escort accom pany me wherever I g<>; one armed with a Windiest, i rille, carrying a round ready to lie lived, and 15 extra rounds iv pouch ; the other armed with a double-ba'relied gun leaded with buckshot, and eight extra rounds. I carry a revolver ana six spare rounds, so that I never move about with less than 25 cartridges ready to be fired in as many sec mis and 34 cat fridges in leseryc, besides which I generally taTce a" reyolypr and 50 rounds for sale to any good rn,an who wishes to be able to defend hjmgelf. As I drive along, every'suspicions wqod or stone wall or bank that nii«ht harbour an assassin is reconnoitred by my eepqrt, who go into a woqd, &c, at full spepd, antf like a pack of founds, sparptly pausing me to pheck, the speed of my hqrsea, aii4 aa J approach my own lvuse my escort ieaYe my trap,! aiid beforo I oan drive down my avenue every plantation has been thoroughly searched, and at full speed, the men working' when necessary to atiy whistle call. The escort take all night patrol* from 10 p.m till daylight, lying in ambush and searching for explosive* wMi a retriever and a thoroughbred bulldog. The outer guard goes om with my wife or children or carriage, the inner guard remain at home and about the premises. All day duties and pat ols from daybreak till 10 p.m. are taken by the guard ; all escort! duties on me and'night dutids from (t'p'.m. ti^l 'daylight nejetday are tii^cin'tj t'hp psc.p,rt. No one poises flear my place \Yithp,u,t being met by a policeman, who remains with, him and sees him off the premises when hie duty is com pleted My police have orders to arrest and bring before me any oue found unlawfully on any of my premlsos not belonging to the establishment. At no moment of the twenty-four hours, waging or sleeping, eat iilg or {Jrinking, is a revplvpr out of ipapb, qf my l^and. and ray wjfp has hpr revolver and knows hpw tq use ft."

The Orange Trade in the Azores.

(I'rom the Gardener's Chronicle.) In a review of the produce of tho Azores, dated about tho middle of last year, it is stated that the orange trade shows indica" tions of decline; 220,678 " nialote " boxes of or.angfip, of the value of £42,312, were exported to England, and notwithstanding this apparen'ly largo number tho suason was stated to be a most dis^strqv.s ono for Mifihaol'g, iho orange trade every year getting Icjs and less, and the population emigrating because they m-c unable to find employment and subsistence. Several cir enmstanecs, however, have tended to cir cumscribe the exportation of oranges to England ; firstly,''tho old trees liavo been left, young ones have not been planted in sufficiently large n'umb.grg 'to, rop'cjpe the pki ones, aiu} a (jon:psnond|ng (huwnution qf f^np. orang'c§ has b.eey Ihe vcst^ltj secondly, a series of rajny seasp^s has paused the oraiigbs to drop off before n^at^r;ty. In stead of 401,191 " niaV'tes " or flat bo\es of oranges, which Avpyp pjfpprtpd 187P and npar|y a3 n.)apy in pnly 220,678 werp exported lflsit. >'P?V ri t).Pi»g littlp iu.ove thfvn half. On the athev h,aft(l the anticipated failing off of tbe orange trade has stimu lated the cultivation of pine-apples, which lias been, Vflteed tp 57,233 pii^es exported, difriiig thp spaso.n u«cler vpviow ngiiinst 83,207 and 39,800 exported in 1878 and 1879 respectively. Hut what has tended me o than anything to paralyse the orange trade with England has boon the arrival of oranges from Valentin, in Spain, and the islands of tho Mediterranean. In 1872, 417,020 cases of oranges were exported to Great Britain from Valentia", and in 1878 this trade had increased to 645,000 cases, and no doubt during the last two years the importatiod of oranges to England must have been more important- \t }s atatpd furthpr fhat another causp of the djrainn iion of this lyad> has ucoii the employment of steamships instead of sailing vessels; for one of these large steamers will take six ! times as many oranges as the f»rmer sailing ships did, and on that score landing in England at one lime, and delivering in a few weeks the whole of the Azorescrop of oranges, and meeting at the same time the shipments from'Valentia, the iharkdt W England became glutted, and, thig af a eps •\yjntpr s'ea*jsn whs> thp state p,f the weathev limi'ed the ■pbns\nnpt|on.

When a njcp yo^ng man askeflthphright daughter of an undertake* her father's pro fession, she promptly replied : "He s a planter.l^ Sho cbnlda't tell a lie about ft little thinß like that,

A Strange Trade.

FOR along time the head of the Paris Post, oflico has heen at a loss to know what be comes of the old postage-stamps, which are collected by millions, anil also whether the obliterating stamp could he removed from, them. Two facts were ascertained beyond doubt; the monasteries and convents were the chief receptacles of the stamps in ques tiori, and the religious houses, although keeping up a large correspondence, were never known to purchase new stamps. Fortunately, the mystery has now been cleared up. The faithful nre invited to contribute old postage-stamps for charitable objects, and these are sold to regular dealers, ilfthereligioiis houses'do not pnr« chase new stamps direct, they purchase them indirectly from the priests who officiate at the shiines of La Salette, Lourdes, Notre Dame d'Auray, Sdez, etc., who are generally paid for masses in postaee- Stamps.- One ecclosiastic at Lonrdes receives daily stamps to the value of some £8. These stamps are sold to the religions houses. Not long ago the police received notice of tbe arrival of a box filled with old postage-stamps addressed to M. Gnlli, Rue de la Bastille, and after its delivery they searched the house and discovered that M. Oaili was engaged in a perfectly legitimate trade ; they had constantly a million of old stamps in stock ; that the commercial value of the box seized was £800; that a regular market is held on Sundays and ffite days in the Avenue Gabriel, for the pur chase and sale of stamps ; that this market is sometimes attended by as many as 300 people ; tlwt a journal is printed every month ia the Kuo dv Holder devoted to poH.age-.siamp\ their price, etc.; that there arc live tradesmen in Paris who dial in stamps, ami who have regular agents abroad; that the religious houses get about £20 a million for their old stamp", and that the merchants clear about £100 a million.

National Characters.

Enciush, Scotch, and Irish have each their p-culiar constitution of mind, which a great wit once illustrated by their different modes of answering a question, Askiin English man what you please, and he replies promptly but seriously, like a person who means business Put the same question to a Scotchman, he deliberates and answers warily, or meets you with a cross question. But deaire an Irishman to have the goodness to reap aid, and he immediately makes a joke. Three choice spirits dining on a certain day at a>'tavern in London fell to discoursing upon national character, and one proposed to test the wit's remark. Agreed. The spokesman of the party calls a waiter and aocoats him thus-•• Thomas, wlut would you take to sit for a night out. side St. Paul's?" Thomas, smardy, "A guiuea, sir." "Good; go and find us a Scotchman." Thomas returning shortly afterwards with a Caledonian of his acquain tance, the question is repeated, "Well, Sawney, and what would you take to sit all ni«ht outside St. Paul's»'' sawney, af era pause, and in a slow up-and-down* hill t'>ne, '• Whaat would ye gie ?" A por ter from the Emerald Isle is similarly summoned, and similarly interrogated. " Now, Paddy, my boy, what would you take?" and so forth. Paddy, archly, " Faith, then, I'd take a bad cowld !" Tho truth of the illustration had been trivm phantly vindicated. This story lias been told in several forms, but the above is the manner in which it origiually appeared.

Prize Fight in a Church.

Tbeue was a great fuss made in England recently about what was termed" a prize tight in a obureb." The police "copped" both men and their seconds and sworo horrible things, amongst others, that one of the principals had knocked hit man down and then Kicked him, and that the crowd had bashed b ,th men with sticks. The referee "fat upon tho altar" &c, &c, ad nauseam. It turns out that the "chnrch" wa« a building that had once been used by an inspired shoemaker or somo other tuch horror, and bud been disused tor some time. The altar was a myth, and iiauinbedy must have sworn to some feartui untruths. The referee came to England, after having gone on tbc Con. tintnt, and gave himself up to the T»ol,ic.a wiih a view of proving the •' Cope "• to ha,Ye been guilty of gross perjury. Eyen th.a police could only $wi»t thp affair into a, glove fight, qne man saying the caaiha.ta.nts wore •'wicket-.kpepinc glovea," another said ". lightly-padded bo.xing gloves," a,nd the officer of the pa,rty,the hardest swearer, by-the-by, g^id ''ordinary sji.ia Rjoves,1' The referee sweaya tba,t wbr f t' were used were ordinary boxing glovrs, fully padded. As for tun kicking and hitting witti sticks* ie ii hardly likely that seconds, referee, and crowd, would stand by and see anything at the kind dqne. The case h&s been sent up for trial, and it will be interesting to noto hew such opposite, and on one side Inipro babltt, tolas come out, At present appetr ances I would not oaro to be thn«o " traps." One bad feature of their " cafo " is that by »rreatina all whom they koow wore on< looker*, as participants in a breach of the peace, they intimidate, and prevent any unbiassed evidence being brought forward against them.

English Costumes.

A. society; journalist, writing on a rcc.e.nt c-stume ball at Cheltenham, says:—Beside,* thou-ualmn of faocy costUmes,: the Noipi mandy r-ibsant^ ' 'Brigands,1 fis^wiyea, season's, ijpariu-h ladio*, ciharactcr-s out ojt opera*," and sj>, p,n, t nptjc'ed th,e follcv*TOg costumes of metre originality : "loe," a pretty costwine of white »am, literally covered wjih joioles, timracd wiiha drapery of silver tissue and niother-o'-pearl flowers fro«ted with diamond du<t; the fame fbw'eri in the hair, which was powdered with diamond du»t " Coming ihro'the Bye;" short bunched-up red skin and bnsqnn, ■ over bine petticoat; flWcrs, poppies and corn, lonpini; up the .skirt and round the - large Leghorn hat. " Lady Ramsay," in "Ticklish Times'1! date of dress, 1750; head powdered j worn by Miss Shiiley Hatria, was a pretty dress, 'jj^nibridgo ": a dree* which was Ra&fljfeteta frnh» the *»ct that it was entjbjfeiy of British mannfat, ur«» the lady weiating it being the hon; m&4£ the BiijjJjSton Association for tho Eucourai»ei ment ofe British WWoliea Manufactures. Itw|buld be difficult to find a prettlsr cerem,ioßy in voßue at any of the Courts of Europe than that which taken place annually on Easter Monday at the Royal Hlfioo in Berlin. I refer to tho search, £/$ Ka^|ster eggs in (he Empress's private apart me^nta by the young !?irla of the Augusta Ip Jstitute. The Empress hides all manlier of i presents in out-of-the-way eornonj.behind s°su cushion*, under tablecloths, pinned on t°|curtaißS -in short, inevery eligible hiding. P'jfiice; and the damsels, to the number of sevveral score, diessed neatly in blue cash- . mßl»ie dresses and white aprons, hunt' •^oft like mad things, gigging g^ ; ""if&nmg, and actually yearning with, jtsy I whe|n somo tyari\cularly n|traot(ve cm in : 'Oinfid—^aliy oblivions of the presence of royalty. Indeed, tho Crown Ptince and lrri^i C cBB enjoy tho fun as much r*s the child drp ;n, and encourage them to make as much n°H|e aa possible—that Uto say when Her MaJJesty has mado her esoape. In the eY«y n ing tbe games dfar to girls' hearts are P ■a'Jyed with ereat guHo j and aftonrardg a ref>Xal supper is served, iwhich is enjoyed Wl.|sh stiil groitor. Then the long string of c?|krriag(s appear in tbe Palace Yard, and t°:ke weary maidens are driven back to their Institute at Charlottcnburg to dream fit t '"to wonderful day. ■|An English pooiekyjonrnal describes a drftgs intended for morning wear at snch PMjiceß us Ascot or Sandown, which is of-a dollioumsly«ricli, dark shade of brown, W'i-th. almost a supgeslioa of dull sago throughout it. The whole of the frcfent, with an cxr-option afierwards to bolj described, h covered with cream- ' c"t;ourcd lace, folly dwped over folde of tho J™»wji salin, and ending in a soft, silkqa l"''»ge, wrrked into tho edges of the lace, i«!ij i 3 jntertcoted by ft Ehell-ruchipfj'of w',j)wn fatin, With a sniall admixtttre ol P'liiKsatin'of thu£Oft, oid-/ashiooed shade. fmls ruching curves upwards on either sido '"pmihe centre of the front, about half-way d^wn. .la tho very middle of ihe f'ijont, a pane! of dark-brown velvet runs '.lorn waist to foot, opening about ♦half-way down, like a pra-pod, and r-how llril,'.tbußOTVpiok satin lining. ■ 'I his panel aaijrjß to tbe apparent fceißht, which might «tl«iorw^se be detracted from by inter* sect,insi ruchinj? just describe^ } and alec, counteracts the effect of fulnoss given \iy the nrrfttgevjent of tha laoe over the Batiu. All jrouhtt the edge of the skirt is a trim ,miag of brown satin pleata, about two inoheß wide, lined with pinic satin.... At the back is a graceful arrangement of brown satin,: with occasional square utt^s, lined with piuk, and a little daik.bioVn velvet. / ■ *

STAR SATURDAY-SUPPLEMENT, JULYf 1, 1882.