STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT

AUCKLAND, SATURDAY, JUNE 3, 1882.

LIFE IN ENGLAND TWO CENTURIES AGO:

A Chapter ih English social Histo-y [By J. D. Davis.]

INTRODUCTION.

It was not very long ago that the historian •disdained to encumber his pages with des criptions of the daily life of the people whose annals he was writing. He considered that it detracted from the dignity [of the Muse be cultivated to descend to such vulgar trivialities. The progress of events iv Pioyal Courts,, the quarrels of kings, courtiers, favourites and ministers; the wars which kings undertook;' the murders they insti gated ; the plots and conspiracies their mis rule originated, all these and similar mat ters were set down with minuteness. Tho king, his court and ministry—if he had an y -were the ceutral figures in the picture; and the long-suffering people bad to be content with the smallest and obscurest space in the background. When indeed they could enduie the tyranny of their rulers no longer, and resorted to arms as the only means left of obtaining redress for their wrongs, then the historian did con descend to notice them.though even then it was commonly to underrate the severity of the oppression which drove them into re volt, to traduce their leaders, to exaggerate their excesses, and to misrepresent their objects nnd aims. How the masses of the people lived in quiet times, how they were clothed, how they laboured, what were the recreations Which made their wretchedness tolerable, what was their food, what man ner of houses they inhabited, the literature, if any, they read or had read to them, the religion they professed or neglected, 'to gether with the other circumstances and in cidents which made up the round of their existence, were for the most part left un chrdnicled. This, we say was, the state of the case a couple of generations ago. A new school of historians arose, of whom Lord Macaulay was the most distinguished leader, and those aimed at repairing the injustice of the past, and giving the governed their rightful place in the annals of their native land. Since Lord Macaulay made public his views on the writing of his tory, and gave brilliant practical illustration of them, numerous works more or less imitative have issued from the press. The latest is that of Mr J. K. Green, who, leav ing old paths, and ignoring conventional divisions, has taken a new departure, and divided his narrative, not into as many sec tions as there have been monarchs, but into periods based on philosophical grounds. A portion then of justice to the people has been at last satisfactorily measured out. But it still remains true that the complete social history of tho En.lish nation has yet to be written. A full description of them in their relations with one another, of their domestic life, of their progress from savagery to comfort, progress exhibiting the gradual spread ot the most easily recognised marks and tokens of civilization, would embrace au immense number of topics, which cannot but be reckoned as trivial and unimportant taken by them selves. Here, possibly lies the reason of this so long neglect. Tbe details have been so infinitesimal, separately estimated, that historians have not deemed it worth while j to expend the requisite labonr in this direc tion. The time, however,_ is probably not far distant when tbe social history of the English will be written by a competent au thority, and there will then be something approaching a complete history of civiliza tiot in England. What has been attempted in the series of papers to which these remarks serve as an introduction, is au outline of the social history of the second half of the seven teenth century ; or, more accurately, of the period extending from the beginning of the conflict between King and Parliament to the Revolution which drove the Stuarts into exile. It is scarcely necessary to premise that no pretension to exhaustiveness is made. It would be impossible in the colonies to Write a really complete history of any period of English history. But all avail able materials have been utilised, and though the books laid under contribution are for the most part familiar to students, much information fresh to the majority Ot readers has been brought together. Every effort towards accuracy has been made, and in all important cases authorities are given. The writer makes bold to say that the re suit shows clearly enough, that with the help of the abundant materials existing m England-some of it still lying, covered with the dust of ages, in the drawers and cabinets of ancient mansions and farm houses—a history might be compiled by a competent writer, at once entertaining, fas cinating,and important,not only of. a single period, but covering all the centuries during which the English have been a nation. There is room for such history; and the student and general reader alike look with eageraesa {or its appearance.

SECTION I. STATE OF EDUCATION.

When Dogberry, in " Much Ado About Nothing," is choosing " the most desartless man to be constable," it is suggested that either Hugh Oatcake or George Seacoal ought to have the ollice because they could read and. write. It is clear that these wore unusual accomplishments, which indeed Dogberry himself could not boast (act iv, sc. ii). We have.here an evidence of the ignorance of the 'lower orders at the time the play was written, which was just at the end of the sixteenth century. It is probable that things had not greatly altered at the time with which we arc more particularly concerned. Some change for the better, however, was brought about by the circulation of the Scriptures, which were studied, especially during the Common wealth, with extraordinary application by the bulk of the lower and middle classes. From the Reformation downwards the book most read, (it was often the only book read), 'in humble English homes was the Bible, On Epsom Downs in the summer of 1607, Pepys * relates that he came across a "shep herd aud his little boy reading, far from any hquses or sight of people, the Bible to him." This was a sight which might have been often witnessed in Puritan times. Then, all classes, from the Protector down wards, were assiduous students of Holy Writ, in the teachings of which they placed a belief so strong and unwavering as to be scarcely realisable in these days. It need scarcely be told that the Bible was one of the first books Biinyiin became familiar with. He had learnt to read and write at Bedford grammar school when quite a lad.before he had been put to a trade,but through want ol practice he unlearnt all he had acquired, and had, after his marriage, to set himself to master 01 cc more the rudiments of learning. His wife brought him as her portion just two books, "The Plain Mans Pathway to Heaven." and "The Practice of Piety," which had belonged to her father, who was a goodly _man, "living a strict and holy life both in word and deed." It would ap pear that Buhyan's wife was able to rend. If so, she was singularly fortunate, for female education was then shamefully neglected. If a woman, could read and write it was well, but the most important matter was to be able to cook, wash, bake, sew, and attend to the rest ot the numerous wants of a household. Sir Matthew Hulc sketches' out the curriculum which lie would have women undergo, in his " Let ters to his Children and Grandchildren." "I would have you learn,"hesays, "all points of good houaewifery.and practise it as there shall be occasion; as spinning of linen, the ordering of dairies, and to see to the dress ing of meal, salting and dressing of meat, brewing and baking, and to understand the common prices of corn, meat, malt, wool, butter, cheese, and all other household pro visions ; and to see and know what stores of all things necessary for the house are in readiness, what and when more are to bo provided, to have the price of linen, cloth, stuffs and woollen cloth for your necessary use, and the use of a family ; to cast about to provide all things at the best hand, to take and keep accounts of all things, to know the condition of your poultry about the house, for it is no discredit to a woman to be a heu-housewlfe: to cast about bow to order your clothes with the most frugal ity, to mend them whea they want, and to ; buy but when it is necessary and with ready money." In the above directions abili-y to read and write, together with a slight knowledge of arithmetic, is inferred ; but no great amount of .scholarship was re quired to superintend and keep account of the affairs of a rustic household. Even women of high position wrote badly and spelt atrociously. One letter of Mrs Crom well to licr husband has been preserved, it is, indeed, the only letter of hers extant. Carlyle says the original is frightfully spelt, and he points out also its bad gram mar. Queen. Mary,wife of William Ill.aud daughter of James 11, who had been educated by a bishop, had good natural abilities, and was fond of poetry and history, wrote the following-fsentence in a Bible (still preserved ia the library at the Hague) delivered to her when sbe was crowned at Westminster, " This book was given the King and I at our crownation. Marie R." If women with such advantages made blemishes like this, it is not at all surprising that the less fortunate were wanting in grammar and orthography. To be fair and impartial it is now our duty to show another side to this picture. A couple of examples will serve our pur pose. The first shall be that of Mrs Hutchinson, the estimable lady who was wedded to Colonel Hutchinson, one of the so-called Regicides, and who subsequently wrote his Memoirs. Prefixed to this work is usually published some fragments of an autobiography in which an account of her early education is given. Her nurse was a Frenchwoman, and she thus learnt from her cradle to speak both English and French. At the age of four she could read English perfectly, and as she showed evidences of a good memory she was carried to sermons,]which she remem bered and was able to repeat. At the age of seven she had'as many as eight tutors to iustruct her in languages, music, dancing, writing and needlework; but she had very little liking for these things and devoted' every moment of her spare time to her book, Latin was taught her by her father's chaplain, and though he was "a piiifull dull fellow," his young pupil learnt so (juickly as to outstrip her brothers It is clear that her family weie not rigid Puri tans, such as were numerous enough a few years later, for Mrs Hutchinson in her ; youth was not forbidden to learn or hear witty songs, amorous sonnets, and poems, The other instance of female education of an exceptional excellence is that which was found in Evelyn's daughter Mary. After her death by small-pox in March 1685 at the age of 19, her father beguiled his sorrow by writing a somewhat elaborate eulogium on ber attainments and virtues, from which

*As the Diaries of Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn will he frequently quoted, a, few words in explanation of these productions and their writers will be necessary. Pepys was secretary to the Admiralty under Charles II; a post which he filled with ability and credit. He was a man of education, who, as means increased, became a devotee of fashion and an inveterate pleasure seeker. His Diary extended from January Ist, 16G0, to May 31st, 16C9, when, through partial blindness, he was obliged to give it up. It is most amusing reading, being chatty, egotistical, and full of tho gossip current among the upper classes. Evelyn's Diary is not so full in detail, and is scarcely so interesting to the general reader. It covers a much longer period: begins earlier, and reaches down to January, 1706". Evelyn was a scholar, a loyal and consis tent churchman, a connoisseur in art and matters of taste, and a great gardener. He was one of the founders r/I the Boyitl Society.

the following particulars are extracted. Mary Evelyn understood .French as familiarly as her own tongue, and she had a competent knowledge of Italian. She possessed an excellent voice, which she was used to accompany on the harpsichord. "No one could read prose or verse better or with more judgment; and as she read, so she writ," with the most correct orthography her father is care ful to add. She rend abundance of history, all the best poets ancient and modern, as well as all tho best romances. But all these accomplishments, Evelyn says, were as trifles compared with "the virtues which adorned her soule," It is clear that she was unaffectedly pious, and she showed her religion iv manifold good works, In reading the biographies of the wor thies of the seventeenth century otic is struck wiih the early age at which students were admitted to the universities. Chil dren when they entered at Oxford or Cam bridge, many were ftill boys when they graduated and had completed their college course. Richard Hooker and John Scldcn both went to Oxford when fourteen years of age, Jeremy Taylor was a sizar in Cuius College, Cambridge, at 13 : he gradu ated B.A. in his ISth year, M.A. within three years after. line authority state* that he was elected Fellow of his College when only eighteen. Georgo Herbert pro> ceeded to -unity College,C_nVbridgc,about the age o£ 15 : he wus Bachelor of Arts thr.-c years later; and Master of Arts and Major Fellow of his College before lie had completed his twenty-second year. The poet Waller must have gone to Cambridge very early for he was a member of Parlia ment at eighteen, if not at sixteen. Ircton, afterwards son-in-law to Cromwell, was bom m 1610, was entered as a commoner at Trinity College, Oxford, in IG2_, and took his degree of B.A. m 10*20. Evelyn was a backward boy and did not reach Oxford till he was nearly seveuteen years of age. He says little of. the course of instruction pursued in his time. He notes, however, that he attended the dancing and vaulting school, that the discipline of tbe University was very str.ct under Archbishop Laud,who was Chancellor, and that when he went to read law in the Middle Temple what he acquired at the University proved to be of little use to him. The Latin language aod literature formed the chief study; proficient (jreck scholars were few. The latter lan guage had fallen into neglect, and was not cultivated as it had been prior to the Civil War. It was not considered neces'nry at Cambridge for a divine to read the Gospels in the original. Dryden, the poet, was resident at Cambridge between the years IfioO and 1654. He is said by a contempo rary to have read while there nil the Greek and_atinpoets,andtohavc beenconsidercd "a mau of good parts and learning." he makes but one reference to his university life in his writings, and that is to the effect that he read Plutarch in the library of Trinity College. "By the ancient statutes of tbe University, any one possessed of any estate, annuity, or certain income for lite amount ing to £26 13s 4d was required to pay £6 6s -Id in addition to the ordinary fees for any degree; and those for the M.A. degree for one not a fellow would be as much." Dryden, who had graduated-!. A., and who had bee. left an income of £40 per annum, probably could not afford to pay the additional amount, and for this ' reason left Cambridge without taking his Master's degree, In 1621 there were resident at the sixteen colleges of Cambridge University 2911 per sons, including students, feliows,graduates, and officials of all descriptions, ln the next year the number had risen to 3050. About this time the routine at Cambridge was somewhat as follows :— At 5 a.m. the students by sound of bell were assembled in the various college chapel- to hear pray ers read, after which, on some days, a fel low delivered a homily. Prayers occupied about an hour, and then breakfast whs served. The regular work followed. This embraced " college stiuiics," i.e. , attend ance on the lectures and examinations of the college-tutors; and "University exer cises " which the University professors con ducted in the "public schools.". When lour hours or more had been spent in this way noon had arrived, and the student assembled for dinner in the halls of their respective colleges. Dinner over, the decla mations and disputations of contending graduates, either in tho colleges or pnblic school_,demanded attendance. _ The rest of the day, except the time occupier! by even ing prayers and supper, the students spent as they pleased. At Christ's College, Cam bridge, from Michaelmas toEitster,Btudents had to be within doors by 9 p.m. ; from aster to' Michaelmas by 10 p.m. Iv Mil ton's time each student bad to be in resi dence eleven whole terms, extending over the best part of four years, before he could t-ke.the B.A.dcgrce. Corporal puni-hment was inflicted on the junior undergraduates ; all over the age of eighteen been exempt. Bathing in the Cam was the daily practice. Smoking had become an almost universal habit. (Masson's " Life and Times of Mil ton," vol I chap IV.) Dr Burnet's method of educating his sons may be taken as typical of ihat prevalent at the close of the seventeenth century. When they were seven years old they began Latin, each one having a separate tutor, to whom a salary of £40 a year was paid. After five or six years' study of the learned languages the youths were sent to the University. They finished their educational course at the University of Lcyden, and subsequently made a tour through Germany, Switzerland and Italy. Of course, none b\ii the rich could afford so expensive an education as this.

(To be continued.)

Little Johnny's Conundrum.

*'.MOiU," said little Johnny Periwinkle the other day, addressing his maternal parent, " what docs ' aesthetic' mean ? I heard Mrs Mo-by say yes'day that yon was a disciple of their aesthetic .school."— "A -sthetic, my son," said Mrs Periwinkle, as she dished Mr Periwinkle's red flannel shirt out of the wnshboiler, "is an extreme love of the beautiful; the too, too utteily intense allbutness of evertbing that is lovely. Oh !" she exclaimed t clapping [her hands rapturously, "how supremely divine is this noble science?" "Well, mom," said Johnny, "I've got a .-esthetic conun drum fer yer. What's the difference be tween this nut I'm holdin' in my hand and a A No. 1 salute from a AVilliam goat. Give'erup? Why one is a butter-nut and the other is an utter butt. See?"— Johnny studied" the science of the beautiful" in the woodshed,— Detroit Free Press.

Mr Spurgeon on Infidelity.

AFTER three months of toil sufficiently laborious to tax the strength of at least two ordinary mortals, Mr Spurgeon begins to look careworn. Only the other day ho told his people that he felt quite exhausted, and on Thursday evening last he was scarcely equal to preaching. The announcements made by bim uny Sunday for the coming week would convey some idea of what it means to be pastor of a church numbering upwards ot five thousand members, president of a college, head of orphanages and almshouses, and tho guidiug spirit of at least a score of other active agencies for good. Mr Spurgeon, however, continues to attract the same crowds at the Mctiopolitan Tabernacle, and when he preaches else where, which he does all too often for his strength, the eagerness to hear him is per haps greater than during any previous period ot his remarkable ministerial career. On Sunday morning Mr Spuraeon continued his series of discourses on the crucifixion of our Lord. The crucifixion of Christ, he remarked, was the crowning siu of our race. All tho evil of the human heart for all ages was represented around the Cross, where sin seemed to hold a levee. True, Christ, is not here in the ilesh, added Mr Spurgeon, but excellence and virtue aud the Divine Spirit are hero, and to-day men act towards Christ, who is amongst them in the Spirit, 'just iv the same way as the Jews acted towards the incarnate God. Men at the present time can and do put the Christ to death. The most spiteful things have been said of late about the Redeemer, and men treat not so any of tho noteworthy characters of history. When they come to speak of our Lord all candour and honesty is dismissed. Against Him they heap up thoir worst epithets. There were always men of that brand, but formerly they were philosophic, To-day we jhave the blatant language of Tom I-inc. Liberal and free-hearted towards all religious do they seem, but iv their un mitigated scorn for Christ they prove that the very spirit of persecution still burn* within them and they would indulge in it if they could. We have men who would say there is something good in Christanity just ns there is in Buddhism—of which system they seem of late, to be wonderfully fond—but the idea that Christianity alone is true'they cannot bear, and they will have nothing to do with Christ. They join the mob who rail against Christ, anil if they had been there they would have assisted in putting Him to death. They arc doing their best to sweep Christ out of existence, and are putting Him to a death He would dread yet moro than tho cross itself. They would sweep oil' His influence from the minds of men, and rob Him of the character He proved to be His own; "Take my life? ".proceeded Mr Spurgeon, "but my words remain. It would, however, be worse than murder were you to sweep out my words .- and if it would be so in the case of a human being, what must it bo to the Son of God Himself?" Addressing the ram pant iinlldelity of our day, Mr Spurgeon added, "I see a mystic cro«s to which your cruel words do nail my Lord, I see before my eyes the Lord Himself crucified afresh and put to an open shame again by infidel sarcasm."

A Genuine Ghost Story.

Whilst I was residing at Maulmam, I saw a ghost with my own eyes, in the broad dayl ght, of which I could make an affidavit. I had an old schoolfellow, who was after wards a college friend, with whom I lived in tha closest intimacy. Years, however, had passed away without our seeing each other. One morning I had just got out of bed, and was dressing myself, when sud denly my old. friend entered the room. I greeted him warmly, told him to call for a cup of tea in the verandah, and promised to be with him immediately. I dressed my self in all basic, and went out into the veran dah, but found no one there. I could not believe my eyes. I called to the sentry, who was posted at the front of the house, but he had seen no strange gentleman that morning. The setvants also declared that no such person had entered the house. I was certain Iliad seen my friend. I was not thinking about him at the time; yet I was not taken by surprise, as steamers and other vessels were frequently arriving at Maulmain. A fortnight afterwards, news arrived that he had died, six hundred miles off, about the very time I saw him at Maulmain, It is useless to comment upon this story. To this day I have never doubted that I really saw the ghost of my deceased.—"Burmah, Past and Present": by Lieut.-General Albert Fytche, CIS.I.

Feminine Brevities.

Among the gifts of a newly married pair the other evening was a broom sent to the lady, accompanied with the following senti ment : " This trilling gift accept from mc ; it's use I would commend. In sunshine use the bushy port; iv storms, the oilier end." Cms De Brown, who has prolonged his call considerably after 10.45 p.m. : '_' So you don't admire men of Couservativeviews like myself, Miss Angel ?" Miss A,, with vivacity: "No, indeed; I prefer people who have some go iv them." l)c B, reaches for his hat.

''How profoundly still and beautiful is the night," she whispered, resting her finely veined temple agaiust his coat collar, and fixing her dreamy eyes ou the far-off Pleiades, "how soothing, how restful." "Yes,'' lie replied, toying with the golden aureola of her hair, " and what a night to shoot cats."

A young mail who thought he had won the heart and now asked the hand in mar. litige of a certain young widow, r was asked by her ; " What is the difference be tween myself and Mr Baxley's Durham cow?" tie naturally replied: "Well, I don't know." "Then," said the widow, " you had better marry tbe cow."

An unloved lover : Mistress—" I under stand, Mary, that you are about to get married?" Mary—"lt's thruc, mum, an' niver a n'ater man walked than Denis Mulcahey." Mistress—"You love him very dearly ?" Mary—"lndade Ido not," Mistress—-'And why not, Mary?" Mary —" Because he he's always after botherin' to squaze me." " Sometime?," remarked Fogg, removing his cigar, " I wish that I had never been born, or that I bad died in childhood." He puffed away for a moment dr two, and then added, with something like his customary cheerfulness : " Well I have not lived altogether in vain. I have made a fairly good husband for Ml-3 F., a woman who could never have got anybody else to marry her,",

SELECTED POETRY.

Hooted and Hissed.

AN ACTOR'S STORY

TliK following are the concluding vei\ os of one of Dr Hedderwick's newly-published poems. The story is told of an actor forced. to perform the part of a, mountebank while liis lx>y lay dying at his home : - " But the stuno was waiting find on I wont With a jest on my quivering lips : And I scarcely know what the laughter m«an In the depths of my ecliußO; Until ut length a hiss arose, For I could not speak my part, Oh! I felt as it' my throat would close Through the bursting of my heart. Jtute orchestra and liifsing pit, And gay boxes tier on tier. And aloft where the gods in judgment sit, And footlights and chandelier, Iv my staggered brain went whirling round; While each word my tongue could form Was but the cry of tlio nrowniug drowned In tho rour of a mighty storm. Then a thought of dying struck me dumb, Though the prompter shouted loud j The words to my lips refused to come, And I looked lit the peering crowd. They saw ».ot the little piloous face, They know not the torl«re here ; They only mocked at my meek grimace. And laughed ut my helpless tear. Away, away, from the lights and the staro Of the gazers grade on grade, Away from the spangles, and paint, uiid glare,. Somehow my way 1 made ; Then liomc I was kino ly ta'cn,' liut your eyes, dear Joe, liave n l'rjuid shine, And my story has given you pain. " Proceed," quoth Joe, and the actor strove To tell Of ouch hiss and shrirJc. "They hissed me," lie said, " for the holy lovo I could neither hide nor speak : But the hisses, Joe, I thought might reach, And even into plaudits rise, Where silence nijulil, more avail than ejieccli. Far up in the pitying skies. " Behind me wns now the ruthless crowd, JJehind me the tinselled eUiee ; And Konewiiß the wanton, Horee, and proud, Ana pant were my shame mid rage. I only wept o'or the face so wan That nn hour ago had smiled ; I only Bat like a painted man Alone with my Btone-deiul child !" The actor said, " It is all past now; Tlio town I can draw at will; But sometimes a shadow comos o'er mj brow, And my eyelids are fain to 1111, An T think of tho grief that choked my nrt, While I stood to bo hooted and hissed, Ero I sobbed my too, too traijio ixurc • In tlio we« cold carl kissed."

CONTRARY MEN.

Some men do write when they do wrong, And somo do live who dyo, And some urc "short," when they are lonp. And stand when they do lie.' A man is surly when lie's late; Js round when ho is square; 110 may die early and dilate, And may be foul when " fair." He maybe " fast" -when he.is slntr. And " loose " when ho is " light, And "high" when he is very low, And heavy wlion he's "light." He may be wet when ho is " dry ;" Ho may bo "great" when small ; Mny purchase when he won't go by ; Have naught when ho has awl. 110 may be sick when ho ia" swell," And hot when 'when he is scold ; He's skilled so he on earth may dwell, And when lie's young he's Bold. 11. W. LOKGFELtOW-IN MEMOIUAM. " Not to bo tuneless in old ngo f Ab, surely blest his pilgrimage, Who, in liia Winter's snow. Still sings with note as sweet and clear, As in the morning of the year When the first violets blow ! Bleat! but more blest, whom Summer's heat. Whom Spring's impulsive stir and beat Havo taught no feverish lure: Whoso muse, benignant and serene, Still keeps his Autumn chaplct ureen, Because his heart is pure ! Ijio calm, 0 while find laureate head; Lie calm, O dead, thou art not dead, Since from the voiceless grave- Thy voice shall speak to old and younjf. While pong yot; speaks an English tongue, Hy Charles' or Thames' wave! —Austin JJobson, in London Athcna-um,

Latest Fashion Notes.

Pompadour stylos prevail. Neck ribbons arc revived. New mantles have paniers. Vests take the place of ficlrns. Scarf mantles are very graceful. Faille is more stylish than satin. Shirred basques arc still popular, Back braid trims coloured dresses. Laree bows are iised on low shoes. Neckerchiefs are tied in large bows. Berry buttons are used in jet and pearl. Skirts are narrow, but bustles are large. . Surplice nocks are stylish and b coining. Matinee saeqnos ,i'c made of satin surah, New pokes poke downward in the fore head. Breakfast caps arc of silk muslin embroid ered, Diamond-shaped openings are on new corsages. Shoulder capes cross in front in surplice styles. Ivory white is the fashionable shade ol" white, Jockey caps are worn by some equestri ennes. India linen is used for white morning dresses. Vcronce green is an artistic shade for spriDg drtssc». Small black Neapolitan boanete are fash ionable. Braiding on jackets bids fair to become very common. Alpaca or bectinc dresses are imported from London. Watering-place dresses for day and even ing arc short. Wild-rose pink is the stylish colour for evening dreoses. Smooth English cloths are more stylish. than cheviots. Jersey gloves of black silk will be worn with spring suits. _ Soldier-blueis the popular shade for cloth jackets and suits. Noon and 3 I.m. arc the fashionable hours for day weddings. Worth twos striped and changeable silks in his richest dresses. Ostrich feathers droop over the fiont edge of large straw hats. Jersey jackets arc preferred to the mascu line English walking jackets. Pcrs'an cloth mantles trimmed with che nille fringe are very fashionable. Basques with skirts of different fabrics. are .still popular an<* are economical,



■VTEW SERIAL TALE. .Arrangements having been made with the London Publishers, tho Romance entitled "GOD AND THE MAN!" BY ROBERT BUCHANAN. AVill shortly bo commenced in the STAR SUPPLEMENT. Mr Buchanan is well-known as the writer of "A Child of Nature," "Tl;e Shadow of the Sword," &c, and also as the Author of a number of popu lar Poems. His New Sto-y, "GOD AND THE MAN," Has created quite a unusual sensation in Eng land and America; and it is now, f#r the FIRST TIME, About to bo introduced to New Zealand readore. All who wish to follow the course of this Powerful and Intensely Interesting Story from the beginning, should at once send in their Subscriptions to the Publisher.