SCIENTIFIC NOTES.

The Reported Comet in the Southern Hemisphere.

It was reported about ten days ago that a new comet had been seen from Castle l'oint Observatory, Now Zealand, but as its ap pearance has not been confirmed, it is generally concluded that tho report had no foundation in fact. It is worth mentioning, however, that there are throe comets ex pected to appear, which may correspond with that reported. One is the great comet of las.t year, which was viewed with so much interest in this colony.

The great, comet of last year (observes the " Athemuum" of August 11) will shortly be in a position in the heavens in which it is not unlikely that it will again become visible with a powerful telescope in tho early morn ing when there is no moonlight at the time. On the Ist of September the comet's distance from us will bo about 59!) in terms of the arth's mean distance from tho sun, after which, tho earth's motion tending to make it overtake the comet, this distance will slightly diminish and become « r)1 71 on tho Ist of December/ Although thelast observa tion made of the comet was obtained by Dr. Julius Schmidt, at Athens, on the 27th of April, it appears by a letter to tho editor of " Natuao," from Mr A. S. Atkinson, Nelson, New Zealand, that ho saw the comet there with a four-inch refractor so late as the Gth of May, and it is calculated that tho intensity of its light on the 28th August will be about O'S5 of what it was then. Of course, if a few more observations can be obtained, astronomers will bo enabled to determine the orbit and length of period witli much greater accuracy and certainty than have yot been attainable. Other two comets are agitating tho minds Of European astronomers at tho present. Ouo of theso is in the constellation of Draco—too far north for southern observers. It is "said to bo faint, and slowly moving south. A message has been received by Mr Ellcry, of tho Melbourne Observatory, from Keil, in tho north of Oennanv, which has recantly .been made tho h;t djiiaitjr« for .the despatch of international astronomical telegrams to the olfcet that another was travelling in tho path of the great comet of 188-. Ah the position of the latter is not given, it is impossible to say whether it cor responds with the one said to have been ob served from Cast !e Point. No doubt local astronomers will be on tho look-out when ever there ,'iro favourable conditions, and will shortly lie ablotodotermino whether or not a comet is really visible in our skies, and to lix whether U-i.s a ro-nppearaneo of last year's celestial visitor, or a visit from a complete stranger.

(To tlm Editor.)

Sill,—The enclosed may be interesting to Home of the readeiw of your scientific column, and is brieily explained thus :—On the three corners of a triangle place any figures tit will, add together tho two figures on each Mdc, as shown in diagram, viz.:— 8-1 i:i»2l and 13 + 17 -'30 alaoon base 3+17*23 Then add tho products of these together, an dhown at nt 2tan.l 17=33 w> is iimi ii :w co SO and B=i>B The sum of each will bo equal. This will happen no matter what figures you use, and though, geometrically, the angles are equal, yet it does not seem to account for the figures agreeing when the values of oaoh angle are no unequal. Perhaps some of your renders can explain. —I am, &0., E. H. J.

A Secret Society.

Two years ngol was on tho north-east coast of Gau or Ysabel Island, Solomon?!, writes a correspondent of tho Ago. Wo were anchored hero a few days, but tho natives were wild and shy, and we had at first some ditliculty in communicating : but nfter a

day they came freely on board, but refused to recruit. I wus pressed to land, but dvi* clined. .1 had not been offered hotel nut and as a rule I don't, go ashoro in the; Bolomons. unless I have oaton it. 1 noticed that many of the principal men on board wore wigs, and some wore young fellows. This puzzled mo. Wo had no interpreter at first ; none of us- understood the locnl dialect. At last wo got a lad who spoko pigeon English. I asked him about tho wig men. lie baid wearing the wig was a badge of a secret society. They ruled tho roost in the neighborhood—big.wigs in more sense than one, in fact. Ho was not ono himself ; wished ho was. It cost a lot of money and pigs to be admitted. If any outsider inter fered or attacked ono of tho wig men, all tho rest rallied to his assistance, and the chief himself was ufraid of them.

In tho evening I saw eight or ten of these wig fellows eating betel nuts in a circle on,the deck, I sat down next an old fellow and joined tho party. lam v mem ber of a'society that shall be namoless, and proceeded quietly to make the usual signs and symbols ; every eye in tho circle was fixed on me as I did so, every jaw stopped wagging, but no rosult immediately followed anp i felt considerably disappointed ; but after » bit, however, an old follow handed me. in a friendly way, his betel nut and lime box, the sign of friendship, and my jaw wagged along with them ; another sud denly pnlled off has big wig, and crowned me with it, and all the circle nodded and grinned at me. Presents of tobacco fol lowed, and a trip ashore was proposed ; I agreed. When I entered the town, called, by the way, Sana, great was tho excitement, and yelling and astonishment on seeing me bewigged. I was received with the great est politeness in every house I entered. This exceptional beference I owed to my head-dress. After this tho villagers became very friendly, and next day my friends the bigwigs gave us six or seven boys, and ap peared reallytsorry when we left throe or four day 3 after. I always, while there, went'in my wig, which is most ingeniously platted together of long human hair, and the boys from that town on board were al ways quiie friendly, generally looking to me for any little thing they wanted; but I could glean nothing about the bigwigs from them. On seoing a local white trader after wards, he said, on being spoken to on the subject, I had stumbled on a mob of "black masons." I have my wig yet, and intend keeping it, and laugh as I think of my wild black friends on a fieace cannibal island in the Solomons.

GENESIS AND SCIENCE.

A Paper Read at a Confkhenck ok the Auckland Presbyteuv in St. James's cliukoii, auckland, octoukk 3m>, Isß3, by THE REV. It. MuKINNKY.

Mr Froudk says in one of his essays :— "Between the authority of the Church and the authority of the Bible, the testimony of history and tho testimony of the Spirit, the ascertained facts of science and the contradictory facts which seem to be re vealed, tho minds of men aro tossed to and fro, harrassed by the changed attitude in which scientific investigation has placed us all towards accounts of supernatural occur rences," The statement which Mr Froude hero makes, so far as it relates to the un settled state of mind, that exists in tho present day in regard to the subjects which ho speaks of, is, as we all know, perfectly correct. There is a tossing to and fro, an unsettled state of mind upon those subjects, and in regard to nothing else has this been so much the case as in regard to the sub ject to which this evening I have proposed, for a short time, to turn your attention — the subject of Genesis and Science. The in troductory chapters pf Genesis have b'eon the battle ground on which opposing forces have contended for centuries. But the battle has been fiercest since the science of geology came into existence, and its acrimony has been embittered since tho time that Evolu tionism originated, or rather, since the time that Evolutionism—which is as old as tho old Greek philosophy—received its modern revival.

It commonly happens when thoro is a fight that one of tho parties engaged in it endeavours to roll tho blanio of its origin and continuance upon the other; but it a dispassionate observer were found—who, however, is always difficult if not impos sible to find—it would, I believe, be dis covered by him that neither side was alto gether blameless. Even without absolute dispassionate observation, it will, I believe, be generally admitted that this is the case in relation to the subject about which I am now .speaking. In (lie battle that has been waged for so long between science and re ligion, neither side, it is manifest, has been without blame. 1 believe myself that tho scientists are just now the more blamablo of the two—tho more dogmatic ; the more prejudiced; tho more unreason able, and the more overhearing : but tho severity of the judgment passed upon them by a theologian ought to be con siderably modified when ho calls to mind tho many sad chapters of ecclesiastical history that, an: on record in regard to this mutter. The truth must be acknowledged oven by a theologian himself that his brethren havo often proved tho greatest obstructives to the progress of science. Thoy havo often stood armed cnji-ti-pie on the "road that leads to scientific advance ment, barring to tho best of their ability all forward movement.

It h good for miinkintl that the power which they onco posscd of barring this m-ogresH Ims been tako.i out of their hands. Theologians themselves have reason to bo thankful for it, that they c;m never drive another philosopher as they drove the mom ing Htnr of science to recantation, mid to tlio acknowledgment that " The proposition that the sun is the centre of the world nnd iminovnblo from itH place is absurd, philo sophically false, mid formally heretical, because it is expressly contrary to Scrip ture," and that " The proposition that the oarth is not the contro of tho world, nor immovable, but that it moves, and also with a diurnal motion, is absurd, philoso phically false, and erroneous in faith." , In rosspost to nothing else han the hostile attitude ttiat I have spoken of, and which is assumed by those who suppose them- Helves to bo on tho side of religion—in resrwet to nothing else has it been more assumed than in respect to tho science of geology. From the first it was supposed that the discoveries of this science wore in antagonism to Rovclatiou, and it is not the fault of tho theologians if investigations into this subject had not been at the very outset abruptly and absolutely terminated.

When it. was first discovered that fossili ferous deposits were found in the rocks, which indicated for this world an existence of twrhaps mtiiiy millions of years, theolo gians contented" themselves with a simple denial of tho fact. Then when .simple denial was no longer possible- other methods were adopted. Tin' Nonehinn deluge was supposed to account for most of tho things that geologists wore understood to have discovered; and sonic even of the defen ders of this faith wont so far as to say that if fossils were in tho rocks they must have been created m< they are, and were never anything but fossils. I am old enough to remember arguments little bettor than theses being brought forward in my own hearing. About the first divine to adopt a rational interpretation of Revelation, an interpreta tion not out of harmony with geological phenomena, was Dr. Chalmers. At all events, Dr. Chalmers was the first to lend to an interpretation of this nature the authority of a great name, and even for this, if for nothing olse, that grent man deserves to bo held in lasting remembrance.

In tlio attempts that ore made to harmoniso Genesis'and soionce, it appears to mo that it is seldom sufficiently borne in mind that a spirit of dogmatism—which is always a bad spirit—is ono that in this enso is peculiarly unfitting; and it appears to me also that such a spirit as this is .still more unfitting when attempts are made to prove tho existence of discrepancies be tween science and Gonesis. A\ a have yet much to learn about those subjects. Geological science is only in its infancy, and we have not to go to Professor Robert son Smith to loam that; so is also, in many respects, the science of Biblical interpre tation. In many regards no man is as yet prepared to say what is or what is notin con.sistont with tho facts of either scionce. It is a very good remark, illustrative of this, so far as the science of geology is con cerned, a remark made by Dr. Paterson, the editor of tho "British and Foreign Evangelical Review," in a work recently published by him on "Tho Earlier Scrip tures. " " Were I challenged," says he, "to reconcile Genesis with geology I would ask, Can any man reconcile Sir Charles LyeU's last edition of his ' Principles of Geology' with his first, issued less than half a century ago ?" Even "with tho light which we at present possoss upon those subjects it is manifest that no man is warranted in making such a statement as was made by one of the writers in that deservedly forgotton book, the " Essays and Reviews." In the article on "The Mosaic Cosmogony,"this writer says: " Believing, as we do, that if the value of the Bible as a book of religious instruction ia to be maintained, it must, not be by striving to prove it scientifically exact, at the oxpenso of every sound principle of in terpretation and in defiance of common senso, but by tho frank recognition of the erroneous views of nature which it contains," Instead of recognising erroneous views of nature in the Bible, as this writer says he is willing to do, I believe it will be evident, if we look at tho Scriptures with an un prejudiced eye, that even with the light which we at present possoss the harmony between science and Revelation

is something altogether wonderful. To my mind, the harmony that exists between Genesis and geology, even as we are at present capable of understanding these subjects, proves, almost as much as anything else that I know of, that " All Scripture is given by inspiration of God." If it were not so, if the narrative were not God-inspired, how could Moses, in the days in which lie wrote, and in the circumstances iii which he wrote, have written as he did 1 To make this epparont, let us glance again for a moment at the Mosaic account of the creation, as viewed in the light of geology and of reason.

"In the beginning," we road in the first verse1 of Genesis, " God created the heaven and tho earth." When that beginning was is not stated. It may have been, for any thing indicated here, millions of years ago. It is not stated when the beginning was when Godjcreatod the heavon and the earth, or our solar system, which is what is meant; neither is it stated how this creation was elected. The heavon and the earth might have been created, for anything that the sacred writer indicates, out of nothing ; or they might have been created out of pro-existing nebulous matter; or they might have boon created out of the wrecks of some former solar system. However, in whatever way tho matter of which this world is composed came first into existence, then it was, as is stated in thosecondversoofGenesis, " without form and void," a chaos as it has usually been called. The world was, so far as we can under stand it, a wild waste of waters, the thick vapours from abovo resting upon tho earth beneath, and all heaven and earth shrouded in a pall of darkness. The sun, however, was in existence, and gradually ho worked his way through the ail-but impenetrable gloom. This is the first thing that would, of course, naturally take place, and the first thing that would tend to bring order out of tho chaotic confusion ; and this is in won derful accord with tlio Mosaic record. Ac cording to this record, tho first thing that took place on tho first day or first period was, "God said, Let there be light: and there was light." The sun having penetrated the thick vaporous gloom, the first thing that his beams would produce would, of course, bo a firmament. His light and heat would naturally draw up towards him tho waters, and form clouds, separated from the waters beneath by an lerial inter-space ; and this, also, all of which we would suppose w.uld naturally take place, is what, in tho Mosaic record, is rjprosonted as having actually taken place. "And God," we are told, "made the firmament and divided tho waters which wore under the firmament from , the waters which were above the tirmm'nent,"

being done, a great portion of the waters being drawn heavenwards, the volume of water resting on the earth would be necessarily lessened. This water then, remaining in tho deepest basins of the earth, it would naturally como to pass that tho higher portions of the jrlobe would get ex poaed—the dry land would emerge; and is not this also in perfect accord with the Jlosaic record? Hear again its wonderful words ! " And God «iid, Let tho waters under the heaven be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear : and it was ho."

Well, the waters being fathered together above the firmament mitl beneath the firma ment, and the dry land appearing, the result of it would be that fertilising showers would fall, and then would come vegetation. Of course, there must have beun Borne divine interference, or at all events some divine arrangement, for the origination of this vegetation. But, how over it came about, whether by means of a " mosegrown fragment from another world," as Sir William Thomson once inconsider ately suggested, or in whatever way vegeta tion oanie when it did come—-it came in the natural order oi an upward and onward course of development. And here, also, tho Mosaic record is in wonderful harmony with this onward course of development. After the firmament was formed, and the scan were gathered together and tho dry land made its appearance, it is written that "God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, tho herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit, after his kind : and it was so."

Now thore could be no animal life ante cedently to vegetable life. There must be vegetable matter for animal life to .subsist on ere that animal life could obtain exist ence. Here also the Mosaic record is as the natural order of tilings might bo sup posed to be. "And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly tho moving creature that hath life ; and (iod created great whales" — literally, long creatures, vast fishes, dragons, and crocodiles—tho prodigious monster.* with prodigious names of geology—"and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind ; and every winged fowl after his kind." Then, as the life-sustaining capacity of tho earth in creased, life went on still developing, up ward and upward. "God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind—cattle and creeping things, and beast of the earth, aftor his kind: audit was so."

In this way creation went on, or develop ment ■went on, if you like to c;ill it »o, for ward and upward, ever forward and over upward, until nt last man appeared. As has boon said, " From tho beginning the earth was designed to bo a habitation for man ; and to tit, and furnish it for him nil tho revolutions our planet experienced, all tho transformations through which it passed, unitedly and unfailingly conspired. Every volcano that burned or belched in tho morning of time, overy hurricane that swept over tho primeval sea, wero made undor tho guiding hand of tho Divine Builder to work, and to work together towards perfecting this terrestrial abode. The gigantic races that crossed our ancient continents, and the tiny corals that toiled at tho bottom of ancient oceans " were all labouring towards perfecting tho dwelling place ofhumanity." As Max MUUor ex presses himself in reference to this same subject, "The whole natural creation tended towards man ; without man nature would bo incomplete and purposeless."

Well, without entering into all tlje minutite of the matter—indeed, as I have already said, the time has not yet come for entering into all it 3 minutire—we can see, even from the glance that wo have taken to-night, that Genesis, whon rightly looked at, is not out of harmony with reason nor geology, nor out of harmony either with the now philosophy, which is yet not new, of evolution and development. Nay, not merely is it not out of harmony with this philosophy, but does it not posi tively teach it* Only let God not be banished from the processes of operation by which this is brought about ; only let these processes be regarded as divine, and not simply materialistic; and is it not manifest that Moses teaches that man is developed from lower forms of organised life—from the monkey if you will—even as plainly as Darwin teaches it! All men who hare any sense are beginning to see this, and to acknowledge it! Dr. McCosh, although the foremost champion of orthodoxy in Christendom, sees it and acknowledges it. And the Duke of Argyll, when speaking upon this subject, says : "The close and mysterious relations between the mere animal"frame of man and that of

the lower animals does render the idea of a close relationship by descent at least con ceivable. Indeed, in proportion as it seems to approach nearer to processes of which we have some knowledge, it is ip a degree more conceivable than creation without any process, of which we can have no know ledge and can have no conception." It manifests no want of orthodoxy, then, as is manifest, to regard man as appearing in this world when ho did appear as a development from lower forms of organised life. This is plain enough, but it is plain enough also that between man and the lower forms of organised life there are radical and essential differences. The barrier that separates man from tho lower animals is unbridged and unbridtjable. This is the case in regard to man's bodily organisation, and it is still more the case in relation to the phenomena of mind. When we consider man's mental constitu tion, and compare it with the constitution of other animals that most resemble him in their anatomical structure, there is, even as Professor Huxley acknowledges, "an enor mous gulf, a divergence immeasurable, and practically infinite." Man was created, as the Bible tells us, in God's image, and as that image related to his mental constitu tion it is in regard to this that wo see man standing out as a species distinct' from all other animals. It is in regard to this that Max Miiller—a man without much of what might bo called religious or theological prejudice—has remarked: "As far as we can trace back the first steps of man, even on the lowest strata of history, we see the divine gift of a sound and sober intellect belonged to him from the very first; and the idea," he goes on to say, "of a humanity emerging slowly from the depths of an animal brutality can never be main tained."

(To be Continued.)

Hedgehogs.

It 13 pleasing to know that the hedgehog has a friend, if only in the Kalmuck Tartar, who cultivates its acquaintance in his rude dwelling to drive away the vermin. Once even in Europe it was held in higher honour as a household pet; and Lipsius wrote a funeral ode upon the death of Douza's hedge hog. The Scriptures, too, assign the magnificence of ancient Babylon as an in heritance for the hedgehog ; though our English versions, with characteristic in justice, have changed it to the " bittern." The Jews, however, in their translations of Holy Writ, have been more honest, and with tho Rabbins tho hedgehog retains its pride of place as co-partner with the pelican among the upper lintels of ruined Median palaces. Another ancient race, the gipsies, who, with three sticks and a kettle, accord ing to Cowper, " cook the flesh obscene of dog," lionoiu-the hedgehog also after their kind, for they cook that as well. The recipe is not elaborate. They first catch their hedgeheg, then stamp upon it, encase the corpse in a ball of clay, and leave it in the fire till the clay becomes brick. This is subsequently cracked, like a cocoanut, and inside is the baked and skinless hedgehog, for its spines, being embedded in the brick, drag off the skin with them. Then it is eaten. But tho commercial practicality of our civilisation looks askance at the hedge hog. We do not eat it. No one milks a hedgehog, and it never lays eggs. Formerly the Romans, indeed, employed its spiny cuticle for "hackling" hemp, and farmers on the Continent still place it upon the muzzles of weaned calves; but with us oven these insignificant titles to com mercial raluo iiave been taken away by the adoption for those purposes of mechanical contrivances of feather and iron. Albertus Magnus used to recommend a hedgehog's right eye fried in oil for those who wished to see as well by night as by day ; but no specialist of note recommends it now. The only sphere or possible utility still open to the English hedgehog in the nineteenth century is tho domestic circle; for a tame hedgohog has its uses. It annoys the cat, and quenches black beetle,?. Oc casionally it gets under the grate and walks off with a red-hot coal upon its back, filling the house with the odour of a brushmaker's manufactory on fire. This, however, is only an error of judgment on the urchin's part; as is also its occasional disappearance down a drain, thereby caus ing considerable inconvenience to tho household. But there is one great blot upon the hedgehog's moral character ; for, like tho Reverend Stiggins, its "particular wanity" is ruin. Ko one, however, need pander to its low tastes; and in many respects the hedgehog might be found as useful as the dog. At the Aiigel Inn, at Felton, in Northumberland, one specimen used to act as turnspit as well as the dog that bears that name ; and if it cannot bark at thieves or run after the carriage, still the hedgehog, as an article of domestic furniture, has many good points. This a burglar with his boots off might easily find to liis cost. . . . But the special vocation of a hedgehog is, after all, the de struction of vermin ; and hero it has been doubly useful. In one house where un limited '' vermin-killer " had been employed with insignificant results, a hedgehog was introduced. It commenced operations by eating up all the " vermin-killer," and then went gaily in quest of the cockroaches. This showed kindly forethought, for the poison might have been danger ous to the children, whereas on a hedgehog it has no effect worth mentioning. After a strong dose of strychnine it has, in deed, been known to lie upon its back and airily gesticulate with its lees, behaving generally, with a levity quite unbecoming its posioned condition. But the effect soon wears off, and Messrs Lens and Buckland nearly exhausted their list of poirons in ex perimenting upon hedgehogs, with the re sult that the quadrupeds were always ready for more. Nor have external poisons any bettor or rather any worse effect, and this is a considerable point in the hedgehog's favour when he dines off a riper. On such an occasion his proceedings are simplicity itself. He first smells the snake, ana gets promptly bitten on the nose. This makes him quite sure, for he is very short-sighted, that the reptile is a viper, and he eats it. Perhaps he is bitten in half a dozen places during the operation, sometimes more, sometimes fewer ; but that was exactly what he expected : and as it does him no harm, he does not, mind so long as he gets his dinner.—From an article by E.K. Robin son in "The Gentleman's Magazine" for July.

Two Sides of the Tobacco Question. — The old poet says :—

Tobacco is an Indian wood, Which from the devil doth proceed; It soils the fingers, stinks the clothes, And makes d chimney of the nose. An English poet has a different opinion, and expresses it in these lines:—

Sublime tobacco which from oast to west Choors the far's labour or the Turkman's rest.

Divino in hookas, glorious in a pipe, Whon tipp'd with amber, moUcw, rich, and

ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caros3 More dazzlinsly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties—Give mo a cigar

Refuses a Coronet.

Dikkctly the large country house began to lose its guests, the hostess, Mrs Hope, had time to look about her, and one of the first ' ! inconvenient things she saw was the very ' evident love affair between handsome Jack ? Talbot, of the —th, who had nothing in the :<'. world but his Captain's pay, and her only daughter Lillian, whose first duty to her parents lay in making an eligible match! This would never do. But the worldly wise lady reflected that Captain TalbotV visit was only to last three days longer, and with true art appeared content with the position. The night before he went away the suitor applied to Mr Hope, and begged to have his prayer favourably answered • and he (having received his brief from his wife,) temporized gently; and said ha could not at present give a definite answer. " May I hope!" asked the suitor. "If you like," said the father; and no thing could have ended better. Lillian waved a damp pocket-handkerchief from the window and the knight " rode away.1' J A month later Jack was orderedto Egypt , and Mrs Hope thought it highly probable that all her difficulties would be removed '■"■ by the Egyptians. If not, time was gained | at any rate, and Lillian wus growing hand-' ] somer every day. , 1 •'My dear1," said Mr Hope one evening. ;/| ' Lord Blackmoor is evidently struck wliisH Lillian." 1

"So I|see," responded his wife, smiling fi omplacently. • |. "I shouldn't be surprised if he spoke 1 shortly." 1 '• So much the better." " Bnt, ah—how about the other fellow?" 11 queried Mr Hope, uneasily. ' f " Nothing about him," said Mrs Hope H resolutely, "he must not be mentioned." r i " Lord Blackmoor is veryold," " He will make the better husband." "Lillian Is a beautiful, warm-hearted a girl !" faltered the father. "Had she not been beautiful a coronet would not be offered her."

" But, Harriet, you and arid 1 were both young when we were married!" Mrs Hope calmly fixed her fine eyes on the ceiling, and her husband saw seetiment ■would find no response.

And so while Jack was bronzinghis hand some face and fighting for his country in Egypt, his Lilian was desired to receive the addresses of an elaborate old fop of seventy five, and she only eighteen. But these things happen, so we must contemplate them.

Between her mother and Lord Blackmoor it was arranged that the wedding should take place in December, and in the mean- 1 time rumor came that Captain Talbos was - killed. The Hopes' return took place the end of' ; Novemoer, and the old bridegroom-elect was H to come there in December. He arrived^ '.'{■; and, to the girl, seemed more distasteful 8 than ever. He followed her about with an, ''<• affection of youthful ardor, which sorely H warred with gout and dyspepsia. ">, "Mamma," said the frenzied Lillian, "if , i you don't keep him away from me now, iSfS say 'no' at the altar!" And fearing that this was true, Mrs Hope rejoiced in an ; attack of gout, which confined the old noble man to his room, where she treated him with , flattery and devotion. So, then, the poor girl wandered down to the boat-house, and there was a snugy furnished iron mom there, where tea thingß and spirit lamps were kept. Lillian had often made tea here in the happy Summer; and now she entered the room, which was cold and damp from long disuse, andthrow ing{herself in a chairs sobbed as if her heart were breaking. A footstep outside madfi Lillian start up quickly. It was the postaan on his way to the house. ' •' Have you any letters for me V asked the girl. "Yes, miss, surely," said the man; and he found three, handed them to her, and passed on. Lilltan re-entered the iron room, sank on a sofa ane with trembling hands tore 'open one—it was f-om Jack. As she read it she found other letters had been sent to her— who had them ?" Jack Mas in London} said he was fast recovering from his wounds tmd that he had determined to come down and hear from her own lips that she gave him up. And concluded by sayinp he would be at the boat-house by five o'clock the next erening— would she meet him , there?" The next evening meant this evening; / this evening that over was; for the letter/ had been written the day before. Lillian's delight at this unexpected news, : was par-amount. She hastened back to the, ■; house, determining that nothing should, reveal the change. She inquired oiyilly. iv after Lord Blackmoor, had five dresses tried /• on by a dressmaker, drove with her mother | to pay some calls; and when they returned ; home it was a quarter to five o'clock. Sirs ,;; Hope ordered tea for herself in her bedroom, ; saying she should sit afterwards, with Lord .jj Blackmoor till dinner time, so Lillian was :", at liberty. She escaped in tie dark;..;;'. Winter'safternoon, ran swiftly down through ,V the park and as she neared the boat-house she saw a tall, well known figure keepiiig;a out of the way of observation. Her heart beat so violently that sfco could scarcely go on, and then the lover threw caution to tna . winds, and in another few seconds all that was needful was told, and the old, old story went on as smoothly as if no old Lord Black moor existed. Late that night, after Mrs Hope and the servants had gone to bed, Lillian sought ; her father in the library. "My dear girl, what is the matter ?"h& k cried nervously, as the fair form ofliiS;|j daughter, robed in a light blue dressing?,^ gown, suddenly appeared and sat down on^ his foot-stool. i ■• - " Papr, Jack isn't dead," whispered lal- ; lian, fixing hor lovely eyes on Mr Hope]* . wondering countenance and fondling his hand. " Isn't he, my dear?" helplessly inquired - the old gentleman, who had been aware of ■■ the fact for sometime. " I am going to marry Jack, papa—" • " Then don't tell me, my dear, don't tell me !" exclaimed Mr Hope, a beam of delight. . on his countenance. "I know nothing; about it, mind ; if I did,your mother wpajdM worm it out of me." For there are still " Caudle Lectures," dear reader. ; " Then, dear, dear papa—dou won't bft'v_. angry—if—to-morrow—" . jjjH " Never, my love, never, as long as I know nothing about it," hastilyTsissing^ the pretty upturned face, and adding in a whisper, " Talbot is the soul of honor, and' I can trust him." In the gray morning it was Miss Hope's habit to tako a walk. She took one thßjtf next morning, and a muffled figure emerged m from the iron room to meet her. And By 4' the first up train these two reached London, ■ and by the time Lord Blackmoor's goatf relented sufficiently to enable him to appear at a late breakfast, where he hoped to meetvy. his fair fiancee, a telegram from Mr Johng Talbot announced to the scandalized mother, ,;• the apparently scandalized father, and the mortified nobleman that Lilian would 9 never wear a coronei. "'■•;". She did not do badly, though. An ecoen- I trie godmother of Captain Talbot's was bo I impressed by the fact that a girl had refused a coronet for [his sake that she left him her ortune.— The Argosy.

STAK SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, OCTOBER 13, 1883

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