THE LONGEST NIGHT IN A LIVE.

It Was Christmas time, and one of those old-fashioned winters in the days, of the Ced.ges, when the snow lay on (,'no ground 'for weeks, when railways wove unknown, and the electric telegraph l.cid not been 'dreamed of. Tho South toad had boon •blocked up for nearly a month, when a ■partial thaw almost canned a public rejoic ing ; coaches began to. run, and weather bound travellers to have some hope of reaching their destination, Among the first ladies who undertook 'the (journey'from tho West of Scotland, to London at (i_is time was a certain Miss Stirling, -who bad for weeks; past <1 .siroi'l to 'reach the'mctro polis.

Her 'friends t-ssntwd hor (habit wrts.ti fool hardy attempt, tout Miss Stirling's business was urgent, 'concerning others mure than herself, and who was not to be deterred by personal discomfort in by physical dilli cultics from'doing wh.il she thought was right. So -she kepi to her purpose and took her ___> in the mail for London. The (haw had continued for some days ; (he roads, though heavy, were open, and, with the aid of extra horses here and (hero, the first half of the journey was performed easily, ''/'ho second day ".'as more trying than the "hist-; the wind blew keenly, antl penetrated every crevice of tho coach, and when on reaching a little roadside inn the srrow beganttu fall'fast, both the guard and coachimiin mgetl their solitary passenger to remain there for the night, Miss Stirling hesitated for a moment, but the littlo inn looked Jiy'no means a plorsant place to be snowod-up 'in, so she resisted their en treaties, and gathering her furs more closely round her, .-be nestled herself into a corner of (be coach. Thus, for a time, she lost all consciousness of outward things in sleep. A sudden lurch awoke'her; and she soon learned that they had strict: fast in a snow drift, and that no ollbrts of the tired horses could extricate tbe coach from its tin pkifcsailt; predicament. The guard, mounlinf; one of the leaders, set oil', in search of assistance, while! heei inch man comforted Miss Stirling by tolling her they were only a milo or two from " the Squire's." Within an hour tbe distant tinkling of the sledge bells was beard, and soon a'hearty voice, was heard hailing them. A stn-ong arm lifted Miss Stirling from the conch, and supported her trembling steps to a sledge, close at band, and she soon found herself in a large hall brilliantly lighted by a blazing live, and kindly hands were'busied in removing her wraps.

" I told you that the sleigh would have plenty of work this winter," exclaimed the host, addressing his wife.

"Wo all say at I law! ice that Uncle Athorton never can be wrong," said a merry voice.

"Athorton ! Hawtrco 1" repented Miss Stirling. "Ellen, is it possible that you arc hero'; Don't you know your old friend, Miss Stirling '!"

.Mrs Atherlou fired her eyes on tho Stranger, and recognised the blight •haired gad she had loved in their school .lays,antl cordial was the welcome she gave her as sho congratulated herself on hating her under her own roof ; and (hen laughing, sho told her she did not know how to dispose of her for the night, for the house was as full as it could hold. Miss Stirling told her to take no trouble on her account; a chair by the lire was all she cared for.

"But! have one chamber still at your service ; it is very csmfortablo, but as it is detached from the house I have never asked a lady to sleep there till now."

"lamquite willing to become its lirst lady tenant," said Miss Stirling, heartily.

So the matter was settled. The evening passed pleasantly: music, dancing, and ghost stories made (be hours Hy fast. It was long past the hour of retiring at Bel field when Miss Stirling, under her hostess's guidance, took possession cf her outdoor chamber. It really was a cheerful little apartment. The crimson hangings of the bed and window looked warm ami comfort able in the Hashing firelight : the long parted friends found il impossible to resist the temptation of sitting down to have, what in old days they used to call a " two handed chat," and midnight rang out from the stable clock before Mrs Atherton said good-night.

She had already crossed the threshold to go, when she turned back to say, "1 forgot to tell you that the inside bar of this iloor is not very secure, and that the key only turns outside."

Miss Stirling laughingly allowed she had no objection to it on this particular occa sion.

"Very well then, I will sentl my maid with the key at eight precisely."

They parted ; the door was locked out side, and the key taken out, Miss Stirling, standing by the window, watched her friend depart. So, drawing her chair once moro to the lire, she arranged her dark silken tresses for the night, her thoughts straying bad to the old-world memories which her meeting with Mrs Atherton had revived. The sound of (he clock striking two was the first thing that recalled her to her present life By this timo the candles were burned dove .almost to their sockets, aud the lire was dying fast.

As she turned lo iling a fresh log into the grate, her eyes fell upon the dressing-glass, when she fancied she saw the bed-curtains move. She stood for a moment gazirg at the milt or, but all was still, and she blamed herself for allowing nervous fears to over come hor. She approached the bed, antl withdrew the curtains, and was rewarded by finding nothing, save tho bedclothes folded neatly down. Allowing herself no time for further doubts or fears, .-be placed the candle eu the mantelpiece and stopped into bed.

Her eyes ached with wen, in -ss, but sleep seemed to Hy from her. Sho was restless and feverish, and the '■■ ■■ttion of feeling so made her more wakolid : antl the moonbeams stealing between tin; window curtains casl eli.istly shadows on (he wall. So she carefully shut oul the light on thai side an..! turned again Io sleep, but she was soon thoroughly aroused by feeling the bed heave under' her. She .started up a.id .vii ~d '.' llhab.'ilin. heavt a ropetiti-.-ii of (he movement, but i! did not come. Laying her head once more on the pillow, she determined it) control her groundless terrors. " Again she started uji. This lime there could bono doubt; the bed heaved more than once, accompanied by a si range gurgling sound, ;;s ii' of a creature in pain. .Leaning on her elbow, she ii-iened—it: came again, followed by ;. loud rustling noise, as if some heavy body were dragged from under the bed iii the direction of (ho lire. What tld if ho: S!.i lorn.d lo call out for help, bid her tongue clove to tbo roof of hoi mouth, inij Iho pulses in her temples throbbed until she felt as if thoir painful beatiti;.- sounded in the silence of the night like the loud Licking of a clock. Tho unseen thing diu___u itself along until it reached the hc.n llirug, when., it Hung itself dt.wii vviJh violence. As it breath ci/iie Jess painfully ■■.■ she heard ,

il, for it occurred to her that tho creature might be nothing worse than tho house dog. Even this notion was disagreeable enough, but it was as nothing to the vague terror which had hitherto oppressed her. Sho persuaded herself that if she lay quiet no harm would happen to her.

And the night would soon pass over. By-aud-by the creature began to snore, and it struck her feverish fancy that the snoring was not like that d: tho dog. She raised herself gently, and with trembling k'.nds drewb&ck an inch or two of the cur fcains and peered out, thinking that any certainty was better '.linn such terrible suspense. She looked toward the fireplace, and there, sure enough, the huge creature lay — a brown, hairy mass, but of what S_apo it was impossible to divine, so fitful was the light and so strangely was it coiled up on the hearthrug. P.y-und-by it began to stretch itself out, to open its eyes, which shone in the flicker ing rays of the lire, and to raise its paws above its hairy head. Good Cod ! those arc not paws. They are human hands, and dangling from the wrists hang fragments of broken chains. A chill of horror froze Annie Stirling's veins as a flash of the expiring lire showed her this clearly--far too (dearly—and Ihe con viction seized upon her mind that sho was shut up with an escaped convict. An in ward invocation to Heaven for aid rose from her heart, ns with the whole force of her intellect she endeavoured to survey the danger of hor position. For the present she'iuust be still; the night must be fat spent ; she must wait and hope. She had not to wait long. Tho creature moved again—stood upright -staggered to wards the bed. For one moment—one dreadful moment—she saw his face—his pale, pinched features, his flushing eyes, his black bristling hair; but, thank (lod, he did not see her. She shrank behind the curtains ; bo advanced to the bed, slowly, hesitatingly, and the clanking sound of the broken chains fell menacingly on her car. He laid his baud upon the curtains, antl for a few moments fumbled to find the open ing. These moments were all in all to Annie Stirling. Despair sharpened her senses; she found (bat the other side of the bed was not set so close against the wall but that shecou'.d pass into the narrow space 'be tween ; this she contrived lodo noiselessly. She bad hardly accomplished tho difficult feat, and sheltered herself behind the cur tains, when the creature Hung itself on the bed, and drawing the clothes round him, uttered a sound more like the whinnying of a horse than tbe laugh of a human bang. For some time Miss Stirling .stood in her narrow biding place, trembling with cold and terror. .She lifted up her heart in prayer for courage ; and when her com posure had in some degree returned, it oc ciirctl to her that if she could but reach the window, she might attract the attention of some passer-by. Very cautiously she attempted the perilous experiment ; her bare feet moved noiselessly across the floor, and a friendly ray of moonlight guided her safely to the window. As she put out her hand towards the curtains, her heart gave a fresh bound of terror, for it came in contact with some thing soft and warm. At length, however, sho remembered that she had flung down her fur cloak in that spot, and it was a mercy to come upon it now ; she wrapped it round her, and reached the window with out any alarm from the occupant of the bed, whose heavy breathing gave assurance that he was now sound asleep. This was some comfort, and she greatly needed it.

She heard the stable clock strike four. Only four ! She felt as if it wero impossible fo survive even another hour. Was there no hope '.' None ? She tried to support herself against the window-frame, but her first touch caused it to shake and creak in a manner that seemed to her startling loud. Drops of agony fell from her brow _s over antl anon a rustle of the bedclothes, or a slight clank of (ho manacled bauds, scuta renewed chili to her heart.

The clock struck five. Suddenly a man's whistle was heard in the court, and the driver of the mail coach, lantern in hand, crossed tho yard. Would to God she could call to him, or in any way attract his attention, but she dared not mako the slightest sound. He looked up at the win dow, against which he almost brushed in passing : aud the light he held Hashed on Miss Stirling's crouch ing figure. He paused, looked again, and seemed about to speak, when she hastily made sign that he should be silent, but seek assistance at the house, lie gave her a glance of intelligence, and hastened away.

How long his absence seemed I Could he havo understood her ? The occupant of the bed was growing every instant more and more restless ; he was groping round the room. They would come too late ! too lato !

But no 1 steps in the courtyard, the key turning in the lock, the door opens. Then, with a yell that rang in Annie Stirling's ear until her dying day, the creature rushed to her hiding place ; lashed the slight win dow-frame to pieces, and finding himself baulked of his purpose to escape by the strength of the iron bar outside, turned like a wild boast on his pursuers, Sho was the first on whom his glance fell. He clasped her throat; his face was close to hers; his glittering eyes were glaring at her in frenzy ; when a blow from behind felled him,

She awoke from a long swoon td find her self safe in Mrs Atherton'sdressing.room,and to hear that no one was hurt but the poor maniac, and that he was again in the charge of his keepers from whom he had escaped a few hours before.

" A few hours ! A lifcf imo, Ellen ! But, Heaven be thanked it has passed like a wild dream!"

But one enduring effect remained ever alter to imprint on Annie Stirling's memory, and on the memories of all those that know her, Ihe event of that long night. Such had been her suH'ering, anxiety, and terror, thai in llu.se few hours her hair had turned white as snow.

VANISHED SMILES.

Twelve months arc fled since last wo met— What changes do we see around .' With tearful eves we look, but yet The vanished smile can not be found. Twelvemonths ago yon vacant chair Whosesniiieiiid seem to lianish care, Hut now the smile for aye is gone. Where is that smile we loved to s-e. We cherished ns the coming ii.'i'it:! Wc ask again, where can it hoi Without it all the day seems night. j lew c.ihl will bo the festive board When once again sonic meet, at, home, Vi I ill tin- bruasi ihe smile is stored, If lime has said il shall not come. Ah, whore is now Ihe smile so sweet. Which lighiciicil up ihe darkened place I Il h.ivi-r.si-imn,; Ihe Master's feet. '.is turned towards lite Saviour.-; face.

A hand-grenade is in use in Chicago to extinguish tires. ft is a frail glass globe i villaining chemicals, whose heated fumes check combustion.

Tho London " World" says : "The (wo ur.m.-.iTicd daughters of Longfellow have given up their home at Cambridge for two years, ,v> they have decided to enter as students at NoNviiluun College for one year, and to pas.-, another in tr..ve!l)!)g in'Cej' .w.nyo.d Italy."

CHRISTMAS CAROLS.

" In this lord's castle dwelt for many a year A well-beloved servant; he could sing (.'amis lor Shrovetide or for Candlemas, Sengs for the wassail; and when the boar's head. Crowned with gay garlands and with rose mary, Smoked on the Christmas board. —Soulhey's "Joan of Arc." Cakui. — which arc said to be derived from the Latin cantare, to sing, and rula, an in terjection of joy—aro as old as Christianity ; the lirst one, according to Bishop Taylor, being the well-known hymn sung by the angels to the shepherds at the Nativity . turia in decisis! — since the production of which Christmas carols iir great variety have been com posed, mere especially in the early ages of the Church. Aud a curious composition this first carol is as sung by the peasantry long ago. Here is a specimen, from which the reader will observe that its poetical merits are on a par with the tragical ballad of " Who Killed Cock Robin ?"— "Tito cock croweth, Chrlstus Natus est I (Christ Tltc.'a™en asked, Q.ui.lnas? (When?) "■he crow replied, ikco noctc. (I his night.) Thoov cried out, Übi. libit (Where, where() The sheep bleated forth, liothlehein. A voice from heaven sounded, saying,, • Gloria in excclsis !' " ((Ilory be on high !). Probably through this carol arose the custom •of the Calabrian shepherds on Christmas Eve. They descend from the mountains to Naples and Home, saluting the shrine of the Virgin with their wold music, under the poetic notion of cheering her until the birth of the infant. Very different is the practice in our own country. In the city of Durham, for instance, and in many other northern towns, when the chimes are ushering in the great Christian festival, an old woman carries liguros of the Virgin and Child from house to house, exhibiting them, while she sings the old, old carol— "God rest you, lpcrry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas Day. To save our souls from Satan's (old, which long hail gone astray. And 'tis tidings ot comfort and joy. " We do not conic to your house to beg nor to borrow, Hut we do come to your house to sing away all sorrow ; The merry time of Christinas is drawing very near, . Antl 'tis tidings of comfort and joy. " Wo tin not come to your house lo beg for bread and cheese, But we do come to your house to give us what you please; The merry time of Christmas is drawing very near, And 'lis tidings of comfort, antl joy. "God bless the master of this house, the mis tress also, And all the little children that round the tabic And all their kith antl kindred that travel far and near. And we wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year." Who hath not felt his heart stirred to its inmost depths by the sound of the Christmas carol ? What song so truly full oi peace, cf love, and joy as that? And what would merry old Christmas be without these glad carols ringing out in the clear frosty air, while the silvery chimes are borne in ac companiment over the meadow and the housetop alike? " And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christinas Hay, on Christmas Day." It is natural for us to sing when we are glad, and carol-singing once formed a principal feature at all the great feasts and banquets ; these carols, which were of a lively description, being known as wassail songs, and well adapted to the revel and (he feast where the Lord of Misrule had potent sway. Nay, it was a rule among tho Anglo-Norman originators of these convivial lyrics, that all guests should take part in the singing. "The antientiest master of the revel is, after dinner and supper, to sing a carol, or song, and to command tho other gentle men present to sing with him and the com panie." No song no supper, was the motto strictly adhered to, and the bluff English squire, at his hospitable board, protests that—

Not a man here shall taste my .larch beer Till a Christmas carol he does sing;

Then all clapped their hands, and shouted and sang, Till the hall and the parlour did ring.

But in later times the carol seems .to have been devoted to Christmas alone ; and when the Yulelog was blazing brightly up on the wide hearth, and the green mistletoe boughs hung from the walls and decorated windows and doors, the wassail-bowl was filled to overflowing, and true friends pledged each other with a joyful Christmas song ; and the young people joined hands in the old-fashioned dance, chanting a blythe carol, to which their feet kept time. Carol-singing was maintained in England in all its vigour to the close of the last cen tury ; but since that time it has gradually declined, except in the schools and churches of to-day, till it is scarcely heard except around the home fireside, trolled forth by sweet young voices ;or it may be some solitary veteran who has not forgotten the merry customs of his earlier years, in plaintive accents, doles out " God rest you, merry gentlemen," already quoted. Here is ono which used to be a great favourite with the younger members of the com munity, and which is not yet forgotten :— " I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas i .ay, on Christmas Day; I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christinas Day in the morning. " Antl what was in (hose ships all three, On Christmas Day 1 Sec. " Our Saviour Christ, and his ladye, On Christmas Day, Sec. " Pray, whither sail thoso ships all three. On Christmas Day I Sec. " Oh, they sailed unto Bethlehem, On Christmas Day, _c. " And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christmas Day, _c. " And all Ihe angels in Heaven shall sing On Christmas Day, _c. " Then let us all rejoice amain, On Christinas Day, on Christinas Day ; Then let us all rejoice amain, On Christinas Day in (he morning." In Shakespeare's time carols were sung in the streets at nights during Christmas by the waits, who expected to receive a gift for their singing. Tho derivation of this word "waits" is not really known, but it seems to be the same as "watch." The Anglo-Saxon imeisrn means to "watch;" so does the Gorman tcucht.cn. Tho Gothic icihls also means "watch." Waits were formerly minstrels, or musical watchmen, who attended on great men, and sounded the watch at night. Afterwards tho word came to be used for musicians who go round in the night and wake the neighbour hood with their music. Many a writer of old times and customs refers to the "wake fnl sketches of Christmas Eve." According to Dr. Busby, the word waits is a corruption of wayghlcs (hautboys), a word which has no singular number. The word, he says, has been transferred from the instrument to the performers, who are in the habit of parading the streets at night during Christ mastide. If was formerly the duty of musical watchmen lo "pipe the watch" nightly in the king's court four times from Michaelmas to Shrove Tuesday, and throe

times in the summer ; and they had also to make "the bon gate" at every door, to secure them against "pyekeres and pillers ;" but they formed a distinct class from both the watch and the minstrels.

It was after the Reformation that they ceased to sing Latin hymns in the churches, and substituted the sweet Christmas carols ; but ill Scotland carol-singing has been unknown since the days of John Knox ; whilst it is kept tip in Ireland till the present day. These are of a devotional character, one of them representing the Virgin contemplating the birth of tho Divine Infant:— " He neither shall be clothed In parole nor in pall, Hut all in fair linen, As wero babies all. He neither shall be rooked In silver nor in gold, Hut in a wooden cradle That rocks on the mould." And another curious one entitled, Dives and Lazarus, is still sung : — j "As it fell upon a day Rich Dives sickened antl died. There came two serpents out. of hell His soul therein to guide. " Rise up, rise up, Brother Hives, And come along with me. For you've a place provided in hell, To sit upon a serpent's knee." A writer describes the effect of this carol when the words "serpent's knee" are solemnly drawn out to their utmost length by a Warwickshire chanter, and as solemnly listened to by a well-disposed crowd, who seem, without difficulty, to believe that Dives sits upon a serpent's knee. The idea may have been presented to the poot's mind by the old pictures whicli represented Lazarus as sitting upon Abraham's lap, or other pictures which represented the patriarch as holding Lazarus out in his arms to see Dives writhing in torments below. The famous Christmas carol of Oxford, which is sung when the boar's head, gay with garlands and green herbs, is brought to the table with great ceremony, runs thus :— " Tlie boar's head, I understand, Is the chief service in this land. Look, wherever it be fund, Servile cum eantico," and so on. Some of these carols are inex pressibly sweet; and of (hose we give two examples:— " This winter's night I saw a sight— A star as bright as (lay, And everan.ong A maiden sung. Lullay, by-by, lullay! " Caput apri tlefcro Reddens lautles Domino, The boar's head in hand bring I, With garlands gay and rosemary I pray you all sing merrily, Qui estis in convivio." " This lovely lady sat and sang, And to her child she said, ' My son, my brother, and my father doo, Why lyest thou thus in hayd? My sweet bird, Though it betide Thou be not king verray, But nevertheless, I will not cease To sing by-by, lullay!' " Tlie child then spoke in his talking, And to his mother he said, ' It happen'th, mother, I am a king, In crib though I be laid; For angels bright, Did down alight. Thou knowest it is no nay, And of that sight Thou may'Bt be light To sing by-by, lullay 1" ""Nay, sweet son, since thou art a king, Why art thou laid in stall! Why not ordain thy bidding In some great king, his hall i We think 'tis right That king or night Should he in good array, And them among It were not wrong To sing by-by, lullay.' " ' Mary, mother, I am thy child, Though I be laid in stall; Lords antl Dukes shall worship me, And so shall Kings all. And ye shall see That Kings three Shall come on the twelfth day. For this behest, Give me thy breast, And sing by-by, lullay!'" Our other example is :— " Behold a silly, tender babe, In freezing winter night, In homely manger trembling lies; Alas I a piteous sight. The inns are full, no man will yield This little Pilgrim bed, But forced he is with Billy boasts In crib to snroud Mb heart. Despise him not for lying there, First what he is inquire; An Oriental pearl is often found In depth of dirty mire. " Weigh not his crib, his wooden dish, Nor beasts that by him feed. Weigh not his mother's p lor atlire, Nor Joseph's simple weed. The stable is a Prince's court, The crib his chair of slate. The beasts are parcel of his pomp, The wooden dish his plate. The persons in that poor attire His royal liveries wear ; The Prince himself is come from heaven, This pomp is prized there. With joy approach, 0 Christian wight, Do homage to thy King, And highly praise his humble pomp, Which he from heaven doth bring." Finally, on Christmas Eve, the bellman went through the streets merrily singing his carols also, which often had a voice of warning in it, as he gaily notified all good housewives that the merry Christmastide had come, and that all should be ready for the festival. Thus sang the bellman: — Tins night (you may my almanac see) Is the return of famous Christmas Eve; Ye virgins, then, your cleanly rooms prepare, ' And let the windows, bays, and laurels wear; Some rosemary preserve to dress your beef, Nor forget me, which I advise in chief. The singer undoubtedly received this gratuity which he expected, especially wdien he spurred on the housewifery with his carols:— Now, Mrs Betty, pray act up and rise, If you intend to make your Christmas pies; Scum-big tlie pewter falls to Cecily s share. And Marjory must clean tlie house with care; And let Doll's Ingenuity be seen In decking all the windows up with green." Not content with giving vocal utterance to his advice, the bellman, ceasing a little while from singing out the chimes, went his rounds, leaving at the different houses copies of verses containing the good wishes of the seasons, similarly to a practice of the present newspaper deliverers.

Somewhat Mixed.

An Ohio man, who had visited Gotham and got many new ideas, returned home and re-marked most of his goods, so that he could say the price of this and that was so much, with so much off. Everything seemed to work well for a week or so, when one of tho clerks said he needed a little move posling. "For instance," ho exclaimed, "we arc giving twenty oil'on all wooden ware." " Yes.' " And pails are twenty cents apiece ?" "Yes." "Then every time a man wants a pail ho gets it for nothing, end if he takes two I give him twenty cents." ".lames, are you a bom fool?" demanded tho merchant. "No, sir," was the prompt reply. "I've got rid of the eight dozen nails wc. had stored up stairs in less than a week, and have promised five dozen move. If you have a clerk who ['.leases customers more than I do, trot him out."

TEA VERSUS BEER.

A Veritable Storm in a Te-,,,

(FRoMoUKLON^Co Kßl;si>osi)est^

Ax amusing controversy has fo- . past been filling tul ' . 6ti* "Tea versus Bee," DrEdwardsJ!!. Bangor, fo a lectm .. h he ' r 7- ot delivered in Wales, h„ pTn'l ?„ eC?n% that too much tea-drinkSa. .H ''^ habit, and that a generation ol n_^" g. ."* contented peopledffi erS&' cesssive indulgence in t Sf beverage distilfed from the iLveSli. tea plant. The report of this il'1 * atoneeattracted theattention of journal S. ' and the Dean was , rnn x .-|uurnahsts ( chaffed in almost ev_r get' JM* He accordingly Vote to the S^J1 * that at the meeting _ qSo?ft speaking jocularly ; nevertheless he insist' on the truth of his statement fet £' taken „, excess, was a very injurious driS'' and he also reminded teetotal advocate that there was need for temperance the consumption of tea, a. £lf __" of beer wine and spirits. Afh. this letter appeared everybody hS something to say on the matte. The f , ke [T? °' $ a '"raourous article, entitled effects of tea drinking on a happy husS ""1., atL . ' di°. m , b' Mr Sala S "Illustrated London News" made merry over the Dean's onslaught on the S The "I'r.nce of Jouruflists," as Mr S is sometimes termed, quoted as the earliest medical opinion on tea, that of Dr. Salmi in the "Family Dictionary,"pubhshft 1/12. The doctor there recommencU thee, as he cads it, as a remedy for gout and dropsies, but goes on to say that them is little difference between English « S (which was only s i ne leaves gathered when young) and Indian "thee," and the learned physician therefore advises the use of Ene hsh rather than Indian "thee." "Truth" contained a long and exceedingly clever artice on the subject, in the course of which the writer (presumably Up. Labouohere) said : " The other day a great doctor remarked to me there would not be. so much harm in tea if it were not for th. quantity of cream commonly used with it I repeated this to a lady, who declared that her own doctor had told her that very morning that tea was unwholesome, but if she oly took plenty of cream in it, it would not do ncr nearly so much harm. I then began to reflect. Whatever the doctors say I have no doubt that the general substitu tion of tea for beer has been an undoubted benefit to the labourer. The tea-drinkin? artisan consults his own strength as well at the interests of his pocket. Then again whilst tea morning and evening, taken with a meal, is probably wholesome enough, the exceesive indulgence in additional after noon teas may justify to some extent what the Dean of Bangor says about weakening the stomach and pre-disposing to stronger drinks. On the otherhand, no doubt a cup of tea at the right time will often stave off' a headache, and enable us to go through our three hours before- dinner with less strain and greatly improved temper. This is the real secret of afternoon tea. Ife use is to oil the social machinery in doing the work of the current "At Home." li. this capacity tea is effective, and in moderi tion I do not see why it need be dangerous. The use of tea at night is another veiy mixed question. If your nerves are fatigued tea will often make you sleep, but it you are. over-excited it will keep you awake and. restless. As a rule, most late workers are" in the habit of sipping tea. .Many do nbt! find that it injures the sleep, and I suppose! that most doctors would aaree that, if this is the case, tea for the student is far better than alcohol in any shape. These remarks also apply to coffee. Black coffee in hot countries seems to be the great panacea for all the woes of life. It appa rently suits some late students and business men better than tea in times of pressure, and it is certainly superior to any form of alcohol. A head clerk in one of the largest offices in London told me that during a fortnight of commercial panic, when all the employes were kept working overtime, most of them took to stimulants. My friend said, ' I foresaw what was coming, and when the crisis arrived I cut off all alcohol and substituted coffee. At the end of the fortnight most of my colleagues were j knocked up, while I. was as fresh as i bird.'" i!

One amusing incident in the discussion occurs in a letter to the " Daily Telegraph," in which a working man accounts for the extraordinary energy with which his wife pressed tea-drinking at home, by stating that she was trying to consume as much ot it as possible, to enable her to get a Brit tania metal tea pot and a set of china which were to be "given away" by an enterprising grocer when a certain quantity of tea had been purchased. This pernicious system is no doubt very common in poor neighbourhoods, and is a ready means of getting rid of large quanti ties of inferior tea.

After all this discussion there can only be one opinion among sensible people, and that is, that tea, like every other drink, is injurious, if taken in excess; but that it is a healthful and invigorating beverage when taken, as it should be in moderation. "*

A Curious Lottery for a Wife.

The London " Times " of Friday, Octobers 2(3, contains the notice of the death of Lord Congleton, at the age of 78. " Ihe: Kight Hon. Yesey Parnell, Lord Congle-: ton," says the "Times," "was born in June, 1805." His Lordship was thrice married—first in IS3I ; secondly in ISS3, to; an Armenian lady, Khatoon, widow of, Yossoof Constantine, who died.in 1865..;: He succeeded to the family honours on the death of his father, in June, 1542. Lord; : Congleton is succeeded by his brother." ..;, ■■:, While in India two years ago I chanced to,, hear quite a romantic episode in the life of _ this peer, which possibly might not other wise find its way into print. Fifty years ago, in 1533, there were at Bagdad, in Asia j Minor, three young men, missionaries of a=> new sect, the Plymouth Brethren, if I am not mistaken. One of them was Francis ■ W. l\c\vman (brother of Cardinal Newman), : a man who has distinguished himself for as. pronounced radicalism in religious teach ings as any man in England ; the other was John Yesey Parnell, and the name of the . third. I have forgotten. At a time', when it became necessary to return to Eng- , land, the sole result of their missionary labours was a young and beautiful Ar menian widow. It was impossible to leave her behind at Bagdad, as, by her apostacy, she had been disowned by her friends. What, to do was made the subject of prayer ful consideration by the young men, and it was finally decided that it was the duty of : | one of them to many her as the only means of rescue. They cast lots, and the lot fell ' uiioii John Yesey Parnell. After his mar- . riage ho took her' to England, and five years later she became Lady Congleton, living, it „ appears, till ISfio. The story is authentic, and the episode is noteworthy as an evidence of an enthu . b siasm which has few parallels in missionary enterprise.— Letter in .V.I. Sun.

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STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, DECEMBER 22, 1883.