A STRANDED SHIP

A STORY OF SEA. AND

SHORE,

13* h. CLARKE DAVIS,

TART IV.

A LIFE FOR A LIFE,

THE wind that had beon gradually rising since noon had grown into a storm before evening, and tho hurtled mists came driving in from tho sea dense and spectral, hiding the fields and woods and rivor; but no rain fell, and above there was a clear, starlit gby, undor which floated tho compact mists and torn, scudding clouds, each in its wny heralding the coming clouds. All night long the wind thundered through the trees, the ospreys in their rudely shaken nests kept up their wild, unearthly cry, the surf beat and hammered on the shore; but through and above it all still shone the clear, BUttiy light of the stars, whilebolow them floated in upon the winds tho mists and clouds. It was at tho breaking of tho day that tho guests at tho old farm-houao wore awakened from sleep by the dischargo of a solitary gun ; it sounded so noar and dis tinct that it startled tho sloepors from their beds. It was presontly followed by a HBco'ndJfoport, and at intervals by others.. Thbh thore was hurried dressing, and a 'quick tramp to Ilio sea by all who lived either in farm-house or cabin, for tho slow booming guns told of another wrbek ; of iifo to be saved, to eomo ; of plii tld'or and telvago, to othors. Professor Daunton had already loft tho house, when he hoard Margaret's voice balling to him. "Will you lot mo go with you?" sho asked, as if foaring a refusal.

" Yes, my girl, and thank you for tho good company. See the people thero, hurrying across the marshes ; thero cannot be a man, woman, or child loft in the village. Those people can scent a wreck in the air, I think."

Thoy hurried on with the rest, the girl holding the Professor's arrh, and occasion ally casting quick, timid glances behind her, ovidontly looking for some one whom she had not soon among the other guests goiiig down to tho soa. They got down in time to see the men and horses thundering along the hard beach* with the life-boats on thoir rough carriages, surrounded by tho yelling Wreckers, mad with the excitoment of perilous adventure. They trotted along iidei their hands upon the gunwales of tho oats, grim and alert, like artillerymon urrytng to the front, full of tho fire and ravery of tHe battle; The horses flew hlong, untouched by Avhip or goad, aa if theyTcnefr the valtiß of the freight they bore and tho necessity for speed: But When the wreckers arrived opposite to the Stranded ship, against which the waves thumped mercilessly, there fell a dead silence among them all, wreckers, fisher men, and Villagers alike, and they looked toward the monster wreck and then into 6aCh other's faces, hopeless, dismayed. It was ho use, they saidj one to the other; no boat could live in such a sea.

It was an emigrant ship, from Liverpool; and about her decks and lower rigging, which the sea almost constantly washed, fctung her helpless, doomed passengers and crew, as thick as beoa about the hive, She had come on broadside to the bar, at that treacherous, dark hour before the dawn, and was strained badly; yet she still held together above decks, but at low-water line showed an ugly break in her hull amid

ship. The people of the village had built a fire of the ocean wrack gathered from along shore, for the wind, blowing a hurricano directly on land, chilled them to their bones. They stood or sat huddled about it inpictnresqucgToups, generally silent, look ing off to where the ship lay hard and fast on the bar; wondering in thoir stolid fashion how long she could hold togother, with the sea thumping her sides in that way, and ofton making clear breaches over her from stem to stern. The women who had husbands in the wrecking service stood about the boats on which the men sat, on treating and forbidding them to venture out. They needed little entreaty, yet somehow they felt that out thero, with those despairing wretches, and not idly here on shore, lay their duty ; and in more than one breast among those rough follows the Bense of doty was stronger than sense of fear, or love of wife and child. It only needed the magnetic example of one man, more daring than the rest, to hurry them all into the boats, and, once there, to risk everything for humanity and duty. Captain Brown,, the master, stood apart from hie men, talking ,to the Professor and Margaret. "Is there no hope for those poor people, Captain Brown ?" she asked. " Surely with these brave men, who know the sea and shore, you cap do something Help them, Captain ; they are so many ; there are women and children among them, such as your wife and children are. Try^ to help them. Do not let them go down into the sea" before our eyes without making a singlo effort, Captain." The girl's hand had caught bis own, and her wet, passionate eyes looked right into his, pleading with him for the women and children, who had their counterparts in his own home and heart.

"It's no use. Marg'ret. She's doomed, that ship is, an' she'll go down afore our eyes, an we can't help it. I'm main sorry, but we can't help'em." •? I am not a strong man, Captain Brown, said the Professor slowly, " but I was ac counted a good stroke once in the Cam bridge crew, and I would like to make one of a party to attempt the rescue of those people there.' "You would— you? Thon by the good Lord, Professor, I'll mako another. Hollo, men ! I daren't force one of you into that boat wbilo the sea pitcheß like that, .though it's your duty, you know, msn ; but who'll volunteer' to go out there with a line to that Bhip? It's a desp'rit service, but Pro fessor Dannton is going an I'm going; and now, who else'llgo? Good for you, Bill Shadrack; good for you, Tom Hemphill; you're men, you are. Now some more of you as hasn't got anybody at horae. Who's the next man to get into tho boat? Two others instantly volunteered, and despite the cries of children and-wive?, the men leaped into the boat, and each one with a last look shoreward, quietly poised his oar in the air, stiffened himself in his place, and sat solemnly watching the mountainous wave over which he was to be hurled. Half a hundred brawny hands seized the boat and tried to launch her, un -BucceßßSully at first; but on the fourth trial ahe plunged into the breakers, and in the next moment she was thrown high and dry upon the beach, smashed like an eggshell; her crew of six all safe, but all a good deal bruised and hurt. The oid Captain gathered himself up with the rest. " I told you it was no use, Professor," he said. "I know a sea when I see it, and I knowed no boat could live a minute out thoro."

"I see it is no use, Captain. God help them all, for only He can now," and the Professor turned away sick at heart, not noticing tho blood dripping freely from his fingers. i But Margaret was in an instant at his side, tying her handkerchief about his bleeding band. When it was done she went up to the fire where poor Tom Hemp hill bad been carried, his face gashed and bloody. Margaret stooped down by him, took the rough unkempt head on her knees, while she staunched the blood and bound up the wounds. Tom was onlya fisherman, with no wife nor child to care for his coming or going; but as the beautiful lady put her arm about his neck to raise his battered head to her lap, he closed his eyes suddenly as if he had no right to look at her then, ■ ■ ~. , r "You have done a brave tnmg, Mr Hemphill," ehe eaid as she arranged some blankets under him. "I'd do it agen, Mies, only to have your little finger touch me, I would," rejoined honest Tom. , ■■ , , "It was better," she said, not displeased, "to have done it for those, poor people there."

" What chance, Captain 1" r It was a pleasant voice that had asked the question, the old wrecker thought, before he looked up at the gigantic figure o£the speaker on horseback; a httlo .00 cheery and careless, though, he thought again, as. he looked into the cool, grey eye, ■ and saw a bright, easy smile on Luke Connor's face; then he Baid : I " Capt'n Connor, I shouldn't be obleeged to tell you, as knows the sea, that, there is :iiw chance for them poor souls on that - wrack. Only God and a miracle will ever rlet them see name agen." :

"Only God and a miracle?" the mar asked, ft doubtful smile on his faoo.

" Yos—jest that, Capt'n. Connor." The Professor stood by joalously watching and noting every expression of the man who had robbed him of his wife and home and lovo; and remarking his light, incre dulous tone, his careless bearing in the faco of such calamity as there was before him in tho stranded ship, he turned sud denly away, afraid of himself ; afraid lest hia anger and contempt should make him drag ilio cool, indifferent devil from his saddlo, and boat tho life out of him. He thought of Margaret as this wretch's wife, and his heart grow sick within him. " Havo you tried the boat, Captain Brown ?" Luke Connor asked.

" Docs that look as if wo had tried the boat, young man ?" and tho old wrockor pointed sternly to where the shattorcd frag ments lay strewn about tho beach.

" Very much like it, Captain Brown ; but are there no more volunteers?"

Luko Connor did not wait for tho savage answer of tho wrecking-master— but rode down to the wreckers and their wives—a gallant, noble figure, straight as a maple, and as shapely, holding his im patient horse in hand easily as a child holds a kitten : a powerful figure, robust, hardy, wearing easily and gracefully the strength and norve of a dozen common men.

The wreckers' faces lighted up pleasantly as they touched their hats to the gallant sailor, who had deiied the daugers of tho inlet an ho swept into the river one day. They had boen witnesses to his bravery, his skill they could understand, and his strength they envied.

"My men," ho said, as he drew rein among them, " you know me. You know that I can inakc my offer good. I will givo a thousand dollars to every man who lends a hand to carry a line to that ship !"

A dead silonco among tho men, flashing eyos and dark scowls among tho women, followed tho offer of the speakor. "What, no answer?" ho said. "You want moro. Well, you shall havo it. Any six of you stand out thoro, and name your prico. Don't bo afraid ; I'll pay it down on tho nail."

Ho paused, but no one stirred; the women crept closer to their husbands, hold ing their arms and glaring savagely at Connor.

"You won't go? Then lot one man among you swim to that ship, and ho ehall bo tho owner of Captain Brown's sea farm. You all know it—you all know that it will be a fortune to any one who owns it when your railroad comes down here. I will give it out and out to the man who swims to that ship. Still no answer? Why, you cowards, are you afraid of a bit of dirty water or of some salt spray washing over you ? Will nothing tempt you, you miserable dovils ?"

"Wearo not cowards, Captain Connor, but no boat can live out there ; it has been tried, and no man among us can awiui thore," a wrecker said,*dogfjodly. " Try it again, you cowards. omy God," he exclaimed, " foronohour's lifo of the old Argo, and I wuuld show you what a singlo man could do. I would sail hor out thero, if the waves of hall washed hor sides ; you have boon upon the seas all your miserablo lives, and yet not a man of you will stir."

The bitter words wcro scarcoly uttored, when a gaunt old fish-wife, a woman tall and muscular; apparently, as himself, her arms bardd to the shoulders, her face as brown as the dead kelp, her sharp features watched over by grey, hawkish eyos, hor voice shriller, more piercing than tho wind, seized his bridlo, and with a quick jork threw Luko Connor's horse back on his haunches.

" Cowards, are wo ?" she cried. "Then ■what are you ? What are you, coming here to tempt to their ceitain death these men with children and wives? Why don't you go yoursolf? What makes you tempt other men with fortunes greater than they ever dreamed oi, to do a thing your own cowardly heart will not lot you do? What is your dirty money to you ? You never worked for it; no, not a penny of it,. You don't know the value of money ; these men do. You never worked with the nets, wet to tho armpits, from sunset till morn ing, for a poor mosa of fish to keop starva tion from your door! You never worked in storm, in sleet and hail and snow, for a dollar a day, at wrecking and saving human lives. These rnon have done it hundreds of timci>, and will do nothing olso as long as long as they live ; and the like of you comes here tempting them with more money than they could count over. Go cany a line to the ship yoursolf ; save your filthy bribes, you murderer, and earn tho right to call our sons and husbands cowards, Go your self."

During tho delivery of this fierce tirade, Luke Connor sat back on his horse, moro amused than vexed at the earnestness of the old .fish-wife, until tho singlo word murderer escaped her lips, and then his cheeks blanched, and he grew dizzy for a moment; but recovering himself, he leaned forward in his saddle and gravely addressed the wreckers one and all.

"My friende," ho said, " I am sorry. I was wrong, and this good wife is right. I will carry a line to the ship." The old woman lot go the bridle, stared hard into the man's lace, full of nnbolief, and for a moment her haggard countenance expressed it, but something she saw in the calm, solemn eyes of Luke Connor told her that he meant to do it, and it chilled the blood in her heart. Her voice was not shrill now, but husky and full of pain. " You," she said, " you carry a line to yon poor wretches ! It can't be dono, Capt'n Luke—it can't be done, I tell you. I'm only a miserable old woman, but I know, I livod on this coast before you was born, Master Luke, and I have seen the sea sinco I was a baby, and I know it, I do. I'm hurt that I vexed you. I didn't mean to call you a murderer, I didn't mean to be rough and to make you do a mad thing like that, but you drove my man bitter hard with your piles of money and your hard words. You can't save 'em, Captain Luke; »nly God can do that" The. woman clung to his arm at last, as if by her simple strength aho would hold him back. "Then, undor God," he said solemnly, " I will do it."

She turned fiercely upon the gaping wreckers, who stood 'in little groups, shaking their heads ia earnest protest and excitedly discussing this new danger. They readily forgave Luke Connor his hard words. They had seen him do a braver thiDg than they had ever dono when be fore them all he lashed hia mainaheet to tho deck in a fierce storm, at the moment whon his crew would no longer aid him; they had seen him sail his toy ship through the hungry mouth of hell, as it were, into their river. They liked this young fellow, who threw his money around among them so lavishly, who had helped thorn at their nots, sat on their hearths, shared their luck in deep sea fishing, and who was a hail-fellow well met with the humblest of them all. They knew him to be so reckless of personal danger that he would certainly risk a pass age to the wreck, and they did not like it. " Will you let him do it, men ?" she asked, looking into their faces for help. " Will you let him go out into that boiling hell-broth ? He's been like a brother to you men, be has. You've eaten of his salt ever since he came among us, Do you mean to let him throw his life away before your eyes? If you do, you're greater cowards and meaner men than he cnlled you just now. • You speak to him, Captain Brown, he'll mind you." " What is the young one going to do now, friend Wagner?" the Captain in quired. The young fellow leaped from his horae, drew his arm through the bridlo, and, taking the old wrecking-master by both shouldei-3, looked down in his face, with a grave, tender smile in his eyes. " Cap tain Brown," he said, " I propose to carry a lino to yonder ship. You said, awhile ago, that only God and a miracle could save those poor people there " "Yea, I did say that," the Captain answered, looking blankly amazed at the other's earnestness. "Well, Captain, is not your God as ahre today as He was eighteen hundred years ago ? Is Ho not as strong and able to help His people now as than? Can He not do a miracle to-day as easily as then ? You, Captain Brown, are a prayerful, God-fear ing man—a good man, 1 call you—will you help me!" The old wrecker's eyes measured and weighed^the sturdy giant looking down up on, before he spoke. He had seen in his active life bo many things done which men had riot called miracles, but which had been pronounced impossible, that he was not prepared to say what might or might not be done by a man strong, reeolute, and daring as this young man,

"This aren't the time of miracles, Capt'n Luke, but you're a strong man and you know the sea ; now look for yourself, can you carry a line out yonder—can any man do it?"

Luke Connor deliberately surveyed the prospect before him, before he answered ; he saw ell the danger, all the necessity too, and felt how desperate the chances really werev No other man than he would have tried it, after so fully weighing its impos sibilities ; but no other man would have had his motive, nor been guided to it by the

same curious fancy. But to the morbid soul of Luke Connor, it was no fancy ; rather a solemn message to him from his God, which ho would blindly and implicitly obey. " I can try, Captain Brown," ho said. I am not a boaster, I think you know, but I have lived upon the water a long while; there are few men who can swim as I can; there are but few men with half my strength or endurance. The most of tho danger lies there in that first breaker ; thero is tome in the second, and less in the third. I don't mind that swashing sea beyond, for it I could pass the throe lines of breakers, the tide would favour mo, and I could feel almost certain of success. Will you help me ?"

The Captain turned to his men for counsel. The young fellow was so calm and earnest about this matter, though his oyea shone with an unnatural brilliancy, and Ilia fiico was palo as if death had already marked him out from among living mon. The wreckers looked at tho master, and Bhook their heads.

" It's uo use, Capt'n Luko. The mon are all ageu your doing it. We like you, Capt'n Connor, and we know you've got (ho pluck, but it aren't in mortal power to do it, an' wo aren't going to stand by an' see you dashed to pieces on this shore." " 1 am only one man, Captain Brown," he urged, "and there are at least a hundred mon, women, and children on that ship. She cannot last many hours longer with that sea hammering tho lifo out of hor at every stroke. Sho will go to piecos boforo night. Will you help mo—or am Ito try it without your help ?"'

While ho paused, waiting for tho Cap tain's answer, an awful, piorcing cry went up from tho wreck, drowning for a moment the beat of tho waves and tho roar of tho wind. The mon turned to tho vessel and saw that she had parted amidships, and that men and women woro struggling in the sea, clinging desperately to fragments of tho wreck.

The old wrecking-master gavo but a yinglo glnnco at this new and imminent danger, and then said : " Yds, Capt'n Luko, I'll help you ; there's not a man hero as won't holp you. But havo you squared accounts up thore ? Is it all right with you, Capt'n ?" "It will be all right, if I don't como back. I will have squared all accounts then, Captain Brown," the man said, grasp ing tho other's hand; "for then I Bhall have g'ven a life for a life." "I don't exactly know what you mean by a life for a life, though I've been taught that works aren't nothing without faith and repentance ; but if you don't como back— an' God holp you will—l'd like to stand near you up thoro; I'd be satisfied with your chances." Thore was some salt water in the old fellow's eyes, and his voice trembled a bit as ho released Luke Connor's hand. " And now, when will you bo roady ?" ho asked.

"In a few minute?, Captain Brown; when I have said good-by to my friends thore. (lot out the linos at onco, and lot tho first one bo as light and strong as possiblo; have ropes fastonod abovo and run down on either sido of the linos a few foot apart. Tho men can hold on by them closo to tho breakors, and maybe savo mo from being dashed ashoro in case I make a mistake Lot the strongest and coolest men go to the end; thoroaro nono of them, I think, who will mind a knockdown or two from tho soa on my account?" Ho looked down among thorn, shaking hnnds with ouo and all, smiling his gland, bravo smile, hisoyea wondrously bright and tondor.

"All right, Captain Luke. There's none here as will shirk any danger to holp you."

Luko walked up the beach to the fire, where the Professor and Margaret wero still busy, io nursing poor Homplull. When yet several yards distant he called to the Professor, who looked annoyed for a moment, but got up and went to him. The two men had not spoken together a dozen times during tho summer, and then only when it was unavoidable.

The younger man was the first to speak, as they now stood face to face. His usual habit of restraint in presence of tho Pro fossor was gone; and as he spoko, tho simple, earnest manner of the old, boyish time was upon him, which was curiously puzzling to the other. "I think that you know mo, Professor Daunton, despite your nlloctcd ignor anco?"

" Yes, Mr Connor, Ido know you. At college 1 know you for a brilliant, passion ate boy, and I know you now as a brilliant, reckless, and dnngorous man." " Hard words, Professor Daunton, and you are a bravo man to say thorn in my tooth in this way, but I won't quarrel with you now. O»o question, if you .please. Have you told Miss Daunton all you know of me ? Understand, me, I don't dispute your right to have done it " The Professor interrupted him, speaking with his usual grave, controlled manner. " No, I have told her nothing. If I had such a right, I never used it." "Professor, Daunton," Luke Connor eaid, " you are a braver man than I thought —a braver and a better man than I could ever be, sir."

"I have been an honourable man, I trust, if that is what you mean. Having answered your question, may I consider our interview at an end ?" tho Professor asked, touching his hat and moving away.

" One moment more, if you please, Pro fessor Daunton. I would have liked, even at college, to have mado such a man as you my friond ; but that was not possible ; you never liked me- and then my trouble came '" Luke Connor spoko hurriedly as if the moments of his lifo wero numbered. " But that is nothing now to oithor of us. I am going to carry a lino to yonder ship ; and beforo I go I am glad to havo loarnt that your sistor does not know my story. It will bo easier to die thinking that she will never know it; that she can always think of me as she knows mo now—at my best."

When Luke Connor announced so quiotly hi 3 resolution to the Professor, the grave scholar, whose sympathies with bravo deeds lay very near tho surface, but had deep roots in his nature, came closer to the speaker, his faco lighting up with instinctive recognition of tho greatness of the man before him.

"You must never attempt that, Mr Connor," he said, earnestly. " All that men can do has been tried here to-day already. But I know you better now than I ever knew you before; and I promise you that Margaret shall never know your old, sad secret, if I can keep it from her. But you must not make this hopeless at tempt. You will? Are you sure that there is nothing that I can say or do that will cause you to abandon it ? Trust mo there is nothing that I will not do." " You can do or say nothing, Professor Daunton. It is my one chance. I have not lived a good, true life since wo parted. I havo lived to myself and for myself, abusing and degrading what was best in me. I have read somewhere that God grants it to but few men to carry a line to a stranded ship. I have a fancy that He will grant it to me. If he does, I shall take it as a token that my sin is forgiven me. But if it be His will that I shall perish in the trial, it will be best so, for the weight of my crime has been heavy on me these years, and I am tired. You once refused to take my hand, Professor ; will you take it now ? I somehow feel already as if the miserable, unclean past was dead for evor, as if I was again the equal of honourable men."

The Professor took the proffered hand and hold it, whilo he said, " Forgive me, Mr Connor, that I did not understand you sooner. It has been my loss. I can under stand, I think, that you feel as if God had called you to do this thin?; but think again, and let me and Margaret dissuade you from it." "You could not dissuade me; I even think she would not try to do it. Let us say good-by here. The men will be ready before me."

They held each other's hand for a long while, as it seemed to those who saw them, and thensaid, "Good-bye;" but Luke Connor did not go ;ho stood irresolute for an in stant, an unuttered question on his lips. The Professor, seeing something in the man's glowing eyes as yet unexpressed, asked him what it was. " If I should come back, Professor Daun ton ?' Connor asked. " If you should come back to us, Mr Con nor, there is no maa living to whom I ■would rather give my sister than yourself," the Professor answered, heartily. "Thank you, and good-bye again." " Good-bye," said the Professor. _ Then he stood looking after the_ man,- going so bravely to his death, with already the glow of immortality in his eyes, yet with the springy, buoyant step of youth ; and the loyal gentleman had only sorrow for the brilliant fellow, harbouring not a thought of how Luke Connor's death would affect his own cause. "He was a brave, true man. , It had already spread around among the people on the beach that Captain Connor intended carrying a line to the wreck ; and when they heard the story, and saw by the wreckers' hurried prepara tions that it was true, they gathered

about him, tearful and quiet, silently taking the proffered hand, tho womon sobbing ovor, or showering kisses upon it, saying under their breath, " God bless you."

Directly ho stood before Margaret. Her face had grown pallid and haggard since she had heard the story.

" I am going now, Margaret," he said. " Let us say goodbye quickly. The curious kindueßS of these peoplo is taking the strength and nerve out of me. I must go at once."

She put out her hand uncertainly, like one gone suddenly blind, and groping in tho dark. She only Baid, "Is it right for you to go?" " Yes, it is right," he answered. "Then go, Luke—and God bless you, and bring you back to me. •'ln the olden timo, Margaret," ho said, tho Roman mothers—not braver nor noblci than you—whon thoy sent thoir sons to the battlo, they sanctified thorn for doath by a kiss ; I have thought in this last minute that death wails for mo out thero ; will you kisg mo now,?" She bont forward and kissed his fore head, bared reverentially fur her lips to touch and anoint for death. Then all tho fierce, hungry passion surging in hor woman's heart mastered her, and she threw her arms about him and held him close to her broaet. "O God!" whe cried; "1 daren't do what is right. I cannot let you go, Luko—l cannot lot you go." But hor hold about him relaxed, ami elm sank down motionless upon the sands.

(To he eouliniioL)

A Peculiar Sect.

A Visit to tub Shakhks.

A PJ'lw weoks ago I was in tho Now Forest, and I thought that I would pay a visit to tho Shakors. After driving a few miles, I slopped at a small roadside inn, and in quired for thoir whereabouts. I was told that they were in a field about a mile further on, and that I could not miss them, as I should see a quantity of sheds. Having at last discovered them, I passed through a gate, which was opened by a decent-looking man. He said that he was ono of the fumily, and conducted me into a shed. It was roofed with American cloth, there were two or three long wooden tables in it, at which some women wero seated sowing and ironing, and thoro was a stovo in the middle. " I will go and fotch tho Mother," said the man, and ho disappeared. Left with tho women all I could get out of them was "Yes" and "No." Soon, how evor, tho door opened, and tho Mother entered. I had expected to see a weird sibyl. I found myself in tho presence of a sharp-foatured, but not unpleasing, woman ofaboutfifty. Showasarraycdinacloanwhito dress, on hor linger glittered a diamond ring, and a voluminous gold chain meandored over hor breast. Tho Mother was chatty, and wo soon got upon friondly forms, confronting oach other on two chairs : boforo tho stovo. Hor convocation was a mixture of shrowdnens in temporal matters and ravings on spiritual matters. Sho cx plainod to mo, as one of tho most ordinary of tilings, that she had heard a voico : this voice had told her that tho Deity had onco appeared in the form of a man, and that it was about to appear in the form of a woman. " And whoso is this form to be V" 1 asked. " Miuo," sho replied, as sho put a few coals on tho firo. "I am tho Deity." "Im mortal, I supposo?" "Yes, 1 shnll never dio. Ido not fool a day older than I was twenty years ago." "Beautiful forever," I mummied, and she smiled at the compli mont. "Aro those ladtOß also immortals ?" I said. " Woll," she answoral, "1 am not prepared to say so, for if I did, and they were to dio, what would be thought of me! It depends upon their faith." "In you ?" "Of course." Somo of the ladiea nodded to each other in a dreary way at this announco ment. One was a crone, who sat rocking herself on her chair and glaring at the coiling. I have seen such persons in lunatic asylums, and I mako no doubt that she was three parts an idiot. There are two or three protty girls, who had a sly, wild expression, but tho others seomed to mo to be much liko charwomen. "How many Shakers aro there?" I asKod tho Mother. "Wo do not call oursclvos Shakors, but Christitos," she said. "Tho family consists of about fifty ; thirty-nix are womon, and sixteen are men." "And what do you live ou?" "Our labour." "Do you manufacture anything, or sell your garden stuff.1"' "No." "I suppose that you occasionally havo to buy some thing—tho roof of this room, for instanco ; you could not have manufactured tho material?" " Woll, wo bought that." "But whoro did you got tho monoy?" "Tho Lord provided it." "Yes, but I don't supposo that your American cloth came down direct from heaven ; through whoso hands did it reach you?" "Frionds have beon kind to us, but sometimes we aro without dinner." "And aro thero to be no more births in this world?" "Thoeo who have faith ond who are immortal do not want to marry." "But suppose that young lady thero were to full in love with some one, ahould you hinder hor from marrying ?" and I pointed to ono of the protty young girle. "No, cortuinly not; but if die wore to fall in love, and if she were to wish to marry, it would be n proof 0 flier want of faith." "Immortality in single life, or mortality in married life?" 1 said. "Precisely." Tbon tho Mother and I strolled out to look at the other sheds and tho garden. Thoro woro two sheds with beds —ono for the men, tho other for tho women. The beds looked clean and comfortable, but wero crowded too closely together from a sanitary point of view. Tho Mother had a room to horeolf, but sho did not take mo into this sanctum, and thero was a shed with a grand piano and a harmonium in it. "For your services, I presume?" "We have no services," sho said, " but on Sundays we meet together to sing and dance." "Devotionally?" "No, rather for amusement and exercise. Wo often have a good many visitors." Just then a good-looking young man, somewhat of a rustic dandy, mado his appearance. "My son," said the Mother; and the young man explained that he had boon out for a walk. My divine guide now invited me to accompany her into the garden. It was well kept, and in the main devoted to vegetables, but each member of the'family had a private flower-garden. The "Mother" seemed to me to know a good deal more about gardening than theology, but she occasionally reverted to tho former, and I could not holp thinking how vory difl'orent woro the goddesses of old when thoy con descended to appear to mortals and to dis course with them' in woods and groves. On leaving the establishment, I flaw a box for contributions, into which I deposited my mite. And 1 should say that the en tire nonsense is got up with a view to this box. Mrs Girling may have hod a dream, but I hardly think that she herself believes in hor divinity. She has no money. A few of the men and women who joined her had a little, but this has been spent. Thoy may not live in luxury, but they aro com fortably clothed, and from their appear ance I should imagine they haw quite enough to eat. W.ere tho " family " to break up, they would have to work, some in the fields, others as domestic servants. They prefer to loaf about, gossiping, play ing the piano, dancing, and occasionally doing a little light and easy work in a garden, and to be supported by those who visit them out of curiosity. Ah- they have succeeded, so far in this, I am only surprised that more " Mothers " do not found more "families."

Wo live in an age when a man or a woman has only to announce the possession of Borne mystic gift in order to live on fools. This Mrs Girling, who lives by boldly Baying that she is a goddess and immortal, is not one whit worse than the host of clairvoyants, spiritualists, table turners, thought-readers, and other humbugs who live by quackery and deception; nor is there one atom more real evidence in favour of their pretensions than of hero. The other day, a woman called Blavatsky turned up in London. She pre tended to hold communication with an " astral " Thibetan named Koot Hoonii. In India she had already obtained notoriety. She had there a " shrine," where, I suppose, offerings were deposited, and the astral Thibetan either appeared in person to her dupes, or answered letters they wrote to him. Unfortunately, however, her confederates there have revealed the mechanism with which she performed her tricks. Not in the least abashed, she, or one of her disciples, has written a letter to the "Times" to explain. The explanation is that these confederates had actually manufactured secret, doors, &c, in order to revenge themselves on her. Whether this is more likely, or it is more likely that this owner of an astral Thibetan is an impostor, any one may form an opinion. But so credulous is the age, so utterly incompetent are those who love mysticism to understand by what evidence phenomena beyond the recognised laws of nature ought to be suppoited, that numbers will still swear by this Blavatsky woman and her "astral" visitant, and she probably will eat, drink, clothe herself, aad enjoy1 all the comforts that she desires by means of this impudent and detected, imposture. Where are the police?—" Truth."

A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

Feminine Facts, Fancies, and Frivolities.

BY ELISE,

Autumn Weather—Suopping and Wonder. ful Bargains—New Bonnets atLouise's- Monchoir Hats-Indian Fabrics-Liberty's in Regent-street—A Hint — Christmas Cards — Painted Lace — Fancy Soaps— Scent—Over Perfumed—Calling UroN Maky Anderson—Dh. Griffin and W. S. GiLBEnT—" Romeo and Juliet "—Repro duction of "Tiie SorcererI'—New Dance and Chorus—Successful Revival—The Great Mogul—Coming Publishing Season —Autobiographies and Reminiscences— Yates's "Fifty Years ok London Life"— Travels—Annual Volumes of Magazines "Beauty and the Beast," &c\, &v.

London, October 17. DjiAK Mb Emtok,—We lucky Londoners aro enjoying ii uerios of tine, fresh, crisp autumn days, mich as you antipodiun folk may read about, but can never, never ex perience. Shopping in such weather would be truly delightful work, even if all tho great West End emporiums wore not (as at present happens to be the case) brimming over with attractivo novelties and wonderful bargains. Inspired by a hint in "Truth," I wont to Louise's — the great bonnet shop— on Thursday last, and incpected her latest croations named (after the differont varieties o{ cholera gonna if you plcaso) " Microbe " and "Manon." Tho peculiarity of these quaintly chrisloned head-pieces consists in the shapo of tho crown, which goes up in a square point just immediately abovo the bump of solf-csteem. In tho plain velvet ones, this lump is very apparent, but in the trimmed onos I didn't think it quite so noticeable. Ono that Mrs Labouchoro specially mentioned was mado of red velvet, trimmed with cut beads to match. The crown was covered with folds of silk, and a largo butterfly bow, placed in front, was also mado of silk, the ends standing erect and vory high. The contro-pieco of this bow was passed through the brim, the latter boing cut across tho middle to admit of this. Another was composed with beaver-coloured velvet gathered round tho brim. This was trimmed with a silk handkerchief.

Handkerchief or Monchmr hats and bonnets aro immensely papular now, and eeom to mo extremely suitable for colonial summer wear. The " Kerchief" (some times of Indian or coloured silk, sometimes of lace or muslin) is so folded that two of the corners cover the crown and the two others stand up angle-wiso in front, above a bow formed of the body of the article. The corners are often embroiderod; oc casionally moat successfully. At the last Sandown races I saw a charming girl in a monchoir hat of creamy Indian silk, the bow corners of which were exquisitely embroi dered with a littlo jockoy cap, stirrups, and bridlo intorminglod

By-tho-byo, talking of Indian and JapancHO fabrics, I wondor if anybody has ovor givon you colonial ladies a hint to write homo to Liberty's, tho wonderful Chinoso, Japanese, and Indian store, in Rogont-strcot, for patterns of thoir ailks, cashmeres, muslins, &c. They aro of all materials tho cheapest, most durable, and most suitable for a hot climato. Thore aro two places in London whoro big selections aro kept—Turner & Rogers's, in Regent street, and Liberty & Co.'s, in Regont-streot. Both linns would, I fancy, gladly send out selections of patterns f/ruiis to any Now Zea land lady with an inquiringmind. Christmas cards aro already shown by Homo of our moro onterprising stationers. In tlio course of tho next fortnight I mean to visit Pater noster Row, and make a careful inspection of all such odds and ends for your delecta tion. At present I can only say that the "Stork " series, which proved so successful last Christmas, has been considerably ampli fied, and that Wilfred Ball has compiled three more charming little portfolios of river etchings, viz': the " Upper Thames," " Cambridge," and " Oxford."

Coloured laco does not sound pretty, but it looks well, and is very fashionable just now. A coarso lace, such as " Yak," has tho pattorn outlined in gold or silver or whito silk thread, as may bo, by which means it is rondorod a very elegant trimming for millinery as woll as drosses. Then girls skilled in tho use of tho paintbrush, are painting thoir lace, and sometimes produce highly artistic effects. The work is so easily and rapidly dono that yards may bo coloured in a few hours. When choosing lace for painting ui>on, caro must be takon to soloct Buch pattorns aa are likoly to give scope for shading und other dolicato offocts. For ovoning wear, painted laco is eminently suitable.

Boware of fancy soaps. I know a lady who has completely spoiled hor complexion by using an olaboiatoly coloured Parisian "swoon." The plain unscentcd glyecrino of Pears and Rimmel ia safest and best. Those who prefer Brown Windsor should be careful to secure tho genuine article, as worthless imitations* abound. Highly Bcented soap, when really good, cornea ex pensive. I bought a small cake of what thoy call Queen's soap at PiesEo and Lubin's, tho other day, and \vao charged 3a 6d. It leaves your hands soft, white, and delicately fragrant. Too much scent is an abomina tion. A very little of RimmoPa " Ex quituto" Bouquet, Atkinson's "Gardenia," or Triiefit's "I. Zingnri " Bouquet on the handkerchief, is agreeable; but women who drench themselves in Lavondor Water, Jockey Club, Heliotrope, or (worse-than all) Patchonli, aro odious, and—too often— not vory cleanly in their habits.

A friend, Mrs , took mo with her the othor afternoon to call upon Mrs Uriflin (Mary Anderson's mother) at Cromwell Houses. Dr. Hamilton Griffin rocoivod us, and wob oxlrtmely courteous. Ho is a fine-looking man, vory talkative, and a thorough Yankee. Think" ing Gilbert must be a friend of his, I naturally spoke of his plays in tho course of conversation. What a mistako it was, to be surel Dr. Griilin at onco launched into a catalogue of grievances against the popular playwright, and abused tho British public for preferring such stuff us "Pyg malion and Galatea" to Shakespeare Gilbert, it seema, gets £30 a night from the Anderson management for tho use of his two pieces. This Dr. Griffin considers far too much, although (according to his own account) ho and Mary seldom " cut up" less than about-£1,300 a-week after paying all expenses. Mr Gilbert, I know, is an extremely disagreeable man, and has probably made himself offensive to Miss Anderson ; nevertheless, considering her success in London with his pieces, I don't think thore should be any growling about tho £30. Misa Anderson herself came in for a minute at tho closo of tho call, excus ing her absence by saying that she was terribly busy .preparing for " Romeo aud Juliet," and meant to see no friends till after the crucial first night. We, I may add, have got seats for that great occasion, so you will hear all about it.

We have not been to many theatres lately. "Princess Ida ""was withdrawn from the Savoy on Saturday, and "The Sorcerer" and " Trial by Jury " put on in its place. Sir Arthur Sullivan conducted both operas in the presence of an immense house, which applauded rapturously. ■ As on the occasion of the opera's first production in 1877, Mr George Grossmith is the wily J. W. Wells; Mr K. Temple, Sir Marmaduke ; and Mr Rutland Barrington, Dr. Daly; all the other players, however, are new. Miss Leonora Bruhatn replaces your old friend Alice May an Aline: Miss Brundram, the deceased Mrs Howard Paul, as Lady Sanga zure ; Miss Jessie Bond, Miss Guilia War wick, as Constance ; and Miss Dorde, Miss Everard, as Mrs Partlet.

The pieco is staged with far greater ejlendour than during its run at the Opera omique, tho chorus of villagers being ao large as to admit of several grand opera effects. It has only been thought necessary to make one slight change in the work, and that is a decided improve ment. At the end of the first act, when the love philtre of Wells begins to take effect, the stage is strewed with stupefied villagers, and, on the rising of the curtain in the second act, they are found in the same posi tion, (hus giving the idea of continuity, which before was wanting. A new chorus and dance introduced hero are extremely pretty, and were enthusiastically re-de manded ; in fact, the whole performance was full of " go." " Trial by Jury " wound up a successful evening merrily, Mr Rutland Barrington replacing Grossmith as the learned Judge.

The comic opera of "Rip Van Winkle " is dying at the Comedy Theatre, and Mr Henderson has determined to produce Audran's "Great Mogul," which failed in Paris last week, violet Cameron (re cently married to a young Jew named Ben zoaucl), will have the principal part. Omnivorous readers, like myself, are promised some rare treats during the cold wintry evenings of this and next month. First and foremost we shall have Mr Edmund Yates's "Fifty Years of London Life;" an olio, podrida of the recollections of the most successful of all modern flaneurs, During hia career as novelist and journalist, Yates has met almost every celebrity of his time worth knowing, and it will be odd in deed if his two volumes of reminiscences are not both entertaining and instructive.

At any rate, they will be all the rage at the libraries. Sergeant Ballantine, too, has , a volume of experiences ready. His first book, you may remember, was a prodigious success from a selling point of view, though moßt of the spicy reminiscences people looked for were omitted. The Sergeant s second work deals principally with his American tour, and is entitled "From the Old World to the New." Messrs Bentley, who a*e the lucky publishers of both these big "literary booms," have also several othor works of travel in preparation. MrF.W. Lucy (carica tured by David Christie Murray in his " Way of the World " as Mr Amelia) follows up that highly successful novel, " Gideon Fleyco," with a record of his tour round the i world, entitled "East by West." Mrs Speedy fills two volumes with an account of hor " Wanderings in tho Soudan" and Miss Gordon-Corny us moans to lot us know what slie saw "In tho Himalayas." Those who liko hcavior reading may find instruc tion in a new volume of " Literary Essays," by Mallock, of "Is Life Worth Living ?" famo, or in "Ovitor Dicta," by Mr Kuesell of tho Liverpool "Pott." Whilnt those who care for mystical verses will doubtless revel in Robert Browning's "Feristah." Tho annual volumes of "Good Words" and "Cassell's Magazino!" are, as usual, well worth every penny asked for them. 1 hear that, owing to an accident to Borne stereo types, tho latter will bo scarce Tho chief attraction of "Good Words" is Misa Tytlor's " Beauty und the Beast," the story of a private soldier who, just at a moment when ho oxpects to bo publicly flogged and irretrievably disgraced for an act of drunken insubordination, finds himself a baronet with i' 40,000 a-yoar. Ho swears off drink for over, goon home to his estate and falls in lovo with a lovely girl, tho orphan niece of a wicket old countess. Tho lattor leads him to believe ho will be accepted ; but when ho proposes, "Beauty" refuses "the Beast" with withoring disdain. On this, the young fellow casts respectably to the winds, and marries a poacher's daughter, with whom he lives a life of drunkenness and oxcefw till an accident leaves him a widowor. Then, onco again, and finally, he reforms, and eventually softens his lady love's heart to such an extent that they marry, and (as in the fairy tale) live happy ever afterwards. This littlo plot is vory cleverly elaborated by Miss Tytler, and makes a capital novel. By-thebye, "Hand and Ring," Miss A. K. Green's latest and best sensation novel, has just been brought out in England by two firms at one shilling and at sixpence. There is not much to choose between the editions.

At Denmy's, on the Strand (about the best general book store in London), I yester day noticed now and cheap editions of Miss Macquoid's "A Bad Beginning" (2s); Charles Reade'a "The Jilt, and Other Stories" (3s fid); "Letters from Hell," by Macdonald (6s); and Hatton's "Three Recruits " (Gs),

A Sharp Young Woman.

Pedlars, like horse jockeys, have a repu tation for being tricky and for not remem bering tho golden rule. At least, they are frequently accused of this, but as a tin pedlar of fifty-nine years' standing, I deny the charge as applying to pedlars moro than to any other class of traders.

Not only do I dony it for mysolf, but for tho majority of tho men who aro engaged in the business—not including, of course, tho many self-styled "agents," those hawkers of patented articles who are found in every State of the Union. But in defence of the old-fashioned tin pedlar, with horse and cart, I pick up the cudgels. We wero as honest as other men, and I wish I could say as much for all the women we havo to deal with. Not that I intend to bo disrespectful to the ladies, for I al ways enjoy trading with them. But during tho last sixty years I havo obtained some very quoor glimpses of the workings of tho feminine mind » when it is intent upon making a bargain. During tho whole of my long career, I can truly nay that I was nover guilty of but one trick of which I am really ashamed, and in that I was outwitted by a young lady. Sho camo within a hand's turn of sending mo to gaol. If I had beon a hand somo young fellow the case might have been differont, or it might not, I cannot say ; but sho was a young woman of good character, and was ajting in defence of a cause which shobelievjd to be a just one. Tho story is against me., but 1 am going to toll it.

To begin with, I waa not in my younger days a temperance man. I waa born in the old Bay Stato before the temperance move moat bogau. My folks, in common with all other families, always had liquor in tha house; and when any one of us were not feeling woll, or were out in the cold and camo liomo chilled, mother would prepare a littlo cup of "toddy " to warm us up and provent our taking cold. So I grew up in the belief that it wae right to drink liquors now and then. None of our family were drunkards, though I must say that ono tf the boys came very near to being one. He saw the awful precipice just as he came to it, and stopping short, turned and escaped it. It isn't everyone can do that, so don't go too near.

When I began peddling, I carried a bottle of " West India" tacked away in my cart. I did not drink, as I have said, to excess, but used perhaps a quart in a month. That was about the kind of person I was then as regards temperance. From 1850 to 185S my " round "—and by round I mean the route over which I sold my goods—lay through a portion or Southorn New Hampshire and two of tho wostorn counties of Maine. I had not been trading in this section very long when tho Noal Dow temperance crusade began, and tho "Maiuo law," wholly prohibiting the sale of all in toxicating liquors, was enactod. That was a law, too, as many persons well remember, which was supported 'by a strong and enthusiastic toroporanco party t a law that had general vigour to onforco it. Then camo dry times. Not a drop ol liquor could bo had legally for lovo or money; and diligent search and chase was made for all illicit Boilers, and for drinkers, too. You may be pure there was moaning among the steady old topers, and not a little discontent among the moderate drinkers. I had a great many of both topera and moderate drinkers among the people on my route. Often, with a wistful look, a man would beckon me aside, I knew what to expect. '' Haven't got a drop of anything in yer cart, have yer, Mr K. ?" When I would reply "No," ho would turn away*in great sadness, or perhaps vigorously berate Neal Dow, or urge me to bring him a "quart" the next time I came from " over Hampshire way." I sympathised with these thirsty ones. I did not favour the "law," or any sort of Erohibitory law then. I looked upon pro ibition as a fanatical raid on every man's rights; and hence I had no compunction in seeing the law evaded or broken. But tho man who broke that law did it at no small psril. The temperance people were alert and merciless. Everywhere the State swarmed with "Watchmen Olubs," " Temperance Bands," and vigilance com mittees. Not only gentlemen, but often ladies, were on these committees. Some of the women, indeed, were among the most successful of tho temperance police. I have said I did not sympathise at all with this anti-rum crusado; and after a ysar or two I hit on the following ruse for outwitting tho "Ramrods"—as the re formers were called by the topers—arid of supplying some of my thirßty friends with , an occasional dram.

I bought a lot of hard-shelled "cushaws," or crooked-necked gourds, as some call them.' These I carefully prepared by re moving the inside of the gourds through a small hole in the stem end—not neglecting to preserve the stem to be used as a stopper, or rather to be placed over the stopper. I had a dozen of these hard-shelled gourds. They held from a quart to two quarts each, and the shells, when carefully dried and shellacked, made very good flasks for water, or any other common liquid that might be put in them. When these were full, sealed up, and ornamented with the stems, held in the proper places by glue, they bo closely re eembled the green gourde that it would have taken a vigilant eye to detect the difference.

These gourds I placed in the bottom of my cart among paper-rags and tag-locks. If anyone saw and spoke of them, I replied that it was a lot that Iliad bought to satisfy a whim.

So it came to pass that a select circle of my customers in the Pine-Tree State re ceived from time to time a gonrdful of something, which I always noticed they were very anxious about. On returning the gourds to me, they filled them with water or grain of some kind, and carefully restored the stem to its place. This kind of smuggling went on for a long time without interruption. My customers were not informers, as you may suppose. I felt in no danger of being betrayed by them.

Nevertheless, I did not make much money out of the business. It was not done by me for money, nor had I any idea of turning my cart into a travelling rum-shop, I never carried more than a dozen gourds at once, and these more to gratify a little circle of genial old fellows whom I knew than for any motive of gain. One day I stopped to trade at a house near the "Corners," in the town of P., where there had of late been several " rum cases" tried. There were threo or four women at this house, and, as usual, they came out to look ovor my tinware and prints in the cart.

Womon always will do that, whether they want to buy or not; vvo expect it. It is ono of the things a pedlar must accept good-naturedly.

When I first began peddling, this habit of tho women made mo angry; for I thought they did it to make me work in folding things up and putting them away again. But that is not the reason. They cannot holp it; it is natural to them. And they like to uee a pedlar fold and replace his gooda carefully, even if it takes him half an hour.

You would think, perhaps, that they did not caro, or realise how much work they make the trader; but thoy do, and that is tho funniest part of it; and think very much more of you if you havo unbounded patience with them. A bright woman always knows that the hus several weaknesses, and she is apt to confide in a man who sheseea knows it, and has a hoart full of patience for her whims. It took me thirty or forty years to learn oven ho much of woman nature. I don't protond to know much about women yet; and, in fact, I never saw the man who did. As I havo gaid, thoro woro threo or four women at the house, one of them a very pretty, blue-eyed young lady about twenty yoars old, who seemed to bo a caller or visitor. Sho came to the back of the cart with the others, and while peering in, hor sharp eyes spied one of the gourds. "Oh," cried she, "do let mo look at that droll, crook-necked squash;" and at once she pulled one of the-n from under the paper rags. It chanced to be one that I had received back from an old customer only the day be fore, full of barleycorns. He had noglected to gluo on tho atom as carefully as he should have done. While the young lady was holding it, the stem camo off and some of the barley ran out. That circumstance I might perhaps have explainod satisfactorily to her, if nothing else except the barley had run out. But something else, not perceptible to the eye, but appreciable by the nose also came^out of the gourd. Sho first sniffed, and then put it to her protty little nose and sniffed again. Then she gave me a quick little look out of the corners of her blue eyes. I knew in an instant that I was caught, though eho did not say a word for a moment or two, and then only asked me, innocently enough, to be so kind as to sell her one of those droll little gourds.

I tried to plead off. I wanted to carry them all home, I said, which was vory true.

But she pouted and seized another one— one of the full ones, too, as it happened— and said that I must and that I should sell her that one.

1 was now in trouble. As coolly as I could I replied, "No, no; I cannot do it." But she had the gourd in hor hand, and I could not very well got it without taking it from hor by force, and that I wouldn't do.

Sho offered mo a shilling, and held on to the gourd. I would not take the money —I knew better than that—but I assured her, since she would have it, that I would make her a present of it. Finding that she could not get me to take pay for it, she ran into the house, got her hat, and started off with the gourd as fast as she could walk. I also started from that locality at once, and drove as fast as I dared. Still, I hoped that perhaps the girl only wanted the liquor for her folks, or to gratify soins whim, though I might have known better.

I had not gone more than three miles from the "Corners" when a waggon, in which were threo men, camo driving up be hind my cart at a great pace. A constable jumped from tho waggon, and arrested me for violating the law. Well, they soon had me under lock and key, and-a search of my cart revealed any thing save a good condition of things for me. They captured, every gourd—five full ones.

What thoy did with them I never knew. I know I never caw them again. At my trial they failed to prove—though my charming young lady acquaintance tried very hard to do so, she being a member of a "Band of Temperance" —that I had actually sold liquor. Thero was a groat deal of fun and laugh tor about tho gourds ; and I barely escaped sentence to gaol, but had a fate to pay, and lost about a week's time beside. ,

And as the years passed I changed my views not a little upon the temperance question..,, Intoxicating liquors are working tlis world vast evil. Almost any effort for the suppression of their use—where the promoters of it are earnest and sincere—is to be commended and encouraged.—Prize Tit-Bit.

A Bulgarian Excitement.

The Holy Synod of the Phanar are getting more than the usual amount of excitement out of the election of a now Patriarch. The ex-Patriarch, Monseigneur Joachim re signed a few months ago, and wrote a letter to the Synod stating that ho was not a candidate for reelection. So far all was woll, when it was discovered that the trade mark stamped in the corner of tha paper on which the letter was written was the rampant lion of Bulgaria, with tho Words " Free Bulgaria" in the Bulgarian language ovor it. Whereupon the venerable prelates of the Synod lost all their small available balance of presence of mind. Such outrage was intolerable ;it was an act of bravado on tho part of Joachim, and the ox- Patriarch meant to say by it, "As you wont havo mo for Patriarch, I'll turn schismatic and go over to the Bulgars." An explanation was demanded of Joachim, and this waa his answer,; " I had no papier minisliriel in the house, and bid my servant go out and buy come. [ I did not notice the trade-mark on what he brought me, and I wrote my letter upon it." Then the servant was examined. " I bought," he eaid, " the paper at a Jew stationer's at No. 8, Tramway - street." Then the Jew, who said, " This is a paper I import because 1 have a large Bulgarian clientary who like lions in tho corner of their writing paper." But all this corroboration of the ex- Patriarch'a statement goes -for nothing. The Orthodox Church of the East has been outraged, the Synod is convulsed, and the press that represents it raves in a style that is awful. The Jew stationer had the best of it; there was a run upon his shop for specimens of the obnoxious paper; the price rapidly went up ; and the last of the stock was cleared out at the rate of two piastres a lion.—"Pall Mall Gazette." .

Growth of Catholicism in Europe

Catholicism has of late yeara made ereat progress among the reigning houses of Ger many. Duke Philip of Wiirteinburg, the only Princo of the Wurtemburj* royal family who possesses male posteiity, is a Catholic, as are all his children. This may perhaps be accounted for by fomale influence; for the Duke's mother was a D'Orloans, and his wife was an Austrian Archduchesß. Duke Paul Frederick of Mecklenberg has brought up all his children as Catholics. All the members of the princely house of Solms- Braunfels are Catholics, many princes of Solms having "married into the church. Count Charles of Schoenburg-Forderglau chau, with his wife and son, were converted to Rome some years ago. All the honours and possessions of the reigning Princo of Schoenburg-Forderglauchau will ultimately pass to this Catholic branch, it being the only one that has male heirs. Prince BlUcher"of Wahlstatt, grandson of "Marshal Forwards." is a fervent Catholic, aB are all his family—thanks to the influence of his mother, a lady of the Catholic family of Larisch-Moenisch. The entire house of Isem burg-Birstein has gone over to Rome; while there hav»been numerous conversions in the family of the Counts of Stollberg. The same may be said of the families of Hahn-Pfeil, Scherr-Thoss, Schoenburg, and a considerable number of others. In Ger many, as in other countries, the conversions of recent years have mainly been among the upper classes.

THE NISERO NARRATIVE.

THE CAPTIVES RELATE THEIR EX PERIENCES.

[From Our London Correspondent.]

London-, October 17. Some time ago I sent you an account of the capture and imprisonment of the crew of the British ship Nisero by the Rajah of Tenom. Many of tho unfortunate fellows died in captivity; but, at last, arrangements wero come to with the Rajah, and the sur vivors act at liberty. They reached Suez on Monday last, and Were at once inter viewed by Mr Cameron, of tho " Standard," who obtained tho fallowing particulars from Mr Crichton, erstwhile chief officor of the unfortunate vessel. It seems that the Nisero was wrecked on the Sumatra coast a"bout midnight on the 9th of last November. The crew landed in their boats, and were surrounded by the natives and made prisoners. Particular inquiries were mado as to their nationality, and after the arrival at the soeno of the Kajah of Tenom the mon wore civilly treated, the captain and others being allowed to go on board to obtain clothes and provisions. Meanwhile the natives plumlored the steamer, bringing everything movable on shore to a hut which had been built for tho purpose, and which was strictly guarded. The prisoners wero also guarded from any attack by the oxcitcd natives. Tho narrative continues :—" After a woek'g stay at this spot we were removed to Tenom, and three houses were allotted us. Tho Rajah treated us fairly, and told us that wo should soon be handed ovor to the Dutch. On the 29th of the month the natives ran into.,our huts and told us that a white man and Tuku Yit had arrived to arrango for our ransom. Tuku Yit was formerly guardian to tho Rajah, and is now his chief adviser. The white man was M. Roura, a French officer, who was engaged on a port of mission on the West Coast of Acheen ; he had several times landed at Tenomand had mado friends with the Kajah. This was why he was asked by the Dutch authorities to arrango the terms of our ransom. M. Roura had gome talk, with the Rajah, and told us his demands [were exorbitant, but that he hoped that tho matter would be arranged, and that we should be released in five dayß. When he went away he left ug some pro visions ho had brought with him. On the Thursday after, the Rajah of Rigas came to Tenom, and talkod with the Rajah, and afterwards told us that the ransom would be arranged. When ho went away he took with him Captain Woodhouse and the Chinese cook, to try and arrange the affair. Captain Woodhouse pledgod his word to the Rajah that whether he could settle tho ransom or not he would return, saying that if he broke his word the Rajah should be at liberty to kill us all. Captain Woodhouse never came back again, and a nice fix it put us into, for his not keeping his word put the Rajah into a terrible rage, and it was lucky he; did not chop off all our heads. However, on the 9th of December, the captain wrote to say that the Dutch were ready to pay the ransom. This put the Rajah, who was getting very sulky, into good spirits, and he sent ub some goats and fowls. Wo missed the Chinese cook awfully tyjien ho first went away, as he had dono all the interpreting for us with tho natives. No news came till the 13th, when a letter from the Dutch Ro3idont of the island was given to us secretly by a messf nger he had sent to ask it it would be possible to surprise the place. Wo sent back word that he had better consult the captain about it. This letter put us all in very low spirits, for it seemed to show that the Dutch wanted to get off paying our ransom, and intended instead to attack the place, when all our throats would, of course, have been cut at the first alarm. The Rajah got more and more furious each day at the captain's not coming back, and used to come down to our huts and go on at us, and ask us whether this was an English man's honour. It was a bad time, and if the Rajah had cut our throats it is only what would havo been fair after ho had been cheated like this. Christmas Day was about the worst we passed all the time we were prisoners; Things began to look quite hopeless, and a dinner of dirty rice, with a little salt, on Christmas Day was not the sort of thing to raise our spirits. However, on the 27th we saw a steamer, which turned out to be her Majesty's ship Pegasus, off the coast. A heavy sea was running on the bar, and the surf boats of the Rajah could not put out; but the Pegasus lowered a boat anditried to get to shore. It was up set near the bar, and we heard afterwards that two men were drowned. On the 2nd of January Mr 'Christiansen arrived. He was landed from a ship, and we heard that tho British Consul had comedown with him, but it was thought better that he should not land, till Christiansen returned to re port how things were going on. They had a long talk, but the Rajah would not lower his terms, and was still furious about, the captain's, breach of faith. Christiansen got to know that the Rajah meant to hold him "as a prisoner, bo he went off in his boat, eaying be must tell the British Consul what the Rajah said, and hoar what could be done. Of course, when he got on board he did not come back again. Three days later the Rajah heard that the Dutch intended to bombard his town, and their shirja came and fired heavily into the place for two days ; but nothing came of it, except that it made our position ever "so much worse, for directly the Dutch ships came in sight we were hurried away inland to Simpany Olio. It waß an awful march, and it is a wonder we got through it. The country was all swamp and bush : at times we were up to our waists in water, then wo were stumbling along through the thick bush, whore the trj&j^s are tied together, with creepers as thick, as a man's arm, and the thorns tore our flesh, to say nothing of our clothes, at every atop. Wo hoped when we once got to Simpany Olio, aftor that terrible march, that our sufferings wero over for a little while, but they were only beginning. Up to this time, though the RajaTi had been furious over the delays and Captain Wood house not coming back, he was not unkind, and we had had enough food to keep us going. ;Ifc was different now. We had nothing to eat but'filthy rice, the worst and dirtiest they could pick out, as it seemed to us, with a pinch of sea salt to flavour it. When wo took our rations to the Rajah and showed him what kind of food we had given us to live on, he just laughed in our faces; and it was the same with all complaints. Our only comfort was a bathe'every day, and often twice a day in the river." On February 22nd some stores were received, on which the crew lived very well till the 22nd of I March, when' they were removed, again to a small island in the middle of the river, which was generally inhabited by tho Rajah. ! "It was a better place than our former quarters. On the 18th the last of the provisions was finished, and we were reduced again to our old food of rice, pump kin stalks, and such herbs as we coukfpick. On the 15th of May a lot more stores came up in canoes ; there being 125 cases, and as some of the numbers on them ran up to 160, we supposed that number had been sent. However, it was very well to get co much, and glad we were, as you may suppose. These 'cases saved the hvea of all here, for if they had not come to,hand none of us would havo lived to tell the tale. We were all so low and weak from bad food we could hardly crawl, and cholera was beginning' among us! One man died of it on the; 18th, and another on the 22nd, but most of those who were ill mended with the better food. Feeling stronger how, we determined to get away at any cost, and decided to.make the attempt to escape when we crossed from the ielandto bury our mate. We did make a start, but the natives discovered it before most of us had got fairly off, and three who had reached the jangle were hunted down and brought back handcuffed together. 'On the 24th another man died of cholera. On September 6th the Rajah told us we were to start at once for the coast, to be handed over to the English, and that day we started with a large escort for Catapang, which was the place fixed on- It bad been a terrible march from Tenom to Simpany Olio, but that was only 12 miles,and we had done it in a day. This lasted four days. For that time, and often all night too, we stumbled on through swamps and jungles, crossingtworiversontheway, wet through, exhausted, worn out. But at last we reached the beach again, and sow the sea and the English ship waiting to receive us. We were handed over to Mr Maxwell, who landed to receive us on thellth.the Rajah saying to him, 'I give back to you your countrymen, whom I have been taking, caro of for the last ten months.' We got on board the boat, and were rowed off to the ship, Mr Maxwell remaining alone in the Rajah's camp until the ransom was sent ashore on our arrival on board." In all, six men died during the capivity.

CLIPTOMANIA.

[FROM THE AUCKLAND " STAR'S " LONDON

CORRESPONDENT.]

Mr Wilkie Collins is occupied with 'a short novel, to be called " Royal Love." The story is said to be in Mr Collins's best vein.

Tho Town Council of Vienna have or* dered an inquiry into the reason why the bakers buy wheat cheap and sell bread dear. They might at the same inquire why ducks swim, why two and two :nake four, and why tho human nature of t. baker does not differ from that of any othur Christian. i—" Globe." Tho Postmaster-Gonoral has given the contract for one hundred and fifty thousand post-cards to a German firm. Only lately it was announced that we had mado oxtensive purchases of gunpowder from that-country, Tho next occasion of our sending over the water will be; we suppose, for soldiers when our own army has disappeared.

The "Fanfulla"eays that the verses by Andrea Maffei on tho visit of the King of Italy to tho cholera-stricken city of Naples have been translated into English by Mra Elizabetta Proby. The lines are as follow:

" King Humbert by the hand hath taken Death, Who, stupefied to view Cour.igo so Kreat and truo, Hia deadly dart flinga down, thinking that he Who thus brnvea Death must more than mortal be."

Thackeray was wonderfully felicitous in his invention of namsa and titles. He is the godfather of two'newspapers—" Vanity Fair"' and the " Pall Mall Gazette": and it may not bo generally remembered that he ante-dated the creation of a Royal Duke dom by a score of years or more. It will be recollected by sjme that Major Pendonnis gave it as a proof of the social standing of Lady Mirabel that he had been received by Lady Rockminster and the Duchess of Connaught!

The scene at the Army and Navy Stores in Victoria-street is really a curious one. Every day from eleven till six the Btreet is crammed with carriages waiting for fair women who are engaged in stocking them selves with all kinds of things, from house flannel to diamond necklaces. The-interior of the building is a perfect hive. of busy buyers and sellers. Many people pass a whole day at the Stores, and I have heard whispers of engagements to marry having actually been negotiated within the walls of this monster shop.—" County Gentle man."

Mr W. G. Grace has made up his mind not to retire fijom the cricket"field altogether next season, but to confine his play to ap pearances on behalf of his county. It is in teresting to know that he has a son, W. G. Grace, jun., who, though only a boy, already shows signs of becoming a good cricketer. It is satisfactory to learn,' too, that Dr. Grace's practice is growing rapidly, though one's satisfaction is damped by the thought "that it is this success as a professional which will be the cause of Mr W. G. Grace's rarer triumphs in future as an amateur.

In view of the number of sharks that have made their appearance on the Atlantic coast this season, attention has been turned to their adaptation for culinary pur poses. The Ichthyophagus Society, at their dinner in New York this month, areto.par take of shark, and. possibly their example may bo followed by porsons desirous of emu lating such an epicurean example. As the Chinese are notoriously fond of sharks' fins, which aro rich in gelatinous matter that gives body to their favourite soup, there may be some chance of turning the present superfluity of sharks to accountj though the truo Celestial epicure is content only with the fins of the great white shark, the ferocious: man-oater, who is happily un known inAmerican waters.

It is seldom that the dreary station, of Aden furnishes uny topic of interest, even of scandal, but it has just done something to redeem its dull fame. The commanding officer of j thei English regiment stationed there called one of his subaltern officers, whilst on parade, "a young blackguard." Thiß was not polite, nor was it. according to discipline. But What followed was less so. After the parade was over the subal tern entered the commanding officer's tent and knocked him down. It is supposed ,that a court-martial must follow, but the regiment being under orders for active service, there are difficulties in tho. w.ay of that tedious method of trial.—" Society.!'

In a preface by Zola to the new- edition of his first work, ■".The Mysteries-Of Mat seilles,"\he tella the World how he ' began his career as a novelist. He writes that his tentative eflbfts at literature had failed; he was often without even daily bread, when the manager of .a; small Marseilles paper proposed to supply him with dents drawn from police reports- if "he would weave them into a consecutive story. Zolu essayed to fabricate a feuilleton out of the material given him, and succeeded. He received £8 per month fer his work, portions of which "appeared in each day's paper, andhedeemedtbesalaryan jlnhoped for piece of lucl

The principle of getting thieves, to Catch other thieves is being carried to the,point of sublimity—perhaps, one step further,-^in the United StalosPresidential election.-^ln- Cincinnati; for instance, the polio? and the city niarßhals are deputed to maintain order, the foremen being controlled ]by the Democrats and thelatter by the Republicans. Tho police promptly go about arresting the marshals, who, as Boon aa they are released on bail, arrest their arresterc, who. are re leased in turn, and thus the peace of the city'is secured—with the exception; of a : '' good deal of pistol-firing,'': in which botb, police and marshals take part —"Globe."

"Femaloßpiesavoasnumerouß as flioa here now,",writes a,New. York, correspondent.. . "Thero is scarcely a store where dry goods - are sold but employs a corps of female de tectives. ; As a rule; wonjen"BcenVa.o].ue morereadily than men ; and when a woman:,' detectivo catchesher victim she is invariably more pitiless than a male officer would be, A woman who becomes a .defective inusi nocessarily relinquish, all feminine individu- , alityi as tlie' experience they must jih avoidably undergo in such capacities' gives - ' them a coarWn bb of manner not calculated to inspire respect such. asinodeSt ladies are - wont to receive:"- The female detectives em- , ployed in the Custom House are expert , physiognomists—that ii, they can invariably read tno smuggler's''guilt on his' or' her - face."—'j'Eclio.

Victor; Hugo haa just returned to Paris I with his grandchildren from Switzerland, where he has, as usaal: of late yeaia, been passing a couple of months. Ho has been ~ greatly benefited by the change of airland the hale old poet is in excellent health and ;. spirits. It was Btated; this time twelve months that the first jtask he intended to apply himself to after^his.holiday waß the , condensation of his play MGromweli "—-pub- . lished in 1827, but never acted—bo as to fit ,it for stage representation; but nothing more has been heard of it since. It is hardly likely to be brought out this winter. With three of Shakspore's plays in active preparation at three of the principal theatres; there is scarcely room for another - novelty in the yrand genre.—" St. James's, Gazette."' • : ; ; ; "Frpm> information received," several zealoua poUce-constables went to church one Sunday. The church they selected was that of St. Martin, Canterbury. They did not,: however, go there to pray, but to pry. "Excelsior" was'their motto for the occasion, and accordingly the party climbed up into the steeple, and from that elevated outlook proceeded to watch the back-door of a certain public-liouEe' within range of their binoculars. They" booked "it that they saw forty thirsty : souls admitted by the .; said back-door during prohibited hours. 'Up till now-the true reason why our churches are fitted with steeples has, been . a debatable point amongßt antiquaries. Now the secret is out. That, particular shape must have been selected to enable the police to detect illicit liquor trflfto.. Whether that be bo or not, or whether it is the most correct:thing;to"convert secrated building dunng^hours: of_ worship to such apurpose, the public, not to_ epeak of the publicans, may decide amongst them ■delves. ;'. "" " :"; ■' ■' '- :' v:!-;:.'

It is ouriouß to note that Sir -Moses < Montefiore (who completed the 100 th year , : of his useful life on the 24th of October) is alone among "strangers" in hia home, at East Cliff, Kamegate. A; Hebrew of the i . Hebrews^ he has none of his own people about him, arid with the exception of his personal attendants, who haye grown old in his service, East Cliff seesfawrfaces from '■ year's end to year's end. His tvwireet rela tions v'eit him occcasioisally. Mi- Joseph ; Levey, who is Sir Moses Mop^e|jote'«>h6ir, making four visits to EBmsgotel^raiiv in the course'-of twelve monthß.Jv'AljW-pld •, gentleman bears his' 100 years bravMyj" Sna : 'tf:> is as well as can possibly be expeot#^!-|i|3 rises lalu, and, with the assistance of n»:'v; old friend and adviter, Dr. Loewe, he man ages to get through his correspondence* before his early bedtime.: Sir Mteea takes ;: no doctor's ''stuff.*' Upon this point ti»» old: gentleman is obstinate.—"life.": : ■'■; ■ -';' .•■■■',.' ;'•' :~ ■ --■ :■ ■■ ~ <A'f;r- "'■•

THE AUCKLAND EVENINu STAR, SATURDAY DECEMBER 13, ism.

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Good Wobds-Fkom Good awthoiutt. ---• • • We confess that we are perfectly amazed at the run of your Hop Bitters. We never had inythißß likeTit,and never heard of the hke. The writer (Benton) has been selling drugs hero nearly thirty years, any has reen the rise of HoStfttertTVinegar arid alll other bittjxs and patent medicineß, but never did any of them, in their best days, begin to have the run that Bop Bitters have. • • We cant get enough oi them. We are out ef them half the ttme. * " TSxtract from letter (o Hop Bitters COjJmgust 22, 78, from Bbnton, Myeks & Co.. WEoleeale Drug gists, Cleveland, 0. Be sure and see.



Miskrableness.—The most wonderful and marvellous succeßsln cases where persons are Bick or pining away from a condition oi miser ableness that no one knows whstailß theui (pro fitable patients for doctors), is obtained, by the us? of Hop Bitters. Theybeginto cure fromtlio Hret do3ft, and keep it up until perfect health andßtre»cthiirestar«a. Kotiwi. ■ ■ - ;