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The Fifth Form at St. Dominic's/Chapter XIV

Never had a Sixth versus School Match been looked forward to with more excitement at Saint Dominic’s than the present one. Party feeling had been running high all the term, intensified on the one hand by the unpopularity of some of the monitors, and on the other by the defiant attitude of the Fifth and the tone of their organ, the Dominican.

The lower school naturally looked on with interest at this rivalry between the two head forms, the result of which, as might have been expected, was the reverse of beneficial for the discipline of the school generally. If the big boys set a bad example and disregard rules, what can one expect of the little ones?

So far, anything like conflict had been avoided. The Fifth had “cheeked” the Sixth, and the Sixth had snubbed the Fifth; but with the exception of Loman’s assault on Oliver, which had not led to a fight, the war had been strictly one of words. Now, however the opposing forces were to be ranged face to face at cricket; and to the junior school the opportunity seemed a grand one for a display of partisanship one side or the other.

The School Eleven, on this occasion, moreover, consisted exclusively of Fifth Form boys—a most unusual circumstance, and one which seemed to be the result quite as much of management as of accident. At least so said the disappointed heroes of the Fourth.

The match was, in fact—whatever it was formally styled—a match between the Sixth and the Fifth, and the partisans of either side looked upon it as a decisive event in the respective glories of the two top forms.

And now the day had come. All Saint Dominic’s trooped out to the meadows, and there was a rush of small boys as usual for the front benches. Stephen found himself along with his trusty ally, Paul, and his equally trusty enemy, Bramble, and some ten other Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles, wedged like sardines upon a form that would comfortably hold six, eagerly canvassing the prospects of the struggle.

“The Sixth are going to win in a single innings, if you fellows want to know,” announced Bramble, with all the authority of one who knows.

“Not a bit of it,” replied Paul. “The Fifth are safe to win, I tell you.”

“But they’ve got no decent bowlers,” said Raddleston.

“Never mind,” said Stephen. “Loman’s not going to play for the Sixth. He’s sprained his wrist.”

“Hip, hip, hurrah!” yelled Paul, “that is jolly! They are sure to be licked now. Are you sure he’s out of it?”

“Yes. Look at him there with his arm in a sling.”

And Stephen pointed to where Loman stood in his ordinary clothes talking to some of his fellows.

“Well that is a piece of luck!” said Paul. “Who’s to take his place?”

“Baynes, they say. He’s no use, though.”

“Don’t you be too cock-sure, you two,” growled Bramble. “I say we shall beat you even if Loman don’t play. Got any brandy-balls left, Greenfield?”

Similar speculations and hopes were being exchanged all round the field, and when at last the Fifth went out to field, and Callonby and Wren went in to bat for the Sixth, you might have heard a cat sneeze, so breathless was the excitement.

Amid solemn silence the first few balls were bowled. The third ball of the first over came straight on to Wren’s bat, who played it neatly back to the bowler. It was not a run, only a simple block; but it was the first play of the match, and so quite enough to loosen the tongues of all the small boys, who yelled, and howled, and cheered as frantically as if a six had been run or a wicket taken. And the ice once broken, every ball and every hit were marked and applauded as if empires depended on them.

It was in the midst of this gradually rising excitement that Loman slipped quietly and unobserved from the scene, and betook himself to the errand on which we accompanied him in the preceding chapter.

The two Sixth men went quickly to work, and at the end of the second over had scored eight. Then Callonby, in stepping back to “draw” one of Wraysford’s balls, knocked down his wicket.

How the small boys yelled at this!

But the sight of Raleigh going in second soon silenced them.

“They mean hard work by sending in the captain now,” said Paul. “I don’t like that!”

“No more do I,” said Stephen. “He always knocks Oliver’s bowling about.”

“Oh, bother; is your brother bowling?” said Master Paul, quite unconscious of wounding any one’s feelings. “It’s a pity they’ve got no one better.”

Stephen coloured up at this, and wondered what made Paul such a horrid boy.

“Better look out for your eyes,” said Bramble, cheerily. “The captain always knocks up this way, over square-leg’s head.”

There was a general buzz of youngsters round the field, as the hero of the school walked up to the wicket, and coolly turned to face Oliver’s bowling.

The scorer in the tent hurriedly sharpened his pencil. The big fellows, who had been standing up to watch the opening overs, sat down on the grass and made themselves comfortable. Something was going to happen, evidently. The captain was in, and meant business.

Oliver gripped the ball hard in his hand, and walked back to the end of his run. “Play!” cried the umpire, and amid dead silence the ball shot from the bowler’s hand.

Next moment there rose a shout loud enough to deafen all Saint Dominic’s. The ball was flying fifty feet up in the air, and Raleigh was slowly walking, bat in hand, back to the tent he had only a moment ago quitted!

The captain had been clean bowled, first ball!

Who shall describe the excitement, the yelling, the cheering, the consternation that followed? Paul got up and danced a hornpipe on the bench; Bramble kicked the boy nearest to him. “Well bowled, sir!” shouted some. “Hard lines!” screamed others. “Hurrah for the Fifth!”

“You’ll beat them yet, Sixth!” such were a few of the shouts audible above the general clamour.

As for Stephen, he was wild with joy. He was a staunch partisan of the Fifth in any case, but that was nothing to the fact that it was his brother, his own brother, and nobody else, who had bowled that eventful ball, and who was at that moment the hero of Saint Dominic’s. Stephen felt as proud and elated as if he had bowled the ball himself, and could afford to be absolutely patronising to those around him, on the head of his achievement.

“That wasn’t a bad ball of Oliver’s,” he said to Paul. “He can bowl very well when he tries.”

“It was a beastly fluke!” roared Bramble, determined to see no merit in the exploit.

“Shut up and don’t make a row,” said Stephen, with a bland smile of forgiveness.

Bramble promised his adversary to shut him up, and after a little more discussion and altercation and jubilation, the excitement subsided, and another man went in.

All this while the Fifth were in ecstasies. They controlled their feelings, however, contenting themselves with clapping Oliver on the back till he was nearly dead, and speculating on the chances of beating their adversaries in a single innings.

But they had not won the match yet.

Winter was next man in, and he and Wren fell to work very speedily in a decidedly business-like way. No big hits were made, but the score crawled up by ones and twos steadily, and the longer they were at it the steadier they played. Loud cheers announced the posting of thirty on the signal-board, but still the score went on. Now it was a slip, now a bye, now a quiet cut.

“Bravo! well played!” cried Raleigh, and his men frequently. The captain, by the way, was in excellent spirits, despite his misfortune.

Thirty-five, forty! The Fifth began to look hot and puzzled. The batsmen were evidently far too much at home with the bowling. A change must be made, even though it be to put on only a second-rate bowler.

Tom Senior was put on. He was nothing like as good a bowler as either Wraysford, or Oliver, or Ricketts. He bowled a very ordinary slow lob, without either twist or shoot, and was usually knocked about plentifully; and this appeared likely to be his fate now, for Wren got hold of his first ball, and knocked it right over into the scorer’s tent for five. The Fifth groaned, and could have torn the wretched Tom to pieces. But the next ball was more lucky; Winter hit it, indeed, but he hit it up, sky-high, over the bowler’s head, and before it reached the ground Bullinger was safe underneath it. It was with a sigh of relief that the Fifth saw this awkward partnership broken up. The score was at forty-eight for three wickets; quite enough too!

After this the innings progressed more evenly. Men came in and went out more as usual, each contributing his three or four, and one or two their ten or twelve. Among the latter was Baynes, who, at the last moment, it will be remembered, had been put into the eleven to replace Loman. By careful play he managed to put together ten, greatly to his own delight, and not a little to the surprise of his friends.

In due time the last wicket of the Sixth fell, to a total of eighty-four runs.

The small boys on the bench had had leisure to abate their ardour by this time. Bramble had recovered his spirits, and Paul and Stephen looked a little blue as they saw the total signalled.

“Eighty-four’s a lot,” said Stephen.

Paul nodded glumly.

“Ya, ha! How do you like it, Guinea-pigs?” jeered Bramble. “I hope you’ll get half as much. I knew how it would be.”

The two friends listened to these taunts in silent sorrow, and wished the next innings would begin.

It did presently, and not very brilliantly either. The Fifth only managed to score fifty-one, and to this total Wraysford was the only player who made anything like good scoring. Oliver got out for six, Ricketts for nine, and Tom Senior and Braddy both for a “duck’s egg.” Altogether it was a meagre performance, and things looked very gloomy for the Fifth when, for a second time, their adversaries took the wickets.

Things never turn out at cricket as one expects, however, and the second innings of the Sixth was no exception to the rule. They only made thirty-six runs. Stephen and Paul were hoarse with yelling, as first one wicket, then another, went down for scarcely a run. Raleigh and Baynes seemed the only two who could stand up at all to the bowling of Oliver and Wraysford, but even their efforts could not keep the wickets up for long.

Every one saw now that the final innings would be a desperate struggle. The Fifth wanted sixty-nine to be equal and seventy to win, and the question was, Would they do it in time?

Stephen and his confederate felt the weight of this question so oppressive that they left the irritating company of Mr. Bramble, and walked off and joined themselves to a group of Fourth Form fellows, who were watching the match with sulky interest, evidently sore that they had none of their men in the School Eleven.

“They’ll never do it, and serve them right!” said one. “Why didn’t they put Mansfield in the eleven, or Banks? They’re far more use than Fisher or Braddy.”

“For all that, it’ll be a sell if the Sixth lick,” said another.

“I wouldn’t much care. If we are going to be sat upon by those Fifth snobs every time an eleven is made up, it’s quite time we did go in with the Sixth.”

“Jolly for the Sixth!” retorted the other; whereupon Stephen laughed, and had his ears boxed for being cheeky. The Fourth Senior could not stand “cheek.”

But Saint Dominic’s generally was “sweet” on the Fifth, and hoped they would win. When, therefore, Tom Senior and Bullinger went in first and began to score there was great rejoicing.

But the Fourth Form fellows, among whom Stephen now was, refused to cheer for any one; criticism was more in their line.

“Did you ever see a fellow hit across wickets more horribly than Senior?” said one.

“Just look at that!” cried another. “That Bullinger’s a downright muff not to get that last ball to leg! I could have got it easily.”

“Well, with that bowling, it’s a disgrace if they don’t score; that’s all I can say,” remarked a third.

And so these Fourth Form grandees went on, much to Stephen’s wrath, who, when Oliver went in, removed somewhere else, so as to be out of ear-shot of any offensive remarks.

Oliver, however, played so well that even the Fourth Form critics could hardly run him down. He survived all the other wickets of his side, and, though not making a brilliant score, did what was almost as useful—played steadily, and gradually demoralised the bowling of the enemy.

As the game went on the excitement increased rapidly; and when at length the ninth wicket went down for sixty-one, and the last man in appeared, with nine to win, the eagerness on both sides scarcely knew bounds. Every ball, every piece of fielding, was cheered by one side, and every hit and every piece of play was as vehemently cheered by the other. If Raleigh and Wren had been nervous bowlers, they would undoubtedly have been disconcerted by the dead silence, followed by terrific applause, amid which every ball—even a wide—was delivered. But happily they were not.

It was at this critical juncture that Loman reappeared on the scene, much consoled to have the interview with Cripps over, and quite ready now to hear every one lament his absence from the match.

The last man in was Webster, a small Fifth boy, who in the last innings had signalised himself by making a duck’s egg. The Fifth scarcely dared hope he would stay in long enough for the nine runs required to be made, and looked on now almost pale with anxiety.

“Now,” said Pembury, near whom Loman, as well as our two Guinea-pigs, found themselves, “it all depends on Oliver, and I back Oliver to do it, don’t you, Loamy?”

Loman, who since the last Dominican had not been on speaking terms with Pembury, did not vouchsafe a reply.

“I do!” said Stephen, boldly.

“Do you, really?” replied Pembury, looking round at the boy. “Perhaps you back yourself to talk when you’re not spoken to, eh, Mr. Greenhorn?”

“Bravo! bravo! Well run, sir! Bravo, Fifth!” was the cry as Oliver, following up the first ball of the over, pilfered a bye from the long-stop.

“Didn’t I tell you!” exclaimed Pembury, delighted; “he’ll save us; he’s got down to that end on purpose to take the bowling. Do you twig, Loamy? And he’ll stick to that end till the last ball of the over, and then he’ll run an odd number, and get up to the other end. Do you comprehend?”

“You seem to know all about it,” growled Loman, who saw the force of Pembury’s observations, but greatly disliked it all the same.

“Do I, really?” replied the lame boy; “how odd that is, now—particularly without a crib!”

Loman was fast losing patience—a fact which seemed to have anything but a damping effect on the editor of the Dominican. But another hit for two by Oliver created a momentary diversion. It was quite clear that Pembury’s version of Oliver’s tactics was a correct one. He could easily have run three, but preferred to sacrifice a run rather than leave the incompetent and flurried Webster to face the bowling.

“Six to win!” cried Stephen; “I’m certain Oliver will do it!”

“Yes, Oliver was always a plodding old blockhead!” drily observed Pembury, who seemed to enjoy the small boy’s indignation whenever any one spoke disrespectfully of his big brother.

“He’s not a blockhead!” retorted Stephen, fiercely.

“Go it! Come and kick my legs, young ’un; there’s no one near but Loamy, and he can’t hurt.”

“Look here, you lame little wretch!” exclaimed Loman, in a passion; “if I have any more of your impudence I’ll box your ears!”

“I thought your wrist was sprained?” artlessly observed Pembury. “Here, young Paul, let’s get behind you, there’s a good fellow, I am in such a funk!”

Whether Loman would have carried out his threat or not is doubtful, but at that moment a terrific shout greeted another hit by Oliver—the best he had made during the match—for which he ran four. One to tie, two to win! will they do it?

It was a critical moment for Saint Dominic’s. Had the two batsmen been playing for their lives they could not have been more anxiously watched; even Pembury became silent.

And now the last ball of the over is bowled in dead silence. Onlookers can even hear the whizz with which it leaves Wren’s hand.

It is almost wide, but Oliver steps out to it and just touches it. Webster is half across the wickets already—ready for a bye. Oliver calls to him to come on, and runs. It is a desperate shave—too desperate for good play. But who cares for that when that run has pulled the two sides level, and when, best of all, Oliver has got up to the proper end for the next over?

Equal! What a shout greets the announcement! But it dies away suddenly, and a new anxious silence ensues. The game is saved, but not won; another run is wanted.

No one says a word, but the Fifth everywhere look on with a confidence which is far more eloquent than words.

Raleigh is the bowler from the lower end, and the Sixth send out their hearts to him. He may save them yet!

He runs, in his usual unconcerned manner, up to the wicket and delivers the ball. It is one which there is but one way of playing—among the slips.

Oliver understands it evidently, and, to the joy of the Fifth, plays it. But why does their cheer drop suddenly, and why in a moment is it drowned, over and over and over again, by the cheers of the Sixth and their partisans, as the crowd suddenly breaks into the field, and the ball shoots high up in the air?

A catch! Baynes, the odd man, had missed a chance a few overs back from standing too deep. This time he had crept in close, and saved the Sixth by one of the neatest low-catches that had ever been seen in a Dominican match.


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The Fifth Form at St. Dominic's/Chapter XV

“I tell you what, Wray,” said Oliver one evening about a week after the match, “I heartily wish this term was over.”

“Why, that’s just what I heard your young brother say. He is going to learn the bicycle, he says, in the holidays.”

“Oh, it’s not the holidays I want,” said Oliver. “But somehow things have gone all wrong. I’ve been off my luck completely this term.”

“Off your luck! You great discontented, ungrateful bear. Haven’t you got the English prize? Aren’t you in the School Eleven? and didn’t you make top score in the match with the Sixth last Saturday? Whatever do you mean by ‘off your luck’?”

“Oh, it’s not that, you know,” said Oliver, pulling a quill pen to bits. “What I mean is—oh, bother!—a fellow can’t explain it.”

“So it seems,” laughed Wraysford; “but I wish a fellow could, for I’ve not a notion what you’re driving at.”

“Well, I mean I’m not doing much good. There’s that young brother of mine, for instance. What good have I been to him? There have I let him go and do just what he likes, and not looked after him a bit ever since he came here.”

“And I wager he’s got on all the better for not being tied up to your apron strings. He’s a fine honest little chap, is young Greenfield.”

“Oh, I dare say; but somehow I don’t seem to know as much of him now as I used to do before he came here.”

“That’s Loman’s fault, I bet you anything,” exclaimed Wraysford. “I’m sure he won’t do the kid any good. But Rastle was saying only yesterday how well Stephen was getting on in class.”

“Was he? It’s little thanks to me if he is,” said Oliver, gloomily.

“And what else have you got to grumble about?” asked his friend.

“Why, you know how I’m out with the Fifth over that affair with Loman. They all set me down as a coward, and I’m not that.”

“Of course you aren’t,” warmly replied the other. “But, Noll, you told me a little while ago you didn’t care a snap what they thought.”

“No more I do, in a way. But it’s very uncomfortable.”

“Why don’t you tell them straight out why you didn’t let out at Loman? They are sure to respect your motive.”

“Yes, and set me down as posing as a martyr or a saint! No! I’d sooner pass as a coward than set up as a saint when I’m not one. Why, Wray, if you’ll believe me, I’ve been a worse Christian since I began to try to be one, than I ever was before. I’m for ever losing my temper, and—”

“Shut up that tune, now,” interposed Wraysford, hurriedly. “If you are beginning at that again, I’ll go. As if you didn’t know you were the best fellow in the school!”

“I’m not the best, or anything like,” said Oliver, warmly; “I hate your saying so—I wish almost I had never told you anything about it.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Wraysford, walking to the window and looking out. “Ever since you told me of it, I’ve been trying myself in a mild way to go straight. But it’s desperate hard work.”

“Desperate hard work even if you try in more than a mild way,” said Oliver.

Both were silent for a little, and then Oliver, hurriedly changing the subject, said—

“And then, to proceed with my growl, I’m certain to come a howler over the Nightingale.”

Wraysford turned from the window with a laugh.

“I suppose you expect me to sympathise with you about that, eh? The bigger the howler the better for me! I only wish you were a true prophet, Noll, in that particular.”

“Why, of course you’ll beat me—and if you don’t Loman will. I hear he’s grinding away like nuts.”

“Is he, though?” said Wraysford.

“Yes, and he’s going to get a ‘coach’ in the holidays too.”

“More likely a dog-cart. Anyhow, I dare say he will run us close. But he’s such a shifty fellow, there’s no knowing whether he will stay out.”

Just at that moment a terrific row came up from below.

“Whatever’s up down there?”

“Only the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles. By the way,” said Wraysford, “they’ve got a grand ‘supper,’ as they call it, on to-night to celebrate their cricket match. Suppose we go and see the fun?”

“All right!” said Oliver. “Who won the match?”

“Why, what a question! Do you suppose a match between Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles ever came to an end? They had a free fight at the end of the first innings. The Tadpole umpire gave one of his own men ‘not out’ when he hit his wicket, and they made a personal question of it, and fell out. Your young brother, I hear, greatly distinguished himself in the argument.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem to interfere with their spirits now, to judge of the row they are making. Just listen!”

By this time they had reached the door of the Fourth Junior room, whence proceeded a noise such as one often hears in a certain popular department of the Zoological Gardens. Amid the tumult and hubbub the two friends had not much difficulty in slipping in unobserved and seating themselves comfortably in an obscure corner of the festive apartment, behind a pyramid of piled-up chairs and forms.

The Junior “cricket feast” was an institution in Saint Dominic’s, and was an occasion when any one who had nerves to be excruciated or ear-drums to be broken took care to keep out of the way. In place of the usual desks and forms, a long table ran down the room, round which some fifty or sixty urchins sat, regaling themselves with what was left of a vast spread of plum-cake, buns, and ginger-beer. How these banquets were provided was always a mystery to outsiders. Some said a levy of threepence a head was made; others, that every boy was bound in honour to contribute something eatable to the feast; and others averred that every boy had to bring his own bag and bottle, and no more. Be that as it might, the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles at present assembled looked uncommonly tight about the jackets after it all, and not one had the appearance of actual starvation written on his lineaments.

The animal part of the feast, however, was now over, and the intellectual was beginning. The tremendous noise which had brought Oliver and Wraysford on to the scene had indeed been but the applause which followed the chairman’s opening song—a musical effort which was imperatively encored by a large and enthusiastic audience.

The chairman, by the way, was no other than our friend Bramble, who by reason of seniority—he had been two years in the Fourth Junior, and showed no signs of rising higher all his life—claimed to preside on all such occasions. He sat up at the top end in stately glory, higher than the rest by the thickness of a Liddell and Scott, which was placed on his chair to lift him up to the required elevation, blushingly receiving the applause with which his song was greeted, and modestly volunteering to sing it again if the fellows liked.

The fellows did like. Mr. Bramble mounted once more on to the seat of his chair, and saying, “Look out for the chorus!” began one of the time-honoured Dominican cricket songs. It consisted of about twelve verses altogether, but three will be quite enough for the reader. “There was a little lad, (Well bowled!) And a little bat he had; (Well bowled!) He skipped up to the wicket, And thought he’d play some cricket, But he didn’t, for he was— Well bowled! “He thought he’d make a score (So bold), And lead off with a four (So bold); So he walked out to a twister, But somehow sort of missed her, And she bailed him, for he was Too bold. “Now all ye little boys (So bold), Who like to make a noise (So bold), Take warning by young Walker, Keep your bat down to a yorker, Or, don’t you see? you’ll be— Well bowled!” The virtue of the pathetic ballad was in the chorus, which was usually not sung, but spoken, and so presented a noble opportunity for variety of tone and expression, which was greedily seized upon by the riotous young gentlemen into whose mouths it was entrusted. By the time the sad adventures of Master Walker had been rehearsed in all their twelve verses, the meeting was so hoarse that to the two elder boys it seemed as if the proceedings must necessarily come abruptly to a close for want of voice.

But no! If the meeting was for the moment incapable of song, speech was yet possible, and behold there arose Master Paul in his place to propose a toast.

Now Master Paul was a Guinea-pig, and accounted a mighty man in his tribe. Any one might have supposed that the purpose for which he had now risen was to propose in complimentary terms the health of his gallant opponents the Tadpoles. This, however, was far from his intention. His modesty had another theme. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. There were no ladies present, but that didn’t matter. Tremendous cheers greeted this opening. “You all know me; I am one of yourselves.” Paul had borrowed this expression from the speech of a Radical orator, which had appeared recently in the papers. Every one knew it was borrowed, for he had asked about twenty of his friends during the last week whether that wouldn’t be “a showy lead-off for his cricket feast jaw?”

The quotation was, however, now greeted as vociferously as if it had been strictly original, and shouts of “So you are!”

“Bravo, Paul!” for a while drowned the orator’s voice. When silence was restored his eloquence took a new and unexpected departure. “Jemmy Welch, I’ll punch your head when we get outside, see if I don’t!” Jemmy Welch was a Guinea-pig who had just made a particularly good shot at the speaker’s nose with a piece of plum-cake. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I shall not detain you with a speech (loud cheers from all, and ‘Jolly good job!’ from Bramble). I shall go on speaking just as long as I choose, Bramble, so now! (Cheers.) I’ve as much right to speak as you have. (Applause.) You’re only a stuck-up duffer. (Terrific cheers, and a fight down at the end of the table.) I beg to drink the health of the Guinea-pigs. (Loud Guinea-pig cheers.) We licked the old Tadpoles in the match. (‘No you didn’t!’ ‘That’s a cram!’ and groans from the Tadpoles.) I say we did! Your umpire was a cheat—they always are! We beat you hollow, didn’t we, Stee Greenfield?”

“Yes, rather!” shouted Stephen, snatching a piece of cake away from a Tadpole and shying it to a Guinea-pig.

“That’s eight matches we’ve won,” proceeded Paul; “and—all right, Spicer! I saw you do it this time! See if I don’t pay you for it!” whereat the speaker hurriedly quitted his seat, and, amid howls and yells, proceeded to “pay out” Spicer.

Meanwhile, Stephen heard his name suddenly called upon for a song, an invitation he promptly obeyed. But as the clamour was at the time deafening, and the attention of the audience was wholly monopolised by the commercial transactions taking place between Paul and Spicer, the effect of the performance was somewhat lost. Oliver certainly did see his young brother mount up on the table, turn very red in the face, open his mouth and shut it, smile in one part, look sorrowful in another, and wave his hand above his head in another. But that was the only intimation he had of a musical performance proceeding. Words and tune were utterly inaudible by any one except the singer himself—even if he heard them.

This was getting monotonous, and the two visitors were thinking of withdrawing, when the door suddenly opened, and a dead silence prevailed. The new-comer was the dirtiest and most ferocious-looking of all the boys in the lower school, who rushed into the room breathless, and in what would have been a white heat had his face been clean enough to show it. “What do you think?” he gasped, catching hold of the back of a chair for support; “Tony Pembury’s kept me all this while brushing his clothes! I told him it was cricket feast, but he didn’t care! What do you think of that? Of course, you’ve finished all the grub; I knew you would!”

This last plaintive wail of disappointment was drowned in the clamour of execration which greeted the boy’s announcement. Lesser feuds were instantly forgotten in presence of this great insult. The most sacred traditions of Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles were being trampled upon by the tyrants of the upper school! Not even on cricket feast night was a fag to be let off fagging!

It was enough! The last straw breaks the camel’s back, and the young Dominicans had now reached the point of desperation.

It was long before silence enough could be restored, and then the redoubtable Spicer yelled out, “Let’s strike!”

The cry was taken up with yells of enthusiasm—“Strike! No more fagging!”

“Any boy who fags after this,” screamed Bramble, “will be cut dead! Those who promise hold up your hands—mind, it’s a promise!”

There was no mistaking the temper of the meeting, every hand in the room was held up.

“Mind now, no giving in!” cried Paul. “Let’s stick all together. Greenfield senior shall kill me before I do anything more for him!”

“Poor fellow!” whispered Oliver, laughing; “what a lot of martyrdoms he’ll have to put up with!”

“And Pembury shall kill me,” squealed the last comer, who had comforted himself with several crusts of plum-cakes and the dregs of about a dozen bottles of ginger-beer.

And every one protested their willingness to die in the good cause.

At this stage Oliver and Wraysford withdrew unobserved.

“I’m afraid we’ve been eavesdropping,” said Oliver. “Anyhow, I don’t mean to take advantage of what I’ve heard.”

“What a young ruffian your brother is!” said Wraysford; “he looked tremendously in earnest!”

“Yes, he always is. You’ll find he’ll keep his word far better than most of them.”

“If he does, I’m afraid Loman will make it unpleasant for him,” said Wraysford.

“Very likely.”

“Then you’ll have to interfere.”

“Why, what a bloodthirsty chap you are, Wray! You are longing for me to quarrel with Loman. I’ll wait till young Stephen asks me to.”

“Do you think he will? He’s a proud little chap.”

Oliver laughed. “It’ll serve him right if he does get a lesson. Did ever you see such a lot of young cannibals as those youngsters? Are you coming to have supper with me?”

The nine o’clock bell soon rang, and, as usual Oliver went to his door and shouted for Paul.

No Paul came.

He shouted again and again, but the fag did not appear. “They mean business,” he said. “What shall I do? Paul!”

This time there came a reply down the passage—“Sha’n’t come!”

“Ho, ho!” said Oliver; “this is serious; they are sticking to their strike with a vengeance! I suppose I must go and look for my fag, eh, Wray? Discipline must be maintained.”

So saying, Oliver stepped out into the passage and strolled off in the direction from which the rebel’s voice had proceeded. The passages were empty; only in the Fourth Junior room was there a sound of clamour.

Oliver went to the door; it was shut. He pushed; it was fortified. He kicked on it; a defiant howl greeted him from the inside. He called aloud on his fag; another “Sha’n’t come!” was his only answer.

It was getting past a joke, and Oliver’s temper was, as we have seen, not of the longest. He kicked again, angrily, and ordered Paul to appear.

The same answer was given, accompanied with the same yell, and Oliver’s temper went faster than ever. He forgot he was making himself ridiculous; he forgot he was only affording a triumph to those whom he desired to punish; he forgot the good resolutions which had held him back on a former occasion, and, giving way to sudden rage, kicked desperately at the door once more.

This time his forcible appeal had some effect. The lower panel of the door gave way before the blow and crashed inwards, leaving a breach large enough to admit a football.

It was an unlucky piece of success for Oliver, for next moment he felt his foot grabbed by half a dozen small hands within and held firmly, rendering him unable to stir from his ridiculous position. In vain he struggled and raged; he was a tight prisoner, at the mercy of his captors.

It was all he could do to stand on his one foot, clinging wildly to the handle of the door. In this dignified attitude Wraysford presently found his friend, and in such a state of passion and fury as he had never before seen him.

To rap the array of inky knuckles inside with a ruler, and so disengage the captive foot, was the work of a minute. Oliver stood for a moment facing the door and trembling with anger, but Wraysford, taking him gently by the arm, said, “Come along, old boy!”

There was something in his voice and look which brought a sudden flush into the pale face of the angry Oliver. Without a word, he turned from the door and accompanied his friend back to the study. There were no long talks, no lectures, no remorseful confessions that evening. The two talked perhaps less than usual, and when they did it was about ordinary school topics.

No reference was made either then or for a long while afterwards to the events of the evening. And yet Oliver and Wraysford, somehow, seemed more than ever drawn together, and to understand one another better after this than had ever been the case before.

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 one of the Brothers, over a grassy flat, timbered by tea-trees, and swamp oak. A little farther on I met a number of the women belonging to the tribe just mentioned, and soon after I encountered a party of the blacks themselves. They were very solicitous about the Port Macquarie "blackfellows," and made many inquiries as to what they were doing and where they were encamped, on which subjects I could give them no information. They were more importunate and greedy than the less civilized blacks beyond the MacLeay, who had not had so much intercourse with the whites, teasing me for tobacco, and asking for my handkerchief; so I soon rode away from them. The country now became less thickly wooded, and a few miles farther, on crossing a range crowned by a mass of naked pudding-stone rock, I saw, to the left, the extensive swamps to the north of the Manning called Jamaica plains, the intense verdure of which, formed a pleasing contrast to the more yellow-tinted green of the grassy forest hills. I now entered some extensive flats, covered with high grass, and timbered by large blue gum-trees and tea-trees, standing widely apart from each other. There were a great many creeks, and chains of deep water-holes here, which meandered among these flats without being enveloped in brush. The soil was very rich. This level tract extended to Major Innes' cattle station at Brinben, where I arrived at nightfall, being guided thither by the barking of the dogs, as I had ridden for some distance, to the left of the usual track to that station.


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 January 1755 fresh negotiations were opened with Fox, which this time proved successful, though the terms offered him were not so favourable as on the last occasion. Fox, having consented in future to act under Robinson, and to give the king's measures his active support in the House of Commons, was admitted to the cabinet, and his temporary alliance with Pitt was thereupon dissolved. Though Fox suffered in reputation by his desertion of Pitt and his subservience to Newcastle, he speedily gained his object, and before the year was out was leader of the House of Commons. Robinson, receiving a pension, was reappointed master of the great wardrobe, and Fox was appointed in his place secretary of state on 25 Nov. 1755. Thinking himself ill-used both by the king and Newcastle, and suspecting that the latter was intriguing to cast the loss of Minorca upon his shoulders, Fox obtained the king's permission to resign in October 1756. Newcastle's resignation soon followed. The king then sent for Fox and directed him to form an administration with Pitt, but the latter refused to act with him; and the Duke of Devonshire thereupon formed an administration with Pitt's help and without Fox. During the ministerial interregnum in 1757 Fox, at the request of the king, who was incensed at Newcastle's refusal to act with Pitt, consented to become chancellor of the exchequer, with Lord Waldegrave as first lord of the treasury. At the last moment, however, the king yielded to Newcastle, and Fox accepted the subordinate post of paymaster-general without a seat in the cabinet. In this office, which during the continuance of the war was probably the most lucrative one in the government, Fox contented himself with amassing a large fortune, and took but little part in the debates. Upon Grenville's resignation of the seals of secretary of state in October 1762, Fox, with considerable reluctance, once more accepted the leadership of the House of Commons. Refusing to become secretary of state on the ground of bad health, he was admitted to Bute's cabinet, and while retaining the post of paymaster-general accepted the sinecure office of writer of the tallies and clerk of the pells in Ireland. Fox had assured the king that parliament should approve of the peace by large majorities, and by the employment of the grossest bribery and intimidation he kept his word. Having broken with all his old political friends, he turned upon them with relentless fury. ‘Strip the Duke of Newcastle of his three lieutenancies immediately,’ wrote Fox to Bute, in November 1762; ‘I'll answer for the good effect of it, and then go on to the general rout, but let this beginning be made immediately.’ In the following month he wrote again to Bute in the same strain: ‘The impertinence of our conquered enemies last night was great, but will not continue so if his majesty shows no lenity. But, my lord, with regard to their numerous dependents in crown employments, it behoves your lordship in particular to leave none of them. … And I don't care how much I am hated if I can say to myself, I did his majesty such honest and essential service’ (Life of the Earl of Shelburne, i. 179–80). The peace of Paris was signed in 1763, and Fox having accomplished his task took but little further trouble about the business of the ministry in the House of Commons. Ill supported by his colleagues and hated on all sides, Fox became anxious to retire from the house, and, claiming his reward for his apostasy, was created Baron Holland of Foxley, Wiltshire, on 16 April 1763. After a long altercation with Bute and Shelburne, which is fully recorded in the ‘Life’ of the latter (i. 199–229), Fox managed to retain the post of paymaster. Shelburne, who had acted as Bute's agent in the negotiations with Fox in the previous year, was denounced by him as ‘a perfidious and infamous liar.’ But the familiar tradition that Bute attempted to justify Shelburne's conduct by telling Fox that the whole affair was a ‘pious fraud,’ and that Fox replied, ‘I can see the fraud plainly enough, but where is the piety?’ is stated by Lord Edmond Fitzmaurice to be ‘valueless for the purposes of history’ (ib. p. 228). On leaving the House of Commons Fox practically retired from public life, and it does not appear that he took any part in the debates of the upper house. In May 1765 he was forced to resign the post of paymaster-general, which was conferred upon Charles Townshend (Cal. of Home Office Papers, 1760–5, p. 553). On Grenville's fall he made some advances towards a reconciliation with his old friends, which were scornfully rejected by Rockingham. In 1769 the lord mayor presented the king with a petition from the livery of the city of London against his ministers, in which Fox was referred to as ‘the public defaulter of unaccounted millions’ (Annual Reg. 1769, p. 202). Proceedings against Fox had been actually commenced in the court of exchequer, but had been stayed by a warrant from the crown. After some correspondence with Beckford, Fox published a statement clearly proving that the delay which had occurred in making up the accounts of his office was neither illegal nor unusual in those days. It has, however,


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 I was hospitably entertained here by the overseer, whose wife soon placed before me a dish of eggs and bacon, to which I did full justice after my day's ride whilst my horse was recruited with a feed of maize.

April 21st.—It rained hard this morning, when I started after breakfast up the valley of the Manning river. On leaving Brinben I passed over several miles of good grassy undulating forest country, of park-like aspect, and rich soil, and watered by several fine brooks, the largest of which was the Dingo river, a tributary stream of some importance flowing into the Manning, I now crossed some fertile grassy hills, very lightly wooded, and rode past several sheep-stations. Having, at length, entered the brush of the Manning, I crossed over a ford near the Gloucester river, which joins it on the south side. The scenery was very beautiful here. The surrounding ranges of hills were all either very lightly wooded and grassy, or else covered over with brush timber and entangled vegetation. Most of the park-like hills rose in round conical summits, and were probably composed of clay slate; whilst one heavily wooded range, on the south bank of the river, was crowned by huge masses of rock, overgrown with creepers, and resembling the ivy-clothed battlements of some ancient fortress. Some sawyers near here kindly invited me into their hut to take some refreshment; the frying-pan was immediately put in requisition, and they soon placed before me


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 been asserted that the interest on the balances which were outstanding when he left the office brought him no less than a quarter of a million pounds. He tried several times to obtain an earldom, but isolated from all parties in the state, and out of favour at court, he asked for it in vain. Disappointed in ambition and broken down in health, he divided most of his time in travelling on the continent, and in constructing at Kingsgate, near the North Foreland, a fantastic habitation purporting ‘to represent Tully's Formian Villa.’ He died at Holland House, near Kensington, on 1 July 1774, in the sixty-ninth year of his age, and was buried at Farley in Wiltshire. During Fox's last illness George Selwyn called at Holland House and left his card. Glancing at it, and remembering his old friend's peculiar taste, Fox humorously said: ‘If Mr. Selwyn calls again show him up: if I am alive I shall be delighted to see him; and if I am dead he would like to see me.’ Fox married, on 2 May 1744, Lady Georgiana Caroline Lennox, eldest daughter of Charles, second duke of Richmond. The marriage was secretly solemnised at the house of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, the lady's parents having refused their consent. The stir which this wedding made in the town is amusingly recorded in ‘Walpole's Letters’ (i. 303), and it was not until after some years that the duke and duchess became reconciled to their daughter. The match was a peculiarly happy one, and the correspondence between Fox and his wife is a remarkable record of conjugal felicity. Lady Caroline was created Baroness Holland of Holland, Lincolnshire, in the peerage of Great Britain, on 6 May 1762. She survived her husband only a few weeks, and died on 24 July 1774. They had four sons, viz. Stephen, Henry, Charles James [q. v.], and Henry Edward [q. v.] Stephen succeeded to the two baronies of Holland, and died 26 Nov. 1774. Henry died an infant. The last Lady Holland was the widow of Henry Fox's great grandson, Henry Edward, fourth baron Holland, upon whose death in 1859 the titles became extinct. Fox was a man of many talents, of indomitable courage and extraordinary activity. Gifted with great sagacity and shrewdness, he was confident in manner and decisive in action. Though not a great orator, he was a formidable debater. ‘His best speeches,’ says Lord Waldegrave, ‘are neither long nor premeditated, quick and concise replication is his peculiar excellence’ (Memoirs, p. 25). Devoid of principle, and regardless of the good opinion of his fellow-men, he cared more for money than for power. Chesterfield declares that ‘he had not the least notion of, or regard for, the public good or the constitution, but despised those cares as the objects of narrow minds, or the pretences of interested ones’ (Letters, ii. 467). Though at one time the rival of Pitt, Fox never rose above the rank of a political adventurer. His jovial manners and many social qualities gave him much influence in society, but his unscrupulous conduct during the five months which he spent in Bute's cabinet made him the best hated minister in the country. Churchill in his ‘Epistle to William Hogarth,’ Gray in his ‘Stanzas suggested by a View of the Seat and Ruins at Kingsgate in Kent, 1766,’ Mason in his ‘Heroic Epistle,’ as well as the political writers of the day, all bear witness to his great unpopularity. In appearance he was unprepossessing, his figure was heavy, and his countenance dark and lowering. Portraits of him by Hogarth and Reynolds are preserved at Holland House, where there are also several portraits of his wife, and a small collection of his poems. The authorship of a short-lived periodical entitled ‘The Spendthrift,’ which commenced on 29 March 1766, and lasted through twenty weekly numbers, has been attributed to him. On the first page of the copy of ‘The Spendthrift’ in the British Museum is the following manuscript note: ‘These papers are supposed to have been written by Lord Holland. Mr. Nichols, who printed them, informs me that the copy always came from that nobleman's house.—Ic. Reed.’ Holland House was bought by Fox in 1767, having previously rented it since 1749.

[Coxe's Memoirs of Horatio, Lord Walpole (1802); Coxe's Memoirs of the Pelham Administration (1829); The Grenville Papers (1852); Diary of the late George Bubb Dodington (1784); Chatham's Correspondence (1838–40); Correspondence of John, fourth Duke of Bedford (1842–6); Memoirs from 1754 to 1758, by James, Earl Waldegrave (1821); Walpole's Memoirs of the Reign of George II (1847); Walpole's Memoirs of the Reign of George III (1845); Walpole's Letters (ed. Cunningham); Fitzmaurice's Life of the Earl of Shelburne (1875), vol. i.; Lecky's Hist. of England, vols. i. ii. iii.; Lord Mahon's Hist. of England (1858), vols. iii. iv. v.; Trevelyan's Early Life of Charles James Fox (1881); Macaulay's Essays (1885), pp. 301–6, 309, 762–4, 767; Jesse's George Selwyn and his Contemporaries (1844); Sir Edward Creasy's Memoirs of Eminent Etonians (1876), 308–11; The Fox Unkennelled, or the Paymaster's Accounts Laid Open (1769); Princess Mary Liechtenstein's Holland House (1874); Chester's Westminster Abbey Registers (1876), pp. 262, 473; Collins's Peerage (1812), iv. 538, vii. 308–10; Foster's Peerage (1883), p.


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Rh Wie die menschliche Psyche nun einmal ist, wird niemand es ändern können, dass man die Fehler anderer und besonders die Fehler seiner Gegner schneller und besser erfasst, als die eigenen Oder die eines Freundes. Man kann deshalb fast sagen, dass die wissenschaftliche Richtung, die keine Gegner mehr hat, sich in grosser Gefahr befindet, und wer ein aufrichtiges wissenschaftliches Strehen hat, wird deshalb über das Bestehen einer Gegnerschaft direkt froh sein. Ich selbst muss bekennen, dass ich, einen Fall ausgenommen, stets aus der Kritik meiner Gegner mehr Nutzen gezogen habe als aus der meiner Freunde. Ich fürchte, dass hier auch Andrew Lang dem allgemeinen menschlichen Schicksal nicht entgangen ist, und dass sein Wohlwollen gegen mich der Kritik, die er an meiner "Origine de l'Idée de Dieu" übte, viel von ihrer Eindringlichkeit und damit natürlich auch von ihrer Nützlichkeit genommen hat.

Dagegen war Andrew Lang stets ein schönes Vorbild in seiner unentwegten Loyalität auch gegen seine Gegner; die Art und Weise, wie er seine Kontroverse mit Howitt über den Gang der Entwicklung der australischen Soziologie führte, ist eines von den vielen Beispielen dafür. Und hier, glaube ich, ist ihm englische Art und Sitte zu Hülfe gekommen. "I doubt if he has ever played a fair game in cricket or football," schrieb er mir einmal über jemand, bei dem es ihm schwer wurde, einen allseitig guten Willen anzunehmen. Er selbst hielt stets darauf "to play a fair game".

So steht Andrew Lang vor uns, als einer, der drei ethnologische Perioden, die philologische, die anthropologische und die kulturhistorische, erlebt hat. Allen mit der feinfühligen Sensibilität wie mit der natürlichen Loyalität seines Wesens sich hingebend, aber doch von keiner sich blind beherrschen lassend, konnte er deshalb ein Pfadfinder für andere sein, wenn er selbst auch nicht in das gelobte Land der vollen Wahrheit eingehen konnte. Aber er strebte der Wahrheit nach, und wo er sie gefunden zu haben glaubte, da war er ihr ein wackerer Ritter Bayard sans peur et sans reproche.


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 a huge plateful of fried pork, a damper as large as a blackfellow's shield, a kettle-full of tea saturated with sugar, and a pot of milk. My horse was also indebted to their hospitality, as he got several cobs of corn. There were a number of blacks here, and I noticed, among the children, several who were of a brown colour, like the South Sea islanders, being the offspring of white men. The wilder tribes of Australian natives, however, invariably put to death the children resulting from the intercourse between their women and the stockmen at out-stations, especially if they are males.

On the other side of the Manning I entered the county of Gloucester, in which the Australian Agricultural Company possess a portion of their grant. I now rode to the right of the rocky range before mentioned, tracing up the valley of a fine limpid brook, which flowed in a bed of dark-coloured rock. As I advanced, the country became rather hilly, but very grassy; the ranges were lightly wooded by blue gum and stringy bark, whilst the apple-tree, (Angophora lanceolata), predominated in the valleys and on the lower slopes of the hills. The country in this neighbourhood would be very good for sheep, if the grass were not allowed to grow too long and too old, for when once the Australian grass becomes dry, the sheep will never eat it. An intelligent overseer of a sheep-station in Australia, ought therefore so to regulate the grass on his run, by feeding it down, and burning it off in small


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Notes and papers relating to Dublin University Zoological Association

Notes and papers relating to Dublin University Zoological Association

Letter to E. P. Wright mentioning Rev. Aiken Irvine

Sertularia Marguretta. Howth. A. H. H.; Theuaria articulata. Howth, A. H. H.;Plumaria Catharina [Ag. Cath.]. Howth and Lambay. A. H. H. Laomedea geniculata. Very common. Killiney. A. H. H.; L. gelatinosa. Blackrock. A. H. H.; Campanularia volubilis [Capsularia volubilis]. Not common. A. H. H. Actinia Manthus. Howth and Lambay. A. H. H. I. TUBILIPORINA. Tubilipora lobulata [Obelia lobulata]. A. H. H.;Crisia aculeata. Kingstown Harbour, East Pier, A. H. H.
 * ANTHOZOA HYDROIDA.
 * FAMILY—SERTULARIDAE
 * FAMILY—CAMPANULARIADAE.
 * FAMILY—ACTINIADAE.
 * POLYZOA INFUNDIBULATA.
 * FAMILY—TUBILIPORIDAE

"In concluding the catalogue [A. R. Hogan. 1855. Catalogue of the Irish Microlepidoptera. Natural History Review 2: 109-115 ] ,I have with pleasure to acknowledge that all the records hitherto made by collectors of former days, have been rendered available to me through the kindness of Mr. Haliday; and that, for information on the food of the larvae, &c., as well as notes of additional species, I am indebted to Mr. R. Shield, whose untiring industry promises to do much for the advancement of this department of science; also to Rev. J. Greene, J. Grainger, and E. P. Wright, Esqrs. My especial thanks are due to H. T. Stainton, Esq., for his assistance in disentangling the synonymic names of species. My own contributions have been but few, the only one of any importance being Elachista triseriatella, of which a figure, drawn by Mr. Haliday (see plate iv., fig. 1), accompanies this paper, it not having been before figured in any scientific work. It has been my endeavour, as far as possible, to give names of localities rather than of captors, as being more interesting to the public; of some of the less recently recorded species, however, I have been unable to obtain any other information than the ipse dixit of the captor. At the same time, I can assure any English reader into whose hands this may fall,that nothing is recorded, without an appended query, which I have the least reason to doubt".

Mr. Haliday showed several Hemipterous insects, with parasites attached, of a compressed spheroidal or somewhat reniform figure, embossed with bands of zig-zag sculpture, and affixed by one of the lobes of the sinus, which he had observed to terminate in connivent valves, somewhat like the operculum of a Bulanus. These bodies are usually attached to the under side, between the head and prothorax of the insect, if of moderate size, as the species of Evacanthus, one of which, the craticula of Curtis, common among rushes, is particularly infested by them. To smaller insects, as Typhlocyba, Delphax, &c., they are commonly affixed between the segments of the abdomen, under the elytra and wings in winged individuals. They appear to grow in size, and the larger ones have been observed to split open along the convex face, disclosing a naked apod grub, with horny head, furnished with jaws and jointed appendages. He had not succeeded in tracing their further development; but some observations made on their structure, led him to conjecture that they might be larvae of Diptera, especially the circumstance that the four malpighian vessels were united, two and two, into a pair of common ducts before the insertion. Bohemann, however, who had observed these parasites on Typhlocyba, and found that the grub enclosed itself in a cocoon, is of opinion that they are the larvae of some of the Chalcidae or Proctotrupidae.* The matter was now brought before the Association, in the hope, that some of the members might be more successful in determining the question by direct observation.

He showed also some Coleoptera and Diptera taken in Ireland. Two of these, Heterothops dissimilis and Agathidium marginatum, had been found before in other parts of the country, but were additions to the Coleopterous fauna of the Dublin district, lately taken at Portmarnock. Also Pelina aenescens, new to the British Fauna, taken at Lough Bray on the 14th of the last month, when a number of the members of the Association visited the spot for the sake of collecting. This fly, belonging to the group Ephydrini of the family Muscidae, was first observed in Lapland, but has since been found in other parts of Sweden. Of this group, 65 British species were enumerated in a brief sketch inserted in the "Annals of Natural History" in 1839. An excellent Monograph of the Swedish species has been given by Stenhammar in the volume of the " Transactions of the Royal Swedish Academy," published in 1844; and by the help of this and of Zetterstedt's "Diptera Scandinavise" some British species had been since discriminated, and the number increased by six; but of these only two were new discoveries the fly in question and another which was also before the meeting, Discomyza cimiciformis.-f At a former meeting of the Association Dr. Kinahan had recorded an interesting observation as to the economy of Discomyza incurva, the only species of the genus hitherto characterized. Themsecond species is not, however, a new discovery, as Mr. Haliday had received, in 1847, specimens, named as above, from Mr. Curtis, who first found it in June, 1842, near Quar Abbey (Isle of Wight) and in a marsh at Hyde. Last September it was met with, not very scarce, on the banks of the creek of Owenbeg river, Cork Harbour, chiefly on Seta maritima. Like the other species, it takes long skips, probably with the help of the wings, but does not use them for a sustained flight. On the shore of the same creek, within a space of a few yards square, the following maritime Coleoptera occurred, besides others of less note: Bradycellus pubescens, Pogonus chalceus, Bembidium laterale, Aepys robinii, Micralymma marinum (Stroem), Heterocerus marshami. It was remarkable that of this list only the first was known to Mr. Clear as a native of the County Cork. Mr. Haliday had never before found all of them associated. The Aepys, which occurred also near Passage, appears to be confined to those parts of the coast, below high-water mark, where clay comes to the surface. Specimens from Scotland of Aepys robinii, the gift of Mr. Javet, were shown, also Aepys marinus from Strangford. Mr. Haliday was disposed to doubt the importance of the distinctions assigned to the two alleged species. The difference in the armour of the feet led him to suspect that a sexualdistinction may have been treated as specific. He quoted the remarks under Ptilium pallidum in the Faune Francaise of Fairmaire and Laboulbene "Les angles posterieurs du corselet varient un peu, et il est facile, avec de la bonne volonte, de trouver des angles tres obtus et des angles presque droits; mais, selon nous, ces deux termes sont fort exageres." He had found at Blarney Lake, last summer, some specimens of Phytobius velatus (shown), of which he possessed before but one taken at Holywood (Down). These were partly taken out of the water, partly swept off the stems of Equisetum, when the sun was shining strong.Beck, the first discoverer of this species, has remarked that it swims fast and dives. The peculiar structure of the legs was shown, "natatorial," as Scbonherr calls them, being thinly furnished with long hairs, the tarsi without the broad felt-like sole usual in this family, and with scarcely any enlargement or notch of the penultimate joint, but with long claws like those of Elmis, &c., by which it clings to the submerged plants (Myriophyllum, Zannichellia, &c.) among which it haunts. A second species, Ph. leucogaster, of which also specimens were shown, taken at Holywood, has the like structure in some degree, and the two have been separated from Phytobius by Redtenbacher as the genus Litodactylus, but as Suffrian has pointed out, in the Stettin Entomological Journal, there are considerable differences between them, and Ph. velatus has the aquatic character much more decided. This species has been already given as Irish by Mr. Wollaston (" Zoologist," 1847, p. 1573); but it would appear from the " Entomologists' Annual," p. 105, that Ph. velaris was the insect intended, which belongs to another section of the genus, having the ordinary structure of tarsi, felted beneath, and with bilobed penultimate joint. Three other Irish species were shown, canaliculatus (taken at Blarney), quadrituberculatus, and comari (both at Holywood). The larvte of two of this section have been described viz., of P. notula by Ferris in the " Memoirs of the Academy of Lyons," and of P. velaris by Dufour in the " Annals of the French Entom. Society but that of Litodactylus is as yet unknown. Another insect of the same family not found by Mr. Clear, Gymnetron beccabungae, was taken (a single specimen) in the glen of the Shournagh river. This and the neighbouring streams which swell the current of the Lea, afforded Orectochilus villosus more abundantly than it had been found elsewhere. But, in consequence of its nocturnal habits, it is only to be procured by day under stones, or by fishing along the shaded edges of the stream.At Blarney Lake Gyrinus celox (Schicedte) occurred very sparingly. It is to be observed that this is reduced by Schaum (Catal. Hydradephaga Brit. Museum) to a synonym of G. bicolor, which last has been found by Mr. Furlong in Kerry. Of the genus Cassida the Irish list is very scanty, especially as regards the Dublin district, within which only C. rubiginosa is vouched for. The European list in the Stettin Catalogue amounts to 31, increased to 40 in Gaubil's, of which, however, two are properly Algirian, and two Caucasian. Even the British list in Curtis's Guide amounts to 18. Besides the species named, C. equestris is not uncommon in other parts, chiefly on Menthoe in watery places. C. nobilis has occurred on Cochlearia by the shore of Strangford Lough. Mr. Clear, by letter, had supplied the names of two more, obsoleta and hemisphaerica, the correctness of which has been ascertained by a late reference to the relics of his collection; and of the former, Mr. Haliday procured two specimens in the neighbourhood of Cork. The genus Colon numbers five species in Ireland, none of which have been observed in the Dublin district, though C. brunneus, which has occurred in Cork, Galway, and Wicklow, as well as in the North of Ireland, may be looked for here also. The other species recorded are serripes, appendiculatus, calcaratus, and dentipes (Sahlberg). This last had been given as a new species (C. spinipes) by Mr. Haliday in the Entomologist but Kraatz has since shown that the insect there described is the true dentipes of Sahlberg, and that Erichson has a different species under that name. It is not yet determined which of these two is the dentipes of Murray's Catalogue of Scotch Coleoptera. The enumeration of new species in the Entomologists' Annual suggests some notes on species alreadyrecorded as Irish. Gymnusa brevicollis, given as such by Mr. Haliday in the Entomologist" (1841), should be G. variegata, Kiesenwetter, as Dr. Schaum subsequently showed him. Boreaphilus brevicollis, described in the same place, judging from the figure given by Spry, is probably identical with Coryphium angusticolle, Stephens; but the characters were entirely misapprehended by him, and Sahlberg's older generic name cannot justly be made to yield. The genus is now rich in synonyms, Heer having more lately characterized it as Chevrieria, and last of all the name Macropalpus has been given it in the Annals of the French Entom. Society. Stephens's trivial name is unfortunately chosen; the thorax in this species being much broader in proportion than in the type B. henningianus* also shown. The only English specimen of the former is believed to be that in Mr. Kirby's collection. Three have been found at Holywood. One was taken on a rotten stump, the others off grass in sweeping. Arpedium brachypterum was first recorded as British in 1851 (Hardy and Bold's Catalogue of Coleoptera, &c.);but Irish specimens, with name and locality (Sliebh Donard), have been in the British Museum collection since 1847. These appear to agree very well with the form described by Kiesenwetter as A. troglodytes. It has not yet been found on any of the other mountains of Ireland. The other native species of the genus,A. myops, Hal., "Entomologist" (1841), has been definitely pronounced by Kraatz to be identical (as there queried) with A. humile, Erichson. The habitat given by him, Ural Mountains, and his having overlooked a character so singular in this tribe, as the want of ocelli, forbade its positive identification, before, with a species so common in this island. However, an inspection of Stephens's collection has shown it to be identical also with his Omalium subpubescens, which is the oldest name of the three. Specimens were shown of a Lesteva with wings scarcely extending to the end of the abdomen, and with elytra apparently shorter than in L. bicolor* These were taken on the top of Lugnaquilla and Brandon. L. bicolor,as commonly found in the low grounds, has ample wings; but the two agree so nearly in most other respects that this was proposed only as a variety collina.Corticaria cylindrical, Mnhm, (?) reported at a previous meeting (Nat. Hist. Rev.,vol. ii., proc. 53), having been sent to Mr. Curtis, he has pronounced it a species unknown to him. But in the "Zoologist" for May last, Mr. Wollaston has described as new (C. borealis} an insect apparently closely allied to this, and likewise found on the sea-coast. Saprinus dimidiatus (Nat. Hist. Kev., vol. i., p. 89) is, as Mr. Jansen has suggested (Ent. Annual, 1855, p. 94), intended for the species so named by Illiger and Payhull. It is doubtful, however, whether it should have a place in the Annual, as it was supposed, with us here, to be identical with Hister maritimus, Stephens. It is to be observed, however, that Fairmaire and Laboulbene make the latter a probable synonym of a different species, S. sabulosus, Fne. Fr. 280, 24. The Heterocerus, given as femoralis in the list of Dublin Coleoptera (Nat. Hist. Rev., vol. i., p. 34), was shown. Kiesenwetter has described it as a new species, H. arenosus; but with doubt expressed, having only two specimens before him. Aphodius lapponum, first recorded as British in 1847, by Mr. Hardy, as A. subalpinus, had been long before known to us, by its proper name, as a native of Ireland, which occurred on the hills both of Antrim and Wicklow. Cercyon depression, lately characterized as a new species, C. dorsostriatum, by Thomson in the Transactions of the Swedish Academy, 1854, occurs on most of our sea-coasts along with C. littorale, but more sparingly, under sea-weed drying on the sands. It was but lately that Mr. Haliday had observed its more peculiar habitat to be on open shingly shores, where it might be found abundantly on the Laminariae, cast up by the sea, weltering in the briny moisture, unmixed with C. littorale. In conclusion, some species of the family Trichopterygidce were shown, with Sturm's plates illustrative of Gillmeister's Monograph. Some of the Irish species appeared to be undescribed, and none of the recorded British species were wanting here, except Ptenidium levigatum, found by the Rev. W. Little in Dumfriesshire, Ptilium excavatum, in Mr. Stephens's collection, and Trichopteryx pumila, if this species lurks under the pusilla of Stephens, which the posture of the specimens in his collection makes it difficult to determine.Mr. Haliday remarked that Mr. Wollaston, in his accurate and " splendid volume, Insecta Maderensia," a copy of which the Association possesses through the liberality of the author, had substituted for Trichopteryx the name Acrotrichis proposed by Motschoulsky, on the ground that the former had been employed by Hubner ten years before Kirby applied it to this group of Coleoptera. With great deference for Mr. Wollaston's judgment on such a question, he would venture to put in a plea for the name imposed by the venerated Kirby, and embalmed in a work so well known and prized at home and abroad as the "Introduction to Entomology." The application of it in Lepidoptera was long since abandoned, and not the least likely to be revived. Indeed many of HUbner's "-genera" had little more scientific value than the " Darts" and "Waves" and " Carpets" of English Aurelians. If the names proposed by such multiplying genus-makers as Hubner and Desvoidy, though rejected, were to be considered as prohibited for other uses, he feared that the mass of verbal materials thus used up would be found a heavy loss. Some of the misuse which Agassiz had apprehended and warned against, has already arisen out of his invaluable " Nomenclator," and some besides which he had probably thought it unnecessary to denounce. But if the principle on which Trichopteryx was set aside were admitted, all that would be needful, for an author fond of seeing mihis in print, would be to examine the bis lecta names marked in the index of the "Nomenclator," and rename all which bore later dates (dates not always accurate), without examination as to the application or permanent acceptance of the earlier one. - Unfortunately Agassiz had lent the sanction of his name also to a sort of hypercritical purism liable to be abused. No doubt it was desirable that writers, who composed or adapted generic names from the Greek,should have a knowledge of the letters of the Greek alphabet, beyond their similarity in shape to the Roman letters of the printer. It must be conceded that, forinstance, Spavius, as the representative of [Greek characters}, was open to criticism. Indeed a considerably greater degree of etymological attainments than this inferred might be expended on the construction of generic names, without inconvenience; but,perhaps, stiffness and monotony would be the chief result from an unbending application of the rules devised by grammarians, but from which the Greek as a living language admitted so many variations. Dr. Leach of whom Kirby has said, Nihil non tetigit, et omnia qua tetigit ornavit had been a considerable maker of genera and generic names, which had found general acceptance. His ear had led him to introduce various compounds in which the more ordinary short a, for the close of the precedent member (a noun) in composition, was replaced by long e. These Agassiz has remodelled, for Limnebius, Lirnnephilus, &c., substituting Lintnobius, Limnophitus, and the like. Yet Elaphebolus, Stephanephorus, Zoephorus,Poephagus, Moeregenes, and more of this class stand unchallenged in the Lexicon. EvenPhysapus(Physapi, Physapoda), sanctioned by the names of Degeer, Linnasus,Illiger, Latreille, &c., might be vindicated against Burmeister's newer candidate, Physopoda, while Tola and Tana imprinted the characteristic a on so many compounds.But Burmeister, in his critical sagacity (nasi emunctioris), has not withheld his castigating hands, in yet other instances, from the style of Linnaeus, whose Myrmeleon has expanded, under the ferule, into Myrmecoleon, MIHI. Erichson upon this has remarked, that if the lengthened form be more accordant with the canons of grammarians, that chasen by Linnaeus savours more of the idiom of the Greek. That he might not appear before this court as a merely gratuitous advocate,Mr. Haliday would instance a compound of his own fabrication, Melanthrips, which under Burmeister's reforming hands had shot up into the tetrasyllable dignity of Melanothrips, MIHI. Then the critic would strip the spear of its garniture melandeton; the river must roll no more melandines in song; while in compensation Melancholia should hold no more sad victims in horrid chains! But to take defence on the very lowest grounds, there was an old legal maxim not inapplicable to any debatable cases "Fieri non oportebat, facta valent." To go a step beyond generic names; Jussieu's plan of an uniform termination, as distinctive of the natural families, had been applied to the animal kingdom by Leach, deriving the family names from the typical genus, in the form of the patronymic in idae. The modern families are in great part equivalent to the genera of Linnaeus, or of Fabricius, in entomology, and thus may rank among the most marked groups in the systematic scale. Hence there was an obvious advantage in discriminating them by some such device; and the method of Leach had been very generally adopted in England, as well as in France of late, and in Germany by Germar and probably by others. Burmeister has objected to this plan, that idae can properly be appended to Greek roots alone, and that if a few examples can be produced of Latin names so modified (e.gr., Romulidae of the Satirist,Scipiadae of Lucilius) they are only from the poets, while the language of zoology is simple prose. There is some reason in this; but we may add, that the vocabulary of the classics is necessarily insufficient for the extended wants of technical language, and that a form which, in virtue of these instances, is at least not foreign to the genius of the language, nor more obnoxious to criticism than other classes of modern derivatives and compounds, introduced of necessity, may claim some favour, as meeting an acknowledged want. The only other uniform, termination which has been proposed instead, not liable to yet stronger exceptions, is ina; but this is also in use for subordinate divisions of the families, and for the higher group the substantive has some obvious advantages over the adjective form. Having ascended from the genera so far, a few remarks may be allowed upon the names of orders. Linnaeus in the compounds ofptera found denominations for them,uniform and euphonious, while expressive of the characters to which he gave most weight in their discrimination. Fabricius, founding his system primarily on another set of organs, substituted names comparatively dissonant, uncouth, and etymologically corrupted. Even the signal benefits which he had conferred on science, by generic characters established on a surer base, as well as by a long series of added genera and species, could not perpetuate names encumbered with such disadvantages; and if at the present day an able Danish entomologist has adopted them, reformed in orthography, we may be disposed to respect Schioedte's patriotic predilections more than to commend his aesthetic judgment.The Linnean orders, and their names, with some necessary modification in the number and limits, seem destined to hold their place, as far as we can foresee from our present position. The very names of the orders seemed to presage a step, since accomplished, in the dissolution of the order Aptera, which rested on the want of the organs designated as the primary character in the arrangement of the class. Accordingly, all the Polypods, with Cancer, have been long severed as the class Crustacea, and the Octopods as Arachnida. Of the hexapod genera remaining, Termes found its place among the winged orders, even according to the judgment of the most obsequious followers of the Linnean method, as soon as the history of the race was known. Only Pulex and Pediculus, Lepisma and Podura, then were left; and these also have been since assigned respectively to their places (not yet undisputed) among the winged orders, which now embrace the whole class of insects under six great sections, with at most some small groups, whose position is intermediate,or yet undetermined, as some consider. These are, according to the nomenclature most generally received, Coleoptera, Hemiptera, Lepidoptera,Neuroptera, Hymenoptera, Diptera. For the fourth of these, as enlarged much beyond the Linnean sense, Burmeister has framed a new name, Gymnognatha.But this change seems needless, while it infringes on the consistent harmony of the whole. The order comprises the whole of the Linnean Neuroptera, increased onlyby some apterous forms, and by a group whose affinity Linneus himself confessed doubtful, by implication, when he referred them first to one and then to another order. On these grounds we retain the names Coleoptera, Trichopterygidas} Trichopteryx,in our enumeration of the Irish species of the family.
 * Proceedings of Swedish Academy for 1850, p. 213.t See the description of both these species at the end of this paper.

The species marked with an asterisk before the number have been found in Britain, but not yet observed in Ireland. Gen. 1. PTENIDIUM, Erichson; Redtenbacher; Wollaston; Faune Francaise; p., Motschoulsky Trichopteryx p., Kirby; Heer; Gillmeister; Mannerheim; Mots.; Alibert. Anisarthria p., Stephens. 1. punctatum, Gyllenhall; Woll.; Fn.Fr. alutaceum, Gilm. littorale, Mots. Common about dunghills; also on fuci and zosterae drying on the shore, the larva occurring with the perfect insect. 2. apicale, Sturm.; Er.; Gilm.; Redt.; Fn.Fr.; Woll. perpusillum, melas, Marsham; Steph. nitidum, Steph. evanescens, Heer; Mots. punctatum, elongatulum, myrmecophilum, Mots. Var. fuscicorne, Er. obscuricorne, Mots. Common about dunghills, and among fallen leaves, &c. 4. pusillum, Gyll.; Er.; Gilm.; Redt.; Fn.Fr. minutissimum, Steph. nitidum, Heer. -foveolatum, Alib. Not rare, with the second.
 * 3. laevigatum, Er. punctula, Steph. (?)

Gen. 2. NOSSIDIUM, Er.; Fn.Fr. Anisarthria, Mots.; p., Steph. Ptilium p., Redt. 1. pilosellum, Marsh.; Steph.; Er.; Fn.Fr. nitidulum, brunneum, Marsh.; Steph.;-ferrarii, Redt. Very rare, on rotten stumps.

Gen. 3. PTILIUM, Er.; Redt.; Fn.Fr. p. Heer; Comolli. Trichopteryx p., Steph.; Mots.; Alib.; Gilm.; Mann. Ptinella, Micrus, Ptenidium p., Mots.

yallicuin. limbatum, Mots. 2. angustatum, Er.; Fn.Fr. oblongum, Gilm.; Redt. rugulosum, Alib. Rare. 3. coarctatum, n. sp. Lineare, subdepresaum, capite thoraceque nigris scabriculis, elytris fuscis, antennis pedibusque flavis, prothorace transverso postice attenuate intra basim transversim obsolete impresso. Long. 1/4 lin. Elongate linear, rather depressed. Head and thorax black, pubescent, the hairs seeming to spring from distinct granular dots. Head triangular with small eyes, as broad as the prothorax; mouth prominent; palpi and antennae light yellow, the last joint of these globose-ovate, the first two joints ferruginous. Prothorax broader than long; truncated in front, the sides rounded, strongly attenuated behind, with the basal angles rounded off, faintly impressed within the hind margin. Elytra nearly linear, covering the abdomen, obtusely rounded in common at the tip; scarcely broader than the greatest breadth of prothorax, and singly more than three times so long as broad; intricately stippled and pubescent (as well as the scutellum), and hence rather opaque; blackish- brown, with the tip paler. Legs ferruginous, femora rather darker. Narrower and not longer than Trich. curta. The very brief character given of Tr. pulchella, Alibert, contains nothing to distinguish it from our insect, but its size is considerably greater; and the pulchellum of Gillmeister and Faune Fran- caise is described as having two separate impressions at the base of prothorax, not observable in ours. Whether it be apterous, as stated of Alibert's insect, is uncertain. Rare; in a farm -yard at Holywood. 4. clandestinum, n. sp. Sublineare depressum subtiliter pubescensfusco-testaceum, antennis pedibusque pallide flavis, prolhorace obcordato basi media foveolato. Long, 1/5 lin. Probably the smallest known Coleopterous insect, being smaller, but especially narrower, than Pt. excavatum. Nearly linear, depressed, finely pubescent, dusky testaceous. Head triangular, as broad as prothorax. Eyes black, coarsely granulated. Antennae pale yellow, stout, the intermediate joints paler; those immediately preceding the club oblate; the 2nd, 9th, and 10th globose, the 10th twice as large as 9th; the llth ovate, rather acute. Prothorax with the sides somewhat rounded before the middle, narrowed behind, with the basal angles a little obtuse, an oblong impression, or abbreviated channel, in the middle of the base. Elytra two and ahalf times as long as prothorax, one-third broader than the base of it, and nearly of uniform breadth for two-thirds of their length, thenceforth rounded-attenuate, covering the abdomen. Wings perfect, fringed with blackish hairs. Legs pale yellow. Taken at Holywood. Also in England, J. Curtis. Seems to be very rare, but from its extreme minuteness and pale colour may easily escape observation. Compare the description of Ptilium vittatum, Mots., found in ants' nests at Charkow.
 * 1. excavatum, Er.; Gilm.; Redt. trisulcatum, Steph. foveolatum, Alib.

5. kunzei, Heer; Er.; Gilm.; Redt.; Fn.Fr.; Mots. longicorne, Waltl. spinipenne, Comolli. titan, Newman (?) Not rare about farm-yards.

Gen. 4. TRICHOPTERYX, Er.; Redt; Fn.Fr. p., Kirby; Heer; Gilm.; Alib. Ptilium, Mots. p., Waltl.Acrotrichis, Mots.; Woll.

1. curta, Alib.; Gilm. abbreviatella, (Heer?); Er.; Fn.Fr. nana, Steph. minuta p., Steph. Not rare about farm- yards.

2. sericans, Heer; Er.; Fn.Fr.; Mots. depressa, Gilm.; Redt volans, bovina, brevis, Mots. Not rare, with the last.

3. *pumila, Er.; Fn.Fr.; sericans, Gilm.; Redt pusilla, Steph. (?)

4. pyymaa, Er.; Fn.Fr. paralleloyramma, Gilm. : Redt. chevrolatii, Alib. minuta p., Steph. Rare.

5. suffocata, n. sp. Oblonga subdepressa nigra subtiliter pubescens, antennarum basi pedibusque rufescentibus, prothorace coleopterorum latitudine angulis posticis aeutiusculis, abdominis segmentis tribus retectis. Long. 2/3 lin. Much narrower than Tr. fascicularis, but as long; more than half the abdomen, or three segments, being uncovered by the elytra; the last segment large, nearly semicircular, with three points. Antennae blackish, the first two joints piceous. Legs and coxae obscure reddish. Elytra blackish to the end. Found in October, the larva and perfect insect together, under damp fallen leaves on stones, in the bed of a dried-up brook (Glen-na-Chatta) of the Shournagh river (Cork). When alive, the elongated form, somewhat like a Hypocyptus, was very striking. Obs. Tr. abdominalis, Fn.Fr. 333, 8, seems to differ from this species by the more produced angles of the base of prothorax, the lighter colour, and rather inferior size. The habitat also is different viz., in the nests of Formica rufa.

6. fascicularis, (Herbst.); Heer; Er.; Fn.Fr.; Woll. minutissima, Marsh. atomaria, Steph. grandicollis, Mann. intermedia, Gilm.; Redt. lata p., Mots. Very abundant about dunghills and in pastures.

7. atomaria, (Degeer^); Gyll.; Heer; Er.; Gilm.; Redt.; Fn.Fr.; Mots. minima, Marsh.; Steph. -Jlavicornis, Waltl. marina, Mots. Hare, among lichens, Wicklow, Cork, &c. 8. grandicollis, Er.; Fn.Fr.;fascicularis, Gilm.; Kedt. lata p., Mots. Still rarer than the preceding, Wicklow.

9. Trichopteryx (?) mollis, n. sp. Oblongo-ovata depressa nigra cano-sericea, antennis tibiis tarsisque ferrugineis, prothorace amplissimo angulis posticis productis acutis testaceis, elytris truncatis apice testaceo-limbatis. Long 1/3 lin. In outline not unlike Tr. atomaria, but much depressed, and thickly clothed with a fine silky whitish pubescence, without distinct punctures. Prothorax still wider than in that species, the sides much rounded, widest behind the middle, the base deeply sinuate-emarginate; the hinder angles being much produced back and pointed, coloured testaceous to a pretty large extent. Elytra at the base narrower than prothorax, and tapering a little to the tip, where they are abruptly truncated, with the inner angle sloped away, so that their joint extremity is a little notched at the suture; the narrow hind edge pale testaceous. Abdomen with three dorsal segments uncovered and deflected, edged with pale pubescence; seven ventral segments, the 1st large, the following four very short, the 7th triangular (sometimes ending in three points a sexual distinction?). Mouth very prominent, the bilobed ligula and the mala exserted. Palpi pale. Antennae dusky testaceous, long and slender, with the club indeterminate; the first two joints darker; the third scarcely shorter than the fourth. Eyes pubescent. Mesosternum, shorter than usual in Trichopteryx, with a short channeled keel, applied to the prosternum. Hind legs very remote, more so than in Ptenidium even. Hind coxae large triangular, but not transversely dilated, covering only the base of the thigh with the trochanter. Legs testaceous, hind coxae blackish, femora blackish-brown, except the tips of the anterior pairs. Differs both from Trichopteryx and Ptilium, in having one ventral segment more (in this agreeing with Ptenidium), and is intermediate between them as to the size of the hind coxae Inhabits sandy sea-coasts, rather rare. Note. Trichopteryx fucicola, Alibert, seems to agree with this in the form of the prothorax, in pubescence and colour (though according to the authors of the Faune Francaise the legs are entirely testaceous); but in the comparison made between it and Tr. intermedia, the depressed form, the figure of the antennae and the coxae, of our insect, could scarcely have passed unnoticed by their accurate and practised eyes. Alibert describes impressions of the prothorax, which may be inconstant, as they do not mention such. Tr. umbricola, Woll., seems also to differ from ours, and to come nearer to the species, described in Faune Fran- 9aise; but is superior in. size to either, and the locality in which it occurred is different.


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Page:The Life of Michael Angelo.djvu/87

We must not be deceived by this good humour. Michael Angelo could not endure being ugly. To a man like himself, appreciating physical beauty more than any one, ugliness was a disgrace. We find traces of his humiliation in some of his madrigals. His sorrow was so much the more acute as, the whole of his life he was consumed with love, which does not appear ever to have been returned. Consequently he retired within himself, putting all his tenderness and troubles into his poetry.

The composition of verse—a pressing necessity with him—dated from his earliest years. He covered his drawings, letters and loose sheets of paper with thoughts, to which he afterwards returned and ceaselessly polished. Unfortunately, in 1518, he burnt the greater number of

title: Page:The Life of Michael Angelo.djvu/87


text: The Children of the New Forest/Chapter II


text:
Author:Alfred Joshua Butler

Works

 * Sport in Ancient Times
 * The Arab Invasion of Egypt: and the Last Thirty Years of Roman Dominion
 * The Ancient Coptic Churches of Egypt
 * (The Coptic Church)
 * (The Coptic Church)

title: Author:Alfred Joshua Butler


text: The Children of the New Forest/Chapter III


text: The Children of the New Forest/Chapter IV


text: Page:The Yellow Book - 01.djvu/7

title: Page:The Yellow Book - 01.djvu/7


text:
Page:The Yellow Book - 01.djvu/5

The Yellow Book—Vol. I.—April, 1894.

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