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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII.

THE INTERVIEW.

BY JAMES H. SANA.

CHAPTER I.

The sun had just set, and the grey twilight was beginning to steal over the landscape, when the iron gateway of a spacious garden, attached to one of thoso old manorial-like residences which existed, here and there, in our ante-revolutionary times, was cautiously pushed open.

"Courage, Amy," said a sweet voice, that itself vainly essayed to be heroic. "Courage, you are in the path of duty, then why should you tremble?"

But the companion of the fair speaker, who .was even more beautiful than her lovely confi dant, hesitated and drew back.

"Oh! what will uncle say?" was her reply. "I have never disobeyed him before, and he has always been like a father to me."

"What will Leonard say if you don't meet him? He is going to join the army to-morrow; he is about to risk his life in the noblest of causes; and will you refuse to say farewell to him?"

As she spoke, she dragged her companion through the gateway, and, at the same instant, a gentleman, attired in plain citizen's clothes, and carrying a cloak on his arm to be used if necessary as a disguise, emerged from the shadow of the wall.

"There, I'll keep watch here," said the first speaker, pushing her timid, blushing, trembling friend toward the eager cavalier, "and don't, at such a moment, be ashamed to tell Capt. Leonard how much you love him."

Amy Florence was the niece and heiress of Judgo Shannon, who, after having been successively attorney general and justice of the Su preme Court, had retired, a few years before the war of Independence began, to his splendid country-scat, in the vicinity of Philadelphia. Like many of the wealthy officials of that day he leaned strongly to the royal side, and hence had banished his niece's favorite suitor from the house, though, before the quarrel had becomo so heated, nobody had been a more weleome guest there than Hugh Leonard, the orphan son of Judge Shannon's early friend and patron, and himself a brilliant and rising young lawyer. "The young traitor," he exclaimed, angrily, when he announced this to Amy, "I might have forgiven him, if he had stood neuter, though it were shame in one, whose ancestors had fought at Naseby for the king, to be even that; but to write on the side of these rebels, to accept a commission in their beggarly army, I'll never forgive him as long as old John Shannon lives! You'll live to see him hung," he continued, in different to Amy's tears, for the judge was one of those who had little care for the feelings of others, when he was angry. "Many a better man, and less of a traitor, suffered in the fortyfive." Thus forbidden to visit his mistress, Leonard, or Capt. Leonard, as we ought to call him, had solicited a parting interview with Amy, beforo he joined the army, a request which she had long delayed to grant, for, brought up as she had been, it seemed both unmaidenly in itself and ungrateful townrd her uncle. Not that she did not love Leonard. No pledges, indeed, had ever been exchanged between them; but they had been so much together, and their tastes were so similar, that she could not help but love him; though, so little did high-bred maidens think of such things in her time, that she was ignorant of the state of her heart till her uncle banished Leonard, which first revealed to her how her happiness depended on the exile. But in spite of all this, her lofty notions of duty might have prevented her granting the interview, so longand eagerly solicited, if it had not been for herfriend, Kate Manners, who plead the lover's cause17


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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII.

PHILOPENA.

BY A. L. OTIS.

"There is more real fun in one week of country, than in a whole year of city life," was the declaration of every guest at Mrs. Bartol's country-seat, during the week I spent there last summer. Such sociable intercourse, such scope for improvement of each other's acquaintance, such chatty breakfasts, and long afternoons in the woods, and drives at sun-down or moonrise, and evenings on the porch, facing the southern heavens, and catching the southern breeze, while we sang solos, duos and concertos!

There were half a dozen guests: three young ladies, and as many gentlemen. Mrs. Bartol and her son Clement completed the party.

There was Celia Linton, the beloved—much coveted as a daughter-in-law of Mrs. Bartol. There was Kate Upham, supposed to be very willing to be the daughter-in-law herself, but in reality a little, careless flirt, quite heart-whole. And there was myself, Celia's intimate friend.

Of the gentlemen—first Clement, loving Celia with all his heart; but so impulsive and demon strative a lover, that he frightened the timid girl into absolute avoidance of him.

Then John and Arthur Clare, whom I shall not have occasion to mention again, I think. And th■n Jack Linton, Celia's brother, aged fourteen, a "mad-wag," general mischief, and great favorite. One day we were all sitting around the dinner-table, eating almonds.

"I have a philopena," said Clement, "who will take it? No one offers? Then, mother, be proxy for them all. Now, ladies, the ono who can catch me, shall have the Psyche."

This was a small marble head of a beautiful Psyche, which Clement had bought that morning. I happened to know that he had intended it for Celia, but she had too strong a sense of propriety to accept so valuable a present, He hoped to make a play of giving it, and put her in such a position that she could not refuse it. Mrs. Bartol saw through the plan, and highly approved it. So she ate the almond in behalf of us all, and proposed the German fashion of the philopena. We agreed ; therefore if any one of us could make Clement take something from her, she won the forfeit. As I knew Clement's wishes, I manoeuvred to make Celia the successful offerer, and Mrs. Bar tol also did so, but Kato was a host against us. She had a quick invention, with Jack Linton to spur it on, for he espoused her side warmly. I wondered which would win the day, Clement or Kate—man's determination or woman's wit— for it was quite evident to me that Clement did not care to let Kate have the beautiful bust, which, however, she strongly desired to win from him. Clement wished to offer Celia somo apricots, but they had been removed to the other side of the table, and the waiter had gone to bring in the coffee. Kato jumped at the opportunity. She handed them to him, but her eyes twinkled too expectantly. Clement refused to take them with a merry nod. Mrs. Bartol tried to make Celia pass his cup of coffee to him, but the shy girl avoided doing so. We soon saw that, unless by accident, she would not win the Psyche. She was as deter mined not to seek it, as Clement was to make her take it. After dinner, Kate engaged Clement in con versation She was sitting by the window, he, standing, leaning against the sash. She flatter ingly motioned to a chair at ner side, giving it a gentle push with her hand. wh'.ch she did not withdrow. Clement gallantly affected haste to take the chair, but before he had done so he recollected. "Ah; a trap, Miss Kate! But I am not the mole to be caught in it!" "No, you arc by no means blind! You see through all my c!cc little plans." 89


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 greatly his chances of success"), and the education of the feminine intelligence ("The cow that kicks her weaned calf is all heart"). He makes identically the same confident appeal to the moral motive which was for so long the salvation of the Puritan individualism from which the American tradition derives. "That hand," he writes, "which supports the head of the new-born baby, the mother's hand, supports the civilisation of the world."

But that sort of thing is not saving the old native strain in the population. It moves people, no doubt, but inadequately. And here is a passage that is quite the quintessence of Americanism, of all its deep moral feeling and sentimental untruthfulness. I wonder if any man but an American or a British nonconformist in a state of rhetorical excitement ever believed that Shakespeare wrote his plays or Michael Angelo painted in a mood of humanitarian exaltation, "for the good of all men."


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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII. THE COSTUMES OF THE ORIENT.

BY CHARLES J. PETERSON.

HE East is; still picturesque. The old grey antique poetic dress of earlier timea survives in the Orient. ‘The traveller, landing at Al exandris, sees the identical porter that ap. pears in the Arabian Nighte. Asia, ancient mother of na tions, yet re- tains the ro- mantic cos- tume of the primitive ages, and is younger, bi fa that, than any of her ohil- aren.

Some of the most graceful fashions of the East are to be found in India. In that delicious clime, where the balmy breeze blows through the sacred banyan, wafting toward one the fragrance of the oleander, the myrtle, and the jasmine, everything conspires to poetry: and dress : takes its shape accordingly. In India also everybody wears ornaments. Even the poorest women ; contrive to have a silver bangle or bracelet for the arm; while the rich are gorgeous with jewelry. The Affghans, north-west of Hindoostan, parti cularly dress picturesquely. The men have trou sers of dark-colored cloth ; a low cap ; and half boots of brown leather, laced or buttoned up to the calf. Over this, for a great part of the year, is thrown a large cloak of well tanned sheep- skin, with the wool inside,

or of soft and pliant grey felt. This gar ment is worn loose over the shoulders, and with the sleeve hanging down, and reaches to the an kles. The women wear a shirt of the finest materials, ge nerally colored or embroidered with flowers in silk. Their trousers are colored and comparatively tight. On their bends is a small cap of bright-colored silk, embroidered with gold thread; and a large sheet, which they wear attached, and with which they bide their faces when a stranger approaches.

In the Mogul empire, the dress of the rich is particularly splendid. The women wear a silk net veil of a crimson or purple color, embroi dered in silver, and with which they either cover the face, or throw back over the shoulders as an ornament. Their chemise is of transparent gauze, reaching to the slippers; and beneath are seen the drawers of green satin, flowing with gold. The hair is long, divided from the fore head, and ornamented with pearls and other jewels. The silk-net, thrown over the head, was worn also in the classic times of Greece; for in the "Odyssey," Helen presents sach a veil to Telemachus. "The beauteous queen, advancing, then display'd A shining veil, and thus endearing said, 'Accept, dear youth, this monument of love, Long since, in better days, by Helen wove; Safe in thy mother's care the vesture lay, To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day.'" 377 �


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It is the voice of the American tradition strained to the utmost to make itself audible to the new world, and cracking into italics and breaking into capitals with the strain. The rest of that enormous bale of paper is eloquent of a public void of moral ambitions, lost to any sense of comprehensive things, deaf to


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 ideas, impervious to generalisations, a public which has carried the conception of freedom to its logical extreme of entire individual detachment. These tell-tale columns deal all with personality and the drama of personal life. They witness to no interest but the interest in intense individual experiences. The engagements, the love affairs, the scandals of conspicuous people are given in pitiless detail in articles adorned with vigorous portraits and sensational pictorial comments. Even the eavesdroppers who write this stuff strike the personal note, and their heavily muscular portraits frown beside the initial letter. Murders and crimes are worked up to the keenest pitch of realisation, and any new indelicacy in fashionable costume, any new medical device or cure, any new dance or athleticism, any new breach in the moral code, any novelty in sea bathing or the woman's seat on horseback, or the like, is given copious and moving illustration, stirring headlines, and eloquent reprobation. There is a coloured supplement of knock-about fun, written chiefly in the quaint dialect of the New York slums. It is a language from which "th" has vanished, and it presents a world in which the kicking by a mule of an endless succession of victims is an inexhaustible joy to young and old. "Dat ole Maud!" There is a smaller bale dealing with sport. In the advertisement columns one finds nothing of books, nothing of art; but great choice of bust developers, hair restorers, nervous tonics, clothing sales, self-contained flats, and business opportunities

Individuality has in fact got home to itself, and,


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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII.

THE ARTIST AND THE ALTAR.

BY MRS. M. A. DENISOX.

"What ahull we do?" Such was the exclamation of a man who stood on the stage of a theatre, looking at the scenic representation, half finished.

Suddenly he resumed,

"It must be as much like an altar as pos sible—I have it! the old church where that picturesque white-headed fellow held forth yes terday."

"Shame!" exclaimed a young man—"the Tenerable minister spoke words that probed me to the heart, and though I am an actor—I can respect age and goodness."

"Oh! well—I rank them all long tongued hypocrites," replied the artist, sneeringly, pois ing his brush—"at any rate, be he saint or sinner, his pulpit is the very thing; I'll go up and sketch it."

A few minutes brought him to the venerable edifice, for it was not very distant from the theatre.

The old church stood back on the road, covered with ivy and surrounded with trees. It was a week day, but the hammer resounded there—workmen were in the belfry, mending the old stone tower.

But the stillness was broken below. Opening the venerable doors, the young man stood on the threshold.

He did not lift his hat, but gazed about with a careless look of admiration.

The stillness was most impressive; the sun came in, subdued by the deep-set windows with their stained dyes into a melancholy but sweet lustre, both deepened and dimmed by the thick circular plates of glass set round the wall at regular distances: and the whole interior was filled with a dark, clear glow.

But the solemnity of the scene produced no corresponding feelings in the artist. He glanced around, indeed, under the impulse of his naturally fine taste ; but he felt no veneration ; in fact, he began to whistle, as he walked up the aisle. To him that venerable edifice, thick with holy associations, was only a thing for polite mockery. "Yes, a fine old altar," he soliloquized, look ing at it professionally, "it will be just the thing—just the thing!" Throwing off his hat, as he spoke, he took his pencil and paper out and moved forward to begin the work. The light made a beautiful halo about his head—it was a noblo head—a glorious though slightly sensual face; and as he stood there, his countenance beaming with the exaltation of genius, he seemed a man inspired. The work grew rapidly beneath his hands. Already, in imagination, he saw it painted; heard the applauding shouts of the audience as the curtain drew up; received the compliments of the beautiful chief actress for the perfect character of the illusion. He dashed in the shadows here, and brought the light out there, with increased spirit. Never had he sketched, in his own opinion, so felicitously, or with such rapid ease. "There—a deuced good copy," he said, when he had finished, "now if that old white-haired saint would consent to be painted by a sinner, why " He never spoke again. An awful crash re sponded to his words—a stone, loosened from the tower, a mighty stone, came crushing through the roof—it fell upon his uuprotected head and buried him beneath it. It was a terrible spectacle. "He made sport of sacred things—and here his body lies—where is his soul?" It was the young actor who spoke. He looked upward to the disfigured ceiling, and then shudderingly at his friend. 305


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 their summary (6) is of unusual kind. Its projection back into the apparently phenomenal world is therefore unusual.

Herein then consists the reality of the operations and effects of ceremonial magic, and I conceive that the apology is ample, so far as the "effects" refer only to those phenomena which appear to the magician himself, the appearance of the spirit, his conversation, possible shocks from imprudence, and so on, even to ecstasy on the one hand, and death or madness on the other.

But can any of the effects described in this our book Goetia be obtained, and if so, can you give a rational explanation of the circumstances? Say you so?

I can, and will.

The spirits of the Goetia are portions of the human brain.

Their seals therefore represent (Mr. Spencer's projected cube) methods of stimulating or regulating those particular spots (through the eye).

The names of God are vibrations calculated to establish:

(a) General control of the brain. (Establishment of functions relative to the subtle world.)

(b) Control over the brain in detail. (Rank or type of the Spirit.)

(c) Control of one special portion. (Name of the Spirit.)

The perfumes aid this through smell. Usually the perfume will only tend to control a large area; but there is an attribution of perfumes to letters of the alphabet enabling one, by a Qabalistic formula, to spell out the Spirit's name.

I need not enter into more particular discussion of these points; the intelligent reader can easily fill in what is lacking.

If, then, I say, with Solomon:

"The Spirit Cimieries teaches logic," what I mean is:

"Those portions of my brain which subserve the logical faculty may be stimulated and developed by following out the processes called 'The Invocation of Cimieries.

And this is a purely materialistic rational statement; it is independent of any objective hierarchy at all. Philosophy has nothing to say; and


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HAT night there was a small evening party in the palace gardens. The avenues of white sand were lined with motionless fireflies, wide-eyed like torches serving as lamps. In the pond, little serenading frogs coaxed the "Moonlight Nocturne", accompanied by the cries of thousands of little crickets. The prince walked around the garden in the company of the little girl and then invited her for a gondola ride. Off they went in a gondola made of mother-of-pearl, rowed by twelve seahorses.

They sailed over the water, lulled by the beautiful verses that a poet dragonfly recited to the sound of a tiny harp played by Master Mantis.


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 Science can only suspend judgment, pending a proper and methodical in vestigation of the facts alleged.

Unfortunately, we cannot stop there. Solomon promises us that we can (1) obtain information; (2) destroy our enemies; (3) understand the voices of nature; (4) obtain treasure; (5) heal diseases, etc. I have taken these five powers at random; considerations of space forbid me to explain all.

(1) Brings up facts from sub-consciousness.

(2) Here we come to an interesting fact. It is curious to note the contrast between the noble means and the apparently vile ends of magical rituals. The latter are disguises for sublime truths. "To destroy our enemies" is to realize the illusion of duality, to excite compassion.

(Ah! Mr. Waite, the world of Magic is a mirror, wherein who sees muck is muck.)

(3) A careful naturalist will understand much from the voices of the animals he has studied long. Even a child knows the difference of a cat's miauling and purring. The faculty may be greatly developed.

(4) Business capacity may be stimulated.

(5) Abnormal states of the body may be corrected, and the involved tissues brought back to tone, in obedience to currents started from the brain.

So for all other phenomena. There is no effect which is truly and necessarily miraculous.

Our Ceremonial Magic fines down, then, to a series of minute, though of course empirical, physiological experiments, and whoso will carry them through intelligently need not fear the result.

I have all the health, and treasure, and logic, I need; I have no time to waste. "There is a lion in the way." For me these practices are useless; but for the benefit of others less fortunate I give them to the world, together with this explanation of, and apology for, them.

I trust that the explanation will enable many students who have hitherto, by a puerile objectivity in their view of the question, obtained no results, to succeed; that the apology may impress upon our scornful men of science that the study of the bacillus should give place to that of the baculum, the little to the great—how great one only realizes when one identifies the wand with the Mahalingam, up which Brahma flew at the rate of 84,000 yojanas a second for 84,000 mahakalpas, down which Vishnu flew at the rate of


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 procedure, that had never entered into my calculation—I disclaimed all idea of being influenced by it; however, I cannot but say that the desire of being enabled to do so much good, by the possession of these bad men's riches, made some impression on my heart, and I said I would consider of the matter. I did consider it, and that right seriously as well as frequently; and there was scarcely an hour in the day on which my resolves were not animated by my great friend, till at length I began to have a longing desire to kill my brother, in particular. Should any man ever read this scroll, he will wonder at this confession, and deem it savage and unnatural. So it appeared to me at first, but a constant thinking of an event changes every one of its features. I have done all for the best, and as I was prompted, by one who knew right and wrong much better than I did. I had a desire to slay him, it is true, and such a desire too as a thirsty man has to drink; but at the same time, this longing desire was mingled with a certain terror, as if I had dreaded that the drink for which I longed was mixed with deadly poison. My mind was so much weakened, or rather softened about this time, that my faith began a little to give way, and


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 as people say, taken off its frills. All but one; Mr. Arthur Brisbane's eloquence one may consider as the last stitch of the old costume—mere decoration. Excitement remains the residual object in life. The New York American represents a clientèle to be counted by the hundred thousand, manifestly with no other solicitudes, just burning to live and living to burn.

The modifications of the American tradition that will occur through its adoption by these silent foreign ingredients in the racial synthesis are not likely to add to it or elaborate it in any way. They tend merely to simplify it to bare irresponsible non-moral individualism. It is with the detail and qualification of a tradition as with the inflections of a language; when another people takes it over the refinements disappear. But there are other forces of modification at work upon the American tradition of an altogether more hopeful kind. It has entered upon a constructive phase. Were it not so, then the American social outlook would, indeed, be hopeless.

The effectual modifying force at work is not the strangeness nor the temperamental maladjustment of the new elements of population, but the conscious realisation of the inadequacy of the tradition on the part of the more intelligent sections of the American population. That blind national conceit that would hear no criticism and admit no deficiency has disappeared. In the last decade such a change has come


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 I doubted most presumptuously of the least tangible of all Christian tenets, namely, of the infallibility of the elect. I hardly comprehended the great work I had begun, and doubted of my own infallibility, or that of any created being. But I was brought over again by the unwearied diligence of my friend to repent of my backsliding, and view once more the superiority of the Almighty's counsels in its fullest latitude. Amen.

I prayed very much in secret about this time, and that with great fervor of spirit, as well as humility; and my satisfaction at finding all my requests granted is not to be expressed.

My illustrious friend still continuing to sound in my cars the imperious duty to which I was called, of making away with my sinful relations, and quoting many parallel actions out of the Scriptures, and the writings of the holy Fathers, of the pleasure the Lord took in such as executed his vengeance on the wicked, I was obliged to acquiesce in his measures, though with certain limitations. It was not easy to answer his arguments, and yet I was afraid that he soon perceived a leaning to his will on my part. "If the acts of Jehu, in rooting out the whole house of his master, were ordered and approv-


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 over the American mind as sometimes comes over a vigorous and wilful child. Suddenly it seems to have grown up, to have begun to weigh its powers and consider its possible deficiencies. There was a time when American confidence and self-satisfaction seemed impregnable; at the slightest qualm of doubt America took to violent rhetoric as a drunkard resorts to drink. Now the indictment I have drawn up harshly, bluntly and unflatteringly in § 4 would receive the indorsement of American after American. The falling birth-rate of all the best elements in the State, the cankering effect of political corruption, the crumbling of independence and equality before the progressive aggregation of wealth—he has to face them, he cannot deny them. There has arisen a new literature, the literature of national self-examination, that seems destined to modify the American tradition profoundly. To me it seems to involve the hope and possibility of a conscious collective organisation of social life.

If ever there was an epoch-marking book it was surely Henry Demarest Lloyd's "Wealth against Commonwealth." It marks an epoch not so much by what it says as by what it silently abandons. It was published in 1894, and it stated in the very clearest terms the incompatibility of the almost limitless freedom of property set up by the constitution, with the practical freedom and general happiness of the mass of men. It must be admitted that Lloyd never followed up the implications of this repudiation. He made his statements in the language of the tradition he assailed, and foreshadowed the replacement of chaos by order in quite chaotic and mystical appeals.


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 On the way back from this beautiful walk, the prince invited her to fly.

— There are even airplanes around here? asked the girl, amazed.

— They're safer than men's planes, you'll see," replied the prince.

Despite her fear, the little girl took courage and accepted the invitation.

Straight away, an aircricket came. It was a green cricket, carrying on its back a little wicker boat on the head of two insects, a beetle and a firefly. The firefly, with its large phosphorescent eyes, served as the plane's spotlight and the beetle was there to buzz, pretending to be the noise of the propeller. Narizinho found the ingenious invention very funny and got into the little boat without fear. The beetle buzzed and the airplane shot off into the sky like a bolt of lightning. They went up, up, up so high that the earth from there looked like an orange. They flew through clouds and came very close to the moon, which the little girl had the pleasure of touching with the tip of her finger. And they only came down when the sun was rising.

N THE night of that day, Narizinho was in the best part of her dream when she woke up to a knock on the window.

— Knock!... Knock!...


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 84,000 crores of yojanas a second for 84,000 crores of mahakalpas—yet neither reached an end.

But I reach an end.

Foyers, N.B., July, 1903.

.—I had intended in this place to devote a little attention to the edition (save the mark) of the "Goetia" produced by Mr. A. E. Waite in the "Book of Black Magic."

But a fresh perusal of that work reveals it to be such a farrago of twenty-fifth-rate shoddy schoolboy journalism that disgust compels me to refrain. I may merely mention that the letterpress is garbled and the seals abominably drawn. To give one concrete example; on Mr. Waite observes:

"This" (that the compiler of the Lemegeton was acquainted with the N. T.) "is proved by the references in the Third Conjuration to the Living Creatures of the Apocalypse."

There is no such reference!

In the Second Conjuration, for I have corrected Mr. Waite's careless blunder, there is a reference to Living Creatures; there is also a reference to the same beings in the Apocalypse.

The argument then stands:

The Book of Chronicles refers to King Solomon (unknown date). Mr. Waite refers to King Solomon (1898), Therefore, The author of the Book of Chronicles was acquainted with Mr. Waite's book.

We will conclude by condoling with the author of the Book of Chronicles.


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— Who is it?" she said, jumping out of bed, trembling with fear.

— Good evening, beautiful princess," replied a familiar voice. I have a secret to tell you.

It was the frog. Narizinho took a relieved breath and, opening the window, asked him what he wanted.

— You saved my life," replied the frog, "and I want to save yours. Listen to me. After the pebbles had been removed from my stomach, I left the garden and went to hide in a dark corner to heal the cut, looking for a stone burrow. I found one that I liked, and I was dozing there when, at midnight, I heard the sound of voices next door. Since I'm very curious, I put my ear to a crack and started listening. That crack led to the Black Scorpion's prison. At first it seemed to me that the blind monster was talking to himself. But it wasn't like that. The monster was talking to the captain of the guard, whose voice I know very well. They were plotting against the prince, and they spent a long time agreeing on the plans for a revolt to kill the prince and hang all the nobles in the kingdom. They also agreed that the blind Scorpion would ascend the throne, and you would be forced to marry him.


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 ed of by the Lord," said he, "would it not have been more praiseworthy if one of Ahab's own sons had stood up for the cause of the God of Israel, and rooted out the sinners and their idols out of the land?"

"It would certainly," said I. "To our duty to God all other duties must yield."

"Go thou then and do likewise," said he. "Thou art called to a high vocation; to cleanse the sanctuary of thy God in this thy native land by the shedding of blood; go thou forth then like a ruling energy, a master spirit of desolation in the dwellings of the wicked, and high shall be your reward both here and hereafter."

My heart now panted with eagerness to look my brother in the face: On which my companion, who was never out of the way, conducted me to a small square in the suburbs of the city, where there were a number of young noblemen and gentlemen playing at a vain, idle, and sinful game, at which there was much of the language of the accursed going on; and among these blasphemers he instantly pointed out my brother to me. I was fired with indignation at seeing him in such company, and so employed; and I placed myself close beside him


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 to watch all his motions, listen to his words, and draw inferences from what I saw and heard. In what a sink of sin was he wallowing! I resolved to take him to task, and if he refused to be admonished, to inflict on him some condign punishment; and knowing that my illustrious friend and director was looking on, I resolved to show some spirit. Accordingly, I waited until I heard him profane his Maker's name three times, and then, my spiritual indignation being roused above all restraint, I went up and kicked him. Yes, I went boldly up and struck him with my foot, and meant to have given him a more severe blow than it was my fortune to inflict. It had, however, the effect of rousing up his corrupt nature to quarrelling and strife, instead of taking the chastisement of the Lord in humility and meekness. He ran furiously against me in the choler that is always inspired by the wicked one; but I overthrew him, by reason of impeding the natural and rapid progress of his unholy feet, running to destruction. I also fell slightly; but his fall proving a severe one, he arose in wrath, and struck me with the mall which he held in his hand, until my blood flowed copiously; and from that moment I vowed his destruction in my heart. But


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It is the great royal command of Phra Bat Somdet Phra Paramin Maha Chulalongkorn Phra Chunlachomklao Chaoyuhua decreeing to all that the following be announced for general knowledge: Whereas He entertains an opinion that after the Council of State has been ordered to consult together and compose the provisions of a new act on criminal procedure to replace the ancient procedural laws and ordinances still in force in this Kingdom of Siam, the examination of the draft of this new criminal procedure act needs to be delayed and would not be finished in time for its scheduled promulgation, whilst criminal cases pending trial are now increasing a great deal, not to mention new cases which would be brought before the courts of criminal jurisdiction, making it appropriate to first finalise them at once;

Therefore, He orders with His gracious pleasure that the following criminal procedure act be enacted for provisional use:

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 I chanced to have no weapon at that time, nor any means of inflicting due punishment on the caitiff, which would not have been returned double on my head, by him and his graceless associates. I mixed among them at the suggestion of my friend, and following them to their den of voluptuousness and sin, I strove to be admitted among them, in hopes of finding some means of accomplishing my great purpose, while I found myself moved by the spirit within me so to do. But I was not only debarred, but, by the machinations of my wicked brother and his associates, cast into prison.

I was not sorry at being thus honoured to suffer in the cause of righteousness, and at the hands of sinful men; and as soon as I was alone, I betook myself to prayer, deprecating the long-suffering of God toward such horrid sinners. My jailer came to me, and insulted me. He was a rude unprincipled fellow, partaking much of the loose and carnal manners of the age; but I remembered of having read, in the Cloud of Witnesses, of such men formerly, having been converted by the imprisoned saints; so I set myself, with all my heart, to bring about this man's repentance and reformation.


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As soon as the girl heard that, she became ill, and Master Grab went to great lengths to wake her up with sprays of cold water. When Narizinho woke up, the frog said:

— Come on, girl! Don't be weak. We must warn the prince while there's still time.

Narizinho, with tears in her eyes, thanked the frog for his warning and ran off towards the prince's chambers. There, she banged on the door furiously. The prince, startled, jumped out of bed sword in hand and, seeing Narizinho in her nightgown, was even more astonished.

— Hurry, Prince! They're plotting against our lives!" she said. And she unraveled the whole story told by the frog. The prince listened in si-


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 "Fat the deil are ye yoolling an' praying that gate for, man?" said he, coming angrily in. "I thought the days o' praying prisoners had been a' ower. We had rowth o' them aince; an' they were the poorest an' the blackest bargains that ever poor jailers saw. Gie up your crooning, or I'll pit you to an in-by place, where ye sall get plenty o't."

"Friend," said I, "I am making my appeal at that bar where all human actions are seen and judged, and where you shall not be forgot, sinful as you are. Go in peace, and let me be."

"Hae ye naebody nearer-hand hame to mak your appeal to, man?" said he; "because an ye hae-na, I dread you an' me may be unco weel acquaintit by an' by?"

I then opened up the mysteries of religion to him in a clear and perspicuous manner, but particularly the great doctrine of the election of grace; and then I added, "Now, friend, you must tell me if you pertain to this chosen number. It is in every man's power to ascertain this, and it is every man's duty to do it."

"An' fat the better wad you be for the kenning o' this, man?" said he.


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 lence, his face tight. Then, after a few moments' meditation, he said very calmly:

— I'm used to fighting and I know how to defend myself. Go back to your room and sleep soundly. I'll punish the criminals tonight.

S soon as dawn broke, Narizinho jumped out of bed, anxious to know what had happened. The prince, as soon as the girl had gone to bed, took his weapons and went to the guardroom, step by step. And through the keyhole he discovered the captain in conference with two traitorous crickets. — You two, he said, go to the palace now, climb through the window, enter the prince's room and tie him to the bed, while I go and arrange the rest of the party with Scorpio. Let's go! We can't be too careful!..


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were now in Martial N. latitude 57°, in a comparatively open part of the narrow sea which encloses the northern land-belt, and to the south-eastward lay the only channel by which this sea communicates with the main ocean of the southern hemisphere. Along this we took our course. Rather against Ergimo's advice, I insisted on remaining on the surface, as the sea was tolerably calm. Eveena, with her usual self-suppression, professed to prefer the free air, the light of the long day, and such amusement as the sight of an occasional sea-monster or shoal of fishes afforded, to the fainter light and comparative monotony of submarine travelling. Ergimo, who had in his time commanded the hunters of the Arctic Sea, was almost as completely exempt as myself from sea-sickness; but I was surprised to find that the crew disliked, and, had they ventured, would have grumbled at, the change, being so little accustomed to any long superficial voyage as to suffer like landsmen from rough weather. The difference between sailing on and below the surface is so great, both in comfort and in the kind of skill and knowledge required, that the seamen of passenger and of mercantile vessels are classes much more distinct than those of the mercantile and


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 national marine of England, or any other maritime Power on Earth. I consented readily that, except on the rare occasions when the heavens were visible, the short night, from the fall of the evening to the dissipation of the morning mists, should be passed under water. I have said that gales are comparatively rare and the tides insignificant; but the narrow and exceedingly long channels of the Martial seas, with the influence of a Solar movement from north to south more extensive though slower than that which takes place between our Winter and Summer Solstices, produce currents, atmospheric and oceanic, and sudden squalls that often give rise to that worst of all disturbances of the surface, known as a "chopping sea." When we crossed the tropic and came fairly into the channel separating the western coast of the continent on which the Astronaut had landed from the eastern seabord of that upon whose southern coast I was presently to disembark, this disturbance was even worse than, except on peculiarly disagreeable occasions, in the Straits of Dover. After enduring this for two or three hours, I observed that Eveena had stolen from her seat beside me on the deck.

Since we left Askinta her spirits had been unusually variable. She had been sometimes lively and almost excitable; more generally quiet, depressed, and silent even beyond her wont. Still, her manner and bearing were always so equable, gentle, and docile that, accustomed to the caprices of the sex on Earth, I had hardly noticed the change. I thought, however, that she was to-day nervous and somewhat pale; and as she did not return, after permitting the pilot to seek a calmer stratum at some five fathoms depth, I followed Eveena


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 into our cabin or chamber. Standing with her back to the entrance and with a goblet to her lips, she did not hear me till I had approached within arm's length. She then started violently, so agitated that the colour faded at once from her countenance, leaving it white as in a swoon, then as suddenly returning, flushed her neck and face, from the emerald shoulder clasps to the silver snood, with a pink deeper than that of her robe.

"I am very sorry I startled you," I said. "You are certainly ill, or you would not be so easily upset."

I laid my hand as I spoke on her soft tresses, but she withdrew from the touch, sinking down among the cushions. Leaving her to recover her composure, I took up the half-empty cup she had dropped on the central table. Thirsty myself, I had almost drained without tasting it, when a little half-stifled cry of dismay checked me. The moment I removed the cup from my mouth I perceived its flavour—the unmistakable taste of the dravadoné ("courage cup"), so disagreeable to us both, which we had shared on our bridal evening. Wetting with one drop the test-stone attached to my watch-chain, it presented the local discoloration indicating the narcotic poison which is the chief ingredient of this compound.

"I don't think this is wise, child," I said, turning once more to Eveena. To my amazement, far from having recovered the effect of her surprise, she was yet more overcome than at first; crouching among the cushions with her head bent down over her knees, and covering her face with her hands. Reclining in the soft pile, I held her in my arms, overcoming perforce what seemed hysterical reluctance; but when I would


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 have withdrawn the little hands, she threw herself on my knee, burying her face in the cushions.

"It is very wicked," she sobbed; "I cannot ask you to forgive me."

"Forgive what, my child? Eveena, you are certainly ill. Calm yourself, and don't try to talk just now."

"I am not ill, I assure you," she faltered, resisting the arm that sought to raise her; "but "

In my hands, however, she was powerless as an infant; and I would hear nothing till I held her gathered within my arm and her two hands fast in my right. Now that I could look into the face she strove to avert, it was clear that she was neither hysterical nor simply ill; her agitation, however unreasonable and extravagant, was real.

"What troubles you, my own? I promise you not to say one word of reproach; I only want to understand with what you so bitterly reproach yourself."

"But you cannot help being angry," she urged, "if you understand what I have done. It is the charny, which I never tasted till that night, and never ought to have tasted again. I know you cannot forgive me; only take my fault for granted, and don't question me."

These incoherent words threw the first glimpse of light on the meaning of her distress and penitence. I doubt if the best woman in Christendom would so reproach and abase herself, if convicted of even a worse sin than the secret use of those stimulants for which the charny is a Martial equivalent. No Martialist would dream of poisoning his blood and besotting his brain with alcohol in any form. But their opiates


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The prince hadn't even heard this and was already running back to his room. He opened the window through which the traitors would enter and put a trapdoor cage underneath, so that whoever jumped in would fall prisoner. And he waited. A moment later, he heard muffled voices outside and then three heads peering in at the window, very suspicious. The conspirators stood listening for a moment. Then, certain that the prince was sound asleep, they jumped inside and... they fell into the cage!

The prince immediately grabbed a padlock and locked the cage door tight. The crickets, so astonished, had their mouths hanging open and couldn't speak. The prince said nothing. He left the room and went to wake up a faithful cricket, telling him:

— Go and find the captain of the guard and tell him quietly in his ear: — "The three emissaries have sent you to say that the "deal" is done, but they need you to be present in the prince's room". Say it quietly and get out!

The messenger cricket went in search of the captain and found him prowling around the monster's prison. He approached him and repeated the message in his ear. The captain wanted to ask more questions, but by the time he opened his mouth, the messenger had gone.


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 affect a race addicted to physical repose, to sensuous enjoyment rather than to sensual excitement, and to lucid intellectual contemplation, with a sense of serene delight as supremely delicious to their temperament as the dreamy illusions of haschisch to the Turk, the fierce frenzy of bhang to the Malay, or the wild excitement of brandy or Geneva to the races of Northern Europe. But as with the luxury of intoxication in Europe, so in Mars indulgence in these drugs, freely permitted to the one sex, is strictly forbidden by opinion and domestic rule to the other. A lady discovered in the use of charny is as deeply disgraced as an European matron detected in the secret enjoyment of spirits and cigars; and her lord and master takes care to render her sufficiently conscious of her fault.

And there was something stranger here than a violation of the artificial restraint of sex. Slightly and seldom as the Golden Circle touches the lines defining personal or social morality—carefully as the Founder has abstained from imposing an ethical code of his own, or attaching to his precepts any rule not directly derived from the fundamental tenets or necessary to the cohesion of the Order—he had expressed in strong terms his dread and horror of narcotism; the use for pleasure's sake, not to relieve pain or nervous excitement, of drugs which act, as he said, through the brain upon the soul. His judgment, expressed with unusual directness and severity and enforced by experience, has become with his followers a tradition not less imperative than the most binding of their laws. It was so held, above all, in that household in which Eveena and I had first learnt the "lore of the Starlight." Esmo, indeed, regarded not


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 merely as an unscientific superstition, but as blasphemous folly, the rejection of any means of restoring health or relieving pain which Providence has placed within human reach. But he abhorred the use for pleasure's sake of poisons affirmed to reduce the activity and in the long-run to impair the energies of the mind, and weaken the moral sense and the will, more intensely than the strictest follower of the Arabian Prophet abhors the draughts which deprive man of the full use of the senses, intelligence, and conscience which Allah has bestowed, and degrade him below the brute, Esmo's children, moreover, were not more strictly compelled to respect the letter than carefully instructed in the principle of every command for which he claimed their obedience.

But in such measure as Eveena's distress became intelligible, the fault of which she accused herself became incredible. I could not believe that she could be wilfully disloyal to me—still less that she could have suddenly broken through the fixed ideas of her whole life, the principles engraved on her mind by education more stringently than the maxims of the Koran or the Levitical Law on the children of Ishmael or of Israel; and this while the impressive rites of Initiation, the imprecation at which I myself had shuddered, were fresh in her memory—their impression infinitely deepened, moreover, by the awful mystery of that Vision of which even yet we were half afraid to speak to one another. While I hesitated to reply, gathering up as well as I could the thread of these thoughts as they passed in a few seconds through my mind, my left hand touched an object hidden in my bride's zone. I


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 drew out a tiny crystal phial three parts full, taken, as I saw, from the medicine-chest Esmo had carefully stocked and as carefully fastened. As, holding this, I turned again to her, Eveena repeated: "Punish, but don't question me!"

"My own," I said, "you are far more punished already than you deserve or I can bear to see. How did you get this?"

Releasing her hands, she drew from the folds of her robe the electric keys, which, by a separate combination, would unlock each of my cases;—without which it was impossible to open or force them.

"Yes, I remember; and you were surprised that I trusted them to you. And now you expect me to believe that you have abused that trust, deceived me, broken a rule which in your father's house and by all our Order is held sacred as the rings of the Signet, for a drug which twelve days ago you disliked as much as I?"

"It is true."

The words were spoken with downcast eyes, in the low faltering tone natural to a confession of disgrace.

"It is not true, Eveena; or if true in form, false in matter. If it were possible that you could wish to deceive me, you knew it could not be for long."

"I meant to be found out," she interrupted, "only not yet."

She had betrayed herself, stung by words that seemed to express the one doubt she could not nerve herself to endure—doubt of her loyalty to me. Before I could speak, she looked up hastily, and began to retract. I stopped her.


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— Good! He exclaimed. The tyrant is now dead! I'll go there now and tear his liver out with my own nails. And rubbing his hands together, he ran into the palace. He saw the prince's bedroom window open and went up the stairs that the others had left. When he reached the last step, he jumped into the room. But before he reached the floor, he felt a pain in his chest. Ouch! Ouch! He shouted. It was the prince who had struck him in the air with his terrible sword.

— Wretch! Here, for the just punishment of your disloyalty!" said the prince, cutting off his head with another stroke of his sword. The captain's body convulsed on the carpet for a few moments, next to his head, whose eyes were etched with astonishment at the unforeseen outcome of the conspiracy.

The prince, sheathing his sword, summoned some loyal soldiers to bring out the cage with the three traitors.

— Put the Scorpion inside with these traitors, tie a large stone on top of the cage and throw it into the lake.

The guards did so and the monster, instead of marrying Narizinho and ascending to a throne, went into a watery grave...

— Well done! Said the girl when she heard about the punishment. So may the whole race of traitors die! And she ran to congratulate the victorious prince, who hugged her and kissed her on the forehead, moved.


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the admirably appointed, white-enamelled, wickerworked, bemirrored lounge of the best hotel of that town Sylvia Tietjens sat in a wickerwork chair, not listening rather abstractedly to a staff-major who was lachrymosely and continuously begging her to leave her bedroom door unlocked that night. She said: "I don't know Yes, perhaps I don't know And looked distantly into a bluish wall-mirror that, like all the rest, was framed with white-painted cork bark. She stiffened a little and said:

"There's Christopher!"

The staff-major dropped his hat, his stick and his gloves. His black hair, which was without parting and heavy with some preparation of a glutinous kind, moved agitatedly on his scalp. He had been saying that Sylvia had ruined his life. Didn't Sylvia know that she had ruined his life? But for her he might have married some pure young thing. Now he exclaimed:

"But what does he want Good God what does he want?"

"He wants," Sylvia said, "to play the part of Jesus Christ."

Major Perowne exclaimed:

"Jesus Christ But he's the most foul-mouthed officer in the general's command


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 — You saved my kingdom. As a reward, you will receive the crown of princess and sit on the throne beside me as the most adored of wives," he said, putting the bridal ring on her finger.

Narizinho felt immense joy and, all agitated, was about to reply, when a familiar voice woke her up:

— Narizinho, Grandma's calling!

The little girl sat down on the grass, rubbed her eyes, saw the stream flowing as usual and her old aunt at the gate with her scarf tied around her head.

What a shame! It had all been a beautiful dream...


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 {|
 * colspan=2|
 * -style="vertical-align:top;"
 * In arresting a person who commits an offence carrying a high punishment under a law or ordinance, he shall not be apprehended or detained for trial without the legally responsible judge having issued a warrant for his arrest, save where he is arrested whilst committing the offence carrying a high punishment under a law or ordinance or he is suspected to have committed the offence carrying a high punishment under a law or ordinance and to be about to abscond, in which event no warrant of arrest is required to be issued first. In addition, in such warrant of arrest, a brief statement must also be made indicating what the offence carrying a high punishment under a law or ordinance which he is suspected to have committed is, as well as when and where it was committed.
 * -style="vertical-align:top;"
 * If any person has been apprehended successfully, he shall be sent to a state gaolhouse and have his name recorded in a book of accounts by an official, who shall also note down every time
 * }
 * If any person has been apprehended successfully, he shall be sent to a state gaolhouse and have his name recorded in a book of accounts by an official, who shall also note down every time
 * }

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 "Well," Sylvia said, "if you had married your pure young thing she'd have What is it cuckolded you within nine months

Perowne shuddered a little at the word. He mumbled:

"I don't see It seems to be the other way

"Oh, no, it isn't," Sylvia said. "Think it over Morally, you're the husband Immorally, I should say Because he's the man I want He looks ill Do hospital authorities always tell wives what is the matter with their husbands?"

From his angle in the chair from which he had half-emerged Sylvia seemed to him to be looking at a blank wall.

"I don't see him," Perowne said.

"I can see him in the glass," Sylvia said. "Look! From here you can see him."

Perowne shuddered a little more.

"I don't want to see him I have to see him sometimes in the course of duty I don't like to

Sylvia said:

"You," in a tone of very deep contempt. "You only carry chocolate boxes to flappers How can he come across you in the course of duty You're not a soldier!"

Perowne said:

"But what are we going to do? What will he do?"

"I," Sylvia answered, "shall tell the page-boy when he comes with his card to say that I'm engaged I don't know what he'll do. Hit you, very likely He's looking at your back now

Perowne became rigid, sunk into his deep chair.


text: Translation:The girl with a turned up nose/Chapter 6


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 CHAPTER VIII EARLY HISTORY; BENGAL AND THE BAY

" Thus the midday halt of Charnock— more's the pity ! Grew a city." Kipling, Departmental Ditties. A Tale of two Cities.

The Company's first factory in that part of India, which until 1 912 was under the Government of Bengal, was at Patna. It was started by Robert Hughes, on 3rd July, 1620, and closed on 13th Sept., 1 62 1. Hughes was one of the Factors sent from Surat to Agra, whence he went on to Patna ; and the estabhshment of this early factory had no connection with the Bay, or with the gradual settlement of the Enghsh in Bengal proper.*

Foster f gives the following account of the first Enghsh visit to and settlement in Orissa. In the spring of 1633 two Enghsh merchants, Cartwright and CoUey, and six Enghsh sailors, among whom was WiUiam Bruton, quartermaster of the Hopewell, who pubhshed an account of the journey, { left MasuUpatam in a country ship for the northwards. On Easter day, 21st April, they reached " Harssapoore," or Harispur, in the Mahanadi delta. Cartwright and the other Enghshmen started on 27th April for Cuttack, to visit Agha Muhammad Zaman, who had lately suc- ceeded Baqir Khan as Subadar or Viceroy of Orissa. From him they obtained, on 5th May, a parwana to trade free of custom, and to build houses and ships. They returned to Hariharpur, half- way between Cuttack and Harispur, and summoning the other Englishmen from Harispur, proceeded to build a factory at Hariharpur. On i6th June, Cartwright and two others started for Balasore, leaving in charge at Hariharpur CoUey, who died there on 25th Aug. The factors at Masulipatam, where John Norris was

f Ihid. 1630-33, pp. XXX, xxxii.
 * Foster, English Factories in India, 1618-21, pp. xxiii, xxiv.

t See note to Chap. V, The Legend of Gabriel Boughton.


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 "But he couldn't!" he exclaimed agitatedly. "You said that he was playing the part of Jesus Christ. Our Lord wouldn't hit people in an hotel lounge

"Our Lord!" Sylvia said contemptuously. "What do you know about our Lord Our Lord was a gentleman Christopher is playing at being our Lord calling on the woman taken in adultery He's giving me the social backing that his being my husband seems to him to call for."

A one-armed, bearded maître d'hôtel approached them through groups of arm-chairs arranged for tête-à-tête. He said:

"Pardon I did not see madame at first And displayed a card on a salver. Without looking at it, Sylvia said:

"Dîtes à ce monsieur that I am occupied." The maître d'hôtel moved austerely away.

"But he'll smash me to pieces Perowne exclaimed. "What am I to do What the deuce am I to do?" There would have been no way of exit for him except across Tietjens' face.

With her spine very rigid and the expression of a snake that fixes a bird, Sylvia gazed straight in front of her and said nothing until she exclaimed:

"For God's sake leave off trembling He would not do anything to a girl like you He's a man The wickerwork of Perowne's chair had been crepitating as if it had been in a railway car. The sound ceased with a jerk Suddenly she clenched both her hands and let out a hateful little breath of air between her teeth.

"By the immortal saints," she exclaimed, "I swear I'll make his wooden face wince yet."


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Rh assassins sent by Chriemhild, expecting no sentinel: it is plain that the last hour draws nigh.

In the morning the Nibelungen are for the Minster to hear mass; they are putting on gay raiment; but Hagen tells them a different tale: “ye must take other garments, Recken; instead of silk shirts hauberks, for rich mantles your good shields; and, beloved masters, moreover squires and men, ye shall full earnestly go to the church, and plain to God the powerful (Got dem rîchen) of your sorrow and utmost need; and know of a surety that death for us is nigh.’” In Etzel’s Hall, where the Nibelungen appear at the royal feast in complete armour, the Strife, incited by Chriemhild, begins; the first answer to her provocation is from Hagen, who hews off the head of her own and Etzel’s son, making it bound into the mother’s bosom; “then began among the Recken a murder grim and great.” Dietrich, with a voice of preternatural power, commands pause; retires with Etzel and Chriemhild; and now the bloody work has free course. We have heard of battles, and massacres, and deadly struggles in siege and storm; but seldom has even the poet’s imagination pictured anything so fierce and terrible as this. Host after host, as they enter that huge vaulted Hall, perish in conflict with the doomed Nibelungen; and ever after the terrific uproar, ensues a still more terrific silence. All night and through morning it lasts. They throw the dead from the windows; blood runs like water; the Hall is set fire to, they quench it with blood, their own burning thirst they slake with blood. It is a tumult like the Crack of Doom, a thousand-voiced, wild-stunning hubbub; and, frightful like a Trump of Doom, the Sword-fiddlebow of Volker, who guards the door, makes music to that death-dance. Nor are traits of heroism wanting, and thrilling tones of pity and love; as in that act of Rudiger, Etzel’s and Chriemhild’s champion, who, bound by oath, “lays his soul in God’s hand,” and enters that Golgotha to die fighting against his friends; yet first changes shields with Hagen, whose own, also given him by Rudiger in a far other hour, had been shattered in the fight. “When he so lovingly bade give him the shield, there


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 In the bluish looking-glass, a few minutes before, she had seen the agate-blue eyes of her husband, thirty feet away, over arm-chairs and between the fans of palms. He was standing, holding a riding-whip, looking rather clumsy in the uniform that did not suit him. Rather clumsy and worn out, but completely expressionless! He had looked straight into the reflection of her eyes and then looked away. He moved so that his profile was towards her, and continued gazing motionless at an elk's head that decorated the space of wall above glazed doors giving into the interior of the hotel. The hotel servant approaching him, he had produced a card and had given it to the servant, uttering three words. She saw his lips move in the three words: Mrs. Christopher Tietjens. She said, beneath her breath:

"Damn his chivalry Oh, God damn his chivalry!" She knew what was going on in his mind. He had seen her, with Perowne, so he had neither come towards her nor directed the servant to where she sat. For fear of embarrassing her! He would leave it to her to come to him if she wished.

The servant, visible in the mirror, had come and gone deviously back, Tietjens still gazing at the elk's head. He had taken the card and restored it to his pocket-book and then had spoken to the servant. The servant had shrugged his shoulders with the formal hospitality of his class and, with his shoulders still shrugged and his one hand pointing towards the inner door, had preceded Tietjens into the hotel. Not one line of Tietjens' face had moved when he had received back his card. It had been then that Sylvia had sworn that she would yet make his wooden face wince


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 His face was intolerable. Heavy; fixed. Not insolent, but simply gazing over the heads of all things and created beings, into a word too distant for them to enter And yet it seemed to her, since he was so clumsy and worn out, almost not sporting to persecute him. It was like whipping a dying bulldog

She sank back into her chair with a movement almost of discouragement. She said:

"He's gone into the hotel

Perowne lurched agitatedly forward in his chair. He exclaimed that he was going. Then he sank discouragedly back again:

"No, I'm not," he said, "I'm probably much safer here. I might run against him going out."

"You've realized that my petticoats protect you," Sylvia said contemptuously. "Of course, Christopher would never hit anyone in my presence."

Major Perowne was interrupting her by asking:

"What's he going to do? What's he doing in the hotel?"

Mrs. Tietjens said:

"Guess!" She added: "What would you do in similar circumstances?"

"Go and wreck your bedroom," Perowne answered with promptitude. "It's what I did when I found you had left Yssingueux."

Sylvia said:

"Ah, that was what the place was called."

Perowne groaned:

"You're callous," he said. "There's no other word for it. Callous. That's what you are."

Sylvia asked absently why he called her callous at just that juncture. She was imagining Christopher stumping clumsily along the hotel corridor looking at


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 bedrooms, and then giving the hotel servant a handsome tip to ensure that he should be put on the same floor as herself. She could almost hear his not disagreeable male voice that vibrated a little from the chest and made her vibrate.

Perowne was grumbling on. Sylvia was callous because she had forgotten the name of the Brittany hamlet in which they had spent three blissful weeks together, though she had left it so suddenly that all her outfit remained in the hotel.

"Well, it wasn't any kind of a beanfeast for me," Sylvia went on, when she again gave him her attention.

"Good heavens Do you think it would be any kind of a beanfeast with you, pour tout potage? Why should I remember the name of the hateful place?"

Perowne said:

"Yssingueux-les-Pervenches, such a pretty name," reproachfully.

"It's no good," Sylvia answered, "your trying to awaken sentimental memories in me. You will have to make me forget what you were like if you want to carry on with me I'm stopping here and listening to your corncrake of a voice because I want to wait until Christopher goes out of the hotel Then I am going to my room to tidy up for Lady Sachse's party and you will sit here and wait for me."

"I'm not," Perowne said, "going to Lady Sachse's. Why, he is going to be one of the principal witnesses to sign the marriage contract. And Old Campion and all the rest of the staff are going to be there You don't catch me An unexpected prior engagement is my line. No fear."

"You'll come with me, my little man," Sylvia said, "if you ever want to bask in my smile again


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84 imployment of their servants, I therefore humbly beseech your Hon>- to receive me as a Factor, and to give me what imployment you shall think suitable for me, wherein I shall behave and deport myself w^h that fidellity care and delhgence that my future services shall approve themselves not unworthy of this your great favour & liindness, and as I am in duty bound to be a faithful servant to my Honble Masters, soe I lie under no less Obligation to your selves as my benefactors, then of approving myself with all gratitude and thankfulness. Honble Your most humble'& Obed^' Servant, John Heathfield —Fort St. George, 20th May, 1685."

Heathfield died on 2nd April, 1688, aged 43 years 5 months and 27 days, and was buried in the graveyard round St. Mary's Church, where his tombstone may still be seen. The Cons. of 15th April, 1679, note that he had married, at Masulipatam, the widow of Mr. Robert Fleetwood, a servant of the Company, who had died there insolvent. Fleetwood had taken for three years a lease of the town of Narsapuram, a proceeding contrary to the orders of the Company. Heathfield was ordered to give up the farm, which he promised to do, the lease expiring in the following month. His wife, Margery, was godmother to Job Charnock's children born at Madras. In a table showing the quit-rents of houses in Madras, in the Cons, of 2nd Aug., 1688, the "widdow Heathfield" is shown as occupying a house in Middle Street, at a quit-rent of two pagodas a year. She must have been left weU off, as the only higher quit-rent is that of the President's house in the same street, three pagodas. Besides this house in Whitetown, she also owned a garden house in Peddanaikpetta, which she sold to the weavers of Madras in 1707. She survived her husband for thirty-five years, dying in 1723. In the lists of inhabitants of Madras for Dec, 1701, and Dec, 1702, the name of Theophila Heathfield appears in the list of young women unmarried. Another daughter, Corneha, married Charles Bugden, a civilian of 1692, and after his death became the wife, in 1713, of another civilian, Richard Horden, who joined in 1702.

Other Surgeons on the Coast during the later years of the seventeenth century, whose names have been preserved in the Fort St. George Cons. and elsewhere, are—

1. Edward Bulkley, see below.

2. Isaac Dunn, Surgeon at Masulipatam, 12th Oct., 1682; at Madapollam 17th Nov., 1687.


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Author talk:Oliver Mathews

Hearn's blackletter typography
In the 1722 printing of Mathews' works by Thomas Hearn, the text is set in a blackletter font, and it seems to use R rotunda interchangeably with ordinary letter 'r's. It might be worth creating a new template, along the lines of ls, for these r rotundas. -- Yodin T 17:28, 22 November 2023 (UTC)
 * EDIT: just found r rotunda, which seems perfect for this case. -- Yodin T 19:51, 22 November 2023 (UTC)
 * blpo could also be useful. -- Yodin T 00:43, 21 December 2023 (UTC)

title: Author talk:Oliver Mathews


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lx were eyes enough red with hot tears; it was the last gift which Rudiger of Bechelaren gave to any Recke. As grim as Hagen was, and as hard of mind, he wept at this gift which the hero good, so near his last times, had given him; full many a noble Ritter began to weep.”

At last Volker is slain; they are all slain, save only Hagen and Gunther, faint and wounded, yet still unconquered among the bodies of the dead. Dietrich the wary, though strong and invincible, whose Recken too, except old Hildebrand, he now finds are all killed, though he had charged them strictly not to mix in the quarrel, at last arms himself to finish it. He subdues the two wearied Nibelungen, binds them, delivers them to Chriemhild; “and Herr Dietrich went away with weeping eyes, worthily from the heroes.” These never saw each other more. Chriemhild demands of Hagen, Where the Nibelungen Hoard is? But he answers her, that he has sworn never to disclose it, while any of her brothers live. “I bring it to an end,” said the infuriated woman; orders her brother’s head to be struck off, and holds it up to Hagen. “‘Thou hast it now according to thy will,’ said Hagen; ‘of the Hoard knoweth none but God and I; from thee, she-devil (valendinne), shall it forever be hid.’” She kills him with his own sword, once her husband’s; and is herself struck dead by Hildebrand, indignant at the woe she has wrought; King Etzel, there present, not opposing the deed. Whereupon the curtain drops over that wild scene: “the full highly honoured were lying dead; the people all had sorrow and lamentation; in grief had the king’s feast ended, as all love is wont to do:”

Ine chan iu nicht bescheiden Waz sider da geschach,

Wan ritter unde wrouven Weinen man do sach,

Dar-zuo die edeln chnechte Ir lieben vriunde tot:

Da hat das mære ein ende: Dis ist der Nibelunge not.

I cannot say you now What hath befallen since;

The women all were weeping, And the Ritters and the prince,

Also the noble squires, Their dear friends lying dead:

Here hath the story ending; This is the Nibelungen’s Need.


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Rh 3. James Grudgfield, appointed Surgeon at Vizagapatam on 12th July, 1683. The Cons. of that date note-

"The Chief and Councill at Madapollam having made itt their request that Dr Grudgfield might be entertained at Vizagapatam ffactory, because they are so far off from thence, that if the Doctor now belonging to both ffactorys should be att Vizagapatam, they might be in great danger of their lives, for want of helpe before he could come to them, the ffactorys being at a considerable distance, which being taken into consideration itt is ordered that the said Doctor do attend Vizagapatam ffactory allowing him £20 p. annum Sallary and no more, and that att all leasure times he assist in the writing businesse."

Grudgfield was transferred to "Coodaloor on 9th May, 1684. In April, 1688, he was still at that factory, and petitioned for the allowance of four pagodas a month which he had drawn at Vizagapatam for assisting in the clerical work. He died some time within the next five months; for a list of inhabitants of Fort St. George at the end of Sept., 1688, includes the name of Penelope Grudgfield, widow.*

4. John Plummer, Surgeon's Mate of the Royal James, appointed to Fort St. George 28th July, 1684, went home on the Royal James 6th May, 1688.

5. William Warren, at Madras, in 1684; transferred to Bengal 4th July, 1698, again in Madras in Jan., 1710/11.

6. Francis Perce, Doctor's Mate of the ,Rochester, appointed Surgeon at Fort St. George, 9th Feb., 1685.

7. Henry Watson, arrived 16th June, 1685, served also in Bengal.

8. Mr. Atkins, Surgeon at Masulipatam and Pettipolli, died Feb., 1684/85.

9. Edmund Payntell, appointed to succeed Atkins, 10th Dec., 1685.

10. James Burley, late Chirurgeon of the Rose, appointed Surgeon at the Fort 5th Sept., 1687, to succeed Plummer.

11. Bernard Ozler, late Surgeon of the Loyal Adventure, which was wrecked at Madras on 7th Oct., 1687, appointed 16th Oct., 1687.

12. Walter Stewart, a physician who had come out as a private soldier, allowed to purchase his discharge and to practise at Madras, 2nd Jan., 1687/88.†

† For Walter Stewart, sec also Chap. XV, The Double Commissions.
 * Grudgfield had previously served at Bombay from 1676-80, at least. See Chap. VI, Early History; Surat, Persia, Bombay, and the West.


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86 13. Samuel Browne, appointed 7th May, 1688. See below.

14. Richard Blackwall, appointed 24th June, 1689. See below.

15. Samuel Hart, appointed Surgeon at Hugli 17th Aug., 1686; came to Madras with the other Bengal officials in Feb., 1688/89, and then appointed Surgeon of Fort St. George. The Cons, of 29th Dec, 1692, order his discharge, on the arrival of Bulkley from England. Hart continued to hve at Madras for many years. His name is shown in the lists of inhabitants, not Company's servants, up to Dec, 1707. He was thrice married. In May, 1693, his name is entered among the freemen inhabitants of Madras, with the note, "Married a Georgian." For several years, prior to and including 1706, he is entered as "Married a Casteez," i.e. a Portuguese woman of pure European descent. In Dec, 1707, he is shown as "married an English- woman." Two children, Elizabeth and Susanna Hart, are entered in the lists for that month. This is the last hst which contains his name.

16. Rowland Jones, Doctor's Mate, died 15th April, 1690.

17. Robert Cooper, Surgeon, died 21st July, 1690.

18. Thomas Faucet, appointed 23rd Nov., 1692. See below.

19. Joseph Royall, or Royer, appointed as Assistant to Dr. Faucet at Fort St. David, nth May, 1696, succeeded Faucet as Surgeon there in 1699, died there in Aug., 1703.

20. John Cotter, Surgeon at Vizagapatam, in list of Jan., 1696/97. Ten years before, in Jan., 1686/87, John Cotter, Surgeon of the Dragon, probably the same man, had been removed from his ship for mutiny. According to the evidence, his crime, though perhaps technically mutiny, seems rather to have been attempted desertion.

21. Edward Rawdon, appointed Mate to Dr. Bulkley, 13th Jan., 1697/98; Assay Master, 29th Sept., 1699.

22. Charles Verrall, apprentice to Dr. Bulkley, 12th Aug., 1700.

23. Michael Gray, Surgeon at Masulipatam, transferred to Fort St. David by order of Court dated 31st July, 1702, and subsequently to Calcutta, 20th Aug., 1705.

A few of these Surgeons deserve somewhat fuller notice—Bulkley, Browne, Blackwall, and Faucet. Further particulars about Warren, Watson, and Gray are given in Chap. VIII; Early History; Bengal and the Bay.


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Rh The Cons, of 18th Sept., 1678, mention a French Chyrururgeon Fransi5sco Cutineth, living in Black Town. He was called before the Council, who associated Bezahel Sherman with them to hear the case, to give evidence about the death of a private soldier, named John Ballance, whom he had attended, who died from the effect of blows given by Corporal Henry Law.

At the beginning of the year 1687 the Council of Fort St. George were anticipating an attack by the troops of the Great Mogul, i.e. Aurangzeb, who was then invading Golkonda. The Cons, of 2ist Feb., 1686/87, contain orders regarding the duties of various members of the community in case of an attack, including the medical officers. f

"Doctr Willmot & Hummer's charge is vizt. To provide and make Salves for wounds, and to bee as sparing of the Small Chirurgery Box on the Rebecca as they can, that we may not want upon great occasion.

"There being a sett of large Chirurgeons Instruments att Metchlepatam which may bee useful here, upon any expedition, Itt is ordered that Mr Freeman &ca bee wrot to, to send them hither."

The Cons, of 2nd Sept., 1689, record a payment to a Dutch Surgeon.

Francis Bett having by distemper and distraction lately wounded himselfe at Porto Novo factory, whereby for want of a Surgeon they were necessitated to call the Dutch Surgeon to his rehefe, & cure, which being charged to him, he requests that as being the Compas Servt it may be allowed by the Rt Honble Compa wch being consider'd and that twas his owne rash Act, tis order'd that he bear the halfe charge thereof, & that the cheife do allow the other halfe thereof."

The following medical certificate, entered in the Cons, of 16th Aug., 1693, is probably the earliest such certificate given in India which has survived. J

"We the subscribers having according to your Orders visited Mr John Nicks, find him very much indisposed by a Chilly numbness in his feet and hands, and an oppression in his Brest and Stomach which is a hindrance both to his speech and breathing, these symptoms in all probability are occasioned by melancholy, want of exercise, and his being oblidge

 * Colin Mackenzie MSS., Vol. LII. The Cons, of this year are missing in the Fort St. George Factory Records.

t Factory Records. Fort St. George, Vol. IV. The passage is quoted in Wheeler's Madras in the Olden Time, Vol. I, p. 169.

X Colin Mackenzie MSS., Vol. LVI. The Cons, from January, 1690/91, to January, 1692/93, are missing from the Fort St. George Factory Records. This certificate, and the note about Francis Bett, are both given by Love, Vol. I, pp. 529 and 564.


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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII.

THE LITTLE MILK-MAID.

BY ANNIE ARNOLD.

Mrs. Austin was, with her son, taking her afternoon drive. The day was very cold. Bnt wrapped closely in furs, the occupants of the luxurious carriage felt not the chilling blast, and cared not for the light cover of snow upon the ground. They were returning from the city, after making purchases, to their own home. It was growing dark, but before them was the pros pect of the large dining-room awaiting them, supper spread, and a fire ready to comfort them for the long ride.

"Mamma!" said Harry, suddenly, "I hoard somebody calling. Stop, John," and he gave the check-string a violent pull, "listen."

Above the noise of the wind came the cry, "Help, for the love of heaven."

Mrs. Austin and Harry left the carriage and followed the voice. They had not gone far before they found the speaker. It was a woman, young nnd pretty, but meanly dressed, who, now sense less, lay stretched out on the road. By her side stood a little girl, some two or three years of age, sobbing and wringing her baby hands, cry ing, "Mamma, open your eyes, mamma."

There was no time for hesitation. John, by his mistress' directions, placed the woman in the carriage, the others followed, and they were driven rapidly home.

Reader, would you like a description of our characters? We will step into the chamber of Mrs. Austin's house, where the woman was car ried, and there we find :

First, Mrs. Austin, a wealthy widow of about thirty. Married at sixteen, she was at nineteen left a widow with a large fortune and a son two years old, the same lad who is now beside her. Still young, she is very handsome. Her figure is tall and stately, her eyes large and dark, her black hair glossy and abundant, and her features delicately cut and regular. She is bending over the stranger found on the road, and trying to restore animation. Harry, now eleven years old, strongly resembles his mother. Kneeling now beside her he is trying to comfort the child, who still weeps bitterly. The little one is beautiful. Her rich, dark curls cluster in pretty rings round a small, well-shaped head, her eyes are large and of a dark, hazel-color, her complexion is slightly tanned by the sun, but the round, white shoul ders show how fair it naturally is. She is dressed in a print frock, has coarse, clumsy shoes, and no stockings; and for a mantle this cold day in early winter, has only a coarse apron of her mother's, while a cape-bonnet covers the pretty curls. Mrs. Austin tried in vain to recall the poor woman to life. The doctor was sent for, and pronounced the cause of her death to be disease of the heart, added to exposure to the cold and extreme fatigue. Her feet, blistered by walking, showed the distance she had travelled. Mrs. Austin paid the expenses of a decent1 funeral, and then turned her attention to the child. Neatly and warmly clothed by her care, the little stranger, who gave her name as "Kate," was a pretty picture, and in the two days before the funeral so won Sirs. Austin's kind heart that she concluded to adopt her, much to Barry's de light. As time passed on, little Kate won her way so completely to her benefactress' heart, that she seemed to divide it equally with Harry. Aunt Lizzie, Mrs. Austin allowed her to call her: and the three were united as if of one blood. As Kate became old enough, annt Lizzie herself undertook her education, and wns well repaid for her trouble by the quickness and intelligence of her little pupil. "When Kate was bnt ten years old, Mrs. Aus tin's health became very feeble, and being advised by the physicians to travel, she con cluded to spend a vear or two in Europe. Her 161


text: Category:Brazilian short stories

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Rh We have now finished our slight analysis of this Poem; and hope that readers who are curious in this matter, and ask themselves, What is the “Nibelungen?” may have here found some outlines of an answer, some help towards farther researches of their own. To such readers another question will suggest itself: Whence this singular production comes to us, When and How it originated? On which point also, what little light our investigation has yielded may be summarily given.

The worthy Von der Hagen, who may well understand the “Nibelungen” better than any other man, having rendered it into the modern tongue, and twice edited it in the original, not without collating some eleven manuscripts, and travelling several thousands of miles to make the last edition perfect,—writes a Book some years ago, rather boldly denominated “The Nibelungen, its Meaning for the present and forever”; wherein, not content with any measurable antiquity of centuries, he would fain claim an antiquity beyond all bounds of dated time. Working his way with feeble mine-lamps of etymology and the like, he traces back the rudiments of his beloved “Nibelungen,” “to which the flower of his whole life has been consecrated,” into the thick darkness of the Scandinavian “Niflheim ” and “Muspelheim,” and the Hindoo Cosmogony; connecting it farther (as already in part we have incidentally pointed out) with the Ship Argo, with Jupiter’s goatskin Ægis, the fire-creed of Zerdusht, and even with the heavenly Constellations. His reasoning is somewhat abstruse; yet an honest zeal, very considerable learning and intellectual force bring him tolerably through. So much he renders plausible or probable: that in the “Nibelungen,” under more or less defacement, lie fragments, scattered like mysterious Runes, yet still in part decipherable, of the earliest Thoughts of men; that the fiction of the Nibelungen was at first a religious or philosophical Mythus; and only in later ages, incorporating itself more or less completely with vague traditions of real events, took the form of a story, or mere Narrative of earthly transactions; in which last form, moreover, our actual “Nibelungen Lied” is nowise the


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88 HISTORY OF THE INDIAN MEDICAL SERVICE

procS his^S^^'' ^^'"^ '^^"P^ ^P^^d^^y ^«°^<^did (since it ap- proches his Stomach) may prove of Dangerous Consequence.

" Edward Bulkley, Samuell Browne."

Edward Bulkley was serving at Pettipoli in Dec, 1682 He seems to have gone home from there. On his return to India he was appointed First Surgeon to Fort St. George, in Cons. of 29th Dec., 1692.

" Ordered that D-^ Bulkeley Chyrurgion (lately come from England) doe enter upon his charge of the Hospitall and take care of the Patients therein, and look after all the medicines and other things carefully that none be spoyled or wasted neghgently, or used for any other end or purpose but those they were intended for. And that he keep an account of all material actions, m a Book that may remayne in the Hospitall to be examined when needful or required. And Doctor Brown is to be continued a Chyrurgion here as before. And in regard of the supply of Chyrurgions from England there is not roome for the continuance of D^ Hart he is to be discharged from that Imployment and the Secretary is to acquaint him therewith."

The above extract is also given in Love's Vestiges of Old Madras, Vol. I, p. 563, where is also quoted a Despatch from England, dated i6th April, 1697, which refers to the appointment of Bulkley, also incidentally mentioning Hart and Browne, and sanctioning the appointment of a coroner at Madras in 1697. The same despatch is quoted by Love at greater length in Vol. II, p. 68, as below.

" Wlaen wee understood M"^ Heathfield was dead, and that you had entertained M'" Hart as a temporary Surgeon in his Stead, we resolved to Supply you as soon and as well as we could, and accordingly sent you, five or six years since, M^" Buckley, one who was every way very fitly qualified to serve us by his large experience of India as well as here, and as fit for prescribing Phisick as manuall operations ; and we suffered him to carry out an apprentice that so he might not Complaine of want of help. And therefore him and him only wee resolve shall receive any Sallery and allowances. . . . And in respect to him wee are willing to allow the Office of Coroner, and such perquisites therewith for sitting on the bodys of any persons that shall come to any untimely end by casuaHty or otherwise, as you shall think fitting, to be paid by the relations of the deceased, considering the poverty of the Generality of your Inhabitants. The usuall ffee here is 6s. 8d., but wee think two Rupees is sufficient where the persons are of Ability. And as for M'^ Browne, if it please God our Surgeon at the ffort, or in the Bay, or elsewhere should die, or be moved. Wee are wilhng M"^ Browne should have the first preference to such a vacancy."

On 30th Aug., 1693, Bulkley performed the post-mortem examination on Mr. Wheeler, accidentally poisoned by Surgeon


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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXXII.

"SWEET SIXTEEN."

BY ANNIE ARNOLD.

Mr. Hepburn was a clergyman and a widower, who lived in the parsonage of the village of Irving. Here he had been married, here his three children were born, here he had lost his wife, and here he hoped himself to lay down the weary burden of his life. His children were all girls, Margaret, Lucy and Lizze, at the time my story opens, of the respective ages of eighteen, fourteen and six. Maggie had been almost a mother to her sisters since they lost their own mother, three years before, and they loved and respected her as her devoted affection deserved they should. She was housekeeper, teacher and friend, the companion of her fathers lonely hours, the confidant of the children, sympathiz ing in all their joys and sorrows, and the darling of all her father's poor parishioners for miles around. Lucy was a bright sunny-haired blonde, full of grace and ease, with a tall, and, for her age, remarkably well- developed figure, a lady like manner, and fine intellect; Lizzie, also a blonde, was the pet of the whole household ser vants, horse and dog included. I must give you some idea of my friend Maggie's appearance, for she was my pet, coming to me, dear, motherless child, in all her difficulties, for advice and sym pathy, and depending with pretty, child-like confidence on my older, if not wiser judgment. She was of medium stature, and very slight, with delicate, pretty hands and feet. Her fea tures were not perfectly regular, yet not by any means ugly; her eyes were large and of a deep hazle; and her hair, glossy and abundant, was of a soft, pretty brown color; her complexion was fair, but, excepting when she was excited, very pale. The care of her father's house and the responsibility of the training of her sisters, had given to her face a grave, thoughtful ex prcssion, suited to an older person. My darling Maggie. In sorrow or gladness always keeping the same cheerful manner, never excited either to passionate grieving or boisterous mirth, yet always ready with gentle sympathy for either. One morning I was sitting with my pet, chat ting and sewing, when her father opened the door, and handed her a letter, saying,

"Havana! Whom do you know there, Maggie?"

"It must be from Mr. Graham," said Maggie, in a low, constrained voice.

Mr. Hepburn left us, apparently satisfied, and Maggie opened the letter. I watched her whilo she read it, saw the dear face grow whiter and whiter, the dark eyes grow more and more mournful in their expression, till as she finished she drooped her head, saying, in a low, heart broken tone, " What shall I do ?" I was amazed. Mr. Graham I knew was a friend, a dear friend of the family, but I never suspected that a letter from him could effect Maggie so powerfully. "Oh, aunt Hetty, what shall I do?" she re peated. I drew her close unto my arms, and asked her what troubled her. For several moments she could not gain sufficient composure to answer me, then she said, "It has been my only secret from you, dear aunty, because it troubled me so much I could not talk of it, but now I will tell you all about it. You have met Harry Graham here; you know how grand and noble he is, how highminded, intellectual, and yet how kind and gentle. From the first time I ever met him I loved him, but it was with a reverential, wor shiping love that never looked for a return. He seemed to me too far above me, too much my superior ever to dream of loving poor little me. Last summer when he stayed here he was very kind to me, and when the. doctor's said his health required a change of climate, and ordered him to go South for the winter, then I knew 233


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 •

" FN

. .&S:

THE INCOMPARABLE


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NEW STYLE OF FALL BONNETS.

THE INCOMPARABLE.


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THE ELEGANTE.


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NEW STYLE OP SLEEVES.

NEW STYLE OF CAPS.


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FOR YOKE AND SLEEVE OF CHEMISE.

TOP OF GLOVE BOX.


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HANDKERCHIEF BORDER.

BOTTOM OF SKIRT.


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NEW STYLES OF FALL BONNETS.

CHILDREN'S FASHIONS FOR FALL.


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lxii original Narrative, but the second, or even the third redaction of one much earlier.

At what particuliar era the primeval fiction of the “Nibelungen” passed from its Mythological into its Historical shape; and the obscure spiritual elements of it wedded themselves to the obscure remembrances of the Northern Immigrations; and the Twelve Signs of the Zodiac became Twelve Champions of Attila’s Wife,—there is no fixing with the smallest certainty. It is known from history that Eginhart, the secretary of Charlemagne, compiled, by order of that monarch, a collection of the ancient German Songs; among which, it is fondly believed by antiquaries, this “Nibelungen” (not indeed our actual “Nibelungen Lied,” yet an older one of similar purport), and the main traditions of the “Heldenbuch” connected therewith, may have had honourable place. Unluckily Eginhart’s Collection has quite perished, and only his Life of the Great Charles, in which this circumstance stands noted, survives to provoke curiosity. One thing is certain, Fulco Archbishop of Rheims, in the year 885, is introduced as “citing certain German books,” to enforce some argument of his by instance of “King Ermerich’s crime toward his relations;” which King Ermerich and his crime are at this day part and parcel of the “Cycle of German Fiction,” and presupposed in the “Nibelungen.” Later notices, of a more decisive sort, occur in abundance. Saxo Grammaticus, who flourished in the twelfth century, relates that about the year 1130, a Saxon Minstrel being sent to Seeland, with a treacherous invitation from one royal Dane to another; and not daring to violate his oath, yet compassionating the victim, sang to him by way of indirect warning “the Song of Chriemhild’s Treachery to her Brothers;” that is to say, the latter portion of the Story which we still read at greater length in the existing “Nibelungen Lied.” To which direct evidence, that these traditions were universally known in the twelfth century, nay had been in some


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1ES MODES PAMSIENNES


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"Stranger, where goest thou, in the sad raiment of a pilgrim, with shattered sandals retaining the dust and mire of so many devious ways? With thy brow that alien suns have darkened, and thy hair made white from the cold rime of alien moons? Wanderest thou in search of the cities greater than Rome, with walls of opal and crystal, and fanes more white than the summer clouds, or the foam of hyperboreal seas? Or farest thou to the lands unpeopled and unexplored, to the sunless deserts lit by the baleful and calamitous beacons of volcanoes? Or seekest thou an extremer shore, where the red and monstrous lilies are like a royal pageant, pausing with innumerable flambeaux held aloft on the verge of the waveless waters?"

"Nay, it is none of these that I seek, but forevermore I seek the city and the land of my former home: In the quest thereof I have wandered from the first immemorable years of my youth till now, and have mingled the dust of many realms, of many highways, in my garments' hem. I have seen the cities greater than Rome, and the fanes more white than the clouds of summer; the lands unpeopled and unexplored, and the land that is thronged by the red and monstrous lilies. Even the far, aerial walls of the cities of mirage, and the saffron meadows of sunset I have seen, but nevermore the city and land of my former home."

"Where lieth the land of thine home? and by what name shall we know it, and distinguish the rumour thereof, among the rumours of many lands?"

"Alas! I know not where it lieth; nor in the broad, black scrolls of geographers, and the charts of old seamen who have sailed to the marge of the seventh sea, is the place thereof recorded. And its name I have never learned, howbeit I have


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CAP.

COLLAR AND SLEEVE.

TUE ST. CLOUD.

BONNET.


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BRAIDING FOR CHILD'S CAP.

THE LABRADOR.


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 WREATH FOR HANDKERCHIEF.

OPERA CLOAK.


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INSERTION.

BRAIDING PATTERN FOR SMOKING CAP.


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NEW STYLE COLLAR.

INITIALS.


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