DIGEST OF ENGLISH LITERATURE FOR THE MONTH OF MAY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume I, Issue 224, 1 August 1864, Page 5

DIGEST OF ENGLISH LITERATURE FOR THE MONTH OF MAY.

[WRITTEN FOB THE "SEW ZEALAND HERALD."] f Continued.*]

llarmillan. — "The Competition Wallah" sends his twelfth and last letter on Education of India since 1835, containing a minute of Lord Macaulay's on the subject, which has been hitherto unpublished. The series of letters is to appear immediately in a separate form, and is now announced to be the production of ]\lr. G. O. Trevlyan. In his last letter he reiterated the opinion that the natives ot India and the Ensrlish do not understand each other; that there is little sympathy between them ; that the natives wish their conquerors out of the country, and regard Christianity as a poor exchange for their libeitv, and that the Anglo-Indians are not likely to win the good feeling and respect of native gentlemen. There are some incidents of tiie mutiny referred to. " The Hillyars, the Eurtons," the Son of the Soil," are continued. The editor's " Recollections of True Cities" reier this time to Edina, Scotia's Darling Seat," as Burns apostrophised the modern Athens. The allusions to "Dead Men" are only incidental. The article is chielly a description of t.he citv itself. Goklwin Smith asks, •' Has England an interest in the disruption of the American union j"" The answer lie gives is substantially this—a united peaceful republic is not likely to have a standing army, and therefore not likely to menace its neighbours : a divided republic must be prepared tor war, and will therefore be tempted to employ its army in attacking its neighbours. The visions ol a vast slave Empire ill the west arc at ail end ; the restless enterprise of the South "would probably find its scope in war. Isa Craig some beautiful lines, entitled " One in the Crowd, Ap. 10, on Garibaldi's triumphal entry into London. "' Kant and Sweden borg" discusses their views on the " Spirit question. .Matthew Arnold contributes pt. 3 of " A French Eton." . . , Good Words maintains its character; some papers are excellent, others are not worth much. '• Grand-mother's Snufl " is worse than worthless, harrowing the feelings, pointless and lessonless. " Only a .Baby's Grave " is a beautiful contrast. Christian Work should be on the tables of all who wish to have succinct accounts of benevolent and religious operations all over the world. This month contains a letter irom Dr. Livingstone, oil his withdrawmenfc from the Zambesi, and other interesting papers. The Christian Spectator is high, bold, broad, and generous, taking a first- place among undenominational religious magazines. The Alexandra Jfar/azinc makes its debut this month, as Woman's Social and Industrial Advocate. J?unclis Tercentenary number —

Ot' a veric mory unswerc that Wil Shakspcar© dyd gn cto a Tvi)*»ve Survyntxe man. Wil isbakspeare baduc a JSer\ynjso man \vno\vas fond ot" saeke. Sue one daye whan licc came home, ve man whu was Ua.i'e druukumie, dyd'liiceupp. " l'-l'-pry-\\nu- or iiowe. ;:oode m-m-maistere.< t'-give uiee a c-o-cupp ol v-viekc" " C-jfive tiieo a e-o-eup of s-&acker" quod fihaksprurw, ye uiaii, " trulye no, uat I. li\iltel in.. tvhui, sir knave. ~n ihou take not bcttcre Uecde. f ;vn se t nou "ruost ye saeke, an that risque speedilye." mery eonceiUe ye man was siiviten uppc, as ye gciityi lolk doe C l {)i' \\"il Snakspcare an his sweie harteoii Saynt "V alent.vnehys da\ e. "U'han Shakspcare fyrst dyd pa»e liys eowt to .Uisires JiatHawa.ve, hee dyd scnde byr ibis sweie poem on bayul \ alentyne hys dnye:— " Ye rose is reddc, ye viulett blewe Veiisoim is deere, an soe are you* Swutc Aunc, beiievc lite saynige stu 'l'uiLtt tlier's a. xvuye xviier Lliui-'s a xvil." To wliyclie ye lyilyu dyd re;ilie with becoming liiortestyo Ve violett's biexvu. ,v<s rose is redde, Ami i xvi) Uiynke of xvliai you've sedde: •Vje y >u iii:iy liopp xvil se sum ilaye Anne natli ;i xvil, Anne mail :i xvaye." Jtx* tiiys ye nniye i>erceix'e thai a man iiys xvytte is often nut S^/o^l rtir'n:.vMii'dc)its.~An imiuii'CK inquires! wiiy tins imvt of M-uvilrii iial'sc in umllleil from tlio liiay ot " Hamlet." xviieii tlie iiiul'ior <li>lilielly inliniiites mat the illirsual is to xvalk in beanie l SQ^ ( -[vntro tie comes -wii'n Uartbal B'.aik

| Vt'c I'Clieve that the omissloK.onKUiiiM'il .in (Uii ji'.a'oas.v nt" 3lr. .folm C(i(.|iur. u lio iiisil!>e<f <i coiiii-;«iiu«i in liie scene. , Svridon l»:.a r.cvor ?con a play of Shakespeare s \niilL UiKQtito la 111- " Iliinti.He regrets to Hml tlait tlie wm-u, mi ,mi"h praised, is in an v all iiii.Ur up of quotations pertectly lamina;* to him.' \\ e;< re sorrv alio, hut what can we do? i A Clergyman.—The Archbishop ol' York, Scroap, wjis so ' called from being scrupulous, though you might uol thul that out from the drama. A T.txiug Master. —Hal ha! you arc a true Shakspcarmn. A very good mouo indeed I'or a place where lawyers get their bills overhauled: *• Tb»j cheapest ol* us is ten groat* too (Tear." . Ten groats being tony pc.ie'i, or thr^e-and-foitrper"?. Topers and Sappers.—.Mr. i'up«'!i ; iL>ent« his hi.nents to these clubs, and thanks the.n mr tho honour they h»vo donft him by inviting him io tope and sip xvith them in memory or the man who has immortalised thorn. But it. would not bo lair. He. like the late Lord Khlen, could drink any given quantity, nml they would all be lloor d as the Scotch euampions were by the God of the Battle in Hums' song: "AVho cau with Punch and quart bumpers contend.-" Cynical Cad :usks whether Shakspeare was not a much overrated uum'r. "We have searched the Stratford ratebook for evidence that he was, but thul no entry of appeal on his part, and he seems to have paid his vales regularly and with eon- , tent. Cynical Cad asks whether Slmksnonre wax not- a much overrated man't We have searched the Stratford rale book lor evidence that he was, but ilnd no entry of appeal on his pan. i lie seems to have paid his rates regularly and wilh content. Young Housekeeper.—We never tasted any "dairies iried," . but we dare say they make very good pics, oranges do. j An Immortide—l'or the third lime we utteri.v refuse to i print your tribute to the Swan of Avon. The lirst .lines are our justi Heat ion, and though we do not say that they are worse than the average of poetry on the Mibjcet, they are not up to the mark; — "O, "Will! accept my homage plenary. On thy three hundredth tercentenary." Because the date is worthy of the kind. 15nt we thought that long word would bring si good many well-meaning folks to grief. A Painful Bellcction. —It is in matrimony :is in warfare, there's inauy a conference without an armistice. It may appear like weairness, or cowardice, not to have parted the belligerents, but the truth is, intervention iu such cases is always a most perilous proceeding. He who interferes is gencraly exposed to the tire of both sides. Rhymes to Convocation.— (loosey. goosey, gander, "Where do you wander, l"p stairs—down stairs, In Jerusalem chamber. "Polite Oxbridge Tradesman (inquest of little Xibbs of S. i Boniface, and walking by mistake in the rooms of long Xobbs. ! who "peeps" on the same staircase),—'" Mr. Nibbs, I believe. Nobbs (who is six feet one, and rowi d a trille over twelve stone at Putney, the other day). "Then my good fellow, ! you'll believe anything." Hairdresser's Motto. —Two heads (of hair) are better than one. Scotch and Sliakspeariana.—D'ye ken why my neck-hatulker-rhief is like one of Master Minkspcare's plays r Hoot to-it. Ye dinna kin > Varra weel ! then I'll just tell ye; ma neck- : handkerchief is like one oV his plavs, because its a Tie-won. Medical. —Miss Uvula wishes to know if the best writer upon sore throats was De Quiusey All we can say is consult , u solicitor. What is the best thing for one in a hurry r—Xothing. Bishop of London's Bird's Kye.—Hear the Bishop of London on tlie Privy Council of the Oxford declaration. —""Wc Ilnd that even yuung cleivvmen in the first year of their ministry have been appealed to " for the l(»ve of God," to protest Hgainst the decisions of the highest authority in Church and Mate, and some uncharitable and unchristian sentiments have been published in the heat of the controversy. Wi.-e men always deprecate such times of agitation. Leaders of questionable arthodoxy are apt to put themselves forward, aud haxe their own serious faults condoned as the reward of their zeal for the protest of the hour." Dr. l'usey ami Archdeacon Denison are respectfully recommended, each of them, to pill that in his pipe and Mnokc it. April Cardening for Policemen. —Procure some of tho oldfashioned l»o\v-sircct Kunners, aud train ihem over your windows. A very pivttv etfrrt. In vino vvritwi,—TradeMnan to customer. My dear we've nothing in ports as low as Is., but we've some delicious damson at lod.—The same thing.

DENMARK. (From tho " Weekly Despatch," May 22.) To resul our journals, to listen to our senators, to open one's cars in tho morning; train or afternoon omnibus, to tho ebb and How of public opinion, one would think tli'it England is the most self-denying country, the most virtuous and disinterested politician in tho world. " Oh, that some power the gilt wad gie us To see ourselves as ithfirs see us!" That the great German bully Austria—that pipe-clay and blacking-blush I'iusmu—should fall up< 11 the little Statu of Denmark ; that they should sack Duppel and phu dor Jutland; that they should aim at annexing the Duchies, and pel haps even bagging Denmark itself! " Think of tli.it, blaster lirooki; !" "What is Karl liusscll ab"uf with liis meddle and muddler" "Why isn't the I'.ritish licet in the Laltic !' "Why did we remonstrate with the Genitalis if we didn't mean all the time to go to war with them in tiie event of our protest proving unavailing 'i Why did we mediate on the side ol Denmark, and lead tho Danes on to unavailing resistance, -unless wo intended to set ail Kurope in flames, and run up a second National Debt, in defence of it people with whom we ha%o 110 earthly We wonder what those who put these indignant queries would have said if Ministers had really adopted a step that would have at once doubled cur income-tax, reimposed the dt ductions from'the ten, sugar, and beer duty, and ati'oidcd the Yankees a pretext lor sweeping tho m as oi our mercantile marine, under Austrian or l'mssinn commissions. Alter Mice, and Savoy, and Koine, is it wonderiul that Fiance should leave to England the whole duly of intervention r

Of all nations in the woild just think ul' England expiessing virtuous indignation at a war of aggiession—or of i'rance joining ill the remonstianee, with an auny ol' occupation ill IMexico which lias just imposed u]ion the liipublie an Emperor borrowed 11-0111 Austria ! It is our boast that we have an empire on which the sun never .sets, llow have we come by it? llow long is it since we stole the Daimio's licet, and Jaid Kagosima in ashes When did we blockade the ports of Brazil, and dictate to her about the slave-trader ILow many settlements have wo extorted from China—and what business have we with the civil war and the Tapeings-—fight-ing, it seems, on both sides 1' What do we mean by the tine phrase that the Kallira are "troublesome,'' or that the Duel's are turbulent—did they eonie to us or did ire go to I/idii ! Didn't New Zealand belong to the Now Zoalanders by a clearer title than the Duchies do to Denmark r Yet what care we for title, or patriotism, or anything that stands in the way of our annexations \ *Are we not "protecting the Aborigines" oil' the lace of the earth r What have wo to do on the Guinea Coast, at Sierra Leone, in Ashantee ? By what proccss is it that we have absorbed ono after another of the kingdoms of India, until her kings and princes have become our wretched stipendiaries. Nor let it be suggested that our conquests and annexations have been of barbarous countries only. Japan, China, India, can all boast an older civilization than our own. Yet what have settled government, a perfectly defined territory, and an intelligent community availed to avert subjugation to cur insatiable avarice and ambition Austria and Prussia are not blind to our acts, or ignorant of our pretensions ; and it is not wonderful that " the villany we teach them they should execute—or that it should go hard they should better the instruction." Do we think that nobody is to cheat, intrigue, cajole, and steal but ourselves 'i Do we expect that our more precept will enforce virtue in other nations, when we neutralise it by setting such ail example r When Satan takes to reproving Sin, he cannot look lor much by his motion, I'erjide Albion is not a mere figure of speech. Any nation alive to self-respect will look with indignant contempt upon a lecture upon moderation and tile sin of an aggressive policv from such a people. After burning 'the winter palace of the Emperor of China, extorting the Sycee silver, and helping ourselves to the tribute wo exacted alter sacking Canton, for the oifence of a nation defending itself against unprovoked aggression, we can realise the calamity inllicted upon Jutland by the robberies of Yon Wrangel. For the first time in the history of Europe, doctrinaires propound the proposition that a great Power should isolate its policy, and abdicate the function of intervening in the vicissitudes of other Stalas. It was the maxim of the Greeks, that ail attack upon one State was the concern of all, and that each should anticipate any attack upon itself, by going to war in defence of its neighbour. The Jitohaii and Aohaian Dengues, had this for their object. The States of Italy combined to resist the attacks of the Konians against each in detail. The maintenance of the balance of power in Europe lus been the source of many wars among a tales which had 110 personal cause of quarrel. Isolated geographically from the allairs of lint Continent, Franco did not seek to attack us. But, alarmed at her assaults upon the independence of neighbouring nations, we spent twelve hundred millions in defending Europe against poleon's aggressions. What was Turkey—what the "sick man"—to u. ; ; tnafc we should spend ono hundred millions and tifiy thousand lives in crippling Itussiaf Simply this: that when our neighbour's house is on lire, it is high tune we looked up our own water buckets, and helped to drown out tnc conflagration. J a tiiat traditional policy right or wrong r Upon tile answer to t-Hat question depends the issue of peace or war with the German Powers. The Baltic Stales have the finest seamen in the world. Their mercantile marine is second in tonnage only to tiiat of England. With a steam fleet Scotland is j within easy reach—a few days' sail. In the hands ! ol a lirst Power, with the pecuniary means of creat- ■ ing a navy, they might become a formidable rival of

England on her own peculiar elUti.l" tlua * contingency so imminent as to justny a prudent people, iii entering 11. ' <11 a. war with an ai-r;i> -.>1 a million 01 ;>i.-,t,-cl;;.>s 1 ~nd a number 01 Homogeneous Civil ihi-d blaleo of great resources ? Atlcr all our impatience at Germon insolence, our jealousy of other pcoj)i';'s aggressions, our empathy with the weak who show puie.v, our antipathy to " Ilooslians" and "-l'roo.-ihjuis"—it still comes to thatami, before comnjiting ourselves farther, we insist upc'fl the public funking- the " situation " fairly ill the face. Let. us remember that we could not keep up our contingent. oi out'-Itt'Diitit !I, of the present German armies, without having iccoai.-e to Germany itself for reernits—Umf, India drains us of ten thousand fighting lueu e\ery year l1•■ t L wc have to garrison all our colonies—that. England arid' Scotland are depleted by yearly mei easing emigration—and that wo havo lost 10 per cent, of the population of Irclandby famine and a progressive exodus. Wo are by 1 o means prepared to maintain olf-hand that the circumstances are not sulliciently grave to render it more prudent to interfere than to abstain. All that wo contend for is that tlie people should quite distinctly understand the terms of the question. " What King, going to make war against another King, sitteth not down lir.it, and consultcfh whether he be able, with ten thousand, to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand It is all very well to cry, " Oh, for an hour of Castlereagh!" but.Castlereagh cost us an enormous National debt without a single advantage to show for it. Nothing is more easy than to taunt us with being the laughing-stock of Europe. 'Die providei.t are always called mean, and the prudent thought craven. The spendthrift can easily turn tlie laugn upon the frugal, and 110 is sure to be pointed at as mean-spirited who makes his pride wait upon his judgment. But " let them laugh that win." J'opal us jut- sihilat, ast utihi ptuudo ttuttimis in area. The simple question is whether it is better at onco to realise tlie certainty of the waste of life and money in a war to avert the possible, perhaps probable, event of our ultimately having to contend with a Power that has conquered our neighbour; or to run the risk of the consequence of passivity, and take our chance of the ultimate result, 011 the principle that peace can never be kept too long, and war can never come too late. Is it, in short,- " Better to bear those ills we have, Thau fly to otheit. that we know not of!'" This policy of isolation is, it must bo confessed, entirely new ; but it is also true that geographically we arc isolated. Is not the doctrine ot noil-interven-tion corroborated by the total failure of that of interference r What have we to show lor our intervention and our debt ? What trace, bo it ever so faint, have all the victories of IN'apolcon left on the map or 011 the policy of Europe 'i Is I\ussia the stronger or richer for Poland ■ Is Austria more poweriul for the possession of Hungary, or weaker for the loss of Italy? "Would the Federals be the stronger or the safer for taking to their heart and keeping in their house the Confederates who hate them r 1s it quite certain that Prussia will be really more vigorous by being less compact, by nursing aiD'eii'oi'hy within, rather than letting Denmark and the Duciiics remain without r JS'ay, if it comes to that, do our colonies, does our Indian Empire really give us any strength we should not have il they were independent upon 11s r We are very sensitive about our honour. It is ludicrous, if it were not grievous, to mark the frivolity of the pretexts nations resort to for destroying each other v We are as punctilious as duellists. * Any moral slight, any political aflront, breaking 110 bones, taking lrom us 110 money, leaving us everything we had before it was put upon 11s, is in our eyes full justification for spreading ruin and devastation, wasting our substance and putting to a cruel death as inanysof our fellow-11 caturcs as the latest patent new impiovements in scientific devilishliess willenableustoturn on. That is what we call being tenacious of our national honour; and a new sect has risen up among us, whose apostles tell us to treat | angry or insulting words with good-tempered contempt: to regard meic threats or bluster with calm, | Christian and philosophical indifference; to make no j answer or a r.ott one to the " wild and whirling words" of the foolish or the violent; to keep ourselves thoroughly piepared for self defence against material aggression, but otherwise to dolt' the mad world and let, it pass. We do not pretend to solve this question, but only to stale the terms of it. We cannot believe it to be impossible to make a League of Great Powers, binding everv State in Europe to abide by tlie filial decision of the whole ; eniorcing a geneial reduction of armaments to an extent propoitioncd to the exigencies of each Estate as these may he measured by Congress of all; binding the whole ol the Powers to make war collectivelv upon any State that enters upon hostilities without their full concurrence: finally and fully lesolving that the rifle and the bombardier shall no longer be the arbiter of tlie destinies of nations. Why, France and England alone, if they cordially understood and could entirely trust each other, could d ictatc the policy of Europe, and at the same time reduce the taxation oi both countries by at least fifteen millions sterling per annum. They could at once have arrested tlie>e Danish attrocitics, they could put an end to the American war. Another course is open to us. We might avail ourselves of our colonies for the purposes of mutual defence. Let the mother country and her dependencies be diawn together by tlie admission of a certain moderate number of' representatives ol each into our Douse of Commons. Let each colony engage to keep 011 foot a militia and navy propoi turned 10 means and population ; and let each engage to send its full contingent to the aid of whatever community may bo the subject of tlie attack of an enemy. Why slAuld not our British settlements be like the States of Greece with their Amphyetionic Council? Why should not every colony be made to feel that it is an integral element of our common nationality—of the great empire Why should the mother country be made to lind all tlie material force necessary for the protection 01 the colonies, in place of looking to them to defend themselves, each other and their common parent? AYhv is tlie too well founded complaint, that an American citizen is received with more distinction in our diplomatic and upper circles than a Canadian or Australian setter i If we are to abandon our traditional policy of intervention ill foreign aliiiirs, our security in the transition lies in availing ourselves of our vast colonial resources to render England strong enough to hold her own against any possible combination.

SENTENCE OF DEATH. (From the " Cornhill Magazine.") A man goes into the consulling-room ol a physician, a little ailing, as he himself acknowledges ; lie comes out at the end of a quarter of an hour, but during those few minutes, sentence cf death has been recorded. The sky still bends over him, and the sun shines as it did before ; men pass null repass him by unnotieing ; he is to them the same as he was the liny or the hour before. The lntin is outwardly the same, and yet altogether changed from that time. Then come to him ill quick succession sensations altogether new and strange. He has no indecision about facing this sudden liorror, lor that would imply the possibility <5f escape, or even of feeble deliance, and hope of that kind he has none ; but in view, and in near view of tho fast approaching peril, comes tho irresistible craving for some wild excitement, some prodigious physical exertion, some desperate contest by which the mind should become inured to tho nearness to dentil, or thought itself be mastered by fatigue. Tho immediate effect of a sadden sentence of this kind is to confuse and confound, not the one who pronounces it, but the person tfiat receives it; for of all I lie vast group of upturned faces at an execution, it is only the man about to did who cannot see the sharp gleam ol the axe as it falls upon him, and he who sluuds closest to tho deathbell hears least distinctly the message it gives, while far oil' the tones ring with a sad and sweet clearness ill tho ears of the listeners. With those whose nearest and ultimate consolation has always been found in books or their pen, alter the lirst great shock, there is often experienced an liiten-e lervid desire to concentrate all their doomed faculties on some particular aim or work which they yearn to accomplish before they go, and to make that which they know lo be their limit effort. also their most excellent and best, so that their last iteeds shall be accounted honorable, their last counsels of " heroic wisdom sot to perfect words." We can hardly tell how often a secret knowledge of this kind has been the real source of the eloquence which is so penetrative and sympathetic in spirit as 10 astonish men by the light which it easts on the hidden workings ol the human heart. To a sanguine, hopelul temperament, the blow is perhaps the most overwhelming at the moment, and yet the most quietly and peacefully accepted at last; but where a regretful, casuistical, and conscientious mind is combined with an earnest and indexible spirit, there arise reactionary perplexities, fears, and doubts, which often severely harass the man whose span of life is so swiftly closing in. Unquestionably, there are natures endowed with a

faculty of suoli singular -precognition in human affairs, that they literally foresee—that is, tlicy arrive ut- conclusions, not. by aid of reasou ancl calculation, but ly absolute prescience, as if gifted witii tlie st-cona-sight. Just as a man ( by'daylight recognises at once his own reflection in a mirrbr, -whereas, in darkness, he would, with diffiouliy, and by groping, as it were, ii his memory, recall, one by one, his own particular features, and so, slowly and step by stcp, attains to a recollection of the sort of appearance lie jjrMierallv presented. Men thus endowed are generally of a nature ut once apprehensive, regretful, and resolute ; and of theiu it may truly be allirnied that they die a thousand times before they die, and suiter every pain many times over in anticipation, and tenfold in actual amount of agony. Change is strong, but habit is stronger, and lie cannot cast the one for the other, as he would his raiment. Apprehensive : I havo said. Much to do, and so little time left me to do it, is the burthen of his thought: "If such a combination should now turn out ill or indifferently to what I expect, if all 1 have reason to rely 011 should fail' me iu the critical time, how then r what to do r Is there one possible contingency I have not mentally confronted 'r If so, what is it ?" This is what he'says or thinks. Kegretl'ul: "This I might have foreseen, that I might have prevented, II word more here, nianv words less 01' different there, and this or that misery would never have been." ltesolute : " So it shall be in such a way and 110 other will I act—it is niy fixed purpose from,, which I will not swerve." Vain words! vain hopes! and even as they pass through his brain, ho knows them to be so. Hut, in the presence of a silent, near, and resistless danger, thoughts,- questions, and answers like these succeeding each other with bewildering contusion ; yet in all this dark sea of sadness rarely does one doubt suggest itself as to the actual truth of a verdict, which is instinctively felt to be recorded by a tribunal more than human, and which many may neither set aside nor idter. Often an intence momentary longing is experienced to bid lurewell in souio sort to all that lie has loved best; he yearns to touch and re-touch every familiar hand and thing, to see once again each face or scene that has been held dear ; but, in the very midst of it, the sentence recorded recurs to memory, and color and warmth fades swiftly from his wishes—" desire fails " when the world and things of the world grew shadowy and dim. Then follows, perhaps, for a. brief instant, a frenzied beseeching, or a mortal anguish, and then, a great calm, and sometimes ail immunity from even the fear of dissolution, for our spirit becomes dominant as our body grows cold and helpless, and the frosts of deafli, as the}' creep through the dying nerves, paralyse the hand and tongue but not the soul. During this ordeal, the conscience is purified as by fire, and the nature even of a very secretive man will become of a transparent truthfulness. There is a certain fruit known, I think, as the Siberian gluss apple, which, as it ripens, increase in a pellucid clearness, until, just before it falls from the tree, it appears as though it were enclosed in • crystal. In this way death purges the soul of deceits. With such a narrow margin of time to work in, what is there worth a lie or an unkind word ? The worst nature is slow to take offence 011 the eve of a long journey ; and it is hard to say how much we cannot lorgive when we aie quite sure we are near our iinal moment. For death is a potent spell, and in its shadow the querulous grow patient, the rough man gentle, and those who never before consulted pleasure other than their own become painfully anxious to spare the labor of others, so that the many trifling oftices which the hand of love can only perform may be as few and light as possible. Illness takes away or adds to the poetry of death, accordingly as it is borne —sadly, nmrniuringly, or heroically. It is one of the n.ost pathetic circumstances attendant on such changes, that natural affection is thereby so much deepened as greatly to multiply the pangs of dissolution ; and yet, that the last-named, being twofold in their nature, should be expeiieneed in a proportion comparatively infinitesimal by the one most nearly concerned- The full I severity of the physical pain he must bear ; that the watchers can neither prevent nor take away ; but, by the operation of a nie.-t merciful law, they may and do vicariously endure most- of the mental suffering. And so approaches the last act of the drama, the piologue only ol which was spoken in the consultingroom of the physician.

A FIGIIT FOR A HOUSE AT DALLAKAT. 1 (From the "Ballarat Star.") Tltli neighbourhood of Drummond and' Eyre streets mis in a state of cxcitement "during the whole of AN cdnesday, in consequence of the brick villa residence at the corner of the striets. named, formerly known as the residence ol i\lr. Duke, being made the scene of scvcial sieges, serious enough in their way, though happily not attended with the loss oi much blood to inn oi the belligerents. It is 1:0 doubt well known that for some time past (he title lo this property has been ill dispute, and that Mrs. Duke has already figured in the police court for being in illegal occupation of it, the charge being dismissed, as tho court liad 110 power to set tie a question ot title. It may also be renumbered that 011 the same (lavas these proceedings weie Icing talien, the property was .-old by public auction at the instance ol Mr. Loader, M.L.A., who laid claim to it 011 account of a lien 110 held over it for 11 sum of money he advanced to Mr. Duke previous to his insolvency. Ac the time of the sale ftlr. Loader held possession, which he only ob tained with considerable diliiculty, but not long afterwards Mrs. Duke, who alleges that the property was vested in trustees for her beneiit, and her husband had therefore 110 right to gn e a lien over it, effected 1111 cut ranee, and in defiance of the sale, and apparently of the law and even tiling else, held possession. Matters remained thus fir a lew days, and the residents in the locality were beginning to think that, after all, the energetic lady had got the better oi her opponents, but 011 Wednesday morning, shortly after ten o'clock, a band of men calling themselves bailills, stated to be lourteen stro?ig, broke open one of tho doors, and proceeded to take measures to eject .Mrs. Duke and all the worldly goods she had around lier. When the besiegers lirst arrived, it is stated that she was busying herself with breakfast ; but tearing probably to trust herself to their tender mercies whilst in flint position, she bolted into her bedroom and ensconed herself in bed, in the belief, 110 doubt, that there she would bo at least safe from their clutches. Vain hope, however, lier pursuers were not so delicate as she imagined, and using as little force as was necessary to accomplish their purpose, they forced her out into" the street, it is stated with a counterpane over her head to prevent her using her hands. She ! 1 ot in afterwards several times through the windows, regardless of the she was breaking ; but us she was 110 sooner inside than she was iorced out again, she went in quest of assistance. The bailills, being inside, thought that they were safe, and their numbers were diminished by three, the remaining eleven thinking themselves quite enough to cope with any force likely to be brought against them. Thus matters continued till about tlu'ee o'clock in the afternoon when, accompanied by live apparently devoted followers, Mrs. Duke appeared at the house, determined to gain admittance and eject the bailiffs. These latter were armed with short bludgeons, and viewed from the outside, they looked a formidable crew. Nothing daunted, however, by a strong force opposed to her, Mrs. Duke approached 0110 of tho windows facing Kyre-street, aud backed by her followers, attempted to push herself in—the glass having been smashed he lore. There she stuck, half in and half out, the baililfs pushing her out in front and the others pushing her iu from behind, screaming like mad and exerting herself amazingly ; and there she might have stuck till now, but for a little stratagem of one of her followers, which secured her a victory. \V lrilst being held up in front of the window, her crinoline was 01 course spucezed against the frame, aud gradually being blown up like an umbrella about to be turned inside out, one of the men crept ill under it, over the windowsill, and rolling himself up like a ball, dropped at the feet of the astonished bailitls with a shout, aud by a. well directed blow on the mouth, sent one of them prostrate on the tloor. Xlie attention oi the bailills being thus distmcted for the moment. Airs. Duke was squeezed in through the window, and once inside, she and her followers made good use of their hands, for in 11 very short space ot time the bailills, who, it appears, lied at the lirst appearance of 11 close engagement, bad cleared out by the open easements in other portions ol the building, one oi theiii also, it is said, in his hurry to escape, not waitin" to untie a large dog at tile end of tile house, but cutting ttie cord which held tho animal. Again the mistress of the citadel, though with a severe struggle, and bearing the marks of numerous scratches about the lace and arms, Mrs. Duke proceeded to fortify herself against any further attempt to dispossess her, but up till evening the enemy Imd not returned. By that lime, with the assistance of some friends, a numerous host of whom appeared to attend her, she had barricaded the windows to prevent being taken by surprise, and made other arrangements to hold her bravely-v>'on fortress. And so tho matter remains for

tiio present, but it is that it am letftamw long, as' the property has been sold, and the popchaser, to presume, will not submit to such a defeatlNearly all the windows in the house have heen bro--ken, doors have been smashed in, arid at present th&= whole place is in a state of the utmost disorder.- Theplants in the garden in front are trodden down,-and! here and there may be seen sign 3 of the f:oiiilicc,-iii l the shape of pieces of doors, broken window sashas,. broken glass and bludgeons. The bufliß's took prtf-" ceedings at the instance of Mr. Loader's agent, and as they have so signally failed to koep possession, no doubt oihnr means will be resorted to. We understand from .Mr. Loader's agent, that Mrs. Duke n&s now provided herself with a brace of revolvers, 'which, she is determined to use if flnother such attempt is made to dispossess her by force'.

THE RAG-PICKER OF PAEIS'. (From Macniven & Cameron's Paper T-iade - Review.) . To even those in the heart- of a paper mill, it may be something new to know some of the wonderful operations ol' collecting the rags which form the raw material of the paper mill. Accustomed 'as we ara to look at results on the grand scale only, we arff upt to be indifferent to the noiseless and slow operations of the under-lying staratum of commerce. It isfrom these tliu*. our "larger and more massive brunches have there root and support, and but for the silent and humble hive of operatives,' our extensive and, magnificent commercial pursuits coidd have no existence—but for the contented and indefatigable' rag-picker, who pursues his daily toil in a department where respectaabilitv will not intrude, and where even the hardy sons of toil will not risk their character of cleanliness and propriety. Their lives and their labours are alike unknown to the upper classes who work iu the mills and factories of oar industrial England. In this country we do not carry the collection of ths raw material to- anything like the extent they do in France. This may beaccounted for by the greater skill of our population, and a demand for labour in higher departments' than.in trance. In this, country, they are collected by private enterprise, and, except in the case of the: charitable institution called the " Ilag Brigade" in London, are small and individual enterprises. Not so in France. They constitute an aggregate of 25,00 in Paris alone, and of this number fifteen thousand are under the supervision of the perfect of police They are drilled with the precision of military law almost, and are classified and equipped in grades according to their ability and industry. It is in Paris ; that this labour is in its most perfect operation, and.! in many points it presents one of the most interest' ing phases of systematic and well organised labour' which that- city can show. To see it, you nrost betake yourself to one of the streets in the neighbourhood of the Polytechnic. They congregate in i arge wooden sheds, where are delivered the collections of the rags and debris of the itinerant Here they are weighed en grouse, and given over to experienced and expert, people to devide and classify in iheir various trades. Their price is fixed by a sort of rag exchange. Under the perfect, they are paid at a uniform rate of 2 francs 50 cents for the basket, and the daily produce is at 62,500 francs, or an annual sum of 63,000,000 of francs, or, in .English; money equal to £2,520,000 sterling. But ,J tliia collection, though it is principally of rags, vet it contains nearly every conceivable variety of material. In front of the shed you find soldiers' eqaulets, pieces of curtain lace, silk fringes, cordages, woollenrags, cotton rags. Within thepallisadesarelieapedupon theono side bones, broken bottles, bits of earthenware, and china, and on the other, you find old iron, broken tongs, pieces of locks, pieces of window fastenings, children's cradles, screws, bits of apparatus and machines, wires and of all strange unnumbered kinds varieties. It is impossible to look without emotion on this congeries of human covering. They arcnow r alas, only rags; but yet they represent a'sort of aristocracy of tatters. Here to this home for household rags are brought remnants and memorials of the greatest, the most gifted, the gayest, and th® most wretched, the most beautiful, the ugliest, til© wealthiest, and the poorest. There you see the handkerchief that some years ago was worn by th» beautiful .Muric Antoinette ; beside it are the lowest sweepings from the Faubourg. Exquisitely embroidered apparel, with insignia of the grand marshal, mixed with the most sombre grey of the rustic artisan. Here you have the eliarming little bridal bonnet,trimmed with inwlion ofYalencieniies, edged with English points, rullles of point d'Alencon collars of point de Venisc, which looked so well with emerald velvet, tamboured pillow-cases, seollopped petticoat flounces worked in various designs, and dainty chemisettes, still ornamented with thin silk ribbons. What a> range of liuman life is here represented! On our last visit to this place, we found the heap of embroidered rags lying side bv side with a heap of fishing nets, 'i lie* contract of life and labour here shadowed forth was strange, and, in a sense, saddening. ICxtreiue misery and the hardest labour were thus brought into contact with the greatest luxury and the softest indolence. A little further on, our foot struck '.against something unyielding and flexible— it was a white eqaulette. Before our eyes the record of misery and love ! tuidei" our feet glory! The characters employed in rag-collecting in France aro as varied and as widely diverse as the material they collect. In France, it* is computed that upwards of 100,000 people are engaged at this labour. Weak, infirm and debilitated women and children make this humble toil a means of gaining a livelihood, whiclt they would be forced to obtain by charity, beggary, or theft. The old, the young, the strong, and the infin.i, are engaged iu this busness. Among the rag-pickers there are some who are very respectable, and well dressed for such work. These people are mostly belonging to Auvergne ; and tl.ey make ittlieir duty to canvas the houses of the better classes for cast-oif linen. They cultivate the acquaintance of servants, and tempt them to dispose of their masters' and mistresses' linen. They pursue this work with skill and tact, and are successful in collecting the best class of materials, which brings in the market a price as lii'di as 50 francs per 100 kilogrammes, equal to £3 for 2 cwt., or at the rate of 2-£ d. per lb.

Chase afteu as Eagle.— 'A few days ago, whila several dogs and a lot of ravens were enjoying a feast on the carcass of a horse at Braehour, they were suddenly disturbed by the presence of a fine large eagle, at whose appearance the dogs ran off and the ravens ilow away, one of the latter carrying oft' a portion of the entrails, part being swallowed- The raven unable either to separato or disgorge her booty, shi> had to fly away with about hall a yard dangling out of lier mouth. The eagle observing this instantly gave chase, and 6oon after succeeded in seizing hold of the end of the piece, and in dragging both it and the raven to the ground, on reaching which, he struck and killed the raven, and soon after made a meal ot* it and the carrion, returning towards the carcass. In. the meantime, however, two of the dogs had returned, and possession boing nine points of tho law, they giowled defiance at the invader, and prepared to defend their rights. The eagle, bent on obtaining pessessi. n > lor a short time hovered near the spot, and suddenly descending gave tho dogstwo blows withits wings and. expelled them. It led for u short time, and then, ilow oil' with a large piece of carrion, which it deposited on a distant eminence, thereafter descending into the neighbouring loch and enjoying a bathe with ovident relish. This, however, did not finish the eagle's adventures of the day. Alter slowly rising out of the loch it descended upon a flock of sheep lambs and carried off in its talons a young lamt} u -from the stock of Mr. Gunn, Braehour, and disappwred on. the top of Dorrery. 2Ar. Gunn having _tha theft, gave chase, accompanied, strange by tho owe wiiose lamb had been taken away, ; , Whether tho mother had obseived the direction trjo, .eagle took, or merely followed Mr. Gunn after being jdeprived of its lamb, it is impossible to say ; brs : jit-.-i?/: flertainly singular that she should liavo at once, i without mvitation, accompanied, liim in. the hor young" one. On arriving nt the top of Dorrery...the eagle was observed resting, while fterlaipb skipping about uninjured. The eaglo its-, position. iilL Mr. Gunn was within 60 it took to flight, and Mr. Gunii,.. :e^'e u ajid lamb, returned to liraehoor, thu'lamb.fjeingjippe.the worse ijr its aerial voyage in the .Uq!jpiiA..of.tte eagle. . Xhk Dutch. —lhe Dutch mayj"b§;coippftred. : to thsir own turf, which kindlss which, when once kindled, ls^J,.Wuai Should he IJosE'iU p¥one s self up in a convent, ones self over a precipice, i /rg;ltoet? l iWa s x>>«pJ).v? llust uone without tiiinki^i tfjp d A Thkeat.—" of seven summery r>v}v)-J!a4. t'II from a dog, " if you-/loi> , t[toJ>s®iH-.- R? ct • fire ?—A powder. <-i • ■ * 1 j >iiir»yli'» •• "" »" • " ..if. i,. n id vJ 11.i K'd ill W; Cli 1 V'«,i Oi IWJI.S If JuojiJi* J J-J fiUd)