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nowafinn sionnroons. ‘ ‘ Qnoor John has sung ‘h‘owi ihonev goes, . But how it'co'nics, whoknows 7 Who knoms? Why'fovery Yankee mother’s sou Canteh you how.“ the thing ” is done. It‘comeiiby honest toil and trade: Byiwiolding vltdge and driving spade, And building ships, balloons. and drums; [ind that’s the way the money .goes,’ How 608.11 come 7 Why, as it goes, BS" spinning Weaving, knitting hbse, By stitching shirts and coats for Jewé, _ Erecting churches, renting pews, ‘ l ’ And n'ianufacturing boots and shoes: For thumps, and tw‘ietsuand guts, and hues, And heads and hearts, tongues, lungs, and thumbs ; , I And that’s the way Lhe money goes. How does it come ? "l‘he \vayis plain-â€" Bv raising cotton, corn, and can; ,- wind and steam, lightning and rain ;' By gu’icing ships acrosl‘ the main . ‘ ,By building bridges, roads, and dams, ’AiidsWeépiiig’streets, and digging clams, ’With whistles, hi‘s l and Ito’s ! .and hevms 1 And that’s the way the money gees, I ’ The money comesâ€"ohow did I say 7 Not always in an honest way ; It comps by tricks as well us toll, ’Btit‘h’ow is'that 7 why, slick as oil, 'By putting peas in coffee bags ; ' “By swapping watches, knives, and nags, And peddling woollen clocks and plums : And that’s the way them-envy goes. How does it come ?â€"-wait, let me. see, - It very seldom comes tome, It. comes by rule, I guess, and seals, é$omotimos, by riding on a rail ; But oftener that’s the way it goes, From silly belles and last young boaux ; It comes in big, nay, little sums, Aye, that’s the way the money comes. v illiliiuliirt. W W.fi_iâ€"r._.»~.-_-fi , .._a __. <_~..__.___._~.__ HENRY STUART ; THE KING AND THE PUBLICAN. BY GEORGE A BAXCROFT. CHAPTER VII.---HUGH DRUMMOND AND HIS DAUGHTER. LOVely as the sublimest creation 'of poet’s fancy, Was young Mar garet Drummonil, as she sat in one ’of the beautiful and costly furnished rapartments of her father’s splendid structure, early upon the morning 3 succeeding the events already made . record of. Apparently not upwards of sixteen years, with n well-formed figure, set ofl'to admirable advantage by a simple, tightly-fitting robe; with eyes of deep, liquid blue; mouth small and beautifully chis- elled; cheeks red and blooming with the rosy tint of perfect health ; a small dimpled chin; and hair of the rich, glossy, sable hue of the raven, falling in clustering rmglets upon a symmetrical neck and shoulders; the young maiden indeed appeared the very personification of true loveliness, as there she sat by . one of the deep bay windows (tho [sash of which was raised,) evidently rousing upon some matter of trifling interest. And yet, her waking thoughts were not of a trifling nature, but ra- ther ofa momentous character.ifone ' auditiainted with her might form any judgment of the matter by seeing , her suddenly arise from her chair, ’ upon the opening of the door-leading into the room, at the same time a deep blush suffusing her counten- , ancc ! But a look of disappointment . an instant after became apparent, as «the forms of her father and mother wirre revealed. She had, evrdently, “in accordance with a promise of the night before, expected a far diffcr~ ent personage than citlicr of them. ‘ In short, Edward Ainslie, though but a poor farmer boy, (with an in- heart, it’cllectual mind and noble however,) had won her heart’s tru- est, holiest affections; and both. some time previously, had declared their love for each other, and had received the sanction ofthe maiden’s parents. Edward had spent an hour With her the evening prior, subsequently to his return from 'Malcolm Faulk-' ner’s; and, upon leaving, had pro- mised, in order to accomplish some trifling service, to visit her in the morning. Hence the reason of the maiden’s present expectations of his , coming. ‘Ah! Margaret, as full of rosy health as ever,’said old Hugh Drum- mond, as be advanced, and took his . daughter’s hand. . ‘ Yes, father,’ said Margaret,as be seated himself beside her. ‘ ’Tis . owing to thispleasantautumn morn- ing, so-lovely and so pure with the odor of flowers and shrubs around.’ ‘ And that tell-tale blush. I think, has heightened Somewhat the color of your cheeks, Margaret,’ spoke her mother, as she also found a seat near by. ‘ Were you awaiting the coming of Edward ,Aainslie 'l’ ‘ Yes,’ simply replied the maiden. .‘Ah! then that accounts for the start and the blush I noticed when v we entered,’ replied her father. In pleasant converse a few moi monts patsed way, when a servant Again announced another visitor. AURORA v wwwv-MWHA‘A 7v 1‘13 Margaret startc l ; licvctl her lover. had arrived. ‘Show him In,’ said Hugh Dru.n- mood, in reply to the servant. And, a moment after, the king of St'Ot landâ€"Lord Henry Darnley, attired in his peasant costume. was ushered into the, presence of the three. Before proceeding an} furthcr,let us for a single moment return to Darnley and McDougall. After a pleasant night’s vigil. Darnlcy arose “refreshed; and upon entering the sitting-room of the tavern. where he was tarrying, he found McDougali already 1up. He immediately dc- clm'ed his intention to him of leaving for a' time, and of repairing to the residence of Hugh DruminOnd. pro- mising, however, to again see him ere the day was spent. 1 ‘ May I ask your majesty’s inten- ' tion in visiting Drummond l’ asked McDougall. ‘Simply to learn more of young Ainslie, and ofhis betrothed,’ rc- plied Darnley. ‘But how I {nay plain,’ returned Darnley. act, or what may be said,will greatly you depend upon circumstances.’ " Shall \ou reveal your name and the utmost caution may be able tolfingers, he continUed, rank'l’ ‘ I’robably,’ Was the reply ; ‘if I see no reason to Sill! keep it a secret.’ , ‘ ‘But, do you mean to inform Ainslieof what his enemies have sought to d0 1’ ‘ Most certainly.’ the answer. ‘ But I shall make him promise not to seek to harm them, unless they prove recrcant to what they have de- clared.’ ‘And also the maiden and her parents 7' ‘ Yes.’ .1, “.1” certainly be for the best; new to deceive us, in order to ad- said Donald; ' for ’thus you give them an opportunity to look out for the future, should McAlpine and El liott be false to their words, and. again seek his life.’ \thn the king had breakfasth he bade MeDougall adieu, and set out for the residence of Hugh Druum mond. How he a"l‘chd,'WC have (11- (Wired Amalie- rcndy seen. ' Am I speaking to IIugh Drum- instrumental in saving it,’ said Darn- mond l’ politely questioned Darnley, lCY- as, with a gramf‘ul manner an.) stood in your place, and have been (3 advanced into 1hr; taken foryoursclf; and because,only Scotland, Lord Henry Darnley.‘ easy carriage, t. roam. ‘ch, I am lie,’ replied Hugh Wfil‘dcd Oil. the treacherous daggerl Drummond, as glancing at his Visiâ€" stroke of the assassin.’ tor’s homely attire, hc nevertheless, bade him to be seated. Drummond sat down,and Darnley followed his example. ‘ You would probably know my my enemies? businessl’ interrogated the king. hichcenm dahgcri’ after a half minute’s Silence. ‘Yes! nevertheless, I am I’I no Visited me residence of . . o . - ~ , I ’ . hme , take your own good time Giangt‘r, more than a mile from ' My busmess is chiefly With a new 'i' ' young farmer by the name of Ed- ward Ainslie,’ was Darnley’s return. r 1 ' n ‘ ‘ l II I V ’ 'I hth. had reason to suppose tiiatl ;1¢,nu,,_fiugi, Drummond p might meet him here, or learn from you his whereabouts.’ ‘ He is not here at present,’ said Hugh Dininmond, politely and cheerfully. and noticing that the style of the king’s speech accorded not with his lowly garb. ' ‘ Further,’ resumed Henry Darnâ€" lcy, ‘I would have some words with both yourselfand your lovely daaigh ter hereâ€"if she is, indeed, the Mar- garet Druinmond I have heard of, and the betrothed ofMaster Ainslie.’ ' She is,’ said Hugh, with some surprise depicted on his features, as there was al3o oponthe countenance of the maiden. ‘ although [know not how youâ€"a strangerâ€"have learned the fact. But it matters not-â€"-wc tare both at your service.’ Before further speech was made Edward Ainslie was announced, and made his appearance. He was a handsome. manly youth. in the fresh prime of ripening manhood,and with a frank, honest expression of court‘- tenance; and after saluting Hugh and-La ly Druinmond, he pleasantly responded to the introduction they gave him to Darnley, and then ap- proached and took the extended hand of the young maiden ; many a high-born earl or noble lord might have envied him his proud look and ' majestic bearing. ‘ You would see me, I am told,’ spoke Ainslie, politely addressing Darntev, as he adVanced a step nearer him, after a Word or two had , beeen exchanged between him and ‘ Margaret. ‘ ‘ Yes‘,’ was the king’s answer.-â€"- ‘It is the principal reason of my vi- sit here at this time.’ ‘ Is the matter upon which you would speak of a private nature, or may it be stath in the presence of my friends here 7’ askedEdward. ‘ As they are friends, ’tis as well NW‘; Vâ€"V‘v "MV'VV \x-a/x ALEX. SCOT I‘, Proprietor. again she be- almost for them to know it as your~ .f broken by any effort of theirs, scll’!’ ‘ To be brief, I am her-3 ‘not reveal your name I’ inn) inonhonh :nna. ADVOCATE ,AND Kim/v“ W‘xA/‘MNJ'V‘W‘N »“ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.” ;.i§’lCl§Nl€)ND HULL, FRIDAY, king. less, indeed, the two vdlains were recrcant to their vows.’ disguised to tell you that you are surrounded by enemies, ‘ -IlItI.lO warn you to be upon thevhas really resolved to give iookOut for them.’ I ' Eneinicsl’ ’ ‘ laskcd Margaret, when. Darnley had ' Yes, who are not far away.’ 'finifhed his relation. ‘Indecd! [knew not mail had an ‘ ‘I think he has, and that he no cnemy,’ spoke young Ainslie, who, ‘ more will Serve the villains he has as Well as the rest, now regarded 3 been working for.’ the youthful kingâ€"or peasant, as ‘Can we seehim and question they thought himâ€"with aston-l him?’ inquired Hugh. ' ishment. ‘ Yes, within the hour.’ 1 ' lint, nevertheless, vou haveâ€"w ‘ This is all very plansibleâ€"this and most inveterate and deadly ones, story you have been telling itsâ€"and if I mistake not,’ was the responseâ€" you have been straightfm'ward in the ‘eiieinics, it may be, who even new relation of it,’ said Hugh. ‘I believe seek your life.’ it may be true. ‘Moreover,you wear ‘ You :pcrtk in eniginas, Sirrah 1’ an honest countenance, unmarked by said old Hugh Drummond, while even a sign of villany! Neverthe- Margaret gaZed Upon the stranger less, we can scarcely place implicit Willi a blanched clieek,ns though the l faith in this tale withaut receiving very thought of harm to Edward further proof.’ , ' aroused licrcvery feeling. ' ‘ And you shall have it.’ ' Notwithstanding, I would be ‘ First, then, tell us your name ‘I say and residence.’ ' ‘ Wait a moment.’ Then taking a ring from one ofhis ‘ First re- savc you. Enemtcs,ev’cn hcre,iiithe‘ceive this; at least, keep it until I immediate neighborhood. I know can procure farther proof.’ this to be a fact ; and, further, I As he spoke he placed the rich and know that your life already has been Sparkling jewel .into the hand of sought.’ Hugh Drninmond. ‘Indeed !’ emlaimcd Ainslie. ‘ What have we here I’ surpris- ‘ \‘Vlio are you that you speak ingly inquired I‘Iugh,ashe examined tlius'l’ asked Margaret. ‘ “fill you the jew I. ‘It is the Signet ring of You are, Lord Daruley! How came you in you know, a stranger to us.’ possession of a jewel belonging to the ‘I know it, and will satisfy you king 7.’ bye-and-bye.’ ‘Who should have it ifnot myself, ‘ But how may we know you are who certainly have the best right to a friend ’lâ€"tliat you are not an in). it 2’ returned Darnlcy, meeting with posterâ€"that you are only seeking unqnailing eyes the glance of Hugh Drummond, as well as the steadfast gaze of his wife, Margaret» and Edward. ‘ ‘ replied. the bth: enemies, from 'whose deadly machinatitms, perhaps only vancc aims of your own l’ was the interrogatory of Hugh. _ ‘ As I have just said you shall be! ‘ This is bold language for a low fully satisfied before I go.’ born peasant boy,’ said Drummond. ‘Enough! I think you speak fairly ‘ ’ and honestly.’ stolen this, I know not which. 'I be- ‘Bot, tell me, how you know my gin‘ to lose confidence in all you life already has b:en sought?’ in- have heretofore said. Who are you P’ ‘ Strange as it may appear to you, I am the owner of that ring; ant what is stranger still,perhaps,despite ‘I know it, because] have this homely garb, donned to gratify an idle whim, I am the King of ‘I know it, because I have bccnit by a quick and alert movement, I ‘ Henry Stuart, the King of Scot- land !’ ejaculated both Margaret and Edward in astonishment, suddenly kneeling down. ‘ liven so,’ was the reply. you doubt it 5’ he said, Drummond. “I cannot,’ said Hugh, kneeling before him. you now ; I perceive you are indeed the king.’ g ‘ "l‘is well ; arise !’ All arose, and Hugh Drummond spoke. ‘ All this is an intricate problem to me unless you further cXpIain,’ spoke Edward Ainslie. ‘ Who is it that has sought my life? Who are At what time has my ‘ Do turning to ‘I will te'l you. Last night you I\Iailcolin ‘I did.’ ‘ Upon Some service for this gun- ‘ have spoken so nowhat roughly : but I might well doubt, constdcring all the circumstances, andâ€"’ ‘It is true: say no more ; there is nothing to forgive. I only wish you now may believe what I have toid,and all ofyou, govern yourselves accordingly.’ ‘ We may no longer doubt.’ ‘ Yes.’ ‘Yon passed through the forest beyond the inn of the ‘ Kilt and the Claymoic,’ both in going and re- turning 'l’ ‘ You are rightly informed.’ ‘ \Vitliiii that forest a hired assas- sin, who had watched your going in, lstood ready, upon your return, to deal you a deadly stroke. Coming along previous to yourself, I was mistaken for you. I should have fell beneath the ruffian’s dagger, but a .quick eye and a ready arm preserv- Ied me, and after a short struggle I longer; and it was finally agreed that I\IcDougall should be sent for, as it was believed he might be ofser- Vice, should {VICAIpine or the publi- can Venture upon further hostile movements. At length a loud conquered.’ knocking upon the door without at- t “them, the“, is me assassin, tractcd the attention of all ; and,_ a .now ’l’ moment after, a servant came in, stating that a young man was in waiting, wishing to see Hugh. ‘ Direct him in,’ was the answer of Drummond, and again the atâ€" tendant withdrew. ‘ i l ‘I made him my friend, and left {him at the inn where Ilast night ltarricd. His name is Donald Mr. Dougall. He is there now.’ ‘ Donald hicDougall !’ said Ed- ward. ‘ I know him well for a noto- rious Villain. But what could have been his object in seeking my life 'l’ ‘He was hired by others.’ i ‘ Indeed! who.” ‘ ‘ Andrew Elliott, the inn-keeper, and Robert McAlpine, your near neighbor.’ ‘Ha! I begin to see through the mazes of this dark and Villainous labyrinth l’ ‘ You will see more clearly when I have told you all,’ replied Darnley. ‘ Very well; go on.’ ‘I will do so.’ And, thereupon, Darnlcy proceed- ed te relate all that he had' learned of McDougall, and had afterwards gleaned from the; two leading mis- creants themselves. Further, he stated. that he had promised them ‘I hear strange news ofhimi’ that they should not be molested,un- ‘ Your Promise,i Said Darnley. less they again should seek the life I looking earnestly at 'Druminond.â€"â€" of the youth ; and he exacted from i ‘ Remetnbel‘ that i’ l 1 EdWard and Hugh Druminond :1 ‘Ah, yes; [had forgotten.’ ' promise that this word should not be ‘ And I bring strange news efboth CHAPTER VIII.â€" DAVIE LYTB.â€"-TH E CONSPIRACY. Scarcely a moment elapsed are again the servant appearedmsbering in our young friend, Davie Lyleâ€"- the lover of the pretty bar-maid, Mary Elliott. ‘Who have we here '1’ was the question of Hugh as Davie advanced ‘Ah '! it is Davie Lyle !’ said Margaret, with '3 pleasant smile. ‘I wish to. speak with Hugh Drummond, if I may be so bold,’said Davie. somewhat diffidcntly. ‘And‘ so it is Davie Lyle.’ said Hugh. ‘ Well, what would you any? Come you from the ion of Andrew [Elliott '!~’ ‘Yes.’ W MW... MWW~,â€".___._________~”_ . _/ . inane un- him and McA'lpine,’ said Davie. The discourse continued sometime’ l, [861. IE l ADVERTnnnr' fw/VV v wa vv VVVJ»W~../ VWW WVmA/fi",\ Agra, \ I \ ,VV,\/_\’,\fw.\l,v TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. Whole No.11 8. Counter CAT'I‘LErrâ€"Ifillti‘l‘c is one ‘ Indeed! what is it '7.’ asked Hugh. l thing in which the Argoviun takes ‘ Perhaps it should be told to you 1 particular pride, and in; which he ‘ But, McDougallâ€"think "you lie;al0ne,’ was the reply of Davie. up, his! .evil practices. from this time forth 1’ ‘ M’cAlpme.’ ‘Not if it concerns ‘ But it concerns thc‘wel Scotland as well.’ ‘And. perhaps the weal “of the king and queen also I’ ' ' ‘It does, the former in particular.’ ‘ Then you may speak out.’ ‘ But this stranger here,’ said Davie. ' ‘He is a friend of ours, and I know als» of Scotland’s king.’ " But I saw him in 'the inn last fare of night, and in; company “with McDougall. ' ‘ So he has told me. For all that 'he is true and loyal: but what would lyou tell me 'l’ ' ‘ Speak out boldly. Davin. I think I can entrust you with a so- cret which I would not every one. I' am here in'deep disguisc,aiid I am Henry Darnley l’ ‘ The King ofScotland !’ exclaim- ed Davie, and he started backre- Then, after a momentary pinse, he ‘continued, ‘ I’lien I may" speak without hesitation i" ' ‘ Go on,’ said Hugh. ‘By a most fortunate circum- stance,’ began Davie, ‘l have over- heard wm'ds betWecn Elliott and McAlpine, which reveals the exist-â€" ence of a dangerous conspiracyâ€"â€" the object of which,l am sure, is the assassination of your majesty.’ ‘This is indeed news ofa most im- portant character,’ spoke the king, ‘ and lurky for me it is that 1 came here", although governed only by a passing fancy in so doing. Go on, Davie ; tell me what vou heai'd.’ Elliott and'ofhis cattle. particularly excels, it, is in .the care They are elephants in size, and their glossy hich be- tuken some peculiar art on the part of their masters. Not a particle of dust or straw is allowed to cling to them, and they are combed and Washed as only horses are else; where, not with a curry-comb but with old cards, .which, being finer andsoftcr, are more agreeable to the animal, and improve the fine- ness ofthe hair. This receives an additional lustre by being‘rubbcd with o'd flannel. . They actual-iv shine ; and the gentle creatures have an evzdent consciousness of beauty, for they are careful not to SOll their asliy gray and eliestnnt robes by lying in‘ the mud when ‘31- lchd to take a walk. Animals can acquire, if they have not by nature, a fine sensibility, and when they have once experienced the pleasant sensation ofclcanincss, learn to take care of themselves. Not only do they exercise this care for the per4 son of the animal, but are at the pains of removing cVery feather and other unpalatable substance from their food ; and the water-troughs where they drink are kept as clean as if human beings resorted to them. If anybody doubts the efficacy of these means, let him come and see not only how large and how intelli- gert these dumb creatures look ; but how they watch every motion of - those who talk to them, and listen to all they say. What an affection- ate moan they will utter to welcome the milkers, “be are always men. It is said of them that an Argovian . ‘An hour ago,’ said Davie, ‘while will send for the doctor for his cow Slilllig, or rathel lying down Upon a great deal quicker than for his lof the ‘Kitt and the Claymoro,’ mg, lafter, I secreted myself behind a huge oak tree. They approached quite near, and then paused. could not leave without being seen, nor could I keep my .ears shut. In short, I heard ’lll that was said.â€" Eliiott and McAlpine are two of some forty conspirators, who have several times met at the ruined mill, beyond the inn to the right. Their object is your death, and the putting of Lord BothWell in your placeâ€"if the queen can be brought to favor him. I could not learn whether Botliwell is directly concerned in the plot or not; but thisI heard, that Itime to-night, at the midnight hour. - And I further heard that Elliott and McAlpine again meet at the oak tree, just after the sunset hour l’ ‘ But how do thev mean to bring Davie. ! ‘ They have some plausible story lpartly arranged, although I could ‘ Besides, I recognize the conspirators meet for tlze last; i ‘Pardon me, your majesty, if I'about my death 1’ asked Darnley of [not learn what it was, by which. they meant to draw you away from the palace upon the night in ques- tionâ€"~that is, two nights from this ; and a score of men are to be selected to dispa’ich you. when they have you in their power 1" ‘ A ‘most precious Drummond. ‘And one which shall be nipped in the bud, thanks to Davie,’ replied I Driri‘iley. . i ‘I learned that it has been exist- ling some Weeks. Further, a mes- senger is to be dispatched the after- noon preVious to the high they wish to leave Edii’iburgh. But they spoke not long upon the matter, and I could glean nothing more of im- porlancc.’ ‘ You have learned sufficient, Da- vie, to give us a chance to act, and H shall not forget, when I have lbrokcti up this treasonablé hand, the debt I shall be owing you,’ said I plot,’ said Dnruley pleasantly. {What think you of all this, friend Drummond 9’ ' To be continued. PUTTING DOWN A TOWN CLERK.â€" The town clerk is the permanent law-agent of the corporation. He keeps the minutes of council, prepares the burgh charters, and acts as legal assessor to the Magis- trates. The town-clerk cf sat as as- sessor to the Bailie Court, when the wife of a respectable burgess was brought up for engaging in a conflict with a neigbor regarding the possession of a pew in the parish church. On behalf of the magis- trate, the town clerk remarked that such unwarantable behavior was not to have been ekpected from a person in the defend- ant’s circumstances. “ Sit doun, than,” said the engaged burge‘ss’ wife “ I kent ye before ye had brccksl’ The argument was not very tenable, but it proved sufficient to silence the Court. the turf, beyond the hill to the left Wife; but we did not see any evi- . . . I dence that he was not sufficiently 'I‘is evident you have found or saw McAlpine and Elliottapproach~ attentive to both.â€"â€"T/tc Cottage: (3)“ Not wishing to be seen by the the flips, Aces 0F DISTINGUISHED MEN.â€" ’One of the fashionable annuals (‘ \Vl‘io’s Who’) has been at pains to co'lect and arrange the ages of dis- tingutshcd persons the realm. The tables are calculated from the birth- iday of each person during 1860.â€" It islstriking to note how advanced in years are most of the persons who hold coriSpicuous places. Look- ing at the Church we find the yodngest Archbishop [the Arch- bishop of York] is 66, while the Archbishop of Armagh is 87, the Archbishop ofCantcrbury is 80, and the Archbishop of Dublin is 73.â€" Thc oldest Bishop is the Bishop of Exeter, who iS'83; nine oiher bishops are '70 and upwards; and nine are 60 and upwards. The youngest is the Bishop of Carlisle, who is 43. The youngest Pear in Parliament is 2'2. The Duke of Argyll is 37, Earl Granville is 45, the Earl De Grey and Ripon 33, but most of the statesman class are old- er. The Earl of Derby is 61, the Marquis of Lansdowne 80, Earl of Carlisle, 58, Lord Chelmsford 66, the Earl of Clarendon 60, Earl Cow- ley 56. and the Earl of Ellenbotough 70. In the Com cons the scxagcna- rians abound. Among the younger men are the following :â€"-â€"Mr. Ad- derly 46, Mr. E. P. Bouverie 4‘), Mr. Bright 49, Sir H. Cairns 41, Mr. A. W'. Kinglakc 49, Mr. Lay. ard 43, Mr. Newdegnte 44, Mr. R. Osborne 47, Mr. F. Peel 38, Lord Stanley 34. Among the older men are Mr. F. Baines, who is 60, Sir R. Bethell 60, Mi. Cobdcn 56, Mr. __ “MWâ€"W. Wm-____,4 .Iblcd' the lips! Disraeli 55, Mr. S. Estcourt 59, Mr. W. J. Fox '74. Mr. M. Gibson 53, Mr. Gladstone 51. Sir W. Hayter 66, Mr. Sidney Herbert 50, Mr. Heisman 53, Sir F. Kelly 64, Sir G. Lewis 54, Sir E. B. Lytton 55, Mr. It. M. Milncs 51, Sir J. Pak- ington 61. Mr. Roebuck 57, Mr.’ The youngest member when the ses- sion begins, will be the new member for Ripon, who is 22. Sir C. Bur- well, the father of the House, is 86. The youngest of the English judges .is Baron \Vilde, who is 44, a year younger than Mr. Justice VVillcs. Sir J. Bruce is 69, Baron Channel 56, Sir A. Cockburn 58, Sir Cress- well CI‘CSSWCII 65, Chief Justice Eric 67, [light Hon. S. Lushington 78, Vice-Chancellor “'00d 59. - lu Denmark, though the Danes are well iti- formed in general, as foolish notions prevails that epilepsy is curable by drinking the blood of an executed malefactor, Capital punishâ€" ment in Denmark is by decapitation by sword and block, and when an execution takes place, lcrowds. of epileptic: stand cup in hand around ‘Walpole 54, and Sir C. Wood 60. l the scaffold ready to quafl’ the rod blood as it -flows from the still quivering body of the me.â€" lefactqr. mags. v ,..-. ,k.:.'-.:' .a ,.~,~..-'q~ A ~w.‘ V_ _. THE» HUMAN EYE. The eyes ofmen converse as much as their tongues, With the advantage that the ocular dialect needs; no dice tionary, ' but is understood all the world over. When liztlie eyes say one thing, and the tongue another, a practical man relies on the languo age of the first. If the man is off his centre, the eyes show it. You can read in the eyes of your cem- panion whether your argument hits him,tliough his tongue ‘vviil noted?)â€" .fess it. _ There is a look‘bv which’a man showsvbc is going to say agoo’d thing, and a look when he has said it. Vain and forgotten are all fine offers and offices of hospitality, if there is no holiday in the eye. How- meny furtive inclinations are avowed by the eye though dissem- One comes away from a‘ company, in which, it any easily happen, he has, said nothing, and no important remark has been ad lrcsscd to him, and yet, iflin sym- pafhy with the society:,__h’e 'shall not have a sense of thisi'la'ch sheriff’s. stream cf life has beenflowing into him, through the eyes. 'I’liei'eiare eves, to be sure, that give no more admission into a: man than blue-ber- ries. ,‘Otlie‘r's are ‘iiqmd and deep-:â€" wells that a men might fall into-e,- ,others areaggressive and devouring seem to call out the police,'tako‘all ways, and the security of millions, to protect individuals against them. The military eye I meet, now darkly sparkling under clerical, now Under rustic bowers. "I’isg the city of Laeedmmon; ’tisa stack of bayonet’s- There are asking cyes,assci‘tiiig eyes ' prowling cycs,‘and eyes full of fate, 4â€"-some of good, some of sinister omen. The alleged power to charm down insanity, or ferosity in beasts, is a power behind the eye. It must be a victory achieved in the-will, be- fore it can be sigriificd in tlie.-~Ralp IVaZdo Emerson. _ > THE SHADOWS WE CAST. __ . ,, In this world of sunshine We cast shadows on those around us, and re- ceive shadows from them in return. There is no pathway‘in life'but what. is'somctimcs in the shade, and there is no one who Walks over these paths it matters not which way they tend who does not now and then cast his shadows with the rest. How often do we, by-a mere thoughtless word or a careless act, cast a shadow On some heart which is longing for sun- light. How often doesthe husband by a cold greeting cast a gloom over the happy, and trusting face ofthis young wife, who it may be, has waited anxiously for the first sound of his footsteps to give him a joyful welcome to his home. How often hasthc parent by a harsh reproof, chilled the overflowing spirit of con- fidence and love which is bubbliiig up from the fountains of the heart of the innocent prattlers at his knee. How often are the rays of hope torn from the clinging grasp of the soul of those worn out by poverty and by the never ending conflict of life, by the stinging ridicule or the sordid avarice of those whom the world honorsâ€"aye, loves to honor. How often does the childâ€"even after it has grown to the full bloom of man-p hood, and is clad in garments of’ strength and. beautyâ€"bring sorrow-r to the parent already tottering 0n thc'brink ofeternity. Then beWare,.. lest you cast a deeper shadow over those which are already darkening his happiness. The shadows we.- castâ€"â€"-can we escape them? Can we look back as we Walk on in life’i. journey, and see no shadowy mark. about our footprintsi ASTHMA AND CONSCMPTION.â€"-It is a settled fact in medicine, one of frequent record and of constant oc- currence, that a consumptiue who becomes an asthmatic, will, with great certainty, get well of his con- sumption, asthma being essentially and under all circumstances antago-~ nistic of consumption. In consume tion a man cannot get in enough air; in asthma he cannot get it out. In asthma the lungs are too full of air; in consumption not full enough. Being so full, distended by the con- fined air, that distension after a while» becomes permanent, the asthma dco' clines, leavtng the lungs with a larg- er capability of receiving air than is natural ; hence, although the lungs may have partly decayed away, those which remain, have greater capabilities, a man may have good health, who had actually lost part of his lungs by consumption.â€"-Hall’s Journal! of Health. Seanceâ€"Knocking at; the wrong door, and hesitating whether you will run‘ a way and say nothing about it, or stay and apologise. I Crossing the road nutili you see a gig coming one wayland a cab another, so that if you move on yod are sure to be knocked down by one, and you stand still you may possibly be crush-3 ed by both. Finding yourself in a damp bed on a cold night, and cogitating weth‘er you will lie still and catch your death, or' get up and dress, and pass the night on two caneâ€"bottomed ch‘a‘irs. Coming to four cross roads, one of wnich you must: take by random, or just walk back a mile 10: um and inquire your way.