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forehead; his while hands are crossed upon his bosom. Willie is not any more a child in the world, but an angel in heaven, with a bright crown upon his beautiful head, and a golden harp in bis bands.
Maybe, it was from Willie's harp, that Buch soft music came last night, seeming to float through the chamber, when bis mother, weary with sorrowful watching, closed her eyes, for a few moments, and dreamed of her lost darling. But Willie now lies cold in his mamma's bed, and his little white crib is vacant. Only Carlo creeps closely beside it, placing his paws on the low pillow, and moaning for his absent playmate. And now, outside the house, how solemnly the carriages are drawn up in the street, one behind another—a long line, reaching from the great hall door to the corner; ay, and around past the alley, that leads to a row of wretched tenant-houses, a square in the rear. The coachmen sit silently upon their boxes, looking up at the closed blinds of the splendid mansion. They know that within the carved doors are many sorrowing hearts.
Sorrowing indeed 1—around the little rosewood coffin, wherein is lying a beautiful sunnyhaired boy, with eyelids sealed forever to the light of earth: mourners, weeping for the departed; friends, who rejoiced so lately in his presence; playmates, of a short month since, who cannot believe their favourite gone.
The good minister opens the Holy Book, and prays fervently beside the bier, speaking softly of our blessed Jesus, who loved little children so tenderly upon earth, and calls them to himself in the bright immortal heaven.
Now, the pale mother kisses her boy for the last time; the little coffin is lifted very gently, and placed under its velvet pall. Slowly and solemnly, then, through the long streets, Willie is borne away to the silent tomb.
Birds sing still among the evergreens of the cemetery, though russet leaves are piled upon the graves, over which also flowers have been scattered by the hand of affection. But the mother of little Willie heeds not the singing birds, and the flower-cups are to her only as withered leaves.
Chap. III.—"god Temfkus Tub Wind."
"It is all over! Was that harsh grating of earth upon the coffin-lid the last sound that shall ever connect the living with the dead? Is the darling one folded away from earth, henceforth forevcrmore r"
The mother of Willie falls back upon the cushions of her carriage, with a desolate sinking of the heart. She strives to hide the sorrow that she cannot hush.
Thus, away from the place of tombs, and back to the city, the carriages of mourners and friends were hurriedly whirled, That one only which contained the bereaved mother, was tardy on its way | for the old servant who sat upon the box t>*d no heart to urge hit hortei to a rapid pace,
The slow ferry was crossed, and at length the coach rattled through paved streets of the great town.
Very quiet, upon the carriage rug, at the feet of bis late play-fellow's mother, the little dog Carlo lay, with head resting on his crossed paws. At intervals the poor animal would lift his eyes to the face of his mistress, as if sympathizing in her grief for Willie.
At last, the carriage was"drawn up before the house, whence it had followed the sable-plumed hearse, and the mother of the dead alighted at her own door. It was quite dusk. Indeed, the gas-lights began to gleam far down the streets, making luminous vistas upon the walks. One bright lamp centred its rays upon the broad white steps of the lady's mansion, up which Carlo the dog leaped quickly, whilst the sad mother ascended with slow steps, weary _ from long vigils of sorrow.
Suddenly, little dog Carlo stopped, and barked sharply—then looked around and downward to attract the notice of his mistress; who raised her eyes, and saw upon the marble steps a sight that .caused her to tremble with strange emotion. A little boy was lying upon the white door 6tone, even as her dead darling had reclined upon his bier; his arms folded over his bosom, his eyes closed, and their long lashes resting upon cheeks pale as the marble which they pressed. Ringlets, like those of the lost one, clustered in disorder around the forehead of this stranger child, and a smile dwelt upon its sealed lips, even as those of her dear Willie, now shrouded away, beneath his flower-crowned tomb. The sorrowing mother clasped her hands, as she regarded the little boy, reposing thus, like death, upon the threshold, and then, yielding to a pitying impulse, sank on her knees beside him, murmuring—" Is this poor child likewise with the dead?"
Carlo the dog barked shrilly, and, leaping on his mistress, began to lick the face of the poor little sleeper, who opened his eyes in astonishment and terror.
"O mother!" he murmured, lifting his delicate hands—" when will you come to your Willie?"
"Willie!-Willie!" sobbed the lady; and she clasped the outstretched hands of the young outcast; for, alas! this child, lying at her door, was only that orphan boy whose mother had been carried from her squalid bed in the tenanthouse, and who had been wandering through the city streets, till at last, from weariness, he bad fallen asleep upon these marble steps. His small feet were naked and bruised by the harsh stones, over which they had travelled. His clothes were rent and soiled, and very neglected was his whole appearance; for he had known no mother's care during the long weeks of the widow's|sickness.&But ye£his smile was beautiful, and his voice touohingly soft, while he murmured—
"Mother! dear mother! when will God find you for me?" Was that tattered and desolate outcast a met* senger of comfort vouchsafed to the stricken mother, who had just laid her darling in the graver Was he sent by the angel Willie, to the door of herlonesome home? May-be it was only fancy; but the lady seemed to hear, as she rose from beside the stranger-child, with prayer on her lips and her eyes lifted to heaven—she seemed to hear a silver-toned whisper, falling like a note of music through the dusky air, and saying to her heart—" Remember Willie 1" Did Carlo hear it, too, that he stood so quietly, his paws upon the breast of the boy-outcast, and looked up pleadingly, with his black eyes, to the face of his weeping mistress?
Much the good coachman wondered, when his lady bade him lift the child tenderly, and carry him into the hall. And much the servants of the mansion marvelled to see that little orphan one, after a few days, clothed in garments like those of their departed Willie, and gam
bolling with the dog Carlo over the greensward But the young stranger soon became a favourite among the household, and, in his love and gratitude toward his protectors, there seemed always to enter something of a higher spirit, as if he were indeed a link of remembrance, and a medium of blessing between Willie in the angslworld, and his beloved mother upon earth.
And not alone this little waif, adopted from the threshold, but many another poor neglected child of the great city, had cause for gratitude, deep and abiding, that the lady of the marbk mansion now bowed her heart to the holy inflaence of charity. Many an outcast did she seek out and rescue from the by-ways of suftenr.j, uplifting their sad hearts to thankfulness, and their souls nearer to the light of heaven, when dwells in happiness her own dear absent Willie, rescued and cherished by Jesus, the lover of children.
OUR LIBRARY TABLE.
Quarterly Magazine Op The IndePendent Order Of Oddfellows. (Manchester.)—In the current number of this quarterly the Editor (Mr. Hardwick, who has done and is still doing so much in the interest of the Society of which this publication is the organ, and who has made many sagacious revelations on the subject of friendly-society finance) draws attention to the false principles of many competing clubs, which profess to give, on impossibly-inadequate terms, advantages equal to those in which the terms of membership are much higher. For a common subscription of sixpence a week, and an initiation-fee of half-acrown, from young men who join between the ages of eighteen and thirty, the following benefits are promised, viz.:
Ten shillings a week during all sickness; ten pounds on the death of a member or his wife, and five pounds on the death of a member's widow. In addition to these insurances, free medical attendance and medicine are provided, as well as relief to those travelling in search of employment.
The working-expenses of the Society are to be paid out of the money thus raised, and "the only recognition," says the writer, "of the startling truth that, as men grow older, they are liable to increased incapacity to labour, owing to sickness," &c, is to be found in an announcement that persons joining between the age of thirty and forty are required to pay a double entrance-fee. Very forcefully the author of the forthcoming "Manual of Friendly Societies" shows the utter fallacy of such a scheme, and the impossibility of a pitiful half-crown paying the difference in the liability of a man entering
at eighteen years of age, and of another who joins at the advanced age of forty:
The value of the young man's life, on his joiaJr the Society, is more than forty years; -while that a his elder brother 13 worth little more than fire-aaitwenty! The liability to the payment of the mortalirrinsurance in the latter case is fifteen years nearer tksa in the former, and yet a portion of the said half-crowr, is presumed to be sufficient to form an equitaU: equivalent to the young man's fifteen years' annuil contribution for this purpose.
The writer then goes on to point out that tb« young man's liability to sickness for the first twenty years after entrance is little more than sixteen weeks, while the liability of the man entering at forty, for,' the first' twenty years of his membership, is more than forty weeks:
Yet the remaining fraction of the aforesaid halfcrown is coolly presumed to be sufficient to meet tfe demand for the additional .twenty-four weeks' pay, si the rate of ten shillings per week, as well as to provide for the still heavier sickness after age aiity! Of course it results that the young men's early subscriptions are appropriated to the liquidation ofc the demands of their elder brethren (r1)—and when their time of heavier sickness comes, they will find the club bankrupt, like hundreds that have gone before i', or else that they have been compelled to continue tki "sell" on other young men who have followed is their wake.
Ignorant of financial laws, members rush to join these unsound clubs which promise impossibilities; but, by-and-bye, when young men are sufficiently educated to understand these laws, they will carefully examine the foundation on which such specious promises are built, and "recognize themselves the absolute necessity, as well as the equity, of a graduated scale of in-payments according to age on entry." Amongst several amusing articles we particularly notice a paper, by Mr. W. F. Peacock, entitled "Up Cader Idris Overnight," which contains some nice descriptive paragraphs, and is generally interesting. "A Tale without a Title" is continued. Miss J. Munro contributes a sketch of travel from her inexhaustible repertoire of South African scenery. Mrs. C. A. White gives a short paper on the " Flora of the Sea-side," and Mr. John Ingram an amusing one, aptly entitled " Amongst some Oddfellows," in which a numerous procession of traditional monsters, bearing some affinity to the human race, pass before us—giants nine feet high— dwarfs short of three feet—Cynocephali (or dog-headed people)—Monoscelli (who have but one leg each)—Sciopodes (who lie on their backs at the hottest season of the year, and make umbrellas of their huge feet)—goat-like creatures with men's faces, and others again headless, but with eyes and mouths in their breasts—a description that tallies with that of St. Augustin, who, in his thirty-third sermon, entitled to his " Brothers in the Desert," testifies that when he went into Ethiopia to preach the Gospel, he saw many men and women without heads, who had two large eyes in their chest. Altogether, this is a good number, and very agreeable reading.
English Woman's Rbview.—(London: 23, Great Marlborough-street, Regent-street, W. Kent Of Co., Paternoster-row.)—The first article in the current part of this quarterly (the claims of which to the interest and encouragement of our feminine readers we pointed out in a previous number of our magazine) draws attention, under the title of "A False Principle," to the presumed fact that, in practice, the happiness of women is less considered than the happiness of men. In the first place the author illustrates her statement by reference, to the system prevalent in a certain asylum for the deaf and dumb, where the boys who discover talent (and these unfortunates have very often a keen perception of form and colour) are taught to draw and design, and, in after-life, obtain a livelihood by illustrating newspapers and serials, and by making designs for manufacturers, "by which means they earn excellent wages and are employed in a manner which is not disagreeable to them, and in which the sense of their infirmity is not constantly pressed painfully upon them."
The girls, however, in the same institution, are taught little drawing, and hecome, in after-life, ser vants and dressmakers. Now it is difficult to see why the girls should not be taught drawing as well as the boys, unless the above doctrine comes into play. Wood-engraving is an excellent employment for women—numbers of women, not deaf and dumb, engage in the occupation and earn good wages. It is oae of the few trades which possess no drawbacks for.
women, being healthy, clean, and capable of execution at home. Deaf and dumb women may make good dressmakers, but one can hardly [imagine how they can be employed as servants. No mistress who could afford to give ordinary wages would take a deaf and dumb servant, except out of charity, and it would be a most severe exercise of that virtue to engage a woman who could neither answer a bell, take a message, nor understand a direction, unless it was written down.
The writer suggests that as many as possible of the girls who discover a taste for them, should be taught " wood-engraving, designing, or some other pleasant trade, more or less connected with the arts, such as glass-engraving, ivorycarving"—anything, in fact, would be preferable to domestic service for these unfortunates ; and perhaps this idea is making its way in the minds of the executive; for the census shows us that eleven deaf and dumb women are at present employed as upholstresses; but while 63 men are engaged as "painters, engravers, lithographers, wood-carvers, modellers, designers, and draughtsmen, no women are thus employed." Wig-making employs thirteen deaf and dumb men, and the writer sensibly suggests that this trade offers a suitable employment for such women also. Passing from the exemplification of the principle, that "the happiness of women is of less importance than the happiness of men," in the case of the deaf and dumb, the author goes on to show that there is no subject on which this false principle more distinctly shows itself than in discussions on the employment of women. She quotes from "The Children of Lutetia," Blanchard Jerrold's account of the decline of wages in the Paris glovetrade since the introduction of women-workers, and reminds us that the persons who have real cause of complaint are the women into "whose special trade of needlework men have introduced themselves." From the earliest ages the needle has been specially appropriated to women. The writer then goes on to show the causes that have gradually tended to wrest the exclusive use of it from her hands—causes which threaten, it appears, to deprive her shortly of that most feminine calling the business of dress-making. One West-end tailor, it appears, has already introduced the trade in his establishment, and we may now look for the gradual spread of what is assumed to be a profitable innovation. The writer goes on to show why greater excellence is attainable by men in this competition for women's work than by women themselves. The lucidity and carefulness with which this article is written would tempt us to follow it to the end did our space allow of our doing so; as it is, we can only quote the following passage:
One reason of his (the man's) success is probably the greater length of time which men remain in the trade compared to the time women remain. The number of milliners and dressmakers of the age of 20 is 68,634 j the number of the age of 40, is 17,715. The number of tailors of the age of 20 is 12,220; the number at 40 is 12,110, Thus, if a head-milliner sUrts with sixteen young women in her employment, at the cud of twenty years only four of these experienced hand9 will remain; the other twelve workers will be comparatively new hands. If a mastertailor has siitecn young men in his employment, at the end of twenty years he will still have fifteen of them left: only one new hand will be required, unless his custom has increased. It is evident, therefore, that first-rate tailors have a terrible advantage over first-rate milliners; and one fears that, both in London and Paris, the milliners must eventually succumb, in a great measure, to their male rivals.
The long resume, entiled "Public Opinion on Questions concerning Women," is wholly taken up with the subject of the suffrage for women, and the bias of the various journals and reviews with regard to the subject. The "Westminster Review" is quoted in its favour, and gives sound and well-considered grounds for its arguments, and for its faith in the righteousness and wisdom of the measure. The concluding paragraph will show their drift:
The homes of the working-classes, education, factory acts (regulating the labour of women and children), sanitary laws, water supplies, drainage (all municipal legislation, in fact), the whole administration of the poor-laws, with its various subdivisions— care of the pauper-sick, pauper-schools, &c.—all these are subjects which already, by common consent, are included in the peculiarly feminine province of home and charity. If the possession of a vote should induce more women to extend their interest to the comfort and happiness of other homes besides their own, it will certainly not have exercised a deteriorating influence on their character.
The Times, whilst acknowledging the fact that men monopolise the national spoil with shameful greediness (?), that of the seventy millions raised by taxation (if the dividends be deducted of which women get their share) they do not get a hundredth part.
Even in our great commercial undertakings, such as railways, they arc not employed, though thousands are, in France. Their wrongs are great, and our laws bear on their very face the stamp of man-made-law. But nevertheless, strong as the case may be, it only proves to us that women should be more cared for—not that Ihey should be invited to care for themselves.
And the writer thence diverges to scathe the idea of suffrage for women with what is evidently meant for withering sarcasm. We are not able to follow the reasonings of the "Contemporary Review," the "Sunday Magazine," "Fi-aser's Magazine," and the Weekly Dispatch, all of which advocate the belief that a new and better political element is wanted—and the want points to the enfranchisement of woman.
The Editor of the "Englishwoman'* Review" suggests the getting up of local petitions, the form of which is given in the current part.
ANNUAL REPORT OF THE ROYAL NATIONAL LIFE-BOAT INSTITUTION, 1867.
The details of the current report are of the most satisfactory description, and exhibit an ever-widening sympathy on the part of individuals, public bodies, and provincial townships, with the objects of this nobly conceived and a nobly maintained Institution. Thirty-three ner life-boats have been built during the past year, and the Insituaon now numbers a fleet of one hundred and seventy-four life-boats; but large as the number looks, and bravely as they are manned, the Wreck Register of the Board of Trade shows the sum total of 1,787 shipwrecks, and the loss of 602 lives, against 17 vessels and 426 lives saved by the gallant life-boats men in the past year. Every new life-boat (or the means of building one) given to the Institution strengthens our seaports and coast-viliages with enlarged power to aid imperilled ships and their crews. A new station is opened, from time to time, and the boat (franked to her destination by our great steam and railway companies) is received in triumph by her future guardians. The day of her arrival becomes a local holiday. She is drawn to her place of shelter on beach or strand, amidst the heartprayers and plaudits of the people. And brare men are never wanting to form a crew; for the Life-Boat Institution is in some sort a school of heroism and humanity, and its honorary medals and awards, prizes to be fought for at risk of life itself. Nor does it only encourage the persons in connection with its own machinery, "495 lives were rescued last year by fishing boats and other means, a result accruing from the rewards bestowed by the Institution" on all who are instrumental in saving life from shipwreck on ourcoast. We have so recently drawn attention to this great national undertaking for the succour of our ships and seamen, that we must refer our readers to the report itself for the interesting statistics in connection with it.
Donations and annual subscriptions will be thankfully received by all bankers in town and country and by the Secretary, Richard Lewis Esq., at the office of the Institution, 14, Johnstreet, Adelphi, London.
On the 25th of August, the great annual fair, which was instituted in honour of the good and pious St. Hilda, has been held at Whitby ever since the days of Henry the Second. Paltry, indeed, are the amusements, business and mirth, which now characterize these yearly gatherings in comparison with those of former days. The granting of a fair was considered a great boon to the neighbourhood, as attracting the wandering merchants with their goods, and enabling the housewives of the district to lay in their yearly stores without the long ride on the pillion through the miry and almost impassible bog», which surrounded this out-of-the-world place. Money exchanged hands, news of six month's date was made public, and not the least jolly and important personages were the monks of the Abbey. This beautiful monastic pile had its origin in the great battle which was fought on the site of the modern Leeds, by Oswy, King of Northumbria, against three other kings. According to the fashion of those times, he devoted his little daughter to be immured in a nunnery if God gave him the victory, and placed her under the care of the noble and saintly Hilda, who chose "the site of Streoneshalk or Whitby, for the new Monastery.
The celebrated Hilda, was the niece of Edwin King of Northumbria, to whom Paulinus had long preached the Gospel; but the monarch wishing to consider the subject well before he decided, called a wiltenagemot or parliament, where the christian Bishop, and Coifi, the high priest of the Pagan worship should discuss together. The former carried the day, and Coifi himself going over to the popular side led his priests to the holy sanctuary of the gods, near the village of Godmanham, in Yorkshire, where they demolished the altars, broke down the hedges, and the idols. The same memorable day saw Edwin and Hilda baptised, and shortly after Paulinus is said to have performed the same ceremony for ten thousand persons in one day in the river Swale. Hilda resolving to devote herself to religion retired to France, where she was Abbess of Cole, until the wishes of Aidan induced her to return to her own country. The veneration with which her name has been regarded, prove that her virtues were of no ordinary character; for centuries after her death the people loved to think that she still hovered over the spot where so many of her charities had been performed. During the summer months about ten in the morning the sunbeams fall on the inside of the northern part of the choir of the church, and a person standing on the west of the churchyard can imagine a resemblance to a female figure wrapped
a shroud appearing in the highest window of
the abbey; this rejection of the sun's rays is supposed to be St. Hilda in her glorified state. The miracles she performed are of the most wonderful description; the ammonites or snake stones, which are so plentiful on this coast, owe their origin to the snakes which infested the neighbourhood, and were driven over the cliffs by the prayers of Hilda, and losing their heads were transformed into stones. More interesting to us is the fact that here, in 664, was held that famous synod to settle the disputes about the time of keeping Easter, and the mode of administering baptism, when one of the Romish party quoted the saying of our Lord to St. Peter about the keys. "Well then," said Oswy, " I tell you that he is a porter, I will not contradict; but to the utmost of my knowledge will obey all his statutes, but perhaps, when I come to the gates of heaven, there be none to open to me, being at variance with him who holds the keys." Henceforth the Saxon Church was merged into the Roman; to this change Hilda, as well as the venerable Colman, were much opposed.
The beautiful and romantic glen of Hackness.with its steep hills covered with the richest vegetation, through which the Derwent gently glides, offered a delightful solitude to Hilda, towards the close of her life. Here she erected a nunnery or cell and called the place Hactenus, afterwards corrupted into its present name; though some think it was derived from Hawkne6s or headland, as four centuries afterwards William Rufus used to come here for the purpose of hawking. In 680 this celebrated lady died at the age of sixty-six.
Under the rule of the proud Wilfrid, Bishop of Northumbria, Whitby became celebrated for its learned inmates; six were appointed to bishoprics, and our earliest Saxon poet Csedmon sang his holy hymns within its walls. He began a translation of the Scripture into metre in the vulgar tongue, and it is said that Milton himself borrowed some of his lofty thoughts from the old monk; but the incursions of the Danes brought ruin and destruction to the peaceful home, and in 867 the whole province was laid waste, the monastery abandoned and left to decay. The Norman monks of the Benedictine orderrebuilt it in 1078, the land having been granted to William de Percy by the Conqueror. This ancestor of the great Earls of Northumberland died near Jerusalem, during the Crusade; but was a most liberal benefactor of the Priory, and appointed his brother Serlo, the Prior. Once more was it attacked by the Norwegians in 1175, who pillaged it of all its possessions and laid the surrounding country waste; but a period was put to its misfortunes, for ever after