"Well, then, clerk in an office." "No, no; I am not fit for that. What are you doing? I should be satisfied to do as you do, for a time."

"You don't mean that!" said Jem; "and yet you ate that there pudden, and said how good it was."

"Yes, and I should be glad to earn another-anyhow that I can do it honestly.' "Ah, but you don't know what sort of work mine is. It is hurrying, tiring work, and precious little to be got by it, though I stand at it from daylight to dark."

"Never mind, I should like to try." "Come along, then," said Jem. "It's time I went in again; you can come with me if you like-that is to say, if you ain't above it. I dare say they will set you on." (To be continued.)

But watch the creature in its natural attitudes when it is not alarmed, and it will assume a very different character.

You may see it flying in the dusk of the evening, not with a swift, but with a firm and sustained flight, and you may admire the beauty of the spread wings, which it never displays on the kitchen floor. You may see it daintily washing and combing itself, for it is fastidiously cleanly in its personal habits, and you may notice it raised high over its shining legs, look ing alertly about it, while its slender antenna are waved here and there in a wonderfully intelligent manner.

"blood

pinch on the forefinger, raising a blister," and causing no small pain. It is quite as cheap, if not cheaper, to buy SETTING-BOARDS as to make them, which requires all sorts of tools and appliances. So, unless you have access to a carpenter's workshop, do not make your own setting-boards. When I was young and inexperienced I thought that to make the boards must be cheaper than to buy them; so I made them, and they cost about three times as much as if I had bought them ready-made.

For these, therefore, I recommend the dealers; and as the prices are much the same at all of them, and none would dare, even if they wished, to sell an inferior article, any dealer will answer the purpose.

Setting-boards are always made of cork fixed. upon flat boards, and they may be roughly reduced to two kinds, namely, Flat and Grooved

SERVING INSECTS.

BY THE REV. J. G. WOOD, M. A., F.L.S.

II. SETTING.

E insects being procured and killed, they must now be "set"-i.e., arranged so as to exhibit them to the best advantage.

Now it must be taken for granted that the attitude of an insect in a cabinet is generally an artificial and conventional one, and not that which is assumed by the living creature. This must necessarily be the case, but it is always advisable to set one specimen of each species in its natural attitudes.

"setting-boards," we must have pins, and we must have some receptacles for the insects when they are set and dried.

The first necessities are PINS. Common pins should never be used for the insects, as they are much too largo and clumsy for piercing insects, though they will do well enough for fixing "braces." Entomological pins alone should be used, which may be obtained from the dealers at a moderate price. They are sold by weight, mixed pins costing one shilling per ounce, and the various sizes being priced according to the number in each ounce. Gilt pins are a comparatively late invention. They cost one shilling per ounce additional, but, if I were now to begin a collection, I should use no other pins but the gilt.

attitude.

Take, for example, a Red Underwing. In its flying attitude the creature displays the splendid colouring of the hind wings, and appears to be a very conspicuous insect. But, when the wings are closed, it diminishes to half its size, the fiery red disappears, and it looks more like a rough piece of brown bark than an insect.

Similarly, the Buff-tip, when its wings are spread, is a large and handsome moth, but when they are folded along the sides the insect looks just like a piece of decayed stick, the buff coloured tips of the wings exactly resembling the broken end of the stick. I am sure that nine persons out of ten, unless they happened to be entomologists, would pass it without notice, even if their eyes happened to rest upon it.

Then there are the Snout-moths, which fly near the ground, and suddenly settle and disappear as if by magic. Their wings are broad and ample in proportion to their size, but when they are folded the moth looks so like a large grass seed and so unlike an insect that it mostly escapes detection.

Batterflies, again, which close their wings over their backs while resting, and therefore only exhibit the under surfaces, assume an aspect quite different from their appearance in flight. When the upper surface is brightly coloured, as in the Scarlet Admiral or the Peacock, and the under surface is little but plain brown, grey and black, the alteration of appearance is almost incredible.

verdigris will increase to such an extent that it half covers the insect, and cannot be removed without injuring it. Besides, the pin is made

so brittle that when touched it breaks within the

insect's body, and so the specimen is hopelessly spoiled.

Gold, however, does not produce verdigris, and even the slight coating of gold which is deposited on the pins is sufficient to protect the baser metal within from oxydation. Moreover, they have a very pretty effect, and give a finished look to the specimen.

Scarcely less necessary than pins are PLIERS. These are chiefly required when the position of an insect has to be shifted. Entomological pins are so slight, some of them being scarcely thicker than hairs, that they can bear scarcely any pressure, and if the collector tries to force them into the cork by the head, they will bend. The pins must be seized below the insect, and for this purpose an instrument is needful.

Special forceps are sold by the dealers, and are very useful, but I never employ anything but a pair of ordinary "long-nosed" pliers. These can be used for many other purposes, and after a little practice can be manipulated by one hand with the greatest delicacy.

In fact, they are held very much as a Chinese holds his chopsticks. One handle is secured between the thumb and first joint of the forefinger, the back of the middle finger rests against the inside of the other handle, so as to open it, and the end of the forefinger comes against its back so as to close it. Spring pliers have been recommended, but they are quite needless, the middle finger serving the same

If a new pair of pliers be bought, the joint should be oiled, and the handles repeatedly

The former are nothing but sheets of cork, fastened to boards, and covered with white paper. They are principally used for setting insects in the walking attitude, but are of little service when a moth or butterfly, or beetle, has to be set with spread wings. For this purpose the grooved board is required, and is either flat or saddle-shaped, the latter being more generally used.

Here is a section of a saddle-backed settingboard, the body of the insect resting in the central groove, and the wings lying on the surface at either side. The curved outline, which. has given the name of saddle-back to the board, produces a better effect than a flat surface.

Cork

Wood

Setting-boards vary in price from sixpence to two shillings, all being fourteen inches long, but differing in width. They are made of uniform length, so as to fit into the drying-box, which will be presently described.

You must have a number of "braces" ready cut. These should be made of cardboard-old postcards (the thicker kind) answer admirably. the same width throughout. Formerly I was Do not cut them too short, and make them of accustomed to ent them wedge-shaped, and have a single pin at the broad end; but I am sure that and have a pin at each end. it is a better plan to cut them of the same width, A plentiful supply of braces should always be at hand. SETTING-NEEDLES will be found very convenient, and can be made as follows.

from splitting.

Cut off the charged end of a lucifer-matchBryant and May's are the best-and wrap about the sixth of an inch with cotton to prevent it dipped into glue or varnish, and then rolled If the wrapped thread be between the finger and thumb, it will look better and be much stronger.

Now get a fine sewing-needle, and, with the aid of the pliers, force the eye end into the match, taking care to keep it in the centre, so that it may not lean to one side. It is as well to prepare half a dozen of these, as they are always convenient, and very easily made. I also recommend that a much larger instrument should be made with a darning or carpet-needle and a wooden penholder handle. It is wonderfully useful, not only for the actual setting, but for subsidiary work. BLOTTING-PAPER will also be wanted, as we (To be continued.) ·

shall see presently.

WHALE-FISHING ADVENTURES. BY CAPTAIN SCORESBY, F.R.S.

N

example, the common Cockroach. Our ideas are

and awkward, and if they slip will inflict a nasty

pooners belonging to the "Resolution," of Whitby, under my command in the Northern

Whale Fishery, struck a whale by the edge of a small floe of ice; assistance being promptly forced, a second Loat's lines were a tacl ed to those of the fast-boat in a few minutes after the harpoon was discharged; the remainder of the boats proceeded to some distance in the direction which the fish seemed to have taken.

In about a quarter of an hour, the fast-boat, to my surprise, again made a signal for lines. As the ship was then within five minutes' sail, we instantly steered towards the boat, with the view of affording assistance by means of a spare boat we still retained on board.

Before we reached the place, however, we observed four oars displayed in signal order, which, by their number, indicated a most urgent necessity for assistance. Two or three men were

prevented the crew from leaping upon the floe. Some of them were therefore put to the necessity of swimming for their preservation, but all them succeeded in scrambling upon the ice, and were taken on board the ship in a few minutes.

It may be here observed, that it is an uncommon circumstance for a fish to require more than two boats' lines in such a situation; none of our harpooners, therefore, had any scruple in leaving the fast-boat, never suspecting, after it had received the assistance of one boat with six lines, or upward, that it would need any more. Several ships being about us, there was a possibility that some person might attack and make a prize of the whale, when it had so far escaped us that we no longer retained

and this, with six or eight lines out, was dragged forward into the shattered floe with astonishing force. Pieces o ice, each of which we.e suffi ciently large to have answered the purpose of a mooring for the ship, were wheeled about by the strength of the whale; and such was the tension and elasticity of the line, that whenever it slipped clear of any mass of ice, after turning it round into the space between any two adjoining pieces, the boat and its crew flew forward through the crack with the velocity of an arrow, and never failed to launch several feet upon the first mass of ice that it encountered.

While we scoured the sea around the broken floe of the ship, and while the ice was attempted in vain by the boats, the whale continued to press forward in an easterly direction towards

at the same time seen seated close by the stern, which was considerably elevated, for the purpose of keeping it down, while the bow of the boat, by the force of the line, was drawn down to the level of the sea, and the harpooner, by the friction of the line round the bollard, was enveloped in smoky obscurity.

At length, when the ship was scarcely one hundred yards distant, we perceived preparations for quitting the boat. The sailors' pea-jackets were cast upon the adjoining ice; the oars were thrown down; the crew leaped overboard; the bow of the boat was buried in the water; the stern rose perpendicularly, and then majestically disappeared.

The Perils of Whale Fishing.

any hold of it; we therefore set all sail the sca. At length, when fourteen lines, about the ship could safely sustain, and worked 1680 fathoms, were drawn from the fourth fastthrough several narrow and intricate channels boat, a slight entanglement of the line broke it in the ice in the direction I observed the fish at the stern. The fish again made its escape, had retreated. After a little time, it was des- taking along with it a boat and twenty-eight cried by the people in the boats at a consider- lines. able distance to the eastward; a general chase immediately commenced, and within the space of an hour three harpoons were struck.

We now imagined that the fish was secure, but our expectations were premature. The whale resolutely pushed beneath a large floe that had been recently broken to pieces by the swell, and soon drew all the lines out of the second fastboat, the officer of which, not being able to get any assistance, tied the end of his line to a hummock of ice and broke it.

The united length of the lines was 6,720 yards, or upwards of three English miles and threequarters-value, with the boat, above £150 sterling. The obstruction of the sunken boat to the progress of the fish must have been immense, and that of the lines likewise considerable, the weight of the lines alone being thirty-five hundredweight.

So long as the fourth fast-bost, through the medium of its lines, retained its hold of the fish, we searched the adjoining sea with the ship in vain, but in a short time after the line was divided we got sight of the object of pursuit at the distance of near two miles to the eastward of the ice and boats in the open sea. One boat

only with lines, and two empty boats, were reserved by the ship. Having, however, happily fine weather and a breeze of wind, we immediately gave chase under all sails, though it must be confessed, with the insignificant force by us, the distance of the fish, and the rapidity of its flight considered, we had but very small hopes of success. At length, after pursuing it five or six miles, being at least nine miles from the place where it was struck, we came up with it, and it seemed inclined to rest after its extraordinary exertion.

It

JACK AND JOHN:

Their Friends and their Fortunes. BY MRS. EILOART,

"Archie Blake," etc.

CHAPTER XXXIII.-THE BLESSING THAT CAME TO JOHN IN HIS SLEEP.

been furnished with two lines each (a very inadequate supply), they, together with the one in good state of equipment, now made an attack upon the whale. One of the harpooners made a blunder; the fish saw the boat, took the alarm, and again fled. I now supposed it would be seen no more; nevertheless, we chased nearly a mile in the direction I imagined it had taken, and placed the boats to the best of my judgment in the most advantageous situations. In this instance we were extremely successful. The fish rose near one of the boats, and was immediately harpooned. In a few minutes, two more harpoons entered its back, and lances were plied against it with vigour and success. Exhausted by its amazing exertions to escape, it yielded itself at length to its fate, received the piercing wounds of the lances without resistance, and finally died without a struggle.

After all it may seem surprising that it was not a particularly large individual, the largest lamina of whalebone only measuring nine feet six inches, while whales affording twelve feet bone are not uncommon. The quantity of line withdrawn from the different boats engaged in the capture was singularly great. It amounted altogether to 10,440 yards, or nearly six English miles. Of these, thirteen new lines were lost, together with the sunken boat, the harpoon connecting them with the fish having dropped out before the whale was killed. Thus termi

nated with success an attack upon a whale which exhibited the most uncommon determination to escape from its pursuers, seconded by the most amazing strength, of any individual whose capture I ever witnessed.

When engaged in the pursuit of a large whale, it is a necessary precaution for two boats at all times to proceed in company, that the one may be able to assist the other on any emergency. With this principle in view, two boats from the Esk were sent out in chase of some large whales, on the 13th of June, 1814. No ice was

within sight, the boats had proceeded some time together, when they separated in pursuit of two whales, not far distant from each other, when, by a singuar coincidence, the harpooners each struck his fish at the same moment. They were a mile from the ship.

Urgent signals for assistance were immediately displayed by each boat, and in a few minutes one of the harpooners was under the necessity of slipping the end of his line. Happily, the other fish did not descend so deep, and the lines in the boat proved adequate to the occasion.

One of the fish being then supposed to be lost, five of the boats, out of seven, attended on the fish which yet remained entangled, and speedily killed it. A short time afterwards, the other fish supposed to be irrecoverably lost, was descried at a little distance from the place where it was struck; three boats proceeded against it; it was immediately struck, and in twenty minutes also killed.

Thus were successfully captured two whales, both of which had been despaired of. They produced us near forty tons of oil, the value at that time £1,400. The lines attached to the fish last killed were recovered in a remarkable manner. The harpooners were busily engaged in attempting to secure them, when the harpoon, by which alone they were prevented from sinking, slipped out; but as it descended in the water, it luckily hooked the line belonging to another boat, by which both harpoon and lines were preserved.

A remarkable instance of the power which the whale possesses in its tail was exhibited within my observation in the year 1807. On the 29th

overboard. At the next moment, the threatened stroke was impressed on the centre of the boat, which buried it in the water. Happily no one was injured. The harpooner, who leaped overboard, escaped certain death by the act, the tail having struck the very spot on which he stood. The effects of the blow were astonishing. The keel was broken, the gunwales and every plank, excepting two, were cut through, and it was evident the boat would have been completely divided had not the tail struck directly upon a coil of lines. The boat was rendered useless.

In one of my earliest voyages to the whalefishery, I observed a circumstance which excited. my highest astonishment. One of our harpooners had struck a whale; it dived, and all the assisting boats had collected round the fast-boat before the fish rose to the surface. The first boat

which approached it advanced incautiously upon it.

It rose with unexpected violence beneath the boat, and projected it and all its crew to the height of some yards in the air. The boat fell on its side upset, and cast all the men into the water. One man received a severe blow in his fall, and appeared to be dangerously injured; but, soon after his arrival on board of the ship, he recovered from the effects of the accident. The rest of the boat's crew escaped without any hurt.

Captain Lyons, of the Raith, of Leith, while prosecuting the whale-fishery on the Labrador coast, in the season of 1802, discovered a large whale at a short distance from the ship. Four boats were dispatched in pursuit, and two of them succeeding in approaching it so closely together, that two harpoons were struck at the same moment. The fish descended a few fathoms in the direction of another of the boats, which was on the advance, rose accidentally beneath it, struck it with its head, and threw the boat, men and apparatus, about fifteen feet into the air. It was inverted by the stroke, and fell into the water with its keel upwards. All the people were picked up alive by the fourth boat, which was just at hand, excepting one man, who, having got entangled in the boat, fell beneath it and was drowned. The fish was soon afterwards killed.

MUST tell you how those two on when they had left Mr. Marshall. Peter could not speak at first; he was too indignant, and too full, too, of pity for his own misfortunes. At last he burst forth, "To think of it! Did one ever hear the like! The pounds and pounds that child has cost me! Bringing her up to Lunnon trapesin' about there in cabs an' busses and what not, then comin' here an' givin' two pound for a cretur that isn't worth a penny! Two pound flung away in the dirt! I'll never see a penny of it agin! I'd like to scuttle her, I would!"

"You'd say that if you knew the heft. of her as well as I do," answered Dick. "An' what are we goin' to do now?"

I could have

"Get back to Northcombe as fast as we make up by sparin' and pinchin' for the can," said Peter, savagely, "an' try an' money I've spent here. lived for a month like a king on what that cretur's cost me, an' they boys will never let me hear the last on't. Ugh! what were boys made for! As if the world couldn't get on without 'em. Come along. Let's go to Mrs. Smith's and take our traps away, and then step on to Ryde."

"But you'll let me have a mouthful first," said Dick. "I hain't had owt since breakfast, and I'm nigh starvin'."

"You're always thinkin' o' stuffin'," said Peter. "But we'll see if she's a. crust for you."

Mrs. Smith had a crust, and not much more, and that, with a scrap of cheese, formed Dick's meal. Peter sat by, looking as if he grudged him every mouthful,. or at any rate the time consumed in eating it, and, as soon as he had finished, started up with, "Now let's be off. We've no time to lose," and trudged savagely away, with that unfortunate Dick still carrying Blossy.

"Couldn't we leave her behind, as she's worth nowt?" asked Dick.

"An' git into some mess or another if we did," said Peter. "No, we must take the child back, an' if we can't put her off on that fellow agin we must hand her over to the workus. Ah, the workus is a blessed thing at times, and makes one feel as if one lived in a Christian country, specially when one hasn't any rates to pay towards it, nor any chance of goin' there one's self."

"This isn't the way to the railway station, though," said Dick, presently. grunted Peter. "Hain't I spent money enuff, an' more than enuff, without throwin' it away on railways when I'm able to walk?"

"Who said it was?

"You're goin' to walk to Ryde!" cried Dick. "It's eight miles if it's a step, and me with this child to carry. If you'd take her yourself-"

"Not a minnit," said Peter, firmly. "Indeed I don't feel as if I was safe to be trusted with her! The money she's cost me! If I got her in my hands I feel as if I should do her a mischief."

Peter made sure that they should find a steamboat in waiting for them when they reached Ryde, let it be what time it might

and on he went, too sulky to talk, while Dick plodded wearily on with Blossy in his arms. On they went; now they were in the right track, and presently passed the boat shed wherein our three boys were sleeping so soundly. Peter caught sight of them first. "Look at those young villins!" he said, "snorin' away as if they'd nowt on their consciences!

"I wish this chit was snorin' too with them," said Dick.

"Put her there and try," said Peter. Dick laid the little creature down as

gently as he could close to John, and she nestled up to him with a gentle, cooing

voice; when John, without waking, put his arm round her, and drew her up to him; and Blossy, seeming to feel that all her troubles were over, laid down her pretty head, and slept like a tired bird that has come home to its own nest at last.

CHAPTER XXXIV.-DICK'S SLUMBERS ARE AGAIN BROKEN.

I CAN hardly tell you how delighted the boys were when they woke and found Blossy restored to them. She woke almost at the same moment as they did, and crowed and laughed with delight, giving unmistakable signs that she knew her friends, and was glad to be with them again. They kissed her little hands as if she had been a queen-so she was, in a manner, to them, and never had queen more loyal servitors than Blossy found in these her sworn knights. They didn't trouble themselves much about how she came to them, like an angel dropped from the clouds, as Willy, who, as I have said, was now and then slightly poetical, expressed it. There she was, their little darling, their lost treasure, restored to them; and now all they had to do was to take her back to Northcombe, to rejoice the hearts of Enoch and Jenny as she had rejoiced their own.

They had to sleep at Ryde, and so had Peter and Dick, so that the latter did not save anything through not paying his railway fare; but then, as he told Dick when he intimated as much over the very bad supper Peter gave him, if they had not walked they should not have come across "they young villins," and therefore they should still have had the charge of Blossy. Peter did not, therefore, so much regret the night at Ryde, though he punished

Dick and himself with the pforesaid bad supper, and took him to a way indifferent inn to spend the night. They shared the same room for the sake of economy; and in the middle of the night Dick, who had congratulated himself that he should at least have a night's rest in peace, was awoke by the groaning of Peter.

"What's the matter?" he said, sleepily. "Are you taken ill, Peter? One ud think. you were dyin'."

Peter continued to groan.

"If you are ill, you might have kept quiet till the mornin'," said Dick. "The nights an' nights that child's kep' me awake, an' now I'm to have you troublin' more nor ever she did."

"Trouble! What's your trouble to mine?" said Peter. I can't get over it! I never shall get over it!" and he groaned more than ever.

Shall I go for the doctor?" said Dick. "Is it your head, or your stummick, or your chest, or what?""

"It's my money!" shouted Peter. "The pounds an' pounds that brat has cost me, and all for nowt! I'll never see a penny of it agin. I've been reckonin' it up, an' first an' last, with the two pounds I flung away only yesterday afternoon to that girl at the coffee-shop, an' the railway fare to Lunnon, an' the cabs an' the goin' about when we were there, an' the comin' here, an' one thing an' another, it's six pounds seven and threepence !-six pounds seven an' threepence!"

Peter hid his head in his pillow and groaned.

"Well, be thankful you've got plenty left," said Dick. "As to me, every hair on my head feels sore with the pullin' it's had, an' I hain't half the whiskers I had when I started, an' I'd as tidy whiskers as a man need have, before this," said Dick, pathetically.

Then Dick tried to sleep and forget his whiskers, and he thought Peter had gone to sleep also, and was forgetting his money; but just as he was in a blissful dream that he was the master of the Hartle Mill, and the present occupier was in the workhouse, with Nancy and others to keep him company, Peter woke him again.

"Dick! Dick!"

"What's the matter now?" said Dick, sleepily. If he had not been such a hardhearted fellow I really could pity him, for when you think of it, boys, to be kept awake night after night with a baby pulling your hair and clawing your whiskers can't be very pleasant, and Dick really wanted a night's rest now; but Peter seemed determined that he should not have it. "Dick! Dick" he repeated, "a bargain's a bargain, isn't it?"

"Never said it wasn't," said Dick; "I know I always keep to mine. I takes care how I makes 'em, but I keep to 'em."

"An' I made a bargain with you, Dick, about that babby," said Peter, sitting up in bed, perhaps that Dick might hear his words more distinctly. "I said if you'd do the nussin' I'd do the payin'! Well, the nussin's at an end; we've got quit o' the brat, so after to-night you'll pay your own expenses, Dick. There's the gettin' back to the main land-I never reckoned that in the six pound seven an' threepence-an' the gettin' down to Northcombe; an' you'll pay for yourself, Dick, after to-night, for I'm nigh ruined as it is, an' you can't complain, for the nussin's at an end, an' so should the payin' be. A bargain's a bargain, Dick, an' I know who's got the worst o' this one."

"I shan't pay," said Dick. "Not a penny. That was to be your part of the business."

"Then you'll have to stop on this here island by yourself, for I shan't pay for you," said Peter. Then he lay down and went to sleep, feeling a little more at ease now that he had made Dick uncomfortable.

Meanwhile the boys and their baby were located at a tidy little place on the outskirts of the town. The mistress had children of her own, and looked after Blossy, and the next morning the whole party left the island. Peter and Dick did not go by

the same boat, but they stood at a little distance, and when they had seen them off Peter gave a sigh of satisfaction. "They're off now, and we'll be off by the next boat, an' you don't catch me leaving Northcombe again in a hurry. It'll be many a day before I've saved what this bout has cost me."

The boys went up to London and presented themselves to Mrs. Vookes. She was charmed to see them, and insisted on their coming in and staying to dinner. If Peter had only known how his aunt was spending the savings on which he had reckoned so securely as his own, upon those enemies of his! She got them some capital boiled beef from a neighbouring cookshop, and a great piece of rice pudding, and fed Blossy with bread and milk, and sat and watched the boys eat, and pressed them to take more, and laughed till she cried at the thought of Peter paying two pounds for Blossy's recovery. She would have kept the little one with her, but John did not like to part with it, and therefore they all went together to Mrs. Grainger's, wh looked rather surprised when John introduced Blossy to her as the little girl he bad adopted. As they were in London. however, they all agreed it would be a pity to spend the evening in Doughty Street, and they went out to see the shops. Mrs. Grainger volunteered to take charge of Blossy, and as Peter and Dick, though they might have gone to Mrs. Vookes's, would not be likely to come to Mrs. Grainger's, John gave his adopted daughter into her charge for the night, and the next morning they all started by the earliest train for their triumphant return to Northcombe.

(To be continued.)

OUR NOTE BOOK.

The Future of Zululand.

WHILE attention has been of late confined to the terrible results of war in South Africa, it must be remembered that other and higher influences have been at work, and their effects will be seen after the war-storm has passed. There have been not only many Christian converts, but Christian martyrs, among the Zulus. This blood, at least, has not been shed in vain. In a volume recently published, "South Africa and its Mission Fields,"by the Rev. J. E. Carlyle, late of Natal, we read of the martyrdom of one of the native Christians at Ekowe, then a peaceful mission station, since celebrated as "Fort' Ekowe, the scene of Colonel Pearson's perilous beleaguerment. The station belonged to the Norwegian missionaries, whose superintendent, Mr. Oftebrow, with his Christian converts, took refuge in Natal on the outbreak of the war.

"In the month of April, 1877, an old Zulu, at the command of the king, was killed at Ekowe; he was not yet baptized, but was preparing for baptism, and died at the hands of the executioner, praying and confessing the name of Christ. Some of the baptized were also persecuted by the Impis of the king, but escaped. The reason why the anger of the king fell especially on Ekowe was, that Christian principles had latterly got great influence there." Another more detailed statement is found in the Hermannsburg Missionary Journal :-"The superintendent, Oftebrow, had, at the wish of the old Zulu convert,' just the week before, spoken with the king, and, as Oftebrow wrote me, the king had seemed quite friendly. Eight days later he sent an Impi (a native soldier), and without anything further, caused him to be killed. His end was happy. As the soldier came, he asked why he would kill him. The answer was, 'Because you are a learner, and would be baptized.' 'Well,' he says, 'let me first pray.' It was permitted to him. He knelt down and prayed, and then rising up, added, 'I am now ready, shoot me.'" The other murder was perpetrated at Enyezane, a Hermannsburg station, near the Zulu coast.

Mr. Anthony Trollope, in his book on South Africa, refers to these murders, adding that "the converts have, as a rule, been safe, as have the missionaries, not from any love borne to them by Ketchwayo, but because he has thought them to be protected by British influence."

There have been also cruel persecutions in the Transvaal under Sekukuni, chief of the Swazie Kaffirs, whose character is like that of the Zulu king. The truth is, the chiefs feel that with Christianity a new power comes, which interferes with absolute despotism, and with the power of wrongdoing, injustice, and bloodshed.

Half the Zulu nation lives under British protection in Natal, having fled from the tyranny of their own land. The hostility to the English rule is not on the part of the people, but of their rulers. The real hope for the future of Zululand, and of South Africa generally, is in the re-establishment of peaceful Christian missions. The natives know that the missionary is their friend and their advocate for justice; that he is able, by his intelligence, to direct them; that he seeks not theirs, but them ; and thus he has often a deeper hold on the heart of the heathen than their debased, arrogant chief.

Then, again, as regards that dark cloud of superstition which broods over the Kaffir mind, nothing can so dissipate and scatter it as the benign light which Christianity sheds on the character of God as revealed in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Dr. Moffat has described somewhere, with great power, the change in the king Africaner soon after his conversion to Christianity; how he would sit the livelong night beneath the bright starry skies of South Africa, meditating on God and His works, and on the wonders of His providence and grace. It is this thought of Him" who giveth rain from heaven and fruitful seasons" that raises the native Christian above the wretched juggles of the rainmaker. It is

this knowledge of God and the holy agencies which surround Him, which delivers him, too, from the dread of witchcraft and its spells, and from the ghostly terror of the spirits of his ancestry. It is this divine force of Christianity which can alone grapple with the long-contracted habits of debasing vice in which the savage has lived, can break the shackles of his slavery, and restore him to his right mind.

BOYS OF ENGLISH HISTORY.

X.-EDWARD OF LANCASTER, THE BOY WHOSE LIFE A ROBBER SAVED.

TERRIBLE

scene might

have been witnessed near the small town of Hexham, in Northumberland, one May afternoon in

the year 1564. A great battle had just been fought and won. Civil war, with all its hideous accompaniments, had laid desolate those fair fields where once cattle were wont to browse and peasants to follow their peaceful toil. But now all was confusion and tumult. On the ground in heaps lay men and horses, dead and dying-the vanquished were crying for mercy, the victors were shouting for vengeance. The country for miles round was alive with fugitives and their pursuers. Women, children, and old men, as well as soldiers, joined in that panic flight; and shrieks, and shouts, and groans told only too plainly of the slaughter and terror of the pursuit. To slaughter the victors added robbery and outrage. Far and wide they scoured the country in quest of victims and booty; houses were burned, villages were desolated, fields were laid bare, nor till night mercifully fell over the land did that scene

of terror end.

War is indeed a terrible scourge, and civil war the most terrible of all !

But while many of those who pursued did so in a blind thirst after plunder and blood, there were others more determined in their going, whose object was rather to capture than to slay, who passed without heeding the common fugitives, and gave chase only to such parties as seemed to be covering the flight of persons of distinction from the scene of their disaster. Of such parties one was known to contain the King of England, nobles, and officers, whom the victors desired to make captive, and get into their power, while it was also rumoured that the queen herself, with her youthful son, was among the fugitives. The soldiers of the Duke of York would, indeed, have been elated had they succeeded in getting into their power the king and his son, whose throne they had seized for their own leader, and so they followed hard after the flying host in all directions.

That same evening, as the sun was sinking, and the distant sounds of battle were growing faint in the air, a tall, stately woman, leading by the hand a boy of scarcely six years, walked hastily in the direction of a wood which skirted the banks of the River Tyne. It was evident from her dress and the jewels she wore that she was a lady of no ordinary importance, and a certain imperious look in her worn face seemed to suggest that she was one of those more used to ruling than obeying, to receiving honour rather than rendering it. The boy who accompanied her was also richly dressed, and reflected in his handsome face the proud nature of his mother, as this lady seemed to be. Just at present, how ever, his expression was one of terror. He clung eagerly to the hand of his protector, and

once and again cast a frightened look behind, as if expecting to get sight of the pursuers, from whose clutches they were even now seeking shelter.

"Mother," said the lad, as they entered the wood, and for the first time abated somewhat of their hurried progress, "I am weary and hungry. May we not rest here awhile and eat something!"

"My child," said the lady, "there is nought here to eat, and we must go farther ere we are safe from our cruel foes."

So they went on, deep into the gloomy shade of the wood, till they were far beyond the sight of the cuter world, and where the rays of the setting sun scarce gave the feeblest light.

"Mother," said the boy, presently, "this is an awful place; we shall die here."

"Fear not, my child," replied the lady, bravely. Heaven will protect us when none else can."

"But do not robbers abound in these woods? Have I not heard you say so?"

"It is true, but they will not hurt thee or me. Remember whose son thou art."

"Ay, I am the king's son ; but I would fain have a morsel to eat.

Just then there was a crackling among the underwood, and a sound of voices approaching the spot.

The boy clutched his mother's hand and trembled. She stood pale and motionless.

The sound of feet grew nearer, and presently the voices of those who spoke became distinguishable.

"Some will be sure to find their way to this wood," said one.

"I hope such as do may have full purses," said another. "I have taken nothing these three days."

Aye, truly, and these wars have made folk so poor, they are not worth robbing when we do find them."

"Soft! methought I heard a voice!" suddenly said one of the speakers.

The band halted and listened, and then, hearing nothing, pushed on.

"It's as likely as not we might fall in with royalty itself this night, for I hear the king's rout has been complete at Hexham."

"And more than that, he has fled from the field in one direction, while his queen and son have sought another!"

"Hist!" again cried he who had spoke before. "I certainly heard a voice. This way, my men, follow me."

And advancing at as rapid a pace as the wooded ground allowed of, he conducted them in the direction of the voices. Suddenly they emerged into a clearing, where confronted them the lady and her boy.

Loud laughed these greedy robbers, for they spied the jewels on the lady's person and the rich robes on her and her son.

Like cowardly ruffians, as they were, they rushed forward, heedless of the sex or age of their victims, and threatening to slay them should they resist, tore away jewels and gold and silk

all that was of value, roughly handling the two in so doing, and meeting every attempt to speak or resist with the menace of a drawn sword.

It was a rich plunder, for the lady's jewels were large and precious, and besides, she bore about her no small quantity of gold and other treasure. When they had taken ali they could lay their wicked hands on, the men fell to dividing among themselves their ill-gotten booty, glorying as they did so in their crime, and laughing brutally at the expense of their two defenceless victims.

As might be supposed, the task of dividing the spoil was one not quietly accomplished. The robbers began to argue as to the division, and from arguing they went on to disputing, and from disputing they came to fighting, in the midst of which the lady and her boy took an opportunity to escape unobserved into the thicket, and hasten as best they might from the reach of their plunderers.

Thus they fled, robbed and penniless, exposed to the cold evening air, famishing for