heavens, and showing by the rays of | bodies in healing waves of light, filling our golden splendour that lit up its topmost eyes with the loveliness of the colour of snows that it could see the sun, whose life and our ears with the subtle melodies magical fingers, working unseen of us, had of dumb things that grow and ripen in thy woven for the world this tissue of varie- sight, how little men consider the greatgated beauty. When I remember the Lo-ness of thy work for us, and what a beaufodens, I recall this moment, and think, O tiful and mystical creation thou art thywonderful white sun, who dost bathe our self! THE proposal to connect the Caspian Sea with the Sea of Azoff by means of a canal was discussed at a recent sitting of the Russian Geographical Society. A plan of the canal, according to which it is to pass between the Kuma and the Manytch, was laid before the society by the Grand Duke Constantine, and Prince Krapotkin read a report on the subject. The first accurate survey of the country, he said, was made by Von Baer, who visited the Manytch valley in 1855; and in the spring of 1858 Herr Bergsträsser endeavoured, when the water was high, to pass from the Caspian to the Sea of Azoff in a boat. In 1860 the expedition of Colonel Kostenkoff, who was accompanied by MM. de Marny and Kryshin, surveyed the valley of the Manytch from the great ManytchLiman to the mouth of the river Chulebe. Finally, in the years 1863 and 1864, Captain E. Blum, of the military topographic corps, made a trigonometrical survey of the whole of the eastern valley of the Manytch to the Caspian, and bored through the earth to the depth of four fathoms at six different places to the east of the mouth of the Kalan. The result of these investigations was the project of a canal, though the data are still very incomplete, as the western Manytch has not yet been explored for a distance of 350 versts. Three different modifications of the plan give the quantity of earth to be excavated as 65, 131, and 78 millions of cubic fathoms respectively. In estimating the cost of the excavations Herr Blum takes as his standard the expense of the works on the Suez Canal, where the quantity of earth excavated was 28,000,000 cubic metres. On this basis the cost of the first of the above projects would be 422,000,000 roubles (£53,000,000), of the second 841,000,000 (£106,000,000), and of the third 507,000,000 (£64,000,000). These figures, thought the Prince Krapotkin, render it impossible for the Geographical Society to entertain the project. After a long debate, in which M. Romanoffsky endeavoured to prove that the cost of such excavations has now become much less than formerly, and will continue to diminish, the society passed to the order of the day, on the ground that Captain Blum's project does not furnish any positive data for a thorough consideration of the subject. Pall MallBudget. A CONSCIENTIOUS QUAKER. In the Beerenstraat (Bear Street), at Amsterdam, is a very neat building, occupied as an infant school. The premises comprise several school-rooms, an open play-yard, a covered play-room for wet weather, and a residence for the superintendent. One hundred and twenty little boys and girls are here carefully educated at an almost nominal charge. The history of this school possesses a special interest for Englishmen. During one of the wars of the last century, when Holland was allied with the enemies of Great Britain, an English privateer captured a Dutch merchant vessel and cargo of considerable value. Amongst the owners of the privateer was a Quaker, named John Warder, who objected to the use of the ship for privateering purposes, but whose objections were overruled by the other partners, who did not share in his scruples against war. When the spoils were divided, Mr. Warder duly received his share; but feeling conscientiously precluded from appropriating it to his own profit, he retained the money till the end of the war, when he caused different inquiries to be made in Holland for the owners, or the surviving representatives, of the captured vessel and cargo. So far as the inquiry was successful the losses were paid. But there still remained a considerable sum of money in hand, which was allowed to accumulate, at interest, with the intention of its being appropriated in some manner to the welfare of the Dutch people. At length, a merchant of Amsterdam, the late Mr. John S. Mollett, the last survivor of the Society of Friends in Holland, undertook to superintend its expenditure for the purposes of an infant school for the poor of that city, which was commenced in 1830. After an interval of about thirty years, it was considered desirable to extend the school and erect better premises Accordingly, some friends in England, at the invitation of the late Peter Bedford, "the Spitalfields Philanthropist," raised a further sum of money, and sent out an English architect, under whose direction the present neat and convenient building was erected in 1864. This effort was the closing exertion of Mr. Bedford's life, and his portrait, together with those of Mr. Fry, Mr. Gurney, and other worthies, now hangs upon the school walls. Leisure Hours. From Blackwood's Magazine. CHAPTER XXIII. INTO GOOD SOCIETY. any poor houses, as well as to happen to be swinging an empty basket conspicuously. It was a provident thought of mine, and turned out as well as its foresight deserved. In spite of all that poor landsmen say They passed a very pleasant day at about equinoctial gales and so on, we Sker (as I was told that evening), pushing often have the loveliest weather of all the about among rocks and stones, and routyear in September. If this sets in, it lasts ing out this, that, and the other, of shells sometimes for three weeks or a month to- and sea-weed and star-fish, and all the gether. Then the sky is bright and fair, rest of the rubbish, such as amuses great with a firm and tranquil blue, not so deep gentry, because they have nothing to do of tint or gentle as the blue of springtide, for their living. And though money is but more truly staid and placid, and far nothing to them, they always seem to more trustworthy. The sun, both when reckon what they find by money-value. be rises over the rounded hills behind the Not Colonel Lougher, of course, I mean, cliffs, and when he sinks into the level of and even less Lady Bluett. I only speak the width of waters, shines with ripe and of some grand people who come raking quiet lustre, to complete a year of labour. along our beach. And of all of these there As the eastern in the morning, so at sun- was nobody with the greediness Anthony set the western heaven glows with an Stew had. A crab that had died in changeven flush of light through the entire ing his shell would hardly come amiss to depth pervading, and unbroken by any him. Let that pass-who cares about cloud. Then at dusk the dew fog wavers him? I wish to speak of better people. in white stripes over the meadow-land, or The Colonel, though he could not keep in winding combes benighted pillows ill-will against any one on earth, did not down, and leaves its impress a sparkling choose to be indebted to Sker-grange for path for the sun's return. To my mind no other part of the year is pleasanter than this end of harvest, with golden stubble, and orchards gleaming, and the hedgerows turning red. Then fish are in season, and fruit is wholesome, and the smell of sweet brewing is rich on the air. even so much as a bite of hay for his pony. Partly, perhaps, that he might not appear to play false to his own tenantry; for the Nottage farmers, who held of the Colonel, were always at feud with Evan Thomas. Therefore he baited the pony himself, after easing off some of the tackle, and moored him to an ancient post in a little sheltered hollow. Their rations also he left in the car, for even if any one did come by, none would ever think of touching this good magistrate's property. The This beautiful weather it was that tempted Colonel Lougher and Lady Bluett to take a trip for the day to Sker. The distance from Candleston Court must be at least two good leagues of sandy road, Quite early in the afternoon, their apor rather of sand without any road, for a petites grew very brisk by reason of the great part of the journey. Therefore, in- crisp sea-breeze and sparkling freshness stead of their heavy coach, they took a of the waves. Accordingly, after consullight two-wheeled car, and a steady-going | tation, they agreed that the time was pony which was very much wiser of them. come to see what Crumpy, their honest Also, which was wiser still, they had a good old butler, had put into the basket. basket of provisions, intending to make a Colonel held his sister's hand to help her long sea-side day, and expecting a lively up rough places, and breasting a little appetite. I saw them pass through New- crest of rushes, they broke upon a pretty ton, as I chanced to be mending my nets sight, which made them both say "hush," by the well; and I touched my hat to the and wonder. Colonel of course, and took it off to the lady. The Colonel was driving himself, so as not to be cumbered with any servant; and happening to see such a basket of food, I felt pretty sure there would be some over, for the quality never eat like us. Then it came into my memory that they could not bear Evan Thomas, and it struck me all of a sudden that it might be well worth my while to happen to meet them upon their return, before they passed In a hollow place of sand, spread with dry white bones, skates' pouches, blades of cuttle-fish, sea-snail shells, and all the other things that storm and sea drive into and out of the sands, a very tiny maid was sitting, holding audience all alone. She seemed to have no sense at all of loneliness or of earthly trouble in the importance of the moment and the gravity of play. Before her sat three little dolls, arranged according to their rank, cleverly Eleanor, can you not see that the child does not wish for your interference? Her brothers and sisters are sure to be here from Kenfig most likely, or at any rate some of her relations, and busy perhaps with our basket." posted in chairs of sand. The one in the | been compelled to ende: vour to put a stop middle was "Patty Green," the other two to it. Therefore (as the best man in the strange imitations fashioned by young world cannot in reason be expected to be Watkin's knife. Each was urging her in a moment abreast with the sallies of claim to shells, which the mistress was even the best womankind, but likes to see dispensing fairly, and with good ad- to the bottom of it) the Colonel came up vice to each, then laughing at herself and crustily. them, and trying to teach them a nurserysong, which broke down from forgetfulness. And all the while her quick bright face, and the crisp grain of her attitudes, and the jerk of her thick short curls, were enough to make any one say, "What a queer little soul!" Therefore it is not to be surprised at that Colonel Lougher could not make her out, or that while he was feeling about for his eyeglass of best crystal, his sister was (as behoves a female) rasher to express opinion. For she had lost a little girl, and sometimes grieved about it still. "What a queer little, dear little thing, Henry! I never saw such a child. Where can she have dropped from? Did you see any carriage come after us? It is useless to tell me that she can belong to any of the people about here. Look at her forehead, and look at her manners, and how she touches everything! Now did you see that? What a wonderful child! Every movement is grace and delicacy. Oh, you pretty darling! Her ladyship could wait no longer for the Colonel's opinion (which he was inclined to think of ere he should come out with it), and she ran down the sand-hill almost faster than became her dignity. But if she had been surprised before, how was she astonished now at Bardie's reception of her? "Don'e tush. Knee tushy paw, see voo pay. All 'e dollies is yae good; just going to dinny, and 'e mustn't 'poil their appetites." And the little atom arose and moved Lady Bluett's skirt out of her magic circle. | And then, having saved her children, she stood scarcely up to the lady's knee, and looked at her as much as to ask, "Are you of the quality?" And being well satisfied on that point, she made what the lady declared to be the most elegant curtsy she ever had seen. Meanwhile the Colonel was coming up, in a dignified manner, and leisurely, perceiving no cause to rush through rushes, and knowing that his sister was often too quick. This had happened several times in the matter of beggars and people on crutches, and skin-collectors, and suchlike. who cannot always be kept out of the way of ladies; and his worship the Colonel had 66 'No," said the child, looking up at him, "I'se got no 'lations now; all gone ayae; but all come back de-morrow day." "Why, Henry, what are you thinking of? This must be the poor little girl that was wrecked. And I wanted you so to come down and see her; but you refused on account of her being under the care of Farmer Thomas." "No, my dear, not exactly that, but on account of the trouble in the house I did not like to appear to meddle." "Whatever your reason was," answered the lady, no doubt you were quite right; but now I must know more of this poor little thing. Come and have some dinner with us, my darling; I am sure you must be hungry. Don't be afraid of the Colonel. He loves little children when they are good." But poor Bardie hung down her head and was shy, which never happened to her with me or any of the common people; she seemed to know, as if by instinct, that she was now in the company of her equals. Lady Bluett, however, was used to children, and very soon set her quite at ease by inviting her dolls, and coaxing them, and listening to their histories, and all the other little turns that unlock the hearts of innocence. So it came to pass that the castaway dined in good society for the first time since her great misfortune. Here she behaved so prettily, and I might say elegantly, that Colonel Lougher (who was of all men the most thoroughly just and upright) felt himself bound to confess his error in taking her for a Kenfig nobody. Now, as it happened to be his birthday, the lady had ordered Mr. Crumpy, the butler, to get a bottle of the choicest wine, and put it into the hamper without saying anything to the Colonel, so that she might drink his health, and persuade him to do himself the like good turn. Having done this, she gave the child a drop in the bottom of her own wine-glass, which the little one tossed off most fluently, and with a sigh of contentment said "I'se not had a drop of that yineypiney ever since sompfin." Why, what wine do you call it, my little dear?" the Colonel asked, being much amused with her air of understanding it. Doesn't a know?" she replied, with some pity: "nat's hot I calls a dop of good Sam Paine." "Give her some more," said the Colonel; "upon my word she deserves it. Eleanor, you were right about her; she is a wonderful little thing." All the afternoon they kept her with them, being more and more delighted with her, as she began to explain her opinions; and Watty, who came to look after her, was sent home with a shilling in his pocket. And some of the above I learned from him, and some from Mr. Crumpy (who was a very great friend of mine), and a part from little Bardie, and the rest even from her good ladyship, except what trifles I add myself, being gifted with power of seeing things that happen in my ab sence. This power has been in my family for upwards of a thousand years, coming out and forming great bards sometimes, and at other times great story-tellers. Therefore let no one find any fault or doubt any single thing I tell them concerning some people who happen just now to be five or six shelves in the world above me, for I have seen a great deal of the very highest society when I cleaned my Earl's pumps and epaulettes, and waited upon him at breakfast; and I know well how those great people talk, not from observation only, but by aid of my own fellow-feeling for them, which, perhaps, owes its power of insight not to my own sagacity only, but to my ancestors' lofty positions, as poets to royal families. Now although I may have mentioned this to the man of the Press — whose hat appeared to have undergone Press experience I have otherwise kept it quite out of sight, because every writer should hold himself entirely round the corner, and discover his hand, but not his face, to as many as kindly encourage him. Of late, however, it has been said not by people of our own parish, who have seen and heard me at the well and elsewhere, but by persons with no more right than power to form opinions - that I cannot fail of breaking down when I come to describe great people. To these my answer is quite conclusive. From my long connection with royalty, lasting over a thousand years, I need not hesitate to describe the Prince of Wales himself; and inasmuch as His Royal Highness is not of pure ancient British descent, I verily doubt whether he could manage to better my humble style to my liking. Enough of that. I felt doubts at beginning, but I find myself stronger as I get on. You may rely upon me now to leave the question to your own intelligence. The proof of the pudding is in the eating; and if any one fears that I cannot cook it, I only beg him to wait and see. Lady Bluett was taken so much with my Bardie, and the Colonel the same though he tried at first to keep it underthat nothing except their own warm kindness stopped them from making off with her. The lady had vowed that she would do so, for it would be so much for the little soul's good; and of course, so far as legality went, the Chief-Justice of the neighbourhood had more right to her than a common rough farmer. But Watty came down, being sent by Moxy, after he went home with that shilling, and must needs make show of it. He came down shyly, from habit of nature, to the black eyebrows of the tide, where the Colonel and Bardie were holding grand play, with the top of the spring running up to them. She was flying at the wink of every wave, and trying to push him back into it; and he was laughing with all his heart at her spry ways and audacity, and the quickness of her smiles and frowns, and the whole of her nature one whirl of play, till he thought nothing more of his coattails. What do you want here, boy?" the Colonel asked, being not best pleased that a man of his standing should be caught in the middle of such antics. Watkin opened his great blue eyes, and opened his mouth as well but could not get steerage-way on his tongue, being a boy of great reverence. "Little fellow, what are you come for?" with these words he smiled on the boy, and was vexed with himself for frightening him. "Oh sir, oh sir, if you please sir, mother says as Miss Delushy must come home to bed, sir." "E go ayay now, 'e bad Yatkin ! I 'ants more pay with my dear Colonel Yucca.” "I am not at all sure," said the Col onel, laughing, "that I shall not put her into my car, and drive away with her, Watkin." 66 You may go home, my good boy, and tell your mother that we have taken this poor little dear to Candleston." This, of course was Lady Bluett. You should have seen Watkin's face, they told me, when I came to hear of it. Betwixt his terror of giving offence, and his ignorance how to express his meaning, and the sorrow he felt on his mother's account, and perhaps his own pain also, not a word had he to say, but made a grope after the baby's hands. Then the little child ran up to him, and flung both arms around his leg, and showed the stanchness of her breed. Could any one, even of six years old, better enter into it? "Iyoves Yatkin. Yatkin is aye good and kind. And I yoves poor Moky. I'ont go ayay till my dear papa and my dear mamma comes for me." Lady Bluett, being quick and soft, could not keep her tears from starting; and the Colonel said, "It must be so. We might have done a great wrong, my dear. Consider all" and here he whispered out of Watkin's hearing, and the lady nodded sadly, having known what trouble is. But the last words he spoke bravely, "God has sent her for a comfort where He saw that it was needed. We must not give way to a passing fancy against a deep affliction; only we will keep our eyes upon this little orphan darling." CHAPTER XXIV. SOUND INVESTMENTS. THE spring-tides led me to Sker the next day, and being full early for the ebb, I went in to see what the Colonel had done. For if he should happen to take up the child, she would pass out of my hands altogether, which might of course be a serious injury, as well as a very great hardship. For of Moxy's claim I had little fear, if it came to a question of title inasmuch as I had made her sign a document prepared and copied by myself, clearly declaring my prior right in virtue of rescue and providential ordinance. But as against Colonel Lougher I durst not think of asserting my claims, even if the law were with me; and not only so; but I felt all along that the matter was not one for money to heal, but a question of the deepest feelings. And now the way in which Moxy came out, while Bardie was making much of me (who always saw everything first, of course), and the style of her meddling in between us, led me to know that a man has no chance to be up to the tricks of a female. For the dialogue going on 66 Because, my pretty dear, I have been forced to work, all day long almost." "Hasn't 'a had no time to pay?" "No, my dear, not a moment to play. Work, work, work! Money, money, money! Till old Davy is quite worn out." I may have put horns to the truth in this. But at any rate not very long ones. And the child began to ponder it. "I tell 'a, old Davy, 'hot to do. Susan say to me one day, kite yell, I amember, ickle Bardie made of money! Does 'a sink so?" "I think you are made of gold, you beauty; and of diamonds, and the Revelations." 66 Aye yell! Then I tell 'a 'hot to do. Take poor Bardie to markiss, old Davy; and e' get a great big money for her." She must have seen some famous market; for acting everything as she did (by means of working face, arms, and legs), she put herself up like a fowl in a basket, and spread herself, making the most of her breast, and limping her neck, as the dead chickens do. Before I could begin to laugh, Moxy was upon us. Put Dyo! Why for you come again? Never you used to come like this. down Delushy, directly moment. No fish she is for you to catch. When you might have had her, here you left her through the face of everything. And now, because great Evan's staff is cloven, by the will of God, who takes not advantage of him? I thought you would have known better, Dyo. And this little one, that he dotes upon "It is enough," I answered, with a dignity which is natural to me, when females wound my feelings; "Madame Thomas, it is enough. I will quit your premises." With these words, I turned away, and never looked over my shoulder even, though the little one screamed after me; until I felt Watty hard under my stern, and like a kedge-anchor dragging. There fore, I let them apologize; till my desire was to forgive them. And after they brought forth proper things, I denied all evil will. and did my best to accomplish it. Mrs. Thomas returning slowly to her ancient style with me, as I relaxed my dignity, said that now the little maid was getting more at home with them. Mr. Thomas, after what had happened in the neighbourhoo1- this was the death of |