"But-but-" Frank hesitated. "Immodest, you think it is. I don't know, sir-I don't know. There isn't a better girl than my girl in all London, and I defy you to find one. No, I had a great exercise of my conscience before I let her go-only her gifts were too strong. It was a-flying in the face of Providence not to let her take a way which was opened, so to speak, unto her. I laid the matter before my friend, Mr. Eddrup-"

"Eddrup! He that lives at Mrs. Skimp's, in Granville-square?"

"There is only one Mr. Eddrup, young man. The Lord can't spare more than one at a time like him. Do you know him?" "I live in the same house. Tell me about him."

"Ah, I think you had better find out about him. Well, I laid the matter before him, and he decided that if the girl liked, and I was always there to look after her, there would be no harm done. If you live in the same house as Mr. Eddrup, young gentleman, you try to talk to him. It was he that showed me the Light."

Frank stared.

"Before I knew Mr. Eddrup, I was clean gone astray, and out of the way altogether. Now, I'm a different man. So is Patty. Do you mean that Mr. Eddrup has never said a word in season to you?"

"Not yet. I've only been in the house two days."

"Then wait; or-if you are not one of those who go about scoffing and sneering at good men-come with me on Sunday evening. But you're a gentleman, Mr. Melliship. You go to the Establishment, I suppose." Frank was too much astonished to find religion in an acrobat to answer.

"There is spiritual food of different kinds," Mr. Silver went on. "I can't get my nourishment in the Church of England. Mind you, I'm not saying a word against it. But I like freedom. I like to have my say if I've got anything to say, and when my heart is full."

"What denomination do you belong to?" asked Frank.

nection, and the Independents, and the Wesleyans; but I don't like them. I don't like any of them. So I stay at home, and read the Book; or else I go and hear Mr. Eddrup on Sunday nights."

"Let me come and talk to you," said Frank. "You shall tell me more about yourself, if you will. I promise, at least, not to scoff and sneer at good things."

"I'm an illiterate man, sir, and you are a gentleman, with education and all that, I dare say. But come when you like."

"Let me come next Sunday evening. You shall give me some tea," said Frank, in his lordly way, as if he were inviting himself to a man's rooms at college.

Mr. Silver looked after him with a puzzled expression, and went up the steps to dinner. 'A gentleman," he said to Patty, "who doesn't swear and use bad language; who doesn't look as if he got drunk; who doesn't go about with a big pipe in his mouth; who doesn't seem to mind talking about religious things. We don't get many such gentlemen at the Palace of Amusement, do us?"

"But, father," said Patty, laying the things. out for dinner, "how does a gentleman come to be singing at the Palace? Gentlemen don't sing, do they, in public places for money?"

"I never heard of it. Eddrup. Here's dinner.

I will ask Mr. Joey, say grace."

In these early days, Frank thought it best to go every morning to the Palace. This pleased Mr. Leweson, who had conceived an immense admiration for his new tenor. He showed this by solemnly presenting him with a tenor song of his own composing, which Frank sung, after the fourth night, in place of that song of the domestic affections already quoted. It was not so popular; but that, as Mr. Leweson remarked, was clear proof of its real worth. Had the loonatics applauded, he said he should have felt it his duty, as a musician, to put the song in the fire.

Sunday came, and Frank bethought him of his invitation to take tea with his new friends. Skimp's dined at four o'clock on Sundays. After dinner, Mrs. Skimp went to church, and her boarders chiefly amused themselves by playing billiards. To the younger portion, the students, there was something particularly attractive in playing a forbidden game on Sunday; to the older

ones, the chance of picking up a few stray sixpences at pool was quite enough of itself to make them prefer knocking the balls about to smoking pipes all the evening. Besides, they could unite the two amusements. Captain Bowker went to church, to smoothe out his ideas, he said though no one understood in the least what he meant. I think he liked the quiet of church, where he could abstract his mind from all affairs-spiritual as well as worldly-and compose his verses. Mr. Eddrup, as usual, appeared at dinner, ate in silence what was set before him, and disappeared noiselessly. Frank found his friends waiting for himPatty with an extra ribbon. Her father was sitting with a Bible before him—his one book, which he read at all times. On Sundays, when he had a clear day before him, he used to read the Prophecies, applying them to modern times, and working out all problems of the present by their light. He had no books to help him, unless Swedenborg's "Heaven and Hell" be considered a help. Reading day after day, as he did, the words had come to have to him, as they have done to some theologians, a sort of threefold sense-the historic, the prophetic, and the hidden or inner sense. The pursuit of the last occupied all his thoughts.

The room was poorly furnished, for the family income was but small. Three or four chairs, a table, and a sideboard constituted the whole of it. No servant was apparent, and Patty and Joe were up and down the stairs, bringing up the tea things, laughing and chattering.

"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Melliship," said his host. "Now, I call this friendly. Patty, my dear, make haste up with the tea, because it's getting late."

"It's quite ready, father. We were only waiting for Mr. Melliship."

Watercresses, and bread and butter. Patty pouring out the tea. Her father, with his finger on the Bible, enunciating things prophetic.

"I was reading what Ezekiel says about the world in our time, Mr. Melliship."

"Did Ezekiel write about our time?" asked Frank, thinking what a pity Patty's hands should be so spoiled by her acrobatic work.

"All time every time. I can read, sir, the events of to-day and to-morrow in his pages, as plain as I can in a newspaper. I can tell you, if you like to listen, what is

going to happen in the world before you die.'

"Tell me," said Frank.

Mr. Silver held up his finger, and began. As he went on, in short, jerky sentences, his eyes wandered from Frank's, and fixed themselves in space-the gaze becoming deeper, and the expression as of one who reads things far off.

"A day of judgment and lamentation, when even the righteous shall be sifted. Afterwards the good time. A day of gathering of the nations upon the earth. The Great Battle-the Final Battle-shall be fought, after which there shall be no more wars. The Lord's battle will be fought on the Lord's battle-field, the Plain of Esdraelon: the battle of the people against the priests, and all their power. After it, the priests shall clothe themselves with trembling, as with a garment. Know," he continued after a pause, stretching his hand across the table, and still with his eyes fixed in vacancy— "know that, from time long gone by, even from the days of the Chaldæan who first invented the accursed thing, the arm of the Lord has been against the priesthood. There is one nation the enemy of the human race— the nation of the priests. Whether they call themselves Catholic, or Anglican, or Dissenting, or Heathen, the spirit is alike. It is the spirit of darkness and tyranny."

"Mr. Melliship, is your tea to your liking?" whispered Patty.

"It is the spirit of pride and falsehood. Every dogma that blindfolds men's eyes is the invention of a priest; every accursed form of domination is the invention of the priests; every evil government has been maintained by the priests. They have made the world what it is; they have substituted fear for love; they keep the people ignorant; they darken counsel, and shut out light."

"Joey, run up, and fetch my bonnet," said Patty.

"Then you want to abolish all priests?" said Frank, looking with wonder at the religious enthusiast.

"I am on the Lord's side," he replied, simply. "I would that I might live to fight in the Great Battle when it comes, and to fight against the priests. Priests! I am a priest. We are all priests;-every man in his own house, as the Patriarchs were before us. Remember, young man, that this is no light matter. It will be your place to take a side-and that before long. Russia is ad

vancing south, as Ezekiel prophesied. Turkey is falling to pieces, and will soon be even as she who was once decked with ornaments

with bracelets on her hands and a chain upon her neck-who went astray and was confounded, as Ezekiel prophesied. All things came from Palestine: all things go back to Palestine. They are going to make' a railway down the valley of the Euphrates: then they will rebuild the city of Babylon. In the time to come, that shall be the city of wealth and trade-when London will be deserted. The city of the Lord shall then be rebuilt, too: even the city of David, with a Temple which shall have no priests. It shall be the reign of peace. All nations shall come into the Church, and the millennium shall be begun. Even so, O Lord: Thy will be done!"

He folded his hands, as he concluded his speech, in a silent prayer.

"Drink your tea, father," said Patty. "It's getting cold-and it's late, besides."

"

"Where are we going, Miss Silver ?" asked Frank.

"Miss Silver!" Patty laughed merrily. "I never was called Miss Silver in my life before. Call me Patty, Mr. Melliship."

I will, if you will call me Frank."

Indeed, I shall do nothing of the kind. You are a gentleman, and don't belong to our rank of life. Hush! - don't move. Don't disturb father. He's often so, after talking about the Bible."

The enthusiast was bent forward, with his eyes fixed, gazing out of the window. He neither heard nor saw-he was in a trance. Frank looked at him anxiously. Then, moved by the impulse of his artistic nature, he took a book from the table-it was Patty's Bible and on the fly-leaf began to sketch her father with his pencil. Patty looked over his shoulder in speechless admiration. In three minutes it was done-a rude, rough sketch, slightly idealized, so as to bring out the noble ruggedness of the man's brow, the wild depth of his eyes, the setting of his lips. "Oh! it's wonderful," Patty whispered. "Shall I draw you?" asked Frank, in a whisper. "Sit down, and I will try."

She sat down, blushing; but the next minute sprang up again, whispering"Not to-day-not while father is like that. Don't speak."

She took the Bible from him, and looked at the portrait with devouring eyes. Some subtle beauty the artist had put into the

lines which she had never noticed before in her father's face, and saw it now for the first time.

They sat for two or three minutes more in silence, and then Mr. Silver threw his head back with a sigh, and looked round the room.

"It is late," he said. "Let us go."

"But where are we going?" asked Frank again.

"Why, to Mr. Eddrup's church, of course." He followed in astonishment. Who and what was this Mr. Eddrup, that these people should so look up to him?

Patty and he walked together.

"I shall show the picture to father," she said "but not to-night: not till the fit is off him. I suppose you were surprised to find us in such a nice house? We couldn't afford to rent it, you know; but it's Mr. Leweson's, and he gives it to us for nothing. He wants us to let lodgings, only I don't know-it would be such a trouble."

"You had better," said Frank. "I will be your lodger."

"Ah! I don't know. I should like it, you know," she replied, simply; "but father's particular. You might turn out bad, after all. And then see where we should be!"

"Well I haven't turned out very good, so far," said Frank, with a sigh

"Here we are at the church," said Patty, stopping at a door.

MR.

MR. LIONEL BROUGH.

R. LIONEL BROUGH, the popular low comedian-the subject of our cartoon this week-is the son of the late Mr. Barnabas Brough, once well known as a dramatic author, writing under the nom de plume of " Barnard de Burgh."

Mr. Lionel Brough is a native of the Principality, having been born at Pontypool, in Monmouthshire, on March 10th, 1836. He is the brother of the late Robert and William Brough, known to all playgoers as the 66 Brothers Brough, and also of Mr. John C. Brough, author of works on scientific subjects, and the librarian to the London Institution.

Mr. Lionel Brough has taken to the stage; for, like many leading actors, he was not bred to the profession, but began life as clerk to Mr. John Timbs, editor of the Illustrated London News, in the time when Douglas Jerrold, Albert Smith, John Leech,