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CONTENTS OF VOL. CCLIV.

Addresses, Rejected. By ALEX. C. EWALD, F.S.A.

Arab and Sepoy. By F. BoYLE

Californian Alps, May Day in the. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING.

Carlyle and his Wife. By H. R. Fox BOURNE

Carlyle-Emerson Correspondence, The. By R. H. SHEPHERD

Conservative Party, The Prospects of the.

MACCOLL, M.A.

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415

By REV. MALCOLM

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Cry, A, for Help. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING

Cuckoo-pint. By GRANT ALLEN

Dust a Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE:
Chaps. XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII..

XXXIV., XXXV.

XXXVI., XXXVII.

East End Chapter, An. By WALTER BESANT, M.A.
Fashionable English. By Dudley ErringTON

“From Murder and Sudden Death." By HENRY BROWN
Garden, My Suburban. By H. F. LESTER

Great Sun-spot, A. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR

Haven, The Tramp's. By F. G. WALLACE-Goodbody

Help, A Cry for. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING

Herbert Spencer's Philosophy. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR

273

73

"Holy Grail," The, a Coral Stone. By KARL BLIND

606

"Jocoseria." By RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD

624

Jonas Hanway, the Philanthropist. By EDWARD WALFORD, M.A. 296

Joseph and Zuleykha. By STANLEY LANE-POOLE

166

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Lord Lawrence. By EDWARD B. EASTWICK, C.B.

May Day in the Californian Alps. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING.

Modelling and Sculpture. By PERCY FITZGERALD

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Part I.

Part II.

My Musical Life.-I. By REV. H. R. HAWEIS, M.A.

My Suburban Garden. By H. F. LESTER

Names, Surnames, and Nicknames. By HENRY BRADLEY
Nell Gwynn. By DUTTON COOK

New Abelard, The: a Romance. By ROBERT BUCHANAN:

Proem

Chap. I. The Two

II. Old Letters

III. The Bishop

IV. Worldly Counsel

V. "Mrs. Montmorency

VI. Alma

VII. A Side Current
VIII. Mystifications

IX. Farewell to Fensea

X. From the Post-bag
XI. An Actress at Home
XII. In a Sick Room
XIII. A Runaway Couple
XIV. A Mystery

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New Abelard, The-continued.

XV. The Cousins

XVI. In the Vestry.

XVII. Counterplot

Personal Nicknames. By W. H. OLDING, LL.B.

Prospects, The, of the Conservative Party. By REV. MALCOLM

MACCOLL, M.A.

Rejected Addresses. By ALEX. C. EWALD, F.S.A.*
Science Notes. By W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS, F.R.A.S.:
Atmosphere versus Ether-A Neglected Disinfectant-Another
Disinfectant-Ensilage-The Fracture of Comets-The Origin

of Comets.

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Saving the Eyes-Transfusion by Pressure-The Physiology of

Haunted Chambers-A Plea for Sour Grapes-The Nutriment

in Wine-Aeronautical Exploration-The Blood of Moun-

taineers

The New Foot-warmers-Nutritive Value of Skim-milk-Perver-

sion of Herbivora-Electric Light and Vegetation-A Drawing-

room Optical Illusion-Iron in the Tea-plant-"The Force of

Habit "in Plants

Is the Sun Blue? The Travelling of the "Fixed" Stars-Water

?—The

Gas to the Rescue-Skin Vision-Transmission of Force
A Scientific Veteran-Electric Fishing-Fireproof Upholstery-
Electricity as a Source of Power-Nordenskjöld's New Ex-
pedition-What Nordenskjöld may Find-The Distribution of
Meteoric Iron-A Scientific Swindle
The Evolution of Silkworms-The "Fume" of the Blast Furnace
-"Vivisection"-The Future of the Black Country-Iron Salt
as a Manure-Mushroom Poison-Nordenskjöld's New Arctic
Expedition-Nordenskjöld's Route-The Lost Greenland Colony
Sculpture and Modelling. By PERCY FITZGERALD
Sepoy and Arab. By F. BoYLE

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The P.-R. B.-National Biography-Spoliation of the Foreigner
-The Toll of Fire
Cruel Sports-Slavery and the Straits Settlements-Elementary
Education in Saving Life-Storage of Petroleum-Burial Alive
-East End Poverty-What is the Future of our Race? .
Religious Mania-Hospital Wards for Paying Patients-Risks of
Ocean Travelling-Prevention of Disaster at Sea-Capital
Punishment-Are we Sycophants?

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Tramp's Haven, The. By F. G. WALLACE-GOODBODY
Village Miners. By RICHARD JEFFERIES
Wagner's "Siegfried" and the City of the Nibelungs. By KARL

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Whistling. By REV. T. F. THISELTON DYER, M.A.

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THE

GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE.

JANUARY 1883.

THE NEW ABELARD.

A ROMANCE.

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN,

AUTHOR OF THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD," "GOD AND THE MAN," etc.

Now the Monsters besetting Christian's path were three, and these were their names,-Agnosticism, Materialism, Spiritualism. The first was a chilling Shadow, the second a grinning Skeleton, the third looked like an Angel, but was (methought) a Devil in disguise.—THE Pilgrim's Progress (revised to date).

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The ship grinds to and fro with thunder-shocks,
And thro' her riven sides with ceaseless rush
The foam-fleck'd waters gush;

Above, the soot-black sky; around, the roar
Of surges smiting on some unseen shore ;
Beneath, the burial-place of rolling waves—
Flowerless, for ever shifting, wind-dug graves!

A moment on the riven deck he stands,
Praying to heaven with wild uplifted hands,
Then sees across the liquid wall afar

A glimmer like a star ;

The lighthouse gleam! Upon the headland black
The beacon burns and fronts the stormy wrack—
Sole speck of light on gulfs of darkness, where
Thunder the sullen breakers of despair. .

The ship is gone . . . . Now in that gulf of death
He swims and struggles on with failing breath;
He grasps a plank-it sinks-too frail to upbear
His leaden load of care;

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Another and another-straws !-they are gone!
He cries aloud, stifles, and struggles on;

For still thro' voids of gloom his straining sight
Sees the sad glimmer of a steadfast light!

He gains the rocks . . . What shining hands are these,
Reached out to pluck him from the cruel seas?
What shape is this, that clad in raiment blest

Now draws him to its breast? ....

Ah, Blessed One, still keeping, day and night,

The lamp well trimm'd, the heavenly beacon bright,
He knows thee now !-he feels the sheltering gleam-
And lo! the night of storm dissolves in dream!

CHAPTER I.

THE TWO.

Miriam. But whither goest, then?

Walter.

Miriam.

On the highest peak,

Among the snows, there grows a pale blue flower-
The village maidens call it Life-in-Death,

The old men Sleep-no-more; I have sworn to pluck it ;
Many have failed upon the same wild quest,

And left their bleaching bones among the crags.
If I should fail.

Let me go with thee, Walter!

Leave me not here i' the valley-let us find
The blessed flower together, dear, or die!

The Sorrowful Shepherdess.

Na windy night in the month of May, the full moon was flashing from cloud to cloud, each so small that it began to melt instantaneously beneath her hurried breath; and in the fulness of the troubled light that she was shedding, the bright tongues of the sea were creeping up closer and closer through the creeks of the surrounding land, till they quivered like quicksilver under the walls of Mossleigh Abbey, standing dark and lonely amongst the Fens.

It was a night when, even in that solitude, everything seemed mysteriously and troublously alive. The wind cried as with a living voice, and the croaks of herons answered from the sands. The light of the moon went and came as to a rhythmic respiration; and when it flashed, the bats were seen flitting with thin z-like cry high up over the waterside, and when it was dimmed, the owl moaned.

from the ivied walls. At intervals, from the distant lagoons, came the faint "quack quack" of flocks of ducks at feed. The night was still, but enchanted; subdued, yet quivering with sinister life. Over and above all was the heavy breath of the ocean, crawling nearer and nearer, eager yet fearful, with deep tremors, to the electric wand of that heavenly light.

Presently, from inland, came another sound-the quick tramp of a horse's feet coming along the narrow road which wound up to, and past, the abbey ruins. As it grew louder, it seemed that every other sound was hushed, and everything listened to its coming; till at last, out of the moonbeams and the shadows, flashed a tall white horse, ridden by a shape in black.

Arrived opposite the ruins, the horse paused, and its rider, a woman, looked eagerly up and down the road, whereupon, as if at a signal, all the faint sounds of the night became audible again. The woman sat still, listening; and her face looked like marble. After pausing thus motionless for some minutes, she turned from the road, and walked her horse through the broken wall, across a stonestrewn field, and in through the gloomy arch of the silent abbey, till she reached the roofless space within, where the grass grew rank and deep, mingled with monstrous weeds, and running green and slimy over long-neglected graves.

How dark and solemn it seemed between those crumbling walls, which only the dark ivy seemed to hold together with its clutching sinewy fingers! yet, through each of the broken windows, and through every archway, the moonlight beamed, making streaks of luminous whiteness on the grassy floor. The horse moved slowly, at his own will, picking his way carefully among fragments of fallen masonry, and stopping short at times to inspect curiously some object in his path. All was bright and luminous overhead; all dim and ominous there below. At last, reaching the centre of the place the horse paused, and its rider again became motionless, looking upward.

The moonlight pouring through one of the arched windows suffused her face and form.

She was a fair woman, fair and tall, clad in a tight-fitting riding dress of black, with black hat and backward-drooping veil. Her hair was golden, almost a golden red, and smoothed down in waves over a low broad forehead. Her eyes were grey and very large, her features exquisitely cut, her mouth alone being, perhaps, though beautifully moulded, a little too full and ripe; but let it be said in passing, this mouth was the soul of her face-large, mobile, warm,

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