against hope, telling ourselves tales of was foul,” and we knew that it held the signalling we had heard from the none but the dead. As I look at the prisoners beneath our feet, and fondly place on this bright July day of 1896, deluding ourselves with the idea that, I find it difficult to realize all the horas they had a sufficiency of food and rors of which I was a witness here water, they must be safe. Only a few forty years ago. Yet I can still see the men could work at once in the confined uncoffined dead being brought to bank space of the shaft, and their task was -twenty hours being occupied in that one of excessive peril. They hung task alone. I can recall the smile of suspended by ropes in the depths of the peace which rested upon every grimy pit, with water pouring incessantly face; ay, and I recollect the tears with upon them, with the crumbling sides of which the brave men who had gone the shaft continually giving way,

down into the depths of the pit told me threatened at every moment by a ter- of how they had found the victims rible death, but not for a single instant sitting in long rows side by side, waitby day or night desisting from their ing for the help which was to come too efforts. In the mean time, all England late, and of how the fathers had their was thrilled with the story of the im- boys folded in their arms, whilst prisoned miners, and shared in the sus- brothers and friends sat with clasped pense which chained the wives and hands, in patient silence. One slight mothers of the captives to the pit-heap, record of the captivity was left in the day after day throughout that week of shape of a cheap memorandum book, anguish. It was in the dead of the in which one of the prisoners had penwinter night that those of us who stood cilled a few words telling of the prayer upon the platform at the mouth of the meeting that had been held and the pit learned the dreadful truth. A sharp “exhortation” that had been given in signal had been given from below, and the early hours of their imprisonment. at once the sinkers working in the But the record broke off little more shaft had been drawn up.

For a mo- than four-and-twenty hours after the ment we hoped that the signal meant closing of the shaft, and we comforted that the lost bad been recovered, and ourselves with the thought that their our hearts beat quickly with joyous an- agony had been brief, as their end was ticipation. But too soon the bitter undoubtedly painless. Away yonder truth was made clear. As the sinkers

stands the grey tower of Earsdon were brought to the surface, it was Church, steeped in the summer sunfound that all were unconscious, and light. At its foot, in one vast common we knew that they had succumbed to grave, lie the two hundred men and the deadly gases of the mine. Restora- boys who died thus in the New Hartley tives were at hand, but before they Pit in January, 1862. I can still see could be applied to the victims, the the long procession of coflins being master-sinker, Coulson by name, whose carried between the leafless hedges. I own son was among the men lying on seem to hear again the wail of the old the pit-heap unconscious, stooped and hymn, "O God, our help in ages past," kissed his boy, and then calmly took which filled the air as the whole manhis place in the dangling noose, and hood of the village of Hartley was bade them lower him into the shaft. borne to the tomb. It is haunted There was not one of us who would ground, truly, on which I stand; and I have given sixpence for his life at that realize afresh not only the perils and moment. That has always seemed to heroism of the miner's daily life, but me to have been the bravest deed I ever the fact that the man who, after the witnessed.

lapse of a generation, revisits the home When Coulson disappointed our fears of his youth, must of necessity sojourn by coming back to the surface alive he

among ghosts. told the awful tale. The obstruction

WEMYSS REID. had been at last removed, but “the pit

From The Fireside Magazine.

recommended. Patients were advised OLD CURES FOR HYDROPHOBIA. to wear a hyæna's skin or a young Strangely fanciful and astonishingly. wolf's skin, in which the root of genignorant were the prescriptions for tian had been enclosed, or sometimes a most diseases in times of old. The ren- dog's tooth was fastened in a leaf and edies for hydrophobia would not be ap- tied round the patient's arm. A tale preciated in these days at the value is told of some priests belonging to a once given to them. Thus the dried certain church of St. Lambert in a city liver of a boar drunk in wine was es

of Picardy who undertook to cure hyteemed very efficacious. Hyæna's drophobia in a very special manner. liver was also strongly recommended; When a sufferer was brought to them but a still more sovereign remedy was they cut a cross in his forehead; they. the liver of a young puppy. The fat then burnt a piece of the saint's robe, of a seal mixed with the marrow of a laid it upon the part that had been bithyæna was prescribed both for out- ten, sewed up the wound, and applied ward and inward application. A field- a plaster. After this operation the mouse's tail, burned and beaten into patient was put on a diet of hard-boiled dust, was sometimes applied to the eggs and water. If he failed to recover wound, but not with any hope if the within the space of forty days, he was tail had been cut off while the mouse regarded as incorrigible; they bound was alive. Unicorn's horn—that pre

him hand and foot in his bed and cious medicine so highly esteemed as smothered him. One heroic remedy an antidote to all poisons-was occa- mentioned by Pliny was to salt the sionally used in cases of hydrophobia; flesh of a mad dog and eat it. The but the difficulty here was in getting head of a dog powdered was also conthe genuine article, there were so many sidered efficacious. Cheese made of imitations. Sheep's wool undressed goat's milk, mixed with wild marjoram applied to the wound was supposed by was sometimes prescribed. A comsome to work a perfect cure in seven mon practice was to plunge the patieut days, The gall of a bear steeped in into cold water-sea water, if possible. water was reckoned an excellent rem- The case is related of a girl who, sufedy; but the patient had to fast three fering from the fearful malady, was days before taking this savory physic, repeatedly plunged into a tub of water which was a great drawback. Other in which a bushel of salt had been disremedies were a snake's skin and a solved until she became insensible; male crab pounded together, young then she was left in the tub, propped swallows burned and beaten to pow- against the sides. At length she reder, the hairs of a dog laid upon the gained her senses, and found herself wound, the roots of dog-roses, the not only able to look at the water, but tongue of a ram with salt, and green even to taste it. No little capital was figs soaked in vinegar. Amulets-an made out of this cure. easy kind of medicine-were frequently

Vinet's Statue at Lausanne.-After long Zwinglius in modern times. At his death and only partially explained delay, his funds were raised for erecting a suitable native country, Switzerland, is preparing memorial, and the sum has since reached to honor the memory of Vinet by a me- the amount of 40,000 francs. Several memorial in Lausanne, where he passed most morial tablets have been erected by his of his life. It is now above half a century loving pupils or the admirers of his works, since the good man and great theologian but now the rulers of the Canton de Vaud died. He was one of the chief founders have resolved to have a statue in their of the Free Church of Switzerland, a capital of the man whose memory they worthy colleague of Malan and Merle have always honored. d'Aubigné, and the true successor of


No. 2729-October 24, 1896.

From Beginning,

Vol. CCXI.



[ocr errors]




210 221

[ocr errors]


Blackwood's Magazine, .
Seton Merriman,

Cornhill Magazine,

FICTION. By Andrew de Ternant, Gentleman's Magazine,

Gentleman's Magazine, .
VI. How TO SEE THE Zoo. By C. J.

Cornhill Magazine,

By H. P. Palmer,

Temple Bar,



248 251






TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. FOR SIX DOLLARS remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctnally for. warded for a year, free of postage.

Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks, and money-orders should be made payable to the order of the LIVING AGE CO.

Singie copies of the LIVING AGE, 15 cents.

ERSTER SCHULGANG. — (SOUTH ANGONI- Shaking the dew in showers

From the tall grass, waving its russet (With apologies to A. T. Q. C. ánd Mr. William

plumes Canton.)

High over their headsLi ri ku lira lipenga-te, te, te.

The children come. The sun looks over the Zomba peaks,

One by one, along the path Over the wide, glittering river, And the grey-green bango-reeds of the Wrapped in their white cloths, they come,

And from every reed-fenced kraal marsh, And the golden-green wide reaches of Boys and girls come forth

All go on togetherplain,

Fleet-footed, slender, soft-eyed, Where the silver mists lay curling all night

With heads like a black lamb's fleece, in the hollows. He has drunk up the mists—he has wak- And white teeth flashing in smiles

The children come. ened the folkWhere the round huts nestle amid the Through the Bush, drenched with dew, grass,

With gossamer ropes of diamonds The blue smoke rising from their thatch; Stretching from bough to boughThe earth is awake and astir

The hushed, golden-green Bush, And, far off, on the hill, the lipenga is With its strange scents of hidden flowers, blown

With its open sunny glades, The hill where the white folk dwell

Where the zebras graze before the noon For the children to come to school.

grows hot

Where the thorn-tree is powdered with Te, te, te, brays the gourd-trumpet,

gold Where Zuze stands on a rock

And the wood-pigeon coos, Blowing with all his strength

And the plantain-bird's mellow call to his A little white-robed figure with raised,

mate bare bronze arms,

Sounds afar from the water-courseLike a flute-player of old Egypt,

Along the winding woodland paths
Time for school-for school,

The children come.
And afar over the plain
The children are coming.

The rocky path winds up the hill

Pearly grey tree-trunks shimmer All round couch the mountains

Through depth on depth of greenness. Like lions slowly awakening,

Up the hill the children come singingAs the golden sunlight creeps downwards “Yesu

a dza ku werenga

ache along their flanks

abwino" Nguwi, black, lowering sphinx-like over The voices rise and fall-stop and begin the plain,

again, And craggy Lipepete

Nearer and nearerAnd forest-clad Bangala,

And, hark, the Aute-notes in between, And Dzonze, where the lions live-a Shrill and sweet as a warbling birdshapeless, rounded mass

The children are coming! And Mvai's trifid granite peak

Mahea, with spear in hand, Silent, lonely, awful—a grey pyramid And his hunting-dog in a leashRising out of the grim silence of the And Bvalani playing his flute, Bush

Crowned with his palm-leaf coronal And Chirobwe, far away

Wreathed with crimson liliesSapphire-blue, beautiful, with one sharp And Mbuya, lissom and laughing-eyed, midmost crag,

With the plump brown shoulders and the Ever finger-like, pointing upward.

twinkling feet

And slender Chisenga, with the little head Over the plain they come,

And the great fawn eyes, and the soft Along the narrow paths

curls round her foreheadUntouched by wheel or hoof

More and more of them, singing, up the Trodden smooth by countless bare feet,

hill Where the fisi, passing in the night,

The children come! Has left his foot-pri 4.



A. W.

[ocr errors]


From Blackwood's Magazine, and, as we might add, of every naFORTUNES OF PARIS.


We are not sketching the recent Paris has been the heart of France political history of France. We shall since Louis XI consolidated a kingdom. only remark, by way of introducing But the Revolution - the Revolution Captain Bingham's suggestive “Recolpar excellence changed all former lections," that the government has conditions. Under the old régime the

oscillated between democracy and dicgrands seigneurs crowded to the court tatorships since the assembling of the from the country to rival each other in States-General and the collapse of the old the race to ruin. But only the men of régime. The coups d'état of Fructidor the bluest blood and the highest pre- the autocracy of Napoleon.

and Brumaire had prepared the way for

Louis tensions were welcomed to the Louvre or the royal chateaux, although each of

XVIII. accepted the constitutional

charter drawn up and submitted by an the seigneurs had his followers or para

elected Assembly, and Charles X. was sites, whom he sought to advance. Each province had its parliament and sent into exile for tampering with that

essential title of the Restoration. its governor, who held the little court which sufficed for local ambitions.

Louis Philippe, who might have done

better for himself and his family had he There the poorer noble or the well-born

been wise enough to insist on a regency hobereau could cut a certain figure, and

and the rights of the young Duke of hope for a place or a sinecure suited to his station. There was a local noblesse French” and the chosen of the people,


the “King of the of the robe, with a host of hangers-on,

who elected to dismiss him in his turn and besides the multiplicity of minor

when he outraged democratic susceptiofficial appointments which have al

bilities. The prince president, when he ways existed in France, there were

violated his sacramental oath and openings for men of brains and cupidity

terrorized the Boulevards with as intendants to administer the domains of the absentees,-to grind the vassals, butchery, pleading Hugo's åváykn and to exact the corvées, and to take heavy sought absolution in an appeal to the

imperative stress of circumstances, toll for themselves in the shape of commission and douceurs. That state of democracy, whom he hoped to master

when the reins of government were society was swept away by the Revo.

held firmly in his hands. Again he had lution. In those times of turmoil and

recourse to the same expedient of the terror, when the democratic caldron

plebiscite, when his power had been boiled over, the hereditary aristocracy

shaken and his popularity endangered disappeared, and the places they had

by the Mexican fiasco and his mismanfilled were left vacant. Society was

agement of foreign affairs. Since that shaken to its foundations, and a new

memorable day of September, when the world had come up, with the general gentlemen of the pavement approprilevelling of classes, where everything ated power, what we may call the tras thrown open to talent, energy, self

constitutional democracy has bad confidence, and audacity. The map of France was remodelled; the provinces, tion of the interval of Parisian anarchy

everything its own way, with the excepwith their semi-independent satraps, under the Commune, which was the who squandered their revenues in a sort most fundamentally democratic develof semi-Oriental state, gave place to de

opment of all. partments administered by préfets, ap

Paris is the most inviting field for pointed and directed by a central adventurers; and it is perhaps the surauthority. Then the gravitation

est proof of thu vitality and sound towards centralization in the capital qualities of a really great nation, that became inevitable, and toenceforth

France has not only survived the Peris has been the happy hunting

1 Recollections of Paris. By Captain the Hon. ground of adventurers of every kind, D. Bingham. Chapman & Hall, 1896.


« VorigeDoorgaan »