that our dictionaries of classical biography and the like are culpably behindhand, and I vouch for the fact that our new "Encyclopædia Britannica," whatever the value of its scientific articles, is less defective than misleading in some of the information it supplies to the literary student. I have glanced over the list of names to be included in the forthcoming Dictionary of Biography under the letter A. If the scheme is carried out as now proposed, it will be ample enough to meet the requirements of the most exigent. The only point in Mr. Stephen's explanation which begets any mistrust is that in which he draws a distinction between the bibliographer and the biographer. Bibliography is every day more closely linked with biography, and I hope, and indeed do not doubt, that some concession will be made to the requirements of those who, when reading the life of an author, wish to know which editions of his works are trustworthy.

SPOLIATION OF THE FOREIGNER.

F asked to indicate a position of complete and abject helpless

Iness, I would advance that of the foreigner, with luggage, wo

has to reach or to quit an ocean-going vessel. Vielding to few in my knowledge of London, I have found the attempt to gain access to an outward-bound vessel involve more difficulty and labour than I have ever experienced in the most arduous journey. In like manner when, on my return, after my luggage has been bundled on to the wharf, I have seen around me a swarm of harpies ready, under pretence of rendering assistance, to pounce upon and carry off any manageable portion of my impedimenta, it has needed all my stock of knowledge and patience to reach in safety the regions of civilisation. How a foreigner manages to escape utter spoliation I cannot even now conjecture. A boatman was lately sentenced to two months' imprisonment (1) for the attempt to murder a policeconstable, whose offence consisted in coming between him and his prey. In this case a foreigner, who had taken a boat in order to reach a vessel on which were all his belongings, was compelled gradually to part with all the money in his possession before being taken to his destination. Whether, indeed, he would ever have reached it, or whether the boatman, after his task of robbery was accomplished, might not, with a view to his own escape, have dropped his victim in some out-of-the-way spot, or even drowned him, as he tried to drown the policeman, is not to be said. Without dwelling upon the frivolous punishment awarded by the magistrate, I will

come to the point, which is, that English reputation for civilisation is at stake, and that it is imperative that efficient protection and scrutiny should be supplied at our docks.

Ο

THE TOLL OF FIRE.

NE after another the finest of those manorial halls in which are preserved precious relics of our past civilisation are succumbing to the Demon of Fire. During the present winter we have been menaced with the destruction of Hampton Court and all the treasures it contains, and have seen stately mansions like Clevedon and Ingestre, and I know not how many others of equal importance and interest, burned to the ground.. How dangerous are all the great powers of nature which man subjugates and forces into his service is of course known. Dangerous as they are, however, unless goaded into violence by human action, they seldom break out. How large a proportion of the destruction annually witnessed in great cities is due to human destructiveness, or human greed, is known to the insurance offices alone. In the case of more important structures folly is chiefly responsible. A wretched workman on the roof of a cathedral leaves his lighted brazier while he goes downstairs and across to the public-house for a smoke and a gossip; an ignorant builder, making an alteration in a house, places a fireplace opposite the end of a beam, or even allows-I have known such a case— the end of a beam to rest in a chimney, The fire then smoulders until at some moment, probably in the dead of night, it bursts forth, destroying property that is never to be replaced, and imperilling the lives of the household. As it is useless to bid ignorance be wise and stupidity be intelligent, I have no advice to offer, except that in every house like Ingestre capable and responsible supervision. should be constantly maintained. For two days before Clevedon Court was burned a strong smell of fire had been perceptible, yet no inquiry into its origin or cause was made. If, moreover, without detracting from their appearance, curtains and other highly inflammable materials can be made practically incombustible, are not the owners of houses which rank as transmitted treasures bound to take the same precautions which are, sometimes, taken by the managers of theatres? The use of tungstate of soda would at least diminish the risks of conflagration. Meanwhile, as regards certain public buildings, a constant inspection and watchfulness, altogether outside the redtape ideas which prevail in such institutions and in high quarters generally, is imperatively demanded.

SYLVANUS URBAN.

THE

GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE.

MARCH 1883.

THE NEW ABELARD.

A ROMANCE.

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN,

AUTHOR OF "THE SHADOW of the sword," "GOD AND THE MAN," ETO.

L

CHAPTER VII.

A SIDE CURRENT.

That bore of bores—a tedious male cousin !— Old Play.

OITERING slowly onward from stile to stile, from field to field, and from pasture to pasture, the two ladies at last reached a country road leading right through the heart of Olney-in-theFens, and commanding from time to time a view of the distant sea. They found Olney, as usual, fast asleep, basking in the mist of its own breath ; the red-tiled houses dormant, the population invisible, save in the square or market-place opposite the tavern, where a drowsy cart-horse was blinking into a water trough, and a somnambulistic ostler was vacantly looking on. Even in the open shops, such as Radford the linendraper's and Summerhayes the grocer's, nothing seemed doing. But just as they left the village behind them, and saw in front of them the spire of the village church peeping through the trees, they suddenly came face to face with a human being who was walking towards them in great haste and with some indications of ill-temper.

"Ah, here you are!" ejaculated this individual. "I have been hunting for you up and down."

He was a man under thirty, and looking very little over twenty, though his face showed little of the brightness and candour of early manhood. His hair was cropped close and he was clean shaven; his eyes were yellowish and large, of an expression so fixed and peculiar as to have been compared by irreverent friends to "hard-boiled eggs;" VOL. CCLIV. NO. 1827.

R

his forehead was low, his jaw coarse and determined. With regard to his dress it was of the description known as horsey; short coat and tight-fitting trousers of light tweed, a low-crowned hat of the same material, white neckcloth fastened by a horseshoe pin.

This was George Craik, son of Sir George Craik, Bart., of Craik Castle, in the neighbourhood, and Alma's cousin on her father's side. Alma greeted him with a nod, while he shook hands with her companion.

"Did you ride over, George?" she inquired.

"Yes; I put my nag up at the 'George,' and walked up to the 'Larches.' Not finding you at home, I strolled down to the vicarage, thinking to find you there. But old Bradley is not at home; so I suppose there was no attraction to take you."

The young lady's cheek flushed, and she looked at her relation, not too amicably.

"Old Bradley, as you call him (though he is about your own age, I suppose), is away in London. Did you want to see him?"

George shrugged his shoulders, and struck at his boots irritably with his riding-whip.

"I wanted to see you, as I told you. By the way, though, what's this they're telling me about Bradley and the Bishop? He's come to the length of his tether at last, I suppose? Well, I always said he was no better than an atheist, and a confounded Radical into the bargain."

"An atheist, I presume," returned the young lady superciliously, "is a person who does not believe in a Supreme Being. When you describe Mr. Bradley as one, you forget he is a minister of the Church of Christ."

George Craik scowled, and then laughed contemptuously. "Of course you defend him!" he cried. "You will tell me next,

I dare say, that you share his opinions."

"When you explain to me what they are, I will inform you,' responded Alma, moving slowly on, while George lounged after her, and Miss Combe listened in amused amazement.

"It's a scandal," proceeded the young man, "that a fellow like that should retain a living in the Church. Cripps tells me that his sermon last Sunday went slap in the face of the Bible. I myself have heard him say that some German fellow had proved the Gospels to be a tissue of falsehoods."

Without directly answering this invective, Alma looked coldly round at her cousin over her shoulder. Her expression was not encouraging, and her manner showed a very natural irritation.

"How amiable we are this morning!" she exclaimed. "Pray, did you come all the way from Craik to give me a discussion on the whole duty of a Christian clergyman? Really, George, such attempts at edification have a curious effect, coming from you."

The young man flushed scarlet, and winced nervously under his cousin's too ardent contempt.

"I don't pretend to be a saint," he said, "but I know what I'm talking about. I call Bradley a renegade! It's a mean thing, in my opinion, to take money for preaching opinions in which a man does not believe."

"Only just now you said that he preached heresy-or atheism— whatever you like to call it."

"Yes; and is paid for preaching the very reverse."

Alma could no longer conceal her irritation.

"Why should we discuss a topic you do not understand? Mr. Bradley is a gentleman whose aims are too high for the ordinary comprehension, that is all."

"Of course you think me a fool, and are polite enough to say so!" persisted George. "Well, I should not mind so much if Bradley had not succeeded in infecting you with his pernicious opinions. He has done so, though you may deny it! Since he came to the neighbourhood, you have not been like the same girl. The fellow ought to be horsewhipped if he had his deserts."

Alma stopped short, and looked the speaker in the face.

"Be good enough to leave me,—and come back when you are in a better.temper."

George gave a disagreeable laugh.

"No; I'm coming to lunch with you."

"That you shall not, unless you promise to conduct yourself like a gentleman."

"Well, hang the parson,-since you can't bear him to be discussed. I didn't come over to quarrel."

"You generally succeed in doing so, however."

"No fault of mine; you snap a fellow's head off, when he wants to give you a bit of good advice. There, there," he added, laughing again, but not cordially, "let us drop the subject. I want something

to eat."

Alma echoed the laugh, with about an equal amount of cordiality.

"Now you are talking of what you do understand. Lunch will be served at two."

As she spoke they were passing by the church gate, and saw,