JUNE 90 
THE BUBAL NEW-YOBKEB. 
less night, since, Sir Alan Vincent, and I helped 
to make them so.” 
He ended with an air of bravado and defiance, 
which exasperated Sir Alan to the highest de¬ 
gree, and It was only with the utmost cl 1 the ally 
that he rest rained himself, remembering his pro¬ 
mise to Cora. 
“You pitiful scoundrel,” he said, scornfully, 
“toCherish animosity for a justly-deserved pun¬ 
ishment. You had better not presume upon my 
patience ton far, or you may And t hat it has Its 
limit s.” 
" I know what keeps you from kicking this fel¬ 
low down stairs, Vincent," said George Leeson, 
unahle to keep down his Irritation; “ but I am 
bound by no such promises. I should advise you 
to keep at some distance from mo in the future, 
and to relieve us of your presence as speedily as 
possible.” 
Marks took the hint and disappeared, and the 
next day, when George Leesou’s landlady 
lamented the departure of her second-floor 
lodger, “such a quiet, well-spoken gentleman, 
no trouble to nobody,” the artist knew that as 
well as the hint he had taken the advice.—[To he 
continued In our next. 
-f-M- 
GERALD SORTHWICK. TEA-TRADER, 
CHINA. 
H. H. 
A long stretch of velvet lawn, bathed In deli¬ 
cious golden sunshine. Four people flnlshlng a 
game of lawn-tennis, and aa many looking on 
with a kind of lazy interest. On either hand 
shady shrubberies, bordered with brilliant flower¬ 
beds ; at the end of the lawn a little brook; In the 
distance the long sweep of the CotswoldB. 
“ Fifteen," counts Captain Hall, triumphantly, 
a3 a vicious stroke of Gerald Sorthwlck'a racket 
drives the ball beyond bounds. Gerald has 
played badly throughout, almost In silence, with 
a grave face and compressel llpa. It does not 
matter, for his partner, Maud Conway, has ex¬ 
changed with Captain Hall enough ruerry badin¬ 
age lor a dozen people. The young lady Is nettled 
now at an ignominious defeat. 
“ I could wish you victor in a better contested 
light, Captain Hall.” 
“Jt is my highest ambition, Miss Conway.” 
There was nothing In the words, but the mean¬ 
ing, tone, and a low how gave them point. Maud 
bit her Ups, and Gerald threw dow a the racket, 
hisfaee a little sterner than before. She turned 
to him, an angry glitter In the violet eyes: 
“Your play has been wretched, Mr. Sorthwlck; 
It was never worse. For the future we dissolve 
partnership.” 
“Can we ? Can we, Maud?” TTe speaks mean, 
lngly now, and It seems strange her name can 
come with such tender Inflection from so hard 
and Arm a mouth. 
“ ‘ Maud ’ to my friends, sir; 1 Mias Conway ’ to 
you.” 
He leaves her, and saunters Into the shrubbery, 
following a little winding path until It reaches 
the brook. Then he throws himself at full length 
upon the soft moss, and thinks bitter things of the 
girl who has befooled him. naif an hour later 
there Is a rustle among the houghs, and he sees 
her in the act of retreating. 
“I am sorry I disturbed your slumbers, Mr. 
SortUwlek. I thought yon were gone.” 
“You disturb my li/e, Maud, waking and sleep¬ 
ing. Come here.” 
He spoke with such command, 9he Instinctively 
obeyed, but her whole soul rose In rebellion. It 
was a novel experience to the spoiled and petted 
beauty. 
He pointed to a low, rustic seat, and she took It. 
As though to measure strength, they look Into 
each other’s faces—his pale, determined; hers 
passionate, resentful. Then Gerald turns his 
head away, lest resolution should fall. His tone 
Is low, but full of fierce, suppressed energy: 
“You have not played with my love for months, 
Maud, without learning what It la. It comes be¬ 
tween me and all other chance of happiness.” 
He pauses a few seconds, wherein she pluckB a 
wlld-flower, and picks it to pleceB. Sweet and 
pensive she looks now, and unwontedly thought¬ 
ful ; but his eyes are on the distant hills. 
“ From time to time, when I would have spo¬ 
ken, you silenced me, and I thought It girlish 
coyness. You made me believe you cared, Maud." 
If only he would look now, and seB how the 
girl’s mobile features answer the sorrowful wall 
In his voice 1 But he does not. 
“ I saw you flirting continually, but Jt waB your 
nature, and I did not mind, for I thought you 
gave me more. So you fooled me as you fooled 
others.” 
“ Fortune-hunters, all of them,” she broke In. 
“Possibly.” and hls proud head was thrown 
back a little. “ I am free from that Imputation. 
Klou as you are, Miss Conway, the Sortliwlcks of 
Sorthwlck are richer.” 
It was true, as she knew well. General Sorth¬ 
wlck, the elder, had the reputation of being the 
wealthiest. landowner in the country, and he was 
the only son. 
“ it is time the farce were ended,” he continued. 
“ I have been too long the willing slave of your 
caprice. It Is not fitting the woman I honor 
above all the world should be on terms of free 
and easy Intimacy with such a man as Captain 
Hall.” 
A contemptuous curl of the lip emphasized the 
words. 
Maud started as though they had stung her; 
her hasty temper in arms immediately. 
“ By what right do you venture to criticise my 
friendship, sir?” 
“You shall give me the right,” he rejoined, 
hotly, “ or from this day 1 will never willingly 
touch your hand nor see your face. Friendship I 
what Is that beside Buch love as mine ? Choose 
to 'tween them, Maud: hls friendship or my love 
I win never ask you again.” 
TblB desperate earnestness almost frightened 
her; nevertheless she made a mocking curtsey. 
“ Love may deaolftfo and grieve you, 
Love may stay awhile and leave yon. 
Friendship's truth will ne'er deeeive yon,” 
Bhe quoted. Then he fairly turned hls back for 
some seconds, that, she might uot see the pained 
working of hls features. 
He was pale to the very Ups when at length he 
did look, In silence offering hls hand, silently 
she laid her own In It. The agony In hls eyes 
subdued her; what was a woman’s weal: petu¬ 
lance in comparison with this? 
“For the last time,” said Gerald Sorthwlck. 
He bowed low over the white Angers, and kissed 
them; then walked away. She heard a horse's 
hoofs presently, at a furious galop. 
The lodge-keeper touched hls hat as Gerald rode 
up, and ho saw with surprise there were great 
tears on the old man's rugged cheeks. 
“ What Is the matter, Williams?” 
“ Have you not heard, sir? I thought you knew 
from the rate you came, and the look of your 
face.” 
“ No—no—what is it ?" 
Williams whispered a few words. Gerald 
swayed to and fro In the saddle, and would have 
fallen, but that the old man supported him. 
"Strange news 1” said Captain Hall to a friend 
that night, “Old Sorthwlck Is ruined and has 
shot himself.” 
“ Nonsense, man; he Is as rich as C-cesua. 
“Yes; fabulously so, that, Is, he mortgaged 
every acre years ago. and bought Turkish bonds; 
that accounts for hls large income. They have 
Just stopped payment, you know, and other spec¬ 
ulations have turned out much worse. The 
youngcock will crow less loudly now, will he npt? 
And an evil light gleamed In the speaker’s blue 
eyes. 
« • • * « 
Silvery moonlight, flooding a farm-house, and an 
unusually large garden appertaining thereto. U p 
and down the gravelled walk paces Gerald Sorth¬ 
wlck, moodily smoking a fragrant cigar. On the 
air is borne a sound as of an Irregular bass solo, 
varied by the occasional squeak of shriller 
stringed Instruments. 
It denotes that half a mile off, in the little 
town of Sorthwlck, an archery hall is now be¬ 
ing held. The committee, In view of bis father’s 
recent death and his own social ruin, had de¬ 
cided not to send the customary reminder; hut 
Gerald, with a poor man’s morbid sensitiveness, 
misinterprets the kindness. With an Impatient 
movement, expressive of disgust, he tosses away 
the half-smoked cigar. It alights on the soft 
turf of a small croquet-ground, and lies smoking. 
Then, with a curlouB smile, he crosses and picks 
It up carefully. 
“I had forgotten myself,” he mutters: “ the 
last of the box, and a brand I am not likely to 
taste yet awhile.,’ 
So, with the cigar between hls teeth, he passes 
through the gate, and across green meadow- 
land towards the town. 
The rnuslo grows distinct as he approaches. 
“I think 1 am wise,” he reflects, bitterly. 
“To-morrowby this time 1 shall have left the 
old life quite behind me. Gerald Sorthwlck, 
tea^trader, China. Vague, that, and It la about 
all I know: but J shall be better out there. The 
old position, habits, Instincts, reminiscences, 
would be so many dead weights in England." 
A wealthy tradesman passes him, and touches 
hls hat. Gerald acknowledges the courtesy with 
that marked politeness which has ever won him 
popularity with hls social Inferiors, but the In¬ 
cident re-awakens latent cynicism. 
“How long would that last?” he wonders 
"Formerly It meant your are my patron, ten 
times richer than J. Now it should be for me to 
doff the hat In greeting.” 
The cigar burns close to hls lips ; he spits It 
out and hesitates. 
“ I must see her face once,” he groans, “ my 
vow notwithstanding;” and as the church clock 
Btrlkes ten he stands In the black shadow of 
some trees, looking across a bowling-green at tho 
great doors of the Assembly Rooms, to which 
heated couples come from time to time to Inhale 
the 80 ft, pure air, and perhaps draw inspiration 
from the moonlight. At length he sees her, 
leaning on Captain Hall’s arm, and laughing 
gaily. 
A bitter imprecation rises to hls Ups, but he 
suppresses It. “Are you content now, stupid?” 
he asks himself. 
A bird twitters on a bough near him, and by 
force of subtle association, In strange mockery, 
the recollection comes how he had once startled 
Maud by a perfect Imitation of her dove’s coo¬ 
ing; It was when they were most friendly, before 
Captain Hall's advent. 
“ It shall he your signal when you want me, and 
I am talktng to disagreeable people,” Bhe had 
said. He wondered whether she would remember 
the incident, and a wish grew upon him to try 
the experiment. 
They had ceased talking, Maud and her partner, 
and were gazing straight towards him ; but there 
was safety In the shadow, he knew. 
“ Coo-o-o l” A soft note, thrice repeated. 
He saw Maud start violently, and tremble. 
Captain Hall thought It was with cold. 
“The night air la too chill,” he said; “let ub 
return.” 
“No, I cannot leave the moonlight; but you 
may fetch my wrapper, If you will be so good.” 
The watcher beneath the trees saw him vanish; 
saw Maud's gloved hand pressed to her heart, as 
though to still Its beating. Then he marveled for 
a moment whether Bight, were playing him false, 
for a white figure glided towards him through 
the moonlight, heedless of the dew that soaked 
flowing robes and satin slippers. 
“Gerald 1” It cried. 
ne drew her into the shadow. 
“ Say good-by to me, Maud.” There was a queer 
tremor In the voice. 
“ Good-by ?” she asked, wonderlngly. 
“ I leave England to-morrow. Will you not bid 
me good-by, my lost darling?” 
Captain Hall appeared In the doorway at that 
Instant, searching in great astonishment for hls 
partner; hut they were happily unconscious of 
the fact, for two bare arms were around Gerald’s 
neck, and a sweet voice was whispering: 
“ Love—love—will you not stay, for my sake?” 
So It came to p tss, that “ Gerald Sorthwtch, tea- 
trader, China,” remained a myth only. 
-♦ ♦ » 
CULTURE. 
Thbrk are two theories of self-training, in 
which people expect to reach that which Is fair¬ 
est and best,. One of these Is the Christian theory 
or service tor others by faithful labor and self-de¬ 
nial lu their behalf; the other Is the pagan the¬ 
ory of self-development, and careful personal 
training. The result of the one Is a soldierly 
Christian character; the fruit of the other Is 
“ culture.” 
Far be It from us to say one word against cul¬ 
ture as a means to a higher end or as an Incident 
In reaching that end. Culture Is one of the finest 
fruits of mental training. It Is that polishing of 
the mind’s machinery which makes It not only 
run smoothly, but also shine. It, Is that large ac¬ 
quirement of Information, that extended famil¬ 
iarity with the words and ways of men, and that 
breadth of sympathy with the thoughts and feel¬ 
ings of men, which smooth off the roughness In 
one’s character, which make one tolerant, of the 
notions and peculiarities of othor people, and 
which give a man Intelligent and easy compan¬ 
ionship with other men. 
There is somthlng very attractive about culture, 
and we hear Its praises sounded so much that 
there Is In this stage of our civilization great, and 
Increasing danger of Its being made an end of 
pursuit. It, sounds well to speak of developing 
one’s powers, enlarging one’s sphere of knowl¬ 
edge, acquiring polish, by Btudy, by literary pur- 
salts, by making one'a-self a delightful associate. 
Culture, culture—It Is a little god with thousands 
of young people, who fall to see Its essential sel¬ 
fishness. 
There Is a word, dlllelante, which has come to 
us from tne Italian, which expresses Just a little 
of the weakness of culture when pursued as an 
end. It suggests that purposelessness of culture 
which distinguishes It frjm the Intensity or a 
manly character that works for an end. A manly 
man cannot help feeling a healthy contempt for 
any life which ends only In Its own amusement 
and pleasure, no matter how refined that amuse¬ 
ment may be. Cultivation for the sake of culture, 
sunlight for the sake of sunshine, polishing for 
the sake of polish—there Is something empty and 
contemptible In the very thought of such a life. 
Culture Is good, Is beautiful; but culture for 
culture's sake, we say, is contemptible—con¬ 
temptible because It Is utterly selfish, and there¬ 
fore unworthy. The grand men In the world 
have been the men Of force; t he men who have 
takeu hold of other men and lifted them, Instead 
of lifting at their own boot-straps. No man’s 
name goes down to the ages as a name of enthu¬ 
siasm and power, who has not In him a tremen¬ 
dous will to accomplish something great and 
good outside of himself. This Is the very essence 
of Christianity, which Is godliness. “ My Father 
worketh hitherto, and I work.” There 1s the ex¬ 
ample of God ana Christ, and the grand bidding 
to the disciple Is, “Work while the day lasts '• 
“ He went about doing good ” is the record or the 
Master, and “ Go work to-day In my vineyard,” Is 
Hls command.— Interior. 
-»♦» ■ ■ - 
THE MAZARIN BIBLE. 
Ik answer to many Inquiries concerning this 
famous Bible, we publish the following particu¬ 
lars: 
There Is a copy In the Lennox Library in this 
city, which bears this inscription: “ TheMazarlu 
Bible, supposed to have been printed by Guten¬ 
berg, assisted by Fust, at Mentz (Mayence), 1450- 
1455. The first, printed book known.” 
Eadles’ English Bible, page 105, has the follow¬ 
ing to say of the Bible under notice: "Guten¬ 
berg, or Gousflusb, had made some experiments 
In printing with moveable types prior to 1439 
After some delay and loss of money, Fust, a gold¬ 
smith, was taken Into hls confidence, and by hls 
own genlua and hls partner’s financial help, the 
Latin Bible was printed, toward the elose of 1450, 
In 2 folios of 1,282 pages.” 
It Is known as the Mazarln Bible because the 
copy of It which first attracted attention In mod¬ 
ern rimes was discovered lu the library of Card I- 
nal Mazarlu by Dr. Burr. 
A copy was sold In 182T for £504: another at tho 
sale of the Perkins Library; in 1874, brought 
£3,400. 
-♦ » 
HOW TO CONSTRUCT A TELEPHONE. 
Pkocubb two pieces of tin spouting, about nine 
Inches long. Over oue end or each glue parch¬ 
ment, or two thicknesses of very heavy writing- 
paper pasted together, and dry them near the fire 
or In the Bun; pierce the center of each parch¬ 
ment, when dry, with a pin; then through the 
hole made, run a piece of fine copper wire, 
and secure it by means of a cross-piece of 
heavier wire. Fasten the two pieces or spout¬ 
ing to the wall, or table, or wherever desired, 
one at either end of the circuit or communi¬ 
cation, making them stationary, and leaving the 
open ends exposed so as to spsak Into them. Con¬ 
duct the wire from tin to tin, looping it up at In¬ 
tervals with a twine Btrlng, so as to keep it from 
touching wood or anything that mav be a con¬ 
ductor. Draw aH tight as possl ble, and fasten se¬ 
curely at either end. 
This, though a home-made telephone, has 
proved so successful that I can be. called from my 
study, situated In tho third story, by any one on 
tne first floor. Through It even a whisper can be 
heard. The cost is but a trifle. 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
HUMAN BUILDERS. 
“ AH nro architects of fate 
Working in these walls of time, 
Some with massive deeds and great, 
Some with ornaments of rhyme. 
"Nothiug uhpIpss is and low. 
Each thing in its place iB best. 
And what seems but idle show 
Strengthens and supports the rest. 
"For the structure that wc raise 
Time Is with materials filled, 
Onr to-days and yesterdays 
Are the blookH with which wc build.” 
[ Longfellow. 
TURRET AND TRIMMINGS. 
A correspondent supplies a curious record of 
events, which has special interest at the present 
time. He says: 
A century Is not much In the life of a nation, 
and the following dates maybe of Interest to your 
readers. From this It appears England has been 
alternately mends and roes of most of the Euro¬ 
pean powers on the Eastern question: 
1710. Austria and Russia agreed to divide Turkey. 
Great sea fight at Kclo. 
1770. England and Russia light Turkey. 
1790. Austria and Russia flghtagalnst,Turkey, and 
Turkey loses 200,000 meD. 
1798. England joins Turkey against France, and 
drives the French out of Egypt. 
1807. Russia. Joins Turkey against England, and 
almost destroys the English fleet In the 
Dardanelles, under Kir John Duckworth. 
1827. English and Russian fleets destroy the 
Turkish fleet atNavarlno. 
1S28 Russlaflghts Turkey, and the “Bacred stand¬ 
ard” Is unfurled. 
1883. Russia enters Constantinople, and makes 
an offensive and defensive alliance with 
Turkey. 
1854. England, France and Turkey subdue Russia 
In the Crimea. 
1877. Russia defeats Turkey, and this time Eng¬ 
land looks on. 
THE REAL AND THE IDEAL. 
Not nobler arc the hearts that work than hearts that 
only dream; 
For real as the tliiugs that are, are all the things tha 
seem. 
The waters gleam among the hills, the mirage on tho 
sunds. 
And yet alike both image forth the self-same Maker’s 
hands. 
We safl along a rocky shore—the cliffs are gray and 
green. 
While in the sunlit depths below as lofty cliff's are 
seen. 
We float upon the waves of Life, with Death at either 
hand, 
And wliat is false, and what is true, we may not un¬ 
derstand -, 
We see the shadowy rocks beneath, we see the crags 
above— 
How happy are tho hearts that know the name of both 
is Love! 
CURIOSITIES OF ENGLISH. 
The following are a few amusing examples of 
the “ ourlosltles of English,” as respects the 
change of sound produced by different con¬ 
sonants. 
B makes the road broad, turns the ear to hear, 
and Tom Into tomb. 
C makes limb climb, hanged changed, a lever 
clever, and transports a lover to clover. 
D turns a bear to beard, a crow to crowd, and 
makes anger danger. 
F turns lower regions to flower regions. 
G changes & eon to a song and makes one gone. 
H changes eight In height. 
K makes now know and eyed keyed. 
L transforms a pear into a pearl. 
N turns a line luto linen, a crow to acrown, and 
makes one none. 
P metamorphoses lumber Into plumber. 
S turns evou to soveu, makes have shave, and 
word a sword, a pear a spear, makes slaughter of 
laughter, aud curiously changes "having a hoe” to 
'•shaving a BUoe.” 
T makes a bough bought, turns here there, 
altera one to tone, changes ether to tether, and 
transforms the phrase, “allow hls own” to “ tal¬ 
low this town.” 
W does well; e. g., hose are whose, are becomes 
ware, on won, omen women, so sow, vie view; it 
makes an arm warm, and turns a hat Into—what ? 
Y turns fur to fury, a man to many, to to toy, 
rub to ruby, ours to yours, a lad to a lady. 
Here nestles little Jim, 
A meusle wrestled him 
Aud mortified hia tiny Little system; 
Then other measles followed, 
Much medicine he swallowed, 
And that is how it happened that we missed 'im. 
[Philadelphia Ledger. 
In Paris society was much exercised In Its mind 
aa to the etiquette which would decide the choice 
of a partner tor tho Prince of Wales lu the co¬ 
tillion at Lord Lyon's ball—whether the lady of 
tho highest rank (of course It could be no other) 
would bo selected from English or French claim¬ 
ants to that dignity. Hls royal highness, how¬ 
ever, settled the question, by leading out an 
American young lady (Miss Y/.naga), and society 
has not yet recovered the shock. 
What a beautiful example of simplicity in 
dress Is showu some of the followers of fashion by 
that domestic animal, the cat, which rises In 
the morning, washes Its face with Its right hand, 
gives Its tall three Jerks, and Is ready dressed 
for the day I 
Politeness Is like an ah' cushion. There may 
be nothing solid In It, but it eases jolts wonder¬ 
fully. 
