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London: CHATTO & WINDUS, 11 St. Martin's Lane, W.(
Just published, 17th Edition, with Chapters on the Alleviation and Cure of Short Sight and the
Improvement of Old Sight.
OUR EYES, AND HOW TO PRESERVE THEM FROM INFANCY TO OLD AGE. With Special Information about Spectacles. By Mr. JOHN BROWNING, F.R.A.S., F.R.M.S., President of The British Optical Association,' &o. With 70 Illustrations. 26th Thousand.' Price 1s. cloth.
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TRAVEL AND TALK.
These two attractive volumes are a cultured observer's records of a hundred thousand miles of travel, and they include such diverse experiences as a conversation with Oliver Wendell Holmes and a talk with a Fiji cannibal, a discourse on music and morals and an estimate of Mormonism, a eulogy of the learned
girls of Vassar College and an appreciation of the swarthy belles of Honolulu. Mr. Haweis is a discerning traveller and a capital talker, and he talks as familiarly of a San Francisco opium den, the extinct moa, South Sen missions, hummingbirds, butterflies, and wild buffaloes, as of the intellectual life of Boston and New York. Mr. Haweis came into close acquaintance with most of the cultured men and women of the towns he visited, and he gives much information that is new and personal concerning Emerson, Holmes, Longfellow, Phillips Brooks, Lowell, Howells, Mrs. Bigelow, Mrs. Stowe, and other eminent persons in whom bis numerous readers will be interested. It is altogether an exceedingly diverting, refreshing, and instructive work.'-DAILY MAIL.
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sounds strangely familiar to me still, though many long years have passed since I bore it.
As I draw nearer to the grave under the cypress in the convent garden below my cell-window, all my later life for the last thirty years here in tawny Spain grows dim and shadowy, whilst ever clearer before me rise the thoughts and memories of my old home in leafy England, the ruddy English faces, the soft English voices, and the kindly English speech, which I have never forgotten through all my trouble. And when I die, as I soon must, I would fain that my poor storm-tossed soul might first speed back to my own kin whom I have so bitterly wronged, and seek for God's pardon amidst the gentle scenes my earthly eyes may look upon no more.
For I am an old and broken woman who has suffered much and sinned sorely, though my great transgression must have been madness, for my crime was too black for any creature unpossessed by a devil to have committed.
But I know that there can be no pardon for me on earth, because my sin has been exalted into a virtue, and devout people come from far and near to gaze upon me as a saint, whilst I, vain coward and hypocrite that I am, when the faithful crave my blessing and kiss the bem of my garment, sit with sanctimonious face, whilst revolt rages VOL. CCLXXXII. NO. 1993.
in my heart, and my soul clamours the protest I dare not speak ; because I, of all people, shrink from torture and the stake.
But in the silent night, and in the long hours I pass at my cellwindow looking on the changeless sapphire sky, the black velvet shadow of the cypresses on the blinding Spanish sunlight, and far away across the arid Castilian plain, I curse the cowardice that prevents me from wearing the martyr's crown and wiping out my transgression by the cleansing ordeal of fire.
God forbid that I should say a word against the faith in which I was born ; but, if I dared, I would cry aloud before the altar itself that no human creature, Bishop or Inquisitor though he be, should be allowed to maim and murder men after God's likeness who are mistaken in their interpretation of God's Word.
How happy life was in England before the Jezebel Elizabeth came to root out the old faith! There were bad times before that, I know, for my own great uncle, the martyr Sebastian Newdigate, was burnt at the stake by King Henry, and much oppression was exercised in the name of our good young King Edward ; but of this I recollect nothing, having been a child at the time. But those who, like my own people, were unobtrusively Catholic, were but little harmed before the wicked Queen came to undo the work of my mistress, the sainted Queen Mary.
I and my twin-sister Millicent were only thirteen when one day a courier came from London with the news that King Edward was dead and Jane proclaimed Queen. It seems but yesterday, I recollect it so clearly. My father called his people together in the great hall and told them what had happened, and how our real Queen Mary was in Norfolk wanting their aid. And when he ceased speaking he lifted his cap and reverently said, “God save her Grace !” and a great shout answered him, “God save Queen Mary!” Then we saw them clatter off with pikes and harquebuses on their shoulders to the town hard by, where my father joined his cousin, Sir William Dormer, and other gentlemen, and proclaimed Queen Mary.
Millicent and I, with our old governess, were in great fear of bloodshed; but all went well, and in three weeks my father came back and told us the blessed news that our lawful Queen had taken possession of her birthright.
My cousin, Jane Dormer, had been almost our only companion, and we had since our mother's death passed much of our time at Sir William Dormer's house at Ethrope; but she was to be a great lady now, for her mother had been a sister to Sir Harry Sidney, and her father was rich, whilst our father was a modest country-knight, who
loved not the Court and its dangers, and asked but to be allowed to live in peace on his own lands. My sister Millicent, too, was of the same nature. She was ever a home-bird, and whilst Jane Dormer and I like the giddy children we were, imagined all sorts of brilliant futures for ourselves, in which foreign princes and nobles took an important part, my sister was firm in her purpose to wed a neighbour and live and die in the old home. So when my cousin Jane went with her grandmother to Court and wrote me long accounts of the grand doings there, I pined and fretted to join her and take part in the splendour she described. My father stood out against it for many months, and prayed his little girl, as he ever called me, not to leave him ; but I fell sick with sorrow that I could not go, and grew to hate our country gaieties. At last my teasing prevailed, and my father, with a heavy heart and much grave warning, consented to take me on horseback to London to place me for a time under the care of my great aunt, old lady Dormer. I was mad with joy and excitement, but my father was very sad as we rode along in the pleasant May weather towards the Court ; for the times were still disturbed, though Wyatt and his knaves had been hanged. Nobler blood, too, than Wyatt's had been shed in plenty for treason against our Queen; and even now most Englishmen misliked the marriage of her Grace with her cousin the Prince of Spain. My father had been summoned, like all other gentlemen, to accompany the Queen on her marriage journey to Winchester, but neither the errand nor its object pleased him, though he was forced to go.
Ah! the fluttering heart and quivering knees with which I was taken through the long galleries and endless chambers at Whitehall to the Queen's apartment. On the threshold of the presence-chamber I would fain have fled for mere fright, but old Lady Dormer was leading me by the hand, and my father was just behind with other gentlemen, so for very shame I dared not draw back now. The room was rather dark when we first entered it, and I could not see the Queen clearly, but, as my eyes became accustomed to the light, I saw that two maidens were dancing in the middle of the chamber, whilst another, who sat on a low stool, was playing upon a lute. Out of the semi-darkness I heard a rich, deep voice, like a man's, say, "And whom have we here?” and then my father led me forward and knelt, bidding me kneel too. And well it was I had to kneel, or I should have fallen from sheer fright; but soon I gathered courage enough to look up, and I shall never forget the kindly, gentle, yet sad smile which passed over the poor suffering face, so white and patient, of the good Queen as she held out her hand, all covered with