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-Emerson Correspondence, The. By R. H. SHEPHERD MACCOLL, M.A. Cry, A, for Help. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING Dust a Novel. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE: Chaps. XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII.. XXXIV., XXXV. XXXVI., XXXVII. PAGE 51 385 503 530 415 By REV. MALCOLM 562 624 East End Chapter, An. By WALTER BESANT, M.A. "From Murder and Sudden Death." BY HENRY BROWN Herbert Spencer's Philosophy. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR Haven, The Tramp's. By F. G. WALLACE-GOODBODY. "Holy Grail," The, a Coral Stone. By KARL BLIND "Jocoseria." By RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD Joseph and Zuleykha. By STANLEY LANE-POOLE Jonas Hanway, the Philanthropist. By EDWARD WALFORD, M.A. 296 166 401 21 May Day in the Californian Alps. By C. F. GORDON CUMMING 503 Miners, Village. By RICHARD JEFFERIES Modelling and Sculpture. By PERCY FITZGERALD Monkeys. By ANDREW WILSON, F.R.S.E.: 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 New Abelard, The: a Romance. By ROBERT BUCHANAN : Chap. I. The Two II. Old Letters III. The Bishop IV. Worldly Counsel V." Mrs. Montmorency VI. Alma VII. A Side Current IX. Farewell to Fensea X. From the Post-bag 8 128 PAGE 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 Rejected Addresses. By ALEX. C. EWALD, F.S.A. of Comets Saving the Eyes-Transfusion by Pressure The Physiology of Is the Sun Blue? The Travelling of the " Fixed" Stars-Water The Evolution of Silkworms-The "Fume" of the Blast Furnace Spencer's, Herbert, Philosophy. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR Editions of Rabelais in the Sunderland Sale-Relation of Scenic 545 552 559 35 562 51 115 230 325 428 534 631 207 The P.-R. B.—National Biography-Spoliation of the Foreigner Modern Pisciculture-Mr. Dutton Cook's Republished Criticisms A Spanish Bibliophile--The Price of an Old Print-"The Real Whistling. By REV. T. F. THISELTON DYER, M.A. THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE. AUTHOR OF JANUARY 1883. THE NEW ABELARD. A ROMANCE. BY ROBERT BUCHANAN, 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). PROEM. Shipwreck . . . . What succour ?— On the gnawing rocks Above, the soot-black sky; around, the roar A moment on the riven deck he stands, A glimmer like a star ; The lighthouse gleam! Upon the headland black The ship is gone . . . . Now in that gulf of death Another and another-straws!-they are gone! 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, Now draws him to its breast ? .... Ah, Blessèd One, still keeping, day and night, The lamp well trimm'd, the heavenly beacon bright, CHAPTER I. THE TWO. 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, |