wejght. These are not theories but facts, and if of a new poet. He then proceeded to remark that any opposing facts can be urged in contradiction, an evident and real impression had been produced they are at least out of the bounds of our present upon the audience; but that it was from the music experience, and we shall be glad to hear them. itself, and not from the reception accorded to it,

Such is the comparative power of the two systems that he felt justified in predicting for its author a far of ordnance. The positive power of the Rodman from common career. The paper from which the with the power lately fired is as follows: With 50 above is quoted was inserted in the Gazette Musicpounds of powder its power is very low compared | ale de Paris, January 26, 1851, and aroused the with its weight. With 100 pounds it can penetrate more curiosity as M. Gounod's “ Sappho,” his first the sides of any ship afloat in the English navy, attempt at dramatic composition was then in rehearand the 8-inch target at 70 yards, the shot's energy sal, and soon to be produced at the Opera. On being about 153 tons per inch of circumference. April 16 of the same year, it was performed for the This supposes that the projectile is of steel. Cast- first time; but its success was not equal to that aniron may or may not break up according to its ticipated for it by the composer's friends, since, in quality. At 700 yards it would pierce the Warrior, addition to a faulty libretto, it labored under an inLord 'Warden, or Bellerophon, but probably not coherence of ideas, an excess of recitative, a persistthe 8-inch target, certainly not the Hercules or Mon-ent avoidance of conventional forms, an inexperience arch, now on the stocks. Its powers at 700 yards of stage effect, and a want of periodicity of phrases are much inferior to the 13-inch rifled gun, with in the score. In plain language, “ Sappho" was a 100 pounds of English powder, at the same range, failure; but the poetic spirit pervading nearly the the difference being about 56 foot tons per inch of entire work, and at times asserting itself in brilliant circumference. At no range whatever would the flashes, convinced competent critics that M. Gounod American gun, with 100 pounds charge, perforate might safely reckon upon ultimate success. In the side of the Hercules. These calculations are 1852, some choruses, written for “ Ulysses," a tragebased upon Captain Noble's formula (which is in dy by M, Ponsard, were represented at the Théâuse in other countries besides England, Prussia for tre Français. They were also performed in London instance; and upon the known strength of the En- about a year ago for the benefit of the University glish targets). To complete the interest of the late College Hospital. The composer aimed at catching experiments it would be well that the Select Com- the antique character, either by means of the rhythm mittee should try targets on the American system or by unusual modulations; but the music, though and one of Krupp's heavy guns.

talented, was monotonous; and the chorus, " Servantes infidèles," was the only one by which any

decided impression was made either in London or GOUNOD.

Paris. WHILST the gracious love music of “ Romeo e In “La Nonne Sanglante," a grand opera proGiuletta " is still fresh in the public mind, the read-duced for the first time on 18th October, 1854, it ers of Once a Week may welcome a sketch of the was apparent that M. Gounod had made steady adlife of its composer, — a musician by whom celebrity vances as a dramatic composer, especially in respect has been achieved in the face of many discourage to arrangement of ideas and instrumental coloring. ments, and who, in his treatment of the conceptions But the music was unequal, and in parts decidedly of Shakespeare, has been no less happy in dealing weak. · The features of interest comprised a duet with the masterpiece of Goethe. Charles François in the first act, nearly the whole of the second act, Gounod was born in Paris, June 17, 1818. He and an air and duet in the third act. “La Nonne studied counterpoint at the ('onservatoire, under Sanglante," still performed at rare intervals, was Ilalévy, the talented author of "La Juive," and re-succeeded by an attempt at comic music in a setting ceived instruction in practical composition, first from of Molière's " Le Médecin malgre lui," produced at Lesueur, and afterwards thom l'aer. In 1887 he the Théâtre Lyrique in 1858, and in 1864 at Corcarried off' # Nocond prive at the concoury" of the ent Garden. The score contains an ingeniously Institute, and in 19 obtained the first premium constructed tenor air at the commencement of the for his cantata "Mornand" Being chosen, in entirst act, an effective chorus of wood-cutters, an sequence of his micropins, vornment exhibitioner, he original and genuinely humorons song for the proceeded to Rome and do nied himself to a rare " Varse," some highly meritorious concerted pasful study of celesin heal musie: In 1843 (vonnats.gets, and a not wholly satisfactory overture. The visited Vienna, and had performed, in the church instrumentation is charming throughout; but the of St. Charles, a mass in the style of Palestrina, tor finales are weakly constructed, and an affectation voices alone. Returning to l'aris, he was appointed ot'antiquated forms impedes the flow of genial and musical director at the church of the Missions Finanspressive melody. More than once do we meet a gères, adopted the monastic garb, and, until Is31, foreshadowing of the love music in - Faust"; and remained in comparative ohsurity, it having been were the comedy more amenable to operatic treatannounced that he had taken holi onders

ment, “Le Médecin malgre lui," termed in England But presently there appeared in the Athensum. " 'The Mock Doctor," might hare achieved a greater a paper which was then attributed to M. Vaniot measure of success than it enjored. the author of some esteemed works on art subiects. On the 19th March, 1859, - Faust" is procontaining a notice of a weer given at S. Mar t at the Théitne Lyrique, in Paris, but br no tin's Hall, and the productos y tr

a nsmeans with the sucetas to which its merits entitled by an obscuro author namel (Round the writer it. The French public sens slow to appreciate art stated that the music reminded him of 18 wher in its higher phases, and the rentiet of Germany composer, ancient or modern, her by its form in was paired before M, Gonzar's masterpiece coali inelody, or its harmony; that it was not new, it by bedronkia genuine welenme such a term was meant antrian or range and w e al Baucis," a three-t Opera, per not old in the sense of try and stift"; funt that it was formei far the first time at the T.citre Lrti, me on the work of an accomplished artist, and the p r the 18th Firury, ista, comoprises a Jarom oner

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ture; a chorus of Bacchantes, frequently performed it is a matter as much of regret as of satisfaction to at the late Mr. Alfred Mellon's promenade concerts, learn that M. Gounod should now be expending his and a few other agreeable morceaux less generally energies on a musical drama constructed on so unknown; but the subject of the drama is unsatisfac- promising a theme as that of " Francesca di Rimini.” tory, and real inspiration is less apparent in this work than in most others from the same pen.

" La Reine de Saba," a grand opera with a hope-MRS. BROWN ON PERIODICAL less libretto, has never succeeded anywhere. It

LITERATURE. contains many salient features of interest, and, as

To the Editor of the Broadway. regards pure musical merit, it is by some deemed

Sir:- Having spoken to Mrs. Brown on the subject of superior to "Faust.” It has occasionally been pre

en pre literature in general, and of your new periodical in particusented in a modified form at the Crystal Palace, but lar, I am happy to be able to convey to you the opinions of without scenery or costumes, and under the title of that excellent woman on both subjects. It will be easily " Irene.” It includes a magnificent march and discovered, by even a cursory perusal of the annexed paper,

I that Mrs. Brown is not only a hard reader, but a deep

thinker; and, as such, her testimony on any subject conand one or two effective choruses. As a whole,

nected with literature must be invaluable. With these however, it is deficient in variety, a fault chiefly | few words of introduction, I will leave Mrs. Brown to speak referable to the character of the drama.

for herself, and merely subscribe myself, In 1864, “Mirella,” an Italian version of the

Yours, very truly, French “ Mireille," elaborated by M. Michel Carré

ARTHUR SKETCHLEY. from the pastoral “ Miréio," was produced with partial success at Her Majesty's Theatre. The music, WELL, in course, readin' and writin' is noble though admired by the critics, never became pop- things, and werry proper in their places; but I'm ular; and the libretto, which was in five straggling sure what that writin' is come to now-a-days with acts, and more of an idyl than a play, proved in the penny post, nobody would n't believe; for that sufferably tedious. In Paris, “ Mireille” was after- gal of mine, she's a-writin' 'er letters mornin', noon, wards compressed, and brought out with some suc- and night. cess in a three-act form ; but it has been a stranger I says to 'er, " If ever I ketches you a-writin' your to London since the season of its first performance. foolishness all over my dresser in the middle of the

M. Gounod, as we have already stated, originally day again, and a-neglectin' of your work, I'll put all gave his attention to church music, a style of com- the lot behind the fire, and you may suit yourself, position that he has turned to account largely in for you won't suit me." * Romeo e Giuletta ” and “Faust,” and more spar- Bless you, every hinstant of that gal's time she's ingly in " Mirella.” He is the author of masses, a-writin', and wherever she can get the money from psalms, and motets for a single or double chorus, for for them antelopes and paper as she uses by the voices alone, or combined with the orchestra. Theoshun, you would n't credit. grand mass of St. Cecilia has established its claims Not as she's a bit partickler about makin' free as a favorite both in London and the provinces, with them as belongs to others, as I'm sure the gal selections with organ and harp accompaniment be- as lived along with me when I did used to let lodging given periodically at one of the fashionable west-ins, she did make free with their things, as was n't end churches. “ Tobias," a " sacred drama," a never no more stationary the minit as their backs setting of the psalm “ By the waters of Babylon," was turned ; and yet not a gal as ever tampered and some minor pieces, were performed for the first with the tea-caddy, nor yet purloined the pickles, time in England a little less than a year ago, but and you might ’ave trusted with a cut joint by the without creating any very favorable impression. week, and never miss a mouthful: not as ever any

In his dramatic compositions, the author of servant in my 'ouse need take the wittles as always “Faust” exhibits considerable variety, rich and 'as what I ’ave myself, even to stewed petty-toes for luminous orchestration, novel and refined harmo- supper, for I'd scorn to eat up every bit myself, as I nies, powerful choral effects, and a remarkable spirit considers 'oggish. of poetry. His recitative is usually expressive; but As to the readin', it's wuss than the writin', for he fails as regards breadth, force, and dramatic in- I'm sure them papers is that full o''orrors as gives tensity. His melody is abundant, but seldom strik- you the cold shudders; as I says to Brown of a ingly original; conventional forms are to a certain Sunday arternoon, “I don't want to 'ear no more extent disregarded; and there is an evident distaste of them awful murders”; and as to many things in for the elaborate finales affected by writers of the them papers, I do believe as they inwents them for Rossinian school. In “Romeo e Giuletta" appears the sake of them as likes for to 'ear about sich the adoption of a theory indicated in " Faust” and beastly ways. * La Reine de Saba," and exhibited with no very But I must say as I likes to ’ave anything as is inpleasing results in the “ Lohengrin" and " Tristan terestin' read to me out loud, the same as Jane und Isolde" of Richard Wagner. The ideal of the Seamore did used to, as were obligated for to lay drama of the future is the subordination of music flat on 'er back, through a crooked spine, on a deal and the other arts to poetry, a doctrine ably illus- | board ; and I did used to take my work, and set trated in the second and fifth acts of M. Gounod's along with her many and many a time, and would latest opera.

again, though 'er mother and me ’ave 'ad words, and It may be added, in conclusion, that the subject not spoke for ever so long, about Mrs. Grimshaw, as of our sketch married one of the daughters of the I will ’ave as Mr. Clarkson neglected shamefully, late M. Zimmerman. In 1852 he became manager through bein' the parish doctor. of the “ Orpheon," a choral réunion of the Commu- ! I'm sure the way as that poor gal, a-layin' on the nal Musical Schools in Paris; but in 1860 he re- flat o' her back, would read, was wonderful, and signed his post to devote himself exclusively to never know'd her spell a word and not try back composition. A new comic opera, promised by him one time in a 'undred. a year or two ago, has not yet been completed; and The 'istories as she'd read was wonderful, all about them times when parties did used to go about Dawdley, down somewhere Essex-ways. And that all over England, with nothink on but a bit of blue poor 'usband he come down all along with a friend paint, as must ’ave been chilly work, I should say, of his'n, as were nephew to where she was married. and nothink for to live upon but acorns and mistle- But, law bless you, she was that bold, as to go toe, as I do not believe could 'ave kep' life and soul and brazen it out. . And if she did n't take and together.

shove 'er real 'usband down a well on the quiet, as I'm sure, who'd be a king and queen, I can't would n't never ’ave been found out, only thro' the think, for the way as they did used to treat 'em was other party, as was the nephew, a-tracin' on 'im. downright shameful, a-'ackin' on 'em to bits in bat- Nice games that Lady Dawdley was up to atles, and a-shootin' on 'em in the eye with a harrow, tryin' for to get rid of that there nephew; and if she let alone cuttin' off their 'eads, as I think it was did n't go and set fire to a 'ouse where he was aCharles the Twelfth. Not as them kings was much stoppin', in the 'opes of burnin' 'im in 'is bed, the account neither, as was a dusty lot with their wives wicked 'ussey. and their beauties, and treatin' 'em werry bad, as It all came 'ome to 'er, tho', for she were found one 'ad six on 'em as he went and cut off one arter out thro''er 'usband, as she'd shoved down the well the other.

a-turnin' up agin, as there were n't no water in it; Certainly, I did pity them princes as was smoth as is nasty things, in my opinion, and 'ighly dangerered quite cool by their own uncle in the Tower, as ous. As well I remembers Mrs. Matlock, as lived I've seen myself, as must ’ave been a black-'arted over Battersea Rise, with a well in the garden, as willin, as they do say was born with teeth the same you did use to draw it up with a windlass; as 'er as King John the Third, as was a gloomy tyrant, as ’usband, a-comin' 'ome from receivin' of his pension, lost all 'is things at the wash, as he took to 'art that pitched 'ead foremost into, and was only found deep as to die on it; as seemed a foolish act, tho' thro' 'is wooden leg a-floatin' up conspicuous, as it werry aggrawatin', the same as ’appened to poor was a mercy as 'is 'ead just fitted into the bucket, Mrs. Symons, as 'ad the clothes-basket cut off the and was drawed up easy, tho' a 'eavy man, but back of the cart, with a whole family's linen, as never seemed to shake it off to the day of 'is death. made her pay to the last farthin'; and never will I be- So, in course, when 'er 'usband turned up out of lieve as them shirts was worth the money, as twelve the well agin, she was reg'lar done, and they took and sixpence apiece is a long price, tho' calico 'ave and shet 'er up in a mad'ouse, as, no doubt, she'd been that frightful high as not a bit of decent print werry soon get out, on the same as that woman as to be 'ad under tenpence and a shillin'; but as I was murdered 'er three children through jealousy, and a-sayin', I don't believe a word about that ere good thro' bein' rich was made out mad, as they sent to Queen Bess, as did ought to 'ave been ashamed of Bedlam, as soon brought 'er to 'er senses. 'erself, a-cuttin' off parties 'eads, and should like to Ah, it was werry lovely, one of them stories as know 'ow she'd 'ave liked it 'erself, a old cat; and Jane were a-readin', about 'ow them two young as for a-sayin' as Queen Wictoria is like her, why | Turkey lovers did used to meet on the sly, as were its a downright insult.

a 'onorable young man, tho' obligated for to climb But, law bless me, to think about poor King over the wall for to see 'er, as 'ad a father as smelt George bein' that mad and shet up, like any other a rat, and thinkin' as something was up, thro' apoor deluded maniac, and obligated for to ’ave a 'earin' of a guitar a-twinklin' in the moonlight, as Regent over 'im as was 'is own son, as certainly did was certainly werry foolish in 'im to play it, as not seem natural for to turn agin' 'is own father; would disturb any one as is a light sleeper; the same but what could you espect from a man as will turn as young Hopkins a-comin' 'ome night arter night on 'is own wife ? As I've 'eard my dear mother late, with a accordion a-windin' down the street, often talk about Queen Caroline, as tried for to and woke me out of my fust sleep reg'lar. And bust open the doors of Westminster Abbey, and then for 'is mother to come in and cheek me over would 've done it too, if it 'ad n't been as the Lord it, a-sayin' as I'd better sleep at the back of the Mayor 'eld 'er back; as it's a mercy as all London house. was n't swimming with gore, thro' a-fightin' for 'er Well, that old Turk, as were a reg'lar old fury, body to pass thro' Temple Bar, as one young man up he gets, and steals on 'is tiptoes to the winder, were shot dead, as was poor spite agin a dead and see them young parties a-talkin' tender, as was body; as no doubt she 'ad 'er faults, but certainly only nat’ral. that ere Regent he was a beauty, he was, for to find It the wicked old wagabone did n't take and call fault with a wife a' ready as were a Roman, so 'is nasty black mermaids, and seized that young felcould n't be lawful queen.

ler, and put 'im into a dungeon on nothin' but I'm sure in my opinion it would be as well not bread and water for months. As to the poor gal, to 'ave so many of them 'istories wrote, a-rakin' up thro' bein' 'is only daughter, she was only shet up all them by-gones as 'ad better be by-gones, and aint in a 'igh tower, with nobody but them beastly blacks pleasant for to see in print about your own rela- a-flyin' all about 'er; as trimbled at 'er nod, but yet tions, as, in course, a grandfather is, tho' distant: kep''er that strick, as she had n't no chance for to and well I remember mine, as was a kind-earted give 'em the slip; and would n't never 'ave know'd old soul, and did use to bring me apples and par- what 'ad become of that young man, if 'ad n't been liament, but, I'm thankful for to say, never went as a young party, thro' bein' a gardiner, was a mad, nor none of them wagaries, as may do wery Christshun, and felt for them two, thro' a-knowin' well for royal families, but would n't suit me. as the young man was a Christshun too. And so

I must say as I did n't 'old with that there Lady he told 'er, as she was a-weepin' like a flowin' fountDawdley's Secret, as seems for to be puttin' wrong ing, as promised for to take a note, and brought 'er notions in young gals' 'eads, as were a artful minx, the answer reg'lar, as was concealed in 'is turban, and give out as she were dead and buried in the and fell off jist as that oid Tyrk were a-passin', as newspapers ; and if 'er poor dear 'usband did n't ordered him the bastinardo' pretty sharp, but take on dreadful, a-frettin' arter 'er as was all the could n't get out on 'im nothink about the young while alive and kickin', and marriod to old Sir Christshun knight, as was come ashore along with

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two others, as 'ad wowed to awenge their comrade, minit, could n't put any one's head back on their as in course we knows is a Christshun duty; and shoulders. turned out to be that werry young man as 'ad been It was werry fine to 'ear about 'er bein' chrisa-spoonin' the old Turk's daughter, and was shet up tened, with the king and queen a-standin' for 'er, in that dungeon, and a-goin' to be put to death at as was, no doubt, werry proper; but I must say as sunrise, as is their ways, the bloody-minded Pagins. I don't 'old with any one a-changin', not for to get

But you see she got over the party as 'ad that married ; the same as young Peters, as turned Bapyoung man under lock and key, thro' 'avin' knowed tist for to marry 'is master's widder, as was a soap'er from a babby, as was moved with compassion, biler, and left a fine busness. Yet I don't believe and let 'er go in and see 'im that werry night. as that young feller ever were a true Baptist in. 'is

They was nat'rally pleased for to meet, partikler 'art, or he never would 'ave run away with the publias she was able for to undo 'is 'eavy chains, and give can's wife, after robbin' the till, and is a-livin' quite him something nice, as she'd been and took off her grand somewheres abroad now. pa's table.

And all as I've got to say, Mr. Scratchley, is jest * Well, they was a-talkin' all manner, when the this, and no more, if this 'ere periodical as is comin' time flowed by that quick, as the sun began to out is only filled with nice tales, as is n't too affectthink about rising, and the old party as kep' the in', but will teach parties as wice is 'ateful and wirprisin told 'er as she must go; but, law bless you, tue 'eavenly, and be at the same time amusin' as sich a spree! If they did n't ketch 'old on 'im, and well as instructin', as, in my opinion, did ought to stuff a 'ankercher in 'is mouth, and tie hiin up to be, and such as I should like for to see any gal or the place where the young man 'ad been tied; so oft boy of mine a-readin' at their leisures, why, it will they goes for to join them other Christshuns as was be a real blessin' to mothers, as the sayin' is; and a a-waitin' under the walls.

BROAD-WAY as will not lead to distraction, but When the old Turk come down for to see the peace and quietness, as is what I likes to see in a young feller's 'ead chopped, and found 'im gone, decent family, and not a lot of ramtypole rubbish as and old Musstuffy, as they called the other old 'as been the ruins of thousands, and sich as I'd party, in 'is place, the temper as he showed, there pretty soon put behind the fire, or preaps the butwas n't never anythink like it in this world ; for if ter-shop, or might come in 'andy for a trunk-maker. he did n't take and order every one to put every one else to death. ** Well,” I says to Jane, " they would be fools to

STEPHEN WOOLCOMBE. obey him." "0," says she, “they durst n't for to disobey."

A STORY IN TWO PARTS. - PART THE FIRST. I says, “ Well, of course they did ought to know

1. their own bussyness best, but why ever they did n't all SANDYMOUTH is the name of a small inlet on the kill 'im I can't make out, as was only one, after all.” Cornish coast, between Bude and Morwenstow.

Jest as there was a-goin' to be a reg'lar massy. There is not any village there, and the name is given cree, in come them young Christshuns, as 'ad been rather to the inlet itself than to the few scattered seized a-tryin' to escape, along with that old Turk’s farms which, belonging to Morwenstow parish, are daughter.

dotted up and down in the neighborhood of the The old chap he was pleased. Didn't he crow. inlet. The scenery at Sandymouth differs little, if But, law, it did n't last long, for 'is daughter she anything, from that which is to be seen at Bude come out on a wall, with a flamin' torch in 'er 'and, or Hartland; huge rocks, rising perpendicularly and says, “ 'Old," addressin' 'er pa, as no doubt from the sea, are washed and bruised by the enorshe'd bave called something else, if it 'ad n't been as mous rollers which come straight in from the Atlanhe were 'er father, for them Turks is werry dutiful to tic, and here first touch the land. It may be said parents.

of Sandymouth as IIollinshed said of the island of • The old gent was werry much took aback, and Lundy opposite, that "there is no entrance but for called 'er all manner of nice names, but they did n't friends." The coast is wild and frightful enough, go down with 'er.

-- Heaven help the seamen who may be flung upon She says, “ Release them captif's ’nights.” it, - and the country adjacent is in keeping with

Says the old gent, “ By the beard of the profit, it. A poor soil, ill repaying the labor of the husnever!” He says, “ They dies !”

bandman, and ploughed by every tempest that blows, She says, “ Then if they does, look out."

there is no agricultural beauty to make it desirable. * For why ?" says the Turk.

The inhabitants of the district are therefore few, and “ Why," says she, “ beneath this castle walls is they depend for their moderate income on the unkep' seventy thousand tons of gunpowder, as one certain produce of the unkindly earth. In old times spark would blow us all to atoms."

they were said not to have trusted so entirely to the Says 'er pa, " Come down, miss!”

earth, but to have looked for a more substantial Says she, “Never!”

bounty from the sea, which ever and anon brought Says he, “ Seize the torch."

ships to the place and dashed them in pieces for the Says she, “ Advance one step, and you all ex- benefit of the inhabitants. Men persuaded themplodes."

selves there was no harm in taking what was thrown So in course the old Turk was regʻlar done, and in their way, and it is possible there may have been jest then there was shouts 'eard, as was more Christ- instances in which they so fully felt the force of the shuns as 'ad landed, and come to kill them Turks, precept about dead men telling no tales, that they and would ’ave done it too, only for the sake of that helped some half-drowned wretches over the other young gal, as that other Christshun loved, and was half of their journey by means of a process known willin' to be a Christshun too, and not sorry, I as “ fettling the head with a brick." But such inshould say, for to leave the old gent, as 'ad a 'asty stances were rare. temper, with a nasty ’abit of orderin' any one to It was in these old days that Stephen Woolcombe hinstant death, which, though it was over in a lived at Sandymouth, in a small farm about half a mile from the shore. He was a widower. Gossips, | prevent her from falling into what Henry could not when he was not by, told ugly stories about the way but consider an evil case. But the falling off in in which bis wife had come by her death ; but gos- Margaret's attachment for himself had been so sips in Morwenstow were like gossips anywhere else, groundless, Henry could not bring his pride to and the chances are they exaggerated, even if they brook the scornful rejection of his advice which he did not invent. His only child was a son, who at instinctively felt would be its fate; and as he winced the time this story opens was twenty-three years of at the bare thought of his interference being misage, a young man so opposite to his father both in construed into interestedness, he determined to keep appearance and disposition, that people had difficulty his thoughts to himself, and to content himself with in believing they were so closely related. Handsome watching how he might best serve her whom he still in form, ingenuous in manner, and liberal in all loved, though without return. Busying himself in things, the young man was as much beloved in the his work, - he was a carpenter in Morwenstow,country as his father, in whom the reverse of these he strove to hide from the world the extent of his qualities was fully developed, was disliked. Not disappointment. The elder Stapleton, a dull, boordisliked only, however; he was also feared, for it ish man, failed altogether to enter into the question was said he had the evil eye, and the power of " over between his daughter's lovers, and, glad to have looking," so that all strove to conciliate him though somebody with whom he could drink cider and they hated him the while, and he owed the power he smoke pipes, cared little whether that somebody had to the thoroughness of the evil with which he was the father or the son. Stephen Woolcombe was credited. One fact certainly seemed to give was more of a companion for him, he said, than the color to the theory of the evil eye. A mile from younger man, and, strange though it seemed, SteWoolcombe's house lived John Stapleton, an indus- phen, obnoxious to all else in the district, took pains trious farmer, whose only daughter, Margaret, had to ingratiate himself with this neighbor of his. at an early age become sole mistress and owner of They were constantly together, and Morwenstow folk the younger Woolcombe's affections. It was believed wondered as much at the strange friendship as at that she was not displeased with her acquisition, and the change which it was reported had taken place that she was proud to see the handsomest man in the in Margaret's affection. Perhaps the evil eye had district, and the general favorite, a suitor for her something to do with it, perhaps it was one of those good-will. Henry Woolcombe, too, flattered himself freaks which Nature sometimes plays, perhaps there on his standing with her, and looked forward to the was, after all, some secret charm about Stepben time when he should be able to ask Margaret to which had hitherto been dormant, and which now, share the cottage he was building for himself in Mor- for the first time, found sympathy and expression. wenstow village. Suddenly the love and kindness Anyhow, these were the new relations established which seemed to flow to him from Margaret's heart between the Woolcombes and the Stapletons. Henceased to show themselves. All men — still more all ry Woolcombe had his own opinion on his father's women — wondered, and concluded that some one intentions, and the wise in Morwenstow did not else must have appeared on the scene with qualities scruple under the breath to declare theirs, which superior to Henry Woolcombe's, though as no was far from complimentary to Stephen, and was stranger had been at Morwenstow for many a long meant to be full of commiseration for Margaret. day, and Margaret had not been absent from the One night, Henry Woolcombe was about to replace for a week since she was born, it was difficult tire to rest, when his attention was called to a rap for the gossips to name the supplanter. How great ping at the door. Late as the hour was, he was was their surprise, how confirmed were they in the puzzled to think who could be his visitor, but still theory of the evil eye, when they found that Stephen greater was his surprise when the applicant lifted Woolcombe, the hitherto favored suitor's father, the latch and revealed to his eyes the form of his the hated and feared of Morwenstow, a man more father. Stephen Woolcombe had not been in the than twice Margaret's age, was the object to which house before; he never visited his son, and Henry the maiden's affection seemed to be diverted. was curious to know the occasion that had now led

Father and son were therefore rivals, none the less bim to the place. There was a wild look about the bitter that in respect of almost everything besides elder Woolcombe's face, and an expression that Margaret they were at issue. Henry had that char-made Henry fear involuntarily lest foul play should acter and disposition which, because it was good, had be attempted. He stood ready, however, offered been so intolerable to Stephen Woolcombe in his his father a seat, which was refused, and waited wife that she died, as it was whispered, through his to learn what the elder might have to say. He procuration. He had tried every means, as his mother had not to wait long Stephen Woolcombe began had tried before him, to win the heart of his father ; a violent tirade, abusing his son in unmeasured but all he had succeeded in doing was to inspire a terms, charging him with dogging his steps, watchcertain amount of fear, - that fear mingled with dising the house of Farmer Stapleton, and threatenlike which evil feels when brought into contact with ing Margaret; and finished by warning him to deits opposite.

sist from all annoyance as he valued his existence, By degrees Henry had come to know that he did and especially cautioned him against following him inspire this dread, and on several occasions had at night. used his power to deter his father from wrong-doing “I have not dogged your steps, father, neither where others were concerned. In his own interest have I been near Farmer Stapleton's house these he had never availed himself of it, and even in the three weeks and more; and, as you very well present case, when he might have been excused for know, we do not follow the same path, nay, we doing his utmost, he forbore to do anything which never meet except on such occasions as this," said might awaken a storm or be treated as coercion. Henry. Once ho hesitated, - the love which he had for "'Tis a lie,” said Stephen Woolcombe, fiercely, Margaret Stapleton making him doubt whether, in an accursed lie. You do follow me, and dog my spite of the preference which she seemed to have heels with that sham modest, cunning face of yours for his father, he ought not to make an effort to ever turned towards me. I hate it, and if I see it