"Children," cried the father, "every one must be treated kindly. The confounded wretches! Who would have thought of this, three months ago? Philipping and Nanting, you must not beat the village children any more, and don't draw an ass's head on the back of old Brinkman's coat again! These rascals! But they are set on by that cursed Rahnstadt Reformverein, and by the Jews and the shopkeepers; but wait a bit!" "Yes, father," said Salchen, "and Ruhrdanz the weaver has already joined the Reformverein, and the rest of the villagers will all follow his example; and it may be a bad thing." ence, there was the recollection of former would neither stir nor move, and the rebenefits, there was the eternal justice, maining members of this simple family, which holds out long, even in a diseased for once, sided with their father. soul, and presses its sting into the conscience, and all this fell like cold rain on the glowing embers, and kept the fire from blazing out, even in Gurlitz. Had they been able to read the souls of their masters, however, it would have blazed up merrily, for in Pomuchelskopp's heart the common hatred and the most pitiable cowardice strove for the mastery, for his good conscience had long ago taken leave of him, and he could not rely upon his former kind treatment. At one moment he would cry out in rage, "Oh, these wretches! I should only There must be new laws made! What have I to do with a government that has troops, and will not let them march? What! My property is in danger, my government must protect my property." And the next moment he would call his Gustaving in from the yard: 'Gustaving, you blockhead, why are you running about among the threshers, let them thresh as they please, I will have no quarrel with my people," and he turned to his Hänning, who sat there, stiff as a stake, her sharp nose and her sharp eyes turned steadily in one direction, and not even shaking her head, " Hänning," he said, "I know what you think, you mean I should let them see that I am the master; but it won't do, it really won't do, Klücking! we must be careful, we must be careful, with great caution we may possibly pull through." Hänning said nothing to this advice, but she looked as if, for her part, she had no intention of acting upon it, and Pomuchelskopp turned to Malchen and Salchen: "Children, I beg of you, not a word of what is spoken here! Not a word to the servants! and be friendly to the people, and beg your dear mama to be friendly also. Lord knows, I have always been for friendliness!" "Good heavens, I should think so! But wait, I must get the start of them, I will join it myself." "You?" cried the two girls, in one breath, as if their father had proposed to sit fire to his house and home, with his own hands. "I must, I must! It will make me popular among the burghers, so that they will not excite the canaille against me; I will pay up the tradesmen's bills, and yes, it must be done, I will advance something to my day-laborers." -- Malchen and Salchen were astonished, never in their lives had they heard father talk like that; but they were still more astonished when father went on to say, "And let me tell you one thing, you must be very civil to the Herr Pastor and the Frau Pastorin, good heavens, yes! Mother won't do it Hanning, what trouble you make me! The parsonage people can do us a great deal of good, or a great deal of harm. Ah, what can not a proprietor and a pastor accomplish, if they stand faithfully by each other, in these bad times! We must send them a friendly invitation; by and by, when it is quiet again, we can drop the intercourse, if it does not suit us." And then Malchen and Salchen began upon Hänning: "Mama, you have'nt heard, you don't know what is going on And sure enough! After a few days everywhere. Johann Jochen told in the Pastor Gottlieb received a note containing kitchen how the laborers' wives have the compliments of the Herr and the Frau scourged the proprietor Z. of X. with Pomuchelskopp - for old Hanning had givnettles. Mama, we must give in toen in on this point-to the Herr Pastor them; it won't do." and the Frau Pastorin, and requesting the "You are all fools," said Hänning, go- honor of their company to dinner. The ing out of the room. "Shall I be afraid of man waited for an answer. Bräsig hapsuch a pack?" and she closed the door. pened to be there, having come over to But in this condition of supernatural, he- look after things a little. When Gottlieb roic courage, she stood quite alone, and read the invitation, he stood there, looking without other help it was quite useless, as if he had received a summons to the for Muchel in his distress for the future, Ecclesiastical Consistory, to answer to charges of false doctrine, or immoral con- tian and churchman. So he declined Poduct. "What?" he exclaimed, "an invi- muchelskopp's invitation, but when they tation from our proprietor? Where is had sat down to their pea soup, and BräLining? Lining! he called, out at the sig came out recklessly with the informadoor. Lining came, read the letter, and tion that he was really a member of the looked at Gottlieb, who stood before her Rahnstadt Reformverein, Pastor Gottlieb without a word, then she looked at Brasig, sprang to his feet, regardless of the pigs'who sat in the sofa-corner, grinning like a ears, and delivered a regular sermon Whitsun ox. 66 "Well," she said at last, against the Reformverein. Lining pulled him by the coat, now and then, telling him that his soup would be cold; but Gottlieb was not to be diverted: "Yes," he cried, "the vengeance of God has come upon the world; but woe to the men who n he chooses as the instruments of his vengeance!" 66 we cannot go, of course? "Dear wife," said Pastor Gottlieb, he always called her "dear wife," when he wished to throw the weight of his clerical dignity into the balance, at other times he said merely "Lining,". dear wife, you should not refuse the hand that your brother offers." "Gottlieb," said Lining, "this is not a hand, it is a dinner, and the brother is Pomuchelskopp. Am I not right, Uncle Brasig?" Brasig said nothing, he only grinned, he sat there like Moses' David, when he had staked a louis-d'or, and waited to see whether clerical dignity, or good, sound common sense would turn the scale. "Dear wife," continued Gottlieb, "it is written, 'Let not the sun go down upon your wrath,' and 'If thy brother smite thee on one cheek,' "Gottlieb, that does not apply to this affair; we have no wrath against him, and as for smiting on the cheek, I am of Brasig's opinion. God forgive me the sin! it may have been different in old times, but if it were the fashion now, there would be a great deal of grumbling in the world, for we should all go about with swollen cheeks." "But, dear wife Since they were not in church Bräsig ventured to interrupt him, inquiring whom the Lord had chosen for the purpose. "That is in the hand of the Lord!" cried Gottlieb: "He may choose me, he may choose Lining, he may choose you." He will not choose Lining and me," said Brasig, wiping his mouth, “Lining fed the poor, in the year '47, and I have, for several weeks, declared for equality and fraternity in the Reformverein; I am no avenger, I wouldn't harm any man; but if I could get hold of Zamel Pomuchelskopp, then Gottlieb was too excited to listen longer, and went on with his discourse: "Oh, the devil is going about the world like a roaring lion, and every speaker's stand, in these cursed Reformvereins, is an altar, on which sacrifice is offered to him; but 1 will oppose to this altar another; in the House of God I will preach against this sacrificing to devils, against these Reformvereins, against those false gods and their altars!" "Gottlieb, you know I never interfere in your clerical affairs; but a dinner is a With that, he resumed his seat, and ate, worldly affair, and one at the Pomuchels- hastily, a couple of spoonfuls of pea-soup. kopps is more than worldly. And then, Bräsig left him in quiet for a while; but you quite forget, we have company. Isn't when he saw that the young clergyman Uncle Brasig here? And wouldn't you had come back to worldly affairs sufficiently rather dine here to-day, with Uncle to attack the pigs' ears, he said, "Herr Brasig, on pea soup and pigs' ears than Pastor, you are right in one point, the at Pomuchelskopp's grand dinner? And they have not invited Mining either," she added, as Mining entered the room, "and they know that Mining lives with 13." This decided Gottlieb, he liked pea soup and was particularly fond of pigs' ears; and I must say that he thought highly of Uncle Brasig, who had helped him so much and stood by him so faithfully, and one of his greatest clerical grievances was that such a man as Uncle Bräsig, whose life was so honest and honorable, had yet so little the outward demeanour of a Chris speaker's stand at Rahnstadt looks uncommonly like a devil's altar, that is to say, a cooling-vat from a distillery; but I can't say that sacrifices are offered to him upon it, unless Wimmersdorf the tailor does it, or Kurz, or your respected father, for he always makes the longest speeches, —— no, don't interrupt me! —I was only going to say, so far as I am acquainted with the devil, and that is now a good many years, he would not meddle with the Rahnstadt Reformverein, for he is not so stupid." "Gottlieb," said Lining, “you know I never interfere with your clerical affairs, but you would surely not bring such a worldly matter as the Reformverein into the pulpit?" Yes, he would, Gottlieb said. "Well, then, go ahead!" said Bräsig, "but what people say, that of all men the pastors understand their business the best, is not true, for, instead of preaching in the people who don't go to church, you will preach out those who do go." And Uncle Bräsig proved to be in the right, for when Gottlieb, one Sunday, preached with terrible zeal against the new times- of which, by the way, he understood about as much as if he had come into the world yesterday, and against the Reformverein, and, the next Sunday, was going on with the business, only Lining and Mining and the sexton were there to hear him, for a few old spinning women, who sat here and there, were not to be reckoned in the audience, since they did not come on account of the sermon, but only for the soup, which they got on Sunday noons at the parsonage. So he went home, with his sermon and his womenkind, the old women followed with their soup-kettles, the sexton locked up the church, and Gottlieb felt like a soldier, who in his zeal has thrust his sword into the thick buckler of his enemy, and stands there without defence. So the times were bad, all over the country, every one's hand was against his neighbor, the world was turned round, those who had something and had been boasters were become humble, those who had been counted wise were now thought foolish, and fools grew into wise men over night; the distinguished were of no account, noble men gave up their nobility, and day-laborers were called "Herr." But two things ran like a thread through all this confusion of cowardice and insolence, which had power to comfort and cheer. One thread was gay-colored, and when one came near enough, and could free himself from the common anxiety and the common greediness, he could find much amusement in it, that was the ludicrous side of human nature, which turned up so clearly; the other thread was rose-colored, and upon it hung everything with which one human being could make others happy, pity and compassion, sound common sense and reason, honest labor and self-denial, and this thread was love, pure human love, which is woven through the dull gray web of selfishness by helpful hands, as a token from God, that shall remain in the worst of times; and who knows but this stripe may grow broader and broader till the whole gray web turn rosy red, for this thread, thank God!-is never cut off. FLOATING ISLANDS IN VICTORIA.- Gippsland | a rich coating of luxuriant grass; and small is a province of Victoria. It is bounded by the Australian Alps on all sides except on the south, which the sea washes for over 100 miles. It may be called the Piedmont of Australia, rich fertile plains intersected by rivers flowing into a lake system extending all along the coast, and separated from the sea by a sandy ridge, with one navigable opening. From a local paper, the Gippsland Times, I send the following description of "floating islands " on the lakes. The alluvial deposit constantly brought down from the mountain ranges by the numerous rivers in this district, enables us to see a very decided process of land making continually going on, and thus teaches a useful lesson in geol ogy. "As one of the Gippsland Steam Navigation Company's steamers was recently crossing Lake Wellington, the man at the wheel suddenly observed land right in the track of the steamer, apparently only a short distance from the straits separating Lakes Wellington and Victoria. He called the captain's attention to the strange sight, and on coming up close, the land was discovered to be a small island, about thirty yards in length by twenty broad. It was covered with trees, tea tree, and bush shrubs appeared to be growing in profusion. The only occupants of this remarkable apparition were a few pigs, feeding away contentedly and apparently enjoying their novel journey by water. A second island of the same description, but much smaller, was noticed a little farther on, but this had evidently detached itself from the larger piece of land, or most probably had been separated by the rooting depredations of the porkers. From what portion of the main land this floating island came, is of course, matter of conjecture, but it is known that a portion of the soil at Marley Point, on the southern shore of Lake Wellington, became detached recently, and floated miles across the lake with some twenty or thirty head of pigs aboard. As long as the wind drove it in that direction, the island drifted towards M'Lennan's Straits, but a change of wind brought it back again, after a three days' trip, within a mile of the spot from which it had broken away. We believe it is the opinion of the district surveyor, Mr. Dawson, that the area of the Roseneath run, west of Lake Wellington, has been increased some twenty or thirty acres by the addition of drift islands." From Good Words. BY THE AUTHOR OF "FRIENDS IN COUNCIL." forting ourselves when we are suffering from real or imaginary neglect -the latter condition being, as I contend, in the proportion of nine to one of the former. I SUPPOSE that there is no person, how- In the first place, I maintain that there ever strong-minded or wise-minded, who is no time for intentional neglect. This has not, at some time of his or her life, suf- may seem at first to be a very bold propfered grievously from being, as he or she osition, and one which requires some exwould say, neglected. This worst of in-planation. What I mean is, that few peojuries, neglect, has been inflicted upon the ple have the spare time in which they can greatest as well as the meanest of man- show intentional neglect to others. Take kind. Those who have read the exquisite the daily life even of the least engaged essays of Charles Lamb will recollect (for person. He has to live; and, in order to who can forget those essays who has once carry on life at all, there is a great deal to read them?) his charming essay on Ellis- be done by him every day. You will find, toniana. In that essay Lamb relates a if you examine the life of the least busy most significant anecdote of his hero. A man of your acquaintance, of the man of poor girl, of very humble pretensions, "a whom you are prone to say, "He, at least, dirty fringe and appendage of the lamp's should have had time for remembering smoke," as he described her, had performed me," that he has really very little leisure her meagre part to the dissatisfaction of at his disposal. His case, as regards spare the audience; had been hissed, and had re- time, resembles that of rich men as regards fused to come on again. She was brought spare money. Even very wealthy people before the great Elliston, who was then have often but little of that commodity. manager of the Olympic Theatre. The It is needful to have much tolerance for manager at first spoke in general terms of them as regards this matter of spare blame to the unhappy culprit. She re- money, and for him as regards spare time. plied in extenuation, that the audience had hissed her. Then Elliston "gathering up his features into one significant mass of wonder, pity, and expostulatory" indignation, exclaimed, "They have hissed me. And more he could not say. Now, applying this story to our present subject, each of us must say, if brought into the Palace of Truth, "They have neglected me." Luckily for Shakespeare, we know but little of his life. I have no doubt, however, that even that great personage sometimes thought that he was neglected. An ingenious critic, I think it was Mr. Hallam, has pointed out that there was a period in Shakespeare's life when he was evidently much dissatisfied with himself, with the world, and probably with his treatment by the world. I did not need the comments of this ingenious critic to assure me of the fact in question. Such passages as— "The learned pate ducks to the golden fool; All is oblique But there is yet a much more subtle aspect of this question, and one which is of general application. It is not so much spare time that is wanted, as spare energy. We never hardly make sufficient allowance for that deficiency. The powers of human beings are very limited. Physiologists tell us that the brain can only undertake a certain amount of work in the day. Let us put the matter arithmetically a man has the energy to propose to himself to do, and does accomplish the doing of seven things in the course of the day. You imagine that he could easily do an eighthespecially if it be such a simple thing as to write a letter, or to pay a visit of condolence to an old friend. But that eighth is really more than the man's energy can undertake to do, though it is fully in his heart to do it, and he has the intention of doing it "tomorrow." That "tomorrow,” for which we leave so much to be done, does not come soon; and, when it does come, this unfortunate idea enters into the man's mind, "It is too late now; it will almost appear an insult if I write to my friend or go to see him so long after it (the are sufficiently significant as to the state of Shakespeare's feelings at that period. I think I have shown, or at least indicat-matter for condolence) has happened." ed, that this complaint of neglect is likely to be almost universal throughout the human race; and I have no doubt that it is as keenly felt in distant Tartary as it is in Kent, Surrey, or Sussex. It would, therefore, be a not unworthy enterprise to see if one could find out any mode of com I have spoken of real and of imaginary neglect; but there is a combination of the two which is most frequent, and often most fatal. In the case described above, the neglect was real: at the same time a thoroughly imaginary cause was probably attributed to it by the neglected person. Whereas, the apparent neglecter is more ashamed than neglectful. The truth is, that nine-tenths of what we suffer, either from real or supposed neglect, are caused by want of imagination on our part-or rather, by what I will venture to call an excess of partial imagination. I suspect that almost every human being performs an imaginary part in life's drama. But this part is by no means that of a supernumerary, or of an actor, upon whose sayings or conduct the tragedy or comedy turns but little. No the play or the novel which each one of us is carrying on in his or her mind has an important hero or heroine; but that hero or heroine is assuredly himself or herself, and not anybody else. If we could but imagine the novels or the plays which other people are imagining for themselves, we should make great excuses for them as regards every part of their conduct; and especially we should not expect so much attention as we do from themselves to ourselves, seeing that we are but subordinate characters in their novel or their play. I now pass from the more general discussion of the subject to particular instances. And, first, I take one of the most common forms of supposed neglect. Our friend rises in the world. New duties crowd upon him. New friends and acquaintances must inevitably be made; and each of these will make demands upon his spare time and energy. He has risen into a higher sphere." We sometimes use this phrase ourselves somewhat maliciously, intimating that our friend has forgotten the denizens of the lower sphere in which we, alas! are compelled to abide. He; however, has but little thought about higher sphere or lower sphere," but simply finds that he has a great deal more to think of and to do, and rather wonders (for he, too, is the victim of neglect) that his old friends do not seem to cluster about him, as was their wont in former and perhaps happier days. I will not dwell more upon this instance, because it is a case which has often been touched upon, and made the theme of many moralizings. I shall, however, venture to discuss an analogous instance, of which the analogy may not at first sight be evident. It is the case of lovers. The lover is mostly a young man, generally a disengaged man (disengaged, I mean, in the way of business), or he makes himself disengaged for the time. They marry; and, the honeymoon once disposed of, there is, from that time, the entrance into another sphere. I will not call it a higher or a lower sphere: secretly I think it is a lower sphere, for love is the one thing worth living for. However, we will describe it as the sphere of necessity, for such it mostly is. Now this sphere goes on widening and widening: notably so, and especially so, on the part of the man, though there is something similar on the part of the woman. I need hardly pursue this branch of the subject. I only brought it in to show that it was analogous to the former case, and should be treated accordingly. It is also one of the mixed cases of real and imaginary neglect. There is a little real neglect, if we must use that awkward word; but the loving person, who feels himself, or herself, to be neglected, is most times in great error, if he or she ascribes it to intentional neglect, or fails to class whatever neglect there may be under the head of neglect of necessity. Now let us take an instance of a very different kind, which we will call neglect in literature. This neglect may be divided into two heads-the neglect which the young man of letters deplores, and which the veteran mourns over. In both instances the feeling is a most unreasonable one. As regards the young aspirant, he surely might remember that this supposed neglect is simple ignorance. He can't maintain that the world neglects that about which it knows nothing. He may look around him in all professions; and he must acknowledge, that to get a first hearing, a first acknowledgment of any talent you may have, is inevitably one of the prime difficulties in the world. With regard to the veteran, it is a more difficult and complicated case to explain. He, too, often feels that he is neglected, and is greatly surprised at it, for he has won his spurs, and cannot understand why any new feat of knightly enterprise is not at once noised, by sound of trumpet, throughout the world, which has long ago acknowledged his merits. He forgets that that very potent motive in the human mind is absent in his case-curiosity. To use a homely phrase, often to be heard in the city of London, whatever he may say or do, is, to a certain extent, "discounted." Moreover, this veteran in the Field of Literature, being somewhat tired of effort in the one direction in which he has been pre-eminently successful, must needs try his hand at some new form of endeavour. Now the busy world has, for some time, made up its mind about him and his performances. And it objects to having its convictions disturbed. Besides, it has a |