fury, also demolished the hallowed graves at Taden. Thus was destroyed in a few days the work and labour of so many years; what was built by love, hatred destroyed. But when men are maddened by oppression and cruelty, they lose the power of discernment; and the La Garayes were of the then abhorred race of nobles, and therefore their work perished. Such is a slight sketch of the house at La Garaye. When we were there amongst its ruins, on a grey September afternoon, during a heavy rain, walking almost silently under the chestnut trees, meeting only a solitary priest with his breviary, very vividly came to our mind the scenes that those old walls must have witnessed. Now is left only a pile of stones, hardly giving an outline of its former massive beauty; and their graves 'no man knoweth.' But, notwithstanding this, they, being dead, yet speak,' and show us that true life is a life of self-sacrifice, and that the noblest ambition is the wish to be of use and comfort to others. There is little trace outwardly left of the La Garayes, but they are well remembered amongst those whose forefathers experienced their kindness; and, even when all earthly remembrance has passed away, every kind act and unselfish thought will be remembered by a Saviour Who gloried in being amongst us as 'One that serveth,' and Who never forgets any deed, however small, that is done in love towards Him. We may not have the wealth or the power of the Comte or Comtesse de la Garaye, but we have more advantages in other ways than they had; therefore, let us one and all rouse ourselves to do the best we can for others. In this world there are many temptations to spend our life solely in amusement; but there are those around us who require spiritual and temporal help. May we indeed, during the time we are still spared on earth, strive earnestly to imitate the good works done by others before us, and above all to follow as closely as we may the life of Christ, the one perfect lifethe life of entire self-sacrifice. A Northern Coal Mine. scene. NORTHERN coal mine in full work is a strange, busy At the pit-mouth fires flare and smoke; steam engines pant and puff and wheeze; chains clank, wheels. rattle, and waggon-loads of coal rise up, rush from the pit, and crash down shoots into railway trains, amid a fearful din. Men step on a grimy platform, and down they sink rapidly, and, if unused to falling, their hearts seem to rise. The air grows hot, and hotter and hotter still, as the skip slides down the chimney. It passes the furnace vent, the air clears, and the journey ends; it may be far below the sea-level.* *The St. Hilda colliery, near South Shields, has a total extent of 70 miles; the entire length of the excavations at the Killingham pit is nearly 163 miles; one of the Whitehaven pits extends considerably more than half a mile under the sea, but at the secure distance of 800 feet below its bottom. A Northern Coal Mine. At the bottom of the pit there is bustle and busy work. Shouting and grinning black, half naked urchins push waggons of coals rattling over iron-plates, and up they go like a puff of smoke. Sleek steaming ponies, who never see daylight, trot in with trains of waggons; grimy postilions with lamps in their hands ride in from distant stations, with arms clasped about the necks of their steeds, and heads bent low to avoid the roof. Black railwayguards crouch in their trains, and clouds roll from every open mouth and nostril. The boys always ride home from their work if they can, and sometimes they run races. Lights flit about, gather and disperse. Half-seen forms,-a man's head and hands, or half a face; a tobacco-pipe seemingly smoking itself; horses' heads with glittering eyes and smoking nostrils, with a figure of fun grinning out from under the mane, all the fancies of Teniers in his wildest mood seem to float about in the darkness. A cluster of these visions and their lights gather and grasp a bar: three raps are heard, and they fly smiling up the chimney after the coals and the smoke. At the end, where the work goes on, these gnomes are constantly burrowing on, and bringing down their roof. The coal foundation is picked out, and the arched roofs of this vault, with all their loads, begin to yield and split with a strange ominous Crick.' Wooden props shoved in feel the load, and they too complain and creak. When the full strain comes on them they are crushed and riven to splinters, and the roof " roars like cannons, when it is coming down." A spoke in the world's wheel is cut through and mended with sticks; the scaffold which supported the arch is dug away, so the arch comes down and the sticks are crushed. With his head touching the roof, and his feet on the floor of a mine, a collier stands under a stone column, it may be 2,000 feet high. A weight sufficient to squeeze him as flat as a fossil fish is coming down, and he hears it coming, but he works on and smokes placidly under the lee of his 'profit,' rejoicing to see weight help him to quarry coals. From "Frost and Fire." Karl and Nina. A TALE OF THE SEVEN WEEKS' WAR. "Ah! when shall all men's good Be each man's rule, and universal peace CHAPTER I. N the left bank of the Danube, at a short distance above Vienna, stands a picturesque old mill, in the midst of such beautiful scenery that the passing traveller envies those whose days are passed in a spot so lovely. To the north lie the fair islands of the Danube, to the west the Kahlenberg mountains, to the south the landscape spreads out in gently undulating hills, clothed with forests and vineyards, and dotted with churches and ruined castles, while in the far distance rise the snowy peaks of the Moric Alps. Perhaps this fair land had never looked more sunny and prosperous than it did in the spring of the year 1866, when the dark tempest of a disastrous war was even then rising on the horizon. But Nina Lenkhof, the miller's niece, as she hung out the house linen to dry on the sunny bank of the river, had no thoughts to spare for the lovely scenery around her, nor even for the rumours of approaching war. She was engrossed in her own thoughts, in a bright dream of hope and happiness, and on that glorious May morning all nature seemed to sympathise with her and rejoice in her gladness. Too soon, however, the young girl was recalled to the cares of daily life by a shrill voice from the door of the mill. Karl and Nina. "Nina! Nina, child! make haste with the clothes. I have been waiting for thee this half hour." "Yes, aunt, I am coming," replied Nina, with a sigh, as she turned away from the sunshine and entered the narrow doorway. The lower story of the mill consisted of a long room with a low painted ceiling, and fitted up with quaint furniture of polished deal, which had become almost black from age and many rubbings. The brick floor with its smooth red surface was bare and uncovered with the exception of a few bright strips of carpet arranged here and there with scrupulous neatness, and a large closed stove with painted tiles completed the picture. It was into this room, at once parlour and kitchen-in short, the one living room of the familythat Nina entered at her aunt's summons. "I have good news for thee, Nina," said Frau Lenkhof, with more graciousness than she usually showed towards her orphan niece. "Your uncle has business in Vienna with Halsmann, the corn merchant, this afternoon, and he has promised to drive us thither and take us to the fête in the Würstel Präter." * At this announcement the young girl looked very grave. "But, aunt," she pleaded, "it is impossible, I cannot go. You know that I have promised to spend the afternoon with Gretchen Schubert. It is her birthday, and we are going to take her into the water meadows to see the hay-making; she has looked forward to it for so long." "So!" exclaimed Frau Lenkhof, impatiently. It seems to me, child, that you see a great deal too much of those Schuberts. Gretchen's birthday indeed! Poor lame, sickly creature! I don't see the good of her ever having a birthday at all. But do not think to deceive me, Nina. I know well that it is not Gretchen you go to see, but her brother Karl." "And why not?" cried Nina, with sudden warmth, her usually gentle spirit roused by the attack. "I am not ashamed of my love for Karl Schubert, and all the world knows that we are to be married as soon as he has saved enough to pay off that debt his father left." "You are a fool, Nina," replied her aunt. "Do you not see that, burdened as he is with that lame sister, he must be a poor man all his life, and can never hope to be even a master blacksmith? should have thought you had seen enough of poverty and labour, and would seek to do better for yourself. Some folks seem to admire your blue eyes and rosy cheeks; now there is Albrecht Elshagen, the richest man from here to Vienna Nina heard no more, for she turned away to prepare the midday meal. She knew well that when once her aunt began upon the subject of Albrecht Elshagen, there was no more peace for her. But she also knew, and rebelled against the thought, that her aunt had made up her mind to take her to the Würstel Präter, and that there would be no escape for her that afternoon. Nina Lenkhof was the orphan daughter of the miller's only brother, who had married early, been unfortunate in business, and A part of the Präter or public park of Vienna, so called from the puppet sho after a short struggle with poverty, had died, leaving his widow and child dependant upon the charity of Hermann Lenkhof. The poor woman, depressed in mind and circumstances, did not long survive her husband, and then the little Nina had been taken to live at the mill on the Danube, and there brought up as the adopted child of her uncle and aunt, who had no family of their own. Frau Lenkhof, good woman, had tried to do her duty by the child thus entrusted to her care; but on principle, she had been hard and stern, setting her face against innocent pleasures of all kinds, little knowing, perhaps, the bitterness of such restraint to a young, eager spirit. Meantime, notwithstanding all this repression, Nina had grown up into fair, fresh girlhood, and lived her own secret life of fancy and feeling. She could scarcely remember the time when she and Karl Schubert, the son of their near neighbour the blacksmith, had not been friends and playfellows, and this childish liking had grown and gained strength with their growth, until it had ripened into a strong and deep affection. All this had gone on under the very eyes of Frau Lenkhof, until she and the rest of the world had taken it as a matter of course. But when the rich proprietor, Herr Elshagen, had come to live in the neighbourhood, and had openly admired Nina, then matters were changed. The good Frau's ambition was awakened, and she resolved to use all her efforts to secure a good match for her niece. What was Karl Schubert, the blacksmith, that he should stand in her way? Yet she was a wise woman, and did not at once take extreme measures, for fear of being met with open rebellion. The proposed excursion to the Würstel Präter had been long planned and talked over with Frau Elshagen, Albrecht's mother; but Nina was told nothing of it till the last moment, when, taken by surprise, she was not able to make any resistance, and was thus compelled to break her promise to Gretchen. It was with a feeling of triumph that Frau Lenkhof found herself rumbling over the stones on the road to Vienna, with her niece, in holiday costume, by her side. Nina herself was silent and out of spirits; she was thinking of poor little Gretchen's disappointment, and had no heart to enjoy herself. Her good-natured uncle soon noticed the cloud on her usually sunny face, and exclaimed : "Why, what's the matter, Nina, girl? One would think you were going to a funeral instead of being out for a day's amusement. Never mind, cheer up! The puppet-shows in the Präter will soon make you merry again." Nina smiled, for she was very fond of her kind uncle, and did not like to damp his satisfaction, but she heartily wished the day's pleasure were over. It was not long before the miller's cart reached a large, substantial farm-house, just outside the Leopoldstadt suburb of Vienna, close to the splendid avenues of chestnut trees in the Präter. Here Frau Lenkhof and her niece were set down, while the miller went on into the town on his business. Before Nina could express her surprise, Albrecht Elshagen and his mother came to the door to welcome them, evidently expecting their visitors. Never before had Nina been treated with so much respect and attention as was |