winked him so completely, that the small boys of the district laughed over the matter. If you require a good gun, one that you can rely on, you must pay for it; and so you must if you wish to have good and efficient keepers. The pittance that some gentlemen pay their so-called keepers is really not enough to keep them honest. A great, awkward, ignorant fellow, as fore-right" as a bull at a hedge, is hardly the person to place in a position of responsibility, and he is sure to get himself into hot water. There is one thing to be said, good men would not stop one week with some of those who pass as game preservers, save the mark. 66 Albert Road, Peckham, has its trag-saw a man walking on the highroad; edy, though it will be allowed that the "I shall have him to a dead certainty." locality is sordid rather than tragic. But he spoke prematurely, for the indiHis son-in-law thinks that his misfor-vidual pointed out led the guardian of tunes have made the old man very the covers such a dance, and hoodmuch more of a gentleman than he used to be. Very likely it is true. Misfortunes often have a refining effect. The self-satisfaction of respectability must be considerably damped when one reflects that one is the father of a forger. The pride and pomposity of Bloomsbury must be extinguished forever, when one knows of one's son that forgery is not the most dishonorable of his failings. As for the mother, when her belief in her boy went, so went hope also. Father and mother have both been fools, but she has been the greater fool of the two. Both, every one says so, have done their best to ruin the boy-have ruined him. They might have seen what he was years before, but they shut their eyes. They might have learnt from their friends, long ago, that he was a scamp, but they would not hear. It is very sad for them, of course, and every one has the very greatest sympathy with them; but it is their own fault-entirely their own fault. It may be; but if it is, then surely the tragedies we make for ourselves are grimmer than any which fate makes for us. From The English Illustrated Magazine. BY A SON OF THE MARSHES. Some depredation had been committed in a country place I knew, without the offenders having been brought to book for it; so the principal parties interested in the matter met in the parlor of the one small inn of the locality to devise some plan or plans for their capture. This was at about three o'clock in the afternoon. Everything was arranged to the perfect satisfaction of all parties, apparently, but the landlord formed one of the committee. Quite by accident, as it seemed, one of the villagers presently strolled in for a pint. A few whispered words passed between him and the landlord, and the man left. Half an hour later distant shots were heard following cach other in rapid succession. The guardians of the home coverts heard them, and rushed off to find that a complete slaughter had been rapidly effected. The next morning one of the principals in that shoot walked by those covers — a public path ran by the side of the largest and he found the "head-un " stroking his stubbly chin, and using at intervals the strongest language he was capable of. "He'd have 'em, if he watched day and night for 'em." This he said to the man who was so inno"I am on his track," one guardian cently walking round. The latter reof the covers observed to me, as heplied that "he hoped he might git 'em ; I Do not intend to touch in any way on the game laws, or to give the very barest description of the methods employed by those who poach and capture the creatures without the leave of others. It is a great pity that those who have explained for the benefit of a too credulous public how the thing is done have not been capable enough to prevent its recurrence. In the present article I only offer a few sketches, from life, of some so-called delinquents I have known. for sich goin's on, in broad daylight, in | he had received some heavy "rib a little village like theirs was parfectly binders." His two captors had not had scand'lous." all the fun on their side either, for one of them had a lively "mouse" under each eye, and the other mate had his mouth so altered that his pronunciation was very much interfered with. "So you are here again, you rascal, are you ?” "Yes, I be, squire, but I wouldn't ha' come if I could ha' perwented it like." "You told me the last time you were here I should not see you again, if you could help it." "I meant it, squire; 'tain't no fault o' mine as I'm here now." I have no desire to defend the practice of poaching in any way, far from it; for those who rear large quantities of game have to pay a very heavy price for it. I have known some of the keenest game preservers of the past time, before driving, and other to my mind objectionable practices were in vogue; stern men they were in all matters concerning poaching, but they never suffered from it to the extent that some do now, not one quarter of it; and for this reason, their keepers were good men like their masters. If they found a poacher, one that they knew to be one, they never tried to implicate a man in a hurry, or, as we should express it, to make a job of it beforehand. "I have not found you at work, and I hope you won't give me the chance; but you are trespassing, so you clear out," was the sort of ex-dose like that, squire, I shan't be a hortation given. A head keeper of this class, a man in the full sense of the word one of our great animal painters painted the portrait of his magnificent retriever, with a pheasant in his mouth, and presented it to him- said one morning, "We have got Ned, squire." "Where is he?" "In the brew. house, with two keepers looking after him." "Confound the rascal! bring him into the gunroom to me," said the squire. When he was presented there "Ned" looked like some animated scarecrow; his clothes had been literally torn to pieces in the fierce struggle that ensued before he was captured. For fear the poor wretch might catch cold, through the general airiness of his vestments, his captors had given him a couple of "horns" of the generous home-brewed ale. From the way in which he occasionally placed his hand to his side, giving himself a gentle rub, it was quite evident also that After looking at the man and then at the two under keepers, with the greatest difficulty keeping himself from smiling, the squire replied that he supposed not. "What did he get for the last affair?" he asked. "Six months, squire, I'm sorry to say." Here Ned broke in with, "An' if I has another trouble no more." "Are you married? " but I be thinkin' on it." "No, squire, "Who are you courting, you rascal? Some decent girl, I'll be bound; it generally is so." "Yes, squire, you're right there; she's a lot better than I be, or she wouldn't be much." "What shall we do with him, D-?" but before the head keeper could answer Ned broke in, "For mercy sake, squire, make a under keeper on me. I bin a poacher, an' I be one now, or else I shouldn't ha' bin here. If ye will I'll sarve ye faithfull as a dog. Give me this one chance." Looking him full in the face for one moment the squire said, "I will.” I saw Ned daily for months after the squire had taken him. He was a prime favorite with all, from the head keeper to the grooms in the hunting stable, and he did his duty honestly and efficiently. As the good old squire remarked, his doubtful investment had turned out well. For EIGHT DOLLARS remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually for warded for a year, free of postage. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks, and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & CO. Single copies of the LIVING AGE, 18 cents. MONTE OLIVETO. AMID an ashen silence that forbad The world, dwelt lordly hermits, who had Looked in my eyes, I saw her golden hair; And since that day naught else I clearly fought, Hated, and toiled too long. God's peace they sought Where yon white steep is yet with olive clad, As though of Athens' fallen queen they had One gift, who knew her not, but only taught Their souls the lore that lived in pious thought And pictured mystery and vigil sad. Knowledge withal she offered, such as shone Of yore from Hellas. dim, But the light was And pale the glory of the Parthenon. To wonder on the Mount and wisely see, Your shadow comes between the world and me. But if you stole my soul, you gave your own, A royal gift, and worthy of a throne. And heart to heart, no phantom throne My only love, my wife; yet France's queen. 1 In one of his letters to Anne of Austria, Mazarin says his greatest happiness when parted from her consists in "reading the letters of a certain Spanish woman well known to you." Mazarin was not a priest, and there is but little doubt that he was privately married to Anne; indeed, her daughter-in-law, the second wife of the Duc d'Or Of man with God and God with man made leans, speaks of it as a fact. With my arm round you, and with lips close What of her work remains ?- who knows? press'd Unto the head, now pillowed on my breast. - in the loves of the people? Something, we doubt it not, from every noble endeavor Down the ages descends, though none but When shines the sun I stand behind the But the grey Northern sea still gnaws the throne, But with the moonlight you are mine alone. cliffs, and the white waves Wrestle in hissing wrath with the brown, irrepressible river. Spectator. F. W. BOURDILLON. FORTY years ago a capable writer wrote a well-known book which he called "The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World." Some of the battles tria, but with the marriages which have affected the destinies of England. They will be found recorded in every history. been insufficiently emphasized by alBut their significance has most every historian. Yet they either which he there enumerated have un-enced many of the great events in our directly occasioned or indirectly infludoubtedly exerted a powerful influence on the course of history. The defeat of the Persians by the Greeks, the defeat of the Mahometans by Charles Martel, and our own defeat in our struggle with the revolted colonies in America permanently affected the face of the world. But many of the battles which are called decisive by historians have in reality decided nothing; and if Sir E. Creasy had looked a little below the surface he possibly might have been attracted by a series of events which have proved more decisive than warfare. For, though the marriages of kings usually engage only a secondary attention, it may be safely stated that the decisive marriages of the world have had more influence on its fortunes than the decisive battles. The empire of Charles V. is, perhaps, the best example of the effect of such unions. Charles, on his paternal side, was the grandson of Maximilian of Austria and Mary, the daughter of Charles the Bold. From these grandparents he inherited Austria, Burgundy, and Flanders. On the maternal side he was the grandson of Ferdinand and Isabella, whose marriage had consolidated the houses of Aragon and Castile, and indirectly led to the union of all Spain in one monarchy. Thus the power of this great monarch had been built up by a series of marriages. It was the fate of Charles V. to strike down the power of France at Pavia, but no battle that he ever fought had effects so enduring as the marriages either of his paternal or his maternal grandparents. But we are concerned at the present moment not with the marriages which built up the power of Spain and Aus 1 Burgundy and Flanders had been united a cen tury before by the marriage of Philip, Duke of Burgundy, with the heiress of Louis, Count of Flanders. Ethelbert of Kent prepared the way annals. The marriage of Bertha with for the conversion of England to Christianity; the marriage of Henry VIII. with Anne Boleyn was one of the chief factors which determined the Reformation; the marriage of Emma of Normandy with Ethelred the Unready gave his claim to the throne of England; the Conqueror an excuse for asserting the marriage of Henry I. with Matilda of Scotland reconciled the people to the Conquest by restoring the line of Cerdic; the marriage of Henry II. with Eleanor of Aquitaine made England the first Continental power in western Europe, and thus produced the long struggle with France; the marriage of Henry VII. with Elizabeth of York closed the War of the Roses; the marriage of Henry VII.'s daughter Marbetween England and Scotland; the garet with James IV. led to the union marriage of Mary, James II.'s daughtion to the Revolution of 1688; and ter, with William of Orange gave direcfinally, the marriage of Sophia with the elector of Hanover gave us kings with German interests, and consequently again involved us in Continental struggles. I. When Bertha, the daughter of Charibert, married Ethelbert of Kent, Christianity had been driven out of England by the victories of the Saxons. Ethelbert himself was busily raising his little kingdom into a formidable he succeeded in extending his suprempower. In the course of a few years acy over eastern England from the Humber to the Channel. He became thenceforward the most powerful monarch in Britain. Possibly his growing power suggested his ambitious marriage. His alliance with the Frankish kingdom must have increased his consideration both at home and on the |