THE FRENCH HOUSE OF COMMONS. THE Vicomte de Vogüé, under the title of “Parliamentary Explorations," describes, in a fashion which has provoked considerable comment, the French Chamber of to-day in the Revue des Deux Mondes. He begins by pointing out that the great square building on the left bank of the Seine was once the home of Françoise de Bourbon, daughter of Louis XIV. a Mdlle, de la Vallière, and the Chamber of Deputies itself he compares aptly enough to a theatre. The most striking thing about the large hall, according to M. de Vogüé, is the fact that there are no visible windows, and therefore no communication with what goes on outside or with the fresh air, what light there is penetrating through a dim skylight placed in the roof.

As for the Right and Left, the words are now merely symbolical, the Députés sitting much where they like; but strangely enough, when an orator gets up to speak, he still, when he wishes to address the Radicals, turns to the left, and when speaking to the Conservatives, to the right. According to this anything but reverent critic, when a French Parliamentary orator addresses, say, the Socialists, he has to squint to produce the desired effect. If certain important days are excepted, the French Parliament is rarely more than half full, and low-toned conversation goes on quite freely while some special subject is under discussion.

The couloirs, as they are called, answer to the English "lobbies," and are in reality not corridors, but three large halls overlooking the inner court of the building. The continual tramping up and down reminds M. de Vogüé of the exercise-hall of a prison. The Députés do all their correspondence in the Salle des Conferences on a low, horse-shoe table, laden with paper and pens. In the same room is to be found the newspaper-table, where "members consult the press much as a woman consults her mirror." The couloirs are the true centre of French parliamentary life; there the Député is really at ease, and adopts quite another manner to that which he adopts when he is in the House itself. The Salon de la Paix is, curiously enough, the hall where the journalists lie in wait for the members, and this salon is next to the kitchen. The library, which boasts of a fine ceiling, painted by Delacroix, is only frequented by those who wish to look up a reference or consult a file. But the apartment is generally a peaceful and deserted spot, for the average Frenchman prefers to do his intellectual work at home.

M. de Vogué was much struck by the fashion in which the very same men who were attacking one another violently a few moments before, would afterwards meet in the couloirs as friends and comrades. There are few exceptions to this rule, but on the whole the French Député seems to be a forgiving animal. According to the writer the French Chamber is in reality a theatre, where every actor plays his role to the gallery, and the couloirs represent the green-room. Once or twice an attempt was made to hold night sittings, but the Government quickly put an end to the project, knowing well that no Cabinet would survive long under such exciting and fatiguing conditions.

MARTIN LUTHER'S dictum on Sunday observance, as quoted by Max O'Rell in the Cosmopolitan, runs thus:"If anywhere the day is made holy for the mere day's sake, then I command you to work on it, ride on it, dance on it, do anything that will reprove this encroachment on Christian spirit and liberty."

THE FAMILY OF-THE FUTURE. MARY S, GILLILAND, writing in the Internation‹ ? Journal of Ethics upon "Women in the Community and the Family," discusses the question as to whether or not it is possib.3 for a woman to combine public ambition with the responsibilities of maternity. She thinks that with a reorganised and simplified family life all mothers might devote a larger amount of time and infinitely more care to their babies, while at the same time they took their fair share of public and social work. At present family life, she maintains, is not organised on rational principles. Twenty years of the best years of a married woman's life are absorbed in the minutia of family life. Many children exhaust her physically, mentally, and morally, she is the most overworked and the most hopelessly exploited of all our social slaves. It would be well, therefore, she thinks, that men and women should agree that a woman's child-bearing years should be very much reduced in number, and a longer period should be permitted between the births of the children, and that the man should take a greater share in the rearing and training of the child. It would surely be a more manly and suitable thing for a man to amuse his own children, or even to put them to bed while his wife went out to work or amusement, than that the man should always take the outside work and amusement and the woman always see to the children. This, however, is not all that Mrs. Gilliland proposes. She says:

Besides, we want to arrange the home life so that it shall not debar women from public life. And just at present her husband is about the only person who can co-operate with a married woman towards this end. This will not be always so. Things will be easier for both men and women when family life is less isolated, and arranged on a more co-operative basis. The family of the future will not, I trust, set itself down within four narrow walls and seek to be sufficient unto itself within them. We shall try, I hope, what co-operative dwellings can do. In such dwellings there might be suites of rooms, larger and smaller, to suit the needs of single men and women, or of married people and their children. These suites would provide their inmates with the privacy of the present home, but would avoid the exclusiveness of the present-day flat. There would be a common drawing-room, a common diningroom, managed as such rooms are managed in a good hotel to-day. The service of the whole would be managed from a common centre, cutting off at one blow the greatest domestic worry of a modern woman's life, and encouraging the organising of the work by skilled experts, which it needs. There might be a large, airy, sunny, common nursery, presided over by trained kindergarten nurses. The skilled education of the children might go on from the earliest years. Think of the superiority of such nurseries and such care over the nurseries and the care possible to the children of the vast majority, even, of the middle classes. Think of the fine common library there might be; think of the fine solid building of good design; think how a few commonly held works of art, of the first order, might replace the trumpery decorations of the presentday individualistically arrayed establishment; think of the good and wholesome and well-cooked and varied food which might, at less cost, replace the burnt mutton-chops and muddy coffee of the suburban villa.

When the boys and girls of a family grow up, each having been educated to the best possible advantage, and each having been fitted to earn his or her own livelihood, each might move out to a private set of rooms in the same building (if their work admitted of their living there), thus securing that independence and privacy which young women need as much as young men, and which both need to ask from their families as much as from the public. Think of the bigger, wholesomer family feeling that would grow up in such a community. How men and women would grow up knowing each other with an intimacy and freedom unknown to us. Think of the immense benefit to old people and to those who have the care of the aged.

WILLIAM WALDORF ASTOR. THE Phrenological Magazine publishes an interesting analysis of the character of William Waldorf Astor, the proprietor of the Pall Mall Gazette and of Cliveden. He was born in 1817, was educated at Columbia College, entered the Law School, and was admitted to the Bar. When he was twenty-nine years of age he was elected to the Assembly as a Republican. After a time he was elected to a seat in the State Senate, and then President Arthur made him United States Minister at Rome. In his diplomatic leisure he wrote two novels, studied painting and modelling, and became a kind of Admirable Crichton. On his return to New York he decided to leave his native land and take up his abode in England. The following is the phrenologist's diagnosis of his character:

His intellectual and self-perfecting faculties are well represented. So are also his moral and intuitive faculties.

He is a man of great decision and will-power-he seldom, if ever, gives up a project he once sets his mind upon; he, however, takes care to make sure of his ground before he treads upon it. He looks before he leaps. His head is broad on the top and along the superior parietal region. It does not slope off at an angle of 45 degrees like an Australian natives, but indicates a manly character, a reliable chief, a man of his word, and one to impress those who meet him with a feeling of assurance. He does not need to remind people that he means what he says, it goes without saying, for it is stamped in his large development of Firmness, Conscientiousness and Cautiousness.

He is shrewd and prudent; he is not a man to squander recklessly, or spend a pound where half that amount will answer the same purpose. His head indicates that he knows the value of money, and although he will want twenty shillings to every pound, he will give it himself. Such a nature is just in small as well as in "big concerns." He cannot stoop to

meanness.

His ideas are comprehensive; he takes in everything almost at a glance. If Conservative in politics he belongs to the Liberal section. He believes in order, regulation, discipline. He is no friend of Anarchism. He may be a Christian Socialist, for his views on the "Living Wage would be those of paying a man according to the quality and quantity of his work, not by the sweating system

He is a man of critical judgment, a connoisseur in art, and must show great taste and elegance of style, yet is not showy. His head presents thought as a speciality; his cousin, John Jacob Astor, indicates scientific, practical observation as his speciality; hence the two are very dissimilar in characteristics.

The one would reason out a thing, the other would demonstrate it. This difference must show itself in the novels they have written. Mr. William Waldorf Astor possesses keen mental grasp, criticism, discernment of men and things, sympathy with the masses, perhaps not to the extent of a philanthropist, yet it will be well-organized charity.

He is a good financier, and a capable opponent in debate. He would have succeeded well in the Law had he continued in that profession. He is not one to waste many words, or any time. He knows how to be perfectly at home, and can put strangers at their ease in his company. He is candid without committing himself.

LORD KELVIN ON JOULE.

A GLOWING appreciation of James Prescott Joule, prefaced by a fine portrait, is contributed to Cassier's for September by Lord Kelvin. We get an interesting glimpse of the friendship of two great men of science, its origin and character. Says the writer:

I can never forget the British Association at Oxford in the year 1847, when in one of the sections I heard a paper read by a very unassuming young man who betrayed no consciousness in his manner that he had a great idea to unfold. I was tremendously struck with the paper. I at first thought that it

could not be true... After the reading of the paper I had a few words of conversation with the author, James Joule, which was the beginning of our forty years' acquaintance and friendship.

Then and there in the Radcliffe Library, Oxford, we parted, both of us, I am sure, feeling that we had much more to say to one another and much matter for reflection in what we had talked over that evening. But what was my surprise a fortnight later when, walking down the valley of Chamounix, I saw in the distance a young man walking up the road towards me and carrying in his hand something which looked like a stick, but which he was using neither as an Alpenstock nor as a walking-stick. It was Joule with a long thermometer in his hand, which he would not trust by itself in the char-à-banc coming slowly up the hill behind him, lest it should get broken. But there, comfortably and safely seated on the char-à-banc, was his bride-the sympathetic companion and sharer in his work of after years. He had not told me in Section A or in the Radcliffe Library that he was going to be married in three days, but now, in the valley of Chamounix, he introduced me to his young wife. We appointed to meet again a fortnight later at Martigny, to make experiments on the heat of a waterfall (Sallanches) with that thermometer; and afterwards we met again and again and again, and from that time, indeed, remained close friends till the end of Joule's life.

Mr. Winans and his Deer Forests.

I DID Mr. Winans an injustice in the August number of the REVIEW. I compared him to Mr. W. Waldorf Astor, whose method of enforcing the rights of property at Cliveden seemed to me somewhat to resemble the method of Mr. Winans in the deer forests of Inverness. This was a mistake. Mr. Winans had his own methods; they were not those of Mr. Astor. In the same article I made a remark which has been mado a hundred times before, but which I have now ascertained is without foundation. Popular report has it that Mr. Winans depopulated whole districts to make a solitude for his deer. As a matter of fact, whatever was done in the way of depopulating the 300,000 acres which he at one time rented for deer driving, was done not by him, but by the lairds who let him the forests. He cleared out two sheep farms, but if he depopulated the farms of shepherds, he restocked them with gillies. Another frequently asserted belief is that it was Mr. Winans whose high-handed enforcement of the extreme rights of property gave bitterness and revolutionary edge to the Crofter agitation. I went to Inverness to see the Crofter chiefs and leaders of the agitators, and heard what they thought about it. I found that Mr. Winans was far more unpopular with the lairds and the sporting tenants than among the Crofters. They rather liked him than otherwise, for the same reason that the Roman Emperor wished all his enemies to have one neck. He was a useful object-lesson as to the ultimate result of deer foresting. He was a liberal paymaster. He increased the number of the herds of deer, he employed a considerable number of gillies, and he spent an immense amount of money in the country. His pet lamb case was invaluable to the agitators, his lawsuits fattened a score of lawyers, and the land leaguers bore him no grudge for his feuds with neighbouring lairds. Mr. Winans for the last eight years has not fired a gun in the Highlands. He has now only fifty thousand acres rented, and the day is long past when he used to spend £30,000 a year in rent, lawsuits and expenses. He is old and infirm. But the tradition of the Deer Forest King who held a county in fee and reigned as Nimrod from sea to sea still lingers in these northern parts, and some day I venture to hope that I may have the chance of giving my readers a Character Sketch of this remarkable and typical American.

SUNDAY REST FOR SERVANTS.

A PRACTICAL SUGGESTION. BY DR. A. R. WALLACE.

I REALLY think in future I shall have to make my own bed on Sunday morning; such at least is the practical moral which many readers will not fail to draw from the admirable paper which Dr. Alfred R. Wallace has contributed to the Nineteenth Century, entitled "A Suggestion to Sabbath Keepers." It has long been recognised as a difficulty among advocates of one day's rest in seven, that domestic service places an almost insuperable obstacle to the strict execution of the Mosaic charter of the worker's leisure.

MAKE SUNDAY WORK A LABOUR OF CHARITY.

Speaking broadly, domestic servants are the only class which is uniformly deprived of the whole or part of its day's rest. How can this difficulty be overcome? Some work must be done in the house, but it by no means follows that that work must of necessity be done by the servant or servants. Why not, suggests Dr. Wallace, allow the servant her Sunday off, and let the domestic service in the one day in seven be performed as a work of charity by the members of the household. He says:

We have here the clue to a method by which all that needs doing for health, for enjoyment, or for charity, may be done on Sunday without any one breaking the fourth commandment. Almost all this necessary work is now done by various classes of hired servants, who, as a rule, are fully employed for six days every week, and who also have not much less to do on the seventh day. To keep the Sabbath, both in the letter and the spirit, these workers must be allowed full and complete rest; they must do none of their special work on that day. All that portion of their weekly duties which is necessary for the well-being of their employers, and for the rational enjoyment of their lives, must be done by those other members of the household who have spent the week largely in idleness or in pleasure, or if in work, in work of a quite different character from that of their servants. In doing this work; in helping each other; in sharing among themselves the various household occupations which during all the week have been undertaken by others; and in doing all this in order that those others may enjoy the full and unbroken rest which their six days' continuous labour requires and deserves, each member of the family will be doing deeds of self-sacrifice and of charity (in however small a degree), and such deeds do not constitute the "work" which is so strictly forbidden on the Sabbath-day.

TRUE DIVINE SERVICE.

In the ordinary middle-class household, where there are six or eight in family and two or three servants, all that is necessary may be easily done, and allow every member of the family to go to church or chapel once or oftener. If it were once really felt that the thing must be done, that on no account must the commandment be broken by servants doing any of their usual work on Sunday, and that the truest and most divine "service" would thus be "performed," all difficulties would vanish, and the day would become, not in name only but truly, a holy one, inasmuch as it would witness in every household deeds of true charity and mercy, because in every case they would involve some amount of personal effort and self-sacrifice.

HOW IT MAY BE ARRANGED.

In the larger establishments of the higher classes there would be no greater difficulty, since it would be easy to effect such a division of labour as to render the work light for each. The son or other relative who was fondest of horses and dogs would of course see after their wants on Sunday; another might undertake the fire-lighting; while the young ladies would prepare the meals and do all other really necessary domestic work. Of course the greater part of the servants thus released from their regular work would also visit their friends, and by giving some little voluntary assistance would

take their part in the great altruistic movement that would characterise the day.

FOR PUBLIC SERVANTS.

Among the more important of these deeds of mercy would be the relief of the nurses in hospitals and asylums, and of the attendants in workhouses and prisons. This would of course imply some general instruction of the young in the principles and practice of nursing, which is much to be desired on other grounds.

In the same way all the national treasures of art and nature in our galleries and museums, our libraries and gardens, might be thrown open to the great body of toilers who can enjoy them at no other time, the place of the week-day guardians of these treasures being taken by volunteers from among the more leisured classes or from the higher ranks of workmen. Of course the police would also be relieved by a body of special constables who would volunteer for the service. This occupation might be restricted to the Volunteer force, whose recognisable uniform and military organisation would render them admirably fitted for the purpose. Further details on this part of the subject are unnecessary, since it is evident that by an extension of the same principle it would be possible to relieve every one whose week-day labour is now extended over some portion of Sunday also.

ITS SOCIAL ADVANTAGES.

Dr. Wallace says that he has thought over this thing for the last twenty years, but that he has only ventured to bring it to light now. The advantages which follow from his suggestions are many :—

The upper classes would learn, many of them for the first time, how great and how fatiguing is the labour daily expended in securing them the unvarying comfort and aesthetic enjoyment of their surroundings, and how often they cause unneces sary work by their thoughtlessness or extravagance. The need they would have, at first, of learning the duties of the particular department they were going to undertake, would bring them into friendly and intimate relations with their servants; and, in seeing how much care was often required to secure the comfort of the family, they might begin to appreciate that "dignity of labour" which is so often preached to the poor but so seldom practised by the rich. To many this "Sunday service" in their own families, or in that of some of their friends, would be the introduction to some serious occupation for their week-day lives, and thus inaugurate the great reform which the more thoughtful leaders of society see to be of imperative necessity.

On the whole body of the workers the effect would be great indeed, since it would at once bring about better relations with the wealthy classes, and especially with those who teach or profess religion. They would see, what they had hitherto doubted or denied, that the religion of the upper classes had some real influence on their lives, by leading them, not merely to give away a portion of their surplus wealth in charity, or to take part in the public proceedings of charitable institutions, but really to sacrifice something which they have hitherto considered necessary to their comfort, in order to obey the laws of that religion. They would further see, everywhere, men and women of culture voluntarily undertaking various public and private duties, in order to allow all kinds of workers to enjoy repose and recreation on one day in seven; and this great object-lesson in brotherhood and sympathy would lead to a general good feeling between all classes. The harmonious relations which would be thus produced may be of inestimable value when the time comes for those radical reforms in our social organisation which are more and more clearly seen to be inevitable in the not distant future.

Personally, I confess I am very much taken with Dr. Wallace's suggestion; but an old and trusted servant whom I consulted shook her head. It would lead, she said, to many servants being turned out on to the streets on Sundays to save their meals, and it would be very hard on the missus.

THE NEW SULTAN OF MOROCCO.

IN Blackwood's Magazine, Mr. W. B. Harris gives an account of what actually happened at the accession of the new Sultan. Half the reports which have been published hitherto, he says, have been purely imaginary. Mr. Harris travelled to the Sultan's camp from Morocco disguised, and was there ten days studying the situation. The march across the desert and over the Atlas seem to have made the Sultan an old man. His army had dwindled to a horde of half-starved men and animals. No sooner had he arrived at his capital than the arrival of the Spanish embassy led him to undertake an expedition against the Riff tribes, but before he reached Rabat he was dead. Mr. Harris says there is no regular custom or law as to the succession. All that is necessary is that the new Sultan should be a relation of the old one, and the advisers and powerful shereefs choose the relative whom they think most suitable to fill the place. The late Sultan had indicated a strong desire to be succeeded by his favourite son.

THE NEW SULTAN'S MOTHER.

Mulai Abdul Aziz is the son of a Circassian wife of Mulai el Hassen, a lady of great intelligence and remarkable ability, who, though no longer in her first youth, was able to maintain to the day of his death a most singular and no doubt beneficial influence over Mulai el Hassen. Her European extraction and her education abroad, her general knowledge of the world, and her opportunities for watching the Court intrigues, rendered her of more service to the late Sultan than any of his viziers. She accompanied him always upon his long and tedious marches, and there can be no doubt that even in his dealings with the European Powers her advice was always asked and generally taken by the Sultan. The affection Mulai el Hassen bestowed upon her was also shared by her son, Mulai Abdul Aziz, who, with the tender anxiety of both an affectionate father and mother, was brought up in a far more satisfactory manner than is general with the sons of Moorish potentates. While his elder brothers were left to run wild and to lead lives of cruelty and vice, Abdul Aziz was the constant companion of his parents, who, both intent that he should one day be Sultan of Morocco, lost no opportunity of educating him. THE SULTAN'S DEATH.

The Sultan died on the afternoon of Wednesday, June 6. Only one of his followers was present, and his son and heir was some eight days distant., If his death were known the army would probably break up, and the. tribes would attack the camp. It was therefore decided to keep the death a strict secret, and carry the corpse on to Rabat as if it had been alive.

A hurried meeting of the viziers was called; an oath of secrecy taken; the drums were beaten for a start to be made; and, to every one's astonishment and surprise, orders were given for a move, the reason affirmed being that the Sultan had sufficiently recovered to travel. The palanquin which always accompanied his Majesty was taken into the enclosure; the Sultan's body was placed within, the doors closed, and, amidst the obeisances and acclamations of the camp, all that remained of Mulai el Hassen set out for Rabat. Not a soul knew of the Sultan's death except the viziers and a few of the slaves and tent-pitchers, whose mouths were sealed, knowing that death would ensue if they told.

The Sultan was a boy, separated from his ministers and viziers by a long distance, in traversing which they ran a great danger of being plundered and murdered. Had such an event occurred, and Mulai Abdul Aziz's supporters been killed, his reign must have terminated at once, for the treasury would have fallen into other hands, and another Sultan been proclaimed. With all possible speed the army marched towards the coast, bearing their now loathsome burden of the Sultan's body with them. There was a terrible mockery in the whole thing-the decomposing corpse borne in royal state

with the Shereefian banners waving before it, with the spear-bearers on either side.

THE ROYAL CORPSE.

An early start was made. The Sultan was carried in the usual position. Tribespeople were allowed to kiss the palanquin, and a halt was made to enable his Majesty to take his breakfast. Food was taken into his tent and brought out again as if it had been tasted by the Sultan. A military band played outside his tent, and all the usual customs were observed as if he had been alive. But the sun was too hot for the deception to be kept for any time, and the following day it was announced that the Sultan was dead. The news fell like a thunderbolt on the camp, which was at once split up into a hundred different parties. Each tribe collected its forces and camped together, while the army proceeded by forced marches to Rabat. A time of terrible suspense followed. When Rabat was made, a hole was made in the town wall, and the Sultan's corpse, which was in such a condition as to render a public funeral impossible, was laid to rest in the mosque. The new Sultan was proclaimed, and there was no insurrection. This was chiefly due to the fact that the harvests had to be gathered in at the time, and the necessity for caring for the fruits of the earth prevented the otherwise inevitable outbreak of domestic feuds. Mr. Harris then describes in detail the events of the following days, prolonging his story until the entry of the new Sultan into Fez on July 21.

What Poor Children Read.

IN the North American Review Mr. Sanborn gives some information as to the literary tastes of the poor children of New York. He had charge of a library of 2,500 books, which is open every evening for half an hour to some 200 children in the neighbourhood. His report as to the relative popularity of books is as follows. Fairy stories were the most popular of all books both with boys and girls. After fairy stories came war books-that is to say, histories of the American Revolution and the American Civil War. He calculates that if they had had an adequate supply of books, 50 per cent. would have been fairy stories, 25 per cent. war books, while all the rest of literature would be confined to the remaining 25 per cent.

Stories of school and home life, manuals of games and sports, funny books, ballads and narrative poems, and adaptations of natural and applied science are received with some degree of interest. The old favourites, "Robinson Crusoe," "Swiss Family Robinson,” “ Arabian Nights," "Tom Brown," "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and "Mother Goose" charm here as everywhere. Of the standard novelists, Cooper, Scott, and Dickens are read, but with no great degree of ardour.

Calls for special books may often be traced to changes of programme at the theatres. Thus a temporary demand was created for "Oliver Twist," "Rip Van Winkle," the "Merchant of Venice," the "Three Musketeers," and even for Tennyson's "Becket." The reason for such other special calls as Erckmann-Chatrian's "Citizen Bonaparte," Hawthorne's "House of the Seven Gables," Scott's "Marmion," the "Lives of Havelock, Clive, Grattan, and Sir Francis Drake," George Eliot's "Daniel Deronda," and Tom Moore's "History of Ireland" can only be surmised.

Mr. Sanborn says that while girls read boys' books eagerly, no boy would think of reading a girls' book. A few boys who could not read took out books as regularly as their neighbours, being determined to be in the swim. One boy was heard advising his younger brother to take out the "Tale of Troy." "Dat's de book you'se wants to git," he said; "dat'll tell yer all about New York an' de Bowery."

THE MARQUIS OF BUTE AND CARDIFF. "THE Man and the Town" is the title of Mr. Dolman's article in the English Illustrated Magazine. It is a copiously illustrated paper describing Cardiff and the Marquis of Bute. Cardiff, which in half a century has sprung up from being a village of 10,000 inhabitants to a town of 130,000, owes its position, says Mr. Dolman, to the wealth, enterprise, and foresight of the present Marquis of Bute, whose fame outside Cardiff rests largely upon his having served as the hero of Lord Beaconsfield's "Lothair." It was his father who decided to invest his fortune in the future of Cardiff, as he had the greatest possible stake in the development of the

coal and iron trade. The present marquis did not come of age until 1875, but he set himself

to following up the work which his father had begun. He built new docks, from which more coal is shipped than from all the ports of the Tyne together, and devoted himself generally to the development of the town. He has served as its mayor, and the castle, with its moat and ancient keep, is one of the most interesting of the local lions. Roath Park has been given by Lord Bute to the town

THE FIRST GREAT NATIONAL LIBRARY IN THE WORLD.

"ASHURBANIPAL: His Books and Buildings" forms the subject of an interesting article, by Mr. Leonard W. King, in the September number of the Illustrated Archæologist. Assyriology, we know, is not a very

as a recreation ground, and three out of the other four recreation grounds of Cardiff were not only given, but were maintained by Lord Bute.

UNDER the title of "M. Zola and His Work," we have an interesting character sketch of M. Zola by M. Henry Lapauze, and a critical study of "Lourdes," by M. Georges Pellissier, in the Revue Encyclopédique of September 1st. Many portraits, caricatures, and other illustrations are included in this Zola number.

were classified according to their kinds. Tablets containing a continuous or connected text were numbered and set apart together, and lists were made of them.

The only remains of the fittings of this library that have come down to us are two of the labels the librarian used. They are preserved in the British Museum. They consist of little oblong pieces of clay, rounded at the corners. On each is inscribed the name of a series of texts-on the one the title of the Great Astrological Work, on the other that of a series of omens.