scarcely be found a more helpless and unprotected household. In his daughter's condition, too, he knew that any sudden shock might have fatal consequences. This last thought decided him, and before long a letter was written to Canon Ashton, and Joe, the carter's boy, was started off on horseback to Mere, grinning with excitement at the unusual event.

Farmer Yeatman watched him out of sight, and was then slowly walking back towards the house, when whom should he meet but his nephew, Augustus Jephson, whose very existence he had at that moment forgotten.

It was not a welcome sight, and he would have turned away with a hasty nod, but the younger man was troubled by no modest scruples. He had simply acted according to his nature in avoiding all discomfort and danger on the previous night, and it never entered his head to suppose that such conduct would be condemned. If he had known how thoroughly his host despised him, even he, with all his presumption, would scarcely have cared to meet him just then.

Good morning, Uncle Yeatman,' he began. Bad job this accident of Dinah's, but I hope it's not so bad as they say. Doctors always do make the worst of such things. Anyhow, I can't tell you how sorry I am about it.'

'No thanks to thee, and thy help, if she war'nt killed outright,” was the stern answer.

'Only just this, uncle, that I didn't happen to be there; and really, for the life of me, I can't see what business Dinah had to be out at such a time of night. Well,' he added, with a complacent smile, 'I hope I shall soon have a right to take better care of her than that!'

This was more than mortal patience could bear, and there was no mistaking the tone of Farmer Yeatman's reply.

'I'll tell'ee what, young man. I'll warrant that my girl will never have another word to say to thee, and right glad I be of it. If ye don't take shame to yourself, I'll just give'ee a bit of my mind. Why I wouldn't be such a coward as you-no, not for untold money! and it's a marvel to me how you dare show your face.'

With these words he turned abruptly away, for he felt that his anger was getting beyond all control.

6

Augustus Jephson stood still for a moment in utter dismay. Such words, and addressed to him, were beyond his comprehension. What had he done to be treated in this way? Well, well,' thought he, 'folks were unreasonable sometimes. No doubt his uncle would soon be sorry for those hasty words, and all would come right in the end. He would wait on at Stoke Melford till the afternoon, when the storm would be pretty sure to have blown over, and then he might make peace with the good man and borrow his dog-cart to drive back to Mere.' Thus consoling himself in his discomfiture, he strolled on towards the garden and calmly lighted his pipe.

Time passed on, and Augustus Jephson began to be very weary of this taste of country life. Never had a morning seemed to him so long and dreary; he thought it would never come to an end.

It must have been nearly one o'clock, when at length he wandered round the farm-buildings, half resolved to go indoors and see if there

was any dinner going on. He was standing by the shed where the new threshing-machine was kept, when he was startled by a distant sound as of many footsteps. He looked over the low wall, and presently could see plainly that a number of men were coming up towards the farm. They seemed to walk in some kind of order, all close together and with a steady, quick tread; but what perhaps alarmed him more than anything, was that they were advancing in

silence. It was as though they were bent on some grim purpose too solemn and important to allow of wasting any words on the way.

Young Jephson's first thought was for himself, as it was natural to such a character. What could the men want? What were they come for? He had not the least idea: but of this he felt certain, his own precious self might be in danger, and he must make his escape somewhere. Would it be possible to run to the house? No; for to do so he should have to cross the yard and an exposed

piece of road, where he was sure to be seen, for the men had now nearly reached the gate.

In his nervous fright he rushed into the great cart-shed, and hid himself as quickly as possible in one corner, behind some empty casks. It never occurred to him to warn his friends at the farm, or to take any steps to defend them from the danger which might threaten them. But, as we already know, Augustus Jephson was not cast in heroic mould.

He had hardly scrambled into his hiding-place, close behind the threshing-machine, when, to his horror and dismay, he heard the footsteps rapidly approaching the very place which he had chosen for his

retreat.

On they came,-tramping heavily with their hob-nailed boots, till it seemed to him that the whole crowd must have pressed into the shed. With trembling anxiety he looked through a chink, and saw that these labourers, as they appeared, in their rough working clothes, were all armed with thick sticks, and he thought he could distinguish one or two guns amongst them. There was a sullen, almost savage expression on their faces, and young Jephson drew back and tried to hold his breath, lest the slightest movement should cause his discovery. "That's he that's he! Drag he out in the light o' day, and smash he!'

Such was the awful cry which greeted his ears, and seemed to make his very blood run cold.

'Ay, lads! us won't let un go agen-us'll make short work o' he this time!'

These words, spoken by one who came forward as though he were the leader, met with full approval from the others, who rushed forward with shouts and groans.

The wretched coward closed his eyes and crouched down in his corner, expecting every moment to be torn limb from limb. But after awhile, as nothing happened to him, he took breath and courage to look up, and saw that it was the threshing-machine which was the object of the men's wrath.

They had now dragged it to the front of the barn; and from the sound of violent blows which he heard, they seemed to be beginning the threatened work of destruction. But he was still trembling in every limb, and could scarcely realise his unlooked-for escape, when suddenly a loud ringing voice was heard above the tumult.

"Eh, masters! What be ye up to now? If so be as ye've got a grudge agen our farmer, come and speak up like men, and don't be led on to a shabby trick like this-destroying folk's property, which ye'll repent of, sure enough.'

'It won't be thy preaching, Amos Ridley, as'll turn we aside from our work this day, so don't 'ee think it,' replied the thin, sallow man, who had already come forward as a leader. 'We've a been trampled down i' the dirt long enough by they as calls they sells maasters; but now our turn be come, and we'll teach 'em a lesson as they'll not forget in a hurry. Come on, lads! ye won't let this ere new wooden invention of mischief rob ye of honest work and honest wages!'

So saying he struck another violent blow at the machine.

Nay, Luke Barnett!' exclaimed the young blacksmith, advancing to the front. It's a cowardly deed thee be after; and I'll say it to thy face-deny it who can! Why, here you be, a gang of strong men, come to attack a farm, when you know there be nought to face you but an old man and some helpless women! And what for, I'd like to know? Why, some ignorant spite agen the new machines, which save time and labour, and make our bread cheaper in the end. A poor story of wages,-this day's work 'll find you all! Take my advice, friends: go home and talk it over quietly.'

Amos Ridley was well known to most of the men, who had chiefly collected from the neighbouring village; when he had thus gained a hearing by his bold promptness, he was listened to with attention, and his words were evidently not without weight.

But Luke noticed his rival's influence with alarmed jealousy, and strained every effort to rouse the passions of his followers. He urged them to assert their rights as Englishmen-free-born men, who would be living with their families in ease and plenty, but for the selfish greed of landlord and farmer. They must rise against these oppressors, and not be trampled upon any longer. He wound up his harangue by bidding them lose no more time about that job, as they had a good day's work before them elsewhere.

The appeal was successful; for the men,- -an ignorant, undisciplined crowd, who were driven from one side to another like a flock of sheep, were far more open to evil influence than good. In a few minutes later there would have been nothing left of the ill-fated threshing-machine but a heap of shattered fragments, had not Amos Ridley pressed forwards with a desperate effort, and springing upon the machine itself, raised his massive bar of iron with a threatening gesture.

Stand back, all of you!' he cried, in a loud, clear voice, which was heard above all the noise and confusion. The first who dares to

touch this pays for it with his life !'

There was a moment's pause of startled surprise, and for a brief space it almost seemed as if the heroic audacity of one man would be able to stem the torrent. But it was only for a moment. While the men still looked at each other, full of the involuntary respect which is so often called forth by a striking act of personal courage, a mocking laugh was heard from one amongst them, and the spell was broken.

(To be continued.)

A MAN.

HE longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference between men-between the feeble and the powerful-the great and the insignificant, is energyinvincible determination : a purpose once formed, and then death or victory. That quality can do anything that can be done in this world, and no talents, no circumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature a man without it.

SIR FOWELL BUXTON.

HE consecration of Bishop Walsham How to be the Suffragan Bishop of Bedford, in connexion with the See of London, suggests the following short account of Suffragan Bishops

as far as the Church of England is concerned. Professor Stubbs informs us, in his Registrum Sacrum Anglicanum, that Suffragan Bishops were consecrated for the Saxon Archbishops with or without promise of succession to their Sees. The Bishops of St. Martin's, near Canterbury, were generally Suffragans without prospect of succession. One of them, however, Eadsige, consecrated Bishop of St. Martin's, became Archbishop of Canterbury in A.D. 1038; and Siward of Upsal, Abbot of Abingdon, was consecrated a Suffragan of Canterbury in A.D. 1044 by Archbishop Eadsige, with prospect of succession, but died in A.D. 1048. After the Conquest, Bishops bearing foreign titles were employed on occasional duties in England, and others were consecrated for the special relief of aged Bishops and overgrown dioceses. Thus Geoffrey, Archbishop of Edessa (alias Rages in Media), was in A.D. 1286 Suffragan to the Bishop of Norwich; and in 1310, Augustine, Bishop of Laodicea, was Suffragan of York. From the beginning of the fourteenth century to the time of Henry VIII., there seems to have been a regular succession of Suffragans in most dioceses. It seems, also, at this time to have been a common custom for Irish Bishops to act as Suffragans in English Sees.

By the 26 Henry VIII. c. 14, which is still in force, the office of Suffragan Bishop was granted a specific place in the British Constitution. The chief portions of this Act which bear upon the office as now held in the Church of England are as follows:

'Forasmuch as no provision hitherto hath been made for suffragans, which have been accustomed to be had within this realm, for the more speedy administration of the sacraments, and other good, wholesome, and devout things and laudable ceremonies, to the increase of God's honour, and for the commodity of good and devout people, it is enacted that the towns of Thetford, Ipswich, Colchester, Dover, Guildford, Southampton, Taunton, Shaftesbury, Molton, Marlborough, Bedford, Leicester, Gloucester, Shrewsbury, Bristow,* Penrith, Bridgewater, Nottingham, Grantham, Hull, Huntingdon, Cambridge, and the towns of Pereth, and Berwick St. Germains, in Cornwall, and the Isle of Wight, shall be taken and accepted for sees of Bishops' Suffragans.'

And then follow directions as to the appointment of Suffragans by the joint action of the Bishops requiring assistance and the Crown:

And 'every Archbishop and Bishop being disposed to have any Suffragan shall name two honest and discreet spiritual persons, being learned and of good conversation, and present them to the King, by writing under their seals, making humble request to his majesty to give to one such of the said two persons as shall please his majesty such title, name, style, and dignity of Bishop of such of the sees above specified as he shall think most convenient. And the King, upon such presentation, shall have power to give him the style, title, and name of a Bishop of such of the sees aforesaid as he shall think convenient; so it be within the province whereof the Bishop that doth name him is, and he shall be called Bishop Suffragan of the same see.