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THE NEW INMATE OF HILFONT. A THU1LMNC. STORY OF OLD ENCLANi* CHAPTER XV. Bertie wan the last to leave u of ou r Christmas party. He lingered on, going up to Mrs. Harley 's little house. I waisomewhat Mist irlied in anticipation about ihfc we: jome they would give Lucy ; but when we came in tight of the pretty little lane, with in r / trim, low holiy-hedge and white paling, to town for a day. and returning aga.n, tor ^ ^ prelty f jttle ^.tiag, .Imnng in ihe early a fortnight after our other guests were , OD .hine, from which Alice, and all the gone. He was a very welcome visitor per- children pursuing her, came running out to hap* th mo*t velcome of all, for Derwent welcome us, I n longer tho-uht of Lucy. . ' Alice could not tell whv I looked so unuxu liked l.i* fr.nk young nature almoit a. a)1 , a( , 10 Me , lcr . Her eve. returned to lly glad me after her tint greeting with a gleam of mingled surprise and expectation, as if they inquired, what had 1 to tell? which gleam recalled me to the consciousness that I had no clew cither to Bertie'* heart or her* : and hid to be careful lett I should startle either of them before their and being at the same time ino.t hone.tly , lim - I '" P*y drawing room, which . . . , _.._.. t .' was not large, but yet mich a* I did, and had contented quite heartily that he should be my heir. Under Bertie'* influence, I was drawn to many places where I teMon thought of going. He was not much of a drawing-room boy. He loved open air and much locomotion i very " nice, and a* bright as a country sitting-room 'hould he, we found Mr*. Harlev and Clara. The widow gave me a tremulous, almost i tearful embrace. She had not *een me lince attached to me, always managed, since he could consent to my habit*, to win me over to a mild travesty of hi*. Whatever I might be to Lucy, 1 was really " a mother' , Claras engagement; and had, of zourse, a to Bertie ; and I dare say the very fact that hundrc( , thiug , lo tty Presently, under 1 wat not old enough to be his moth- 1 pretente of showing me something, I was *r made us like each other all the led away to Mm. Harley's own room, while better, interfusing something of an ! the l.ttle bride came gliding up after us. to learn what I thought of the pretty things elderly n-urliood into the graver relation- j which were , w<innjll( j to .ccumulaie. Sit- ship. Bertie would hive been glad to drive u* about all day long if we coulil have sub- mitted to that doubtful pleasure. He was perpetually persuading me that I had oc- casion to go to Simcnburgh, ami I tear recently suggested ner-es*itien which did not exist, to the uninventive brain of the house- keeper, who wanted a great many more domestic article' only obtainable in the town, than was at all usual with her. And ting in Mrs. Harley '* eaiy-cha,ir, with Clara i a. ". ng about me, and her mother, now bringing something to show me, now paus- ing to talk, now si'-tin^' down to enter into one of those consultations, often gone over and never exhausted which women love, I had alinon forgotten, for the moment, that other match which would have interested me even more than Clara's ; but started with considerable disappointment when Alice, too, camo upstair*, and lingered, evidently preferring our little private com- I. "low. This win a Lucy always formed one of our rarty.som*. j mittee , to lhe """"y . I cieat damper to tny holies. Poor Bertie time* not to my very great content, but ' could not hlp it. was he to lie disappointed ? I became <|uite unhappy and anxHuit about him; while my m->*t worthy iepre*eD'ative nf the name. "It's very kind or you t-> *ay *o. Con*in Clare," said Birtie, blushing red: "but you know, hut for your allowance. I COUKIH '. and you mustn't kei; it up. Now I'm in earneat; you muilu't: I'm not a boy now; 1 mut get on by myl'." "U'hat ha* *fmulated you to sn;d valor ous resolutions, liertie V'said I. At which ijue*tion liertie hesitated Inn- time. "Vou know, Coutm < 'lare," he said at la*t, "I have always talien your money a* heartily a* if you had a right to give it me. You have always been so kind." And the good fellow Hammered and blushed over hii thsnks and did not know wli,- < tay. "But by thin time I ought to >' suit;.. 'ient for myself; and then suppose a fellow should marry. Cousin Olare ?" "Of co-irw it i* uuite natural to suppose that, in sach a caae, h oould live upon halt of hi* usual incoiie,"*aid I. "It's not that," said Kertie. with another blush. "J can't explain my*lf ; but just look here. It occur* natural somehow, to start upon one'* friends ; 1 don't know whether it's right or not, hut it's natural. But to go right into life, and set up a house of one's own, upjn somebody el*V* money, that i* what I can't .and on any considera- tion. And 1 know a fellow can't live on hie pay here. If I went to India I'd have a change ; so that'* what I've made up my mind to do." "For the sake of somebody ?'' 'd L Ki rue laughed, and blushed, snd nodded bis head, but did not seem disposed to communicate further information. "May I not hear who it is?" aked I : "or must I guet* ! I half think I cuuid find you out." "Xot yet, Cousin Clare," cried Bertie And I respected the dxli'-Miy which would not make me the first listener to his love tale. I.ut I ielt entirely satisfied, and ligh-wr at heart than I had been for a loin time ; for who but Alice could be Bertie's sonr.eoody ? They were so like esch other so good, so handso:ne, and no young: and this love wa* but the ripening touch to the kindness of year*. Bertie had alway* been "fond" of Alice ; indce 1, bad been Its* demonstrative of his regard on thu occasion than on any former one ; I supposed it must be the perverae shyneis of a deeper feeling: and in spite of my little dKappomtment ' Cousin Clare," said Bertie, one murning, poor inn. ir A: <.. ui>aw*.re of the ham j yes'e-day, was glad at my hert. let me drive you over to the cottage ;look | he ras doing, Wkvered by the door, ! willing to go away. here, such a morning ! lunih.n* like Juiy, j .. A | jce> Misi Oolton will think u* very and air a* clear as any Italian atmosphere ; rude. My love, you mint go down-stairs," that ever was invented. It's disgraceful to "ai 1 Mrs. Hrl-y. " Of OOU'KO you want. to be with Mrs. I'rntton, but you nimt not leave Miss f'rofton and Mr. Nugeut l.y themselves. Hun, my love, down stairs." "They are not alone, mamma, all tho lounge in the chimney-corner en such a day." " S'inihin* like July, snd iciclet on all ihe trees,'' said I. " My boy, the chimney- corner i* the beat place for me ; I am grow- ing old." "Oh, yes, I know, ' said Bertie "very old; but let as go. Why I want to see them : Clara, tafore she m married, and Mrs. Harley I most be off the day after to- morrow. I ome, CtitiKin Clare !" And Mrs. Hurley a suspicion that Bertie meant somebody else than .Sirs. Har- .'ty softened me at once. " But, Bertie, if I go, Lucy muat go. I cannot leave her by herself," said I, doubt- fully. At which Bertie's face grew rather red. J asked as we we'nt downitair*. "Sir. down, Bertie," said I, "and hear what I have go*, to say to you. M y boy, 1 do not nerd to tell you that 1 have no hfir. ' Bartie looked at me with a great many emotions mingled in his face sympathy, distress, eagerress to assure me that any contingency cf the kind had never entered into his though**. Yet this lait ! than I thought most likely he did not care to have Lucy's iiu:ck eyes upon his visit to his old play-fellows; but he was too kind hear'ed to expreis sny reluctance. " Why not '." he said. " All the better! pray ask her to get ready, and nend me down no end of cloaks to wrap you ail up wr.h. We'll astonish the girln. Mr. Crof- ton, Cousin Clare is going to tho cottage ; will you comn? but I am charioteer." " Not I," said Derwent. " 1 have got something else to do than fly about the country wilh young fellows like you. Don't u|.*;t them, and I'll give you my lileising; but, upon my honor, Clare, I with this Ruardsnun would take himself away," " Theday alter to-morrow, "cried Bertie, laughing. "Cousin Clare would have uo fresh air, I believe, but for me." "I am an ill-used wife; my husband will not gn out with me," laid I. " That novel agtm ! Derwenl, I am ashamed of you ! you grow idler every day !" " I am very lorry," aid my hutband ; "but I wilh you'd tfo about your bu*ine*s, a'l of you. I'm booked fm i.iimrtrr Sessions, snd some pleasant poaching coses to-day. Let us have a quiet half hour before we gel into harness. Lucy, do you take charge ol this roving boy ?" Lucy had just entered the room v ith tier bonnet on, prepared for a walk, as she said, which wo* oddly opportune at lhe moment, and *he went oul with tier lie to stroll about the garden till I ihould be rtady. In alxml half an hour we darted, Derwent, after all hi* grumbling, riding half-way by our (Me. I twos a very line day, thnugh very cold ; and I do not recoiled anything more pleasant, as a wintery sensation than our rapid progress down the hill, with a little wind, fresh, but nol violent, in our fades, and the *un*hine gleaming over all the bar* country, warming the fields, whioh were sll a-ohlll wilh tuwr-froal an hour ago, into a frssh green likx the green of spring, melt- ing off the ice till it dropped in great heavy drop* from trees and housetops, and unsealing little pool* through all the marshy flat belcw, whioh were opaque enough lliia morning, bin now reflected back lhe merry light, and crisped under the wind, till nig In and Irosl should bind them last again. We had a long drive ; bul Bertie's pleasant society, ana lhe still more pleasant thought thai his desire to visit the cottage ihowed well for (he sucuess of my own solitary project of match making, made it a very agreeable one to me. Rerti* wa* in grest piritn. He was continually pointing out to Lucy the Lett atpecu of the landscape, an I l.allenging hrr lo confeu that Knglaml, in its most Kngliih a|ifct, wa* not to lie eijutllt'il by any of i In. boasted lieanties of the further world. He once carried Ins argument so far that I checked him gently, thinking *h* might feel it t little. But Lacy, I am bouud to con fin, made hirtelf very pleaant, tnd bore th* assault with ex- treme good humor. Thus we cam* pleasant ly are nor alone, mainnia, children" are with them," said Alice, rather I i'he'ot'heVi-'for'it wao me my good Bertie discontentedly : ami as Clara volunteered thought of not htnuelf. to take her pUce, the perverse girl etab- .. A year , RO iai ,i J, .-J might not have lishe.l herielf at my elbow, and would not ( thought myself justified in .aymg thi.; but move. I immediately loat my relish for | it con toles"nie lo feel how heartily 1 can the gossip, and l.y hnd by we went down , trull lhe inheritance of your father, in your to luncheon, to my treat content. I wa* , h.njU. Bertie of all the Nugent*, you are .jii ite overcast in my pleasure. I had been the on i y oue wnom j nave any f \tore in rather too secure in my calculations a* far | thinking oi as the heir." a* Alice was concerned, assuring myself , Bertie'* fa.-e ,-rew red, grew white, grew that she had seen nolHidy else, and that ahe Mn , m ed. He wanted lo lay something, must like Kertie; but how could I tell ? I' an d dared not. "Sol me." he crisdat last never heard, until I heard of their engage- I wilh m p i unr e. "Not ir.! you mmt not mcnt, that little Cbra Harley had ever think of it; i^-'f will be other heir*." een Hugh Sedgtwick. Another Hugh | "Hmh," *-id I. gravely. "I :nean and Sedgewick might, for aught I knew, be h V e meant for .1 long lime, that you should hovering about the cottage now. , naVB [.^tc.,,,,,., |{ ert ,,. I ,!,ould not have "\\hydid you 1-ave mem. Ah.-"?" I j sjstntfatjsjel th-i poiition in which you now I'oor I-rtie r | t .it \owdonotmisunderstand affections with me. S,i the more 1 pandered the more I was satisfied ; and being a pract cal perion, even in iinagii.alinn, as I rathri think most women are, I nad already glanosd over the courtah.p, lie m rr a v 'e, me ttir yonthfol life of the jountr ""( 'e, and thf preparations whi:h a 1 gfew oi. I, I m-i<i( to make at Kitciiirt !r tte:r reception, before the entri.n.M of l)-rwen' K'ar'.Ud me from my dreams. My husband cam' in smiling, yet looting mrpriil, wri'c'i surprise increased "till mini whn he per- ceived that there were tears in my eye*. "I met Bertie ;'ust now, half crazy ith pleasure. You have lieen t-ll'!i hmi your intention*, Clare," *iit Derweni; "rat, my love, what are these tearoabu.r. ? Are you not. pleased now that you have ha i your wi;i ?" "r'erfeclly pleased," said I ; "tears con e through very dilerent chtuntU; they thrust, themselves into every argument, you know, wilh u poar womsn. " "Hum ! " said Uirwe.it, "you i:ave been tHnkinir. I ui> uot liave you t)nak, Clare. After all, we have a great many Meming*. Why should you and 1 grumbio ? 1 had rather uave thee, my pale Clare, '.ha'i seven sons '." " Don't, Derwent ! "Icriedou\ "Don't! I can not hear it ! ' and therewithal, sur- prised into a audiUn weakness, my grief sie/el upon me as he bad never seen n be- fore. He was very much troubled and per- plexed ; he did not understand it : he com- forted me laving that lie did not know I I bad tar en it so much to heart, and said I iime'.hiDg in his innocence abou'. the baby, I which, < > 1 help me, the familiar name I 1 never dared mention to myself, struck me with a pang whicii was beyond bearing. It dried my tears. I could n it cry any longer with that sudden sir Me tingling through my heart. And my good Derwent caretxJ and oothed me. He though he had doue me good by (peaking. I inns', not let you keep all this lo yourself any longer, " he aid "Open your hear*, to m;, <.' a-o, and u will do you good. I* uo*. m* my grief as well as yours ?'' And so i'- was ; hut no m*n in the world could hearken panent.'y to '.hi iteration* of a mother who has lost, her child. 1 felt that, and said no more. And you are pleaned tint I hire spoken to Bertie ? ' said I. "','uite pleated that you have done your will,' 1 said Uerwent, with a smilt, " and heartily desirous you should rind pleasure in It, my lo\e, slili I m lit say, Oar.;,! think it rather harsh. Who car. '.ell what may happen in these years ?" 1 was vexed by the suggestion, and W2nt away, leaving linn to go to a little retire- 1 ment I had a little room I only entered when I had to compose myself, and wanted the calm that only come* irom tne pretence of God- (TO I.K COSTIM'ED.) DEATHS BY VIOLENCE, HOW EUROPEAN COUNTRIES COM- PARE WITH AMERICA. THE QUEEN'J NEW RELATIVE. N rlr it'l' 'l-rlil Third o I be Itironr Keniavr al Ihr came over on purpose lo say good-bye. It wa* ungrateful to come awav." When, to my surprise, Alice not only blushed a little, but looked the least thing | angry. "Mr. Nugent wan occupied he did not miss me," she paid, with a great 1 deal of dignity, Inn would nol v! I a word ' of explanation. What did .Me ma i.; I was ' ,t n best you should know, I completely P u7.7leit. Certainly Kertie was w ,n nol ^.veyou E*tiurt hen youn arry. not anxiou.to.ee Mr*. Harley. and if it for you know what Kftcourt i., and I mu.t wa. not Alice he came for. who else could not give upmy re.t.oasibilitie*;butyou.hall me, 1 have ihou.-tir. o! this since I first knew you. You have been the heir of Kitcourt in my eyei for many yean. 1 ' "Tnat wat before you were married, Cousin I'lare, 'aaid Bertie i|uiukly. "Being married has not made any differ- ence," said I; "and as you are at a crisis of your lift will not it he ? Itenieva* very merry among the child it give up my responsibilities; but y have the hall of the yearly income tnd the hou*e at. Kaithorne, near the rectory, ami when we went into the dining-room. ! ttla |, mana|re the e*tate for me, Bertie, and 1 hey were all very familiar wilh him, and i t* acknowledged publicly a* my heir, and .-ailed him by hi Christian name, a friendly .no,...,,,, the sair.e"-.nd 1 confei* 1 said practice which Alice and Clara, in the reseive of their opening womanhood, had almost given up. Lucy sat smiling and pretty by Mrs. Harley. I could hear that.he was making in perron her nfler of nrvice, that the widow took it very kindly, but that Clara, on being uppealed to, laid nothing, at which Lury imiled wilh an thi* wilh a falter "the tame as if vou were my son." I do not know why it wa*; but looking in my face, which was full of emotion, and perhaps seeing there some traces of that secret sorrow which nobody thought of nowaday*. Bertie teir'd my haodi, and actually shed tear* over them, saying I cannot tell what incoherent things in hi* excitement, ami I fear I cried too. An. I somehow, out of hii young joy ami hope, b'"h of u* fell back, with a sharp pang nf moih7whrohVhowe'v,"Mr71lUri'eyMk <" >ntr "'. to , tn , ih j ow < y '' : ; a-mother. do, withgreat pretended di.may. h " . B" ! "d sHeclionate regard I J w 1 1 r i t IT i ti < r iut much secret prnle ; while Alice and Clara botli looked on, sometimes exchanging glances, and keeping up an unwavering and jealous watch upon the movement* of the :n"ni. But it was evident that they had lint told their mother a piece of reserve whn-h some what anoniihed me: for though Mrs. Harley was rather a wavering, doubt. ful, and undecided pernon, she had a true mother's place in her children's hearts. air of iiiperinrity and ' protection. Then Lucy began to be confidential wilh Mr*. Harley. I count hear nmething about so young so irery young '. with a glano* at Clara, ss if she hernelf were as old as Clara'* Kut when we returned home, my sanguine satisfaction was gone. 1 ran not say I tound an unrevealed love on Alice's part, but she parted with Bertie with a mixture of pique and indilforence which surprised me. It did not trouble Bertie he was just as gay, jnut ss eager to entangle Lucy in fresh arguments. The evening war as fine as the morning had bnen, ami the winter sunset, red and aplendid, emblazoned all the sky U- fort- us as we went home. Yet I went home, languidly, growing silent, returning, as I always did al any diannirigement, lo that, one familiar grief whijh nee. led little Invitation to come l>tck to my thought*. Yet I n.nl, I not tell what disturbed me the vague diMappointment of ^ vague ex- pectation nothing more. CHAl'TKR XVI. Next day Bertie and I had a long conver- sation in the library. He Iwgan by confid- ing to me hi* determination to exchange into a marching regiment, and if possible, lo get to India. 1 was much surprised by this unlnoked for fancy, perversely opposite in such a young gush of impatient regret that. I had not al! I wsn'ed to make me happy, that I dare say Bertie would have shouted with joy to hear that, instead of )nMng heirleas, I had a do/en children, and Kstoourt a* loat to him forever. Bui that, of course wa* only fur a momenr. Then came hi* honest deligh'.,his reluctance, hi* Amazement: for I believe, boy bad never thought of it indeed, the before; and at it *emed to his former 'You me. I to dinllkn India, and Indian service. thought*. the thought of you tor uotteii hnw yon spoke lo meat Haul I, "when yaur father wikhed you to go In \il.iim-onilm?" 'Yes, tobe sure. 1 was only a boy then; but you know a fellow must live," said Bertie, energetically. "A fellow doe* live, and very much to the putpcte, it appears to me," tid I, UMII ing with pleasure at my young kinsman, who wa* a handtomo young Nugent, and above all, thai deepent ami most pervading <|Ualiricalion, that I thought him the moat worthy representative ol the Nugenu. Jt is no small matter to ba raited at once to the head ol one'* house ; and perhtp* Bertie thought, with a sen*ation of triumph, what all the un .'lei and cousin* would lay to thi* most unlooked for promotion. "I'm not even Ihe eldest son of our family,' cried Bertie with an involuntary outburst of wondering exultation and after he had exhausted himself of words, whioh wa* not hard to do, he went off out ol dnor* and left me, to exhaust, if he could, the wonder and triumph which were itill too great 10 bear (peaking of. The second ion of a lieutenani-coloiiel in India, whom Provid- ence had Melted with tixteen children, it war no very wonderful thing it Bertie wat a little out ol hi* wit* when ho wa* firsl made awarelhat Kitcourt wa* to be hi*. After he wa* gono, I *al pondering over thi* future so suddenly opened In my imagination. No -liildof mine ihould ever fill my father 1 ! place; but when ; thought of Katcourt restored at my death lo the Nugent*, an I nf Alice Harlev 'a dear face uliining them in the samp rooms which had iheltered her o'uldhno.l, my heart warmed :o the thought. Perhaps the two would cherish my recollection more dnsrly, ami ho'.d my liking* in greater reverence than even my own children might have di m-: for they were nearer to me in ag*. ami had been my companion* on a greater <|uality than n by nature exist between mother and child. 1 icarcely think even Alice'* mother could love her belter than 1 did; and Bertie had no mother to ir.ar* hit Thi London Daily News make* the fol. lowing interesting remarks on the birth of a (onto the Djchen of York: Tne <j>ien'* relationship to the newly born child is one that would be notable in any family. The remotest and nearev, links of a chain of four generation! are always family heroines and heroes. The story of the great grand- ; mother hurrying up from the north of Scot . land to be near the scene of her great grandchild's birth, and to be the first to end her greeting, would not have been known to all the world had slit not been a ijueen. There is al*o, however, in the birth at White Lodge a p* -ial element of interest that is entirely supplied by ihe rank of tne 'little stranger. It will probably tax the ; delver* into hittory to find another sever- ! eign who, like our tauten, ha* lived to see ihe heir-apparent to her throne al the third remo.e. A* event* proved the three sue cessor* af (isorge III. were all alive in hi lifetime, but he could nol have regarded them as hi* luccessors. (teorge II. in 17oO, might have supposed he saw in his son, Frederick, Prince of Wales, and in Ins ' grandson, hi. probable two successors, ! though the death of his ton in the following year was lo disappoint that expectation. j lieorg* I before his death in 1727 could look upon Oorpe II and one who was then likely lo become I ieorge III. Q leen Victoria ha* the much more remarkable privilege of looking at the tame lime upon three de- cendanl* in ihe direct line. This i* not the only respect in which her poiition i* ; probably unique among the sovereigns of hiitory. A* tier country has been called the mother of parliaments, *o (he may be called the mother of lovereigni. Her children and her children's children are l>ecotr.iiig the kings and princes of Kurop*. Her grandson is the Uerman Kmperor, and the ramifications of her family tnroughout tbe foreign dynasties can now hardly be traced, except t.y the patience ot ihe pro- fessional genealogist, li ii interesting to remember that the babe liorn on Saturday will be able to trace bis descent ftom (ieorge III. by a double line, he is even nearer to that King on hit mother'* tide than on hi* father'* the Uuke of York bem; fourth in descent, while the 1'rincess Ma) is only third. Th* Princes* of Wales, ami Ihe Q een cousin, ihe othei grandmother to the baby at Wait* Lodge, a* well a* both grandfatheri, will assuredly no' be forgotten in the popular congratulations o! the hoar. The Male Seal and It > Family. "Among the many singular train ol character possessed by seals, "laid a retired I tea captain, "none is more striking than j the devotion of the male lo its offspring, i contrasted with th* apathetic attention pai I by the mother. The latter will at th least alarm bolt away into the siaand leave her babii's behind her, but the bqlls mount guard over lh swarming herdt of young ami nothing can exceed their devotion tnd courage when called upon as prntt ii.ri. The sense of imell pomessrd by the seals is very strong and will invariably wake them o i 1 of a sound s'.evn, even if you come u punt he'ii ever no quietly to the windward, and you will alarm them in this way much more tboraughly, though you be half a mil* distant, than if you came up earnestly from the leewaid and even walked in among them, they * Mining lo feel that yon are not different from one of i! rir own tpecie* unlill they smell you." *lr'rtr., llm!<-l<l- lion. I l^nrr-l In III I >!!> i rl>on t ! Katrxifl'urrlsll M .1. . Kcnnnrt. . In I'll I 11: .11 . . ImmllMli. of Im n.i Hi' \MIII ! iri. li . .1 i.r. ii i:. i-.iril Maker. Vr:"iis *.exu re ac:epted among st'i- dent* an-1 thinker* in proof of hi$h civiliz- ation, tome favoring the ratio of illiteracy som the high average of the rate of wage* some the urplvs savings appiiabic to pur- chalet of luxury, some the national expen. ditures for e 1 icition, some the volume of mercantile traniactioui, and others, again, the artif.ic development of the various countriei. But one uniform, supreme, and unchangeable lst of civilization n furniihed in the estimate, p'lt upon Ivman life, and probably there if, after all, no better, fairer, and more satisfactory teit. One may take in their order, suicides, homicide*, accident*, and execution* to ar- rive at, an accurate conclusion on thi* point. ! In respect of nuicide*. Denmark, among civilized countries, stand* at the head, or : more properly at the foot, of the lit with an annual rate of 23 per 100,1(0 I inti.tb.UnU. Auitria follows with 21, Switzerland with ; JO, France with U, Germany with 14, , Sweden with s, Belgium wi'.h 7, Hungary o, ricotland 4, Italy 3, Holland :?, United Stale*:!, Russia -', Ireland 1, and Spain 1. TUB REroiLK OF IIOVI>']Ii In the record of homicides the annual average i* higher in the kingdom of luly than elsewhere, being -J94 to 10.IJOO deaths, a very high figure. J-pain follow* with its, the United State* wnii -1.'., Swti/erland ' with 138, IreUq.i and .V-is'.rn with SSe*ch, France and Ruma with V) each, Sweden with 7.1, England with?-, and (ivrmany ' with 61. It is a somewhat interesting fact that the ratio of suicide* to the population i* ht^n- j est in those countriei in which murder* are tew and lowed in those countries in which murder* are many. It would *eem as if those inclined to lake their own iives were ' reluctant to seek the lives of others and ' those who were reckless in their estimate , of the value oi the lives of otners were | scrupulous in protecting and preserving I their own. ihe extentioo of machinery for manufac- turing purposes and the rapid utili.'ation of electricity for motive power and fur par- po*s of illumination has largely increased in all progreasive coonlrie* the ratio of ac- I cident*. At the present time these are the average ration of the number of accidental j deaths to 10,000 annual deaths front ail can-el in the countries named : Kogland and S -otland, SO ; Ireland. IS Frarce, 15 : tiermany, 10 ; Russia, u; Aiutria , 10; Italy, 5 ; Switzerland, 2<i ; Spain, 7 ; Denmaik, 1'J; ' ( and the United State*, 441. To the U'imher of paueugers earned the | ratio of railroad accident* i* greatest in the , United States, and other cnuntrk-i thn* follow in the order named : Ruuia, It*ly, Spain, France, Germany, Belgium, Eng- land and Switzerland. I.TRICITV' VICTIMS. The accidents attributable to contact in any form with the electric current are most numerous in ths United States and public experience in this regard i' very similar to what tint followed the introduction of team as a power of tracticn. With im- provement*, suggested by the practical operation of railroad* and by iitiii/m.- new agencies a* lifeguard*, the number of rail- road accident* ha* been ubetuniially decreased of lain years, just as the pre*ont htgn rate of accidents from overhevl wire* will, probably, a few year* hence be much le* then it is now. There is much variance between the figures of executions officially supplied by somu governments and the actual number of such execution*, some govern- ments adding the re-urn of lynching* and others Hiving " ly figures derived from court-mart ialship*. In the United state* capital puniihment is inri cted in nearly every state under the authority of the sheriil of the particular county in which the crinm. for which it is * penalty, was committed. There are 4,000 counties in the United Stale*, and coiite* quently 4,000 sheriffs, exclusive ol the self oousutiiie'i mobs of laasked intivi.lual* who in certain district* of the soulii and we*t usurp, from time to time, the sherilTa dutie* and prerogatives. In nevenl European countriei capital punishment ha* been explicitly repealed by law, an 1 the same i* true of three states in th:* country, /to accurate figure*, there- fore, cur. I*' given on lhe*ubjecl of execu- tion* except such ai are based upon the numlwr of murder*, puni*hment for which i* highest ii> Franco and England aad lowe*t in Italy and the United State*. Hut the faet is rot to be forgotten that the proportion of foreign-born resident* it greater in the United State* than in any European country, and that the number of foreign-born criminal* in the United State* is abnormally large, and tends unjustly to augment in nearly every case the ratio of the Unite i States. If fro'ti'.hert/ures riven .in equation could he established it would be found that human life i* he!d in higheit estimate in France, followed by the eastern part of the I'nitrd Statex, England, Germany, HollanJ, and Norway, in the order named. Charming: People. There i* a personal cleanliness that, with taste in dre and grace in manner, rival* and often outshines beauty. Trifle*, !ike gloisy hair, white teeth, well-kept hands, a smooth skin, redolent of health, iweet breath, fresh linen and spoiled garment*, go a long way toward making up the *um of pernonai attractiveness. All clean peo- ple are charming, but charming people are never more charming thin when they .in- radiant with good grooming. It i* 'some expeote but avt* a great deal of trouble to be habitually and exquisitely neat. It payi, though, immensely.