say, looked anything but dangerous. Poor Suldi, evidently scared by the confusion he had created, limped on slowly and cautiously, stopped now and then, and, whether standing still or moving on, wagged his tail most conciliatingly.

The alarm raised by the fugitives had brought the whole household to the front door, Frantz included. I saw him, at sight of Suldi, strike his forehead with his clenched fist, then withdraw for an instant, and re-appear gun in hand. Suldi no sooner saw the gun, than he galloped away towards the cowhouse. The uncouth figure of Ueli was standing on the threshold; Suldi sprang towards him, put his front paws on his shoulders, and began licking his friend's face. Frantz was upon them in a twinkling.

"Get out of the way," thundered Frantz to Ueli.

"I can't, I won't," cried Ueli. "I'll blow your brains out if you don't," shouted enraged Frantz.

"Do," answered Ueli, coolly, drawing the dog closer to himself.

Frantz was exasperated; nobody can say what might have been the consequences, if Madeleine in tears, some of the boarders, and myself, had not interfered. We succeeded in wringing the gun out of the maddened man's hands, while Madeleine was parleying with Ueli. Ueli had no rebellious intentions. He knew what he had promised, and stuck by it, only he wanted to do it himself, he said, and not there.

"Will you do it, really?" asked Frantz.

"I will."

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Upon your honour?"

"Upon my honour," affirmed the cowman, with a motion of the right hand not wanting in nobility. Upon this understanding Ueli was left alone, and retired with Suldi into the cowhouse. He came out of it almost immediately, looked about him for a few seconds, as if irresolute, then struck across the fields, shunning the avenue. His face was turned to the plain, towards the river. He is going to drown him, thought I; the solemnity with No. 28.-VOL. V.

which Ueli had pledged himself to do it, left no doubt, in my mind, as to his determination. Drowning excluded the necessity of spilling blood, a decisive consideration, in my mind, in favour of that mode of execution; then, he had no weapon about him, that I could see, not even a cudgel.

So long as they were in the grounds of the establishment, Suldi walked thoughtfully and cautiously along, turning occasionally round to see whether they were followed. The consciousness was evidently upon him that he had had a very narrow escape. But, as soon as he had crossed the road and the railway, Suldi became demonstrative, jumping for joy, barking, and barring Ueli's progress. Ueli neither encouraged nor discouraged this display of feeling; he only turned Suldi out of his own way, when necessary, and walked on fast.

We had almost all the breadth of the vale to cross in order to get to the river. It was a treeless valley, as flat as the palm of my hand, all meadows and pastures no possible concealment even for a rabbit. Did Ueli see me following in his wake, or did he not? I don't know. If he saw me, which most likely he did, he made as though he had not. Not once did he turn his head towards me. From the day I had raised my voice in behalf of his protégé, I had won Ueli's heart. Even if Jungfrau Madeleine had not told me so, I should have guessed it from his never passing me without putting on what he believed his best smile, and saluting me by name.

Half-an-hour's forced march took us to the river. It was swollen by the melting of the snow-a mighty, deep, fast-darting river, with ominous eddies in the middle. Ueli sat on its raised bank, and looked down for a moment. Apparently the spot was not deep and rapid enough, for he got up and walked along the path under the stunted old willows, that darkened the water. He presently found what he wanted, and sat down again. Suldi sat down too between Ueli's legs, his head against Ueli's face.

The two friends looked closely at each other for some time; then Ueli spoke.

X

My hiding place, behind a tree, was near enough to hear, unfortunately, without understanding, every word he uttered; but too far to perceive the play of his countenance. The tone of voice was, by turns, chiding, deprecating, and tender. I fancied that he was scolding Suldi for his disobedience, which had brought them both to this pass; that he was explaining and begging pardon for the part of executioner he had assumed, and taking an affectionate farewell of him. A plaintive cry of Suldi, during the chiding period, drew forth from Ueli a passionate outburst of sensibility. It was as if I heard him say-Oh yes, I understand what thou sayest; thy great love of me it was that made thee come back; I know that thou couldst not stand any longer to be separated from thy Ueli. And I, dost thou think that I had an easy time of it? I did nothing but pine and pine in thy absence, but I bore it for thy sake, for thy sake. And, now!

A few seconds of silence and perfect immobility followed the address. Ueli, as I thought, was gathering up his strength. Then a sudden jerk, a cry, and a great splash in the water. Ueli stood alone on the bank, his eyes riveted on the gurgling stream below. Presently Suldi reappeared afloat, at a considerable distance from the place where he had sunk. The mighty current was whirling him down fast. He lifted his head, looked at Ueli, and whined piteously. There was something human in the sound. I could well understand Ueli's distraction at this appeal. Ueli forgot everything, but that Suldi was in danger. His whole soul was now bent on saving him. He hurried along the bank, a little in advance of the dog, calling to, and encouraging him by word and gesture. The poor beast taking heart at this, strove with might and main, though with little success, to get out of the current in the direction of the bank. meantime, spied a little

Ueli, in the Ueli, in the dry indenture

on the level of the river, sprang down into it, and slipped off his smock frock. Suldi's strength was just then well

nigh exhausted; a shout from Ueli revived it for a moment. The dog pushed desperately on for a yard or so, close enough for Ueli to wade into the water up to the chest, and fling the smockfrock within Suldi's reach. He caught at it with his teeth and held on fast; Ueli drew the garment and Suldi with it towards himself. Another moment, and rescued and rescuer lay panting by each other on the little creek.

Ueli's success did not prove unmingled with bitterness; Suldi, as soon as he could move, withdrew from him with distrust. This was Ueli's finishing stroke. He sank under it. He buried his face in his hands, and . . .. I was too far to see whether he wept. Suldi had not the heart to leave his friend long thus. He crawled near to him, sniffed at him, whined, and licked his hands. Ueli opened his arms to Suldi, and kept him long embraced. was his agony of mind during this close embrace, God only knows. I saw him rise on a sudden, raise his hand, and, to my horror, strike a blow--a second, a third, a twentieth, a fiftieth-then fall back at his full length.

What

Ueli's immobility made me uneasy after a time. I crept to the spot; Ueli heard me, got up, and motioned me away with the look of a man who must be obeyed. For once there was no lack of expression in his countenance.

It was the last look I had of him. He came back late at night, as reported by Jungfrau Madeleine, informed Frantz he must go away next day, and in fact left early in the morning.

"How did he look?" I asked.

"Just as he did when you saw him first, and were so much puzzled by his appearance, like a man who takes no thought or interest in anything."

I returned on the morrow to the fatal spot. There was not the least trace of blood, or of the earth around having been dug; but, on going a little farther along the bank, I found, between two willows, indications of a fresh-made grave.

Poor Suldi! poor Ueli !
To be continued.

eyes of the public are once opened to perceive that there is a method by which the most enlightened conscience and the highest intellect of every man in the kingdom may be enlisted in the business and duty of social government, the application of such a method will be demanded by reflecting persons of every condition-by the politician as well as by the divine. The University Act has struck off much of the weight which impeded electoral action in the bodies to which it relates, and it has at the same time done not a little to elevate its tone.

The moral effect of this measure, in lessening the cost, or, indeed, in putting an end to the necessity of any considerable expense in future electoral contests, is of vast importance. "The costliness "of elections," observes Mr. Mill in his "Considerations on Representative Government," ,"" is an advantage to those "who can afford the expense by exclud

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ing a multitude of competitors; and "anything, however noxious, is cherished

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as having a Conservative tendency if "it limits the access to Parliament to

"rich men. This is a rooted feeling

among our legislators of both parties, "and is almost the only point on which "I believe them to be really ill-inten"tioned." "There is scarcely any mode "in which political institutions are more "morally mischievous-work greater "evil through their spirit-than by representing political functions as a "favour to be conferred, a thing which "the depository is to ask for as desiring "it for himself, and even to pay for, as "if it were designed for his pecuniary "benefit. Men are not fond of paying

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gentlemen, none of them previously "observed to be lavish of their money "in projects of disinterested beneficence, vying with one another in the sums "they expend to be enabled to write. "M.P. after their names? Is it likely "he will suppose that it is for his in"terest they incur all this cost? Poli"ticians are fond of treating it as the "dream of enthusiasts, that the elec"toral body will ever be uncorrupt : "truly enough, until they are willing "to become so themselves; for the "electors assuredly will take their moral "tone from the candidates. So long as "the elected member, in any shape or

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manner, pays for his seat, all en"deavours will fail to make the business "of election anything but a selfish bargain on all sides. So long as the "candidate himself, and the customs of "the world, seem to regard the function "of a member of Parliament, less as a "duty to be discharged, than a personal "favour to be solicited, no effort will "avail to implant in an ordinary voter "the feeling that the election of a "member of Parliament is also a matter "of duty, and that he is not at liberty "to bestow his vote on any other con"sideration than that of personal fit"ness."1

The observations of Lord Fortescue, in the debate on the second reading of the Bill, in the House of Lords, deserve the most serious and attentive consideration of all to whom the result of the ephemeral struggles of existing parties is less interesting and important than the permanent stability and grandeur of our institutions. Lord Fortescue expressed his hope that the Bill might be regarded as the precursor of a "sounder legislation, with regard to the "rights of electors." He pointed to the folly and inconsistency of imposing a trust, as the right of voting is, and then putting unnecessary difficulties in the way of its exercise; and he adverted to the dangers of our present system,

1

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"Considerations on Representative Government," chap. x. On the Mode of Voting. 2 See on this point "Considerations on Representative Government," chap. x. p. 191 et seq.

which few will fail to apprehend who can be brought to consider the state of modern society, and compare the facility of combination in the lower class of voters with the immense difficulty, if not impossibility, of any effectual organisation of the wealthy, or the educated, whose political force is now, therefore, generally in the inverse ratio of their mental and moral capacity and value-dangers, which, unless encountered by giving to property and intellect a greater freedom of action-not freedom to bribe and cajole, but free. dom for pure and honourable effort and therewith, higher and better inducements to act, will surely leave them, as elsewhere in like circumstances, degraded and powerless.

The Act, as ultimately passed, consists of six short clauses and a schedule containing the form of the voting-paper. The elector must fill up the paper (which probably will be obtained in a printed shape) with his name, college, and academical rank, the name of the person or persons for whom he votes, and a declaration that he has signed no other votingpaper at such election. He must also, on the same paper, nominate some other person or persons with whom he is acquainted, and who are entitled to vote at the same University election, to deliver his paper at the poll. The voting-paper must be dated after the notice given by the returning officer of the day of election, and it must be signed by the voter in the presence of a justice of the peace, personally known to him, by whom the signature must be attested in the form prescribed.

In the discussions on the Bill, both Mr. Gladstone and Lord Derby described the machinery as less convenient than might have been devised. A provision that the elector may vote in person, after he has signed a voting-paper, and placed it in the hands of his nominee, if he tenders his vote before his voting-paper is tendered, gave rise to some merriment, on the suggestion that the elector might run a race with his own voting-paper. The interposition of an elector as the necessary medium for the delivery of the

voting-paper, is a more clumsy, without being a more secure, process, than the transmission of the voting-paper inclosed in a registered letter to the Vice-Chancellor or returning officer. It might very well happen that an elector residing in a remote district, and many years absent from the University, may, at least, without much preliminary correspondence, be unable to find any other elector with whom he is acquainted, who is certain to attend the election. The regularity and accuracy of the post-office suffice for all the important transactions of commerce; by its means remittances are made, and bills taken up, to the amount of millions daily, at the precise moment that they are due. It is strange that apprehension should be expressed of error or fraud in the simple transmission of the vote at an election, whilst no one hesitates to draw on his banking account, and transmit by post crossed cheques of any amount payable to order. There is no reason why the same credence should not be given to a voting-paper received by the post as to a bank-note or a cheque. Blank voting-papers might be engraved, distinguished by the seals of the several colleges, and issued only to the number that there are voters on the books, and only on the application of each voter; and they might be returned duly attested. A trifling amount of clerical labour under the direction of the Vice-Chancellor or Pro-Vice-Chancellor, would be required to open, arrange, and register the votes on the election day, and the election would be completed with the smallest degrce. of labour, and without any intervention between the elector and the returning officer.