As a fact, the small phalanx of Conservatives there, have, with one exception, consistently raised a cry against the extravagant expenditure, (as they naturally deem it), involved in works of such a character, that the material return is not immediate, and does not lie on the surface. And, in this connection, it is a curious fact that the only two determined opponents to the acquisition of the gas works-the profits from which have so largely helped to keep down the rates,—were two of the present leaders of that section of the Conservative party, which is identified with the local Conservative organization. The one exception above referred to, need I say, is that of Mr. Alderman Avery, whose name I mention, because it will most likely suggest itself to my readers, as one that naturally opposes itself to my theory. This gentleman, must however, consent to stand for the exception that proves the rule, since by whatever name he may choose to call himself, judged by his actions he is no Conservative, having ever consistently supported a policy, based upon Liberal principles of the most thoroughgoing type.

I claim therefore that the action of the Birmingham Liberal Association in undertaking the nomination of Candidates for our Local Parliament, is one entirely within its sphere, and is based upon an intelligent appreciation, of the far-reaching importance of those principles it is formed to bring into operation. But besides this, another very important result has been brought about by its action in this matter. These nominations have been lifted out of the hands of private and irresponsible cliques, which represented private interests, and have been undertaken by responsible representative bodies, whose only aim has been to induce the best men they could find to become their candidates. Formerly this was nobody's business, and therefore was frequently undertaken by thoroughly unfit persons, often by the habitués of some particular tavern, with the result not only that incompetent men were selected, but that their characteristics were such as to tend to degrade municipal institutions. Under the wise system of nominations by the Liberal Ward Committees, men, always of character, generally of good business capacity, and a thorough appreciation of the importance of principle have been selected, with the result that the tone and character of the Council has been materially raised, and with the equally important result, that so large a proportion of sturdy adherents to Liberal principles have been elected, as to secure the carrying out of great reforms, and marked improvements, which could only have been brought to a successful issue, by means of a practical unanimity of aim and sentiment amongst its members.

SENEX.

A CENTRAL LITERARY WATER PARTY.

WERE we compelled to name the Public Official least of all amenable to Public Opinion;-invidious though the task might seem through the multitude of candidates ;-there can be little doubt that our choice would fall upon the Clerk of the Weather Office. In countries long accustomed to the tyrannic rule of an absolute monarchy, such as India, Africa, and certain portions of Europe, he is reported to have acquiesced in the circumstances of his position, and to have become what is euphuistically known as "a friend of order"; highly methodical, and totally uninteresting. In free and happy England, however, he seems to appreciate to the full the sweets of freedom, and not only enjoys his own full share of liberty, but is a perfect adept at taking liberties with other people. No one's proceedings are chronicled with more minuteness, or canvassed with more freedom. Special correspondents are deputed to watch his movements here, there, and everywhere;-the leading journals vie with each other in the care with which they compile his daily court circular;-his every step is registered, photographed, averaged, and tabulated with scientific accuracy. The net result of all this investigation may be profitable, but is assuredly not prophetic; and it is painful to be compelled to admit that while it is open to anyone to obtain a correct portrait of him as he appeared yesterday; none can hazard more than a vague guess as to what he will look like to-morrow.

It is to this official, whose bland indifference to popular indignation might qualify him for an elevated position even in Her Majesty's High Court of Chancery, that the Central Literary Association stands indebted for an excursion, very pleasant in the anticipation, very awkward in the consummation, and very ludicrous in the recollection.

The morning had been threatening and uncertain, and it rained fitfully as we approached Coventry by train. Awaiting us at the station was the heterogeneous assemblage of vehicles customary upon occasions when a large number of visitors have to be moved simultaneously;—a kind of scratch pack in which everything is possible, from a Post Chaise to a Furniture Van. In the present instance one vast and cavernous looking caravan was covered, and the rest, unfortunately, were not. However, beyond slight showers, and the untimely break-down of the foremost vehicle in a very narrow street, nothing occurred to mar the pleasure of the charming drive to Combe Abbey, which we visited by the kind permission of the Countess Craven. The paper read there by Mr. Porter, full as it was of admirably condensed information, will be

too fresh in the memory of those who were present to render any detailed history of Combe necessary, while the sketches* which Mr. Cund's clever pencil has provided for us are not only far better than any verbal description, but preferable even to the originals they represent, seen as we saw them. Rich in its recollections of the "monks of old," of the Gunpowder Plot, and above all, of the unfortunate Elizabeth, daughter of James the First, and Queen of Bohemia,-who here spent both the hopeful spring-time and the saddened autumn of her chequered career; Combe Abbey commends itself yet more to the visitor's interest by its air of quaint and antique comfort, and by its luxurious seclusion amid its ample park and gardens. The mansion itself is rambling and disconnected; here new, there old, and elsewhere simply old-fashioned; a "concourse of fortuitous" whims and bygone fancies, in which each successive builder seems to have been little regardful of what had been built before him, and little solicitous as to the opinion of those who might follow him. The park and gardens are of noble extent and of great beauty, though the latter show some eccentricity in arrangement. Altogether, while suffering from a certain indefinable air of neglect, to be accounted for by the almost constant absence of the lord and lady of the domain, the whole conveys an impression of sunny and unembarassed ease, "far from the madding crowd," which is not without its own stately dignity.

The sun shone brilliantly as our motley cavalcade passed out upon its homeward journey, though frequent peals of not too distant thunder might have warned us of our possible fate. The heat was intense, and the road to Coventry by Brandon was known to be one of the loveliest even in Warwickshire, so that the one covered van was somewhat at a discount, and was left for the late comers. Alas! ink is not black enough to chronicle, nor are water-colours watery enough to depict the catastrophe which followed. Ere we were clear of the park it commenced to rain;-first violently, then furiously, and lastly indescribably! In less time than it takes us to pen this melancholy record, the unfortunate occupants of the open carriages had been offered, helpless and saturated sacrifices upon the altar of Jupiter Pluvius. All ordinary means of defence were futile against the irresistible onset of that deluge. Mackintoshes were suddenly transformed into portable ponds, which emptied themselves automatically at every jolt,-and umbrellas became nothing more than ingenious contrivances for spouting rain water promiscuously into the necks of all and sundry. As for the inhabitants of the covered caravan, which by reason of the careful closing up of every crevice had become a kind of ambulatory Black Hole of Calcutta, -they journeyed on in much gratitude, and in an almost total darkness, strongly flavoured with a distilled essence of tarpauling, to which otto of roses could not be compared for strength, however tastes might differ as to the fragrance.

Why should we linger longer over this heartrending narrative?

• The sketch of Combe Abbey will appear in our next number.

Suffice it to say that we arrived at Coventry "a spectacle for gods and men," a proposition to carry out the programme by visiting the Cemetery en route having been received with ironical laughter, and the remark from some of the more desponding that "it was not worth while, as they expected to be there very shortly." All was now bustle and confusion; and while the ladies repaired damages as best they could in privacy, and doubtless pondered much over many a mass of confused and saturated pulp, puzzled as to whether it might, in a happier state of existence, have been their own scarf or someone else's bonnet; the gentlemen went over almost en masse to the ranks of the Spiritualists (medicinally.) Some of the more prudent sallied forth in search of ready-made tailoring establishments, and returned in due course enviably dry, encumbered with large damp-looking brown paper parcels, and "fearfully and wonderfully" clad. Others hurried home by the next train to spend the evening in meditation and in bed. All bore their affliction philosophically as one of the accidents of life, which it would be A Liddell too much to expect even an Hon. Sec. to provide against, and an excellent and abundant tea soon made us all at peace with all men, though few cared to complete the day's proceedings by visiting the famous Churches of the city of the three spires.

Doubtless a cloudless day (but not too warm), with a cheerful breeze (but no dust); in fine, a day made to special order would be the best at the time for the actual enjoyment of an excursion. Yet, remembering how brief are the pleasures of realization compared with those of memory, it may reasonably be left an open question whether an outrageously wet day does not cause more satisfaction, in the long run, than the most brilliant sunshine? The latter is so monotonous, if you attempt to describe it you come to a superlative at once, and are at the end of your resources. The former, on the other hand, if somewhat vexatious at the time, is delightfully fruitful in little adventures which are occasionally quite charming-at a distance. For this reason it is exceedingly likely that our involuntary Water Party may ere now have been the fruitful source of more merriment and pleasing recollection than a twelvemonth of sunshine could have evoked. And, indeed, if rumour for once speak truth, there were not lacking upon this memorable afternoon instances of chivalrous self-devotion and tender care upon the part of some of our younger members, towards maiden representatives of the weaker and more dependent sex, which not even the shades of an umbrella could quite conceal, or the folds of a mackintosh doing duty for two persons, entirely veil. On this phase of the question we will not, however, enlarge, but simply express the hope that our misadventures of a day may have been barren of mischief, and fruitful of amusement, and that our next excursion may inherit all the lost sunshine of its predecessor.

ACHESPÈ.

We have not the faintest conception what our contributor means by this sudden introduction of our worthy Secretary's name.-Ed. C. L. A. Mag.

THE DREAMER.

The dreamer sang of mead and bubbling stream,
Of leafy woodland and of sunlit glade;
Earth's brightest pictures as his constant theme,
His soul's pure worship he to nature paid.

He viewed at dewy morn the orient sky,

And saw night's shadows mingle with the day;
He watched the fading twilight pale and die,
And from a swelling bosom breathed his lay.

He voiceless paused as through the sculptured aisle,
Sweet voices rang in notes of sacred praise,
And though his lips were mute and still the while,
A strain in harmony his soul would raise.

He dreamed of love-of love not coarse or cold,
But woven closely with the thread of life,
Of love that sickens not in growing old—
A sweet oasis in a waste of strife.

He dreamed of friendship such as cannot die,
Of earning by his toil an honoured name;
At last from care and sordid grief to fly-

To crown his latter days-he dreamed of fame.

The lark, whose voice is raised at early morn,
In vain makes music for the drowsy earth,
And he, whose fervour rose in gathering storm,
Left busy men unmindful of his worth.

And when at length they crown the dreamer's brow,
And greet his flowing song with flattering breath-
Too late their wreath and tinsel homage now-

His dreams were shattered by the hand of death.

C.E.G.