IN April 1882 my father died; and I was at once whirled out of my land of dreams into a very different sphere.

Motherhood is, after all, woman's great and incomparable work.

IT is curious that, with my somewhat antinomian tendencies, I should have gone to Trinity Hall - which was, and is, before all a Law College - and should thus have been thrown into close touch with the legal element in life.

I was in the Square at the time. The crowd was a most good-humoured, easy going, smiling crowd; but presently it was transformed. A regiment of mounted police came cantering up.

And where there had been only jeers or taunts at first, crowds came to listen with serious and sympathetic mien.

With my somewhat vague aspiring mind, to be imprisoned in the rude details of a most material life was often irksome.

Let your mind be quiet, realizing the beauty of the world, and the immense boundless treasures that it holds.