a pedestal beneath outspreading fruit-trees. Below him are females performing on cymbals and harps. We understand that this is the first work of its kind made at the school, and in all respects it is successful. Another class of embroideries which will excite interest is that of the reproductions of old work. Foremost of these is a white satin quilt or portière embroidered in the richest manner with gold couchings relieved by outlines of red silk. The original of this copy was shown by the Countess Brownlow at the special Loan Exhibition of Art Needlework held in 1873. ' Unfortunately, the quality of the modern gold thread—perhaps as good as could be procured—is far inferior in actual manufacture to that of the old, and in consequence, no doubt, the embroiderers found it impossible to reproduce the refined precision of the old couchings.
In conclusion, we may remark upon the advantage which the school enjoys in securing original designs from really good artists. By carefully studying and imitating stitching of the best periods the ladies at the school may look forward to acquiring distinction as art needlewomen. At present they should not rest contented with a success due rather to the novelty than the merit of their efforts.
From The Liberal Review.
GOING TO THE BAD.
"Going to the bad!" This phrase, which is significant though slangy, is often applied to many of those who are moving about in our midst. Generally, however, it is used in reference to people who have already gone, rather than to persons who are going, to the "bad;" for by the time that the world begins to see that a man is travelling in a wrong direction it is invariably true that his case has become almost hopeless. He must be a very stupid person, indeed, if he cannot, in the earlier stages of his decline, hide his failings from the eyes not only of his immediate friends, who are easily hoodwinked, but also of his intimate acquaintances, who are invariably the first to detect his imperfections and perilous condition. Indeed, he may fall into a very wretched plight, and yet those who love him best may imagine that he is what he should be until, perhaps, some day he is the cause of an unpleasant revelation being made unto them. At the same time, it ought not to be a difficult matter for those with whom a man's life is spent to notice when he is placing himself in danger; and it is a pity that they often fail to read signs and nip bad habits in the bud ere they have become second nature. If they were not obtuse, and were willing to do their duty, they might, in many a case, supply what would be a successful antidote to the poison which their patients imbibe abroad. For instance, it would be an easy matter for them to nullify some of the most important evil effects which a young man who is just entering upon life receives from the mixed crowd with which he is compelled to mingle. His partiality for low pleasures and discreditable company and his indifference to the unruffled atmosphere of home are not the growth of a moment, and could be stayed by judicious treatment. But being unnoticed in their earlier stages, they are too frequently unwittingly fostered until they reach such a pitch that it is almost impossible to contend successfully with them. In illustration of all this a typical case may be cited. A is an average young man of respectable position, who is in an office, his duties not being of a particularly onerous or attractive character. Consequently he has the opportunity, as he has the inclination, to "kill time" in as agreeable a manner as may be devised. The most pleasant way of whiling away dreary hours in a business centre appears to be to haunt restaurants, drinking-bars, and smoking-saloons, which are presided over by divinities whose manners are of the free-and-easy sort, so our hero naturally finds his way to these resorts. Here he encounters kindred souls who are one stage further on the road to the "bad" than he is, and by them is induced to advance yet another step. In due course, he is taught to sneer at virtue and to think it a fine thing to indulge in excesses of various kinds. When he has reached this pointy his home—which at its best, perhaps, is a cheerless, unsympathetic sort of place, in which he can find little to interest him—becomes distasteful, and so at night-time he is persuaded to wander afield in search of excitement. During his rambles he falls a victim to the harpies and swindlers—male and female—who exist by preying upon those who have fairly supplied pockets and lax morals. By-and-by he acquires a real love for drink, and deleterious liquids which at one time he consumed out of a spirit of bravado, he takes because he likes them. It is when he has arrived at this extremity
