calamity to imprisoment for debt among strangers. Fortunately I was able to extricate him from his embarrassment; the diamonds left me by my mother were at my own disposal; the day I went to my brother in the Rue Meslay he explained to me the way in which money could be raised upon such valuables; and on the day after, through the intervention of my aunt the whole affair was arranged, and Edgar enabled to return to England.

"Oh Clémence!" exclaimed Monsieur de Lombrageux, falling at the feet of his wife, "can you ever forgive my unworthy suspicions of you? I see the whole transaction now in its true light, and not another word of explanation will I listen to."

"Softly, Monsieur," returned Clémence, without relaxing from the severity of tone and manner she had assumed, "after what has occurred I feel too strongly the importance of possessing written documents corroborative of the truth of my assertions to relinquish the triumph of completing my justification, by placing them before your eyes. I must require you to read this other letter; it is the one written to me by my brother after his return to London, and you will find in it an account of the happy manner in which I enabled him to get out of his difficulties."

"No, no, Clémence!" exclaimed Monsieur de Lombrageux, crushing the letter in his hand, and throwing it from him; "I am more than convinced-more than repentant, that I could ever have doubted you! Be generous, and forgive me, without humiliating me further."

Clémence, too noble-minded to evince a rancorous feeling towards one whom she beheld thus prostrate at her feet, stretched forth her fair hand to her kneeling husband, who, at once humbled by the conviction of his own error, and elated by the certainty of his wife's virtue, covered it with tears and kisses, and in the fulness of his joy claimed the right of transferring to himself the liquidation of Edgar's debt, and of writing forthwith to that individual to effect a reconciliation with him.

Clémence then obtained from her husband a reluctant avowal of the outrage he had been guilty of towards the Baron de Crèvecœur ; she learnt that a duel had ensued between them within the last two hours, in which the Baron had received a slight flesh-wound. Her good sense asserted itself on this trying occasion; instead of dwelling upon her own wrongs, she thought only of what was due to her husband's reputation. She accordingly urged him to make to Monsieur de Crèvecœur the most ample apology for his conduct towards him; and proposed a tour in Italy for a few months until the éclat of the affair should have subsided.

The suggestions of Clémence were speedily acted upon. Four days after the duel Monsieur and Madame de Lombrageux set off for Nice; and as Clémence, just before stepping into her travelling-carriage, exchanged a last embrace with her aunt, the latter whispered in her ear,

"Console toi, mon enfant! you have suffered cruelly in this absurd affair, but good sometimes comes out of evil; and should your husband ever recommence his jealous suspicions, you have in your hands an infallible means of bringing him to reason by desiring him to remember the BLUE FIACRE!"

APROPOS OF TOBACCO.

BY AN OLD SMOKER.

"BLESSED be the man who invented sleep!" was the pious ejaculation of our worthy and inimitable friend, Sancho Panza, and we, not denying the advantages, pleasures, and delights of slumber, change the subject-matter, and exclaim, "Blessed be the man who discovered tobacco!" Yes! blessed be the man who first rescued this precious weed from obscurity, and brought it into general estimation. For, what has been more useful to mankind? what more beneficial? Its virtues are manifold; their name is Legion. Truly the Indians proved their wisdom by making the pipe the symbol of peace, for, what more soothing? what more consolatory? To all men it proves of service, from royalty to the bone-picker. The philosopher over his pipe and coffee (excellent berry, rare weed !) reasons and speculates with a freshness and vigour which encourages him in his labours. And, if invention consist, as Condilliac will have it, in combining in a new manner ideas received through the senses, when are they received with such force, clearness, and energy, as when under the inspiration of the Virginian weed? The historian, whose province it is to study facts, events, manners, the spirit of epochs, can certainly not do justice to his subject if he be not an adept in blowing a cloud."

The romancist, who differs only from the historian in that he embodies brief spaces and not centuries, families and not races, he, too, must love his meerschaum or his cheroot. Leaning back leisurely upon his sofa, if he have one, and puffing his amber mouth-piece, ideas, thoughts, feelings, rush in rapid succession upon the mind prepared for kindly and soothing emotions. In the curling wreaths of vapour, which ambiently play around him, he discovers lovely and exquisite images; amid the shadowy pulsations which throb in the atmosphere, he sees the fair and exquisite countenance of woman, faint, perhaps, as the shade cast by the Aphrodisian star, but yet visible to his eye. The aromatic leaf is the materiel of his incantations. Yes, there is magic in the cigar.

Then, to the sailor, on the wide and tossing ocean, what consolation is there, save in his old pipe? While smoking his inch-and-a-half of clay, black and polished, his Susan or his Mary becomes manifest before him; he sees her, holds converse with her spirit. In the red glare from the ebony bowl, as he walks the deck at night, or squats on the windlass, are reflected the bright sparkling eyes of his sweetheart. Its association of ideas is the principal tie to him, save and except the tie of his wig. It reminds him of the delights of Paddy's Goose and Wapping; it brings him to the end of his voyage, when the perils of the sea are to be forgotten in taking the size of pots of ale. But there is no end to the list of those to whom tobacco is a charmed thing. The Irish fruit-woman, the Jarvie without a fare, the policeman on a quiet beat, the soldier at ease, all bow to the mystic power of tobacco, and none more so than our own self. What it is they know not, nor do they care. It may be cabbage-leaves for aught they concern themselves.

They do not reflect upon the millions which the luxury keeps employed in producing, rearing, preparing, transporting, and vending. It may come from the moon, just as well as from Tobago or Virginia.

But then, too, it is medicinal. How many times in the swamps of the Far West have I escaped malaria, yellow fever, ague, perhaps death, by an unsparing use of the weed; and yet, doubtless, ere long some new Father Mathew will open a crusade against the article. We opine, however, that the vapourings of the anti-tobacco-ites would turn out a bottle of smoke. The worst we wish them is, that they may meet the fate of the love-sick Chinese student, who, in absence of mind, sat down in the bowl of his pipe, and inhaling himself, vanished in thin air; at all events, so saith the author of that most delightful and witty book, ycleped The Porcelain Tower. Our ancestors were wiser than to start such Don Quixote theories. Observe the seriousness with which an ancient writer, chronicling Sir Walter Raleigh's discoveries, describes the weed:-"There is an herbe which is sowed apart by itselfe, and is called by the inhabitants Uppowoc: in the West Indies it hath divers names, according to the several places and countreys where it groweth and is used: the Spanyards generally call it Tabacco. The leaves thereof being dried, and brought into powder, they use to take the fume or smoake thereof by sucking it thorow pipes made of clay, into their stomache and head; from whence it purgeth superfluous fleame, and openeth all the pores of the body: whereby their bodies are notably preserved in health, and know not many grievous diseases, wherewithal we in England are oftentimes afflicted. This Uppowoc is of so precious estimation amongst them, that they thinke their gods are marvelously delighted therewith: whereupon some time they make hallowed fires, and cast some of the powder therein for a sacrifice: being in a storm upon the waters, to pacify their gods, they cast some up into the air, and into the water: to a weare for fish being newly set up, they cast some therein, and into the aire: also after an escape of danger, they cast some into the aire likewise: but all done with strange gestures, stamping some time, dancing, clapping of hands, holding up hands, and staring up into the heavens, uttering there-withal, and chattering strange words and noises. We ourselves, during the time we were there, used to sucke it after their manner, as also since our return, and have found many rare and wonderful experiments of the virtues thereof of which the relation would require a volume by itselfe: the use of it by so many of late, men and women of great calling, as els and some learned physicians also, is sufficient witnesse."

So says Mr. Thomas Hariot, and we think him a smart man. King James was of a different opinion. In these days of tobacco, the following gives a very high opinion of the author's simplicity :

"The Floridians, when they travell, have a kind of herbe dried, who with a cane and an earthen cup in the end with fire, and the dried herbs put together, doe sucke thorow the cane the smoke thereof, which smoke satisfieth their hunger, and therewith they live four or five days without meat or drinke, and this is all the Frenchmen used for this purpose."

It was in the West Indies, or Antilles, that the Spaniards first discovered tobacco. The word itself, now adopted by all European nations, is of Haytian origin. St. Domingo has the honour of giving the plant its most wide-spread appellation. The ancient Mexicans called

it yell, the Peruvians sayri.* In both countries the aborigines smoked and took snuff. At the court of Montezuma, the nobility made use of tobacco smoke as a narcotic, not only after dinner, to induce a siesta, but in order to sleep after breakfast, as is still done in certain divisions of America. The dry leaves of the yetl were rolled into cigares, and afterwards inserted in tubes of silver, wood, or reed: often liquidambar styraciflua gum, and other aromatics, were intermingled. The tube was held in one hand, while with the other the nostrils were stopped, in order the more easily to swallow the smoke. Though the Piciet (nicotiana tabacum) was extensively cultivated in ancient Anahuac, persons only in easy circumstances made use of it; and until of late the Mexican Indians, descendants of the old Aztec population, did not contract the habit. The townspeople, however, of the ancient city of the Montezuma's took it as a remedy against the toothache, colds in the head, and cholics. The Caribees used it as an antidote against poison. In its varieties of canaster, shag, returns, pigtail, plug, cigar, cheroots, princes' mixture, rappee, Irish blackguard, &c., its present uses are sufficiently well known.

P. B. ST. J.

DON'T. YOU THINK ME RIGHT?

BY W. LAW GANE.

TRUE love, for us poor maidens,

Is a rough and crooked path,

And the oak on which we hang our hopes

Proves often but a lath.

My preface done, now hear my case,

Twill grieve those hearts not cold.

A young man I my lover made,

But my father chose an old.

I could not wed an old man,

Oh no! despite his gold.

My father coax'd and wheedled,

But I heard him slyly swear

That he'd teach a saucy minx like me

His sov'reign will to dare.

The day was named, my dress came home,-

Grief made me quite a sight,

The morrow would have seen me wed,

So I eloped at night.

I could not wed an old man,

And don't you think me right?

* Hernandez, lib. v. c. 51; Clavigero, ii. p. 227; Garcilasso, lib. ii. c. 25.

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF LONDON LIFE.

BY J. FISHER MURRAY,

AUTHOR OF "THE WORLD OF LONDON."

CHAPTER X.

WESTMINSTER HALL.

Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings, but I say 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.-SHAKSPEARE.

"TO-MORROW being the first day of Term, the Lord Chancellor will receive the Judges, Queen's Counsel, &c., at his house in Great George's Street, after which the Courts will be opened with the usual formalities."

Such is the announcement in the daily papers of the commencement of one of the four seasons-not Thomson's Seasons, but the seasons of the honourable profession of the law-seasons of perpetual spring-time and harvest, maturing four full crops of actions, and as many distinct harvests of fees, in one revolving year.

Although term-time does not make that striking difference, or assume that importance in London that a Commission of Assize produces in a country town, yet term-time in London does make a difference. There is a stir and bustle about the entrance to Westminster Hall. Palace-Yard cabmen, at other times in a state of lethargy, are in term-time wide awake; the labyrinth of courts and alleys leading from the Temple to Whitehall swarm with pale, bilious barristers, clerks groaning beneath corpulent blue bags, bottle-nosed law-scriveners, and brandy-and-water-faced inferior myrmidons of the law. You see a greater number of bustling, sharp-featured men turning down Whitehall; nor can you doubt that they are solicitors, nature having stamped six-and-eightpence legibly upon their brows. Lounging barristers, without business, are observed walking from their chambers, arm in arm, down to the Hall, and, after a short interval, are observed walking up again; this being their usual, and, indeed, only practice, we have often wondered that these peripatetics of the law are called barristers of so many years' standing.

The first day of term this bustle is increased by a crowd of curious spectators, assembled to behold the impersonated majesty of the law; well-dressed ladies are seen tripping about the Hall, under the guardianship of sundry Lawyer Silvertongues-lady's gentlemen of the bar; carriages wait at the judge's private entrance; the police of the A division are prominent as masters of the ceremonies, and active in repressing the influx of the hands-in-pockets mob, which, having just quitted the military morning concert at St. James's Palace, comes to swell the full tide of those who are doing nothing, or worse, in Westminster Hall.

Westminster Hall is certainly the first place in Europe to catch a cold; the vaulted roof, the unwindowed walls, and the cold stone floor, altogether

VOL. XV.

"Strike a chillness to the trembling heart;"

U