her shattered mind seemed ever to dwell on pleas- tall that Charlie was often hidden from our sight ant subjects, and her countenance, with its calm, as he wandered among its beautiful leaves to reach meaningless smile, seemed to me far less repulsive some distant foxglove, was scarcely stirred by the than it had been before her reason vas cloud- warm noontide breeze. Two noble stags, that ed.

had been drinking at the pond, dashed away across Ellen came from her distant home to stay at the heather as we drew near; but several forest Holly Cottage during her mother's illness, and ponies, in a state of drowsy enjoyment, remained remained there some weeks after the old woman's standing or lying in the shade close to us, onhealth was reëstablished, in the vain hope of seeing startled even by Charlie's merry laughter. her memory and intelligence also restored. Her Ellen threw aside her bonnet, and we both estabchild was with her, and Mr. Courtland constantly lished ourselves comfortably, to enjoy the beauty came to see that all was well with them both. The of our cool, green resting-place. Presently Char. boy, now about two years old, was, indeed, a noble lie stole quietly behind his mother, and, standing creature ; dark hair curled about his fair and open on tiptoe, each little hand grasping as many flowers brow, his eyes were large and blue like his mo- as it could contain, threw the bright shower over ther's, and there was something of his father's her.. How he shouted in gay triumph! how be proud and beautiful smile about his rosy lips ; and clapped his hands, and danced, and sang aloud, never did a child possess richer wealth of love till the woods rang with his clear, gay voice! than was poured on that lovely boy from Ellen's Sweet in my memory is that " pioggia di fior," full and happy heart. Her eye followed his every sweet even as that which fell of old on her who motion ; his imperfect attempts at speech were full satof meaning and of music to her ear, and when he

“ Umile in tanta gloria lisped to her some of the terms of endearment she

Coverta dell' amoroso membo," so liberally bestowed on him, how would she wind her fond arms about him, and almost smother him beside the fountain of Vaucluse ; and scarcely less with kisses! I love to dwell on these pleasant fair than Laura seemed to her lover's eyes, did my recollections; to linger on the image that is present lovely Ellen then appear to mine. Who could to my memory now, of that young mother and her have thought it was her last day of happiness? She happy child. I see them still, the boy's round was even more than usually confidential in her concheek resting on his mother's shoulder; his eyes, versation with me on this occasion. She read full of laughter, glancing at me with pretended some passages from a letter she had that morning shyness, whose real meaning I well knew was to received from Mr., or rather from Lord Courtland; challenge me to play with him. The old woman for the old lord was dead, and the young husband sat in her large arm-chair, watching with her quiet, was hurrying home to avow his marriage publicly. unvarying smile, and Mr. Courtland was often 6 Now," said Ellen, as she closed the letter, there, not the least gay or happy of the group. " there will be nothing to cloud my perfect joy. My

Now that house is desolate, and those who child will fill his proper place in his father's house, dwelt within its walls have passed away like sha- and she pressed her darling to her heart, and told dows. Age is creeping over me, and these events him his father was coming back to them, then of which I write seem rather visions than realities. kissed him with increased tenderness on hearing I feel half disposed to leave the rest of my tale the cry of joy with which he received the news. untold, and yet my grief for them, beloved as they We returned home slowly, for we were all were, is but selfish now. I will finish the task I fatigued ; but before I left the cottage Charlie was set myself.

fast asleep, his rosy cheek pillowed on his arm, and Nearly a year after Ellen had again left Holly a smile parting his sweet lips. Silently Ellen bent Cottage, I heard that she was about to return over him ; doubtless many a bright hope rose thither to remain during the absence of her hus- within her as she watched that peaceful sleeper ; band, who was called to Naples to attend the death- and when she turned away she murmuredbed of his grandfather. By her desire, I caused “God bless you, my child !” in a tone of fondpreparations for her reception to be made by the ness even deeper than usual. woman who had charge of Mrs. Matley. There It rained incessantly the three following days. was a tinge of sadness in Ellen's manner when On the fourth morning I had scarcely breakfasted she came, arising from her having but recently when a stranger was announced, and I beheld, to parted with her husband, for whom she still enter- my surprise and alarm, the gentleman who had tained what some would call a romantic degree of been present at Ellen's marriage, and whom I had attachment. Her boy, however, was gayer than seen at the christening of little Charlie. I felt sure ever. He accompanied his mother and myself in some misfortune had happened. our frequent rambles, bounding on before us with “ You have bad news for me," I said, as he sat the grace and activity of a deer. One day when down beside me. “God forbid anything should we had wandered far from home, (it was our last have happened to Lord Courtland !” walk, though we little thought so then,) we sat "I am, indeed, the bearer of bad news!” he redown to rest on a prostrate oak, Charlie, mean-plied, in an agitated voice ; " and I grieve to say that while, moving about us and filling his pinafore it relates to him." I had not courage to speak, with flowers. I have never visited the spot since, and he presently continued, “ I have come to you, yet I remember it perfectly. It was near a large madam, as the friend of poor Lady Courtland. It pond, about whose edge grew delicate water-plants is necessary that she should, for the sake of her son, covered with white blossoms. Behind us was a be immediately informed of the sad event which thick screen of wood ; before us, beyond the oppo- has occurred; besides, the dreadful story will be site bank of the pond, were scattered trees, afford- in the public papers to-morrow !" ing glimpses of distant blue hills. Sloping rays “But tell me," I said, after a pause, “ tell me of sunshine fell here and there through the grace- what has happened." ful foliage of the tall beeches, stealing down to “The worst !” he replied. their massive trunks till the mass that clung about " You do not mean that Lord Courtland is dead!" them gleamed like living emeralds. The fern, so I exclaimed.

“It is too true!” he answered, sadly. “Poor that fond embrace, pillowed on that loving bosom, Courtland! he was hurrying homewards from Na- the child of many hopes breathed his last. ples, when, between that city and Rome, he was Then, indeed, was the silence of the chamber of attacked by banditti, and shot dead on the spot. A death broken by cries of agony. I dare not dwell friend, who was awaiting him at Rome, has caused upon a scene like that. Poor Ellen refused to allow his body to be brought to England for burial, and it the child to be taken from her arms, and for many will arrive here in a few days.

hours the passion of her grief was not stayed. It were easier to imagine than to describe the When at length her mind sank, from exhaustion, feelings with which I set forth to seek my poor into a kind of stupor, I deemed the time was come friend, and break to her the dreadful news that had for me to make known to her the full extent of her just been communicated to me. On my way, I bereavement. There, beside that bed where the could not but think of her as I had seen her last ; little child lay in the placid yet fearful beauty of and when I turned my thoughts again to the fearful death, I told my sorrowful tale. Ellen listened tale of which I was the bearer, the contrast made quietly, and I doubted whether she understood me, my heart bleed. When I reached the cottage, I till she said, “Both gone! both so dear-50 very found only Mrs. Matley in the usual sitting-room. dear! Tell me all, for I can suffer no more than 4. Where is Ellen ?" I asked.

I suffer now." * Up stairs, with Charlie,” said the old woman. And I told her all; told her that she who had I'm glad you've come, madam, for she's been lately been so rich in love and happiness, was now crying all day. There's something the matter, but almost alone in the world ; that none remained to I can't tell what it is; I am not as I used to be, I her save her poor old helpless mother. When believe - "

morning dawned we were still there, watching beAnd she went rambling on, but I made my es-side the dead. How lovely he was even then ! cape, and stole softly up to Ellen's room, half fear- All expression of pain had passed away; his hair, ing, half hoping that the evil tidings had already loosed from its close curls by the damps of death, reached her ; but I soon saw she had yet another fell over the pillow; and, in truth,“ his face was cause for grief. Charlie, her bright, lovely boy, lay as the face of an angel.” on his little bed : how unlike himself but four days I must pass over hastily the few days that ago! His eyes looked dark and sunken, his fea- elapsed before the funeral. Ellen desired her dartures had fallen away strangely, and poor Ellen sat ling might not be buried within the church, but weeping beside him, holding his feverish hand, and laid in the churchyard, where, when her hour came, feeling as I could see at once, that there was no room she might be laid beside him. I pass over in for hope.

silence the burst of grief that overpowered her when I could not speak; I sat down beside the little the little coffin was conveyed from her sight. Lord bed, and Ellen looked up gratefully. The dear Courtland's friend, who had remained on the spot, child, too, recognized me, and tried to say my superintended every arrangement, and left me free name, but the sound died away in a hoarse whis- to devote all my time to Ellen. per.

| In the evening of the day her child was buried, “ He is very ill,” said Ellen, with almost un- it seemed suddenly to strike her that I had not mennatural calmness; "the doctor has just gone, he tioned her husband's place of interment, and that said he could do no more." She stooped to possibly his remains were to be brought to the moisten the child's lips; and when he smiled and tomb of his ancestors, and I thought it best to tell tried to thank her, she wrung her hands in bitter her the whole truth when she questioned me on the anguish. “Oh, my God!" she cried, throwing her subject. She remained for some time plunged in self on her knees, * help me, help me! And his thought, but made no reply, nor did she again alfather, his fond father! comfort him, or his heart lude to the information I had given her. will break!" I could not bear it; I left the room for a few

CHAPTER IV. minutes, and when I returned, Ellen had resumed Affairs at home requiring my presence, I was her place beside the little sufferer. I took my seat obliged reluctantly to leave Holly Cottage for a again opposite to her. It was a lovely summer's few days. This, however, gave me an opportunity day, and through the open window a light breeze of communicating with Lord Courtland's friend, stole in, laden with the scent of flowers from the Mr. Cayley, from whom I heard that her husband's little garden below. Within the room all was still, will left everything that he had to leave to Ellen. save the painful breathing of the child and an oc- When I afterwards told her this she shook her head casional and almost convulsive sigh from his with sad meaning, and said wealth had lost all value mother. I heard the boughs waving in the forest, in her eyes now; but every little trifle that his hand the singing of the birds, even the trickling of the had touched she received and hoarded with melanlittle stream in the garden. At last a bird came choly pleasure. close to the window and began singing a loud, The vessel conveying Lord Courtland's remains clear song. Charlie turned his languid eyes, and a was, by some accident, delayed long beyond the gleam of pleasure passed over his face. I saw time at which its coming was expected : but at Ellen shudder, but her eyes were dry, and they length I received a note from Mr. Cayley announcnever wandered from the dying child. Now and ing its arrival. “I am desired," he wrote, “ to then she bathed his forehead and wet his lips, and I have everything ready for the burial to-night. sought not to help her, for I felt it was a sort of sacred The funeral procession is to cross Courtland Park right with which none should interfere. Almost to on its way to the church. Would it not be possithe last the child received her attentions with a look ble to remove the poor widow to your own house of gratitude. Two hours passed, and then I saw in the course of the day without her suspecting that death was coming. Charlie lay for some time our reasons for wishing her to go! Anything motionless, then suddenly throwing his arms round seems to me preferable to her being exposed to the his mother, he cried "Mamma! mamma!" In) bare possibility of seeing such a sight."

Of course I went immediately to the cottage, 1 We went up to her chamber. There stood the where I found Ellen sitting with her mother. little bed, with its snowy sheets folded down, even Mrs. Matley had appeared from the first totally as if ready for the child to occupy that night. His incapable of comprehending the nature of the clothes were spread on a chair beside it, and some sorrows that oppressed her daughter, and it was of his little toys lay scattered about the room, just in vain that I had frequently, in reply to her ever- as his own hands had left them. I understood it recurring question of “ Where's Charlie !” en- all. deavored to impress upon her the sad truth. She When Ellen's preparations were completed, I always listened with the same vacant smile, and in took the things she had packed up and left the a few minutes repeated the inquiry. Now, as I room. Before she followed me, I saw her kneel entered the room, she cried, “Here she is, Ellen; beside the little bed and kiss the pillow where her I said she would come this fine day!”

child's bright head had lain. My tears blinded Ellen covered her face, and I saw that her tears me, and I turned away; but she almost immediwere falling fast in spite of her efforts to control ately followed, softly closing the door and locking them. No doubt at that moment her heart pinedit, lest any busy hand should, in her absence, med to hear again the pattering of the little feet that dle with her precious relics of the departed. A used to bound forth to meet me ere I crossed the friend's carriage waited for us, and we were soon threshold; no doubt her thoughts were of the on our way. The shortest road to my house led sweet voice whose glad shout had so often an- by the church, but I had given directions that we nounced my approach. I know that my own heart should be driven another way. Ellen perceived ached as I remembered these things. I drew a my design in so doing, and she said chair beside Ellen, and threw my arm round her, “I thank you much; but I would rather go by but she did not raise her head. The old woman the church You can show me the place where watched her with an anxious, bewildered look, and said

But she could not finish the sentence. “I wish, ma'am, you could tell me what ails! Under one of the noble elm-trees, of which her; she sits there all day, crying, crying, and I there are several scattered about the churchyard, cannot comfort her. Where's Charlie? She Charlie's body had been laid. I led Ellen to the never cries when Charlie is here. Where's Char- little mound that marked the spot. It was already lie?"

covered with daisies, and the golden sunshine fell, I felt Ellen's whole frame shaken with sobs. as if lovingly, upon it. I moved to a little dis

Come away," I whispered ; "do come away!” tance, that the poor mother might feel herself But she did not seem to hear my words.

alone : but she rejoined me in a few minutes, and “ Won't she listen to you?"' continued Mrs. in reply to my look of anxiety struggled to smile, Matley. “I try to cheer her. I tell her that her sayinghusband will soon be here somebody said so, I “God comforts me much. I am glad I hare know; and then I talk about Charlie. She used been here. It was wrong to marmur at the sun to smile whenever I spoke of his pretty ways, dear shine and the joy as I did but an hour ago; they child! Indeed, ma'am, she'll be happy again if have a new and better meaning for me now." you only bring Charlie back."

Indeed, during the remainder of the day she A loud, hysterical cry burst from Ellen. appeared more composed than I had yet seen her

“ This must not be," I exclaimed, as with gen- since her affliction, and when we were parting for tle force I raised her from her seat, and led her the night, she said that her mind was calm, though into the garden. “ You must come to my house, she thought till that day the suddenness of her Ellen, for a few days," I said.

trials had so stunned her, that she had hardly comShe pressed my hand and whispered, “You are prehended their extent very kind to me. God will bless you for it all." As she ceased to speak, I heard a sound of

In the silence that followed many a sweet sum- slow and heavy wheels and the tread of several mer sound fell on our ears, and presently the same horses drawing near the house. I supposed I bird that had flown to the window when Charlie looked uneasy, for Ellen inquired, with a searching was dying (tame, because it had been fed at the glance, if I knew what that sound meant. I tried cottage during the previous winter) came fearless-to appear unconcerned as I answered, that it was ly almost to our feet. Ellen pointed to it. doubtless occasioned by one of the many vagons

“Do you remember?" she said. “I cannot that were constantly passing my door, and I urged bear all these sounds-all this joy. Life and her to retire to rest, as it was already midnight. beauty everywhere ; light, and mirth, and sun-! “No," she said, “I must see first what this shine, and my child in his grave! Think what it is." And she placed herself at the window. is, when at last I fall asleep for a while in the long! I stood beside her, trembling with the conviction night, to see again that rosy face, to feel his cheek that Mr. Cayley's information had been incorrect, on mine, his soft arm about my neck; to dream and that the funeral procession of her husband was we are listening for his father's step, and even at about to pass before Ellen's eyes. The rumbling the moment we spring forward to welcome him, of the wheels came slowly nearer. Presently to awake and remember what and where they are there was a glare flung by many torches, which And then to hear my mother all day long repeating were borne by horsemen; these were immediately the question my own poor heart is ever whisper- followed by a hearse, and the procession was closed ing, "Where's Charlie ? You can feel how by a few more horsemen, cloaked in black. dreadful all this is."

" It is even as I thought," said Ellen, turning “ Indeed, Ellen, I feel it from my soul," I re- to me. " I must follow at once." plied. “You must live with me for a time. I believed her mind wandered, and I went with Your being here is useless to your mother, as you her to her own room ; but she threw a cloak about may safely trust her attendant, and you are expos- her, and tied a veil closely over her widow's cap. ing yourself to unnecessary torture. Come, we I then understood her meaning will prepare at once."

" Stop, Ellen," I cried, as she left the roots

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“ If you will go, at least let me accompany of utter imbecility. The old woman lingered

another year, during which time I was constantly She waited for me on the stairs, and we left the a visitor at the cottage. Her first question whenhouse together, following the sad procession as it ever she saw me, even to the last, was " Where's moved slowly down the street to the church. She Charlie ?" for there was some link in her rememwalked steadily, refusing my assistance; but once brance between me and that beloved child. In all my hand accidentally touched hers, and I started else her memory and intelligence were totally at its extreme coldness. When we entered the gone. One day I turned anxiously to Ellen, hearchurch, the friends and attendants of the dead, al- ing her sigh as her mother pronounced the accusready assembled, inade way for us, and we took tomed words ; but she smiled faintly, and said our stand close at the head of the coffin. Not a “Do not fear for me now : I can hear it better sound escaped Ellen. Without wavering, without than I once did.” weeping, she stood by while the service was read, ! On Mrs. Matley's death, I easily persuaded and even till the body was lowered into the dark Ellen to become a permanent inmate of my house, vault. When all was done, and those present and for fifteen years we shared the same home. I were preparing to depart, I laid my hand on her will not trust myself to speak of the hour in which arm. Gentle as was the touch, she fell to the she was taken from me." There is a second and a ground as if struck by a mortal blow. One deep larger mound now beneath the old churchyard elm, groan escaped from her white lips, and then I and I ofien visit it, treading the narrow path worn thought, in truth, that her sorrowful spirit had by Ellen's feet in her daily visits of old to the flown to rejoin those she loved in a happier world. grave of her child. Many rushed forward to raise her from the floor, Within the church, on the side wall of the reand she was quickly conveyed to my house, cess which contains the vault of the Courtlands, is where, after several hours of insensibility, she a marble slab bearing a simple inscription to the awoke to a consciousness of all that had passed. memory of Ellen's husband, and recording in few

A long and dangerous illness was the conse- words the manner of his death, and below this quence of my poor friend's last severe trial ; but inscription are engraved the names of his wife and youth and a good constitution carried her through child, with the dates of their departure from this it. On being restored to health, she returned to life. her mother, who was rapidly sinking into a state!

An influential public meeting was held at Liver- enlisted the affections of an ardent people on the pool on 22 July-Mr. Brown, the new member side of temperance, and he has broken the long for South Lancashire, in the chair-to memorial- reign of debauch. He has removed one obstacle ize the government on the subject of the present from the material improvement of the Irish people. postal arrangements to and from Liverpool. The His personal sacrifices have been very great, unproceedings expanded from a local to a general stinted, stretched to the extent of his whole means. character. Mr. Jeffrey spoke of Mr. Rowland | There is a generous trustingness in that devotion, Hill as the only man fit to administer with advan- which in itself deserves acknowledgment. Fees tage the great reform of which he was the author. for future service are of doubtful expediency ; but The same idea was embodied in one of the resolu- assuredly a free gift to indemnify Theobald tions : it incorporated this assertion

| Mathew, to repay his generous trust, and to en“ That a post-office system carried to the utmost dow a good and benevolent man with the means possible perfection, at whatever cost' short of of ease for the remainder of his life, would in this actual waste, would yield a larger revenue than case be a merited, a graceful, and a pious tribute has hitherto been derived from such a source ; and to virtue.- Spectator, August 1. therefore it appears most desirable, on every account-moral, social, commercial, and fiscal

| The Universal German Gazette states, that an that the whole of Mr. Rowland Hill's plans of imperial ordinance has just been issued, permitpost-office management should be carried into im- ting the Jews in Hungary to redeem, by the paymediate effect, with all such further improvements ment of a sum once paid down, their yearly as experience and new facilities may suggest ; taxes for leave to reside and carry on business. and that it is the opinion of this meeting that the In five years all special duties on the Jews are to services of Mr. Rowland Hill himself, in perfect- cease. ing the post-office system, would be extremely valuable to the country.”

SPEAKING of the colonies generally, Lord John

Russell declared that Lord Grey agreed with him A new attempt to raise a fund of 70001. in order in admitting the justice and expediency of extendto purchase an annuity of 8001. a year for the ling free institutions as far as they possibly can be Reverend Theobald Mathew, is advertised in our extended; his conviction being, that wherever columns ; and we are asked to support the effort. Englishmen are assembled in great numbers, they Donatives are suspicious things in Ireland. How are not so well governed by a secretary of state as can we avoid applying our own rules, and how by institutions which enable them in some degree will they fit this claim? In sooth, we confess that to exercise self-government. we are not disposed to apply them too strictly here. It is not clear what definite and stable resulis have Mr. Green, accompanied by no fewer than followed Mr. Mathew's exertions; and there was twelve ladies and gentlemen, ascended from Creno lack of inducement to the service, in the idol-morne Gardens in his large Nassau balloon on izing homage which the missionary of temperance Monday evening. The machine passed over Lonhas received. On the other hand, it is certain that don at a low altitude, affording an excellent view

real and great service has been rendered : Mr. of the town to the voyagers, and of the balloon to Mathew may not have created a well-informed and townspeople. After being in the air fifty-two deliberate opinion against drunkenness; but he has minutes, descended at Leyton, in Essex.

From Fraser's Magazine. every word of Monte-Cristo with the deepest interPROPOSALS FOR A CONTINUATION OF IVANHOE.

est; and was never more delighted after getting

through a dozen volumes of the Three Musketeers, IN A LETTER TO MONSIEUR ALEXANDRE DUMAS, than when Mr. Rolandi furnished me with another

BY MONSIEUR MICHAEL ANGELO TITMARSH. dozen of the continued history of the same beroes To the Most Noble Alexandre Dumas, Marquis could get the lives of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis

under the title of Vingt Ans après; and if one Davy de la Pailleterie.

until they were 120 years old, I am sure we should My Lord-Permit a humble literary prac- all read with pleasure. Here is the recess coming titioner in England, and a profound admirer of the season over-no debates to read-and DO your works, to suggest a plan for increasing your novels! already great popularity in this country. We are But suppose that heroes of romance, after eighty laboring, my lord, under a woful dearth of novels. or ninety years of age, grow a thought superandoFashionable novels we get, it is true; the ad-ated, and are no longer fit for their former task of mirable Mrs. Gore produces half-a-dozen or so in a amusing the public ; suppose you have exhausted season ; but one can't live upon fashionable novels most of your heroes, and brought them to an age alone, and the mind wearies rather with perpetual when it is best that the old gentlemen should redescriptions of balls at D- House, of fashion- tire ; why not, my dear sir, I suggest, take up able doings at White's or Crocky's, of ladies' other people's heroes, and give a continuation of toilettes, of Gunter's suppers, of déjeûners, Al- their lives? There are numbers of Walter Scott's mack's, French cookery, French phrases and the novels that I always felt were incomplete. The like, which have been, time out of mind, the main Master of Ravenswood, for instance, disappears, it ingredient of the genteel novel with us. As for is true, at the end of the Bride of Lammermoor, historical novelists, they are, or seem to be, asleep His hat is found, that is to say, on the sea-shore, among us. What have we had from a great and and you suppose him drowned ; but I have always celebrated author since he gave us the Last of the an idea that he has floated out to sea, and his adBarons ? Nothing but a pamphlet about the venture might recommence-in a maritime novel, Water-cure, which, although it contained many say—on board the ship which picked him up. No novel and surprising incidents, still is far from man can induce me to believe that the adventures being sufficient for a ravenous public. Again, of Quentin Durward ceased the day after he marwhere is Mr. James? Where is that teeming ried Isabelle de Croye. People survive even parent of romance? No tales have been advertised marriage ; their sufferings don't end with that by him for time out of mind from him who used blessed incident in their lives. Do we take leave to father a dozen volumes a year. We get, it is of our friends, or cease to have an interest in them, true, reprints of his former productions, and are the moment they drive off in the chaise and the accommodated with Darnley and Delorme in single wedding-déjeuné is over? Surely not! and it is volumes; but, ah, sir! (or my lord,) those who unfair upon married folks to advance that your are accustomed to novelty and live in excitement, bachelors are your only heroes. grow sulky at meeting with old friends, however of all the Scottish novels, however, that of meritorious, and are tired of reading and re-read- which the conclusion gives me the greatest dising even the works of Mr. James. Where, finally, satisfaction is the dear old Ivanhoe-Erannoay, 28 is the famous author, upon the monthly efforts of you call it in France. From the characters of whose genius all the country was dependent ? Rowena, of Rebecca, of Ivanhoe, I feel sure that Where is the writer of the Tower of London, the story can't end where it does. I have quite Saint James, Old Saint Paul's, &c.! What has too great a love for the disinherited knight, whose become of the Revelations of London? That mys- blood has been fired by the sups of Palestine, and tic work is abrupily discontinued, and revealed to whose heart has been warmed in the company of us no more ; and though, to be sure, Old Saint the tender and beautiful Rebecca, to suppose that Paul's is reprinted with its awful history of the he could sit down contented for life by the side of plague and the fire, yet, my dear sir, we are such a frigid piece of propriety as that icy, faullfamiliar with the plague and the fire already ; less, prim, niminy-piminy Rowena. That woman our feelings were first harrowed by Old Saint is intolerable, and I call upon you, sir, with Paul's in a weekly newspaper, then we had the your great powers of eloquence, to complete this terrible story revealed altogether in three volumes fragment of a novel, and to do the real heroine with cuts. Can we stand it rereprinted in the justice. columns of a contemporary magazine! My feel. I have thrown together a few hints, which, w ings of disappointment can't be described when, on you will do me the favor to cast your eyes over turning to the same periodical, attracted thither by them, might form matter, I am sure, sufficient for the announcement of a story called Jackomo Om many, many volumes of a continuation of Ironha, berello, (I have a bad memory for names,) I found and remain, with assurances of profound cononly a reprint of a tale by my favorite author, sideration, which had appeared in an annual years ago. There is a lull, sir-a dearth of novelists. We

Your sincere admirer, live upon translations of your works; of those of

M. A. TITMARSE. M. Eugène Sue, your illustrious confrère; of those of the tragic and mysterious Soulié, that No person who has read the preceding rolumes master of the criminal code; and of the ardent of this history can doubt for a moment what was and youthful Paul Féval, who competes with all the result of the marriage between Wilini three.

Rowena. Those who have marked her conduct I, for my part, am one of the warmest admirers during her maidenhood, her distinguished police of the new system which you pursue in France ness, her spotless modesty of demeanor, herba with so much success of the twenty-volume- / alterable coolness under all circumstances, and he novel system I like continuations. I have read lofty and gentle-woman-like bearing, must be


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