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alike of passion and of vanity—“Your of excitement — lay stress on excitement friends must see if something cannot be – deprive me of the honour of receiving done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little him in person ; but that you — mention our doubt but that you have many and warm relationship — have been deputed by me to friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a hear, and if necessary to convey to me any broken reed to depend on. Never was communication he may have to make. there one with less credit with his party. I You will take care to impress upon him might go farther, and say, never was there that if the subject-matter of his visit be the one whose advocacy would be more sure to same as that so lately discussed between ourdamage a good cause; therefore exclude selves, you will avail yourself of the discreme in all questions of your advancement. tion confided to you not to report it to me. If you could obliterate our relationship it That my nerves have not sufficiently remight possibly serve you.”

covered from the strain of that excitement “I am too proud of it, my lord, to think to return to a topic no less full of irritating

features than utterly hopeless of all accom“Well, sir,” said he, with a sigh, “it is modation. Mind, sir, that you employ the possibly a thing a man need not feel word as I give it accommodation. It is ashamed of, at least I hope as much. But a Gallicism, but all the better, where one we must take the world as it is, and when desires to be imperative, and not precise. we want the verdict of public opinion, we You have your instructions, sir.” must not presume to ask for a special jury. “Yes, I think I understand what

you

deWhat does that servant want? Will you sire me to do. My only difficulty is to know have the kindness to ask him whom he is whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbroke looking for?”

may bring forward be the same as those “ It is a visitor's card, my lord,” said you discussed together. If I had any clue Sewell, handing it to the old man as he to these topics, I should at once be in a pospoke.

sition to say — These are themes I must de“There is some writing on it. Do me cline to present to the Chief Baron." the favour to read it.”

"You have no need to know them, sir," Sewell took the card and read, “ See Sir said the old man, haughtily. “You are in B. for me. WILMINGTON. Sir Brook the position of an attesting witness; you Fossbrooke.” The last words Sewell spoke have no dealing with the body of the docuin a voice barely above a whisper, for a ment. Ask Sir Brook the question as I deadly sickness came over him, and he have put it, and reply as I have dictated.” swayed to and fro like one about to faint. Sewell stood for moment in deep

" What! does he return to the charge ?” thought. Had the old man but known cried the old man, fiercely. “The Viceroy over what realms of space his mind was was a diplomatist once. Might it not have wandering – what troubles and perplexitaught him that, after a failure, it would be ties that brain

was encountering — he as well to employ another envoy ?” might have been more patient and more

“You have seen this gentleman already merciful as he gazed on him. then ?” asked Sewell, in a low faint tone. “I don't think, sir, I have confided to

· Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half you any very difficult or very painful task," together an hour and half that neither of said the Judge at last. us will easily forget.”

“ Nothing of the kind, my lord,” replied “I conjecture, then, that he made no he, quickly; “my anxiety is only that I very favourable impression upon you, my may acquit myself to your perfect satisfac; lord ?".

tion. I'll go at once. “Sir, you go too fast. I have said noth- “ You will find me here whenever you ing to warrant your surmise; nor am I one want me.”. to be catechised as to the opinions I form Sewell bowed, and went his way; not of other men.

It is enough on the present straight towards the house, however, but inoccasion if I say I do not desire to receive to a little copse at the end of the garden, Sir Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though to recover his equanimity, and collect himhe be from so high a quarter. Will you do self. Of all the disasters that could befall me the very great favour” — and now his him, he knew of none he was less ready to voice became almost insinuating in its tone confront than the presence of Sir Brook

.“ will you so deeply oblige me as to see Fossbrooke in the same town with himself. him for me? Say that I am prevented by No suspicion ever crossed his mind that he the state of my health; that the rigorous in- would come to Ireland. The very last he junctions of my doctor to avoid all causes had heard of him was in New Zealand,

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where it was said he was about to settle. to carry him through a passage of difficulty. What, too, could be his business with the He could assume a temper of complete imChief Baron ? had he discovered their rela- perturbability; he could put on calm, coldtionship, and was he come to denounce and ness, deference, if needed, to any extent; expose him? No - evidently not. The he could have acted his part — it would Viceroy's introduction of him could not have been mere acting — as man of honour point in this direction, and then the old and man of courage, to the life, with any Judge's own manner negatived this conjec- other to confront him but Sir Brook. ture. Had he heard but one of the fifty This, however, was the one man on earth stories Sir Brook could have told of him, who knew him — the one man by whose there would be no question of suffering him mercy he was able to hold up his head and to cross his threshold.

maintain his station; and that this one man “ How shall I meet him ? how shall I ad-should now be here! here, within a few dress him?" muttered he again and again yards of where he stood ! to himself, as he walked to and fro in a per- “ I could murder him as easily as I go to fect agony of trouble and perplexity. With meet him," muttered Sewell, as he turned almost any other man in the world Sewell towards the house. would have relied on his personal qualities

CASTLES IN THE AIR.

The vale was filled with shadowy forms, that

bore FROM AN UNPUBLISHED POEM BY W. C. BRYANT. Each a white wand, with which they touched

the banks “But there is yet a region of the clouds Of mist beside them, and at once arose, Unseen from the low earth. Beyond the veil Obedient to their wish, the walls and domes Of these dark volumes rolling through the sky, Of stately palaces, Gothic or Greek, Its mountain summits glisten in the sun, Or such as in the land of Mahomet The realm of Castles in the Air. The foot Uplift the crescent, or, in forms more strange, Of man hath never trod those shining streets ; Border the ancient Indus, or behold But there his spirit, leaving the dull load Their gilded friezes mirrored in the lakes Of bodily organs, wanders with delight, Of China, — yet of ampler majesty, And builds its structures of the impalpable And gorgeously adorned. Tall porticos mist,

Sprang from the ground; the eye pursued afar Glorious beyond the dream of architect, Their colonnades, that lessened to a point And populous with forms of nobler mould In the faint distance. Portals that swung Than ever walked the earth.” So said my back guide,

On minsical hinges showed the eye within And led me, wondering, to a headland height Vast halls with golden foors, and bright alThat overlooked a fair broad vale shut in

coves, By the great hills of cloudland. “Now behold And walls of pearl, and sapphire vault beThe Castle-builders !” Then I looked; and, sprent

lo!

now

stems

seen

With silver stars. Within the spacious rooms

Take thou this wand,” my bright companion Were banquets spread; and menials, beautiful

said. As wood-nymphs or as stripling Mercuries,

I took it from her hand, and with it touched Ran to and fro, and laid the chalices,

The knolls of snow-white mist, and they grew And brought the brimming wine-jars. Enters green

With soft, thick herbage. At another touch, The happy architect, and wanders on A brook leaped forth, and dashed and sparkled From room to room, and glories in his work. by;

And shady walks through shrubberies cool and Not long his glorying: for a chill north wind close Breathes through the structure, and the mas- Wandered ; and where, upon the open grounds, sive walls

The peaceful sunshine lay, a vineyard nursed Are folded up; the proud domes roll away Its pouting clusters; and from boughs that In mist-wreaths : pinnacle and turret lean

drooped Forward, like birds prepared for flight, and Beneath their load an orchard shed its fruit; stream,

And gardens, set with many a pleasant herb, In trains of vapor, through the empty air. And many a glorious flower, made sweet the air. Meantime the astonished builder, dispossessed, Stands ’mid the drifting rack. A brief despair

I looked, and I exulted; yet I longed Seizes him ; but the wand is in his hand, For Nature's grander aspects, and I plied And soon he turns him to his task again. The slender rod again; and then arose “ Behold,” said the fair being at my side, Woods tall and wide, of odorous pine and fir, “How one has made himself a diadem

And every noble tree that casts the leaf Out of the bright skirts of a cloud that lay In autumn. Paths that wound between their Steeped in the golden sunshine, and has bound The bauble on his forehead! See, again, Led through the solemn shade to twilight glens, How from these vapors he calls up a host To thundering torrents and white waterfalls, With arms and banners! A great multitude And edge of lonely lakes, and chasms between Gather and bow before him with bare heads. The mountain-cliffs. Above the trees were To the four winds his messengers go forth, And bring him back earth's homage. From Gray pinnacles and walls of splintered rock.

the ground Another calls a winged image, such As poets give to Fame, who, to her mouth But near the forest margin, in the vale, Putting a silver trumpet, blows abroad Nestled a dwelling half embowered by trees, A loud, harmonious summons to the world, Where, through the open window, shelves were And all the listening nations shout his name. Another yet, apart from all the rest,

Filled with old volumes, and a glimpse was Casting a fearful glance from side to side,

given Touches the ground by stealth. Beneath his Of canvas here and there along the walls, wand

On which the hands of mighty men of art A glittering pile grows up, ingots and bars Had flung their fancies. On the portico Of massive gold, and coins on which earth's Old friends, with smiling faces and frank eyes, kings

Talked with each other : some had passed from Have stamped their symbols.” As these words life were said,

Long since, yet dearly were remembered still. The north wind blew again across the vale, My heart yearned toward them, and the quick, And, lo! the beamy crown few off in mist;

warm tears The host of armed men became a scud

Stood in my eyes. Forward I sprang to grasp Torn by the angry blast ; the form of Fame The hands that once so kindly met my own, Tossed its long arms in air, and rode the wind, I sprang, but met them not: the withering A jagged cloud ; the glittering pile of gold

wind Grew pale and flowed in a gray reek away.

Was there before me. Dwelling, field, and Then there were sobs and tears from those brook, whose work

Dark wood, and flowering garden, and blue The wind had scattered : some had fung them

lake, selves

And beetling cliff, and noble human forms, Upon the ground in grief; and some stood All, all had melted into that pale sea, fixed

A billowy vapor rolling round my feet.
In blank bewilderment; and some looked on
Unmoved, as at a pageant of the stage:

Atlantic Monthly.
Suddenly hidden by the curtain's fall.

seen

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From the Saturday Review.lous of them is to go on the Continent. As

a rule, a newly-married

newly-married couple could MISERIES OF THE HONEYMOON.

scarcely do a more rash and ill-considered

thing. The tremendous revolution in In a recently published novel, the author- thoughts and habits wbich cannot but ensue ess has been at the pains to introduce a trom the new state of things is quite bad little disquisition on honeymoons, which enough, without adding to the strangeness must fill the spirit of every reader with dis- and novelty by surrounding the already betress. The common belief is that the time wildered bride with the unusual customs of the honeymoon is one of the most pure and mysterious ordinances of Continental and genuine bliss. But this, it would ap- hotels. The ways of foreigners are not as pear, is a mere delusion. “Of all the dis- our ways. The presence of men where at comfortable periods of a woman's life, that home the service is performed by women, which is derisively called the honeymoon the presence of people under circumstances is the most discomfortable.” Presuming in which at home one is accustomed to their that discomfortable means the same thing absence, the horribly deficient accommodaas uncomfortable, one is rather startled by tion in the shape of dressing-rooms and this to begin with, but worse follows." The baths, and a variety of startling usages quos aspect of things, like an unaired robe, dicere versu non est, combine to make a sostrikes coldly against her heart; there is no journ in all a very few Continental honook or corner where she seems to have her tels rather a serious trial. Even to a man fit abiding-place; the smoothness of sweet it is trying. The bridegroom may be nearly custom has departed from her path, and a as much harassed as his less audacious comrough road of jarring incongruities is sub- panion. Still, hers is the harder part. It stituted for it.' What on earth are the is sometimes said that it would be much jarring incongruities thus mysteriously more sensible to bring English girls up on named ? And would not a majority of Continental principles, and that we should brides look back upon the lethargic dulness do better to cultivate their delicacy up to a of sweet custom rather than its smoothness ? much less sensitive point. Our assailants Why a pleasant excursion with a lover maintain that a great deal of what we prize should be either jarring or incongruous we is no more than a useless fringe of delicacy, cannot for the life of us make out. How. which we might strip off without any loss to ever, we are assured that every bride sighs real purity, and with the greatest increase for “ the gracious days of untrammelled sin- in freedom and comfort. This may be, or gleness ;” never was she so much bored by it may not. Whetber the foreign fashion her old solitude as by this a true loneliness of recognizing facts which in this country of never being alone.” And then, says the we are accustomed to conceal be an imwriter indignantly, though rather incom- provement or not, there is certainly no likeprehensibly we own, “ As if it were not lihood of the slightest change taking place enough to steep her to the lips in strange in the present generation. Perhaps those

strange duties, strange habits, strange who are brides now, recollecting their own hopes and fears for a future yet hidden sorrows and discomforts, may bring up their away in a darkness far deeper than that of daughters on revolutionary principles. the grave - it is her fate to be removed Meanwhile the fact remains that to an Engaway from every family scene, as if she were lish lady, brought up with English notions plague-spotted, and as if her own house and English habits, the Continent is by no hold had disowned her.” The last few means a pleasant place for travel with a words sound most uncommonly like non- strange husband. She may not talk moonsense, and any bride who should be so fool shine to herself about being “plagueish as to feel herself plague-spotted or cast spotted” or “disowned by her family." but off, because she had gone away with her there still will probably be many moments husband instead of staying quietly at home, when she would give worlds to be back again would deserve to be divorced on her return. even in the dullest of English homes. But though the authoress has put the case But, in arranging a honeymoon, is not all somewhat hyperbolically, as it is the wont travelling about from place to place a clear of authoresses to do, it is not difficult to see blunder? Travelling has a fearfully trying that there may be a basis of fact and reason effect on the temper with most people. It for her gloomy picture. People no doubt makes them peovish and hasty. They never make the most dreadful blunders in the ar- succeed in getting the luggage and the tickrangement of these memorable excursions. ets fairly of their minds, or else they show The most common and the most conspicu- a fatuous indifference about them which is

ness

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for ever causing all sorts of confusion and in real life. Two people must have a very horrid discomfort. Many people, too, who extraordinary amount of internal resources are thoroughly agreeable in an ordinary to go and spend five or six weeks together way, display the strangest and most unsus- in some place which is indescribably pretty pected traits when they find themselves and rom

omantic, but at the same time very among unfamiliar faces. They begin to lonely and very dull. Of course, if they give themselves curious airs, as if they were work at science or history or philosophy for persons of quality and consequence in dis- five or six hours a day, they may get on guise; or they shrink timorously or defi- very well. A walk together and dinner antly into the depths of their inner selves. together after this would not be likely to Then, again, frequent change of scene does pall. But then the majority of brides and not agree with everybody. Most English bridegrooms take no interest whatever in people are dreadfully worried by being science or philosophy, or solid pursuits of transplanted from one place to another. any kind. If they cannot spend the time Those wbo shine most brilliantly at their in amusement or business or conversation, own firesides become clouded over else- or thinking about amusement or business, where, and repeated changes literally sub- they fall into the grasp of a gigantic ennui. merge them in gloom and moodiness. All Except in the case of two very strong and this shows that for two people to set off on cultivated minds, there can scarcely be a a trip which entails a number of longish inore fatal blunder than the attempi to enjourneys, and a great variety of stopping-joy unmixed bliss in a lonely honeymoon. places, is not the proper plan for allowing When two people have a long common past each to see the best of the other; because to look back upon together, it is different. pot one person in a thousand is seen at his But looking forward together to a long combest when travelling, and a great many are mon future is marvellously unsatisfactory, seen at their very worst. At the same aster a very short time. The future has time it is possible to fall into a grievous mis- nothing tangible and certain as the past take on the other side. Seeing the discom- has; $0

the two minds roam vacantly forts of taking a newly-married wife to a through space, wishing it were dinner-time. series of foreign hotels, some men esconce The Duke was perhaps right when he dethemselves in sequestered dells and remote

clared that: spots in the country or by the seaside. Here you may, perhaps, have leisure to dis- Such as I am all true lovers are, cover and contemplate the good points of

Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, your companion. Only the leisure too of

Save in the constant image of the creature

That is beloved. ten proves thoroughly disproportionate to the good points. The good points are not adequate to filling up all the time, and then, But when the lover has become the busunfortunately, the margin of time unoccu- band, after a prolonged honeymoon in a pied fills itself up by the discovery of bad dull and lonely place, the constant image points. The happy couple forget that the may absolutely generate an unstaid skitperson you like best in all the world may tishness, if not downright ill-humour and still upon occasion have the power of bor- weariness. ing you as frightfully as the person you most Some of the misery which the novelist dislike. In one of Miss Braddon's novels a from whom we have quoted describes so situation of this sort is made to lead up to a magnificently is due to the teachings of fearful catastrophe, in the form of a pro- others of her own craft. Marriage is the longed estrangement between husband and chief among many things which nearly all wife. Instead of going to some place where novelists love to paint in false colours. there is plenty of life and diversion, the hero They talk tolerably rationally about the reis induced by a treacherous friend to spend lations of parent and child, and brother and his honeymoon in a place where he and his sister, but that of husband and wife is inwife see no faces but their own for five or variably veiled by a thick haze of delusive six weeks. Of course, the design of the sentiment. And novelists are not the only treacherous friend is accomplished perfectly. persons to be blamed. Perhaps human naAt the end of the time, the bride can ture, or that fragment of it which is develscarcely endure the sight of her new lord, oped in the bosoms of young ladies, has and the new lord, though too thick-headed something to do with the case.

Girls resoto be distinctly bored, feels that something lutely refuse to believe that the future life has gone seriously wrong between them with their lover will be a more or less faithAnd the caso is, doubtless, not uncommon | ful reproduction of the lives of the father

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