reckoned so in all speculations regarding those few ages which bound our future. The true heroes, the consecrated benefactors in Chinese history, do in fact simply make known what our best and least bigotted travellers tell us of the existing people. The virtues which canonize a man are simplicity, rationality, and benevolence. To be great, signifies to do good-to patronise industry, to exhibit cheerfulness, and to honour parents. These, amid imperfections and crimes, govern, at the present moment, the heart of Chinese humanity; and, in the pictures which history has left as examples, what would be thought to sully or obscure is of course dropped. The three great men whose reigns fill up "the Heroic Age," and by whose characters, the Einperors who aspire after what is good still mould themselves, are Yaou, Shun, and Yu. The following are portraits in outline :

:

Yaou was frugal in his food, and almost mean in his dress; to study the happiness of his people was his sole business. Unwearied in his researches, he made annual tours throughout the empire; his arrival was anxiously looked for; his presence, as refreshing as that of the rain upon the parched soil. What he taught in words he inculcated by example. "Strive," he said, for wisdom, and render virtue conspicuous; show obedience to your supe. iors, be kind, be condescending; thus you will promote harmony, and all the nation will be happy." Without effort he promoted virtue, his sole example being sufficient to render the whole nation virtuous; "virtue ran with the speed of a postilion; and he thus ruled the nation as easily as he could turn a finger in the palm of his hand." A rare instance, and, if true, the only one in all history! After Yaou came Shun. Shun knew and acted on some truths, which we are only beginning to descry a glimpse of. China, good reader, is, after all, not so barbarous !

The modest Shun, when he was called to participate in the throne, long refused so high an honour, upon the plea of being unworthy to reign, but Yaou conferred upon him the dignity, without the least hesitation; yet Shun could not allow himself to be called emperor as long as Yaou lived. On his tour through the empire, he paid respect to all the gods by continual sacrifices. These tours, though called hunts, were made with the sole object of examining into the state of the country, and redressing all kinds of grievances. He reduced the criminal laws to a code, which forms at this day the basis of the Chinese laws. Sze-ma-ts en gives some examples of his punishments, To reform the northern barbarians, he sent Kwan-tow, an officer in disgrace, to the Tsung mountain. Kwan, who, without success, engaged in draining the marshes, was exiled to the Yu mountains. In order to render the southern savages more tractable, the Sanmeaou nation was sent thither, to establish colonies amongst them, whilst Kaou went among the eastern barbarians to teach them better manners. Thus, he infiicted punishment in such a manner, as at the same time to render others happy. As punishments had hitherto been extremely barbarous, consisting, in branding the face, cutting off both nose and ears, &c.; he abolished these inhuman modes of punishing, enacted effectual laws to prevent crime, and thus proved a great benefactor to his country.

When Yaou died, deeply regretted by all the people, Shun withdrew from office for three years, in order to bewail the loss of this great emperor, and to yield the throne to Yaou's son. But the people deserted the son of Yaou to follow Shun, with joy proclaiming him emperor, so that he at length reluctantly yielded to their wishes.

To record all the eulogiums bestowed upon Shun would be tedious; his reign was most peaceful, his subjects were virtuous. He raised to great honours the descendants of the foregoing dynasty, who had long lived

in obscurity. In order to see his actions in a true light, he permitted everybody to accuse him whenever he chose. His officers were kept in good order by a tribunal invested with the power of punishing and rewarding. He was not only wise, but also brave. Neither demons nor apparitions could terrify him, nor showers of rain, nor peals of thunder, make him tremble.

We record these sketches with vast pleasure. They are most emphatic,-they prove the ex

istence of rich seeds of wisdom and benevo

lence-the yet undeveloped sources of a large amount of human happiness, in a quarter of the globe, beside whose teeming myriads, even the population of Europe is little other than a handful. How many things of moment to civilisation will flow from the recovery of China from its present unfortunate isolation! To Shun succeeds Yu, or, as he is termed in distinction, TaYu, Yu the Great-precisely as we have distinguished our Alexanders, and other barbarian conquerors. But Yu's greatness lay not in war. He did not destroy, but saved men. covered the country from a fearful deluge, and taught the arts of peace. Assuredly, there is something in a people with so pure an heroic age.

He re

When Sun was about to associate Yu with himself upon the throne, he addressed him in the following

manner :

"Come here, Yu, thou hast proved faithful, and merited well in draining the land. Thou art the only sage. Thou hast shown thyself diligent in regulating the country; in regulating thy own family thou hast been careful. Be not puffed up by vain conceit; but the empire is not envious of thy power, for thou art not vain. Thou seest that I encourage merits and praise deserts, and therefore thou art to succeed me upon the throne, for to thee belongs this august rank."

Many of

Thus encouraged, Yu could address his officers in equally strong language." Be circumspect," he said"this will save you much anxiety. Never transgress the law, never study your ease, never be drowned in pleasure. Trust yourselves entirely to the guidance of sages. Never act in opposition to the will of the people, in order to honour your own whims. Be neither slothful nor negligent, and even the barbarians of the four quarters of the globe will acknowledge you as their rulers." The officers frequently replied, and many a wise maxim was uttered during those meetings: we know not, however, how far they practised what they so readily approved. the maxims are worthy of the consideration of all princes; they are the fruits of good, sound sense, and speak highly for the wisdom of those who uttered them. But Yu did not only profit by the advice of his ministers; the simple remark of a common rustic drew his attention. To prevent oppression in every shape, and to gain the necessary advice in government affairs, he caused a bell to be placed at the gate of the palace; whosoever wished to converse with him upon civil affairs, sounded it, and was immediately admitted. A tablet of iron invited the people to complain of any grievances, which might have been occasioned by the oppressive measures of their magistrates. There were, likewise, leaden and stone tablets, to induce the wise throughout the empire to come and advise him on subjects of law, ministerial affairs, &c. He was deeply grieved, when he met, in one of his tours, the body of a man, who had been assassinated; but instead of threatening vengeance, he blamed himself for not having prevented such a cruel act by a paternal and efficient government.

Instances of the endeavours of the great Emperors to follow in the steps of Yaou, Shun, and Yu, are scattered over these volumes. The Chinese, as already mentioned, are no niggards in their praise of any virtue, or any true heroism. Military prowess devoted to the public service

has also a niche in their national mausoleum, i. e. in the public remembrance; but, in conformity with the genius of the people, it is never immortalized for its own sake, or unless in con.. sideration of its end. Even the great-the magnificent Kublai, is less accounted for his conquests, than as the contriver and executor of those vast enterprises which intersect all China by canals, and bring her remotest provinces into contact. Other three brief extracts must close our engagements with Gutzlaff. The following, with much of the same kind, establishes our previous assertion, that the attachment of the Chinese to antiquity will never overpass what their lights induce them to consider of present use. But it has also a far deeper interest; it is at least equal to the incident of Ahimelech and the shewbread.

The harvest had for several years been very bad; and a drought destroying the crop of 153, more than 100,000 families of the province Kechoo left their homes in search of a better country. The mandarias of this district, in order to justify their behaviour, produced their defence, but were condemned by an imperial envoy, Choo-moo, who put them in prison to await their final doom. Many of the mandarins, despairing of life, committed suicide; others suffered by the hands of the executioner. Amongst them was the father of an eunuch, who obtained leave to bury his parent. His funeral was very sumptuous, and much treasures were interred with the body. Choo-moo, indignant at this useless waste of riches, opened the grave, and procured from the jewels it contained, food for the people. He was, in consequence of this sacrilege, arrested by the mandarins, and sent to the capital to receive punishment; but when the people heard this, they went in a large body to the court, and represented the virtues and love of Cho-moo towards the nation, in language so energetic, that the emperor instantly released Choo-moo, and appointed him to a very high office in the state.

Our last morceaus will amuse and admonish many. The first is too tough, in all probability, for our new Administration, and the second may safely be recommended to the thoughts of gameloving landlords.

Le-Wang was deaf to these exhortations; "the only thing I want," thought he, "is money; fill my treasuries, and I am satisfied." To gratify his thirst for gold, he created Yung-e-kung his treasurer. This man, who understood the art of living upon the sweat of the people, was indefatigable in his oppression, and thus became the favourite of his avaricious master. The cry of the oppressed resounding throughout the empire, at length also reached the cars of the monarch himself. Anxious to discover the malcontents, he inquired their names; but as Chaou-kung, his minister, refused to betray them, the emperor invited some magicians from the Wei state; and all those who were pointed out to him by the sorcerers suffered death. The astounded people scarcely dared to whisper; and Le-wang was filled with delight at having succeeded so well in stifling the voice of the people. Once a-day he met Chaou-kung, and exclaimed: "Have I not well succeeded in stilling the complaints? who dares now to open his mouth ?"-" This," replied Chaou-kung, "is nothing but a veil, which prevents you from knowing the innermost thoughts; but remember, that it is more perilous to stop the mouths of the people than to arrest the rapids of a torrent. By restraining it, you will only cause it to flow over, and do the more injury. If you wish to prevent all damage, you ought to dig a large bed, which can contain all the water. In the same way, those who are charged with governing the people ought to grant them liberty of speech. That emperor may be said to understand the art of government who permits poets to make whatever verses they please, and to enjoy their

Woo-te was much devoted to Buddhism, and enter. tained a great many priests; but spent a great part of his time in hunting. Once passing through a corn-field, then in the blade, he admired the beauty of it. Fan-yun, one of his friends, remarked: "You are right; but you do not remember the pain it has cost. If you would reflect, that this corn has been watered by the sweat of the people, and that it is the result of three seasons of the year, I am confident your hunting parties would give you more pain than pleasure." From this moment the prince abstained from indulging to excess in the practice of hunting. He died in 493.

We have not attempted to offer even an approach to an analysis of the Chinese character, or a view of the Chinese people. The work before us is a "sketch," and our remarks are still more sketchy. We had intended to complete them, by a short developement of the ethical philosophy of China, which-as it always must be when exclusively of home growth-is a systematic view of the popular moral tendencies, some few of which we have endeavoured to point out. From this purpose we are deterred, partly by the confinement of our limits, and partly because it would be out of place in a review of Mr Gutzlaff. His account of Confucius, and of his greatest follower Mencius, are neither complete nor discriminating-scarce even intelligible; and we do not feel disposed to attach to his volumes, discussions, the entire material of which is derived from other sources. Of the illustrious Bentham of the East, we may speak at another time.

From this paper, however, and far more from the work which occasioned it, important conclusions will be drawn. It is manifest, in the first place, that the causes of China's continued isola tion are by no means irremoveable. The mass are influenced solely by the prejudice against strangers, inseparable, in some degree, from a state of lasting separation; but with them the prejudice is weak, and will give way to their convictions of the utility of intercourse. The recent remarkable voyage of the Amherst, and the subsequent expedition of the Sylph, prove that it has already all but given way; and a brief experience of trade with our merchants will doubtless wholly destroy it. The Mandarins, in their repulsion of strangers, besides being swayed by the popular sentiment, are actuated by the dread of two occurrences; first, of the destruction of their own power by these strangers, one of whom is already knocking on the very gates of the Celestial Empire; and, secondly, of the destruction of that power, by the increased information of the Chinese. It rests with the nations of the West, with Great Britain especially, to appease, by peaceful, open, and frank conduct, these suspicions of foreign invasion; and, indeed, it will be strange if we should not, seeing that to be of value to a commercial people, China must be inhabited and cultivated precisely by some such

and, in reference to the internal question, the natives themselves will assort the dispute, after their good ancient mode, by reforming their Government. All home matters we may leave in their hands, for they are very safe. It is our only business and duty to push on unremittingly towards the extension of an accessible intercourse, which might surpass our whole trade with Europe-an intercourse which, beyond any other now existing, promises a rich harvest of mutual advantage. The predictions of our late Hong are idle as air; they are contrary to the very nature of things; they were not founded on a comprehension of the Chinese. Ere long, the noble rivers of that vast territory will bear our steamers to the interior confines of Thibet; we will traverse the canals of the Great Kublai, and the Chinese will welcome our approach.

The

of arrangement so novel and peculiar. It would be vain, at this distance both of time and space, to speculate on those changes, although they will not, cannot be inconsiderable. Fancy the influence of even one nation-of Greece, taken from out the midst of European history-and how difficult to define the amount we would have lost! nor is it possible to resolve with accuracy even a simpler problem-that of our present condition, if uninfluenced by a State which is but of yesterday that great Republic which towers in sight beyond our Western Ocean. But the inverse problem is yet of deeper interest, and more difficult solution. Who shall say what China, will be changed into by contact with Europe? Do we remember the effect on our own Continent when a new world first burst upon its knowledge; and is it not certain that here will be repeated something of the same phenomenon? We seek not to answer these questions. Time is their only sure resolver; it is enough to suggest them. And now his march is quick. Alike within and around us, centuries are being crowd

the page of human history which shall be written during the next hundred years.

WE learn with deep regret that Mr Rowland Detrosier has been suddenly withdrawn from his labours in the field of human improvement. This useful and remarkable man died in the end of November, in consequence of a cold taken after delivering a lecture at the opening of the Mechanics' Institution of Stratford. Detrosier was an unfortunate and neglected child. Strangers supplied to him the place of his parents. The elements of education he acquired in childhood at a Sunday school. For the rest he was self-taught. In the midst of great difficulty and severe privation, he acquired a knowledge of much useful learning, and of many branches of science. He has been for days without a meal, and for months without a shirt; but he never was without the desire of improving himself, and benefiting his fellow-creatures. His earliest services, as one of the benefactors of his kind, were performed in a Sunday school. But his chief claim to distinction with posterity is the organization of MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS. The first of these humanizing societies was established by him at Hulme, the second at Manchester. Hence they have spread far and wide, though, in respect of their incalculable

utility, they are still in their infancy. By teaching others, Detrosier gradually acquired knowledge himself. Among his first pursuits was the captivating science of natural history. From natural science, his vigorous and progressive understanding extended to morals and politics, and upon all of these subjects he delivered lectures to popular audiences, bringing knowledge and science to the loom-shop, the forge, and the humble hearth of the artisan. Detrosier, from the publication of some of his lectures, became known beyond the scene of his zealous and useful labours. He was invited to London, where he became secretary to the National Political Union. When the reform struggle, in which he contended manfully, was over, his active intellect again reverted to its chosen object and vocation -the diffusion of education among the people. Shall such men be taken from us, and shall we not, while we bless and revere their memory, hold up their bright example for encouragement to others to go and do likewise? It is to the honour of our common humanity, that Detrosier, as soon as known, found those who could both value and befriend him.

53

SOME people will call this fascinating work a historical novel. We call it a pure specimen of the modern romance, on which historical anecdotes, traits, and characters are, with varying skill, embossed. It is of the age of Mazarine and De Retz in France, and of Cromwell and the Restoration in Britain.

Francisco da Carrara, the representative of a noble and decayed house, dwelt with his orphan grandchildren— Guido the son of his son, and Francesca the daughter of his daughter-in the dilapidated palace of La Franchi in Rome; and in poverty and obscurity.

The old man himself never alluded to his former life. When he went back upon the past, it was to recall honours long departed, and the deeds of a heroic house, whose splendour, he often vaguely hinted, he was destined to revive.

The side of the Tiber on which they lived was thinly inhabited; a family of decayed nobility, named Mancini, and a convent of poor nuns, where the little Francesca acquired some knowledge of embroidery and of music,were their only neighbours. Guido had been entirely educated by his grandfather, who applied to the task by fits and starts; and, in like manner, the boy had taken frequent fancies of instructing his cousin, or, as she was always called, his sister. Guido was twenty, and Francesca seventeen. The three were now assembled in the old banquetting-hall, which, from its state of better preservation, had become their ordinary chamber.

The old man was seated in a large low arm-chair, whose rich carvings of black oak were almost architectural in their dimensions; it was drawn close to the huge and gloomy chimney, where was placed a small pan of charcoal, whose red glare served to shew rather than disperse the gloom around. Over this was simmering a preparation of herbs, which diffused a strong but pleasant odour. A single line of light wandered amid the obscurity-it came from an open door, beyond which a winding staircase led to the tower where Carrara spent much of his time.

The two oriel windows were especially appropriated by the cousins. At the one the day was admitted freely, and fell on the various products of the sculptor's skill. Below these were two or three graceful urns, wreathed with cypress; and a vase, but a serpent was coiled around it. In the midst was a nearly finished bust, and the sculptor might well direct the eye to mark the spiritual expression it wore in the purple shadows of evening-so pale, so pure, yet so tender. Another moment, and that transparent cheek would surely redden into blushes. The hair fell in curls over the face, and was gathered up behind in a knot, from which hung some rich ringlets. These, however, did not conceal the haughty turn of the head-erect, like that o: a young Semiramis. The features were somewhat less regular than is usual with an Italian face, but their expression in the marble was full of sweetness.

Over the other window an odoriferous creeping plant had been carefully trained, and the slender leaves and clusters of pale blue flowers were like a fretted arabesque on the clear al amber-hued air. A few books were ranged on one side, a lute leant against the other, near which was a frame half hidden by a piece of unfinished embroidery. In the centre was a small table, and on it was placed a vase filled with roses.

The two cousins were resting on the window-seat. The family likeness between them was slight, though it might be traced in the Greek nose and short upper lip. The youth had the clear olive skin of the south, but warmed with that flushed and variable crimson which is the outward sign of the feverish and sensitive temperament-while the large dark eyes were strangely mournful for one whose years and sorrows had been so few. girl was without a tinge of colour, but very fair; the soft white of the Parian marble strongly contrasted with hair of the most ebon black-at first, the long and ɔ'a

The

dowy lashes made the downcast eye seem also dark, but when raised, it was of that intense and violet blue There so rarely seen but in children, or in April skies. was more energy and, therefore, more hope in her face than in that of Guido. The mind depends more on the body than we like to admit; and Francesca's childhood had been unbroken by the weakness and pain which had so often stretched Guido on a bed of sickness, beside which only affection could have hoped-affection that believes not in death until it be present in the house.

It is as truly as it is beautifully said, that " perfect love casteth out fear," even in our frail nature; and the love between those two orphans was as perfect as human love could be.

Francesca had already her own secret cause of woe. "Why do you weep, dearest Francesca ?" he whispered, in those low and musical tones which only affection can

utter.

For reply she leant her head on his shoulder; and as he threw his arm round her waist, he could feel that strong, though suppressed, emotion shook the light frame which he supported. He led her tenderly to the window, and they sat down together. Suddenly a few notes of distant music arose on the air. Both started as if each had some peculiar interest in the sound. The flush died as rapidly as it came on the cheek of Francesca.

"It is not yet time for vespers-it is only the song of some boatmen."

Guido gazed upon her earnestly. "Francesca, sister, dearest, you weep! Can it be that you will leave us ?"

The girl raised her large eyes, yet shining with tears. Their affectionate reproach was answer enough.

"Alas!" continued he, "we are not happy as we were once wont to be; how indifferent are we grown to so much that we used to love! how altered we are, and in such brief space! No affection have we now for the snow-white doves, or the agile squirrel, in which we once took such delight; we feed them, but it is as a duty, not as a pleasure. No longer do we nurse the last glimmer in the lamp, to pore over the enchanted page of Tasso. No more do we rise with the first red on the sky, and, hurrying to the greenwood, call ourselves knights and enthralled princesses, and our mimic sports adventures. 1 keenly feel how the actual is superseding our imaginative world. Already the weight of the future is upon us; we plan and calculate, rather than hope. We find how little we have to do with our destiny, and yet, forsooth, we seek to direct it. Ever since that English stranger

A shrill, harsh voice from the farther extremity of the chamber interrupted their discourse. "English! English-who names under my roof the only word which is there forbidden? Talk, children, of what you list, but never let my old ears be startled by the mention of those accursed islanders!"

The orphans could ill divine the reasons of the old man's energetic hate. Guido was a sculptor and a lover; he had moulded the bust of Marie Mancini. His evenings were generally spent at the villa of her father, whither he now hasted.

The Marchese was, as usual, closeted in his own chamber, where, since his wife's death at least, he enjoyed that indolent quiet in which he delighted. His daughters were assembled in a large hall, opening on the garden; the two younger were seated by a cage of rare foreign birds from the golden isles of Canary, half-caressing, half-teasing them; the two elder were standing beneath the veranda, seemingly in earnest discourse. It was easy to recognise in the tallest, the original of the bust; but either the look she bent on the young sculptor was not such as she often wore, or else he had given its softness from his own heart, for scorn was native to those features, and disdain familiar to her keen and falcon-like eyes.

"Ah, no!" said the sister, a fair timid-looking girl, who though in reality the elder by two years, yet ap

peared the junior. "I should like a home like a nest, in some quiet valley. Do you remember the fairy tale of the two lovers, who, surrounded by enemies, were saved from the terrible giant who pursued the princess, by being turned into doves? How happily must they have dwelt in the greenwood together!"

"Yes; hunting for worms or barleycorns, hatching their eggs, and trembling at every schoolboy that came

near.

Give me the vest glittering with jewels; the high place at the tournament, the gaze of every knight turned upon me, till even he who fought against the one wearing my colours, felt, as he laid lance in rest, that the strife was vain; how could he combat in honour of that beauty which his own eyes saw was far surpassed?"

"And he who wore your colours?"

"That five hundred should be proud to do: the best and proudest of the land.

Such were the nieces of Mazarin-Henrietta and Marie. While with them the youthful Guido whiled away the hour, his cousin, his sister, sat in the desolate garden of her ancestral palace, on the fragment of a broken pillar, and by her side a young cavalier-one whose long fair hair and clear blue eye spoke of a more northern clime than her own.

"Let my father once see you," urged the youth," and I am sure of his consent; we will then return hither, where you will be the dearer for your brief absence; your grandfather will renounce his strauge antipathy to my country in witnessing your happiness-and-for the stars shine as brightly on Evelyn Abbey, as they do on yonder old tower-who knows but the philosopher's stone may be discovered in England ?"

Francesca let him speak on; she was happy at least while she listened; but silence was no answer, for here, at least, it gave no consent.

"You forget the other side," said she; "what if Sir Robert Evelyn refuse to receive for his daughter the unknown and portionless Italian; how shall I brook to be the first cause of difference between a father and son, to whom the averted look and the harsh word have been hitherto unknown?"

The young Englishman gazed for a moment tenderly on her beautiful face.

"The averted look, the harsh word-such are not for you, Francesca."

"Methinks," returned the Italian, "they would be but my fitting reward. How could your father expect a daughter's love from one who had left her own in his old age left him, too, without his blessing; nay, without his knowledge; his solitude embittered by anxiety for one who had no pity on his age, no memory for his care. Few and feeble are the steps which my father must measure towards the grave; but during those few, I must be at his side, Evelyn. How holy the claim, when age asks from youth but a little time, and a little tendance, to smooth the passage to the tomb !”

Both were silent-a pause which was broken by the convent-clock striking nine.

"It is late!" exclaimed Francesca, forcing a smile. "I must not stay here talking of duty--and all my household ones awaiting me; you do not know what an important person am at home!" but the effort was too much, and dropping her head on Evelyn's arm, she gave way to a burst of weeping.

"Look up, love," at length said her companion; “I would fain link the memory of our parting with something less earthly than word or gift. Do you see yonder large clear star near the moon-it shines here as I have seen it shine a thousand times in my own island-let it be a token between us."

"I shall watch it to-morrow night," whispered Fran

cesca.

A few more hurried words-blessings scarce noted at the time, but dearly remembered afterwards, and they parted. The ilex boughs closed behind the light form of the maiden, while the young Englishman sprang rapidly down the narrow path leading to the inn whence he was to start on the morrow by daybreak.

It matters little to trace the rapidity of the land journey, or the monotony of the sea voyage--alike

unmarked by adventure. Robert Evelyn landed at Southampton, and immediately procured horses for himself and two servants; for his father's house lay some twenty miles inland.

"I would have you look to your pistols, young gentle. man," said the landlord. Robert stared at such advice in England.

He found his native country plunged in civil war, his gay and profligate brother ranged with the cavaliers, while his dying father stood by the cause of freedom and the Commonwealth, and sorrowed over the many errors of the youth who was bringing his gray bairs with sorrow to the grave. Robert Evelyn found courage to tell his father of his love, in the same moment that the Baronet related the political events that had estranged from him his old friend Lord Avonleigh, to one of whose blue-eyed girls he had hoped to see his heir and his favourite son united.

A feeling of disappointment might arise in Sir Robert's mind as he heard this unexpected confession, but he was not one to weigh ambition against affection. He knew how, in his own case, the united heart had made the happy home; and he was sufficiently aware of the strength and depth of his son's character to know that his would be no transitory attachment. What, then, remained but pardon and approval? both of which were instantly given.

"I lament that your Francesca should be a Catholic, chiefly from the circumstances which surround us." "My dearest father, you then forgive me ?"

"What, my sage brother sueing for forgiveness ?-the very time for me to plead as well." And a young cavalier, who had entered unperceived, dropped on one knee beside.

"Francis" they both exclaimed, in equal surprise at the change in, and the suddenness of, his appearance. He had ever ffected great gaiety and richness of apparel, to mark his disdain of the Roundheads, whose custom was the reverse; and his bright auburn hair had been carefully trained in long love-locks. Now he wore a sad coloured cloak and a dark-gray suit, and his hair clipped close to the head, still, however, showing a most unorthodox tendency to curl; but his whole attire and bearing was in strict conformity with the severe and grave fashion of the period.

"Nay, I will increase your wonder," said he, laughing at their evident surprise; "I come from Whitehall, and trust, my dear father, you will approve of my conversion as much as if it had been your own work instead of Sir Harry Vane's, with whom I came over from Paris. He desired me to greet you well in the name of the Lord," added he, in a snuffling tone.

"I understand this disguise, for such I cannot but consider it, as little as I approve of this mockery."

While these scenes were passing in the New Forest, Marie Mancini, one morning, bounding into the old banquetting hall of the Carraras, exclaimed, “O Fran cesca, such news! Come, put aside your embroidery, and congratulate us. My father's scruples have yielded to my uncle's wishes, nay commands, and we depart at once for France."

"Alas!" replied Francesca, "you can scarce expect me to rejoice over an event which will part us so utterly." "Not so," interrupted the gentle voice of Henrietta; "you must join us; the Cardinal's letters are full of kindness he seems anxious to indulge our least wishessurely he will not deny us our earliest and dearest friend. Think, too, what his patronage may effect for Guido."

"And what the young nobles of France may say to your dark eyes!" added Marie.

"Is it true," said Guido, who had just entered, "that you are about to leave Italy-and us?”

"Yes," answered Marie, "we are like the knights of old, about to go forth and conquer."

She paused, for she felt rebuked by the earnest and melancholy gaze of the young sculptor.

It was late in the autumn when the Mancinis departed; and drearily did the ensuing months pass with Francesca and Guido. The first letter they received was from Marie; their next was from Henrietta, who earnestly advised