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In another minute ropes are flung round him; and while one man lifted back Ottilia, speechless and passive as a baby, Augustus was drawn forth to the spot which she had just occupied.

A fervent "Thank God?" escaped his lips, as he lay back, trembling in every limb against the knees of the men. A flask of whiskey was put to his lips; he drank, and then turned hastily towards Ottilia. "She wants it more than I do," he said. "Where is she?"

"The lady, sir? I am afraid the lady is ill," said one of the men, stepping back towards her with the lantern. She was halflying, half-sitting on the ground, and leaning on her elbow; while a handkerchief was pressed to her mouth, and in the light of the lantern they saw that this handkerchief was marked with patches deep and dark of hue.

"May Mr. Bryant come in, dear Fraulein?" said a little girl, half opening the door of a bedroom, at the window of which lay on a sofa a shadowy form, with a face of marble whiteness; "he wants to see how you

are."

"Yes, he may come in," said Ottilia, in a voice which was almost a whisper; and her chest was seen for a minute to heave more quickly, and the transparent hand made some slight arrangement among the frilled draperics.

"You are better to-day, are not you?" said Augustus, coming with quiet step, and a voice of grave, tender respect, towards the invalid. "I was so glad to hear Dr. Mackay's report; he says he has great hopes now."

"Has he? hopes of what?" she said with a faint smile.

"Why, of your getting well; he says some of the worst symptoms have abated." "You do not think I shall get well; no one can really," she answered.

"Oh! I do-I do, indeed. If I did not, I think I should lose my senses."

and day, for his special mercy in sending me to you. It is all just as I would have it."

But

"You are too good for this world, or any one in it, Ottilia; and I cannot look on you without shame at thinking of the past. I am come," he continued, with some effort and agitation of manner, "to say something that I have wanted to say for some time; but when I saw you the first time you were not well enough to hear it. If you will forgive me all my-all my bad behavior, I will try to make amends for the past."

An expression, not of surprise, nor of pleasure, but of suffering, passed over her face.

"How long did you continue to love me?" she asked.

"Oh, a long time. I was miserable at first, Ottilia, and my head was full of plans, night and day, how to get at you; then, you know, my commission came, and I had to get ready, and to go to Malta; and, you know, when a fellow has a lot of things of that sort in his mind he cannot always think so much about love as he did before. But I never meant really to forsake you, Ottilia. I always meant to look you up some day or other. Then, you know, when my father died, there was such a deal of business to settle, and my mother wanted me; and somehow the time slipped by, and I thought you had probably forgotten all about me long ago. But I see now what a scoundrel I was, and how ungratefully I behaved to you, and that it is my duty to make up to you all I can; so if you will take me thus late in the day, I will try to make you happy, though I know I do not deserve you?”

Though he put it in the form of a question, he seemed to have little doubt of the answer; and after he had finished speaking, he put out his hand to take her's.

"You ask me to marry you?" she said, letting him have her hand. "Yes, I do, Ottilia."

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August, I am dying; but if I knew I should be well to-morrow, I should say, I

"Why?" she said, fixing her eyes on his will never marry you."

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Why not?" he said, with some surprise; "you love me still, don't you."

"I love you still, August; I have loved you ever since the day I told you so on the down at Woodbridge; but you do not love me, and so I could never marry you.”

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Not love you!" he said, with real emotion. "Not love you, Ottilia? when you have be

haved like an angel to me, when you have hers a love like-like what woman's love saved my life! Never shall I forget how you gripped my hand and held me up, and how you prayed for me as I did not think before any human being could pray. And now you say I do not love you!"

"You love me, dear, with such a love as is fit for a dying woman; and this is well; for if it had been another sort of love, I should soon have had to grieve you. But, August, I know more than you think. I have not lain here so long without questioning about you; and Mrs. Arbuthnot, who knows nothing concerning the past, has told me she believes you love a young lady-a good, beautiful maiden -who is coming to stay here soon."

"I have said nothing to her," he said, looking down gloomily; "I am ready to give her up for you."

“And you think I would take this?” she said, while a faint color for a moment came to her face."Oh, August! will you never know what true love really is? But I did not mean to say this; I want to tell you how glad I am to hear of this love; how I have prayed, since I knew of it, that it may be a true, heart-whole love on your side, and on

usually is.; and that you will go hand in hand through a happy, happy life on earth towards heaven! And, oh, August! if spirits are allowed to come near those they have left behind them, I will keep so near you both, I will so love you both, and watch over you and your children, and rejoice in your happiness!

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The North American Review, April, 1863. | by the Admiralty, as identifying the bearer of The National Quarterly Review, March, 1863. the new name with the bearer of the old name, -There is not much ability or interest in either which is the only object of the Queen's Letters of these representatives of American periodical Patent; and officers of the army and navy have literature. They both preserve a profound silence been permitted to change their names on the bists as to the position and prospects of the war, pre- and to draw pay under their new denomination." ferring to gratify their readers with a number of (Seton on Heraldry in Scotland, p. 407.) The rather thin disquisitions on general subjects, above statement is made on the authority of Mr. most of which are devoid alike of the charm and Lorimer, Professor of Public Law in the Univerthe danger of novelty. Perhaps the most notice-sity of Edinburgh. "Letters Patent" are issued able point in connection with them is that each under the great seal, and are named in error for contains a short notice of Russell's "Diary North" Warrant or License under the sign-manual.” and South," which, while taking a comparatively The statement, however, shows that the laws of low view of the ability of the writer, deprecates the storm of indignation with which the work has been received in the Northern States.-Spectator.

LORD CLYDE.-"The Lord Lyon (the king-atarms in Scotland) will not, as is popularly believed, grant authority to any individual to change his name; but on the narrative that he has already changed it, he will grant him arms under his new name; and in the patent, or if desired, in an extract from the record, he will certify the fact of the change. This certificate has been recognized both at the War Office and

England and Scotland are alike, namely, that surnames may be assumed and will be officially recognized when adopted without a royal license. The present Lord Clyde is the lawful son of "John McLiver and of Agnes Campbell, of Glasgow," and he is thus registered on the list of births in that city. He entered the army as

Colin Campbell," and there can be no doubt that his promotion would have been impeded if he had retained the name of "Mc Liver," which he abandoned for that of "Campbell. (Seton on Heraldry, p. 392.) If young Colin McLiver had not been able to renounce this surname without cost to himself, the country might have lost the services of one of its greatest generals.

From a Correspondent of The Spectator.
A FEW NOTES ON A RECENT VISIT TO

PARIS.

May 21st, 1863.

of doing so on the part of the men at the same table.

2d. An evident, though still mild revival of political feeling, as compared with my recollections of eighteen months ago. One or

SIR,-You ask me to give you the "im-two political" posters were prominent on pressions" of a late visit to Paris.

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every wall amidst those of theatres, railways, and houses or lands to sell-M. Guéroult's "Etudes Politiques (I think that is the title), and “Un Drame Electoral," by M. Gagneur. When the ordinance fixing the date of the elections was in turn posted up, you could distinguish the place from a distance by the readers, working men mostly, who were sure to be about it. More marvellous still, passing through the Luxembourg one morning, I heard two working men, seated on a bench, talking politics aloud, and no spy in or out of uniform was listening to them.

Owing to the peculiar circumstances of my journey, I found myself inhabiting a quarter of Paris which I had hardly ever passed through before, quite at the top of the Faubourg St. Jacques, close to the former "Boulevard Extérieur,' It is a sort of Parisian Mount Athos, or Holy Mountain; convents, male and female, on all sides; the interstices being filled up with schools and hospitals. You can scarcely go into the street without meeting priests, monks, friars, nuns, sisters, on foot or in carriages. Low-browed, coarse-looking capuchins, with their cordgirdles, seem quite at home on the pavement; This observation was abundantly confirmed girls consecrated to the Virgin (vouées au to me by the few intimate friends whom I blanc) do their best to dirty themselves or saw, but who, belonging to different profesavoid dirtying themselves in the gutters; sions and shades of opinion, might, within the noise of bells and children's hymns (sung certain limits, serve as representative men in in loud rasping tones) scarcely ceases by day, their way. Some years ago, with the excepnor that of bells by night; in the still plenti- tion of Paris and a few large towns, people ful and often beautiful gardens the favorite did not dare to put forward opposition canclerical tree, the arbre de Judée (which Prot- didates. Now, I heard on all sides of solicestant England has so cruelly transmogrifieditations addressed to men of independent into the Judas tree), is in full blossom. In- opinions, who had sat in Louis Philippe's deed, notwithstanding the immediate neigh-chambers, in the republican assemblies, by borhood of a railway terminus, there is a strange semi-rural look about the quarter, and the very nightingale comes still to sing on the trees of the Boulevards; I heard him once with my own incredulous ears.

Now, although an omnibus leads straight down from this clerical stronghold through the Rue Montmartre and the busiest quarters of Paris, and up again to the Barrière Pigale on the other side of the town, this is pretty nearly a terra incognita to half Paris at least, as it was to me and, indeed, so completely is it out of Paris morally, that the residents -the old folk, at least-speak still of going into Paris from thence. And as I had but little time for such journeys, it was not much that I could see with my own eyes. One or two points, however, struck me.

1st. The absolute popular indifference to all the display of surrounding Romanism. I never saw a single working man, and scarcely any one at all, notice or touch his hat to a priest, monk, or friar. So far from this, I happened one day to give a good look to a priest of rather remarkable physiognomy, and the poor man instantly touched his hat to me, as if he must know me, since I deigned to look at him. In a house with convents in front and rear, though the Friday fast appeared to be observed as a custom by the women, there was not the slightest pretence

their old constituents, urging them to come forward, and for the most part pledging success. M. de Persigny's forbiddance of election committee meetings, instead of rousing indignation, was rather hailed with pleasure as a confession of weakness. Still, although the invitation to stand had been addressed to some of the men who can be least expected to swear faithfulness to the emperor, such as poor Greppo, so shamefully prosecuted without a tittle of evidence against him last year, the prevalent feeling was that the hour of the men of advanced opinions was not yet come,

that the oath imposed upon candidates as a condition precedent to their standing should exclude every man who may accept the empire as a fact, but not as a right. Hence there is a general acquiescence in the candidateship of the men of the "old parties," of the old left centre" especially, with Thiers at their head, that clever, experienced, eloquent, idealess "left centre," master of tongue-fence and parliamentary use and wont, whose utter barrenness was the real ruin of Louis Philippe, whose utter blindness and vanity were the making of Louis Napoleon. For the work of destruction of the next two or three years these men are amply sufficient; it is but fair that they should undo their own mischief. There are, indeed, two or three. upright and respected men among them, such

as Dufaure, whose honesty may add weight | very different tempers of mind. to the adroitness of their chiefs.

"It seems

The fact of the rapid spread of republican principles, which I had already heard asserted eighteen months ago on the best authority as to the working classes, both of the provincial towns and of Paris, was confirmed to me from a wholly different quarter, as respects the professional classes. Still, I could see that Orleanist feelings were yet very strong among the middle-aged and older men and women. The marriage of the Duke de Chartres to his cousin is especially rejoiced in by these, as preserving the purity and nationality of the Orleans blood.

On the whole, I am strongly confirmed in the conviction impressed upon me in my last visit, that the second empire is decidedly in its period of decline. It is rapidly losing its prestige of terror, and is felt more and more as a nuisance rather than as a bugbear.

we are to be guarded by Arabs whilst our I need hardly say how far more deeply own men are sent to perish in Mexico," said than ever I was impressed with the utter one. "You see how little trust he is beginrootlessness of the empire. In vain does Na-ning to have in our soldiers," said another, poleon III. upset all Paris, as if he wished to since he actually requires Arabs to garrison leave nothing behind him but what proceeds Paris." from himself; the absolutely universal feeling is that this is simply provisional and cannot last. It is curious, indeed, how this provisional character stamps itself even on material improvements. You may see in some places quite new houses, scarcely three or four years old, pulled down for newly devised embellishments to the capital. At one entrance of the Luxembourg Gardens, near where the taking away of the pleasant old" Fontaine de Médicis" has caused, probably, more heart-burnings than any other single public work in Paris, the strange sight is seen of three different levels of street side by side,each official and compulsory in its time, but as ugly and inconvenient as they might be dangerous in their present juxtaposition. One might also say that an ironic fate compels this man, who pretends to have "closed the era of revolutions," to keep the material idea of revolution constantly before his people. Speak to a Parisian, man or woman, poor or well-to-do, of the alterations in Paris, and it is three to one that within five minutes you hear the expression, "Tout est en révolution." The personal indifference towards his dynasty (let the newspapers say what they please) is complete. I passed one morning in the Tuileries whilst the prince imperial, a tutor and a lackey, were alone on the terrace by the river side. Every one must have known him, yet no one stopped for one instant to look at him; no one gave him more than a single glance; very many passed by, I believe designedly, without so much as looking up. Compare this with the way in which with us the public gaze follows any member of the royal family as soon as recognized.

Of the deepening hatred towards the present rule indeed, I saw one striking witness in men's feelings as respects the Mexican war. Not only is this universally condemned, as being alike senseless and iniquitous, but for the first time I heard Frenchmen actually wish for disaster to the French arms. The general policy of these distant wars is, indeed, disliked by all; whilst another event, quite trifling as yet in its proportions, seems to have aroused very bitter feelings,-the bringing over of a company of Arabs to do garrison duty in Paris. Although this measure had been prepared and announced long beforehand, and perhaps was taken with no specially evil intentions, it was quite singu.lar to see what effect it had produced on men wholly unacquainted with each other, and of

The old Association movement, so many a time pronounced extinct ex cathedrâ by Frenchmen and foreigners, is not yet stopped. A new working tailors' association is preparing to start next winter. The working builders, who were in a bad way last year, seem to have got well afloat again. A body destined to act as a bank of association is all but constituted, and amongst other distinguished men who take an interest in it, and are likely, in some way or other, to be connected with it, I heard the name of M. Elisée Reclus, who has written many admirable articles for the Deux Mondes, and, indeed, I hear, lately contributed two papers on our English cooperative bodies to the Revue Germanique. The great drawback to the work is the want of education among the working men. amount of absolute illiterateness in France is something still enormous, and would be shameful to the nation were it under any but a despotic rule. I had a practical instance of this in the fact that I literally, from the house I lived in, had to walk for a quarter of an hour down the Rue St. Jacques before I came to a stationer's shop, and one-half of this was devoted to umbrella-mending;-this, mind you, in a characteristically educational quarter. I do not believe there is any part of London where I should have had to go half the distance.

The

I have been speaking of the Parisian working men. I believe I can answer for it that, notwithstanding all the efforts made by the Second Empire to occupy them, feed them, coax them, they are just as far as ever from being favorable to it. Of course it is far

worse with the provincial ones. The 40,000 Norman cotton-weavers out of employ know well that public subscriptions for the relief of their distress have been damped as much as possible by official policy. Those of Alsace know that it is only owing to the public spirit of their masters, as well as to the more favorable economical conditions of the trade in that quarter (finer numbers spun, finer stuffs woven), that they are still at work. St. Etienne knows as well that the comparative ruin of its trade (from 15,000 to 20,000 of the best workmen are reckoned to have left the place within the last few years) is owing to the amalgamation of the coal companies, effected, it is said, only through unsparing bribery in high quarters, and the result of which has been to raise the price of coal from five to thirty francs a load as the sole means of paying dividend on a grossly exaggerated capital.

Let me conclude by an anecdote of '48, told me from personal experience by a friend of nearly thirty years standing; one who, though an advanced Liberal in feeling, has no sympathy with the special social tendencies of that revolution. He was president of a club-as who was not in Paris in those days? —and a workman came to him: "Sir, I want to have your opinion. I have a quarrel with an old friend. He came to me some while ago: 'What good wind brings you?' said I. I have no work, and I have no more bread.' So much the better,' said I; I have.' So I gave him half what I had. Not long after I found myself in the same case, and I went to see him: What good wind brings you?' said he. 'Well,' said I, I have no work and no bread now.' All right,' said he, just now I have some.' And he brought out a hunch, and was about to cut it in two. That wont do,' said I, 'your hunch is twice as big as mine was; cut it here.' 'No,' said he, you gave me half yours, you must take half mine.' We disputed for some time, and I would not take his big half, and he would not give me less, and since then we do not speak to one another; for I say he does not practice equality, and he says I do not.’

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Perhaps those days of feverish social enthusiasm, when two half-starved friends could quarrel as to the practical meaning of equality in sharing one's all, are past, never to return. But the class from which such examples can proceed is, depend upon it, the very marrow of the French nation. He who imagines any permanent political future for France, in which the ouvrier element should not have its due place, is building in the air.

From The Spectator, 6 June.

MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN. PARIS has given the Moniteur its first warning; that seems, in brief, the result of the French elections. Throughout the provincial districts, wherever the electors could be influenced, or coerced, or isolated, the Administration has secured a complete and, possibly, not difficult victory. The Imperialist majority is still overwhelming, something like ten to one, and the determined effort made by the Opposition only makes their defeat more conspicuous and more galling. Even the minor cities have disappointed expectation, Bordeaux, for instance, having rejected Dufaure, whose massive oratory might have told even more heavily than Thiers's tinselly though effective displays, or Jules Simon's biting jests. She has sent a Liberal, but not the man the Administration feared. Casimir Perier, whose election seemed certain, was not returned after all, and M. de Montalembert's defeat was almost ignominious-a fact the more remarkable, because bitter Ultramontanes like Kolb-Bernard and Plichon have been restored to their seats in spite of official condemnation. Judged by the ordinary constitutional rules, the Government may fairly exult in a complete if not overwhelming triumph.

And yet France and Europe and M. de Persigny all alike believe that the empire has received a shock, and are right in so believing, for Paris has not endorsed the decision of the departments. We are not about to repeat the stale epigram that Paris is France, for, were it true, France would not to-day be at the mercy of Napoleon, or French electors doubting whether it is "safe" to vote as they will. Paris is not France, any more than the brain is the body; but then that which the brain wills to do, the body, unless paralyzed, sooner or later does, and for three hundred years Paris has always anticipated the final decision of France. It is the representative city, to which all that is most able, and ambitious, and intellectual, and noble, and vile between the Rhine and the Pyrenees gravitates as by a natural law. The Parisians do and their lead in these elections is in the dinot govern the French, but they lead them, The nine divisions of Paris, separated by deep rection the Government most strictly forbade. gulfs of circumstance and habit and conviction-for what is there in common but the sky and the cemeteries between St. Germain and St. Antoine ?-have discovered a bond of union in resistance to the existing régime. Orleanist or Republican, Thiers or Picard, doubted like Havin or trusted like Favre, any candidate has been welcome, provided only he hated the creed professsed by the minister of the interior. So vast is the majority against Government, that if we deduct from.

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