doux afterwards proposed that they should visit the demesne, and ordered horses to her carriage, inviting Nicette and the baron to accompany them. Her offer was joyfully accepted; and Bardanou expressed himself tolerably well satisfied with the property, talked of improvements, embellishments, &c.; and ended by declaring that he wished to make Rovembourg a truly princely residence.

As they drove round the place, Madame de Randoux gaily expressed her approbation of his plans; the baron gave his assent in a more reserved manner. Bardanou began to suspect that he was jealous of him, and made up his mind that he would by no means spare so unworthy a feeling. Consequently he continued to affect the airs of a grand seigneur, complained of the roads, the bad state of the fences, and the negligence of the foresters. Nicette continually interrupted him by pleading some excuse for those concerned; but Bardanou, who thought that a systematic course of complaint gave a certain air of dignity, stopped her mouth by an injunction not to interfere about matters which were above her comprehension, and the frightened girl dared not say another word upon the subject. On their return to the castle things were still worse. The cidevant hair-dresser found the furniture poor, the attendance inefficient. When the hour of repose drew on, he was conducted to the finest apartment of the castle, where an alcoved bed had been prepared for him. The walls were hung with portraits representing the successive lords of the castle. Bardanou saluted them with a respect amounting almost to veneration, such as he would have felt for his ancestors. In fact he was almost beginning to feel himself the legitimate descendant of the House of Rovembourg. It was late in the night before he fell asleep; and then in dreams he saw himself at the court of the Grand Duke of Baden, his breast covered with crosses and ribbons. When he awoke, the day was already far advanced. He was about to rise in haste, when he suddenly remembered that it was not suitable for a man of his quality to dress himself without assistance. He rung for the valetde-chambre, who immediately appeared, and began to perform all the duties of the toilet, according to the established rules of etiquette. Bardanou, who was not willing to appear ignorant of the habits of a seigneur, bore the whole operation patiently; only, when it came to the hair-dressing part of the arrangement, the remembrance of his former trade overcame his sense of dignity, and snatching

the comb out of the hands of his German valet, he gave him a practical lesson on the coiffure of a gentleman. At length, his toilet being completed, he went down to the garden, where he perceived Madame de Randoux, who was returning from a morning walk. The young widow was dressed in an elegant négligée, and wore on her head one of the Black Forest hats, whose wide brim reached to her shoulders. She advanced, holding in her hand a little bouquet of wild flowers, and singing, half aloud an old Swabian melody. Bardanou hastened forward to salute her, and kissed her hands, as he had seen it done at the theatre. The pretty widow received him very graciously, and gave him an account of her ramble through the adjoining copse. In the course of her conversation Madame de Randoux gave him to understand that she was deeply grieved at her uncle having consented before his death to dispose by lottery of Rovembourg, which had hitherto been an heir-loom in their family. The 200,000 florins which this speculation added to her dowry was far from appearing to her a sufficient recompense for her loss. She would infinitely rather sacrifice 20,000 florins out of her own fortune to enter again into the possession of Rovembourg and its dependencies.

Bardanou understood that this statement of her wishes was meant as an indirect hint to himself; but he had already acquired too great a taste for playing the part of lord of the manor, to be willing to exchange his newly-acquired privilege for a sum of money.

He replied to Madame de Randoux with a smile, that although Rovembourg had changed proprietors, it was not the less entirely at her service, and that he hoped she would continue to dispose of it as freely as she had hitherto done. The widow bowed with a graceful but impatient air.

"I see you do not choose to understand me," she said with a smile: "you wish me to be your guest at Rovembourg, whilst I rather desire you to be mine."

"Of what consequence is it which is the host," gallantly observed the Provençal, "provided only you feel yourself at home?"

"At home!" gaily replied Madame de Randoux: "you would be well punished if I were to take you at your word."

"How so, madame ?"

Because a stranger is always in the way with a newly-married couple."

Bardanou made a movement of surprise. "Pardon me," she added; "perhaps, it is

"And I think that Mademoiselle Nice.te would remind you, if it were necessary, of your engagement; for she would find it difficult to replace you, Monsieur de Bardanou?" The hair-dresser bowed, coloring with joy. It was the first time that this glorious little word (which designated him as noble) had been added to his name. At this moment Madame de Randoux appeared to him radiant with beauty.

"The end of the whole matter is," continued she, "that I must abandon all hope of ever again returning to my beloved Rovembourg; and yet Heaven knows how much I would have sacrificed to retain it. What would you say, Monsieur Bardanou, if I were to own to you that I was on the point of sacrificing the whole happiness of my future life to this one object?"

The Provençal felt almost bewildered, and could only stammer out a few disjointed sentences.

Well, he is an old family friend, who has always been much attached to me, and who even seemed somewhat annoyed at my union with Monsieur Randoux. Since my widowhood, he has rendered me many services, and has repeatedly made me an offer of his hand; but liberty was sweet to me; I shrunk from the thought of a second marriage, and constantly refused him. At length, however, when Rovembourg was put up to lottery, he perceived my distress at the prospect of leaving it, and playfuliy urged me to marry him if he won the château. I consented to do so; and he consequently took tickets to the amount of 50,000 florins. Until the day of drawing I feared his being the winner; but now I am foolish enough to regret its having passed into other hands, and feel as if I should hardly have purchased it too dearly, even at the price of my hand."

A sudden thought flashed across Bardanou's mind: he saw his fortune tripled, his position in life established-it was a second

| prize in the lottery-it would be madness not to take advantage of such an opportunity. He ventured, at first tremblingly, then with more confidence, to hint his wishes to the widow. She listened to him with hesitation, but apparently not altogether with indifference. Intoxicated by the visions of greatness which floated before his mind, he forgot the attachment of the innkeeper's daughter, and the ties which bound them together. He hastened into the château, and sought Nicette; but he did not seem to consider himself called upon even to offer any justification of his conduct.

Forgetting all that had passed between them, he spoke to Nicette as to a protégée whose happiness he would gladly insure. He had no desire to be the only one to profit by the happy chance which had enriched him; he was resolved to give her a liberal portion, and to provide for the happy man whom she might select as her partner for life. The poor young girl listened at first with perplexity; but by degrees, as Bardanou continued speaking, light broke in upon her mind, and with it came a grief so poignant, that she was totally unprepared for it. Still she was silent. With quivering lips and tearful eyes she listened patiently to all the fine promises of the Provençal; and when he had finished, she calmly rose and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going, Nicette ?" inquired Bardanou, startled by her silence.

"I am going to return home with my godfather," was her only reply.

And why must you go so soon?" continued the the hair-dresser.

Nicette made no reply, but she left the room. Bardanou felt heavy at heart. However he might seek to blind himself, the silent reproaches of conscience made themselves heard within, and his feelings protested against the casuistry of his reasoning. He rose from his seat, and traversed the room with hasty strides, vainly striving to recover his wonted calmness. Each moment he grew sadder and more discontented. It seemed a relief to him when he remembered, all on a sudden, that he had not yet tasted any food. He rung the bell; but when the footman appeared, he informed him that every one in the house had already breakfasted. Bardanou, who only wanted some pretext to vent his ill-humor, expressed his displeasure at not having been duly summoned to the morning repast. The footman replied that Monsieur le Baron had given him no orders on the subject. This was the signal for an explo

sion of anger on the part of our Provençal friend.

"The baron!" he exclaimed. "And since when, may I ask, sir, have you learnt that you must await the commands of the baron to attend on me? Which is master herehe or I? To whom does Rovembourg belong?"

"I know nothing about it as yet," the footman brusquely replied.

"Ah, so you know nothing about it!" repeated Bardanou exasperated. "Well, then, I will soon teach you to know, you blackguard. Leave this place; leave it directly, and never venture to let me set eyes on you again."

The footman was about to make some reply, but the baron, who entered at that moment, made a sign to him, and he retired. "You treat this poor fellow very roughly, Monsieur Bardanou," said he, closing the door behind him.

"I shall treat him in whatever way I choose," proudly replied the Provençal; “and I think I have some ground for astonishment that any one should venture to give orders here besides myself."

"In the first place," politely replied the baron, "I would beg of you to observe that, as executor of the former proprietor of Rovembourg, the administration of the affairs of the chateau was placed in my hands until the arrival of the new possessor."

"And I would beg of you to observe," remarked the hair-dresser, "that the new possessor is here."

"And from thence you come to the conclusion"

"That every one should be master in own house."

his

The baron bowed. "Incontestably so," he replied. "It only remains to be seen in whose house we are.'

"In whose house?" repeated the astonished Bardanou. " Surely, Monsieur de Robach cannot pretend ignorance on that head, since it was he who first informed me what number drew the prize?"

"I remember it perfectly.'

"And most probably you have not forgot ten either that this number was 66; and that here it is, Monsieur le Baron, in my possession."

The latter bent forward to look at the ticket which the hair-dresser presented for his inspection. "Pardon me," said he," "but I think Monsieur Bardanou has made a slight mistake."

"How so?"

"What! yours?"

"Yes; the authenticity of the ticket has been recognized by the administration at Frankfort itself; all the formalities have been gone through; here is the deed which places me in full possession of the demesne of Rovembourg."

He handed to the Provençal a paper covered with stamps, seals, and signatures. Bardanou tried to peruse it, but a cloud obscured his sight; his whole frame trembled with emotion; he was obliged to sit down. The fall had been as sudden as the previous elevation, and he felt his strength failing him. However, when the first moment of of bewilderment had passed away, he started up; his depression was succeeded by anger and doubt. He looked the baron full in the face. "Then you deceived me at Oberhausberg ?" he exclaimed.

Say rather that I left you undisturbed in your error," replied M. de Robach.

It was treacherous and cruel," interrupted Bardanou.

"No," interposed the baron, quietly; only a chastisement and a lesson. Seated in the balcony of the hotel, behind a curtain which concealed me, I heard you pronouncing judgment on me without knowing me, and accusing the rich in general of vanity, tyranny, ingratitude, and cupidity, and boasting that you would not yourself fall into these errors if fortune were to favor you in your turn. A curious chance led you to suppose that your desire was actually accomplished. I wished to see whether your principles were as strong as you believed them to be, and therefore suffered the illusion to continue."

"And so, then, it was a delusion after all?" repeated Bardanou, in a tone of despair, whilst he kept his eyes fixed upon the ticket.

"Yes," replied M. de Robach, more seriously; "but what is not an illusion, is the line of conduct you have pursued from the moment in which you imagined yourself to

be the proprietor of Rovembourg. Since yesterday, tell me, I pray you, which of us has shown himself the most full of pride? Which has been most imperious and hard towards his inferiors? In which of us did Madame de Randoux's position awaken feelings of cupidity? And by whom has Nicette been cast off with cold ingratitude because she was poor?" The hair-dresser hung down his head, overwhelmed with shame. "You now see," continued the baron, "that one must learn to be more indulgent towards others, and more distrustful of one's self. All men bear within themselves the germs of the same weaknesses, but different positions may develop them under different forms. You must learn to excuse the rich man when he forgets himself so far as to become hardened by prosperity; and he must forgive his poorer brother if adversity sometimes sours his temper, and excites in him feelings of envy or ill-will. The best means of improving the different classes of society is, not by opposing them to each other, but by seeking to enlighten each according to its respective needs."

"And it was to convey to me this lesson that Monsieur le Baron has exposed me to this reverse of fortune?" bitterly exclaimed Bardonau. "He has been pleased to make me a subject for his observations; he desired to perform an experiment upon living flesh and blood, without disturbing himself about the results to which such an essay might lead."

"Pardon me, Monsieur Bardanou," said M. de Robach; "Madame de Randoux, who bore a part in this mystification, has already

repaired the misery you might have brought upon yourself; and the best proof of her success is, that here she is, bringing you back Nicette."

The god-daughter of old Töpfer made her appearance at this moment with the widow. The latter had found no difficulty in consoling the simple girl by persuading her that Bardanou's rupture with her was only a trial of her love, that the demesne of Rovembourg did not belong to him, and that he loved her better than ever. Nicette believed everything that was told her; and the Provençal, ashamed of his conduct, received her with a tenderness so full of humility, that it affected her even to tears. Whilst this explanation was taking place, the baron was speaking to Master Töpfer, and inducing him to consent to the marriage of Nicette, whom he expressed his intention to portion with a dowry of 8000 florins.

The newly betrothed couple set off the same evening on their return to Oberhausberg, where their marriage was duly celebrated about a month later. The lesson he had received, proved of essential service to Bardanou, without, however, altogether curing him of his disposition to criticise. He was still at times disposed to give way to violent declamation against the rich and the powerful; but at such moments the thought of Rovembourg would suddenly flash across his mind, and at the remembrance of his own weakness, he became more lenient in his judgment of others, and would cheerfully return to the duties of his appointed station.

and to whatever quarter it might seem to tend. Agriculture bears at present the greater part of the burden, and is resolved to bear no more. Commerce is crippled and impotent. To enforce more taxes, even supposing the Parliament so corrupt or so shortsighted as to vote them, would require an accession to our military establishment. Napoleon in Russia employed the greater part of his cavalry in collecting provisions for his army. They did collect a small quantity of provisions, just enough for themselves and their horses; but they were cut to pieces in their retreat. Will history give lessons to children, and never to men?"

THE most interesting epoch in Lord Nelson's life was undoubtedly, both in its duration and details, his connection with the court of Naples. Bastia, St. Vincent's, Copenhagen, the Nile, and a host of other names stand out with a meteoric light, only eclipsed by the ever-memorable Trafalgar. But the friendly support given by the British Admiral to an imbecile and corrupt monarchy, the inglorious attempt on the part of the boastful Neapolitans-of all nations the least warlike-to throw off the yoke of the French, the evasions and restorations of the royal family, the gradual subjugation of England's bravest officer to the wiles and enchantments of the climate and society, and the influence of the attachment there formed upon his subsequent acts and whole career, impart an interest to this portion of his life, that is, in certain points of view, unequalled by any other.

The whole of these transactions stand forth now in their true light as a wasteful expenditure of treasure, talent, courage, and blood, and as especially in every one respect unworthy of a great nation. "No circumstances," says Southey, "could be more unfavorable to the best interests of Europe, than those which placed England in strict alliance with the superannuated and abominable governments of the continent. The subjects of those governments who wished for freedom thus became enemies to England, and dupes and agents of France. They looked to their own grinding grievances, and did not see the danger with which the liberties of the world were threatened. England, on the other hand, saw the danger in its true magnitude, but was blind to these grievances, and found herself compelled to support systems which had formerly been equally the object of her abhorrence and contempt."

The consequence was inevitable failure, yet persistence on our part in a false step once taken. When Jerome Buonaparte was King of Naples, £300,000 sterling was paid to the Sicilian court in yearly subsidy, until the character of the English nation suffered

from so enormous an expenditure upon Neapolitan spies and Calabrian homicides, and a catastrophe was brought about, by the forcible removal from Sicily, by her longtried friends-the British-of Queen Maria Caroline, daughter of Maria Theresa, and with Lady Hamilton, head of the whole offending. Strangely similar was the fate of two of the handsomest and most intriguing women of the day. An obscure death to the one, a friendless and penniless death-bed to the other!

Lord Nelson first visited Naples in 1793, when he was despatched thither by Lord Hood. Mr. Pettigrew speaks in the following terms of the gallant admiral's first acquaintanceship with the king and court, and with Sir William Hamilton, the British minister.

"The king and the court were lavish in their praises of the English-the saviours of Italy,' as they were called. The king paid Nelson the most marked attention, and intrusted to him the handsomest letter that can be penned, in his own hand,' to Lord Hood, and offered 6000 troops to assist in the preservation of Toulon. Here, too, Nelson first saw Lady Hamilton, who afterwards exercised such remarkable influence over him, and which extended to the last moments of his existence. As the principal part of the corresspondence from 1798 to that lamented time will form the chief portion of novelty offered by these volumes, and to which the present pages may be considered as preparatory and essential to complete the series of events which distinguished the career of this illustrious hero, it will not be out of place, nor uninteresting, to insert the account (which, however, it must be recollected, was written under the eye of Lady Hamilton) of the manner and the circumstances under which he was introduced to her :-" Sir William, on returning home, after his first interview with Nelson, told Lady Hamilton that he was about to introduce to her a little man, who could not boast of being very handsome, but who would become the greatest man that England ever produced. I know it from the very few words of conversation I have already had with him. I pronounce that he will one day astonish the world. I have never entertained any officer at my house, but I am determined to bring him here; let him be put in