"Insufferable insolence!" cried Lord Luxton "Claudia ".

"Hush! hush!"

"How is it possible to do anything for this man?

crouching behind our ancestors, and concealing give you the satisfaction of knowing that your our insignificance under coats of arms, we stand kindness and generosity have not been in vain." forward, each according to his own lights, and Robert bowed deferentially as he concluded and look the heavens in the face. And even so are withdrew. we judged by public opinion; and even so by the loftier, nobler spirits of the small fraction of the people to which such as you belong. Worth, talent, energy, are now more valuable than a whole gallery of family portraits-which serve only to afford a means of comparison, in most cases a humiliating one, between the feeble descendant and the strong ancestor. Look at us both, my lord, at this instant, and say which has the more cause for pride-I who have kept my engagement, or you who have forfeited yours? I, who give you my time and labor as an alms, or you who pretended to purchase them ?-I, the individual man destined to carve out my own fortune, or you, swathed as helplessly and hopelessly in by-gone generations as a mummy in its folds of perfumed linen?"

"As for you, Miss Falcontower, I can only lament the blindness which darkens a fine spirit, and withdraws to mean and trivial objects those noble powers that if properly directed would achieve greatness and renown. To you I owe more than the interesting study you have your self presented: I owe the materials for large and enlightened views of a section of life which is hidden from the vulgar in myths and symbols; I owe those revealings of the social world which one like me could acquire only through the teachings of an accomplished and high-bred woman. This debt I shall probably never be able to repay; but it may chance that I shall one day make such use of what I have learned as will

"Hush, I say, hush!" She was looking towards the door, and threw back her hair impetuously from her ears to listen the more intently. An expression of doubt, wavering, terror was in her face, as she seemed to count the receding footfalls that would have been inaudible to ears not abnormally excited. Presently this expression changed, rapidly but not instantaneously, into courage, confidence. resolve. Then a single expiration of the breath seemed to burst the chains of years, and give her impatient spirit to life and freedom; a joyful and dazzling illumination overspread her face; she bounded with the elasticity of a girl to the door, flung it wide open, tossed up her curved arms laterally to give her lungs play, and as she threw forward her chest, give forth her magnificent voice in a long, wild, exulting cry

"Mr. Oaklands!" The house rang with the sound, which quivered with a thrill between pain and pleasure in the ears that heard it.

But it was lost to him for whom it was intended in the loud shutting of the street-door, and after a terrible moment of suspense, her highwrought feelings collapsed, and Clandia for the first time in her life fainted, and fell senseless upon the floor.

From Chambers's Journal.
CROSS-THINKERS.

FOR what end it may have been designed, we cannot tell; but the fact is certain that, in all questions, great and small, public and private, there is a class of minds which are sure to embrace the side of weakest argument. For a palpable and certain truth such minds have no relish. A great broad principle, which recommends itself to the common sense of the bulk of mankind, is, in their eyes, an impertinence. In a doctrine everywhere prevalent and popular, they see only vulgarity. A deduction irresistibly logical, only excites in them the suspicion of some profounder error. If, on the other hand, you tell them something extremely hard to believe, they will make a manful struggle to swallow it, and probably will succeed. As Milton's Satan says: Evil, be thou my good,' so they cry: 'Sophism, be thou our reason!'

may be right, but I attract no attention. But if I stand up by myself, or with some small party or sect, and declare my attachment to some strangely heteroclite ideas, I at least do not pass notelessly. The mass feel a little troubled by my dissent, and perhaps even think it worth while to take some pains to bring me over to their way of thinking. One becomes somebody in these circumstances.

It is also observable of this class of thinkers, that even when they concur with the majority in any profession of faith, they quite disregard all the leading and important points of the system, and fasten exclusively upon some merely exter nal or accidental peculiarities. A fundamental doctrine which most men feel goes down into the profoundest depths of their moral being, has no attraction for them; but they are careful to see the upholstery and millinery of the system preserved in all their ancient integrity. Just because a thing looks of no consequence, they The pious Jesuit who said: 'I believe it be-think it important. Were it really to become of cause it is impossible,' was a type of this class. consequence, they would desert it. Any one can believe the possible-there is no In any new political attitude of the nation, our merit in that; but to accept in unshrinking faith friends are always seen, like Harry Wynd in the something utterly incongruous with experience Scotch story, fighting for their own hand. While and common sense, is to do that which few can the country at large concurs in thinking the war do, and to do it is, accordingly, great glory. with Russia necessary and just, however much There is some vanity in the matter, after all. If to be deplored, Mr. Urquhart stands out, a soliI go with the multitude, my voice is lost in it. I'tary dervish, proclaiming that, in the secret

reality of the case, it is a conspiracy of the Brit- ed in preventing real intellectual and moral adish ministers with the Czar against Turkey! Ac- vancement, the credit of all the good which has cording to him, we are to have a terrific war been accomplished. The fact is, a true cause is merely to mask an ulterior design totally oppo- a vulgar stupid thing, which anybody can appresite to what appears! Cross-thinkers never hes- ciate. If you wish to make anything for youritate as to the amount of wickedness of which self out of the case, you must strive to establish they believe human nature to be capable. To some no-cause as a cause-always the more merit make out some favorite improbability, they would the less tenable your propositions. Let no one not hesitate to consider it possible, regarding a be afraid of wanting support for his conclusions public man, that he would coolly order the sac-in favor of such improbabilities. Just in proporritice of two millions of fellow-creatures for the tion to the untenableness of his doctrines, he will gratification of a whim; but they are sure to re-be the more certain to have a party rallying lieve from such charges all the real villains of the round him, to proclaim his amazing profoundness play, and to attach the possible guilt only to of view, his irresistible logic, his almost supersome individual noted for his philanthropy and natural sagacity. good intentions.

Cross-thinking has of course a literature of its An almost superhuman suspiciousness is a own, and also a system of criticism. One Coryconstant feature of the Cross-thinker. In his pheus of the set writes a huge history, in which headlong tendency to suspect, he produces the everything is traced to the least operative causes, most curious medley of ideas. He will proclaim and the lessons of all the principal events are of some noted demagogue, who has not a particle duly misread. Another is the oracle of a jourof religion in his constitution, that he is an em-nal, which for a long course of years has done all issary of the pope. He considers Mr. Cobden as it can to resist whatever is calculated for the secretly in the pay of the Czar. The Jesuits good of the community. In Cross-thinking critare figures in most of his plots; and the lessicism, you find all the swans of the great public they are seen in anything, he deems their pres-described as geese, and all the geese as swans. ence there the more certain. According to him, Such was the case with Horace Walpole, of an author is not the author of his own books. whom it is remarked that, all through his corresThere is always some person behind backs who pondence, he speaks favorably of only the secondwrites them for him. He may write some other rate geniuses. From his whimsical, jealous, and body's books, but not his own When the Cross- illiberal mind, it clearly appears that a manly apthinker sees a political opponent taking a course preciation of the true wits was not to be expect which shows a remarkable degree of moral cour-ed. The Cross-thinkers, however, are not always age, and obviously exposes him to damage in his themselves of mean account in literature. It is worldly affairs, he feels assured there is some rather a sad reflection, that some of the men of transcendental selfishness at the bottom of it. the most brilliant literary powers rank among When the three thousand English clergy withdrew those who devote themselves on all occasions to from their charges, rather than submit to the Act make the worse appear the better reason. Unof Uniformity, he would have been quite clear fortunately to possess eloquence is not necessarithat they had good grounds for expecting to ly to possess also the inclination to use it solely better their incomes by what they were doing. for good ends. Crotchet and vanity take the diA very martyr burning at the stake would scarce-rection of but too much of it. The very fact ly get credit for sincerity with our Cross-thinker. There would be great reason to suspect that he had been all along acting a part, and at the last moment had expected to be reprieved.

that it is much easier to make a stir with eccentric opinions, than with those which have the support of truth and general approbation, is the cause why an immense proportion of the talent In considering by what means any great result which arises is from the first perverted, and ever has been brought about, our friends overlook all afterwards misused. And we hardly know a the prominent and great causes, and seldom fail. more sad spectacle than that of a man of brilliant with an air of mysterious sagacity, to draw our gifts being thus led into false relations to his attention to certain others so small as to appear species, and condemned at the end to look back almost indifferent, or which possibly you are upon efforts of which the best that can be said is more inclined to rank as obstructions. For ex-only this, that they have not been sufficiently ample, they would never think of attributing the powerful to extinguish truth, or obstruct the best points of the general character of the gen-course of civilization. tlemen of England to either the inherent quali Cross-thinking has a great charm for young ties of the stock, or what may be sound and good minds. It is quaint and striking, often drollin the education to which they are subjected. looks like something to which the few are priviThey would profess to see some vast influence leged-is free from that vulgarity which is so apt for good in the fagging-system of the public to beset any great cause in which the sympathies schools-that system by which a boy of fourteen and interests of multitudes are concerned. Hence is entitled to tyrannize over a boy of ten, and young men of talent are extremely liable to fall make a menial of him, as if it could be good for into the habit, and so to get into connection with any one to be either oppressed or an oppressor.professions and parties from which they cannot With a perverse ingenuity which would be amusing if it were not so sadly out of harmony with truth, our friends will argue for a virtue in that which is in reality a vice. They will give to a base, old, bad thing, which only has not succeed

afterwards shake themselves free. It is for them a great misfortune, for generally it tends to frustrate the benefits of what talent and education they may possess. Powers and accomplishments that might have advanced good objects for the

public, are then spent in a necessarily futile at- talents misapplied. Even from those who have tempt to obstruct them. Some false glory may all along been applauding, there will only be result. In other words, a foolish few will ap- found that kind of support which the reckless plaud, while the majority look on with wonder gets from their friends, and the vicious from the and pity. But in the long-run, all is found to companions of their iniquity. The final sentence have been barren, and wanting of true savor. is" Here lies a man who chose to live in The world will at the utmost accord the meed of vain."

From Household Words.
COMPANY MANNERS.

VICTOR COUSIN, the French philosopher, has
undertaken a new task within the last few years.
Whether as a relaxation from, or a continuation
of, his study of metaphysics, I do not know, but
he has begun to write the biographies of some
of the celebrated French women of the seven-
teenth century. In making out his list he is
careful to distinguish between authoresses and
"femmes d'esprit," ranking the latter infinitely
the higher in every point of view. The first of
his series is Jacqueline Pascal, the sister of Blaise,
known at Port Royal as the Sister Euphemia-
a holy, pure, and sainted woman. The second
whom the grave philosopher has chosen as a
subject for his biography is that beautiful, splen-
did sinner of the Fronde, the fair-haired Duchess
de Longueville. He draws the pure and perfect
outlines of Jacqueline Pascal's character with a
severe and correct pencil; he paints the lovely
duchess with the fond, admiring exaggeration of
a lover. The wits of Paris in consequence have
written the following epitaph for him :-" Here
lies Victor Cousin, the great philosopher, in love
with the Duchess de Longueville, who died a
century-and-a-half before he was born."

them, and we can only see them as he chooses us to do): Madame de Sablé, friend of the resplendent fair-haired Duchess de Longueville, had weekly meetings which M. Cousin ranks far above the more pretentious Saturdays of Mademoiselle Scudery. In short, the last page of his memoir of Madame de Sablé-where we mat ter-of-fact English people are apt to put in praise of the morals and religion of the person whose life we have been writing-is devoted to this acme of praise. Madame de Sablé had all the requisites which enabled her "tenir un salon" with honor to herself and pleasure to her friends.

Apart from this crowning accomplishment, the good French lady seems to have been commonplace enough. She was well-born, well-bred, and the company she kept must have made her tolerably intelligent. She was married to a dull husband, and doubtless had her small flirtations after she early became a widow; M. Cousin hints at them, but they were never scandalous or prominently before the public. Past middle life, she took to the process of "making her salvation," and inclined to the Port-Royalists. She was given to liking dainty things to eat, in spite of her Jansenism. She had a female friend that she quarrelled with, off and on, during her life. And (to wind up something like Lady O'Looney, of famous memory) she knew how "tenir un salon." M. Cousin tells us that she was remarkable in no one thing or quality, and attributes to that simple fact the success of her life.

Even the friends of this Duchess, insignificant in themselves, become dear and illustrious to Cousin for her fair sake. It is not long since he contributed an article on Madame de Sablé to the Revue des Deux Mondes, which has since Now, since I have read these Memoirs of been published separately, and which has sug- Madame de Sablé, I have thought much and deepgested the thoughts and fancies that I am now ly thereupon. At first I was inclined to laugh at going to lay before the patient public. This the extreme importance which was attached to Madame de Sablé was, in her prime, an habitual this art of receiving company,"-no! that transguest at the Hôtel Rambouillet, the superb habi-lation will not do-" holding a drawing-room tation which was the centre of the witty and is even worse, because that implies the state and learned as well as the pompous and pedantic reserve of royalty;-shall we call it the art of society of Paris, in the days of Louis the" Sabléing?" But when I thought of my expeThirteenth. When these gatherings had come rience in English society; of the evenings dreadto an end after Madame de Rambouillet's death, ed before they came, and sighed over in recollecand before Molière had turned the tradition tion, because they were so ineffably dull; I saw thereof into exquisite ridicule, there were several that to Sablé well did require, as M. Cousin im attempts to form circles that should preserve plied, the union of many excellent qualities and some of the stately refinement of the Hôtel Ram-not-to-be-disputed little graces. I asked some bouillet. Mademoiselle Scudery had her Satur- French people if they could give me the recipe, days; but, an authoress herself, and collecting for it seemed most likely to be traditional, if not around her merely clever people, without regard still extant in their nation. I offer to you their to birth or breeding, M. Cousin does not hold the ideas, fragmentary though they be, and then I idea of her Saturdays in high esteem. Madame will tell you some of my own; at last. perhaps, de Sablé, a gentlewoman by birth, intelligent with the addition of yours, oh most worthy enough doubtless from having been an associate readers! we may discover the lost art of Sableof Menage, Voiture, Madame de Sevigné, and ing. others in the grand hotel (whose meetings must have been delightful enough at the time, though that wicked Moliere has stepped between us and

Said the French lady: "A woman to be successful in Sabléing must be past youth, yet not past the power of attracting. She must do this

by her sweet and gracious manners, and quick, ready tact in perceiving those who have not had their share of attention, or leading the conversation away from any subject which may give pain to any one present." "Those rules hold good in England," said I. My friend went on: "She should never be prominent in anything; she should keep silence as long as any one else will talk; but when conversation flags, she should throw herself into the breach with the same spirit with which I notice that the young ladies of the house, where a ball is given, stand quietly by till the dancers are tired, and then spring into the arena to carry on the spirit and the music till the others are ready to begin again."

"But," said the French gentleman, "even at this time, when subjects for conversation are wanted, she should rather suggest than enlarge -ask questions rather than give her own opinions."

"To be sure," said the lady. "Madame Recamier, whose salons were the most perfect of this century, always withheld her opinions on books, or men, or measures, until all around her had given theirs; then she, as it were, collected and harmonized them, saying a kind thing here, and a gentle thing there, and speaking ever with her own quict sense, till people the most opposed learnt to understand each other's point of view, which it is a great thing for opponents to do."

"Then the number of the people whom you receive is another consideration. I should say not less than twelve, nor more than twenty," continued the gentleman. "The evenings should be appointed-say weekly, fortnightly at the beginning of January, which is our season. Fix an early hour for opening the room. People are caught then in their freshness, before they become exhausted by other parties."

"The lady spoke: "For my part, I prefer catching my friends after they have left the grander balls or receptions. One hears then the remarks, the wit, the reason, and the satire which they had been storing up during their evening of imposed silence, or of ceremonious speaking." "A little good-humored satire is a very agreeable sauce," replied the gentleman, "but it must be good-humored, and the listeners must be good-humored; above all, the conversation must be general, and not the chat, chat, chat up in a corner, by which the English so often distinguish themselves. You do not go into society to exchange secrets with your intimate friends; you go to render yourselves agreeable to every one present, and to help all to pass a happy evening."

66

Strangers should not be admitted," said the lady, taking up the strain. "They would not start fair with the others; they would be ignorant of the illusions that refer to conversations on the previous evenings; they would not understand the-what shall I call it-slang? I mean those expressions having relation to past occurrences, or by-gone witticisms common to all those who are in the habit of meeting.

Madame de Duras and Madame Recamier never made advances to any stranger. Their saloons were the best that Paris has known in this generation. All who wished to be admitted,

had to wait and prove their fitness by being agreeable elsewhere; to carn their diploma, as it were, among the circles of these ladies' acquaintances; and at last, it was a high favor to be received by them."

They missed the society of many celebrities by adhering so strictly to this unspoken rule,” said the gentleman.

"Bah!" said the lady. "Celebrities! what has one to do with them in society? As to celebrities, they are simply bores. Because a man has discovered a planet, it does not follow that he can converse agreeably, even on his own subjects; often people are drained dry by one action or expression of their lives-drained dry for all the purposes of a 'salon.' The writer of books, for instance, cannot afford to talk twenty pages for nothing, so he is either profoundly silent, or else he gives you the mere rinsings of his mind. I am speaking now of him as a mere celebrity, and justifying the wisdom of the ladies we were speaking of, in not seeking after such people; indeed, in being rather shy of them. Some of their friends were the most celebrated people of their day, but they were received in their old capacity of agreeable men; a higher character, by far. Then," said she, turning to me, "I believe that you English spoil the perfection of conversation by having your rooms as brilliantly lighted for an evening, the charm of which dependson what one hears, as for an evening when youth and beauty are to display themselves among flowers and festoons, and every kind of pretty ornament. I would never have a room affect people as being dark on their first entrance into it; but there is a kind of moonlight as compared to sunlight, in which people talk more freely and naturally; where shy people will enter upon a conversation without a dread of every change of color or involuntary movement being seen-just as we are always more confidential over a fire than anywhere else-as women talk most openly in the dimly-lighted bedroom at curlingtime."

"Away with your shy people," said the gentleman. "Persons who are self-conscious, thinking of an involuntary redness or paleness, an unbecoming movement of the countenance, more than the subject of which they are talking, should not go into society at all. But, because women are so much more liable to this nervous weakness than men, the preponderance of people in a salon should always be on the side of the men."

I do not think I gained more hints as to the lost art from my French friends. Let us see if my own experience in England can furnish any more ideas."

First, let us take the preparations to be made before our house, our room, or our lodgings, can be made to receive society. Of course I am not meaning the preparations needed for dancing or musical evenings. I am taking those parties which have pleasant conversation and happy social intercourse for their affirmed intention. They may be dinners, suppers, tea-I don't care what they are called, provided their end is defined. If your friends have not dined, and it suits you to give them a dinner, in the name of Lucullus, let them dine; but take care that there shall be

something besides the mere food and wine to as she was fond of dainties herself, I can fancy make their fattening agreeable at the time, and her smooth benevolence of character taking depleasant to remember, otherwise you had better light in some personal preparations made in the pack up for each his portion of the dainty dish, morning for the anticipated friends of the ove and send it separately in hot-water trays, so that ning. I can fancy her stewing sweet-breads in he can eat comfortably behind a door, like San- a silver saucepan, or dressing salad with her del cho Panza, and have done with it. And yet I icate, plump, white hands; not that ever saw don't see why we should be like ascetics; I fancy a silver saucepan. I was formerly ignorant there is a grace of preparation, a sort of festive enough to think that they were only used in the trumpet-call, that is right and proper to distin- Sleeping Beauty's kitchen, or in the preparations guish the day on which we receive our friends from common days, unmarked by such white stones. The thought and care we take for them to set before them of our best, may imply some self denial on our less fortunate days. I have been in houses where all, from the scullion maid upward, worked double tides gladly, because "Master's friends" were coming; and everything must be nice, and good, and all the rooms must look bright and clean, and pretty. And, as a "merry heart goes all the way," preparations made in this welcoming, hospitable spirit never seem to tire any one half so much as where servants instinctively feel that it has been said in the parlor," We must have so-and-so," or "Oh dear! we have never had the so-and-so's." Yes, I like a little pomp and luxury, and stateliness, to mark our happy days of receiving friends as a festival; but I do not think I would throw my power of procuring luxuries solely into the eating and drinking line.

for the marriage of Riquet-with-the-Tuft; but I
have been assured that there are such things,
and that they impart a most delicate flavor, or
no flavor to the victuals cooked therein; so I as-
sert again, Madame de Sablé cooked sweet-
breads for her friends in a silver saucepan; but
never to fatigue herself with those previous la-
bors. She knew the true taste of her friends too
well; they cared for her firstly, as an element in
their agreeable evening-the silver saucepan in
which they were all to meet; the oil in which
their several ingredients were to be softened of
what was harsh or discordant-very secondary
would be their interests in her sweet-breads.

Of sweet-breads they'll get mony an ane,
Of Sable ne'er anither.

But part of my care beforehand should go to the homely article of waiting. I should not mind having none at all; a dumb waiter, pepper, salt, bread, and condiments within the reach or by the side of all. Little kindly attentions from one guest to another tend to take off the selfish character of the mere act of cating; and, besides, the guests would (or should) be too well educated, too delicate of tact, to interrupt a burst of wit, or feeling, or eloquence, as a mere footman often does with the perpetual "Sherry or Madeira?" or with the names of those mysteri ous entremets that always remind me of a white kid glove that I once ate with Vsechamel sauce, and found very tender and good, under the name of Oreilless de Veau à-la-something, but which experiment I never wish to repeat. There is something graceful and kindly in the little attention by which one guest silently puts by his neighbor all that he may require. I consider it a better opening to ultimate friendship, if my unknown neighbor mutely passes me the salt, or silently understands that I like sugar to my soup, than if he had been introduced by his full name and title. and labelled with the one distinguishing action or book of his life, after the manner of some who are rather show-men than hosts.

My friends would probably be surprised (some wear caps and some wigs) if I provided them with garlands of flowers, after the manner of the ancient Greeks; but, put flowers on the table (none of your shams, wax or otherwise; I prefer an honest wayside root of primroses in a common vase of white ware, to the grandest bunch of stiff-rustling artificial rarities in a silver épergne). A flower or two by the side of each person's plate would not be out of the way, as to expense, and would be a very agreeable, pretty piece of mute welcome. Cooks and scullion maids, acting in the sympathetic spirit I have described, would do their very best, from boiling the potatoes well, to sending in all the dishes in the best possible order. I think I would have every imaginary dinner sent up on the Original Mr. Walker's plan; each dish separately, hot and hot. I have an idea that when I go to live in Utopia (not before next Christmas), I will have a kind of hot-water sideboard, such as I think I have seen in great houses, and that nothing shall appear on the table but what is pleasant to the eye. However simple the food, I would do it, and my friends (and may I not add the Giver?) But to return to the subject of waiting. I the respect of presenting it at table as well have always believed that the charm of those cooked, as catable, as wholesome as my poor little suppers, famous from time immemorial as means allowed; and to this end rather than to a the delightful P. S. to operas, was that there was variety of dishes, would I direct my care. We no formal waiting, or over-careful arrangement have no associations with beef and mutton; of the table; a certain sweet neglect pervaded geese may remind us of the Capitol; and pea- all, very compatible with true elegance. The cocks of Juno; a pigeon-pie of "the simplicity perfection of waiting is named in the story of the of Venus's doves;" but who thinks of the leafy White Cat, where, if you remember, the hero covert which has been her home in life, when he prince is waited upon by hands without bodies, as sees a roasted hare? Now, flowers as an orna- he sits at table with the White Cat, and is served ment, do lead our thoughts away from their pres-with that delicate fricassee of mice. By hands ent beauty and fragrance. I am almost sure without bodies, I am very far from meaning Madame de Sablé had flowers in her salon, and hands without heads. Some people prefer female