"I have repaid your rifle-shot," said I, with a laugh. I was very glad to have to tell it to him, and spared him suspense with as few words as I could. "The cause is yours, dear Waldemar. I have no need to congratulate you, nor say how heartily glad I am to have returned, in ever so small a way, the service you rendered me this day two years."

He stretched out his hand to me. He did not speak for a moment; he was very susceptible, I fancy, to strong emotions, whether of pleasure or pain; his eyes filled with tears, and his voice shook as he looked down at Léonie.

"Thank Heaven for your sake, my darling!"

It is nothing to the purpose what were St. Croix's feelings when we had him up for forgery, and, stripping off his phylacteries, I showed up his cloven foot, which misshapen member, by the way, lurks under such saintly garments more often than saint worshippers believe. Waldemar was a good deal more sorry for him than the rascal deserved, and did his best to screen him from the consequences of that dangerous though certainly very clever counterfeit of his uncle's signature. I don't know whether the disappointed public drew any moral from the case or notLéonie did.

"Ah," she said to me, resting her proud, fond eyes on Waldemar, "how often the noble heart is misjudged, the cold and valueless one canonised. At the core of the smooth, perfect peach is a hard, poisonous stone; clear the fibres away from the cocoa-nut, what a kernel we find within!"

So she said this summer, sitting in the wide window where she first made her appearance at Lindenstein. Waldemar says she spoils him; perhaps she does; certainly she is very restless without him, and very demonstrative of her gladness in his presence; but natures warm and true are never the worse for that sort of adulation, however idolatrous, and it seems to suit Waldemar in the same way as sunshine suits flowers, bringing out all their sweetest fragrance. This last is Léonie's simile, I beg leave to state; I am guilty of nothing so poetic, though Floss (now Flossy Vavasour), spying out some horrible sonnets of mine dated twenty years back, vows I must have a latent germ of rhythm in me somewhere, though nobody would think it. I am sorry to record it, but the worship of the golden calf did not go out with Nebuchadnezzar. Vivian, senior, became reconciled to his son-in-law when he became successor to Sir Thomas St. Croix, and dropped the gipsies and the sock and buskin into oblivion when there was a cheque-book to play the part of their gravestones, though Léonie, I am afraid, however, is not filial enough to forgive her father fully for the bitter words he spoke to Waldemar when Waldemar was poor. Lindenstein is rebuilt in all its ancient glories, and is as stately as the old limes that shadow it. Flossy and I shall spend the Christmas there, and, I dare say, we shall drink as warm a toast as the old knights in days gone by drank to the glories of Bassano, or the fame of Premysl Ottokar, in memory of THE STAMP ON THE PAPER; OR, WALDEMAR'S RIFLE-SHOT, AND HOW I REPAID IT.

651

EPILOGUE TO VOL. XLVIII.

"IF it be true," says Rosalind, "that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue."

As far as plays are concerned, they, whether good or bad, appear in these days without introduction or apology; and Miscellanies, like ours -subject always to critical comment on their quality-might, in a general way, be left without literary sponsorship; especially when what they have attempted is beyond recal. The litera scripta remain, and we must stand or fall according to the verdict of the public.

But the Epilogue to this our forty-eighth volume (as Wamba says of truces with the infidels, "these numbers make old men of us") is an exceptional affair, and wears a somewhat Hibernian aspect, seeing that it is not our intention to say anything about the Past, save by implication, but rather to speak of the Future: so that our Epilogue is, in fact, an anticipatory Prologue; and you may compare it, if you please, to, Bottom's Dream, so called because it had no bottom, and was not the thing it seemed.

In a better sense, however, we hope that the resemblance to the honest Athenian's hallucination will be no less complete, for Bottom's Dream was "a most rare vision;" and, if the result correspond with our endeavours, a rare and pleasant vision will be conjured before the eyes of our readers.

With respect to our immediate personal labours, we can only say that having chosen a theme which affords to the full as much scope for picturesque delineation as other works of ours which have been received with favour by a numerous public, no effort shall be wanting on our part to render "THE CONSTABLE OF THE TOWER" as acceptable as either "Old Saint Paul's," ,” “The Miser's Daughter," or "The Tower of London." In one respect we can make a very safe prediction: when we say that the illustrations with which the story will be accompanied are from the poetical and practised pencil of JOHN GILBERT, we offer our readers a guarantee for the performance of all that Art can accomplish to render the incidents recorded of one of the most stirring periods of English history in a form as picturesque as they are capable of assuming.

Very early in the coming year, though not in the opening number, one of our oldest associates in periodical writing, whose name is sufficiently known to render it unnecessary for us to dwell upon the characteristics of his style, will produce a new comic work of fiction. We shall not prematurely disclose the title of MR. DUDLEY COSTELLO's new serial, but we violate no confidence in announcing that the subject on which he is about to enter will give him ample opportunity for developing his powers of

humorous observation.

We offer, not our own opinion, but that of a host of critical commentators, when we say that few periodical writers have suddenly achieved

a greater success than the contributor who has chosen the fanciful designation of "OUIDA;" and, therefore, we shall not greatly err in promising a fund of entertainment from the same prolific, acute, and sparkling novelist, whose sketches of society, both in England and on the Continent, are as graceful as they are accurate.

For that which happily combines "the grave and gay," earnest thought and playful fancy, the "Mingle-Mangle of Monkshood" has earned a wide and enduring reputation. To predict the subjects on which the learned essayist may choose to dilate would be an attempt as vain as that of declaring beforehand the successive changes of the kaleidoscope; but as in that optical instrument every combination is a form of beauty, so in the "Mingle-Mangle" the reader may safely expect to find a multitude of good things, rich and various as the olla podrida which crowned the enjoyment of Sancho Panza at the feast of Camacho the Rich.

So much for the principal contributors to the Miscellany whose names or sobriquets are familiar to the public: we have many more in store who, we have good reason for believing, will create for themselves a reputation fully equal to that of any of their literary companions. Every year adds to our knowledge of the stars that stud the firmament, and we pretend to so much astronomical skill as to claim the right of foretelling from their twinkling what permanent additions may safely be made to the sidereal nomenclature.

On the general questions of critical examination, historical narrative, scientific inquiry, and all that involves research and patient labour-topics which have always been distinctive features of BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY -our record will be at the least as full as heretofore; nor do we doubt that those to whom-after the emblematic fashion of our cover-we scatter flowers and play before with pipe and tabor, will be no less indulgent to our efforts than the long experience of twenty-four years has proved them

to be.

With this we depart. Our next appearance, we trust, will show that the promises we make have not been made in vain.

INDEX

TO THE FORTY-EIGHTH VOLUME.

California, Curious Mesmeric Experi- Curious Mesmeric Experiences in Ca-