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blood, had but a small "visiting acquaintance" in town;-fresh from economical colonisation on the Continent, or from distant provinces in these three kingdoms. Mrs Haughton's rooms were well lighted. There was music for some, whist for others, tea, ices, cakes, and a crowd, for all.

Át ten o'clock-the rooms already nearly filled, and Mrs Haughton, as she stood at the door, anticipating with joy that happy hour when the staircase would become inaccessible -the head attendant, sent with the ices from the neighbouring confectioner, announced in a loud voice, "Mr Haughton-Mr Darrell.”

At that latter name a sensation thrilled the assembly-the name so much in every one's mouth at that period, nor least in the mouths of the great middle class, on whom-though the polite may call them " a sad mixture," cabinets depend-could not fail to be familiar to the ears of Mrs Haughton's "visiting acquaintance." The interval between his announcement and his ascent from the hall to the drawing-room was busily filled up by murmured questions to the smiling hostess, "Darrell! what! the Darrell! Guy Darrell! greatest man of the day! A connection of yours? Bless me, you don't say so ?" Mrs Haughton began to feel nervous. Was Lionel right? Could the man who had only been a lawyer at the back of Holborn really be, now, such a very, very great man-greatest man of the day? Nonsense!


Ma'am," said one pale, puffcheeked, flat-nosed gentleman, in a very large white waistcoat, who was waiting by her side till a vacancy in one of the two whist-tables should Occur- "Ma'am, I'm an enthusiastic admirer of Mr Darrell. You say he is a connection of yours? Present me to him."

Mrs Haughton nodded flutteringly, for, as the gentleman closed his request, and tapped a large gold snuffbox, Darrell stood before her-Lionel close at his side, looking positively sheepish. The great man said a few civil words, and was gliding into the room to make way for the press behind him, when he of the white waistcoat, touching Mrs Haughton's arm, and staring Darrell full in the face,

said, very loud: "In these anxious times, public men dispense with ceremony. I crave an introduction to Mr Darrell." Thus pressed, poor

Mrs Haughton, without looking up, muttered out, "Mr Adolphus Poole Mr Darrell," and turned to welcome fresh comers.

"Mr Darrell," said Mr Poole, bowing to the ground, "this is an honour." Darrell gave the speaker one glance of his keen eye, and thought to himself,-"If I were still at the bar, I should be sorry to hold a brief for that fellow." However, he returned the bow formally, and, bowing again at the close of a highly complimentary address with which Mr Poole followed up his opening sentence, expressed himself" much flattered," and thought he had escaped; but wherever he went through the crowd, Mr Poole contrived to follow him, and claim his notice by remarks on the affairs of the day-the weather-the funds-the crops. At length Darrell perceived, sitting aloof in a corner, an excellent man, whom indeed it surprised him to see in a London drawing-room, but who, many years ago, when Darrell was canvassing the enlightened constituency of Ouzelford, had been on a visit to the chairman of his committee

an influential trader-and having connections in the town-and, being a very high character, had done him good service in the canvass. Darrell rarely forgot a face, and never a service. At any time he would have been glad to see the worthy man once more, but at that time he was grateful indeed.

"Excuse me," he said bluntly to Mr Poole, "but I see an old friend.” He moved on, and thick as the crowd had become, it made way with respect, as to royalty, for the distinguished orator. The buzz of admiration as he passed-louder than in drawingrooms more refined-would have had sweeter music than Grisi's most artful quaver to a vainer_man-nay, once on a time to him. But-sugarplums come too late! He gained the corner, and roused the solitary sitter.

"My dear Mr Hartopp, do you not remember me-Guy Darrell ?"

"Mr Darrell!" cried the ex-mayor of Gatesboro', rising, "who could think that you would remember me?”

"What! not remember those ten stubborn voters, on whom, all and singly, I had lavished my powers of argument in vain? You came, and with the brief words, 'John-NedDick-oblige me-vote for Darrell!' the men were convinced-the votes won. That's what I call eloquence" -(sotto voce "Confound that fellow! still after me!"-Aside to Hartopp) "Oh! may I ask who is that Mr -what's his name-there-in the white waistcoat?"

"Poole," answered Hartopp. "Who is he, sir? A speculative man. He is connected with a new Company-I am told it answers. Williams (that's my foreman-a very long head he has too) has taken shares in the Company, and wanted me to do the same, but 'tis not in my way. And Mr Poole may be a very honest man, but he does not impress me with that idea. I have grown careless; I know I am liable to be taken in-I was so once -and therefore I avoid Companies' upon principle-especially when they promise thirty per cent, and work copper mines-Mr Poole has a copper


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"And deals in brass-you may see it in his face! But you are not in town for good, Mr Hartopp? If I remember right, you were settled at Gatesboro' when we last meet."

"And so I am still--or rather in the neighbourhood. I am gradually retiring from business, and grown more and more fond of farming. But I have a family, and we live in enlightened times, when children require a finer education than their parents had. Mrs Hartopp thought my daughter Anna Maria was in need of some 'finishing lessons'-very fond of the harp is Anna Maria- and so we have taken a house in London for six weeks. That's Mrs Hartopp yonder, with the bird on her head-bird of paradise, I believe-Williams says that birds of that kind never rest. That bird is an exception-it has rested on Mrs Hartopp's head for hours together, every evening since we have been in town."

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Ouzelford; and between you and me, Mr Darrell, that is the reason why I consented to come to town. Do not suppose that I would have a daughter finished unless there was a husband at hand who undertook to be responsible for the results."

"You retain your wisdom, Mr Hartopp; and I feel sure that not even your fair partner could have brought you up to London unless you had decided on the expediency of coming. Do you remember that I told you the day you so admirably settled a dispute in our committeeroom, 'it was well you were not born a king, for you would have been an irresistible tyrant?""

"Hush! hush!" whispered Hartopp in great alarm, "if Mrs H. should hear you! What an observer you are, sir. I thought I was a judge of character-but I was once deceived. I dare say you never were."

"You mistake," answered Darrell, wincing, you deceived! How?"

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"Oh, a long story, sir. It was an elderly man the most agreeable, interesting companion-a vagabond nevertheless-and such a pretty bewitching little girl with him, his grandchild. I thought he might have been a wild harum-scarum chap in his day, but that he had a true sense of honour"-(Darrell, wholly uninterested in this narrative, suppressed a yawn, and wondered when it would end). "Only think, sir, just as I was saying to myself, I know character-I never was taken in,' down comes a smart fellow-the man's own son-and tells me-or rather he suffers a lady who comes with him to tell me that this charming old gentleman of high sense of honour was a returned convict-been transported for robbing his employer."

Pale, breathless, Darrell listened, not unheeding now. "What was the name of-of-"

"The convict? He called himself Chapman, but the son's name was Losely-Jasper."

"Ah!" faltered Darrell, recoiling, "and you spoke of a little girl?"

"Jasper Losely's daughter; he came after her with a magistrate's warrant. The old miscreant had carried her off,-to_teach her his own swindling ways, I suppose. Luckily

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"Crane!-Crane !" muttered Darrell, as if trying in vain to tax his memory with that name. "So he said the child was his daughter-are you sure?"

Oh, of course he said so, and the lady too. But can you be acquainted with them, sir?"

"I-no! Strangers to me, except by repute. Liars-infamous liars! But have the accomplices quarrelled - I mean the son and father-that the father should be exposed and denounced by the son?"

"I conclude so. I never saw them again. But you believe the father really was, then, a felon, a convictno excuse for him-no extenuating circumstances? There was something in that man, Mr Darrell, that made one love him-positively love him; and when I had to tell him that I had given up the child he trusted to my charge, and saw his grief, I felt a criminal myself."

Darrell said nothing, but the character of his face was entirely altered -stern, hard, relentless-the face of an inexorable judge. Hartopp, lifting his eyes suddenly to that countenance, recoiled in awe.

"You think I was a criminal!" he said piteously.

"I think we are both talking too much, Mr Hartopp, of a gang of miserable swindlers, and I advise you to dismiss the whole remembrance of intercourse with any of them from your honest breast, and never to repeat to other ears the tale you have poured into mine. Men of honour should crush down the very thought that approaches them to knaves!"

Thus saying,Darrell moved off with abrupt rudeness, and passing quickly back through the crowd, scarcely noticed Mrs Haughton by a retreating nod, nor heeded Lionel at all, but hurried down the stairs. He was impatiently searching for his cloak in the back parlour, when a voice behind said, "Let me assist


you, sir-do;" and turning round with petulant quickness, he beheld again Mr Adolphus Poole. It requires an habitual intercourse with equals to give perfect and invariable control of temper to a man of irritable nerves and frank character; and though, where Darrell really liked, he had much sweet forbearance, and where he was indifferent much stately courtesy, yet, when he was offended, he could be extremely uncivil. "Sir," he cried, almost stamping his foot, your importunities annoy me; I request you to cease them."

"Oh, I ask your pardon," said Mr Poole, with an angry growl. “I have no need to force myself on any man. But I beg you to believe that if I presumed to seek your acquaintance, it was to do you a service, siryes, a private service, sir." He lowered his voice into a whisper, and laid his finger on his nose"There's one Jasper Losely, sir-eh? Oh, sir, I'm no mischief-maker. I respect family secrets. Perhaps I might be of use, perhaps not."

"Certainly not to me, sir," said Darrell, flinging the cloak he had now found across his shoulders, and striding from the house. When he entered his carriage, the footman stood waiting for orders. Darrell was long in giving them. Anywhere for half an hour-to St Paul's, then home." But on returning from this objectless plunge into the City, Darrell pulled the check-string-" To Belgrave Square-Lady Dulcett's."

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The concert was half over; but Flora Vyvyan had still guarded, as she had promised, a seat beside herself for Darrell, by lending it for the present to one of her obedient vassals. Her face brightened as she saw Darrell enter and approach. The vassal surrendered the chair. Darrell appeared to be in the highest spirits; and I firmly believe that he was striving to the utmost in his power-what?— to make himself agreeable to Flora Vyvyan? No; to make Flora Vyvyan agreeable to himself. The man did not presume that a fair young lady could be in love with him; perhaps he believed that, at his years, to be impossible. But he asked what seemed much easier, and was much harderhe asked to be himself in love.

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WAR, with all its horrors and calamities, is sure still to bring some compensations in its train. Conquest and civilisation have often made their advance together. Commerce has followed where the invader had first set his foot, and science should be ready to enter at every avenue of knowledge which may be opened up by the sword. In different ages, the lawless aggressions of Alexander and of Napoleon were made subservient to scientific results, and the just and necessary operations of warfare in our own day ought not to be destitute of similar benefits.

The presence of our armies on the shores of the Black Sea during the late contest with Russia, has caused or encouraged investigations of various kinds which cannot fail to be permanently profitable. "The Languages of the Seat of War in the East" have been the subject of a masterly essay by one of our greatest philologers Mr Max Müller of Oxford in which he has taken from that point of view, as from a great central height, a clear and comprehensive survey of the most important forms of speech in Europe and Asia. The wide and wonderful prospect thus presented is intimately associated with the history of the human race at large, as well as with the origin and character of the different nations or tribes who have successively peopled those scenes; and the more recent and more special work which is the immediate occasion of this article, tends to throw light on the same topics of ethnological inquiry.

Its fertile soil and central position have made the Crimea from very ancient times a frequent field of contention among different competitors. It is the general, and it seems to be the sound opinion, that the present inhabitants of Europe have immigrated from the East, and the Crimea,

lying in the line which forms the most direct land-passage from the southern portions of Western Asia to the central countries of Europe, has probably been traversed or touched by most of the important tribes that have travelled westward from the great cradle of nations. As Müller observes—

"The south-east of Europe has indeed long been notorious as a Babel of tongues. Herodotus* (iv. 24) tells us that caravans of Greek merchants, following the course of the Volga upward to the Ural Mountains, were accompanied by seven interpreters, speaking seven different languages. These must have comprised Slavonic, Tataric, and Finnic dialects, spoken in those countries in the time of Herodotus as at the present day. In yet earlier times the south-east of Europe was the first resting place for the nations who transplanted the seeds of Asia to European soil. Three roads were open to their north-westward migrations. One, east of the Caspian Sea and west of the Ural Mountains, leading to the north of Asia and Europe. Another, on the Caucasian Isthmus, whence they would advance along the northern coast of the Black Sea, and following the course of the Dniepr, Dniestr, or Danube, be led into Russia and Germany. third road was defined by the Taurus through Asia Minor, to the point where the Hellespont marks the path of the Hellenes' into Greece and Italy. While


the main stream of the Arian nations passed on, carrying its waves to the northern and western shores of Europe, it formed a kind of eddy in the Carpathian Peninsula, and we may still discover in the stagnating dialects north and south of the Danube, the traces of the

flux and reflux of those tribes who have

since become the ruling nations of Europe. The barbarian inroads, which, from the seventh century after Christ, infested the regions of civilisation and led to the destruction of the Greek and Roman Empires, followed all the same direction. The country near the Danube and the Black Sea has been for ages the

Antiquities of Kertch, and Researches in the Cimmerian Bosphorus. M'PHERSON, M.D. London, 1857.

By D.

An interesting and lucid account of the early inhabitants of Russia, founded on the researches of Safarik and others, is found in a pamphlet by KURD DE SCHLOEZER, Les premiers Habitants de la Russie. Paris, 1846.

battle-field of Asia and Europe. Each language settled there on the confines of civilisation and barbarism, recalls a chap ter of history."

Of the three routes just mentioned, it seems clear that, at least after Greece and Asia Minor had been occupied by powerful nations, the middle line which passes between the Caspian and the Black Sea would be the most resorted to by the Arian or Indo-Germanic immigrants. It leads directly from Persia to the South-eastern plains of Russia, and in the small Ossetian tribe still settled in the Caucasus, and supposed to be of Persian or Median blood, we have the clear vestiges of an Indo-Germanic language, which, in Müller's somewhat fanciful words, 66 surrounded on all sides by tongues of different origin, stands out like a block of granite errant in the midst of sandstone strata, a strayed landmark of the migrations of the Arian tribes." To the weary wayfarers thus journeying on their uncertain course, the Crimea must have shone out pleasantly amidst the uniformity of the surrounding steppes; and it has accordingly been said, that this peninsula has from first to last been occupied or overrun by not less than seventy successive nations, of many of whom its language, condition, and antiquities, still present important


The Cimmerians mentioned in history as the earliest inhabitants of this district, have sometimes been said to be the same people with the Cimbri, found at a later period in possession of Jutland, and who invaded the Roman empire from the north. But the conjecture seems to rest on no better foundation than a similarity of the names, which cannot be regarded as sufficient to support it. A question has also been raised as to the identity of the historical Cimmerians of the Black Sea, with the race mentioned by Homer under that appellation, but whose locality is generally referred to Italy. The name here seems to be nothing, as "Cimmerian" is probably a generic term applicable to any people living at a distance from the sun, the word being apparently of Phoenician origin,

from a root signifying "darkness." But the geography of Homer, even if capable of being consistently localised in all its parts, is attended with wellknown difficulties. Dr M'Pherson, following Mr Danby Seymour in his Russia on the Black Sea, adopts the theory of some German geographers, in making that region the scene of the wanderings of Ulysses in the Odyssey. According to that view, the Crimea exhibits the Læstrygonian coast of the poet, whose inhabitants resembled not men but giants; while it is a part of the same hypothesis that our old friends, Scylla and Charybdis, mentioned in this portion of Homer's story, are not to be assigned, as is generally done, to the Straits of Messina, but are to be found at the northern entrance of the Thracian Bosphorus in the neighbourhood of the Symplegades Islands. Much may be said, as usual, on both sides of these controversies. But, perhaps, the safest and best solution of them is, that these outlying localities in the Homeric poems, and in the heroic legends of Greece generally, are places unapproachable by sea or land; that the mythical muse, when dealing with distant places and remote events, cared little either for geography or chronology; and that to delineate accurately the course of Ulysses between Troy and Ithaca, would be as difficult a task as to find the latitude of Lilliput, to lay down in a chart the voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, or to land, like Shakespeare, on the sea-coast of Bohemia.

In deference, however, to those who advocate a Euxine localisation of Homer, we may here insert Pope's translation of the passage in the 10th Book of the Odyssey, which these writers conceive to be a description of Balaklava, though we fear that many another bay in Italy and elsewhere might equally have sate for the picture.

"Within a long recess a bay there lies Edged round with cliffs, high pointing to the skies.

The jutting shores, that swell on either side,

Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.

Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat, And bound within the port their crowded fleet;

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