his comprehension; they all of them fell very wide of the mark. This was tiresome-particularly tiresome to both; but it really was not the widow's fault: it was Ripstone's and Ripstone's alone! Well, the widow rang for coffee, and retired to give some further instructions. Now," thought Ripstone, "for this most extraordinary disclosure!" He rose; and on her return the widow found him apparently lost in admiration of a Titian; but, although his eyes were, his thoughts were not, on that. His thoughts were but no matter: the coffee was produced, and he was again sweetly summoned.

With all the elegance and grace at her command the widow sipped and sipped, alternately examining the countenance of Ripstone, and the delicate pattern of her cup. At length, feeling that this was not the way to make progress, as Ripstone would not understand, she breathed a sigh fiercely-one sigh, and took courage; and while still intently gazing upon her cup, as if she really had never noticed the pattern before, she smiled, and then said, "I'm very silly,-I am-really-like a child. I wished to have your advice upon a matter of some-slight-in fact, of considerablefor it is to me of considerable importance-and yet-do you think that I can get my heart high enough? Upon my word, a mere girl of fifteen would have far more courage. I am but a poor, weak, simple creature, after all.”

Mr. Ripstone now looked unspeakably anxious, and said, "My dear lady, proceed-pray proceed: it is something, I fear, of great

"It is something," rejoined the widow, who now felt that the ice had been broken,-" it is something of a character extremely delicate, which-really I cannot-indeed-indeed I cannot-I dare not explain even now.'

The expression of Mr. Ripstone's round face now became very droll. "Extremely delicate?" thought he. "It's very odd." He scarcely knew that he should be justified in urging her to proceed. The phrase, "extremely delicate," really struck him as being very strong; and yet when he came to think of it, he found that his impression had been that that phrase really signified something extremely indelicate, which he now at a glance saw was extremely incorrect, and therefore said, with his characteristic firmness and force, "My dear lady, if you really have confidence in my honour and sincerity

"My friend," interrupted the widow, "I have-believe me, I have the greatest possible confidence in both; you are, in fact, now, the only soul in whom I can confide. I will, therefore, explain. A woman," she continued, with great deliberation, “is considered, of course, the weaker vessel. She is so naturally, and is recognised as being so socially; and hence it is, I presume, that society has prescribed that the weaker shall be wooed by the stronger. I believe that view of the matter is correct?" "Oh! perfectly-perfectly--quite-quite correct, my dear lady; proceed."

Well, a woman upon my life, I scarcely know how to put it, -but a man in the majority of cases having reference to marriage, is presumed to possess advantages-not merely of a moral and physical description, but in a pecuniary point of view he is presumed to possess advantages; and hence, I apprehend, it is clearly understood that in all such cases the proposal should, of course, proceed from him. Am I right ?"

"Oh! quite-decidedly-quite-quite right!" cried Ripstone, more puzzled than ever. The softest, the sweetest, and most delicate smile illumined her face as she resumed:

"But, suppose-I will put it so-suppose-leaving out of the question all moral and physical superiority-suppose the pecuniary advantages of the lady to be infinitely superior to those of the person to whom she is really attached-do you consider that in such a case she would really be justified in proposing to him? Would you hold such an act to be indiscreet, or imprudent?"

"Not if he really were a man of honour," replied Ripstone, "and had proved himself worthy of that lady's choice. Most decidedly not. Were he as poor as Job himself, in such a case she would be justified, seeing that custom alone prescribes the contrary course." "Well, now, that is indeed a remarkable coincidence," rejoined the widow archly. "It happens to be precisely my opinion. I was thinking the other day that in a case of that description the propriety of such a step could scarcely be impugned. But, suppose-let us put it to ourselves, just by way of illustration, for I really should like to be clear upon the point-suppose, then, that I,-being, disengaged, of course-had, let me see, say some thousands a-year; and that you-being equally disengaged-had an income, we will say, of as many hundreds. Very well. Now, in the event of my proposing to you-you know this is, of course, a mere supposititious case, but, in such an event, would you accept that proposal?" "Why, that," replied Ripstone, "would mainly depend upon whether I had known you sufficiently long to be satisfied that the happiness of both would be thereby enhanced."

"But, assuming all the facts having reference to knowledge and to feelings to be in every particular precisely as they are, if I were to offer this hand, would you accept it?"

“Decidedly.

Without a moment's hesitation."

"My friend my dear friend!" said the widow. "It is yours!" Mr. Ripstone seemed absolutely lost in amazement; he seized her extended hand, however, and pressed and kissed it with affectionate fervour. They both felt so happy! They embraced. Their veins tingled with the drollest sensations. Again they embraced, and again! when Stanley dashed into the room.

The lovers started. They were paralyzed. Had Satan himself at that moment appeared, they could not have been struck with more terror. They could not, or they would have sunk into the earth.

"Good God!" exclaimed Stanley, whose eyes flashed with fiery indignation. "What-what is the meaning of this? Mother, what am I to understand?"

The widow sank into a chair, overwhelmed with confusion.

"Leave the room, sir!" continued Stanley, pointing fiercely to the door, and addressing Ripstone, who wished to explain. "Leave instantly! Stay another moment, at your peril!"

Poor Ripstone, of course, was aware that he had done nothing wrong; but, then, he happened to know Stanley too well to remain, and hence he quitted not only the room, but the house, as soon as possible.

"Mother!" cried Stanley, when Ripstone had departed, "you have vilely sacrificed your own honour and mine!"

"No, Stanley, my dearest love,-no!" exclaimed the widow, extending her arms widely. The next moment she fell upon his neck, and instantly fainted.

LIONS OF THE MODERN BABYLON.

WHAT elegance and luxury! What a refinement of every pleasure that the imagination can conceive, or ingenuity invent to give a zest to the life of man! This was my involuntary exclamation as I laid down one of those extraordinary daily papers with which the modern press teems, and that had found its way into my solitary abode, containing an elaborate description of the entertainments and pleasures of the Metropolis, and of the various amusements and pursuits of its favoured inhabitants. Here were pictured in the most glowing colours the pleasures of the banquet, where the choicest viands were said to be crowned by libations of burgundy and champagne, and every libation enhanced by the wit of the surrounding guests. Here were portrayed the gaiety and splendour of the fancy ball, the delights of the opera, and the theatres, and all the luxuries enjoyed by the gay votaries of fashion, with a long list of all the various and splendid appendages of rank and riches. Nature seemed scarcely to have endowed mankind with sufficient powers for the enjoyment of all the pleasures which were here pictured to my imagination. The five senses, into which our powers of enjoyment are reduced and divided, seemed inadequate to a proper apprecia tion of all that was set forth in the columns devoted to the manners and amusements of the age. Then came an account of the fame of statesmen, and the glory of generals in the fields of politics and warfare, and the reputation of authors in the paths of literature; and I could not but wonder whether the subjects of so much laudation were not drunk with public applause.

The description seized upon my fancy. My curiosity was suddenly and completely aroused, and I began to lament that I was not also among the participators of these pleasures, and the pursuers of this fame, which conferred such honour and glory upon the possessors. Why was I not among them, instead of occupying a solitary mansion, and following my studies far removed from these delicious scenes, and from such, apparently, unalloyed happiness?

"Why," continued I, "should I devote the short period of my life to the attainment of science, the utility of which may extend no farther than merely to give occupation to the vacancy of my own mind; or to the acquisition of knowledge that may never tend to the increase of my reputation, but be buried with me in the grave; when I may be so much more amusingly employed in seeking the pleasures of the Metropolis,-in enjoying amusements, the description of which alone has been sufficient to awaken sensations of delight? These pleasures are in my power. What is it, in fact, your philosophers do but die while they live, that they may live after they are dead? And, after all, how few ever attain even this end! I'll quit philosophy and solitude, therefore, and enter this gay world."

Enraptured with the idea of such a pleasant futurity as this resolution presented to my anticipations, I threw up the window of my library. It was one of those clear frosty nights in January, when "the moon, the inconstant moon," appears to move more brilliantly amidst the vast, and dark, and unfathomable expanse ; and when the. myriads and myriads of twinkling stars seem brighter than when the heats of summer, rising in the atmosphere, dim their resplendence. The glebe was covered with a mantle of snow; the avenue of old elms waved their crystallized and leafless branches, glittering in the

moonlight, to the wintry blast, and seemed to nod reproaches for my determination to desert them.

It is extraordinary how a scene, or a sound, or a thought, will change the vacillating mind. I gazed on the moon. I contemplated the avenue and glebe; a thousand recollections crowded upon me. I closed the window, and determined to remain. Throwing the pernicious periodical into the fire, I attempted to resume my studies; but the poison of fancied pleasure was instilled into my imagination; I cast my eyes towards the grate, on which I had thrown the paper. During my lucubrations I had neglected the fire, and there lay the journal, smouldering in the heat, disfigured and blackened, but still unconsumed. The printing of it had become even more apparent, and every paragraph seemed to stare me in the face in luminous characters, as though to continue the temptation which their first perusal had commenced. My eyes were riveted on the consuming paper. I determined to watch it to the last, till every spark should be extinguished-as I used, when a child, to play at "parson and clerk" till the whole congregation were gone out, and were carried by a current of air up the chimney. In the present instance, however, no such result seemed likely to follow, for the paper still lingered on the coals. The paragraphs and advertisements seemed to grow brighter and more luminous, till fancy began to picture to my mind's eye Macassar oil assuming the shape of a rosy cheek; Canton's dentifrice appeared to be growing into a fine set of teeth; and an advertisement for bear's grease to be producing a luxurious head of hair; while the puffs of Nugee, Stultz, and a host of other tailors, seemed gradually to assume the various habiliments in which they severally excelled, till the newspaper was actually transformed into human shape, and leaped from the grate into the room. I thought it must be a dream,-I rubbed my eyes,-still the vision vanished not. I felt I was awake; yet thought I must be asleep. I gazed on that which appeared a being before me, and at length the outline of the figure became palpable and definable to sight. It was that of a diminutive man, supported on one side by a crutch, while his movements did not in the least seem retarded by his apparent lameness. His round face bore the ruddy glow of health, as though still warmed by the fire from which he appeared to have sprung, while his little sparkling eyes looked at me with a caustic severity, sobered by an expression of cunning and good nature, that diminished the fear which his appearance might otherwise have inspired. This expression of cunning was heightened by a small hat and feather cocked very knowingly on one side of his head.

For a moment I was alarmed, and made a motion towards the bell, but the figure moved his crutch, and in a moment the bellpull, after performing a kind of swinging fandango, wriggled itself up to the ceiling, out of my reach. A kind of Mephistophiles' grin curled up the lip of my visitor, as he perceived my surprise at the rebellious propensities of my bell-pull, and a laugh—such a laugh as I had never heard-ha! ha! ha'd! in echoes through my room. "Vain mortal!" said my visitor. I shall never forget the first, tones of that voice: I find it, indeed, as impossible to describe as to forget them. "Vain mortal! did you imagine that I was to be shown to the door, and turned out of your house by some impertinent lackey, like a visitor of earthly mould. No, no; your impa

tience has invoked me; your discontent has induced my superiors to send me, not to help, but to convince you. You were highly favoured in being placed in this safe harbour, far from the tumultuous ocean of life, to pass your days in peace; and you have passed twenty years of almost uninterrupted happiness. True, you have not had the excitements of the world, and all its passions; but you have had its tranquillity: and now, ungrateful, you have suffered your imagination to be led away by the exaggerated account of fancied pleasures, and your heart is set on quitting this peaceful solitude that you may mix with the bustle and business of the great Metropolis.

"Well," continued the figure," you are to be gratified. My superiors have sent me to your aid, and you are to be gratified! gratified! gratified! gratified!" raising his voice at each repetition of the word. And the figure chuckled to itself with a kind of unearthly laugh-a demoniacal ha! ha ha! which one might imagine Mephistophiles to have uttered whenever he had entrapped Faust into a new sin-calling it a pleasure.

"Who are you? and where did you come from?" I exclaimed. "Who I am I can tell you," replied the figure. "I am Asmodeus, rather known to human fame as having, sometime since, conducted Don Cleofas through Madrid, and laid open to him the secrets and intrigues of the Spanish world. Where I came from is best known to myself, and must never be told to any mortal."

"But, from whom do you derive your power to perform the promise you make of showing me this world which has to-night appeared, for the first time, so attractive ?"

"From whom I derive my power," said the figure, "and from whence I come, are secrets confined to the knowledge of those spiritual essences who guide, unseen, the affairs of man; who are eternally hovering in the atmosphere to whisper to his imagination new ideas, to engender new speculations, to inspire new projects, and to suggest new inventions; and then vain mortals strut abroad, and take all the credit to themselves. Why, it was I who put steam into the head of Watt. It was I who put gas into the eye of Windsor; and it was a particular fast-travelling spirit, a friend of mine, who, embodying himself as a director, carried the railroad question from one end of the country to the other. It is we, who, sometimes in the shape of Fame, lead mortals to accomplish objects apparently impossible, tempt them through the dangerous paths of glory, and sometimes lead them to the objects of their wishes, while at others we leave them on the brink of the precipice, and make them travel back the dangerous road themselves, as a punishment for their vanity; sometimes we suffer them to fall into the abyss, by way of retributive justice for their wickedness. Some one or other of us are members of every society in the universe. There is not a club in London into which we are not elected, and guide or influence their proceedings from the affected ethics of the Athenæum to the unaffected ethics of Crockford's; from the learned synod of the Royal Society to the laughter-loving Garrick; from the solemn episcopal high church of Oxford and Cambridge, to the old woman's A.B.C. academy in some country village. You can scarcely sit down at a table, enter a stage-coach, go on board a steam-vessel, that there is not one of us a fellow guest, or a fellow passenger. There is one general sign of intelligence, known only to ourselves,