She is fortunate in having so disinterested an advocate.'

Walter felt not only uncomfortable, but even abashed; he was not unconscious that he had been somewhat enthusiastic in his praise of the object of his friend's choice, and that it was no more his place to be so-nor, indeed, so muchthan it was Mrs Sheldon's. 'I still, however, think that Lotty is weak,' continued that lady, musing; 'not only born to be led rather than to lead, which is the fate of our sex, but, what is not so usual with us, well content with that dependent position. However, that is the less to be regretted, since Reggie has will enough for two. I don't think he would stand much opposition in a wife, after the honeymoon days were over; what do you say, Mr Litton?'

'I think Selwyn likes to have his way, like most of us men,' answered Walter.

'You are virtuous,' said Mrs Sheldon, smiling, 'for you withstand the temptation of criticising an absent friend. Well, I am his aunt, you know though it seems rather ridiculous perhaps '

'It seems incredible,' said Walter gallantly. 'When I first saw you, I thought Selwyn had been playing one of his jokes upon us in saying that he was your nephew.'

But it really is so,' said Mrs Sheldon: my father and Reginald's were always taken for brothers, so nearly were they of an age, and yet they belonged to different generations. Well, as I was saying, I am his near relative, and privileged to speak the truth about Reggie. I think this young lady very suitable to him in many respects; but, of course, he runs a tremendous risk. I mean, of course,' added she, in answer to Walter's questioning look, as to the money. I am not a mercenary person, I hope, but I know men can't live upon air.'

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Nor young ladies either, I conclude,' said Walter dryly.

'Well, yes; they can live upon love, which comes to the same thing, my dear Mr Litton. There is a great deal of nonsense talked about the expensive requirements of girls of the present day, and of how men are afraid to marry them in consequence. It is true that men have mixed more in the world, and therefore seen more of the inconveniences of poverty than the young people of my own sex, but, in addition to that, they are more selfish, and (if I may use the word without cant) less spiritual. Even the most foolish girl, whose happiness seems dependent upon the smiles of what is called "Society," has capabilities of selfsacrifice in her for the sake of him she loves, such as you men do not dream of; nay, she would not be conscious, as all you would be-for never yet did a man give up for another's sake so much as the smoking of a cigar without patting himself on the back for it that it was a sacrifice, so long as the husband continued to be what he seemed when he was her lover. If his love is not meat, drink, and clothing to her, it is all beside those three essentials; and possessing it, she can dispense with almost everything else.'

The change in Mrs Sheldon's manner, as she thus spoke, was very remarkable: her lively, yet somewhat cynical air had wholly disappeared, and was replaced by a certain passionate earnestness. "It is possible,' was Walter's involuntary thought, 'that Society may have judged this woman harshly,

after all; she may herself have married one who did not continue to be the man he had seemed, or whom she discovered, perhaps, to be the lover of somebody else.' His heart, always tender towards womankind, was moved with pity, and his face betrayed it.

'I am speaking of men and women generally, Mr Litton,' said she, in a softened tone, for there are women as hard as nails (as Reginald would say), and men more noble than the best of women; and in this particular case, I do not doubt there will be love enough, and on the right side, to make it no hardship to dispense with luxuries. It is the vulgar meat, drink, and clothing question that is the present problem. If Brown père refuses to be reconciled, how are the young folks to live?'

"That is the very inquiry that I ventured to put to Selwyn last night, observed Walter gravely, 'but one which he was either unable or disinclined to answer. He has his pay, of course.'

"That is nothing,' answered Mrs Sheldon. 'He has always looked upon it as so much pocket-money, to be spent in cigars, and sodas and brandy. The inheritance he received from his parents was to a great extent anticipated before it came to him, and he has been living on it-that is, on the principal -ever since. I should be surprised, even, if he could shew a fair balance-sheet, and start in life to-day with anything to the good, if all his debts were paid.'

'Good Heavens !' cried Litton, 'this is terrible. I knew Selwyn called himself a poor man; but I thought that was considering his position in a crack cavalry regiment: poor, compared with such a man as myself, for instance. I felt that it was indiscreet of him to marry; but if what you say is true '- Walter hesitated, for he was about to say something harsh.

If what I say is true, and it is true,' said Mrs Sheldon, 'this marriage is Madness, you were about to observe. It is worse than madness-unless he has good cause to reckon upon the forgiveness of this young girl's father-it is suicide. It is upon this very matter that I came down here this morning to have a few words with you. I wanted to know, from a really trustworthy source, what chance there was of a reconciliation.'

'My dear Mrs Sheldon, I know less of that even than yourself,' returned Walter, a sort of diorama of poor Lotty's married life projecting itself on his brain-a little whirl of gaiety, then debt and duns, the shifts of penury, and at last the depths of itand filling him with indescribable distress. 'I cannot, will not think that matters are quite so bad with Selwyn as you describe. If they are, how did he himself look forward to extricate himself from his difficulties, supposing this-this running-away had never happened?'

'By a lucky marriage,' observed Mrs Sheldon coolly. Reggie has no expectations in the way of money at all; but there is an Irish cousin of his, a baronet, to whose title, although to nothing else, for he has nothing to leave, he is the heir. This man is both old and ailing, and in all probability my nephew will soon become "Sir Reginald." He flattered himself, and with reason, that with a handle to his name, his good looks would procure him a rich wife, when it should become absolutely necessary to him to redeem his fortunes by matrimony. With such personal advantages, aided by the glitter of his Crimean medal, he could hardly,

indeed, have failed. But now, if he has overrated the strength of Brown père's affection for his offspring, he has done for himself altogether.'

'He has done for somebody else also, it appears to me,' said Walter bitterly.

Mrs Sheldon shrugged her plump shoulders and threw out her little hands: That goes without saying, Mr Litton: man and wife are one; such, at least, is the view of the law.'

And I suppose they must now be man and wife,' observed Walter mournfully. There was nothing of selfishness in his thought, only commiseration for what seemed the wretchedness of Lotty's future; but it was with a sarcastic smile that his companion answered: The alternative would be even worse, under the circumstances, my good sir, for the "somebody else," for whom you express so disinterested a solicitude. Matters have gone too far, in the eyes of the world, to admit of retreat, even if Reginald would listen to such a proposition. The girl is of age, and even if she were not, the law is not so paternal as it is (perhaps fortunately) supposed to be by young ladies and their would-be swains. If she were a ward in Chancery, then, indeed, even Reginald's will would have to give way for once, and I myself might get into serious trouble for giving my countenance-though, you will do me the justice to own, I had not the opportunity of refusing it-to yesterday's escapade. You must never run away with a ward in Chancery, remember-unless she is somebody else's wife;' and Mrs Sheldon broke into a light musical laugh, that startled Walter not a little.

"You are shocked,' said she, 'at my want of gravity; but what would you have? The mischief is done, and there is nothing left but to make the best of it. If you will take my advice, you will not put Reginald in a huff by useless expostulation upon a matter which is, after all, his own concern; nor shall I make Lotty sad by allusion to her blank prospects. If evil is to come, it will come soon enough, and let us at least spare her the misery of expecting it. She will be up by this time, and looking for her hostess, so I must say

au revoir.'

'One moment,' said Walter earnestly. May I ask how long-I mean, how soon will the marriage take place?'

'Well, doubtless as soon as the law will permit it. In a case of special license-you will think I have these things at my finger-ends, but I was married myself,' here she gaily touched her wedding-ring, 'under these very circumstances the period of residence is of no consequence. I hope we may succeed in preventing you from being bored to death at Penaddon for the very short time that will be necessary to get the document from Doctors' Commons.'

"I thought of going back home-that is, to town,' said Walter hesitatingly. I only came down to look after Selwyn, and now, of course, I shall be no longer necessary to him.'

'My dear Mr Litton, you are more necessary to him than ever,' replied his companion gravely; 'your presence, indeed, is absolutely indispensable at the marriage itself.'

'How so?' inquired Walter, with amazement. 'Why, you will act, of course, as the deputy of Brown père. You will have to give Lotty away.'

Mrs Sheldon had turned upon her heel, and was half over the churchyard stile (exhibiting a very

charming foot and ankle) before he could recall his senses, scattered by this bombshell of a reply. Give Lotty away! So inhuman a command had never been laid upon him since his first schoolmaster had bid him fetch the stick which was designed to be the instrument of his own correction.

DR GRANVILLE'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. LITTLE more than two years ago passed away an eminent physician, known in London as Dr Granville, who was an Italian by birth, and whose original name was Augusto Bozzi. His autobiography, which has just been published, abounds in interesting reminiscences of public events and personages. While strongly recommending the book for perusal, we take the opportunity of giving a sketch of Bozzi's remarkable career. He was born at Milan on October 7, 1783, his father belonging to an old and respectable family in Lombardy. His mother was an English lady, Rosa Granville, and it was at her request that he, while still a young man, added Granville to his surname. his father's side, young Bozzi could boast of being connected with the Bonapartes, for the Bozzis had settled in Corsica as well as Genoa.

On

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At six years of age, little Augusto, under the protection, no doubt, of the patron saint after whom he was named, was sent to a school 'kept by an old lady ;' whence he progressed through higher establishments, until he entered the University of Pavia, as an undergraduate, at sixteen years of age or a little over, and left, as a doctor of medicine, in his nineteenth year, having obtained his diploma. He had, in the meanwhile, coquetted, not altogether fruitlessly, with architecture, music, and painting; he had displayed great zeal for republicanism,' and had been arrested and imprisoned for his pains. The youthful doctor's diploma was not sufficient, on his return to Milan, to exempt him from the impending conscription; and so, in the capacity of a merchant, he took refuge with his uncle, a cessful whaler,' at Genoa. But he was not much safer at Genoa than he would have been at Milan; and the young enthusiast, who had but lately suffered captivity for the cause of republicanism, was fain to seek an asylum at a theatre at Venice, where he found an engagement, under the title of Signor Augustino. From Venice, the adventurous signor made his way to the Ionian Islands; and at Corfu he met Mr Hamilton, 'who had been filling the post of private secretary in Lord Elgin's embassy at Constantinople,' and with whom he, bearing the title of physician to the English Embassy at Constantinople,' set out for a tour through Greece, and thus, in a manner, took his first step towards England.' This was in 1803; but it was not until 1806 that Signor Bozzi, having in the interval employed his medical talents in the Turkish service, transformed himself into Augustus Bozzi Granville, was introduced to Captain M'Kinlay, at that moment senior officer in the Tagus, commanding His Majesty's frigate Lively,' and was appointed by him 'acting assistant-surgeon to His Majesty's ship Raven.' The appointment, however, did not actually take place until the 8th of March 1807. 'Such,' says the autobiographer, was my initiation into the great community of England, with which my destiny for a period of sixty-five years became indissolubly entwined, my bond of union being

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sealed by my marriage with an English lady, and the birth of seven British-born children. Of five sons, the eldest died in infancy, the second entered the army, the third took holy orders, the fourth gave himself up to the fine arts, and the fifth became an engineer. Of my two daughters, the youngest alone survives as the constant and devoted companion of my old age.' And on that younger daughter devolved the duty, filially but diffidently performed, of adding a few supplementary pages to her father's autobiography.

Dr Granville was not only a fair actor, but a good musician, with the advantage of a fine tenor voice; and, of course, such a combination of accomplishments and natural endowments opened the doors of society to him constantly; and he became a notable character in London.

Of the doctor's anecdotes very many refer to himself personally as the chief character concerned; and they are by no means the least amusing or, at anyrate, curious and striking. He was, in the capacity of a lecturer, endeavouring to make his 'hearers familiar with the labours of Sir Humphry Davy concerning the real nature of chlorine.' He 'had prepared and carefully collected... a considerable volume of chlorine gas in a globular glass vessel, intended to shew the physical not less than its chemical properties,' when by an accident he was deprived of the sense of smell. 'It was,' he says, 'about ten years after the chlorine accident, and the deprivation of my sense of smell, that driving with my wife towards Harrow, and while passing what were then fields celebrated for carpetbeating, but now crowded with houses and streets, I became suddenly sensible of the delicious smell of new hay, which was in the process of being made that day. I pulled up my horse, and remained some time perfectly enchanted with delight (I don't exaggerate) at my recovered sense. We remained nearly an hour motionless, and I drove off towards Harrow, proposing to come back the same way at sunset, hoping to enjoy the same delicions sensation. In this, however, I was disappointed, nor have I ever enjoyed it since.'

Being at Leghorn in 1814, Dr Granville had an opportunity of seeing the Countess d'Albany (widow of the so-called Pretender), to whom he had a letter of introduction. The Countess d'Albany,' he says, 'like most elderly ladies from Central Germany, looked older than her age. At sixty-two, all traces had entirely vanished of that beauty that had for a time subdued a rough and drunken Celtic prince, enslaved the greatest of modern tragic writers (Alfieri), and kept captive to the day of her death an obscure painter (M. Fabre) belonging to the most volatile nation in Europe. Nothing but the prestige of her name and the surviving graces of her manner could explain the desire travellers expressed on arriving at Leghorn to pay their respects to this last remnant of the Stolberg and Cardinal York's families.'

Dr Granville refused the proffered post of physician to the celebrated Ali Pasha, with whom he had frequent interviews, and whose personal appearance, as indicative of character, he thus describes: Under a forehead of brass, inscribed with harshness and obstinacy, were piercing eyes flashing fire at times, and anon darting scorn with the accompanying curl of the lip. Presently, those same eyes would assume the insidious look of meekness calculated to deceive people not on their

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guard against, but rather fascinated by, the prestige of a chief who, while in the plenitude of an almost kingly authority, condescended to converse, argue, and treat with a person not his_equal. Under the spell of those looks, some English travellers succumbed who visited Ali a few years after us, when his name had become still more famous throughout Greece, and his satraps compared him to Philip and Pyrrhus, his predecessors as rulers of the same country. He should have been compared rather with more than one of those tyrannical governors whom the Lacedæmonians, when supreme in Greece, sent to oppress the people, and who met, at length, their fate by treachery and death.'

A most ludicrous account is given of the consternation created by the appearance, at one of Lady Bessborough's suppers after the theatre, of the learned Madame de Staël; the picture reminds one of a number of school-boys afraid to approach the head-master. 'On Madame de Staël entering the room,' it is said, and her name being announced, all the gentlemen assembled retired to the farthest end of the room. Not a creature could be prevailed upon to go and offer to lead madame into the supper-room, each gentleman excusing himself awkwardly, skulking one behind the other. .. At last, Lord Townshend boldly advanced and gave her his arm. .. At supper, matters were rather worse, for on Madame de Staël being seated, the gentlemen drew themselves quietly to the bottom of the table, fearful to be addressed by her. Sheridan was present, .. and when his name was mentioned,' and himself pointed out, Madame de Staël exclaimed, turning to him: "Ah! voilà le grand Sheridan," who, however, did not appear inclined to go up to her, until Lord Holland actually pushed him towards her. She then addressed him with several flattering compliments, to which Sheridan replied by observing that he knew not one word of French.' After this brilliant exhibition on the part of the wittiest and most sparkling talker of his day, 'we others' may surely take courage, and carry off our clumsiness and unreadiness with more gaiety.

...

Dr Granville had the privilege of being acquainted with the wonderful Mezzofanti, who, from the humble station of the son of an artisan, rose to be a cardinal, and one of the pope's ministers, could speak thirty-one languages, exclusive of dialects, all equally well, whether as regards facility or pronunciation-the latter probably the most remarkable speciality of his talent, since he had never once been out of his native country. Being possessed of a prodigious memory, his references to, and citations from, authors of so many nations, were frequent and appropriate, rendering his conversation a perfect intellectual treat.'

Dr Granville happened to be an eye-witness of the fair held on the frozen Thames in 1814, when he had given up the naval service. He hints pretty strongly that his foreign extraction was sometimes a stumbling-block during his career in England; but it did not, at anyrate, interfere with his reception at Sir Joseph Banks's assemblies, at which it was his good-fortune to meet such men as 'Humphry Davy and his brother, Wollaston, Dr Thomas Young, Thomas Brande, Marcet, Henry Brougham, Lansdowne, Herschel, Whewell, Brewster, Henry Ellis, William Lawrence, Leonard Horner, Humboldt, De

Candolle, Doctor Baillie, Sir Astley Cooper, Sir Everard Home, Birkbeck, Stewart, Playfair, and other members of that galaxy of talent which in those days shone so pre-eminently in this land.' At one of these assemblies, as Dr Granville has stated, there took place a strange scene, in which Mr Payne Knight, the eminent antiquary, and Pistrucci, the celebrated cameo-engraver, played the principal parts. Mr Knight had lately, at the price of fifteen hundred pounds, become the happy possessor, as he boasted, of an antique fragmentary cameo, which he would have great pleasure in allowing Signor Pistrucci to examine. Signor Pistrucci was much obliged, examined the cameo most carefully with 'a lens,' returned the precious piece of antiquity to the owner, and quietly remarked: Questa è opera mia l' (I did that). There was, of છે course, what the newspapers call 'sensation.' Mr Knight, feeling his antiquarian reputation at stake, asked how Signor Pistrucci would prove his assertion. Signor Pistrucci answered: "Easily," adding, that his private mark would be found in a certain part, and explaining what his private mark was. There it was, sure enough. But, as if this were not enough, Signor Pistrucci, in less than a fortnight, produced a replica, so indistinguishable from the original, that Mr Payne Knight was unwilling that his own should pass into the hands of the person who held the replica, mounted in a case of the same form, lest there should be no possibility of distinguishing the one from the other.' It turned out, as everybody will have foreseen, that the eminent antiquary had been imposed upon by a still more eminent swindler, who had been mak- | ing profitable use of Signor Pistrucci's talents, and at the same time scantily remunerating the signor. Of the late emperor, Napoleon III., Dr Granville has related an anecdote containing a fact suppressed by order,' according to the doctor's own expression. It is asserted that in July 1840, Prince Louis Napoleon (afterwards Napoleon III.) took leave of his uncle Joseph on board the Batavier, a Dutch steamer.' When the bell for visitors to leave the vessel sounded, and the nephew and uncle separated,' the latter, still holding the former by the hand, said: "There are to be no plots, you understand: keep your money for better purposes; when France wants us, she will be sure to summon us.' 'Be quite easy, uncle,' was the reply: 'you may rely on me.' 'Really?' exclaimed the other, with tears in his eyes. On my honour,' replied the prince, as, with one hand on his heart, to emphasise the expression, he turned on his heel and was gone. Those words still rang in Dr Granville's ears thirty years after the notorious affair of Boulogne,' which occurred within a few days of that interview which Dr Granville witnessed, and has recorded. The doctor has expressed an opinion that readers may be embarrassed in the choice of a right appellative to be affixed to the conduct' described.

It was Dr Granville's fate, in his prophetic character, of which he was not a little proud, to meet sometimes with as little honour as if he had been in his own country, or as if he had been own brother to Cassandra. He was much employed, professionally, in Russia, amongst persons of rank, and even amongst members of the imperial family. He, accordingly, wrote to Lord Palmerston a long letter, which, if the 'professional warning' it contained had been heeded, might, we are asked to

believe, have prevented the Crimean War, but which Lord Palmerston merely acknowledged with the curt response: My dear sir, your letter of the 6th has been duly received.' When, however, we reflect that the prediction of the pathologist,' to the effect that, before July 1855, when the emperor would be fifty-nine years old,' the haughty and irritable Czar would suddenly collapse and be removed, was confessedly assisted to fulfilment by that very war, the 'prognosis' loses a little of its infallibility. Alma, Inkermann, Balaklava,' we are told, 'shook the mighty brain;' and 'Eupatoria completed the stroke.' If, then, none of these events had happened, it seems reasonable to suppose that the mighty brain' would not have been shaken, the stroke would not have been 'completed,' and the emperor might have lived to read Dr Granville's autobiography.

Not the least amusing characteristic of the autobiography is the ingenuous simplicity with which Dr Granville, to use a homely phrase, 'blows his own trumpet.' He was at Dover, when he read in a newspaper an account of the dangerous state' of the lamented Princess Charlotte. He arrived in London too late to offer his services, but, had I arrived one day sooner,' we read, 'Sir Walter Farquhar, as physician to the Prince Regent, would have recommended that a medical man fresh from a Paris lying-in hospital should be called in. The difficulty once overcome that threatened two lives, and these saved, the British crown might have descended on a different head. Never could it have been worn by one more fitted to fill the exalted_station than the august lady who now wears that crown, only my own fate would have been different, for I should have filled the office which fell instead on a brother naval-officer of mine, the late Sir James Clark, Baronet.'

In setting up in London, Dr Granville had the tact to fall into the style of dress and manner of the more pompous class of metropolitan physicians. He says that, although his cheeks were very smooth, I had, however, from the very commencement of my practice, taken care to assume the garb of a much older person, by adopting the dress I saw Sir Henry Halford, Dr Latham, and other popular physicians wear, at which the sprightly M.D.s of the present day would laugh indeed. Yet was that style not only in fashion then, but positively expected in a practising physician. So I donned a square-cut coat of black cloth, a single-breasted black cloth waistcoat, descending low down, shewing off the well-starched frill of an irreproachable white shirt, smalls with knee-buckles, black silk stockings, and buckles in shining black narrow pumps. I did not adopt the gold-headed cane as well, but wore powder and a broad-brimmed hat, which completed the dress. It certainly added age to my appearance, and I was not long in getting used to it, as I had done to the more theatrical transformation in the Levant, when I assumed the Turkish vestments; but, oh! how different, with the bother of buttons and buckles in the present instance! Fortunately, the dons in physic whom I had taken for models, soon swerved from the stiff practice, to become more modernised in their views, and I was not long in following their steps by adopting the more ordinary day garb of all gentlemen.'

Any readers who desire to know more about his struggle to get into practice in the metropolis,