Carlier, "I will have him arrested for you; but it will cost money."

"I do not care for that,' the Minister replied.

"Three days after, Blanqui was arrested in this way. M. Carlier sent for an excessively demagogic but poor chief of a club, and said to him, without further preface

"Ah, it is you, sir? Be good enough to sit down, and allow me to enter into matters at once. I have always thought that the only reason why you were so exalted in the opinions you profess was because you had not a penny piece to call your own.'

"Really, sir

"Pray allow me to speak without interruption, and you can answer me afterwards. We desire to arrest Blanqui. Here are six thousand-franc notes, which are yours if you agree to tell us at what spot and at what hour this arrest can be effected, as you know where he goes and what he does. You need only speak one word to earn this sum."" And the word was spoken.

SPRING CHANSON.

general public; but, four years afterwards, the publication of "Atalanta in Calydon" at once placed the young and ardent poet in the first rank among our living bards.

He was enabled to dispute the laurels with Browning and Tennyson. The feeling and inspiration of the "Atalanta" are thoroughly Greek, and it is written in rich yet simple English, artfully elaborated into most liquid verse.

There is no poet whose verses are more beautifully liquid and flowing than Mr. Swinburne's, and this quality is quite distinctive of him. His power of rhyming is wonderful. "Sestina," the poem published in this magazine lately, bears witness to this, as there are only two rhymes all through it.

Subsequently to the publication of "Atalanta in Calydon," Mr. Swinburne produced (in 1865) "Poems and Ballads." However beautiful many of the poems in this volume were, their charm was destroyed by others which were neither wholesome nor good.

Of late, Mr. Swinburne has turned over a new leaf, and all his recently published verses are as unobjectionable in matter as they are poetic in inspiration and finished in execu

Sing! for the heaven above you is all free:
Sometime the fruit will come upon the tree.

Sing in the bold, high passion of your song, The god-like truths all waxing ever strong, With good increase for waiting ages long: To you, the prophets, all our hopes belong. Yet we, the lovers of the glad, sweet spring, Who choose by happy fits and starts to sing Our own light carols on the random wing, May lend a tribute worth the welcoming. The hearts of men are happy for all time Who love the music of the natural prime; And while they sadden to the far sublime, Scorn not withal the lighter-hearted chime

Of those who chant, as birds ere yet they rest,
A happy vesper to the quiet west,
And leave one sweet consoling in the breast,
With present troubles all too strong opprest.

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

R. SWINBURNE, who was born at Holmwood, in Surrey, in 1843, received his education at Eton and Oxford. He left the university without taking a degree, and in 1861 published his first poems-"The Queen Mother," and "Rosamond."

These first efforts were not received with much favour either by the critics or by the

Mr. Swinburne's writings, it can never be denied that they are the productions of a true poet.

IT

THE CITY OF YORK.

T is said that York is an aristocratic city, and her royal descent and geographical position give her a right to be so. She owes her beginning to Etraucus, a Roman prince; and is situated in one of the richest and pleasantest valleys in England. It may occasion a slight shock to nerves that are not strong to learn that the word "Ebor" means "wild boar;" but truth is above everything, and there was in the neighbourhood of the city much to suggest the name. Within an hour's walk from its walls, stretching out to the north-west, began an immense forest, which was a harbour for this rude and fierce animal; and you may see now, over the north door of the west end of the cathedral, a sign of those times in the figures of a wild boar pursued by huntsmen and hounds.

It seems, at this time, that if there were wild boars outside the city, there were good and wise men within it. About a mile's distance from the north-west angle of its walls, there still remain three monumental

hills, raised in memory of the courage and virtues of Severus, a prince and governor of the city.

This prince is spoken of, by an historian of the time, as having "an excellent and piercing judgment, diligent in the study of the liberal arts, and eloquent and persuasive in counsel and speech. His last words to his sons contained a judicious mixture of Christian and military principles. 'Do everything,' he said, 'that conduces to each other's good. Cherish the soldiery, and then you may despise the rest of mankind.""

The century after his death was a time of great peace in Britain, during which most of those excellent roads were made of which traces have continually been found in the neighbourhood of York, which seems to have been a central station, and standing in the same relation to them as the heart does to the human body. By these roads, the city was placed in direct communication with the chief ports on the coast; but they were constructed more for military than trading purposes. The main channel for trade was the river Ouse, which was helped to bear and give rest to its burdens by a huge basin of water that came close up to the castle walls-then used as a storehouse for corn-and which has long descended in the scale of uses, and now bears the ominous name of "the Foss."

GUMMER'S FORTUNE. BY JOHN BAKER HOPKINS.

AT

CHAPTER IX.

THE DEPUTATION.

ar

T the appointed time, Mr. Busted and his friends-a dozen of them rived in a private omnibus. They all had clean shirts with prodigious collars, new shiny hats, and black kid gloves on the left hand only-the right being bare, for the purpose of shaking. When the deputies were shown in, they coughed in chorus, piled their hats upon the piano, and wiped their foreheads with silk handkerchiefs of gorgeous patterns. I repeat that if Busted had been my Siamese twin brother, only cut loose a week before, he could not have been more affectionate. He seized my hand, nearly dislocated my shoulder, and the ban tam cock of my signet ring was engraved on the flesh of my second finger. The deputation followed the example of their leader,

and I noticed that their hands were warm and moist.

"Gentlemen," said Busted, "fellow-electors, I am proud to introduce you to my esteemed and intimate friend, Mr. Thomas Gummer."

I bowed to the deputies, and the deputies cried "Hear, hear."

"Gentlemen," said Busted, "we will proceed to business. When you have a point, fix on it at once."

Cries of "Hear, hear," and stamping on the floor.

Busted, whose height was not in proportion to his circumference, mounted upon a footstool, blew his nose, wiped his forehead, coughed as if he had a herring bone in his throat, put his arms akimbo as well as his stoutness would allow, and stared fiercely at the chandelier.

Cries of "Hear, hear," and more stamping on our brand-new best Brussels.

"Mr. Gummer, sir-We, the chairman and committee of the Voters' Protection Association, have the honour to wait on you as a deputation for the purpose of laying before you resolutions proposed at our last meeting, and the which our worthy secretary, Mr. Boocock, will read." (Applause.)

Mr. Boocock, a bilious-looking chemist and druggist, in a white choker, read the resolutions with impressive solemnity. Mrs. Gummer and the girls, who were listening outside, declared that no parson could have been more imposing.

"Resolved, that, in the opinion of the Voters' Protection Association, Mr. Thomas Gummer, from his long-tried and consistent Liberalism, from his devotion to the interests of the great middle class, the backbone of the country, from his high character and his noble benevolence, is a fit and proper person to represent our important borough in the House of Commons.

"Resolved, that our honourable chairman and our committee be requested to wait on Mr. Thomas Gummer, and to ask him to allow himself to be put in nomination at the next election.

"Resolved, that if Mr. Thomas Gummer consents to contest the borough, we pledge ourselves to secure his return by every means in our power.

"Signed on behalf of the meeting by

Nathaniel Busted, Chairman, and countersigned by Horatio Washington Boocock, Secretary."

Busted remounted the footstool, and made a long speech. He praised the public spirit and patriotism of the association. He declared that he gloried in the name of Briton. He wound up by saying Mr. Boocock had drawn up a list of questions, which he pledged his public reputation to that deputation, to the association, and to the country, that I would answer satisfactorily. Mr. Horatio Washington Boocock then read the questions:

"Are you prepared to defend and advance to their culminating glory those eternal principles of British liberty which are the envy and admiration of the world?

"Will you support a measure for limiting the shooting season to two months: a measure which would benefit the farmer, and also the mighty heart of the British empire, by lengthening the London season? "Will you vote for the exemption of men of business from the odious and inquisitorial income tax?

"Will you vote for less taxes and more efficiency?

"Will you vote for the local parliaments called vestries having the full control of the local taxes?

"Will you support a measure for compelling the newspapers to report the debates of the local parliaments as fully as they do the debates of the Parliament at Westminster?"

The deputation brought a reporter; and according to the report in the Elector's Spur, copied into the Green Lanes Herald, I find that I gave an unqualified assent to all these propositions, that I addressed the deputation with spirit and eloquence, that I consented to stand at the next election, and that my speech was loudly cheered.

After the talk came the sherry. Again Mr. Busted rolled the wine from cheek to cheek, and pronounced it light and clean.

"None of your South African offal, gentlemen," he remarked to the deputation. "None of your headache poison at three bob a bottle. Our honourable friend, gentlemen, has a palate that can't be took in, and a purse equal to his taste. A light and clean sherry, Mr. Gummer, is not come across everywheres."

Yes, Busted treated me as if I belonged to him, body, soul, and estate. He told the deputation that Corcyra Villa was a long leasehold, and that Mr. Gummer knew better what to do with his "ready" than to sink it in bricks and mortar. He had not seen Mrs. Gummer or the girls, but he spoke of them in a fatty, fatherly sort of way. He called me on one side, and whispered that a subscription of £50 to the funds of the association would be a good investment; and, before I could answer, he favoured me with an expressive wink, mounted the stool, and said

"I am very happy to inform you, gentlemen, that my honourable friend and our future member has given a first subscription of £50 to the funds of our association." (Immense applause.)

Busted then proposed a glass of sherry all round to my health, ditto to my family, ditto to the association, and ditto to the borough.

The repeated glasses did not in the least affect Busted or his friends—and I am told that local politicians are used to sherry-but they were telling on me. I was reflecting on the possible consequences of the deputies seeing their future member somewhat shaky on his legs, and obfuscated, when Busted said

"Gentlemen, we must not keep the conveyance any longer. Drivers is human, and horseflesh is money."

After shaking hands-my signet ring lacerating the flesh of my finger-the deputation got out of the house, into the omnibus, and went off-not, however, before Busted had pointed out to the deputies the garden and the elevation of Corcyra Villa.

I am not a revengeful man — at least, I think not- but to kick that bumptious Busted, or to see him kicked, would be a real and most heartfelt pleasure.

"Gummer," said my wise wife, "we don't make our own ladders; and we must put up with what come to us, or remain on the ground. And when one is up, it is easy to kick down the ladder; but it's foolish to do so whilst one is mounting. And what, Gummer, can you expect from a Busted that is a tradesman, and lives by trade, and is ashamed of the trade that feeds and clothes and houses him, and calls himself by a grand name? A man who thinks himself above himself is beneath your notice."

THE

CHAPTER X.

OLD BLOOD AND NEW MONEY.

HE genuine aristocracy of the Green Lanes are the De Crespins. Their place, Grammont Lodge, is not extensive, but well walled-in. The family are not heavy in their dress; and their roomy brougham, with one fat horse, is not a staring turn-out. Colonel De Crespin has a limited income for the support of his family, which consists of himself, wife, two daughters, and a son. Poor they are, but they are born aristocrats. All the De Crespins are presented at Court. Every year the papers announce that Colonel De Crespin attended the Levée. The De Crespins are highly connected. One first cousin is a live baronet, and another first cousin is married to a live lord. The De Crespins do not mix up with the Green Lanes gentility. They are benevolently civil to the rector, and politely civil to the doctor. They are short-spoken to their tradespeople, and gracious to the working classes. But between the De Crespins and the Green Lanes gentility there is a wall of ice.

"I hate those Crespins," said Mrs. Gummer. "They go marching about, like undertakers out of mourning, with their heads turned up, and with eyes for nothing except their own noses, which are big enough and crooked enough."

But when we came into our fortune the De Crespins became friendly, as if the Gummers had emigrated with Julius Cæsar, and had lived in a castle for thousands of years. Colonel De Crespin called and asked me to attend the flower show. Mrs. De Crespin and the Misses De Crespin left cards. The De Crespins shook hands with us in the church porch, and the Green Lanes gentility were as much amazed as if the sun and earth had come together.

"Gummer," said my wife, "we were out about the Crespins, for they are nice and homely folk as ever wore stockings. There is none of your fal-de-ral-hee-haw stuff about them. Instead of asking how the young ladies are, as Mrs. Bungay does, Mrs. De Crespin asks after the girls. Tom, she's a mother and a woman."

A few days after the deputation, the Colonel came to see me.

"Well, Mr. Gummer, you are a Liberal and I am a Tory, as the De Crespins always have been and always will be. Not that it matters the dust of a fig-leaf which side a man takes.

In this happy country, politics is a sham fight for the amusement of the million, who pay for the game. The Liberals give as little as they can, and the Tories give no more than they are obliged. But allow me to say, Mr. Gummer, that a metropolitan seat will not be worth the money and trouble it will cost you. A snug borough will suit you best; and I can find you one. I presume you do not care for politics. Why should you? You don't want a Garter, and you could not get it if you did. You don't want a title, because you have not a son. My dear Mr. Gummer, a man who bores himself about politics without a motive is a fool; and a fool is sure to fail. You are right to go into the House. It is not a bad club-bar the cooking; and it is useful from a social point of view."

Before the Colonel left, he invited us to dine at Grammont Lodge.

"Nothing formal, and dinner at sharp seven."

Mrs. Gummer and the girls were delighted. "Gummer, depend upon it, my judgment is not far off the bull's-eye. That young Mr. Max De Crespin is like a fish on a hook with Janet, and the family know it. Gummer, what have I said times and times out of memory? Those girls would marry at the tip-top of the tree, and be a credit to our bringing-up."

The invitation caused us much trouble and worry. As it was a family party, ought we to go in full dress? On the advice of a West-end milliner, full dress was determined on. Mrs. Gummer was persuaded to leave off her cap, and to wear a low body.

"Not, Tom, that I fancy such Guy Fawkes business at my time; but if I look middling juvenile it makes the girls more so, and the younger girls are the more tender they are in the eyes of men."

For a whole week we thought and talked of nothing but the dinner party. We learnt the "Etiquette of the Dinner Table" by heart; but that book is of very little use, for the host and hostess did nothing it said they would do. On the grand day we dined early-that is to say, we lunched at one o'clock; and at four o'clock the labour of dressing began. A hairdresser from Bondstreet, specially retained, arrived in a cab, and commenced operations on the head of Mrs. Gummer; and, certainly, the effect was surprising. What with the head design of the hairdresser, and the powder and rouge