des Officiers d'Artillerie de la Republique Helvétique," and this was followed in 1841 by a little tribute: "Aux Mânes de l'Empereur;" by "Notes sur les Amorces Fulminantes et sur les Attelages;" and by his "Fragments Historiques." In 1842 he published his "Analyse de la Question de Suisse,” and in 1843 his "Réponse à M. de Lamartine." Again, in 1844, a tract on the "Extinction du Pauperisme," and in 1846 his celebrated "Idées Napoleoniennes."

The works of Napoleon III. have appeared several times in a complete form, the last edition having been published in four volumes, between 1854 and 1857. The "Euvres Militaires" of Napoleon III. were also published, separately, in 1866. Lastly, the two first volumes of the "Histoire de Jules César," a work which has been translated into several languages, appeared in 1865 and 1866.

It is not so generally known that the pamphlets entitled "Politique de la France en Algerie," published in June, 1865; the "Carte de la Situation Militaire de l'Europe," published in October, 1868; and the "Titres de la Dynastie Napoleonienne," published in December, 1868, emanated from the same fertile pen.

EDWARD BULWER-LORD LYTTON.

Although late in the field, it would be a dereliction of duty and respect, and it would be doing injustice to our own feelings, to pass over the loss which literature has sustained in the decease of one of its most eminent representatives-Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton.

The successful administrator, the brilliant orator, the sparkling essayist, the admirable dramatist, the most versatile and accomplished man of his time, the magician who carried us with him withersoever he would; into the cloudland of fable and fancy, into the spiritual abodes of dreamy love, into the domains of noble ambition; anywhere, everywhere, as his own wandering and soaring prompted him; the man of letters, the politician, the kindly favourite of society, the student, the scholar, the statesman, the country gentleman; greedy death, it has been justly observed, has swallowed up all these in the single person of Lord Lytton.

Truly England, and indeed the whole world into which the breath of genius can penetrate, is a loser by the passing away of its most charming and successful exponent, and the average of living worth and literary power is materially lowered, when he who raised them by his rare and transcendent abilities, by his wonderful attainments and by his almost unmatched industry, is taken away from us.

Lord Lytton was, it is to be observed, not only editor of the

New Monthly Magazine in 1833, but he was also a frequent contributor to its pages under other distinguished editors more especially when under the charge of the eminent novelist, William Harrison Ainsworth. He died in harness, the brilliant story of "The Parisians" still passing through Blackwood's Magazine. There was indeed no amount of industry, no stretch of versatility to which he was not equal, and so also there was no proof of unwearying labour, no effort of the imagination, and no fresh evidence of genius that was not to be anticipated of him.

FRONTIERS OF AFGHANISTAN.

It appears from the last despatch published upon the Central Asian Question, addressed by Prince Gortchakow to Count Brunnow, and dated Jan. 19-31, 1873, that the Russian government has decided upon accepting the line of boundary laid down by England, and which cedes the Turkestan provinces of Afghanistan to Shere Ali. These provinces extend from Wakhan, at the foot of the Pamir Steppe, by Faizabad, or Badakshan, on the Upper Oxus, and Kunduz, Khulm or Tash Kurgan, and Balkh, on tributaries to the same river, to And-Khuy, the country of the Alieli Turkomans, and Sir-i-pul, the country of the Mongolian Seherai; in fact, as the boundaries are marked on Vambéry's map.

There was, probably, no alternative to secure the alliance of Afghanistan, but to uphold the integrity of the monarchy, otherwise it would be impossible not to admit that it would have been wiser to have limited our responsibilities to Afghanistan, south of the Hindhu Kush, with a defensive frontier, than to have become, to a certain extent, responsible for the maintenance of order over an extensive territory, the limits of which are ill-defined, the frontiers exposed, and its chieftains often at variance with regard to the tenure of land; and that in Central Asia, contiguous to Russia at Samarkand, and altogether removed from the natural boundaries of India.

The opening of the Euphrates Valley, which so much more concerned the interests of Great Britain and India than the protectorate of Turkestan provinces in Central Asia, has at the same time been shelved-at all events for the time being-by Her Majesty's government. Is it possible that the concession thus made by Russia has had (from mere courtesy) to be met by a far greater concession on the part of England? Some account of the frontier between the Uzbeg and Afghan States, now, as foretold in the Proc. of Roy. Geo. Soc., vol. xvi., p. 341, "the line of division between the Russian and British-Indian Empires," will be given in next number.

"Lucy was

telling Cecil the history of her sister's last moments."-p. 238.

It was a beautiful day in spring, when all nature seemed to be reviving, and shaking off the burden of the long, damp winter; the grass was springing, the buds swelling, the linnets and blackbirds flying busily to their half-built nests laden with moss and straw; the larches and firs filling the mild though still damp air with their peculiarly delicious fragrance. A nook in the very heart of Finn Hill plantation-a nook where every choice greenery attained rankest perfection-in fact, the very fern-shadowed and moss-cushioned nook where Cecil spent the day before taking his final leave of Geraldine, was especially beautiful that spring morning.

Nature was peaceful in her ever young beauty; but there were human hearts in that peaceful nook, whose tumultuous passions accorded but ill with her tranquil gladness.

Two figures stood in the foreground, a slender, girlish figure in the deepest mourning, with little hands clasped tightly, and heavy crape veil thrown back from a pale face, eyes red from shedding many tears, and cheeks blanched by long sorrow.

Beside her was a young man, weeping in all the abandonment of grief, his soldierly figure bent, and his broad shoulders shaking with the rarely displayed extremity of manly sorrow, so harrowing for a woman to see.

April-VOL. III. NO. XVI.

R