!

but don't think about marrying. That won't do. You are too young -don't let things go too far; learn to know something of the world; every one has his own good points; consider, therefore, what is fitting for yourself: make Herr von Hahn's acquaintance-if you don't like him, off he shall go. I will not force you to anything, only, on the other hand, do not force me."

Thus was domestic peace restored, and a threatened storm diverted by Madame Bantes's prudence, and changed into a soft genial shower. Former cheerfulness was, as far as could be, restored, and things resumed their ordinary course. Frederica, quite at ease, thanked Heaven that she had so far succeeded, and felt a confident hope of "better things" to come. Herr Bantes, too, anticipated from the future "better things." He was rejoiced that Frederica had resumed her former gaiety, and put his plan into execution of writing to the general. Madame Bantes, who loved with equal tenderness her husband and her daughter, hoped less, feared less; she left events to the guidance of Heaven. She regarded Waldrich as an adopted son; but she also highly valued Herr von Hahn, not only on account of the favourable reports she had received of him, but also on account of her husband's prepossession in his favour. anxious for her daughter's happiness; to her it was means of whom that object was accomplished.

She was only indifferent by

(To be continued.)

L'EMPEREUR EST MORT.

BY THE EARL OF WINCHILSEA AND NOTTINGHAM.

F scourge and thong how sore's the need!
Back, yelping curs of Rochefort's breed!
Back, sons of Communistic greed!
E'en hang the head!

From all your treacheries he's freed--
A great man's dead!

His faults, mayhap, were not a few,
But loyal were his aims and true;
He failed as most French rulers do-
But he loved France:

While you, ye fickle, noisy crew,
Eyed him askance.

From first to last, from great to small,
Who rightly answered duty's call?
But Nemesis prepared his fall,
While yours lacked point;

Small creeping maggots bred in all
Times out of joint.

To him was given perhaps no right
For which a chivalry will fight;

But he found France in woeful plight
With none to speed-

Long past the cure of words polite-
And did a deed!

He found her outraged and forlorn,
The shuttlecock of every scorn,
The waif of a late schemer born
Of her old kings,

And dared to promise her a dawn
Of better things.

And had you rallied round him then With heart and hand, with will and pen, Ye puny sons of better men!

France had been saved.

But 'stead of this, the Lord knows when Fools worse behaved.

Your Nobles longed for Kings gone by,
That bruised reed your Bourgeoisie
For anything that pleased the eye
Or filled the purse ;

There was a talk of Liberty-
That specious curse.

With every principle mislaid,
With every rule of right gainsaid,
With every office made a trade,
The Press a trap,

The Nation muzzled and betrayed—
What worse could hap?

He gave you order-gave you, too,
A lost prestige built up anew;
For, in a word, he governed you
Wisely and well;

And History, if her page speak true,
Shall one day tell

Of Italy from slavery freed,

Old foes in amity agreed,

And Commerce, in her utmost need,
Relieved from wrong ;

He could not check official greed-
That was too strong.

What were his crimes let others say.
A desp'rate game he had to play;
And much he did in his short day
To curb the pranks

Of rogues that on fat burghers prey—
And got small thanks.

TABLE TALK.

BY SYLVANUS URBAN, GENTLEMAN.

A MINISTERIAL crisis is an exciting and by no means unpleasant incident, except to the Sovereign and to the defeated Government. There is the long debate with the heavy speeches before dinner, the prosy speeches during the dinner hour, and the excited speeches after dinner. On the last night the House is crammed. The floor is inconveniently crowded, and distinguished strangers fill the galleries. About eleven o'clock the leader of the Opposition rises amidst cheers and talks till past midnight. He is followed by the leader of the House, who, after replying to various arguments, winds up with a rhetorical flourish. The division is called, and strangers withdraw. When the reporters are readmitted the members have returned from the lobbies, and there is a hubbub of conversation. The tellers appear. There is a minute of silence and eager expectation. The paper is put into the hands of the Opposition whip. There is an outburst of cheering such as can be heard nowhere save in the House of Commons. The numbers are declared, and again the Opposition cheers, and enthusiastic members wave their hats. There is a gathering of Ministers in front of the Treasury Bench. In four or five minutes the leader advances to the table and requests that the House do at its rising adjourn for two or three days. A week of negotiation ensues. In the public-house parlour as well as in the clubs, in the City as well as at the West End, men eagerly discuss the situation. The excitement is not confined to the metropolis. A Ministerial crisis forebodes a general election, and that among other things signifies the expenditure of at least two millions sterling. The crisis of March, 1873, was exceptionally agreeable to the public. Mr. Gladstone has had a long spell of office, and though the English people are averse to constitutional changes, they like a change of Ministry. Moreover, the Gladstone Ministry is not so popular as it was in December, 1868.

The resignation of Mr. Gladstone placed the Opposition in a very awkward predicament. It was impossible for Mr. Disraeli to assume office in the face of a majority of 80 or 85, unless he did so with the avowed purpose of despatching necessary business and then