that Anna di Scala was a most beautiful woman; and when she heard that when Cunnington first met her she was single, no wonder she was perplexed how Anna had united her fate with that of a man so much older than herself, whilst many a token, perceived only by Alice's watchful eye, conspired to tell her where the baroness's heart was wandering.

But Cunnington was daily becoming a more sensible man: it seemed as if his own errors were bringing out his reformation, and he who had so dreaded seeing Anna, now remembered with bitter sorrow, that he had lost for a shadow a bright reality.

Could he be every day with Alice, and not repent of his folly in trifling with her? How many a time his pride smothered the words which were rising to his lips, as every hour displayed some feminine virtue in the bride he once coveted. But the

:

epoch Lady Cunnington had looked forward to had arrived her son was becoming thoughtful, serious, and studious, and in embracing a political career, he seemed to be fully sensible of the arduous duties of the task. Senior members courted his company; they bid their new brother not to be too elated; they warned him that military, judicial, literary, or political fame, brings in its train a host of enemies. Friends even become weary when fame hovers too brightly round one head; and although Pope says "Give your enemies your works to read, it will disarm them, whereas your friend is a part of yourself;" if this maxim be as faulty in political as in a literary sense, Cunnington had more to expect from the public than from his friends. Steadily our hero pursued his studies, and in order to let the world know upon what principles he started, his mother advised him to pub

lish a little work, which was called The Duties of a Politician.' This little work was much applauded, and the reader became at once convinced of the worth of a heart not ashamed to own how weak it had been, and thirsting for a new life of political vigour.

"You never thought I should be an author," said Cunnington playfully to the Baroness de Scala, when he found himself at a reunion with her one evening.

"I should not be astonished to hear anything of you," was the reply. "Indeed we

often remain so long in a state of mental lethargy, that we are wonderfully astonished to find how much genius we possess, until some cause, very trifling in itself, makes us suddenly aware of our powers. You seem wonderfully aware of the responsibility of public career; are you prepared for all its disappointments and strife, my lord ?”

"You used to call me Cunnington."

"No matter; you used to be a very different character: but answer my question."

"To be candid, then, I am rather ambitious to gain fame, and the strife seems to me easily overcome by patience and diligence."

"And pray, Lord Cunnington, if, as your work says, ' a politician must never be idle, he must have no leisure, he must be condescending enough to examine lowly ha bitations, and listen patiently to irksome complaints; then he must hold a conference with his own reason; if he feel that it be necessary, he must amend the condition of those he really considers oppressed: if it be a supposed grievance, founded on indolence, and the natural discontent of the poorer classes, he must, at the risk of offending those who otherwise would have applauded, refuse to occupy the time of members of

parliament in bringing the requested petition forward.' Lord Cunnington, you see I have studied your work; and now I ask you, do you wish to be a brilliant or a useful politician?”

Useful, by all means."

Then, my lord, you vainly look for fame, or, at least, you vainly count upon it in your years of strength; it may come some day, but very late."

Meglio tardi che mai," replied Cunnington.

Very true; but in that known proverb how many bitter thoughts are concealed! It seems to me that the most worthy politicians of the age are generally the most severely used. Censorious papers handle revered names as if they were talking of some actor, who, in coming before the public, has ever his own fortune in view."

"Oh, you must never mind an English