was his situation at the close of the fourth year of his marriage.

inroad on his capital, that he had now little more than seventy pounds remaining in his banker's hands. Such

"Well, Julia," said Henry, with a forced attempt at a smile, as they sate together one morning at breakfast, I fear that my father's prediction will be fulfilled, and that I shall shortly be reduced to as complete a state of destitution as he could desire."

"For Heaven's sake, Henry, do not speak in this sneering way of your father. Harsh he may be, because he thinks you have given him cause for displeasure; but it cannot be that he is such as you imagine. Try, then, to effect a reconciliation with him; remember, love, we are parents ourselves, and in our old age should feel acutely any neglect on the part of our child."

"Julia," replied Raymond gravely, "you know not my father. He acts rigidly according to what he calls principle; and when he has once resolved on a particular line of conduct, no consideration on earth can induce him to swerve from it."

"But, consider, it is now upwards of four years since you had your dispute with him. Surely he cannot harbour resentment for so long a pcriod! You know how often I have entreated you to write to him; but you cannot know how much pain your disinclination to do so has caused me. Believe me-for I speak not in anger, but in sad sincerity-I scarcely feel that you deserve to succeed, so long as you voluntarily live estranged from your father. You will write to him, then; wont you, love?" and the young mother looked beseechingly in her husband's face, while a tear trem. bled in her eye.

Subdued by the earnestness of his wife's appeal, Raymond no longer hesitated, but that same day sent off a respectful and contrite letter to his father, wherein he implored him to send an early answer, if it were but a line, just to say that he forgave him. But no reply came, infinitely to Julia's astonishment, whose benignant nature could not conceive it possible that a parent could so long cherish angry feelings towards a son.

"I told you how it would be," ob. served Henry, when, having waited a fortnight, they had both given up all expectation of a reply. "I knew that, by declining to enter into his views respecting commerce, I had offended my father past forgiveness."

"It cannot be helped, Henry; but you have done your duty, and should sad days be in store for us, this will be a consolation to you, as I am sure it will be to me."

"Sad days!" replied Raymond. "Ah, Julia, we shall not have to wait long for them. I fear we must quit our cottage without delay, and take cheap apartments in some obscure quarter of town. I have delayed this communication till the last moment, knowing how much it would grieve you; but the painful truth must be told-I have now little to look to, save the pittance that I may be able, from time to time, to pick up from the booksellers. O God!" he added," my father's prediction is already half accomplished."

"Do not take this so much to heart, Henry," said his generous, highminded wife; "to me one place is the same as another, and I can be happy any where, so long as I retain your love. Leave me but that, dearest, and I shall feel that I am still rich in the only treasure I ever coveted."

The dreaded communication thus made, Raymond instantly prepared to act on it. He disposed of the remainder of his lease, sold his furniture at a heavy loss, and even got rid of the major portion of his favourite classics. He could not, however, make up his mind to part with his wife's piano; for he well knew how dear it was to her, as being the first present he had made her, subsequent to their marriage. With how many pleasant recollections, too, was it not associated in his own mind! How many a time had he sate delighted beside Julia, as her slender fingers passed lightly over the ivory keys! No, he could not part with the piano; but, when he acquainted his wife with this determination, she, with the disinterestedness peculiar to

her character, surrendered all her own private feelings, and even urged him to the painful sacrifice. Finally, however, it was agreed that the instrument should not be disposed of till the last necessity.

Raymond's next endeavour was to find some cheap suburban lodgings; and, after much hunting about, he fixed upon two furnished apartments in a small back street, in the neighbourhood of Islington. 'Twas a dismal contrast his new abode presented to that to which he had been so long used. An old rickety mahogany table, discoloured with ink spots, stood in the middle of his sitting-room; the cobwebbed curtains were threadbare and full of darns, the faded Kidderminster carpet looked as though it had been bought a bargain at Rag Fair, the window-frames shook and rattled in every wind, and the adjoining bedroom, which was little better than a spacious closet, had no furniture but such as was of the homeliest description. But Julia cared not for these things; for her husband was with her, and her child was thriving apace. Her simple and elegant taste soon produced a striking change in the aspect of her new lodgings. The curtains were taken down, and freed from dust and cobwebs, the carpet neatly mended, a few flowers placed in the window-stand, and a few of her own drawings hung on the wall-all which improvements she had to execute herself; for, on quitting the cottage, she had parted with her two servants, and retained only the services of her landlady's daughter, an active girl about fifteen years of age.

"It must be confessed, Henry," she said to her husband, on the first night of their removal to Islington, "that our situation is not quite so choice a one as we could have wished; but let us not be disheartened, love, for it is a long lane that has no turning."

In this way Julia strove to sustain her husband's courage, who, no longer hankering for literary renown-that radiant illusion was dispelled-but anxious only to provide for the wants of the passing day, applied to several booksellers for employment, offering to correct proofs, revise MSS., in short, do just whatever they might require. But his applications were unsuccessful, chiefly because he wanted that business-like air which indi

cates the practised and willing drudge. One bookseller-an illiterate fellow of the Jacob Tonson school-frankly told him that he was too much of a gentleman to suit his purposes; for that what he required was a hardworking man, with "no nonsense about him. "Cambridge be d―d!” added this enlightened bibliopole of forty years since, in reply to a hint thrown out by Raymond, that, as he had received a university education, he might, perhaps, be found not wholly inefficient" Cambridge be d-d! and Oxford, too; I'm sick of their very names. Never yet published any thing, at my own expense, for a university man, that I warn't the loser by it. Brought out only last year a translation of Juvenal, by Dr Prosy of Oxford, and a Treatise on Pneumatics, by Dr Problem of Cambridge, and never sold more than forty copies of either of them. Devil take both universities, say I! Good day, Mr Raymond; sorry we're not likely to suit each other; hope you may be more lucky elsewhere. I wish you good morning, sir."

The cavalier manner in which these remarks were made, stung Henry to the quick with a strong effort, however, he managed to repress his feelings, and quitted the bookseller's presence without a word. On his way home, at the corner of a street leading into Holborn, a person hurried past, whose features, he imagined, were familiar to him; and turning hastily round, he recognised his old college friend Jenkins, who, he felt convinced, had also recognised him, but was anxious to shirk his acquaintance. Nor was this impression an erroneous one. It was, indeed, his friend of earlier and happier years, the eager sharer in his schoolboy pranks at Belford, and his more reckless follies at Cambridge, who, having caught sight of his seedy habiliments, on which the word " penury was stamped in legible characters, feltwith the false pride peculiar to weak minds-a sort of shame at being seen in the public streets speaking to so shabby a personage! Had Raymond been trimly attired, as in other days, the case had been far different; but it was not in the nature of a Jenkins

and the mass of society is made up of Jenkinses-to withstand the blighting influence of a threadbare suit of clothes!

heart, for these were the first testy words that had yet fallen from her husband's lips.

Alas, for the poor and destitute! Unknown to them the halcyon frame of mind, the frank, cordial nature, the bounding fancy, the winged hope, the thoughts, tones, looks, and impulses— that keep the heart fresh and loving, and gladden daily life. Care and spleen are ever the poor man's portion; and rage and sullen gloom, and a breaking-up of the best affections, distrust of himself and others, and finally, despair, madness, and the suicide's crossway grave! Poverty, if not absolutely crime, is yet its fosterparent; for, by gradually blunting the feelings, and enfeebling the sense of shame, it paves the way for all malign influences; and small, indeed, is the number of those who can pass its tremendous ordeal unscathed.

Foiled, for the present, in his attempts to procure work from the booksellers, Raymond resolved on trying his fortune as a private tutor, and advertised in the daily papers for pupils, whom he would attend at their own houses; and also, by way of having two strings to his bow, for the situation of usher in a school, provided it were in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis. For several days he received no satisfactory answers to his applications; but at length, when he had repeated them five or six times, a reply was sent him from a schoolmas ter in Pentonville, to the effect that "J. Dobbs, of Paradise House, having seen O.P.Q.'s advertisement in the Times, and being in want of an assistant to teach the elementary branches of classics, would be glad of a visit from said O.P.Q., when, if terms, &c., suited, the parties might do business together."

The tradesmanlike wording of this letter, together with the stiff and formal character of the handwriting, enabled Henry to estimate pretty accurately the sort of person he would have to deal with; and, with anticipations the very reverse of sanguine, he took his way to the address given in the note, pleased to find that it was so near his own residence.

"Is Mr Dobbs at home?" he enquired of a stout country wench, who

was cleaning the door-steps of Paradise House when he came up, and who looked as if, like a hackney-coach horse, no possible amount of work could wear her out.

"Yes," replied the girl, "master is at home; but you can't see him just now, because"-she added, in a most unsophisticated, matter-of-fact-spirit,

"because he's flogging Sykes Junior in the school-room, for inking his sheets this morning."

"Oh, indeed!" said Raymond, smiling, "then I'll wait till the operation's over; I suppose it wont be long?"

"

"Oh dear, no!" replied the servant with amusing naïveté; "master gets through a deal of work when once his hand's in. Perhaps you'll just step in here till he's ready to see you; and she opened the parlour door, and, placing a chair, told Henry that she would go and inform Mr Dobbs of his arrival.

For full half an hour Raymond waited, expecting every moment that the pedagogue would make his appearance; but finding no symptoms of this he became impatient, and rang the bell for the servant, who assured him that she had told "master" that he was waiting for him in the parlour, but she supposed "master had forgotten it; and therefore, as "missus" could not see him, "'cause she was

out marketing," he had better go himself to "master;" with which words she showed him the way to the schoolroom, which was situated in the rear of the house, at the end of a small, gravelled playground, along which some shirts and other linen were hanging to dry.

As Henry entered this classic temple, he saw Mr Dobbs, a brisk, priggish little man, dressed in rusty black shorts, white cotton stockings and Hessian boots, seated, with spectacles on his cock-up nose, at a desk round which several boys were standing, one of whose innocent backs he had apparently just anointed with the cane, for the youngster was bellowing like a bull-calf, while the pedagogue kept giving vent to his anger in such terms as-" You stupid, lazy young dog, I'll teach you to remember the accusative case. Tom Holloway, what's the dative of musa?- Silence there, silence in the corner-what, you wont? very well; only wait 'till I come among you, that's all"-then, seeing Raymond, who was approaching his desk, he looked at him keenly through his spectacles, and said; "Hey, who have we here? Oh, I remember! you're the new usher, O. P. Q., that I wrote about t'other day; well, Mr O. P. Q., if you'll just step with me into the parlour for a few minutes, we can talk matters over at our leisure ;" and, dismissing his class, he led the way back to the room which my hero had just quitted.

Having taken his seat, and motioned Raymond to another, Mr Dobbs came at once to the point without the slightest ceremony. So you're a Cambridge man, as the advertisement says?" "Yes."

"Good; that's in your favourwhat references can you give ?"

In reply to this blunt question, Raymond observed, that he could refer him to the publisher of his translation of Eschylus.

"Eschylus, hey? What, you've translated Eschylus! Well, upon my life it's very creditable to you. However, to drop Eschylus, and come to business-for I've not a moment to spare just now-what wages do you expect?"

"Wages!" exclaimed Henry, with an involuntary expression of disgust; "I really have not considered the matter, so perhaps you'll say what you are prepared to give."

"Humph; these are hard times, and schools don't take as they used to do; but as you're a Cambridge man, I don't much mind stretching a point; so, suppose I say forty pound a-year, and find yourself. Hah, you may well stare; it's too much, upon my life it is."

"On the contrary, sir, I must say that the sum is"

"Too little?—can't help it; I never give more. Business is business. There's my maid-servant does twice as much work every day as you'll have to do for less than one-fourth the price."

"Your servant!" rejoined Raymond, with eyes flashing with indignation, "how dare you, sir, compare

me to'

"Hoity-toity," replied the schoolmaster, good-humouredly, "here's a to-do about a word! You don't think I really meant you to be my maidservant, do you? Never dreamed of such a thing."

"Well, sir," said Henry, who saw by this time that it was sheer ignorance and vulgarity, and not design, that had prompted the pedagogue's offensive allusion, "though your terms are not quite what I feel that I have a right to expect, still, for the present, I accede to them."

"I thought you would," replied Mr. Dobbs eagerly, for Raymond's appearance had prepossessed him in his fayour;" and, let me tell you, you're a lucky fellow, for situations like this of mine don't turn up every day. They're rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno,' as the Eton grammar observes. I suppose you can come to-morrow?"

"I know of nothing to prevent

me.

"Good. And suppose you step in, and take a dish of tea with us this evening, when I'll introduce you to Mrs D. I'm sure you'll like her, for she's a woman in ten thousand. Good morning, Mr Raymond; I believe your name's Raymond, ain't it?

"It is, sir."

"Well, bong swor, Mr Raymond, as the French grammar says. We shall see you at six-and, I say, don't go and run away with the notion that I wanted to make a maid-servant of you. A maid-servant, indeed! To empty the slop-pails, and scrub down the stairs, I suppose! Hah! hah! hah!

What could have put such a crotchet as that into your head?" and away bustled Mr Dobbs, laughing heartily at what he conceived to be his new usher's droll misapprehension.

"Forty pounds a-year!" repeated Raymond to himself, as he returned home to acquaint Julia with the result of his interview. "Gracious God, and are all my fine prospects come to this? Sunk to the condition of an usher at a small school kept by a vulgar ignoramus! How little did I foresee such an issue, when five short years since I figured among the gayest of the gay at Cambridge! Ah, could I but live those years over again, how different would be my conduct! Curses on that egregious self-conceit which has been my ruin! What right had I to look forward to literary renown-I, whose talents scarce suffice to earn me forty pounds a-year? But I will not complain; no, be my lot what it may, I will bear it patiently, for it is for my wife and child I labour; and what sacrifices would I not make for them! Poor, poor Julia, would to heaven we had never met! and, despite his assumed stoicism, the tears started to his eyes when he thought of the privations which his marriage had entailed on his wife.

Punctually as the church-clock in the Pentonville road struck six, Ray. mond returned to Paradise House, and was formally introduced to Mrs Dobbs, who was exactly what her husband had represented her to be, "a woman in ten thousand"-which being interpreted, means, that she was a desperate vixen, thin and strait as a skewer, with sharp ferret eyes, and a temper so thoroughly soured, that one might almost imagine that she had been dicted from her youth upwards on prussic-acid and crab-apples. The good lady was by no means slow or shy in developing this attractive feature in her character; for something having occurred to ruffle her temper a few minutes before Henry came in, she immediately began scolding the servant-girl, and then, by way of variety, fell foul of her husband. "Why didn't you set the tea-things, when you heard the bell ring?" she exclaimed in a shrill tone of voice; "Do you think your master and myself are to be kept waiting till it suits your pleasure to attend to us? And such handsome wages as you get, you lazy slut! Ring -ring-ring- there's nothing but

ringing in this house; if one hadn't the patience of a saint, one wouldn't put up with it a day. Mr Raymond, sir, if you knew what I have to go through, you wouldn't wonder at my-drat them boys, why don't you go out, Dobbs, and make them keep quiet, instead of sitting there grinning like a Cheshire cat?"

"Mr Raymond," said the schoolmaster, taking advantage of his wife's pausing to recover breath, "I've been to the bookseller you referred me to, and am happy to tell you that he spoke of you in the handsomest terms."

"Which sugar do you take with your tea, Mr Raymond?" enquired Mrs Dobbs; "we have both white and brown; our late usher used to take brown, however "—

"Do, pray, my dear Mrs D., allow the gentleman to take which he pleases. A few lumps of white sugar, once in a way, is neither here nor there."

"None of your nonsense, Dobbs. I know what's right as well as you can tell me. It isn't the sugar I look to, but the principle of the thing." "Oh, ay-the principle! That's another matter. I've nothing to say against that."

"I should think not, indeed;" and thus speaking, Mrs Dobbs desired her husband to hand Raymond his tea, moderately sweetened with white sugar, (in consideration of his being on this occasion a visiter,) together with a thick slice of bread and butter, as stale as O'Connell's joke about the Repeal of the Union.

"You'll have a comfortable place of it here, Mr Raymond," observed the schoolmaster, in an affable, patronizing manner; "Your hours will only be from eight o'clock to one, and from two to five, which is a mere nothing in the way of work, especially as the classics must be as easy to you as your A, B, C; and that reminds me of the grammar as we used in the school. Don't you think that the Eton Latin grammar might be greatly altered, in point of arrangement, for the better? I've a notion of my own on this point, which I intend to astonish the world with one of these days;" and as he said this, the pedagogue laid his forefinger beside his nose, and put on an air of uncommon astuteness and sagacity.

"Stuff and nonsense, Dobbs !" said his bland helpmate; "you're always talking about the alterations you're