fault," he replied. "If Molesworth wishes for a companion, why cannot he marry again?" "Because," I replied, "he is prevented from marrying the woman most congenial to him, and the one who would be most approved of by his late dear Marguerite, if her spirit be permitted to know what passes on earth."

"And how can you so exactly tell," asked Glassford, "the precise sort of wife that his late dear Marguerite would consider most desirable for him?"

"Because," I replied, "she would of course wish her children to be educated in every point as she would herself have educated them; and no one can have ideas so congenial to her own as the sister who has from infancy shared all her joys and sorrows."

"I cannot at all judge," said Glassford, giving his snuff-box the detestable tap which I so pa ticularly disliked," of what may be the opinion of a spirit respecting mundane matrimonial affairs; neither, I believe, have our legislators yet taken that branch of the subject into considera

tion."

“But,” I rejoined, "to drop all allusions to the dead, and return to the living: who is likely to be so fitting a stepmother as the aunt already bound by ties of affection to the children?"

"You seem to have a great prejudice against stepmothers," said Glassford: "I suppose it is because you have lived too long abroad to understand the character of the women of England. If you did them justice, you would think them fully capable of performing their duty to motherless children, even although not connected with them by relationship."

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"I assure you," said I, "that I have no prejudice against stepmothers: on the contrary, I consider them to be a race more sinned against than sinning. Every eye is fixed on a stepmother with a view to detect something sinister and objectionable in her conduct. Geraldine Jewsbury has an excellent remark, that nothing has such a debasing influence on the mind as living in an atmosphere of vague censure.' This observation is generally applicable, but peculiarly so, it appears to me, in regard to stepmothers. They usually begin their new duties with every disposition to be kind and considerate; but when they find that their best efforts are regarded with coldness and suspicion, they are apt to relax in their endeavours to please persons who are so resolutely determined not to be pleased. Among these censors of the stepmother, the family of the first wife are generally predominant. The second wife may have quite as good ways as the first; but they are not the same ways. Her ideas of managing a nursery and household may be very different from those of her predecessor. Alterations are made in the establishment, children are unhappy, servants take their departure, and every one exclaims against the arbitrary rule of the second wife. Now the sister-in-law has no such disadvantages to contend with: the family stand in just the same relationship to her as to her predecessor; and she is equally dear to them; the children are

accustomed to love, and the servants to respect her besides, she knows the manner in which they have been ruled, and brings with her dispositions, tastes, and habits assimilating with those of her deceased sister. I once heard a celebrated musical professor say, that he listened with more pleasure to duets sung by sisters than to any others; because, not only did the sisters enjoy the advantage of continually practising together, but that Nature had given to members of the same family a congenial and accordant quality of voice which did not exist in others. Just so there are a hundred little matters (trifles in themselves, but trifles make up the sum of human happiness) in which sisters are perfectly united, and in which another voice would be sure to introduce discord."

"But all sisters are not alike in disposition," said Glassford; "neither do all aunts approve of the manner in which their little nephews and nieces have been brought up."

"Very true," I replied; "and in that case I consider it probable that neither the widower nor his sister-in-law would desire to form a closer alliance with each other. However, supposing that such an alliance should take place, I am still of opinion that the late wife's sister would have great advantages over the stranger bride; because she would be fully aware of all the drawbacks and disadvantages that she must expect to encounter; she would not be taken by surprise: she might sail on a rough sea, but she would have nothing to apprehend from rocks and quicksands. In ordinary life, the stepmotherelect is introduced to a bevy of little sylphs, in braided tunics and white muslin frocks, who delight her by the grateful smiles and blushes with which they receive her notice: and they, in their turn, are delighted with the kind lady who showers caresses and presents upon them with all the prodigality of a fairy godmother. The next act of the domestic drama exhibits the stepmother horrified at finding herself in a region of torn pinafores, blotted copy-books, dogs-eared spelling-books, red eyes, and peevish answers. She pronounces her little family the most impracticable and perverse of children; and they, remembering the gentle patience and kind encouragement which they experienced from their fond mother, are apt to consider themselves, and to be considered by others, as the victims of harsh and unjust oppression. Now, the sister of the mother, even if she considered it necessary to employ greater strictness in the education of the children, would, both from principle and policy, content herself with working a gradual change. The faults of those whom we have caressed, nursed, and loved in infancy, must necessarily be regarded by us with a portion of lenity and toleration, if only from the fact that we are so thoroughly used to them; and should she sometimes feel inclined to make a severe use of her newly-acquired power, she will think on the dying words and parting blessing of her sister, and refrain."

"You seem," said Glassford, sneeringly, "to

"But what evil could there be," I asked, "in rendering legal the marriages which are clearly so desirable?"

"Were they to be rendered legal," said Glassford, "domestic peace would be sacrificed: no married woman would feel easy or happy in having her sister on a visit at her house. She would fear that she would be laying snares to win the affections of a man whom she might hereafter secure as a husband."

"And is this," I indignantly exclaimed, "your appreciation of the virtues of the women of England? Well might they apply to you the saying, Deliver us from our friends! What would the continental women, of whom you speak with such severity, say to the sketch you have just given of the probable proceedings of our young countrywomen, if the law did not lay its iron grasp upon them to shame them into decency?"

"Such things have happened, however," said Glassford, doggedly.

"I know they have," I replied: "so has every description of crime. But we legislate for the many not for the few; and few, very few indeed, I trust, are the monsters in human shape who could be capable of playing the part you so unhesitatingly assign to them. How bitterly have I heard you reprobate the levity of manner displayed by the women of France! this, generally speaking, is, I am persuaded, mere manner: but, even were it otherwise, how preferable would be open coquetry to the subtlety of the domestic invader, who could be guilty, not only of abusing household confidence, and violating the sanctity of holy ties, but would choose a kind and trusting sister as the victim of her deadly sting! Oh, Glassford, if such, indeed, are the characteristics of our pure young English maidens, as pronounced by their own countrymen, let us cease to make them a subject of boasting to other nations; but let us mourn in sackcloth and ashes for their moral degradation !"

Glassford was not prepared with any answer to my indignant appeal: he did not even seem to have energy enough to tap his snuff-box, but quickly shifted his ground to another of the sophistries of his party. "You have," said he, "remarked that none can care for children like the sister of their mother; now, should the marriages in question be permitted, you would in the generality of cases take away from these children the care which you deem so desirable for them. A sister-in-law may now reside under the roof of a widower, govern his family, and educate his children; but, were it in his power to marry her, she could not, according to the customs of society, live with him except as his wife."

"I conclude," I said, "this is one of the cutand-dried dogmas that you utter mechanically;

certainly, if you had considered the case for a little while, you would not have employed such an illustration: it comes with an exceedingly bad grace from you, who have taken such an active part in separating poor Julia from her brother-in-law and his children. I know you will retaliate that Julia and Molesworth felt more than a brotherly and sisterly affection for each other: but may not the same observations be made about many another unfortunate pair who feel and evince mutual regard and esteem ? If the spies and backbiters of society are all to be on the watch to misconstrue every kind look, and exaggerate every kind word, there is little hope that there can be any of those happy households presided over by a sister-in-law, to which you allude as the general result of the present marriage-laws."

"If remarks are made," said Glassford, "about the too great attachment of such parties to each other, it is inost likely that they have deserved them."

"Not so," I replied. "It is inconceivable with what rapidity an injurious report will increase in magnitude. I was much pleased with the following remark in a clever little work by Mrs. Newton Crosland :-'As well pass a kaleidoscope from hand to hand, and expect no trembling touch will alter its aspect, as think to hear a story from mouth to mouth literally and accurately repeated.' Perhaps one person may remark in perfect simplicity and good will on the happy unity of spirit existing between a couple who live together under the circumstances to which we have alluded; another person, by adding a few words to this remark, and repeating it with a meaning inflection of tone, will convert it into a sharp epigram: it will become a bitter lampoon in the mouth of a third person, and a cruel slander in that of a fourth. I have lived much away from my own country-as you take care frequently to remind me--but I cannot help thinking that, if I knew more of it, I should be able to adduce many, very many instances of pure, exemplary young girls like Julia, who have been separated from all who are dear to them, and sentenced to pass through the world with an undeserved stain on their character, merely because the marriage is prohibited which would give perfect happiness to themselves and to others."

A visitor was announced to Glassford at this point of the conversation, therefore I cannot say how he would have replied to me; but I do not think that my readers need regret this omission; for I believe that he had come to the end of the tunes on his barrel-organ, and would only have favoured me with variations on the old ones.

It was autumn in London, a dull, dim, heavy autumn. I felt its influence sensibly, accustomed as I was to the pure air and cheerful scenes of the continent. I had promised Julia that I would not quit England till the arrival of her father (an arrival which we had reason to expect would take place very soon); but I had received an invitation from a friend to pass a few weeks at the sea-side, and she urged me to ac

cept it. I did so with the greater readiness, because I really felt myself incapable of being of any use either to her or to Molesworth; each of them seemed to have sunk into a dreamy, dispirited sort of life, blind to all around them, indifferent to all before them. I could anticipate no comfort for them, save in a world where there is "neither marrying nor giving in marriage." I had been absent from London about a month, when I received a few welcome lines from Julia they were dated from her own house; her father had arrived; she was no longer subjected to the iron rule of Mrs. Rebecca Gilmour. I felt truly grateful at this gleam of sunshine in the lot of my poor young friend; but I was not very impatient to return to London. I could not doubt that Gilmour, although he might have recovered the shock of Marguerite's death, would feel truly unhappy at beholding his surviving daughter a wreck, his son-in-law a hermit, and his grand-children victims to the tender mercies of a tyrannical governess. At the end of a week, however, my movements were quickened by a short note from Gilmour, warmly thanking me for my kindness towards Julia, and earnestly requesting a speedy visit from me, and I lost no time in complying with his request. When I called on my old friend, I composed my countenance into an appropriate expression of sympathy; but I was absolutely panic-stricken at his radiant look of satisfaction, the beaming benevolence of his smile, the cordiality of his long-sustained grasp of my hand. "A thousand thanks," he exclaimed, "for all your attentions to dear Julia : she has been severely tried. I thought her looking quite the ghost of her former self; however, 'all's well that ends well.'”

"I am glad to hear that all has ended well," said I, feeling at the same time much puzzled to conceive how poor Julia's affairs could by any possibility have ended well.

"What delightful little creatures Moleworth's children are!" continued the hilarious grandfather. "I should scarcely have known them again. Charles is full of spirit and vivacity, and Marguerite quite a study for an artist. I must certainly have their portraits taken.”

"Do you not think," I asked, hesitatingly, "that Miss Kirby is somewhat too severe in the government of the children ?"

"Miss Kirby was dethroned the day after my arrival," said Gilmour, or, more properly speaking, she abdicated. It was signified to her that her resignation would be accepted, and she took the hint: she received a handsome present, and a character for strict discipline, fit for framing and glazing, and she went off quite contentedly."

"And who is now taking care of the children?" I asked, wondering more and more at all I heard.

"They are in this house," replied Gilmour. "Now that they have lost their dear mother, no one can take of them but Julia."

"And how is Julia?" I inquired. "I thought her looking ill when I left London."

"Yes, she might well do so," replied her father, when her society was confined to half-adozen spinsters, and her walks to the Highgate Cemetery. She is at present taking a long ramble with Molesworth."

I could not restrain an exclamation of surprise. Much as I blamed the conduct of Glassford, it appeared to me that Gilmour was running too much into the contrary extreme, and that it was wrong to set the opinion of the world at such open defiance, even although its strictures might be unfounded and uncharitable. "But," I stammered out, "would not Glassford make some unpleasant remark if he met Molesworth and Julia walking together?"

"Where is the subject on which Glassford would not make an unpleasant remark?" replied my friend. "However, you, who are rather more liberal than Glassford in your opinions, will, I flatter myself, see no great impropriety in an engaged couple taking a walk together."

"I see how it is," I exclaimed, clasping my hands; "this cruel marriage-law has been repealed, or is about to be so !"

"I trust," said Gilmour, gravely, "that it will be repealed one day; but I am sorry to say that I see no immediate prospect of it."

"Then," I said, "you sanction the engagement of Molesworth and Julia, which, I conclude, is to be ratified when the law is repealed?"

"Believe me," said Gilmour, "I am not going to impose upon them so heavy a trial of patience: I hope they will be married in the course of a month."

are.

"In Germany, I suppose?" said I.

"No, no," replied Gilmour, "I am not so fond of foreign countries as some of my friends Julia shall be married, like Marguerite, from the home of her childhood, and her marriage shall be solemnised in the church where she has been accustomed to worship."

will never dare to perform such a marriage." "Impossible !" I exclaimed, "the Rector

"Believe me, he will," said Gilmour," and I trust will also favour me with his company at the wedding breakfast, where I assure you we shall also expect to see you-a welcome and honoured guest.'

دو

A terrible idea now struck me. I feared that the disastrous state in which my poor friend had found the affairs of his family had shaken his reason, and that he was dispensing presents to governesses, portraits to grandchildren, orange-flowers to his daughter, and a wedding breakfast to his friends, under the pleasing delusion of insanity. I had heard that we should always agree with the insane, whatever they may think proper to assert; and therefore, forcing a satisfied smile on my countenance, I stammered forth that it would give me the greatest pleasure to accept his obliging invitation. Gilmour burst into a fit of laughter.

"I have perplexed you long enough," he said. "I perceive you think that I have gone out of my senses, and now I must endeavour to prove to you that there is method in my mad

diately after their departure, related several stories of terrible accidents which had recently happened on the same railway by which they were to reach their destination! A few friends remained to dine with Gilmour after the wedding party had dispersed.

Well," " said Glassford, who had grown quite tired of being amiable, "I must say, Gilmour, that I think, considering your long absence at Barbadoes, you have been in a wonderful hurry to get rid of Julia. Why you have only returned home a month!"

"I thought it was quite necessary to make the young people happy as soon as possible," said Gilmour. How could I tell that our legislators would not bring in a prohibition of the marriage of a man with his late wife's first cousin ?"

"That is absurd," said Glassford.

"Not at all," replied Gilmour; "it is a favourite remark of yours, that what has been may be;' and there was a time when in this very land of freedom, according to Lord Coke, a divorce might be had because a husband had

stood godfather to his wife's cousin! However Molesworth and Julia are firmly united; I feel every trust in their happiness, and only wish that it could be partaken by many who are equally deserving of it, but who, unfortunately, cannot, like my daughter and her husband, qualify themselves for matrimonial felicity by proving themselves guiltless of the prohibited relationship. Not long, however, I hope, may this cruel law be suffered to exist; we live in days when even the highest and wisest are willing to be taught, and to allow that there is much in our laws, as well as in ourselves, which may admit of improvement. There's a good time coming;' and earnestly do I hope that it may soon come in this particular quarter, that the law may be repealed which forbids a marriage of all others the most eligible and desirable; and that many a home may be gladdened by its owner bringing to it, as a dear and valued wife, one whom he has known and esteemed for years as a dear and valued Sisterin-law !"

Looking over a volume of Scotch Heraldry, we were struck by the variety, significance, and epigrammatic character of the mottos, which gave life and meaning to the otherwise unintelligible hieroglyphics in which the Heralds' Court keeps its records. We confess to a love of mottos we have faith in them as family periapts, and regard them as sacredly as the Jews of old did their phylacteries, or the Turks do a text from the Koran. Who shall doubt that "Nil desperandum" has been the saving of many a one, and "Persevere" a carman of success? Surely the constant recurrence of a noble sentiment, or moral axiom, falling from seal or signet every time one uses them, must impress the mind with the spirit of their meaning, and thus render them syllabic amulets, words of power, not only to strengthen us in our mental and moral struggles, but to aid us in acquitting properly the services and duties which we owe to others. Some, it is true, like the reckless, haughty "Spare nought" of the Lord Hay, literally crying, "havoc to the dogs of war,' and if his followers acted on it, tracking their path with blood and devastation, regardless of all human rights, and sanguinary in its selfish ness, are no way german to this matter; but the majority read more like aphorisms from Holy Writ, than precepts of the blood-stained age of

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chivalry. How beautifully, for instance, does the tender " Be mindful" of the Campbells of Calder contrast with the fierce spirit of this mot. Mercy herself need wear no fairer cognizance; and, like her, we could fancy it intervening between the hates, the prejudices, and jealousies of daily life, and whispering its sweet counsel evermore, till the principle became the practice of those who bore it. The bold "Go through" of the Brentons might be a countersign for good or evil-a rallying word for resolution in a right cause, as well as for contempt of danger in an indifferent one. "Go through ?" in other words, let no impediment stop youconquer difficulties, tread down opposition. There is, in its sententious ardour, force, and energy-the sentiments which have proved the secret of victory in many a cause more glorious than those won on the red field of battle. What inscriptio can be more to the purpose, more inspiring to action, more full of promise as to the result, than the cheerful "Row and retake" of the Riddells? When the mind, overcome by disappointment or misfortune, droops listlessly beside the waters of despair (those dark and sluggish waves that rob the spirit of buoyancy, and the frame of action, and in which too many sink without an effort), the spirit of this motto might awaken a sense of power in its