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loosening the bonds of matrimony, the experiment, as tried in the Principalities, is not encouraging. It is needless to point out the unhappiness to which such a state of things may often give rise-where, for instance, the marriage has lasted for an unusually long period, and one of the parties is opposed to its dissolution, but is forced into consenting to it by the other-or where the children are separated from the parent most attached to them. It is true that, the society being small, they can nearly always meet; but that does not compensate for the rupture of the home ties. The fact is, that home ties, as we understand them, necessarily cannot exist, and that it would not do for a young person in these countries to be troubled with too much depth of feeling. There is a good deal of passion and of caprice; but where the men cannot claim the respect of the women, it is evident that the only kind of affection worth anything-that which is based upon esteem-is unknown. Both men and women, consequently, very easily get over their love-affairs, and domestic troubles do not exist, beeause there is nothing domestic in the country-not even annoyance. Everything is canvassed in the small society, and the chief topics of conversation are the changes and chances of that matrimonial life which is so singularly composed. The family is society at large. Everybody's private affairs are common property, and the most delicate questions of existence are referred by both parties to the world. There is a charming confidence existing between society and the individuals who compose it, and who confide in it, enlist its sympathies, and, in cases of differences, endeavour to gain its suffrages. Thus, before a divorce takes place, the pros and cons form the principal topic of conversation at every evening reunion. The husband has his friends, the wife hers; for although it is not necessary to quarrel before this description of separation, still the proposition has to come first from one;

and if there is an objection on the part of the other, society considers the question; nor are there any domestic details too minute for discussion en plein comité. Where art and literaturé are ignored, where newspapers are unread, and the only subject of discussion is local politics, which is soon exhausted, if it were not for the everrecurring incidents which society furnishes by the very nature of its composition, it would be indeed dull; but there is a freshness and a piquancy about these topics which never lose their flavour. The old ladies, running through the circumstances attendant upon all their own divorces, bring the benefit of the accumulated experiences of four marriages to bear for the benefit of the young friend who is making, under their advice and instruction, her second matrimonial venture. To a stranger it seemed odd to sit and discuss with the individual most interested, whether she ought to change her husband now or put off that function, and to hear advice given after dinner openly upon the subject; then, perhaps, to see the couple in the same room, though if things had come to this stage, they were each devoted in a different direction, generally with the view of preparing something beforehand; for it is considered the height of absurdity and imprudence to allow a divorce to come upon you suddenly, and to find yourself stranded without either a husband in esse or in posse.

In giving this description of society as it exists in these countries, I do not mean to pass any unkind criticism upon it. Unless one is prepared for it, there is something rather startling when one remembers that one is still in Europe; but every country has its peculiar conventional standard, and ours is not perhaps so perfect that we can afford to carp too much at our neighbour's. Their religion sanctions the principle, or, as we should call it, the want of principle, upon which society exists, and their consciences do not reproach them; but

it does seem that the more it is examined the less can be said in its favour. Whatever be the cause, there can be no doubt that, as a race, the Moldo-Wallachians do not occupy a high position in European estimation, and one cannot help thinking that their religious and social views have something to do with it. It has been so much the habit of travellers to accept their hospitality and then to abuse them, that it is with hesitation one ventures to give impressions more or less unfavourable to the general existing state of things; but their amiable qualities cannot blind one to what appears to us evils in their society; nor can their warm hospitality and lavish generosity prevent one from stating opinions elsewhere, which it was useless to attempt to dissemble even while in their society. It is the earnest desire to see a new era dawn upon the country that leads one to condemn the old; nor do the inhabitants express themselves satisfied with their political or social condition, nor with the position they occupy in the eyes of Europe. The peculiar relations in which the sexes stand towards each other render chivalry on the part of the men an impossibility. The sentiment is totally unknown among them, and there is, consequently, no basis for that sense of honour which should pervade every other relation in life. No man who does not know what is due to a woman can form the faintest conception of what is due to another man; for it is so much easier to fulfil the generous and noble instincts of one's nature in the former than in the latter case, that we may take it for granted that those who fail in the simplest will fail in the most difficult duties of life.

The most melancholy consideration growing out of this state of things is that connected with the rising generation. How is it possible for children troubled with doubt from infancy as to who are their nearest relations, trained in an atmosphere of deceit, and brought

up amid discussions derogatory to their parents in particular, and to the sexes in general, to acquire a sense of honour? If possible, the standard will get lower and lower with each new generation, and the only way to raise it would be by sending the children to be educated in countries where virtue, public and private, is considered essential to the respect of the community, and where vices are visited with its condemnation. Such a thing as being expelled from society is unknown in the Principalities, simply because it would be impossible for a man to commit any crime bad enough for such a fate. There is no reason why all this should not be changed. The moral capabilities of the race may be as high as those of any other, if they only had the chance of developing them; but they labour under the disadvantage of being, in this remote corner of Europe, the perpetual subject of intrigue to the great powers who protect them, and who have from the first set an example of political immorality in every transaction connected with the destiny of these provinces. Whether they have contaminated the Powers, or the Powers have contaminated them, is difficult to determine; but the atmosphere seems charged with intrigue-social, political, national, and diplomatic. Before these countries can be regenerated, they must get rid of a protectorate which demoralises them, of a Prince who plunders them, and of a religion which degrades them. Whether they would be in a better plight separated from each other, ruled over by princes of foreign extraction, and unprotected by any one, which is their ambition; or incorporated into the two neighbouring Powers, which is their dread, it is difficult to determine. So far as they are themselves concerned, no change could be for the worse; and so far as the peace and tranquillity of Europe are concerned, almost any change would be for the better.

TONY BUTLER.

PART X.

CHAPTER XXXIV.-TONY ASKS COUNSEL.

Ir was just as Bella said; Alice had sent off that poor boy "twice as much in love as ever." Poor fellow! what a strange conflict was that that raged within him!-all that can make life glorious, give ecstasy to the present and hope to the future, mingled with every thing that can throw a gloom over existence, and make it a burden and a task. Must it be ever thus ?must the most exquisite moments of our life, when we have youth and hope and health and energy, be dashed with fears that make us forget all the blessings of our lot and deem ourselves the most wretched of created beings?

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In this feverish alternation he travelled along homeward now thinking of the great things he could do and dare to win her love, now forth-shadowing the time when all hope should be extinguished, and he should walk the world alone and forsaken. He went over in memory-who has not done so at one time or other?-all she had said to him at their last meeting, asking what ground there might be for hope in this, what reason for belief in that. With what intense avidity do we seek for the sands of gold in this crushed and crumbled rock! how eagerly do we peer to catch one glittering grain that shall whisper to us of wealth hereafter!

Surely, thought he, Alice is too good and too true-hearted to give me even this much of hope if she meant me to despair. Why should she offer to write to me if she intended that I was to forget her? "I wonder," muttered he, in his dark spirit of doubt-"I wonder if this be simply the woman's way of treating a love she deems beneath her?" He had read in some book or other that it is no uncommon

thing for those women whose grace and beauty win homage and devotion thus to sport with the affections of their worshippers, and that in this exercise of a cruel power they find an exquisite delight. But Alice was too proud and too highhearted for such an ignoble pastime. But then he had read too that women sometimes fancy that, by encouraging a devotion they never mean to reward, they tend to elevate men's thoughts, ennobling their ambitions, and inspiring them with purer, holier hopes. What if she should mean this, and no more than this? Would not her very hatred be more bearable than such pity? For a while this cruel thought unmanned him, and he sat there like one stunned and powerless,

For some time the road had led between the low furze-clad hills of the country, but now they had gained the summit of a ridge, and there lay beneath them that wild coast-line, broken with crag and promontory towards the sea, and inland swelling and falling in every fanciful undulation, yellow with the furze and the wild broom, but grander for its wide expanse than many a scene of stronger features. How dear to his heart it was! How inexpressibly dear the spot that was interwoven with every incident of his life and every spring of his hope! There the green lanes he used to saunter with Alice-there the breezy downs over which they cantered-yonder the little creek where they had once sheltered from a storm; he could see the rock on which he Hit a fire in boyish imitation of a shipwrecked crew! was of Alice that every crag and cliff, every bay and inlet, spoke.

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"And is all that happiness gone

for ever?" cried he, as he stood gazing at the scene. "I wonder," thought he, "could Skeffy read her thoughts and tell me how she feels towards me? I wonder will he ever talk to her of me, and what will they say?" His cheek grew hot and red, and he muttered to himself, "Who knows but it may be in pity?" and with the bitterness of the thought the tears started to his eyes and coursed down his cheeks.

That same book-how it rankled, like a barbed arrow, in his side! that same book said that men are always wrong in their readings of woman-that they cannot understand the finer, nicer, more subtle springs of her action; and in their coarser appreciation they constantly destroy the interest they would give worlds to create. It was as this thought flashed across his memory the car-driver exclaimed aloud, Ah, Master Tony, did ever you see as good a pony as yon? he's carried the minister these eighteen years, and look at him, how he jogs along to-day!"

He pointed to a little path in the valley where old Doctor Stewart ambled along on his aged palfrey, the long mane and flowing tail of the beast marking him out though nigh half a mile away.

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Why didn't I think of that before?" thought Tony. "Dolly Stewart is the very one to help me. She has not been bred and brought up like Alice, but she has plenty of keen woman's wit, and she has all a sister's love for me besides. I'll just go and tell her how we parted, and I'll ask her frankly what she says to it."

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Cheered by this bright idea, he pursued his way in better spirits, and soon reached the little path which wound off from the highroad through the fields to the burnside. Not a spot there unassociated with memories, but they were the memories of early boyhood. The clump of white thorns they used to call the Forest, and where they went to hunt wild beasts; the little stream they fancied a great

and rapid river, swarming with alligators; the grassy slope, where they had their house, and the tiny garden, whose flowers, stuck down at daybreak, were withered before noon!-too faithful emblems of the joys they illustrated!

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Surely," thought he, "no boy had ever such a rare playfellow as Dolly; so ready to take her share in all the rough vicissitudes of a boy's pleasures, and yet to bring to them a sort of storied interest and captivation which no mere boy could ever have contributed. What a little romance the whole wasjust because she knew how to impart the charm of a story to all they did and all they planned!"

It was thus thinking that he entered the cottage. So still was everything that he could hear the scratching noise of a pen as a rapid writer's hand moved over the paper. He peeped cautiously in and saw Dolly seated, writing busily at a table all strewn over with manuscript: an open book, supported by other books, lay before her, at which from time to time she glanced.

Before Tony had advanced a step she turned round and saw him. "Was it not strange, Tony ?" said she, and she flushed as she spoke. "I felt that you were there before I saw you; just like long ago, when I always knew where you were hid."

"I was just thinking of that same long ago, Dolly," said he, taking a chair beside her, " as I came up through the fields. There everything is the same as it used to be when we went to seek our fortune across the sandy desert, near the Black Lake."

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There was a tone of sadness in her voice, very slight, very faint indeed, but still enough to tinge these few words with melancholy. "And what is all this writing about?" said he, moving his hands through the papers. "Are you composing a book, Dolly?"

"No," said she, timidly; "I am only translating a little German story. When I was up in London, I was lucky enough to obtain the insertion of a little fairy tale in a small periodical meant for children, and the editor encouraged me to try and render one of Andersen's stories; but I am a very sorry German, and, I fear me, a still sorrier prose writer; and so, Tony, the work goes on as slowly as that bridge of ours used long ago. Do you remember when it was made, we never had the courage to pass over it! Mayhap it will be the same with my poor story, and, when finished, remain unread."

"But why do you encounter such a piece of labour?" said he. "This must have taken a week or more!"

"A month yesterday, my good Tony and very proud I am, too, that I did it in a month."

"And for what, in heaven's name?"

"For three bright sovereigns, Master Tony!" said she, blushing.

"Oh, I didn't mean that," said be, in deep shame and confusion. "I meant only, why did you engage on such a hard task."

"I know you didn't mean it, Tony; but I was so proud of my success as an author, it would out. Yes," said she, with a feigned air of importance, "I have just disposed of my copyright; and you know, Tony, Milton did not get a great deal more for Paradise Lost.' You see," added she seriously, "what with poor papa's age and his loneliness, and my own not over-great strength, I don't think I shall try (at least not soon) to be a governess again; and it behoves me to be as little as I can of a burden to him; and after thinking of various things, I have settled upon this as the best."

"What a good girl you are!" said he, and he fixed his eyes full upon her; nor did he know how admiringly till he saw that her face, her forehead, and even her neck, were crimson with shame and confusion.

"There is no such great goodness in doing what is simply one's duty," said she, gravely.

"I don't know that, Dolly."

"Come, come, Tony, you never fancied yourself a hero, just because you are willing to earn your bread, and ready to do so by some sacrifice of your tastes and habits."

The allusion recalled Tony to himself and his own cares, and after a few seconds of deep thought he said, "I am going to make the venture now, Dolly. I am called away to London by telegraph, and am to leave to-morrow morning." "And are you fully prepared, Tony, for the examination ?"

"Luckily for me, they do not require it. Some accidental want of people has made them call in all the available fellows at a moment's warning, and in this way I may chance to slip into the service unchallenged."

"Nay, but Tony," said she, reproachfully, "you surely could face the examination ?"

"I could face it just as I could face being shot at, of course, but with the same certainty of being bowled over. Don't you know, Dolly, that I never knew my grammar long ago till you had dinned it into my head; and as you never come to my assistance now, I know well what my fate would be."

"My dear Tony," said she, "do get rid once for all of the habit of underrating your own abilities: as my dear father says, people very easily make self-depreciation a plea of indolence. There, don't look SO dreary; I'm not going to moralise in the few last minutes we are to have together. Talk to me about yourself."

"It was for that I came, Dolly," said he, rising and taking a turn or two up and down the room; for in

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