"And who may be your mistress, Mees}"

"Madame Carron."

"Diable! Madame Carron downstairs! Does she wish to see me?" "No; she only begs you to read this letter. She is giving Timoléon a message for you.'

"Very well. Then will you have the goodness to stand near the hinges of the door, and to extend your hand while I make a little opening. You should not see me. I am not in a state for to be seen."

He opened a few inches of the door, and a small note was handed in. Tearing it open, he quietly read it. It was in French :

"Come and dine with me to-day. I have something to communicate of importance, and that will assist your prospects. Yes or no will do. Can you lend me your servant to wait this evening?- Ever yours, ADELGONDE CARRON."

"Will you say to your mistress "Yes," responded the Count; "and as you descend, desire that pig, Timoléon, to come up quickly."

And advancing again to the look ing-glass with the same alacrity, the Count trod a light measure towards his razors. Scarcely had he begun to shave, however, when a thought flashed across his mind. He was engaged to dine with Lady Coxe.

"Diable!" he exclaimed; "here is a pretty mistake. Timoléon Timoléon! Where is that bad citizen?"

But no answer was returned to his cries. He must still be talking to the bonne Carron.

"I must go and catch them before they have settled the dinner."

So, hastily clothing himself in a light jacket of embroidered silk, with trousers to match, a pair of slippers covered with gold, and a Turkish cap, he straightway coursed down the corridor towards the door.

As he reached the door of the hotel, who should he behold seated in a barouche with her daughter, but Lady Coxe.

VOL. XCIII.-NO. DLXVII.

"Ow de do, Congte?" cried the lady, vehemently.

The Count did not hesitate to walk into the street, notwithstanding his costume.

"I hope you are well, Miladi, after the exertions of last night; and Mademoiselle Florence I see laughing at my toilette-espiègle comme toujours - and Mademoiselle Constance more beautiful than never."

"We are in very good 'ealth, thank you, Congte. We came to remind you of your promise to dine with us to-day."

"I should not be a good Frenchman to forget the commands of the charming Lady Cogues."

"Oh, Congte, you are so complimentary."

"The subject is one to inspire the least poetical of mortals, Miladi."

"Well, I will not detain you, Congte. I see some one else is waiting for you. Gay man! A lady, I see."

"A compatriote, Miladi-most distinguished person, Madame Car

ster carpet. A neat looking-glass in a carved oak frame was fixed against the wall. A fleecy sheepskin opposed the progress of a draught, that, under normal circumstances, found a passage beneath the doorway. An alabaster lamp, swinging from the ceiling, cast a light sufficient to show the beauties and to conceal the deficiencies.

It was in this little corner that Count Rabelais stood for a moment. With all his frivolity and apparent carelessness of manner, he evidently felt some tremor at his approaching interview with the actress. Pausing, therefore, for a moment, he listened to discover the sound of any voice that might betray the presence of the actress's companion; while, to conceal his purpose from any possible spectator, he arranged his hair, his whiskers, and cravat.

She

At length he opened the door and found Madame Carron alone. was seated near the fireplace reading a volume of Molière. And in the arrangement of the apartment was visible the same woman's hand that had cast a refining influence over the ante-chamber. White muslin curtains, evidently not the choice of a professional lodginghouse keeper, added to the cleanliness, while not destroying the harmony of the furniture,-a few tiger skins and Cashmere shawls, thrown here and there, as though accidentally, over the chairs and sofas, concealed the original dinginess of the chintz coverings. A cloth of rich velvet was spread over the table, and covered with small objects collected from many countries. Rare flowers were placed in a stand near the window, while two alabaster lamps, matching with that we have already seen, cast the same furtive light. A small shaded lamp, placed near the actress on a small stand of Italian mosaic, illuminated the volume before her.

"Am I late, Leontine?" asked the actor, in a tone of voice very different from that in which he had beguiled the fancy of Lady Coxe.

"Too late and too early," re

"You seem to have chosen a nice society for me, Adelgonde. A couturière, I suppose."

"A respectable person, Achillemore respectable, perhaps, even than yourself. She is opulent,

Achille; you are not."

"I did not know you were worldly enough and English enough to measure respectability by wealth, Madame."

Her livelihood is gained by her own exertions-yours is not." The actress spoke in a tone of some bitterness.

"And do you reproach me, Adelgonde?"

"No, Achille. I only remind you of what you are too apt to forget."

"Well, do not let us quarrel about terms," rejoined Rabelais, querulously. "Who is it that graces your salon this evening?"

"Madame Mélanie."

"And who is Madame Mélanie?" "The first dressmaker in Europe."

"Belle position!"

"It is a position, Achille, to be the first in any line of life."

"And you have forced me away from a pleasant party to spend an evening with a dressmaker. Thank you, Adelgonde, you want me to marry la petite Coxe. I am making great game with Miladi, her mother, getting on famously. I rush away to keep an engagement to meet a person likely to assist my aim, and to fulfil your wishes; and I find that you bring me to exchange confidences with a lingère. Really, Adelgonde, you might have chosen some other occasion."

"Believe me, if you play your cards properly you will not repent it."

(To be continued.)

In the existing dearth of interest in our domestic politics, some attention has been drawn to the agitation Mr Cobden proposes to undertake. Its object is to alter the Law of Nations so as to prohibit the capture of the enemy's merchant ships or the blockade of his commercial ports. Philanthropic men, moved by the hardships and loss which war inflicts on peaceful industry, are apt to forget that our political arrangements are generally based upon a choice of evils, and that in seeking to escape from those of one class we may create others still more grievous. They become so possessed with their view of one side of a subject as to lose the power of seeing its other side. Nor will a prophet ever be long in this country without some believers. In this instance a few respectable shipowners, without giving themselves to much study of International Law, accept at once the assertion that the Declaration of Paris will be prejudicial, if not ruinous, to our commerce in time of war, and straightway implore a remedy for a disorder which we hope to prove has no existence except in their own imaginations.

To the treaty made in Paris at the close of the Crimean war certain declarations were appended. They were brought forward unexpectedly, and decided with a haste that precluded any such deliberation as the subjects required. One of them, which practically denounced freedom of the press in Belgium, an independent State, was speedily rejected by public opinion, and fell stillborn to the ground. The clauses upon maritime rights, on which the present movement is founded, run thus :—

1. Privateering is and remains abolished.

2. The neutral flag covers enemy's goods, except contraband of war.

3. Neutral goods, except contra

band of war, are not liable to capture under the enemy's flag.

4. Blockades in order to be binding must be effective - that is, maintained by a force sufficient really to prevent access to the coast of the enemy.

These clauses embody the doctrines usually professed by each of the neutral Powers, except when it chanced to become a belligerent. It has been our own practice hitherto stoutly to maintain the principle of taking the enemy's property wherever found at sea. We adhered consistently to a national policy practised by other Powers, or disputed by them according to their position at the moment. Owing, however, to the considerable number of the neutral States and the great power of disputation to be found among them, the exercise of these ancient rights of war was maintained at the cost of much illwill and inconvenience, and in view of this it was deemed expedient to abandon them. It has been asserted that we made the concession in apprehension of the increased power and authority of the neutral States. No assertion could be more groundless. We insisted on these rights, and made them good throughout a period of modern history, when the maritime power of the neutrals was greatly beyond any they now possess. Spain had once great fleets; those of Holland have held even battle with our own; the Danes were formidable at sea; Sweden, Turkey, Venice, have all been naval powers of some consideration. These fleets have either passed away or are now but shadows of their former strength. It is easily to be proved that the naval power of this country was never so pre-eminent when compared with that of all the other States of Europe as at the present day. Hence the policy that dictated this concession was open to

no imputation of fear. But whilst the material strength of the neutrals had declined during the present century, the influence of moral force has extended-nations are drawn into much closer fellowshipa spirit more genial and considerate than that of old pervades the world; isolation and defiance, if not more difficult, have become more painful. These are the considerations that influenced our action. We made a concession to the spirit of the age.

As it is now proposed to inaugurate a new and untried system of warfare on the basis of this Declaration of Paris, we are led at once to ask if it be an agreement so certain to be respected by others that we can regard it as a safe foundation to rely upon. Its validity is exceedingly doubtful. It is doubtful whether the prerogative of the Crown, acting alone, can extend so far as to alter the law established and administered in this country by its courts. Phillimore speaks of it as "this anomalous Declaration, whatever may be its binding effect." It does not appear to have ever been ratified by the Crown. In the debates in Parliament Lord Derby expressed grave Doubts of its validity, and Mr Gladstone professed himself unable to determine whether it constituted a treaty, and if not, what it did constitute. As it only pretends to bind the States that were parties to it, it cannot be regarded as a law of nations, but only as a law of some nations, a thing of very different value. Though commonly called a Declaration, it does not really declare the existing law, but enacts a new one. This being done by a compact of several Powers, its nature is really that of a treaty, and nothing is more certain than that treaties are shattered by the first breath of war. None will dispute Lord Stowell's dictum, war extinguishes treaties;" or that of Vattel, "The conventions made with a nation are broken or annulled by a war arising between the two contracting parties." It has been

argued, that though this be true with treaties in general, it cannot hold good in regard to those which are to regulate the conduct of war itself. Can any one point out such a treaty that did hold good when war tested it? There are certain rules which regulate the treatment of prisoners, flags of truce, and other details of warfare; these it is to the convenience of all belligerents to adhere to. But these changes are not in details of procedure, but in large questions of policy. A treaty has force, because you can punish a breach of it by going to war; but once you are actually at war, a treaty is as vain as a penal law, for which there is no penalty.

We shall find, as we proceed, that our shipping may derive great advantage from the abolition of privateering. When this is set off against any injury under the other clauses, the advocates of this movement reply thus,-" Do not deceive yourselves. France has indeed agreed not to employ privateers; but her merchants, instead of appearing in that form, will obtain commissions, and come against you as cruisers of the navy-a mere difference of name." Now, taking the assertion as it is made, does it not prove the facility with which compacts of this nature can be evaded? Evaded by one belligerent, the other would instantly declare the compact at an end. Who can place reliance in an agreement when those who defend it point out to us how readily and surely it will be broken? International law is a record of the usage of the civilised Powers. Now, this Declaration is an agreement to depart from previous usage, one Power in the matter of privateering, another. in its claims on neutrals. It has, therefore, no basis in that which is the essence of the Law of Nations, and is void of the power which gives efficiency to those laws-the power of established public opinion. This difference is very material, for there is no machinery to enforce the laws of nations, and the motive that