Yet these are few to speak of, in the hosts The Thames is festering, rank, with German mud ; Hither from Hambro, Frankfort, Riga, Kiehl, From Smyrna, Scio, Athens, thousands steal; From Cork, from Galway, Dublin, or Belfast, Eastward or westward, here they stop at last; Half London is a foreign colony, Half Liverpool is now, or soon will be; Each country under heaven transports its hordes, Each with his native brass wins British gold. More dark than Hegel, more than Breitmann wise. Who are these strangers, what do they profess? No bushel hides the light which they possess. What do they bring to this benighted land? What do they not, say rather, understand? Whatever art and science may be known, They vow they know it, and they know alone. Give them a chance, and trust them for the rest, They'll hold their own, and hold it with the best. If heaven were worth their pains, or did it pay, Through heaven itself these men would force their way. But what's more germane to their highest aims, Some back-stairs influence puffs and puffs their claims. This is the crew I fly from. Shall I see We quit our country, yielding to their claims, Think you that such as these would sacrifice Would, if the land which makes them rich and great, Would, if it staked upon some desperate strife Patriots, I know, are very dubious men, With any higher end than sordid gain— To illustrate the mongrel and his vice." The Widow has it. BY "OLD CALABAR." "They wos all widders, Sammy, all on 'em, 'cept the camomile tea vun, as wos a single young lady o' fifty-three." "MONEY, sir!" exclaimed old Colonel Martinette, who was flattening his "jolly red nose" against the window of the Senior United. "He won't know what to do with it. I give you my honour, sir, as an officer and a gentleman, I don't believe he can ever spend it all. It's an emense sum-an e- -mense sum." He quite forgot that as a young man it had not taken him long to run through sixty thousand pounds. "Ah!" said his friend, who was assiduously using a gold toothpick to his false teeth, "you don't know what he can do till he tries.' "I know one thing," answered the Colonel; "that he won't part easily with any. I tried him on, sir, for a couple of thou.; but not a farthing, sir-by the living Harry! not a farthing-could I get out of him. I, his uncle, went away from his house with pockets to let." "Well, that was hard lines, Colonel !" "Lines, sir! damn him! I wish I had him in the lines. I'd break the infernal fellow's back. I'd have a roll-call every two hours; and the rest of the time he should be at rope-drill, or in heavy marching order. I'd-I'd "But what excuse did he give you?" asked the other. Excuse! Why, he said that the purchasing and furnishing of his town house-the painting and redecorating of his country onehis yacht at Cowes-his new horses and carriages-with various other items, would take all his spare money; that he was now expected to keep up an appearance and position in society; that servants and large establishments were expensive, and all that sort of rot; that he had an idea of marrying and settling down; and the necessity of saving something for a rainy day. Why, hang him! his box at the opera costs more than I have for a year's income. By gad, I But did he actually refuse you?" persisted the other. "Well, no, not exactly," replied the Colonel, turning as red as he well could. "He said he would let me have five hundred if I'd put down a certain little establishment at Brompton. Damme, sir, I'm a bachelor, and can do as I choose. Fancy, sir, a young man of sixand-twenty, with thirty thousand a year, dictating to his uncle, and offering him five hundred pounds on certain conditions. By gad, it's monstrous." Young Arthur Martinette, the inheritor of the fortune alluded to, was the only son of a drysalter, who had taken his leave of the world some months previous to the time we are speaking of. He had died unknown and unheard of, except by his city friends and acquaintances. Arthur, who had been left everything, burst like a meteor on the town. All were eager to know him and make his acquaintance; poor relations turned up in scores, and rich ones he had hardly ever heard of now condescended to know him-his uncle amongst the number. Arthur Martinette had not been educated at a public school, where a lad can make swell acquaintances who are useful in after life; but he had been well educated, his old father had not been niggardly with him; he had made him a fair allowance, and let him live like a gentleman. "I don't want my boy," he said, "to wish for my death because I won't give him sufficient for his expenses. Young men will be young men, and Arthur shall do as the rest do." So Arthur had his couple of hunters and a small manor to shoot over. He was a nice, quiet, gentlemanly, good-looking fellow, with plenty of common sense, which is not a common thing with young men of means of the present day. He rode fairly, fished fairly, and shot fairly. He detested the drysalting business; but it was too good a thing to give up. So when he came into the property he left it to the management of his father's old confidential clerk, whom he knew he could trust. George was fond of farming; he had a nice estate in Wiltshire, not too far from London, and a canny Scotchman as his bailiff. He liked yachting-in fact, all country amusements. A friend of his having made the pace too hot to last, Arthur took his hundred-ton schooner off his hands at a moderate price. He was not a racing or betting man, but he liked to see a race, and was fond of horses; so he kept his two riding ones, and three or four for carriage work, and was now on the look-out for half-a-dozen hunters for the coming season. He had a stall at the opera, which his uncle magnified into a box. As Arthur Martinette had plenty of means, he did not see why he should not enjoy himself, like other men similarly situated. Many men of his club had volunteered to introduce him into society, though as yet he had declined all offers. His uncle had been most pressing on this point; but as that gentleman's acquaintances were somewhat doubtful, he had not availed himself of his services. Arthur wished to get into good society; and he resolved that if he, with his fortune, could not get into the best, he would go into none. One night, as he was waiting his turn for his carriage to come up to take him from the opera, a fine white-headed old gentleman, who had been standing by him, was taken suddenly faint, for the heat was |