Carlino, red as a cock's comb up to the | began not to be quite so clear as to that very roots of his hair, bowed low, and has- after a conversation I had with you in reftened to his master. He found him as erence to your sister. At that moment I white as the sheet which covered him, but was for the first time thinking of making with a placid face. my will, and debating with myself whether I should be justified in benefiting some stranger by the exclusion of my sister. In short, the seed you had sown in my mind during the conversation to which I allude, never ceased growing until it bore fruit. You will be glad to hear that in the will I have made to-day, I have left my sister the bulk of my fortune- a result for which she may well be thankful to you." "I am so thankful to have been in time," he said. 66 Did Monsieur Giblat give you a paper?" Carlino made an affirmative sign. "All right. By-and-by I will tell you something that will give you pleasure. I require rest now, and you also, my poor Carlino." "We will, please God, have a sound sleep, and not wake before to-morrow morning," rejoined Carlino, cheerfully; "but first Monsieur must take the drink that Madame Ferrolliet is bringing him." The Baron did so, with many thanks to Madame. Monsieur has no need to rouse himself," added Carlino, "when from time to time I give him a spoonful from the bottle. It is the same potion which has already done Monsieur so much good." "I will swallow it as in a dream," said the Baron. Carlino brought in a mattress, placed it by the side of the bed, arranged his master's pillows and bed-clothes, closed the blinds, and then laid himself down. It was then six o'clock in the afternoon. The Baron slept, to all appearance soundly, and did but half wake when Carlino, in obedience to the doctor's prescription, every half hour put a spoonful of the cordial into his mouth. At a little after midnight the patient awoke fully, and said suddenly," Carlino, did I ever tell you that I had a sister?" "No, sir- is she dead?" "Rather say to Monsieur's just and kind heart," exclaimed Carlino, with a gush of feeling. And Monsieur forgives her?" 66 "I do fully," said Baron Gaston. "I stand more in need of her pardon than she of mine, for she was always kind to me while I was very harsh to her." And here he told Carlino of that most affectionate letter which he had received from his sister shortly after his accident, and of the scornful silence with which he had treated it. "Reason the more," said Carlino, "why Monsieur should not lose a moment in acknowledging to her that he did wrong, and in sending her his love and blessing. What is the lady's name? Where does she live?" "Her name is Madame Marie Moron, and her letter was dated from Le Mans." "Shall I write and invite her to come to Monsieur at the Castle?" "Not just now. I feel that the emotion of such a meeting would be too much for me.". "At all events, Monsieur will permit me to write to her an account of the conversation we have just had ?" "Yes, you may do so," said the Baron. He looked rather drowsy, and his utterance had become somewhat thick and embarrassed; thereupon Carlino hid the nightlight and begged his master to try and sleep again. He tried, but with little success, as shown by the frequent mutterings to which he gave way, and the only distinct words that could be heard was the oft-repeated name of Divonne. Perhaps he was dreaming, and in that case it would be a pity to wake.him. Carlino sat up, and listened long, much perplexed what to do, until his uneasiness got the better of his unwillingness to run the risk of interrupting his master's slumbers. He stood by the bed-side and asked, you in pain, sir?" 66 "Are Quite the contrary," was the reply. “I have not felt so comfortable for a long while. I feel as light as a feather! What o'clock is it?" "Nearly three in the morning." Suppose you order a carriage and let us start for the Castle at eight?" 66 46 Certainly," said Carlino, humouring the Baron's notion. "We'll see the doctor though, first. Monsieur must have been dreaming about Divonne.” "So I was. A glorious place that Divonne! Do you remember that girl who could not even sit up? I wonder what has become of her." 66 'Let us hope that she is better," answered Carlino. A long pause ensued. had made a mystery to no one, except to the faithful servant: we say in his own justification, for had the doctor perceived any the least glimpse of hope, he would have been inexcusable in allowing his patient to be fatigued by notaries and testamentary arrangements. Yet even the physician did not expect so rapid an end. After the first uncontrollable burst of grief, Carlino bethought himself that there still remained duties for him to perform, and that to perform them properly he must be composed. His first care was to telegraph to Madame Moron, and to make himself ac "Where is your harmonica?" asked the quainted with the contents of the paper con Baron, all at once. "I have it here, sir." "Play on it a little, will you? It will put me to sleep." Carlino took up his little instrument and played some chords. 66 Delicious!" muttered the Baron. "It is like music from heaven. Sleep steals softly on me. Good night, Carlino." "Good-night, dear master." fided to him by Monsieur Giblat. These were its contents: "When it shall please God to call me to Him, I beg of my faithful servant and dear friend, Carlo Benvenuti, to give me a last proof of attachment by never leaving my body until it is consigned to the earth. "I wish to be buried in the Cemetery of Chambery, as near as possible to the grave of my uncle, the Vidame de Kerdiat. I wish "And friend," prompted the Baron, in a the Church service in behalf of my soul, and scarcely audible whisper. "And friend," repeated Carlino. The incipient dawn was tinging with whitish grey the interstices of the bars of the closed blinds, and imparting to the air a pleasant freshness. It was that mysterious hour of universal appeasement, when even the anxious and the sick lay down their load for a while, and find rest. Carlino felt the influence of the hour, and though with reluctance, succumbed to it. He had not shut his eyes for the last forty-eight hours, and tired nature asserted her rights. He fell into profound sleep, which, however, did not last long, not so long as an hour. He awakened with a sense of remorse, as of one who had deserted his post. He raised himself first on his elbow, as was his wont, and listened. No sound whatever. He went to the bed, bent over his master's lips-no breath issued from them - he felt his forehead cold as ice. Carlino rung the bell furiously to alarm the house. Every one hurried to the room, the doctor was sent for, everything was done that could be done to restore animation, but in vain. Baron Gaston de Kerdiat had laid down his burden for ever. Carlino soon found out, to his great surprise, that of all the persons who had approached his master, he was the only one not prepared for this fatal result. The physician from the first had looked upon the Baron as dying a too well-founded conclusion, of which, in his own justification, he also my funeral, to be of the simplest, nay, of the humblest. No lettres de faire part, no music, no pomp whatever, no epitaph, no inscription of name or rank, to mark the spot where my bones lie, nothing save a small cross of marble. "On the day after my burial I wish two thousand francs to be distributed among the poor of the place where I shall have died. "I recommend the strict accomplishment of these my last wishes to the known piety and affection of the above-named Carlo Benvenuti, my faithful servant and dear friend." Carlino conformed strictly to the spirit and the letter of these directions. The only departure from them which he allowed, or rather had no control over it, was the great affluence of persons who followed the body to the cemetery. In the absence of Madame Moron, Carlino, as a matter of course, was chief mourner. Monsieur and Madame Moron arrived on the day following the funeral. The telegram had missed them at Le Mans, which they had left ten months previously, and in following them to Amiens, their new abode, had lost a day. Carlino gave them a faithful account of the conversation which had passed between his master and himself in reference to Madame Moron - an account with what emotion received, I leave to the reader's heart to determine. The opening of the deceased's will took. place on the day week after the funeral. In the interval the Morons and Carlino had been much together, and had become quite friends. The Baron left to his sister the | ever have expected in the natural course of whole of his fortune, save a sum of eighty things, and we must put our heads together thousand francs, nominal value, in Pied-to find out what best to do with it. The montese bonds, bequeathed to Carlino. The clause containing this legacy was worded thus: 66 To my faithful servant, and dear friend, Carlo Benvenuti, to whose attachment and devotion I am indebted not only for all the physical and moral comfort of which my illness admitted, but also for much evil avoided, and for a little good done, I leave and bequeath for his sole use and benefit the sum of," &c., &c. Carlino's legacy amounted to nearly the fourth part of the Baron's whole fortune. Carlino had lost no time in letting Victorine know of his master's death, and now he wrote again to tell her of the Baron's liberality, adding- "I know from our late master's lips that it was his intention to provide for you in a permanent manner, and I am only acting up to his wishes and to my own conscience when I assure you that you will receive a thousand francs yearly so long as you live." Writing on the same subject to Beata, his affianced bride, he said—"And so here we are possessors of a large fortune - large, I mean, in proportion to anything we could money has come to us through suffering and sorrow, and it is but justice that some of it should return to the sorrowful and the suffering. I have often thought what a blessing it would be to our folks at Bovino if, instead of being packed off when sick to the hospital at Biella, a two hours' journey, they had a place to go in the village itself, where they could in the first instance receive some medical assistance-only a small place, a couple of beds to begin with. That surely would not cost much in our parts. Nurses we should not want - you and I would be more than enough. The great difficulty would be to find a good physician to help, but we may trust to God to help us. Think on it; I know you are willing." The modest cross of marble being by this time laid on the Baron's resting-place, and the Morons gone to the Castle, nothing more remained for Carlino to do than to bid an affectionate farewell to Madame Ferrolliet, and to all his other old and new friends, and to set off for his beloved country, where we wish him success in his benevolent scheme, and all manner of happiness. THE END. A NEW TROPICAL LANDSCAPE. CHURCH'S JAMAICA. THE gorgeous character of tropical scenery illustrated under the blended effect of storm and sunshine is the theme of a recent painting by Frederic E. Church, which was opened for a private view at the Goupil gallery yesterday afternoon. The scene of the landscape is on the fertile island of Jamaica, and presents a view of an interior district known as "St. Thomas in the Vale." The face of the country, as it spreads out before the beholder, and viewed as it is from an elevation, appears clothed, hill and dale alike, with the most luxuriant vegetation, bright flowers sparkling amid the masses of shrubbery and ferns, and running vines lending their picturesque and graceful forms to the enchantment of the scene. On the left of the canvas, drawn as if by inspiration, is a mass of drifting vapor, and through a rift in its centre the sunlight struggles for the mastery, tinging the weird storm-clouds with its radiating hues of golden color, and flashing over mountain and valley with a varied effect of surpassing brilliancy, and focalizing in one broad mass in the foreground. To the right a stream of water di able phase of prolific vegetable life; until the eye, sated with the sea of living green, turns to the sky, and there realizing the impressive character of the phenomena of storm pictured on the left, seeks a repose among the pearly clouds which float on the opalescent vault of the more distant heavens. A tender effect of atmosphere pervades the view, and a masterly diffused feeling of light shines broadcast over the landscape, save where the storm rages. Mr. Church, in sending this picture out from his studio, says that it is a representative landscape, and locally faithful to the facts of nature as characterized in one of the most brilliant features and phases of Jamaica scenery. In the working-up of the picture the most conscientious care is apparent in every detail. In color it is possibly not so gorgeous as his " Heart of the Andes" and kindred works, not so quiet and subtle as “Damascus," and yet it inspires feelings of admiration for the unsensational beauty of its story, unequalled by any of his former efforts. N. Y. Evening Post. THE University of Vienna has decided to open vides the landscape, and on either side the for- its medical lectures to, and confer medical diploests and plantations present the same intermin-mas on, women. Here, where the Apostle's heart of rock Here, where on eagle's wings we move "Master, it is good to be Entranc'd, enwrapt, alone with Thee;" V. There is none other which brings together so many characteristic points: the contrast and contact with the miseries of the world, the connexion with the choicest spirits of the Old and of the New Dispensa-"Master, it is good to be tion, the Ideal of human life, the near prospect of the Death and Passion, and the revelation of the Divine Will as the main purpose of the Advent. It is certainly curious that no Hymn bearing on this subject is to be found in Sir Roundell Palmer's "Book of Praise," nor in the "Christian Year." It is a remarkable instance of the tendency of" Christian devotion to avoid the lessons to be derived from the general scenes of the Gospel narrative, just as the Mediæval pilgrimages omitted Capernaum and the Plain of Gennesareth. In accordance with this suggestion, I have endeavoured (as in a Hymn written some years ago on the Ascension) to combine, as far as was possible, the various thoughts connected with the scene. In life's worst anguish close to Thee." VI. Master, it is good to be I have subsequently fallen in with another Hymn on the same subject, but from another point of view. I venture, with its gifted author's permission, to insert it, as supplying a phase of the wonderful scene which the plan of the Hymn, given above, could hardly admit. Stay, Master, stay, upon this heavenly hill; With these two mighty ones of old beside, "Stay, Master, stay! we breathe a purer air; We cannot speak them-nay, we do not know: Mark ix. 2. ** Luke ix. 31. ++ Matt, xvii. 5. Wrapt in this cloud of light, we seem to be "No!" saith the Lord, "the hour is past; we go: Our home, our life, our duties lie below. While here we kneel upon the mount of prayer, The plough lies waiting in the furrow there : will: There we must do it - serve Him-seek Him still." From The Spectator. A STAR IN FLAMES. AGAIN we have news from the Southern skies, and again the scene of interest lies in that marvellous region of the heavens which forms the extremity of the keel of Argo. In this glorious region of the skies stars are spread with a profusion which surpasses anything seen from our northerly stand-point. From Sirius southwards towards Canopus the density of stellar aggregation steadily increases. Thence along the keel of the great ship stars of all magIf man aspires to reach the throne of God, nitudes are spread in greater and greater O'er the dull plains of earth must lie the road. profusion, so that, as Humboldt tells us, He who best does his lowly duty here, the sky here sheds a radiance resembling Shall mount the highest in a nobler sphere : that of the young moon, and by the mere At God's own feet our spirits seek their rest, increase of light one can tell without turnAnd he is nearest Him who serves Him best.*ing towards Argo when her resplendent keel There is yet one other Hymn of earlier is rising above the horizon. days which has its basis in the Transfig- where the Milky Way narrows down towards uration, but which is in fact only another the great nebula in Argo that the climax of "It is not easy," form of the " Elegy in a Country Church- splendour is reached. Lines written" by Her- writes Sir John Herschel," for language to bert Knowles in Richmond Churchyard, convey a full impression of the beauty and Yorkshire; "the beautiful cemetery which sublimity of the spectacle which this nebula hangs on the slope of the hill under the offers, as it enters the field of view of the parish church, overlooking the Swale. I telescope, ushered in as it is by so glorious and innumerable a procession of stars." give the first and last stanzas. vard." It is the 66 64 But it is When Sir John Herschel wrote thus, there lay in the very heart of that amazing nebula a fixed star which shone as brightly as Aldebaran or Antares. Eta Argûs, for the star has received no special title, and is spoken of only by its Greek letter, had been described by Halley as a star of the fourth magnitude. Later the French astronomer Lacaille saw it of the second magful-nitude. While Sir John Herschel was pur The first Tabernacle to Hope we will build And look for the sleepers around us to rise; The second to Faith which ensures it filled, And the third to the Lamb of the great sacrifice, Who bequeathed us them both when He rose from the skies. 66 There are five Latin Hymns on the Transfiguration, given in Daniel's " Thesaurus Hymnologicus," vol. v. pp. 288-290, Nos. 566-570. Of these Nos. 566 and 570 have some merit. In the Breviary for the Feast of the Transfiguration (August 14) is a short Hymn, Amor Jesu dulcissime." There is also a Hymn of S. Cosmas, translated by Dr. Neale, given in "Hymns used in the Parish Church of Bethnal Green," No. 351. It brings out forcibly one idea of the scene; but is too much mixed up with the legendary doctrine of the Uncreated Light of Mount Tabor to be suitable for general use. 194. suing his wonderful series of observations on the Southern heavens, this star shone as a moderate first-magnitude star, and in his noble picture of the great nebula (which lies before us as we write), the star is placed in the very densest part of the nebulous matter, and close by the borders of the mysterious vacuity which marks the central region of the nebula. Since 1837, however, the star has exhibited new and even more surprising changes. It increased in splendour in a strangely fluctuating manner, occasionally losing brilliance for awhile, to renew its glories presently, until at length, in 1843, it surpassed Canopus in brightness and rivalled even the blazing Sirius. Then began a long process of decadence, the star falling gradually away from magnitude to magnitude until it almost passed the limits of naked-eye vision, and came to be described as a low sixth“Scenes from the Life of Jesus," by S. Greg, P. around it waxed in splendour. When Hermagnitude star. Meantime, the nebula |