the path to Lettergesch. He paused and looked at every brambly ruin that met him on his glad way, like so many skeletons at spring's feast of sunshine. Whence came he, for he looked not on Connemara with a stranger's eyes?

Honoria's day's work was done. She had lingered long at the doorway, watching the sun go down, and the moon rise young and fair over that far Atlantic, whose waters met the horizon with a white foaming line. The curlew had screamed his farewell from the rocks, and the night had gathered mild and serene, tracing with its mystic finger bright arabesques of stars over the dim curtain of the sky.

Honoria knelt at her prayers, with Willie's child slumbering beside her. A sound startled her. She looked up to see a strange shadow, coming between her and the stars.

Honoria rose to her feet, and, wondering, advanced to have her two hands clasped, and her ear filled by a well-known, long-silent voice. It was Willie Glen.

Willie, no longer drooping and dejected, but stalworth and erect, with frank, kindly speech, and a gentleman's bearing, as poor Honoria thought, and was awed.

Willie, with years of prosperity hanging around him like a mantle, too rich and vivid for Honoria's homely eyes to look on. Willie, holding her hauds, and asking her to welcome him home. Oh! she had welcome to give him in a measure full and overflowing, but she had then no means of pouring it out at his feet.

She led him to the sleeping child, who was quickly roused by her father's kisses; and then the strange feeling has thawed away, and all the old stories were told, and God's special mercies counted and compared.

They sat at the door in the starlight. "Honor," said Willie, when many things had been talked over, and many dear graves visited reverently, in spirit, "I have one question to ask you, and if your answer be not the one my heart covets, I'll just say good-bye, and go across the sea again, where I come from."

And he asked his question in a lowered voice that none but herself had any right to hear. Again Honoria's hands were taken and held. She left them in Willie's, and said, looking frankly into his eyes

"So help me God, Willie Glen, I'll be a good wife to you, and a mother to your child."

It was very late when Honoria closed her door upon Willie's retreating footsteps, and was alone with her God and her great comfort.

Letthereen was repurchased with Willie's far-fetched gold, and throve and flourished, and joy rewarded Honoria's deep truth and faith by abiding with her, even to the brink of an eternity of Hope.

A CENTURY has elapsed since the important office of Prime Minister of England was held by Pelham, Duke of Newcastle, and of all the men who have occupied that powerful position, there never has been one whose name is more unimportant, or whose career is less calculated to enable the historian to notice any one great measure or any one great personal characteristic for the guidance or imitation of a British statesman. William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, was one of his colleagues, and they worked most harmoniously; Pitt desired only such power as might be exercised by a high-minded, proud, self-respecting man; he wished to keep his hands clean from either giving or receiving the wages of corruption. Newcastle, on the contrary, had a natural inclination for trafficking, and, like the impure birds of the Eastern deserts, manifested the strongest appetite for the strongest food. He strenuously insisted that he, and he alone, should have the disposal of the secret service money, and he felt more happy in securing the vote of a stray country gentleman by the promise of a gaugership for an illegitimate son, than in standing by his sovereign's throne whilst the representatives of the highest powers in Europe sought the Royal presence. Had Pitt been a peasant boy, he would have become a goat-herd, and leading his flock to pure and elevated localities, his desire would be to see his care

"Dumosa pendere procul de rupe."

Newcastle, if born a peasant, would have taken to tending swine, and his only fault in such a pursuit would be that he would never cleanse the styes. But, as ministers of the British Crown, the dissimilarity of their dispositions prevented the collisions which would naturally occur between men following the same objects through the same motives. When they met, Newcastle evinced a most agreeable pliancy in reference to Pitt's policy, and Pitt, aspiring to make himself the Great Commoner of England, and to render his name familliar as household words in every court in Europe, left the distribution of official garbage to the jobbing duke.

In 1754, Newcastle was busily engaged in using, to the best advantage, all the ministerial patronage, with a view to increase his adherents in the House of Commons, the Parliament having been dissolved. At the same time, Pitt was most anxious to employ all the influence of the British Government to promote the election of the Archduke Joseph as King of the Romans, in case of the death of the Emperor Francis I. The Duke was thinking of the Cornish boroughs: the Commoner was engrossed with the maintenance or augmentation of British influence on the continent, and only revolving how he could most effectually smite the Bourbons. The First Lord of the Treasury had established communications with every borough in which he had the slightest chance of gaining a seat. Pitt was more anxious that the British Minister at Vienna should have couriers ready to start with intelligence as to the issue of the Emperor's indisposition, in order that threats, promises, and subsidies might be at once applied to the several members of the German Diet. But an interference with his plans occurred, and an attack was made upon him, to which he was compelled for a time to yield. The gout assailed him, and, at once perceiving that the fit would be so severe as utterly to incapacitate him for some time from attending to business, he drove to the spacious mansion at the corner of Lincoln's Inn-fields, and communicated to his ducal colleague the necessity by which he was impelled to succumb for a time to his infirmity. Then, hastily imparting his political views, and urging on Newcastle their vast importance, he desired that, on the arrival of messengers from the continent, the Duke should give them immediate audience. His Grace at once entered into the desires of Pitt, and instantly gave directions that any person arriving, and desiring an interview, should be at once brought to his presence, whether early or late; and that a porter should remain up at night, for the purpose of securing the messengers' prompt admission. Content with this arrangement, Pitt departed, and the Duke resumed a consultation with one of his supporters, Colonel Drisdale, who was about to contest the Cornish borough of St. Michael's, in opposition to Clive, who had returned from his early achievements in India, and brought that admirable recommendation to a borough constituency-a full purse. Clive was supported at St. Michael's by the powerful interest of Lord Sandwich. Newcastle was determined that Drisdale should be returned: he now eagerly applied himself to investigate the promise-book of his friend,-to interrogate him respecting his canvass, and to suggest future operations. Drisdale was desponding.

VOL. II.

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