and I want to take you away from it-I hate to see you stared at by a lot of senseless gabies, who think they are patronising you by clapping their hands and thumping their infernal umbrellas. I hate to see these brutes of officers- we shall have them all here on Friday night, I suppose haw-hawing about the passages, and talking of you in their idiotic manner. I want to take you out of all this, I want to marry you and make you mine, and mine alone!" "To marry me!" she said with a very sad smile; you forget, Gerald, that I am six years older than you, and that I shall be an old woman 66 I "I knew you would say that! I hate it; you shouldn't say that," he broke out, impetuously. "How many hundreds of men are there who have married women older than themselves, and lived perfectly happy lives! You make yourself older than you are by the hard work you do. want to work for you, to slave for you, to make money that you may share it, to make a name that you may be proud of me, and I will do it yet. I am not always going to remain a drudge in a country theatre; I shall get the chance some day, and then, oh, Madge! how proud I shall be of you as my wife!" "You are a foolish boy," she said, bending her deep hazel eyes full upon him, "and must not talk to me in this way." "No," he said, curling his lip and shrugging his shoulders, “such talk is idle now, I know; I know I have nothing to offer now. If I ever had the chance of attaining a position I would ask you to marry me, for then the knowledge that I was fighting for you would nerve me in the struggle, and you would not say 'No' to me then, would you, Madge?" "You shall ask me when the chance arrives, Gerald," said the girl in a low tone, "and I will answer you then." grinding organ men. On this day, however, though the house was as quiet and Rose as vigilant as ever, Madge Pierrepoint could not sleep. She lay outside the bed, her long brown hair unloosed, hastily combed off her face and floating over her shoulders, her head resting on her hand, and an odd, wild gleam in her brown eyes. "How wonderful," she said to herself, "how wonderful that Gerald should choose to-day, of all days in the year, to say what he just said to me. I knew that he was fond of me, of course, I could not help knowing it, but he had never spoken so plainly as he did just now. What a contrast between what I heard last night and what I heard to-day! Philip grumbling at me for not making more money, grumbling at the sum, little enough but hardly earned, which I am able to send to him, dissatisfied because I have none of those accomplishments which, as he seems to think, alone go down with a London audience! And then this boy, hating the mere fact of my being compelled to appear in public, writhing under the notion that my name is bandied about in men's mouths, and that I am a subject of discussion, however complimentary; anxious only to give me rest, and quite contented, as he says, to slave for me, and desirous only of fame that I may share it with him! And Philip tells me he trusts me,' and bids me dally with the boy's affection, and see how much money can be made out of him! To that baseness I will not stoop! I will put an end to this nonsense altogether, I will no longer listen to-and yet how wonderfully soft and tender his manner is! Heaven knows my life is hard enough, a grinding servitude with only this one gleam of affection to light it up! And that I will not deny myself. No! the chance that Gerald talks of will never come. He will weary of me as Philip has wearied! Meanwhile, until he does so weary, I will not deprive myself of his society-no, nor of his worship-the only sunshine in my life!" of all who hope for elevation in human covered the means of preventing married nature. I have fallen upon one, however, love from flying away. If that be true, their book may fairly claim to be called the Book of Happiness. Let the reader judge of its quality. which might be translated with advantage, for the perusal of English-speaking maidens. It opens with the betrothal, a ceremony which, amongst civilised and Christian peoples, has dwindled down to a few consultations between families (even when it amounts to that), and a few words exchanged by the future husband and wife. But the Bible tells us how seriously it was regarded by the Hebrews, and to what an extent it bound the contracting parties. Breaches of promise of marriage, except for good and valid reasons, were things unheard of. The Israelites, faithful to their traditions, practise at the present day the ceremony of betrothal with the same solemnity as in olden time; or at least, if they do not take to the the synagogue very same presents that Joseph and Mary carried to the Temple, they still make their offering by breaking a vase before the altar. To mark the importance and validity of a betrothal, the Council of Trent declared clandestine betrothals to be null and void. It required them to be celebrated before the curé, in the presence of two or three witnesses at least. Greater weight was afterwards given to this article by an ordonnance of Louis the Thirteenth, which forbade any notary (that is, any civilian) to sanction or receive any proImise of the kind. Before the first French Revolution, such was the importance attached to this pious custom, that, except with an express dispensation from the bishop, a priest could not betroth and marry a young couple in the same day. It was requisite that a certain lapse of time, as a test of their fidelity, should intervene between the one ceremony and the other. The old French canon law had provided for the case in which a faithless fiancé should marry any other than his betrothed bride. The marriage, consecrated by a sacrament, was more binding than the simple engagement of betrothal; but if the culprit became a widower, and his first love required it of him, he was obliged to purge his guilt by taking her to wife. The pervading thought of Le Livre des Fiancées is that Love and Duty are brothers, and not enemies. The great secret is, not to separate them. To those who love, everything becomes easy and able. Our authors think they have dis agree Before marriage there is unclouded sunshine. The young woman, adorned with the charms of her spring-tide, is kind and artless; she is careful not to err in her slightest actions. A good and provident genius, her mother, is always at hand to watch her movements, divine her thoughts, and to rectify whatever might tend to lead her astray. The young man, captivated by those pleasing qualities which are heightened by his own enthusiastic imagination, ardently longs for the blissful moment when so charming a companion shall become his He loves, he hopes, he does his very utmost to please. Any defects he may have, like those of his fair one, are completely hidden. Each party is enchanted with the other. own. Fear, then, the inevitable moment when illusions shall be dissipated, and commonplace daylight succeed to the hues of the prism. Meet it rather by preparing the i means of avoiding successive falls from deception to deception. The ideal flowers || which embalm the soul frequently fade for want of proper culture. In the first place, fair readers, in order that unchanging love may take possession of your hearts and gain your husbands', you must trample underfoot the paltry ambition which has undone many charming women, who otherwise would have been adored, namely, the spirit of mastery. To fulfil one's duties properly, it is necessary, above all, to know them thoroughly, and then to lay down a strict rule to oneself never to fail in their observance. Weak people are frightened at such a notion, and weak people suffer the consequences. A rare merit, for example, is to take a strict account of one's exact position, and then to conform oneself to it. How many young wives have created for themselves deception after deception, for want of having had the good sense to accept cheerfully certain rules laid down by their husbands! Which brings us back to the relative positions of husband and wife. Civil and religious laws, which are not the work of arbitrary caprice but the consequence of the laws of nature, require that the wife should be obedient to her husband. She undertakes, in France, a solemn engagement, both before the magistrate and upon before the minister of God. Twice she makes that promise on oath. No constraint is put her. Up to the last moment she has only to say "No," and the marriage does not take place of which there are not infrequent instances. Why, then, should she revolt against this authority, thus freely accepted? Remain single, mademoiselle, if you have no inclination for the duties imposed on a wife. Many brides, while promising obedience, make a sort of mental reservation, which is equally offensive to honesty and to good sense. In all times, and in all countries, a chief is absolutely necessary. Attachment to a worthy prince thus becomes a virtue, because his person represents the country, which is the image of the common interest. In a family, which constitutes a little state, a chief is equally requisite. That chief is the husband, and all the members of the family owe him respect, submission, devotion. to keep their husbands within household bounds. That is to say, those gentlemen often feel the wish to seek amusement elsewhere without their spouses. It is hanging matter; but it happens only too frequently. Recollect that men, by marrying, renounce their most valuable possession-or, at least, what they consider such —namely, their liberty. Eh bien! women in general hardly appreciate the sacrifice sufficiently, and refuse to believe that their condition is at all changed in that respect. Nevertheless, you cannot help allowing that if men, by marrying, give up their liberty, your sex on the contrary (in France) gets married for the sake of acquiring more liberty. In exchange for this liberty which he valued so highly, a man expects some different kind of satisfaction. If he does not find it at home, he seeks compensating pleasures elsewhere. From that day the wife's existence is embittered. Her heart is full; and a brimful heart is as hard to carry as a brimful cup. The slightest shock causes it to overflow. Never persist in useless discussions with your husband. Should such begin, remember J. P. Richter's saying, "Many men resemble glass, which is smooth and inoffen- Whenever your husband returns to his sive so long as it is unbroken; but which, home, invariably receive him with a pleaonce broken, cuts and pierces with every sant smile. Accost him with warm and edge and angle." Doubtless, there are open cheerfulness; let your countenance moments when it is difficult to restrain express the delight you feel at seeing him oneself which increases the merit of again; let a day's absence appear, for self-command. By repressing any utter- you, as if it were a separation of a quarter ance of displeasure or acerbity, you will be of a century. It is the surest way to make better able to have a satisfactory explana-him cheerful in return. Do not take the tion with your husband. There is great art in choosing the propitious moment. Remember, also, the words of Daniel Stern, "The vulgar complain of being hated, calumniated, or rejoice at being cherished, beloved. The wise man cares less about the sentiments he inspires, than about those he feels. He knows that what is really bitter and painful is, not to be hated, but to hate; that what is pleasant, noble, and great, is, not to be loved, but to love." trouble to examine whether his countenance be anxious or no; above all, not to inquire whether he be good or ill tempered at the moment; drive from your thoughts the idea of ascertaining whether he is disposed to make himself agrecable; but display instinctively your expansive affection, and contrive cleverly to chase any dark clouds from his mind, if your warm reception has not sufficed to do so. Accustom yourself to address your husband with such frankness that he must see your soul is on your lips. Do we not all feel a natural sympathy for countenances which beam with cheerfulness? To sustain love a long time and transform it eventually into a warm and lasting friendship, it is requisite to keep one's heart above all weakness. The first thing is to inspire esteem; and esteem is not heed- If you say to yourself, "To-day I mean lessly bestowed, but must be won by an to be happy," it is a rash promise, a irreproachable conduct. Nor does this hasty project. But if you say, "To-day solid quality alone suffice; the form must I mean to give some one pleasure,' be added to the substance; that is, you it is an amiable intention, which will must be at the same time estimable and rarely deceive your hopes. Such conduct attractive. In the efforts you make with is generous and delicate in the extreme, that intention, remember that "a woman and cannot fail to bear good fruit. Delihas often more wrinkles in her temper than cacy, moreover, is the combined expression on her face." of the best qualities of the head and the heart. "The first fault committed by It is not so easy as young wives imagine married people," says Madame de Puisieux, "is the want of sufficient mutual respect and deference." Observe, therefore, great consideration and deference for your husband's tastes and opinions. Such proofs of affection will both touch his heart and flatter his selfesteem. To have even the air of doubting your husband's judgment, capacity, and ability, will not only offend his allowable confidence in his own opinions, it does worse; it makes him suspect that your confiding love for him has ceased. Have we not enormous faith in those whom we really love? And do we not stand up for their personal merit as much as, or more than, we would for our own? Love for giveth all things, hopeth all things. Never lose sight of the principle that your duties to your husband ought to take precedence of all other duties. Let no excuse or pretext induce you to fail in them. Better, a hundred times better, to sacrifice every acquaintance, every friend, than to sacrifice one's own dear husband. Carefully avoid appearing to despise your husband's friends. If you perceive that they are insincere, warn him of the fact with great precaution. If you believe it contrary to your interest that he should continue to frequent them, take great pains not to offend his self-esteem by the measures you adopt to wean him from them. It is a great humiliation to be obliged to confess that one has set one's affections on unworthy persons. If you can lead him to make the discovery himself, your object will be gained, with offence to no one. husband's affections; to display affectionate confidence, boundless devotion, and a preference for him above all other men, is no more natural than honourable. Such conduct inspires, and merits, a complete reciprocity of love. But to take offence, to become suspicious, and give way to ill humour, is to render oneself at once unjust and ridiculous. Coarse and violent jealousy is mistrust of the beloved object; subdued and smothered jealousy is mistrust to oneself. "Suspicion," says J. P. Richter, "is the base coin of truth." "When love turns jealous," says M. Müller, "he has a hundred eyes like Argus, but not two of his hundred eyes see clear." If your husband makes himself agreeable in society, and you impute it to him as a crime; if, on returning home, you pout, sulk, and treat him coldly, the consequence will be to make you insupportable, and you will pay dear for it before very long. "to en Domestic happiness is a work of patience; its continuance depends on moderation and prudence. It is only slowly and by degrees that we reach the summit of the ladder, whilst one false step suffices to precipitate us from the top to the bottom. It is certainly strange that, for years, young people are taught their able them to speak and write correctly;" but no one has yet compiled a grammar, within the reach of ordinary capacities, to help them to lead a happy life. The Livre des Fiancées makes the attempt, relying mainly on the conjugation of the verb aimer, to love. grammar, One thing which people do not always manage to avoid in a new-established household is monotony. It is, nevertheless, posNever strive to have the last word. Say sible to combat this dangerous enemy, who what you want to say, and then change has furnished the subject of unnumbered the conversation with tact and cheerful-jokes, amongst which "toujours perdrix" ness. The reverse of this too often takes place. A witty Englishman pleasantly remarked, "Two sets of men attempt a labour in vain. The first set try to have the last word with their wives. The second set, after they have had it, try to make them own that they have been in the wrong." There are topics which must not be neglected because they are far from pleasant to treat of; amongst these is jealousy. Jealousy is the sister of Love, as Satan is the brother of the angels. Weep with love, but never with jealousy. Cold rains do not produce beautiful flowers. To manifest the desire of possessing, to the exclusion of all other women, your stands conspicuous. A grand resource is to acquire a good store of conversation, to be augmented continually by reading and reflection. The quality called "esprit" by the French-cleverness, intellect, mental vigour, wit-is certainly improved by practice, quite as much as piano-playing is. The woman who exercises her conversational powers, polishing and repolishing them day by day, takes the sure steps to arrive at perfection. It will greatly help her, if she can lay down clear ideas and fixed principles respecting certain subjects. She can then speak of them lucidly and decidedly, which will not prevent her adopting a modest tone, and will also bring into greater relief the caution she will exercise, in giving her opinion on questions she has not yet fathomed. Practice, which produces the sharp debater, also makes the ready converser. It also gives the presence of mind which enables the exercise of repartee, and the faculty of parrying inconvenient observations in a manner which shall be amusing instead of offensive. Often, in the course of their lives, have women need of this useful power, of which men are so proud, when they possess it. And it really is no trifling advantage to be able to decide instantaneously, under difficult circumstances, what is best to say or do. Young married women must expect their trials. There is no concealing the fact that men are not always perfect. They have their faults, like everybody else.. One of the worst is giving way to passion; and the great danger of this failing is that it tends to go on increasing; in which case, it would ruin the happiness of the household. If your husband unfortunately be so inclined, endeavour to check him at the very outset. A sensible woman has her arms ready at hand-amiability, gentleness, persuasion. Inspire your husband, whatever be his temper, with confidence, and, above all, with esteem and affection, and you will exercise over him a powerful influence. But beware of letting it appear that you are proud, or even conscious of that influence. The slightest symptom of such a feeling would inevitably offend your husband. The merest trifle would shake your empire. Moreover, by ignoring the authority of the head of the family, you make your husband ridiculous and lower your own consideration. After the charms of your pretty person, what, think you, were the qualities which attracted your husband? Were they not the favourable opinion he conceived of your good management, your economy, the orderly life you led, your fondness for home? Henceforth and immediately let your actions prove that if you practised those virtues under your parents' eyes, it was because they were intimately bound up with your nature. It follows that a young wife's first care should be to render her home agreeable. Let her apartments be kept in perfect neatness, with order in the slightest minutiæ, and abundant taste. When the eyes are flattered, the imagination easily yields to the charm. Let her also remember that simplicity is the coquetry of good taste. If the poetic aspect of the household offers great seductions, the material details of life must not be neglected; and to attend to these properly, great patience is often requisite. The most reasonable of menpity they should-have their moments of irritation. The wife ought to keep to herself all the worries and troubles that spring from cooks, domestics, and seamstresses. All the husband wants is the result, which the wife will render as satisfactory as possible without disturbing his mind by recounting at length the difficulties she has had in accomplishing the feat. Time has two wings, with one of which he wipes our tears, and with the other sweeps away our joys. Keep that second wing at a distance as long as you can. Happiness also has wings; and he is a bird who, having once taken flight, seldom perches twice on the same branch. After this pretty little allegory we take leave of our Book for Brides, which contains a good deal of common sense, although it will not commend itself greatly to the strong-minded sisterhood. OUR STUDIO IN THE WEST INDIES. I "ROOM" with Napoleón Rodriguez y Boldú. We are both "followers of the divine art of Apelles"—at least so the local papers describe us-and we have pitched our tent in a Cuban town. Our tent is a Roman-tiled dwelling, consisting of six rooms on a single floor, with a wide balcony in front, and a spacious patio, or courtyard, at the back. We have no furniture worth mentioning; furniture in Cuba being represented by a few cane or leatherbottomed chairs, some spittoons, and a small square of carpet. But our walls are well hung with works of art in various stages of progress, which, in a great measure, compensate for the otherwise barren appearance of our apartments. Our studio is a spacious chamber on a level with the street which it overlooks. The windows occupy more than half of the wall space, are guiltless of glass, and are protected by iron bars. The accessories of our strange calling lend an interest to our domestic arrangements, and form a kind of free entertainment for the vulgar. To insure privacy, we have sometimes curtained the lower half of our enormous windows; but this contrivance has always proved ineffectual, for in the midst of our labour, the space above the curtains has been gradu |