LEGENDS OF TRACHENBERG. BY JOHN OXENFORD, ESQ. THE BOOK OF THE CAPE. EDITED BY THE AUTHOR OF FIVE YEARS IN KAFIRLAND."-ADVENTURES OF A GREEK LADY. WRITTEN BY HER- SELF.-WAYSIDE PICTURES THROUGH FRANCE, BELGIUM, AND HOLLAND. BY ROBERT BELL.-THE FORTUNES OF WOMAN: MEMOIRS, EDITED BY MISS LAMONT.-A MEMOIR OF THE COUNTESS DE ROSSI (MADAME SON- TAG). BEFORE AND AFTER.-CRAYFORD; OR, THE FORCE OF INFLU- ENCE.-MOOLTAN. BY JOHN DUNLOP, M.D.-THE MARINE BOTANIST. BY ISABELLA GIFFORD.-PORTLAND ISLAND AND BREAKWATER.-NA- TIONAL EVILS AND PRACTICAL REMEDIES. BY JAMES S. BUCKINGHAM. (FOR OCTOBER):-MATERNAL LOVE. A NOVEL. BY MAR- GRATIA LOUDON.-THE OLD WORLD AND THE NEW. A NOVEL. BY MRS. TROLLOPE.-ERNESTO DI RIPALTA: A TALE OF THE ITALIAN REVOLU- CROSLAND (LATE CAMILLA TOULMIN). — TINTS FROM AN AMATEUR'S (FOR NOVEMBER):-THE OGILVIES. A NOVEL.-THE CAX- TONS: A FAMILY PICTURE. BY SIR E. BULWER LYTTON, BART.— ERNEST VANE. BY ALEXANDER BAILLIE COCHRANE, M.P.-THE LORD OF THE MANOR; OR, LIGHTS AND SHADES OF COUNTRY LIFE. BY JOHN THOMAS HALL, ESQ.-SELECTIONS FROM THE POEMS AND LETTERS OF BERNARD BARTON. EDITED BY HIS DAUGHTER.-FRENCH AND ENGLISH DICTIONARY. BY PROFESSOR A. SPIERS, PH.D.-THE ROMANCE OF THE PEERAGE; OR, CURIOSITIES OF FAMILY HISTORY. BY GEORGE LILLIE (FOR DECEMBER):-THE FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 1848: FROM THE 24TH OF FEBRUARY TO THE ELECTION OF THE FIRST PRESI- DENT. BY CAPTAIN CHAMIER, R.N.-MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE ENGLISH. BY MRS. WHITAKER.-SHIRLEY. A TALE. BY CURRER BELL. -THE GOLDEN CALF; OR, PRODIGALITY AND SPECULATION IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.-PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF MRS. MARGARET MAITLAND OF SUNNYSIDE. WRITTEN BY HERSELF. HANDS NOT HEARTS. A TALE OF THE DAY. BY JANET W. WILKINSON.-DARK NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. POSTHUMOUS MEMOIR OF MYSELF. 66 AUTHOR OF BRAMBLETYE HOUSE," &c. &c. [Accidental circumstances prevented the appearance of this Tale during the life-time of its gifted and lamented Author, but the proofs were corrected by him. Taken in connexion with the melancholy event which so speedily and unexpectedly followed its composition, the article presents a singular coincidence of title, and becomes invested with deep and peculiar interest.ED, N. M. MAG.] CHAPTER I. "You here!" I exclaimed, in no very courteous tone, as I turned round, and saw my old friend Dr. Linnel quietly seating himself by my bedside. "Who sent for you?" "No one; I was brought hither by one of the best and prettiest young ladies in all Warwickshire-your daughter." “Then Sarah has not only taken a very great liberty, but has disobeyed my positive orders, as she has done more than once lately. For some time past has she been pestering me to send for you, which I have constantly refused to do. I have told her, at least a hundred times, that I don't like physic, and hate doctors." "I am glad to see that your malady has not injured your talent for paying compliments." 66 Nay, I meant not to say anything rude or personal. As a visitant or a friend I am always glad to see you. Even when you are sarcastic and say sharp things, as you do sometimes, one cannot be offended with a man who wears such a bland, imperturbable smile, and speaks in so soft a voice; but as a writer of prescriptions, I confess frankly-you know I hate flummery-that I had rather have your room than your When my time's come, I can die without the assistance of company. a doctor." my "Very likely; but the question is, can you live without it ?" Why not? I am sixty-three, and never consulted a physician in all life." 66 Perhaps you were never ill before ?" "Never! and I'm not exactly ill now, only completely out of sorts, as most men are at this precise time of life-weak and languid, and all that sort of thing-seedy, as my son George calls it; and so I promised Sarah that I would lie abed to-day, just to see whether it would recruit me a bit." Sept.-VOL. LXXXVII. NO. CCCXLV. B be "Your daughter gave you very good advice; and perhaps I may able to do the same, if you will tell me the exact nature of your ailment, which you can hardly refuse, now that you have confessed yourself to be completely out of sorts, and that I have come so far on purpose to see you.' "I have already told you my complaint; I am sixty-three-my grand climacteric, you know: nine times seven; both of them unlucky numbers. No one escapes altogether at this confounded period. George wrote me on my last birthday that a most dangerous time was coming, and that I must expect to be confoundedly seedy for some months; but that there was no kind of use in seeing a doctor, as the indisposition was natural and inevitable." 66 "I thought all belief in the 'critical year' had been long since abandoned, except by the old women who disguise themselves as old men. Your son is young enough to know better. Be assured, my good friend, that your sickness has no reference whatever to this peculiar year of your life. Cannot you assign any other cause for this sudden change in a constitution which has hitherto been so healthy ?" "Well, I don't know. I have certainly had a good deal of worry and anxiety lately." "Yet few men have been so prosperous. The world gives you credit for having made an immense fortune by your contracts with government." "The world says true; but wealth, I find, cannot always buy health, and still less happiness. I tell you what, Doctor,-when a fellow has everything to fear and nothing to hope, he will sometimes look back with regret to the careless days when he had everything to hope and nothing to fear." "Thank Heaven, I am in the former predicament, and trust always to remain so. 66 Nay, Doctor, you may get rich when you get old, as I have done.” "In other words, I may scrape up money when I am too old to enjoy it, and cannot long retain it. I hope the blind goddess will spare me all such cruel kindness." "Fate has spared you one calamity-you have no children. I have only two; but, oh! my dear Linnel! words cannot tell you how much disappointment, misery, and vexation, they have latterly occasioned me. If there is one man I hate more than another, it is Godfrey Thorpe, of Oakfield Hall, and not without many and good reasons, exclusively of his being a pompous, supercilious blockhead, as proud as Lucifer and as poor as Job. First, he procured me to be blackballed at the County Club, insolently declaring that he could not associate with a ci-devant maltster. Secondly, his interest with the commissary-general, and certain charges of malpractices on my part-for I'm sure the slanders came from him-prevented my getting the great contract for supplying the cavalry with provender. Thirdly, he ousted me from the borough which I had represented for five years, actually beating me with my own money, for I had just lent him an additional eight thousand pounds on the Oakfield estate, which is now mortgaged to its full value. However, there is one comfort; if he goes on much longer with his hounds and horses, and his grand establishment, I hope, one of these fine days, to foreclose, and oust him from his boasted old Hall, just as he turned me out of my borough." 66 Provoking enough, I confess; but what has all this to do with the annoyance you have suffered from your children ?" "Listen, and you shall hear. Thorpe has an only daughter, not unattractive in person, but an artful, sly minx, who, being probably well aware of her father's desperate circumstances, and knowing that my son was likely to be one of the richest fellows in the county, set her cap at him so successfully, that the silly gull became perfectly infatuated with her, and actually made her an offer of his hand, which was, of course, instantly accepted. That George should be easily ensnared, and be ready to throw himself away for a pretty plaything, does not surprise me, for he has ever been a spoilt child, accustomed from boyhood to have his own way, and confirmed by long indulgence in waywardness and obstinacy; but guess my shame and wrath when he told me, with an air of satisfaction, that the proud old insolvent had given his consent to the marriage solely on condition that his daughter's husband should take the name of Thorpe! What unparalleled insolence! How could hehow could my son-how could any man dream that, after toiling and moiling for years to build up a fortune, and found a family that might perpetuate my name, I should consent to see that name swamped, and my hard-earned wealth sacrificed, to continue the race, and clear the encumbered estates of a man whom I hated? I dismissed my mean-spirited son with an indignant prohibition of the marriage; and I have since. added a codicil to my will, bequeathing my property to the County Hospital, should he ever espouse Julia Thorpe. There is some little comfort in that reflection; but I leave you to imagine how deeply, how cruelly my heart has been lacerated, by this disappointment of all my fondest and most cherished hopes." CHAPTER II. "IT must be confessed that your son, knowing your antipathy to Mr. Thorpe, did not make a very discreet selection; but Wordsworth tells us that The child's the father of the man, and you ought not, therefore, to expect that spoilt boys should grow up to be dutiful sons." At "Ay, there you go, Doctor, girding at me with your stereotyped smile and soft voice, as if you were flattering instead of condemning me. all events, I never spoiled Sarah; indeed, people used to say that, in my blind partiality for George, I neglected his sister, and yet, by a singular coincidence, as if I were doomed to be equally tormented by both my children, she has committed a not less egregious act of folly, and has thwarted my wishes in a still more offensive and more unfilial manner. Not only has she refused an offer from Frank Rashleigh, the man upon whom I had set my heart as a son-in-law, because he is sure of being Earl of Downport, but she has confessed her attachment to Mr. Mason, the curate, a poor creature with a miserable 1007. a-year." "But having so rich a father, she does not, I presume, think it necessary that her husband should be rich." "But I do; or that he should have rank to make atonement for his poverty." "What are her objections to the man you had chosen ?" "She says he is a fool and a profligate, with which I have nothing to do. I don't require my son-in-law to be a wise man or a moral one, but I want to see my daughter a countess. As to the curate, she has promised never to marry him without my consent, which she will never get in my life; and after my death my will has effectually forbidden the banns, for the 1000l. a-year I have left her is to be reduced to 2007. if ever she becomes Mrs. Mason.-Well now, Doctor, if you deny that the climacterical year has anything to do with my indisposition, will you not admit that I have had worry, and vexation, and disappointment enough to disorder any man's health?" "I always like my patient to give me his own impressions as to the cause of his malady; but before I tell you mine, you must detail the symptoms. You have a deranged, intermitting pulse, but you are not deficient in strength, for you have maintained this long conversation without any apparent exhaustion." "That's purely accidental, for sometimes I am suddenly seized with distressing tremor of the heart, giddiness in the head, noise in the ears, flashing of the eyes, which continue till I become insensible, and remain so for a considerable time, just as if I were dead. Upon one occasion I remained three hours in this state, and when I recovered consciousness, another hour elapsed before I could speak. A week ago, after great languor of body and mind, I was suddenly deprived of all voluntary motion, my limbs being as rigid as if I were a statue; and while suffering these attacks, several blotches have appeared upon my body, an ailment to which I never have been previously subject. There, Doctor, you have heard my symptoms; now, tell me, what's the matter with me ?" "These are diagnostics of syncope, paralysis, and catalepsy, but presented in so complicated and unusual a form that I cannot exactly specify the nature of your malady. Two things I will frankly tell you -I don't like these paroxysms, which are of a very ugly type; and I do not believe that they have been superinduced by mental anxiety, however poignant. Before we can suggest a remedy for your disordered state, we must try to discover the cause, which may, perhaps, be traced to some recent intemperance-some excess either in eating or drinking; or, at all events, to some deviation from your customary diet." "A bad guess, Doctor, for in no single respect have I altered my usual mode of living, except in taking two or three doses a-day of Raby's Restorative." "What the deuce is that ?" 66 Why, my son George, as I told you, is a firm believer in the great danger of the climacterical year, and having heard that this medicine is a sure and wonderful restorer of the vital energies in old men, very kindly sent me up a large supply from Newmarket, where the patentee resides; and when I complain of getting worse, he is constantly urging me to increase the dose as the only remedy." "Telling you, at the same time, that there was no use in sending for a |