his wife-the loss might continue, but the trouble might depart. Then, again, the gout kept giving him such severe twinges, that he hardly knew what he was thinking about; and though his wife did not know of his possessing this mysterious book, yet such was her penetration, that it was possible she might find it out; and if, after having written in it such a wicked wish as that which he now meditated, his wife should see, and should get possession of the book, what could he say for himself? But the gout was very troublesome, and he was so distracted with pain, that he could not think of any other way to get rid of it than to undergo the loss of the best of all possible wives. Being quite alone, and just suffering under one of the most villanous twinges that his complaint had yet given him, in a fit of desperation he drew from his bosom the awful book, and wrote therein the trouble which he fain would substitute for the gout. He was frightened out of his wits while he was doing it, for fear his wife might come into the apartment, and catch him at it. His hand trembled like an aspen leaf, and he wrote it so badly that he was afraid the spirit which watched over the book might not be able to read it. But he presently found that there was no mistake; his gout was gone, his foot was in a rapture of ease, and without thinking of the condition on which he had purchased this relief, he sprang from his couch and danced about with mad delight. His wife at that moment entered the room, and so glad was she to see this pleasant and sudden change, that the emotion quite overcame her, she went into a fit on the instant, and died with joy.

“The happiest death in the world!” cried Hophara. But, alas! in a few moments came reflection, and with

C

This made him

it the deepest grief-he raved and tore his hair, and would have torn his garments, only he was afraid of betraying the book which he kept concealed in his bosom. He called in the aid of all the most skilful physicians in Memphis, and when they came they all said that they could do nothing-he knew that before they came. He would fain recal her to life by means of his wonderful book; only he was not quite certain that he could; and even if he could, what would she say to him, when she should come to life again, and know all the particulars, as she certainly must. pause, and he knew not what to do. He fairly wished the book at the bottom of the Red Sea. So impatient was he to get rid of the book, that without waiting for his wife's funeral he set off as fast as his legs could carry him to the cave where the old man dwelt. And all the people of Memphis, when they saw with what irreverent haste he ran, thought that he was crazy, and so indeed he was; but though the people stared at him, and pointed at him, and though some rude and idle boys in the street called and shouted after him, still he ran as one possessed. The day was intensely hot, the sun was shining with cloudless splendour, yet he ran, and he ran, and he ran all across the shelterless sands, till he came to the cave whence he had received that pernicious book which had robbed him of half his wealth, and of a beloved wife, and which had afflicted him with the toothach, the earach, and the gout. Coming out of the light, the cave was to him so intensely dark that he could see nothing, but he went on, and on, fully resolved not to turn back till he should find the old man, or, if he could not find him, to perish in the cave. He walked a long while in total darkness, and began to be in great

alarm, and to wish that he had never wished to get rid of his troubles. At length he saw a glimmmer of light: he knew the lamp; he hastened towards it, and there he saw the old man sitting with a book in his hand, reading by lamp-light as quietly as if nothing had happened. At sight of the person who had caused him so much trouble, sitting and reading with such exquisite composure, Hophara could with difficulty refrain from behaving rudely, being scarcely able so far to govern his temper as to abstain from throwing the book at the old man's head. Just in the same fashion as at the first visit which Hophara had paid to the cave, the venerable man lifted up his face from the book that he was reading, and looked mildly and placidly at the Egyptian, saying"Man of Memphis, are thy troubles fewer and more tolerable than heretofore?"

Now Hophara was by no means in a humour to stand a jest, and of all things in the world there was nothing that he so disliked as being bantered; but as he was in a cave with one who was undoubtedly a magician, to say the least of it, he was forced to put up, as well as he could, with what he met with. He was, however, by no means at his ease, and he rather abruptly replied—“ I can't say that they are."

"Are you tired of the book?" said the old man. "Very," said Hophara.

"And you are willing to restore it to me?" said the old man.

"That I am," answered Hophara, and forthwith he thrust it into the old man's hand as eagerly as he had formerly taken it from him, and turned his back upon the magician without once having the civility to say "Thank you for the use of it."

But no sooner had he turned to hasten out of the cave, than he felt a violent tugging at his cloak; and fearing that the old man was pulling him back to force upon his acceptance some other book more troublesome than the last, he screamed out with all his might and main; thereat the darkness of the cave vanished, and a bright light broke in upon him, together with scenes and persons that he little expected to see. He found himself in his own house, with the sun shining full in his face, and his wife and daughter standing by his side, the latter of whom had just dragged from beneath his side a large book which he had been reading, and over which he had fallen asleep, but they had thought it necessary to wake him because dinner was ready. In the first confusion of his waking he thought much of his dream, particularly of the last part, and he asked very particularly if he had been talking in his sleep, and when his wife informed him that he had not, he felt very much relieved. He fully determined never to go to sleep over a book again; he acknowledged however that he had learned more from the outside of a book when he was asleep, than ever he had from the inside of one when he was awake. After this he was happier, though not less fortunate, than he had ever been before.

THE RIGHT HON. LADY MARY VYNER.

LADY MARY VYNER, is wife of Captain Henry Vyner, and daughter of the present Earl de Grey.

The house of Grey is one of the most ancient in the realm. EDMUND GREY, fourth Lord Grey of Ruthyn, having espoused the cause of the Yorkists, after the battle of Northampton, obtained from Edward IV. the estate of Ampthill, in the county of Bedford, which had belonged to the Lord Fanhope, and was subsequently appointed Lord Treasurer of England. The Earl wedded the Lady Katherine Percy, daughter of Henry Earl of Northumberland, and had, with other issue, an eldest son,

GEORGE GREY, fifth Baron Grey de Ruthyn, and second Earl of Kent. His Lordship married first, Anne, daughter of Richard Widville Earl of Rivers, and