own horse waiting for him, and grazing | looked in the moonlight, so pale, and kindly where the grass was cold.

pure, and perfect, and at the same time so intensely feminine and helpless !

"Let me fall," she murmured; "what does it matter, with no one in the world to care for me? Hilary, let me fall, I implore you."

"That would be nice gratitude to the one who nursed me, and saved my life. Senhorita, sit down, I pray you. Allow me to hold you. You are in great danger."

The shadow of the old keep and the ivy-mantled buttress fell along the roadway of the bridge, and lay in scollops there. Beyond it, every stone was clear (of facing or of parapet), and the age of each could be guessed almost, and its story and its character. Even a beetle or an earwig must have had his doings traced if an enemy were after him. But under the eaves of the lamp of night, and within all the marge of the glittering, "Oh no, oh no!" she answered faintthere lay such darkness as never lies in ly; as he was obliged to support her the world where the moon is less bril- exquisite, but alas! too sensitive figure. liant. Hilary stood in the broad light"Oh, I must not be embraced. Oh, Hilwaiting; and out of the shadow came ary, how can you do such a thing to Claudia.

"I doubted whether you would even do me the honour to meet me here," she said. "Oh, Hilary, how you are changed to me !"

"I have changed in no way, senhorita ; except that I know when I am loved."

me?

"How can I help doing it, you mean? How very beautiful you are, Claudia!" "What is the use of it? Alas! what is the use of it, if I am? When the only one in all the world

"Ah! There I heard that noise again. It is impossible that it can be the water, -and I see horses, and the flash of

“And you do not know then you do not know it does not become me to say it, perhaps. Your ways are so differ-arms." ent from ours, that you would despise me if I told it all. I will not weep. No, I will not weep."

With violent self-control, she raised her magnificent eyes to prove her words; but the effort was too much for her. The great tears came, and glistened in the brilliance of the moonlight; but she would not show them, only turned away, and wished that nobody in the world should know the power of her emotions. "Come, come!" said Hilary (for an Englishman always says "come, come," when he is taken aback), "you cannot mean half of this, of course. Come, Claudia; what can have made you take such a turn? You never used to do it!" "Ah, I may have been fickle in the - absence days gone by. But absenceis the power that proves "Hark! I hear a sound down the river! Horses' feet, and wheels, and clashing

"No; it is only the dashing of the water. I know it well. That is why this bridge is called the bridge of echoes.' The water makes all sorts of sounds. Look here; and I will show you."

She took his hand, as she spoke, and led him away from the parapet facing the ford to the one on the upper side of the bridge, when suddenly such a faintness seized her, that she was obliged to cling to him, as she hung over the low and crumbling wall. And how lovely she

66

Oh, do not leave me! I shall fall into the torrent. For the sake of all the saints, stay one moment! How can I be found here? What infamy!· at least, at least, swear one thing."

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But I must be

Fifty, if you please. gone. I may be ruined in a moment." "And so may I. In the name of the Saviour, swear not to tell that I met you here. My father would kill me. You cannot even dream

"I swear that no power on earth shall induce me to say a word about this scene."

“Oh, I faint, I faint! Lay me there in the shadow. No one will see me. It is the last time. Oh, how cruel, how cold, how false! how bitterly cruel you are to me! ""

"Is it true," he whispered tremulously, for he was in great excitement and hurry, and he heard the Spanish trumpets sound as he carried her towards the shadow of the keep, and there for an instant leaned over her; "is it true that you love even me, Claudia ?”

With my whole, whole" and he thought that she glanced at the corner timidly; "oh, do not go, for one ment, darling! — with atom of my

poor

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mo

Heart," she was going to say, no doubt, but was spared the trouble; for down fell Hilary, stunned by a crashing blow from the dark corner; and in a

must

shall

"You will promise me not to hurt him," she whispered through his beard, as he clasped her warmly; while Hilary lay at their feet, still senseless.

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"By all the saints that ever were, or will be, multiplied into all the angels ! One kiss more, and then adieu, if it must be."

"Neither that nor anything else he know," muttered the brigand, with a The active young Claudia glided away; furious grasp, till poor Hilary's blue eyes while the great brigadier proceeded, with started forth from their sockets. 66 You his usual composure, to arrange things to did it too well, my fair actress; so warm-his liking. He lifted poor Hilary, as if ly, indeed, that I am quite jealous. The he were a doll, and bound him completely bottom of the Zujar is his marriage- with broad leather straps, which he couch."

"Loosen his throat, or I scream with all my power. You promised me not to hurt him. He shall not be hurt more than we can help, although he has been so faithless to me."

buckled to their very tightest; and then he fixed over his mouth a scarf of the delicate wool of the mountains; and then he laid him in the shade; for he really was a most honourable man when honour came into bearing. And though (as far "Ha, ha!" laughed the great briga-as his own feelings went) he would gladly dier; "there is no understanding the have pitched this Captain Lorraine into delicate views of the females. But you the rush of the Zujar, he had pledged his shall be obeyed, beloved one. He will honour to Claudia. Therefore he only come to himself in about ten minutes; these Englishmen have such a thickness of head. Search him; be quick; let me have his despatch-book. You know where your lovers keep their things."

gagged and bound him, and laid him out of the moonlight; which, at the time of year, might have maddened him. After this, Don Alcides d'Alcar struck flint upon punk, and lit a long cigar.

Senseless though Hilary lay, the fair The whole of that country is full of maiden kept herself out of the range of fleas. The natives may say what they his eyes, as her nimble fingers probed like; but they only damage their credit him. In a moment she drew from an in- by denying it, or prove to a charitable ner breast-pocket his private despatch-mind their own insensibility. The older book, and Mabel's letter. That last she the deposit or the stratum is, the greater stowed away for her own revenge, after is the number of these active insects: and glancing with great contempt at it; but this old bridge, whether Moorish or the book she spread open to her lover. Gothic, or even Roman (as some contended), had an antiquarian stock of them.

"It is noble !" he cried, as the brilliant moonlight shone upon the pages. "What could be more fortunate? Here are the blank forms with the heading, and the flourish prepared for his signature. There is his metal pencil. Now write as I tell you in Spanish, but with one or two little barbarisms; such as you know him given to. The detachment is here. I am holding them back. They are not to cross the water. Send the two carts through; but do not come yourselves. Good-night, and many thanks to you. May we soon meet again. (Signed) Hilary Lorraine.' You know how very polite he is."

"It is written, and in his own hand, most clearly. He has been my pupil, and I have been his. Poor youth, I am very sorry for him. Now let me go. Have I contented you?"

"I will tell you at the chapel to-morrow night. I shall have the cleverest and most beautiful bride in all Iberia. How can I part with you till then ?”

Therefore poor Hilary, coming to himself- as he was bound to do by-and-by

grew very uneasy, but obtained no relief, through the natural solace of scratching. He was strapped so tightly that he could only roll; and if he should be induced to roll a little injudiciously, through a gap of the parapet he must go to the bottom of the lashing water. Considering these things, he lay and listened; and though he heard many things which he disliked (and which bore a ruinous meaning to him for the rest of his young life, and all who loved him), he called his high courage to his help; and being unable to talk to himself (from the thickness of the wool between his teeth, which was a most dreadful denial to him), he thought in his inner parts -"Now, if I die, there will be no harm to say of me." He laid this to his conscience, and in contempt of all insects he rolled off to sleep.

The uncontrollable outbreak of day, in

the land where the sun is paramount, came like a cataract over the mountains, and scattered all darkness with leaps of light. The winding valley, and the wooded slope, the white track of water, and the sombre cliffs, all sprang out of their vaporous mantle; and even the bridge of echoes looked a cheerful place to lounge

on.

"A bad job surely!" said Corporal Nickles, marching with his footsteps counted, as if he were a pedometer. "Bones, us haven't searched this here ramshackle thing of a Spanish bridge. Wherever young cap'en can be, the Lord knows. At the bottom of the river, I dessay."

From Blackwood's Magazine. INTERNATIONAL VANITIES.

NO. VIII. GLORY.

As Irish postboys used, in former times, to "keep a trot for the avenue," so, on the same principle of reserving a flourish for the finish, has glory been held back for the final chapter of this series. In its military form it is so immeasurably the vastest of all the vanities of nations, that the temptation to talk about it sooner has of course been great; we have resisted, but need resist no longer; we can now indulge our pent-up longings, as children at last consume the central jam of tarts whose circumferential crust they have first devoured.

"Better if he never was born," replied Bones; "or leastwise now to be a dead Glory! The name resounds like a one. Fifty thousand guineas in a sweep! surging sea. It dazzles us with a blaze of All cometh of trusting them beggarly splendid meaning. It is the end and obDons. Corporal, what did I say to you?"ject of all the triumphs that human power "Like a horacle, you had foreseen it, sergeant. But, we'm all right, howsomever it be. In our favour we has the ballerby."

can achieve. It has been fiercely fought for by nations and by men ; it has been pursued throughout all time; it has been sought more passionately than even love Hilary, waking, heard all this, and he or money. And it tempts not only actors, managed to sputter so through the wool, but lookers-on as well, for it corresponds that the faithful non-commissioned offi- to an imperious necessity which acts on cers ran to look for a wild sheep cough- every one of us; it satisfies that irresisting. ible disposition to be sometimes enthusi"Is it all gone?" he asked pretty calm-astic about something- no matter what ly, when they had cut him free at last, but he could not stand from stiffness. "Do you mean to say that the whole is gone?"

Captain," said Bones, with a solemn salute, which Nickles repeated as junior, "every guinea are gone, as clean as a whistle; and the Lord knows where 'em be gone to."

"Yes, your Honour, every blessed guinea;" said Nickles, in confirmation. "To my mind it goes against the will of the Lord to have such a damned lot of money."

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"You are a philosopher," answered Lorraine ; it is pleasing to find such a view of the case. But as for me, I am a ruined man. No captain, nor even 'your Honour,' any more."

"Your Honour must keep your spirits up. It mayn't be so bad as your Honour thinks," they answered very kindly, well knowing that he was a ruined man, but saluting him all the more for it.

which is at the bottom of all natures however ponderously placid they may be. The world is of a single mind upon the subject; and, on the whole, the world is right to be unanimously convinced, for glory has been so singularly useful to its progress, that we may reasonably doubt whether we could possibly have arrived at our present state without it. Its rarity, and the extreme difficulty of attaining it, have so largely added to its value, that no reward on earth can be compared to it. Most other prizes may be competed for by any man who has ambition, strength, and intellect: wealth, rank, and power may be won singlehanded, by personal capacity; but glory, unlike those easier summits, cannot be climbed alone; no solitary traveller can reach its brilliant heights. The reason is, that while each of us can fight our way alone. on the one condition of being strong enough to every other success in life, no man can seize glory for himself. Glory is not a diadem which any aspirant, whatever be his force of arm or will, can lift unassisted on to his own head; it must be placed there by applauding nations, and the whole earth must ratify the crowning. And if individual claimants

can acquire it only by the acclamations we can approach only on our knees, with

of mankind, so, inversely, nations are dependent for it on the actions of their citizens. It is as essentially a joint product of men and states as a baby is of its two parents; neither of them can create it without the other's aid. It must be earned by them collectively, and be bestowed by them reciprocally; its sources and its nature are, consequently, identical in each of its two forms, personal and national; it is only in its consequences and its applications that differences arise. This unity of its elements facilitates its study, but still it is so huge a subject that the attempt to discuss it here is like trying to put the Mediterranean into the dip of Piccadilly. We can, however, imitate the voyagers who offer to their friends at home a phial full of sample water from the Bay of Naples, and assure them that "all the rest of it is just like this."

much trembling and emotion, but as a constitutional sovereign who does not pretend to be above the range of respectful criticism. For this reason we may, without temerity, answer the above question in the negative. And now, after this expression of duteous and becoming principles, we can go on in safety.

A nation's glory is a complex product; it is composed of many elements; all sorts of national successes contribute to it; nothing great or noble is excluded from it; everything that has been brilliant in the nation's history assumes a place in it; it knows no limits of time or distance; it unites the present and the past; it includes both memories and realities. The halo of old victories, of bygone merits, of ancient pride, may suffice alone to keep it up in vigorous existence, even though there be no sort of actual foundation to base it on the situation But before beginning to exhibit the lit- of France just now supplies evidence of tle specimen for which there is space this; her glory is still bright and real, here, it will perhaps be useful to put a but no one will pretend that it is a prodpreliminary question. Are we obliged, uct of to-day. Or it may be a gleaning in talking about glory, to make up our of the passing moment, a fresh instant minds beforehand that it is our duty to growth, with no background of recollecremain incessantly awe-stricken before tions, with no associations, with no home it? Are we of necessity bound to speak to rest in; such was the glory of the of it as we should of some illustrious Southern States during the Secession princess whose faults are all forgotten in war. Glory may be strengthened, or the contemplation of her dignity and her even be suddenly originated, by causes greatness? Obligations of that descrip- of a totally new kind, which, previously, tion are particularly inconvenient; they had never aided to produce it; it is, strangle free discussion; they suffocate however, necessary to add, that this is the pleasant smiles which are frequently true of modern action only, and that ansuch useful aids to the digestion of ideas cient notions about the origin of fame as well as dinners. Besides which, we were most exclusive and unelastic. In do of course intend to be most deferen- these days we have grown less difficult; tial no decent Englishman could possi- but though we take our glory now wherbly be impolite to glory; and, further-ever we can lay hands on it, it has sufmore, it is too high up above us to be fered no loss of prestige, no lessening of accessible to our rudeness if we tried it. its royalty, from the tendency to popuHowever much we may incline towards larize and multiply its sources. And, to independence, we shall never fall to the all its elements, whether old or new, a condition described by Tacitus when he nation adds, as has been already said, said that "to despise glory is to despise the individual glories of her children the virtues which lead to it." That state she takes them proudly as her own, and of mind is outside the possibilities of our joins them to the common stock as the generation; and though we must sup- property of all. Was not the glory of pose that it existed in the year 100 (for, Cocles, of Fabius Maximus, of Cincinnaotherwise, Tacitus could have had no tus, the glory of Rome itself? Does not object in alluding to it), we are too well the memory of Thermopyle and of Marbrought up now to be capable of despis-athon belong almost more to Greece than ing anything so eminently respectable to Leonidas and Miltiades? And, in our and grand. But, at the same time, the own small modern way, do we not, each influence of our political education makes one of us, claim ardently for England the us naturally wish to retain full freedom fame of Newton and of Shakespeare, of for our homage, and to be able to treat Marlborough, Wellington, and Nelson: glory, not as an Eastern autocrat whom' The rewards which great citizens receive

from a grateful country go down to their it rests as solid as the bottom of the sea, descendants as a material testimony of uninfluenced by the motion of the waves their deeds but their glory is no heir- of time. It has always been a fruit of loom in their family; it becomes the her-"virtue," in the great universal meaning itage of their land; it remains associat- of the word; it is so still the one difed, ideally, with their name, but the State ference between past and present being, alone makes profit of the power which that "virtue" is now more varied and that glory has created. abundant, in consequence of the extenAnd yet this glory, universal and all- sion of the power and knowledge of including, wide, lofty, and effulgent, as it which men dispose. Glory, as Seneca is, has no proper innate life; it can do observed, "follows virtue like its shadnothing for itself; it has no existence ow;" it is a public admiration founded without history. Homer invented glory on brilliant deeds, on great intellectual for Hector and Achilles, whose names results, or on vast public services; it is we should have never heard if there had reserved exclusively for those who work been no Iliad; such people as Herodotus for the public good. Montaigue says it and Livy gave fame to Greece and Rome; is "the world's appreciation of great acand the glories of to-day are made ready tions; "Voltaire adds that "it presupfor our use by special correspondents. It poses grave obstacles surmounted; La is most unpleasant to have to own that Fontaine supports this last opinion by merit, however huge, has never obtained asserting that "aucun chemin de fleurs renown unless publicity has been good ne conduit à la gloire;" and Corneille enough to grant it aid; that throughout confirms it in his famous line“ A the centuries which stretch backwards vaincre sans péril, on triomphe sans from the "Daily Telegraph" to Thucyd-gloire." It is, therefore, an illustriousides, heroes have been brought into re-ness attached to doings in which the pute by other people's poetry or prose; grandeur of the object is united to diffithat their own good swords have only served to sharpen the pens of their historians; that glory has always been, and continues still to be, impossible without advertising. The parallelism of conditions which is indicated by the last sentence between the "Retreat of the Ten Thousand" and Epps's cocoa between Charles the Twelfth and Dr. Morrison between Galileo and Messrs. Moses-is so obvious and striking, that it is difficult to comprehend how it has escaped

culty of execution; It is better than celebrity, and more than honour: celebrity may result from bad actions, good ones only can give honour; but glory cannot be acquired except by doing more and better than all the world." Still, like other splendours, glory contains degrees; it is not a race in which all the runners come in first. As happens generally with sovereignties, its thrones are of unequal height; its value varies with its motives and its attendant circumstan

the notice of modern critics. It is to be ces: it cannot reach its fullest lustre unhoped that they will now give serious less, to quote Seneca again, its sole obattention to it, for it contains perhaps,ject is the useful, the honest, and the significant suggestions and hidden mean- just. Greece fighting for its freedom ings, which may throw a totally new light was more glorious than conquering on historical research.

Rome; the glory of the great Alexander And yet, though glory depends on his- was feebler than that of Hercules, for tory as thoroughly as sailing ships depend Alexander sought for personal satisfacon wind, its dependence has never in any tions, while Hercules was the protector of way affected its nature or career. The suffering humanity, the Don Quixote of means by which it is attained have in-mythology. Brutus was superbly gloricreased and multiplied; its sources have ous when he condemned his son, but Virbecome various and conflicting; but the ginius was not glorious when he killed effects which it produces have remained his daughter — the latter acted for the unvaried since it was invented. History, honour of his family, the former for his with its thousand tongues history, country's good: Virginius was a good fa"the experience of nations," has been ther and an honest man, but Brutus was able to add nothing to the qualities and re- a grand citizen. And a hundred other sults of glory since it first burst out before similar comparisons might be made bethe walls of Troy. Through thirty centu- tween the sorts, the shades, the looks of ries it has endured unchanged; it is, prob-glory; each country supplies examples, ably, unchangeable; at each new birth it each age affords us types, of the varying reproduces the same unvarying features; 'intensities of renown. It is quite true