daughter wants the same charm of manner; but she is a magnificent creature. The difference between the two is the difference between a rose and a star. You will say that I am impressed, but I can assure you that I am not. Were I so I should not be able to draw distinctions of the kind. My goddess is elsewhere, and heaven knows if I shall ever see her again. She was a stranger to me, and I lost all trace of her in England, and nothing but a report I heard that she was coming out to India brought me here: otherwise I should have got fresh leave or thrown up the service. But I will not trouble you about myself. I thought you would like to know the state of your brother's susceptibilities; and the droll part of the affair is that he and Milward were devoting themselves to the same lady-the younger one. Madame, however, seemed quite content. She had many admirers, but would have nothing to do with any of them, and made no acquaintances with men except married men, and who were not only married but had their wives on board. So the running was all between Sir Norman and Milward for the girl, and a very amusing race it was. How the girl I could have hesitated between the two I cannot imagine; for apart from the difference of rank, which usually goes a long way with women, Sir Norman, one would think, would outweigh a dozen Milwards, though he is not of course quite so young a man. The fact is, the girl is a desperate coquette, and evidently liked the fun of having two men on hand at the same time; and she would have had half a dozen unless I much mistake, but that the two were sufficient to keep everybody else off. It was amusing to see how the fortunes of the two varied. Between Malta and Alexandria, when we had lovely weather, and there was dancing on deck and all sorts of diversions, Milward seemed to have it all his own way, and the two men grew so cool that I thought every day they would warm into a quarrel. They all stayed at the same hotel in Alexandria, and there -or between Alexandria and Cairo

a change seems to have come over the spirit of their dream. For at Cairo Milward seemed cast off, and had only Mrs. Beltravers to keep him in countenance; and he did not even form one of a party to the Pyramids, where Sir Norman had the two ladies all to himself. I saw nothing more of them until we arrived at Suez, where the steamer was awaiting us, and by that time your brother's star seemed descending. It was Milward who paid her all the petits soins, while Sir Norman was condemned to the great soins, such as looking after her baggage. One could scarcely picture a more unhappy man than Sir Norman seemed all through the Red Sea. At Point de Galle I think there was some kind of explanation, and a remonstrance on the part of Mamma; for that lady was very cold to her daughter on the way to Madras, and Miss Beltravers walked a great deal upon deck with Sir Norman, though I thought the terms they were on seemed rather subdued. What they did at Madras I don't know; but they all went on shore together, and waited there until the steamer proceeded on its way. The whole party seemed subdued during the rest of the voyage, and it would be difficult to say how matters stood.

'Here in Calcutta they are separated. Sir Norman is at Spence's, and Milward is at Wilson's, where I also am staying; but I have seen very little of him, and am not very anxious to see more. The ladies are in a great house in the Chowunghee Road, which was furnished ready for their reception; for they have more money, it seems, than they know what to do with, and are not the kind of people to play the part of unprotected females at an hotel. This is all I know about their movements and proceedings, and I mention them because I can easily suppose that you are interested in your brother's objects. Otherwise, indeed, I should never have written you this lady-like letter, which I feel to be a reproach to my more manly nature.

'Central Asian affairs begin once more to occupy attention in India. The death of Dost Mahomed has

placed Affghanistan in a hopeless state of anarchy; and unless the British government interferes there is no hope of order. Whichever side we take will be successful; but the G. G. dares not take one side or the other, he is afraid of Parliament and that awful monster public opinion, at home. The ministry is too weak to insist upon a policy, so matters drift; and in the meantime Russia is not idle.' *** [We suppress Mr. Windermere's views upon the policy of England in Central Asia, as likely to bore the reader.]

'I hope you will come on by next mail. We shall have a splendid cold season apparently; and "the Court" is expected here from Simla

From Captain Cecil Halidame -th Hussars, Malta, to Charles Windermere, Esq., Bengal Civil Service, Calcutta.

'MY DEAR WINDERMERE,

'I expect a letter from you according to promise. Meanwhile I am infernally bored at having to remain here until next mail. But as I told you, I was obliged to stay on account of what they call in the service "urgent private affairs." I am very anxious about several matters-including money matters of course; but I am sure, like a good fellow you will not let my obligation to you add to my bores just now.'*** [Here follows a

little business communication which we suppress.] Our friends of the 110th are as pleasant as ever in their way; but I have not much patience with their juvenile jokes, and Revel and his friend Highover are a little too obstreperous. They had a great night of it yesterday at the mess-where, by the way, I won some money-and Highover, accompanied most unnecessarily by Revel, did not return until the morning, when they took their passage across the harbour in the boat which came for the rations. When they arrived there was a lively business with the commissariat people, and the beef

got thrown about the streets to the confusion of the early Maltese. On the way I thought the boat would have been overturned again and again, and the Irish doctor was always calling out that there would be a casualty. So you see I was with them-though it was not my fault. Revel's last exploit is getting a number of blank invitation cards, which he found on the counter at Muir's, just ordered by the Bishop of Gibraltar, who is here at present, and filling them up with the names of about twenty of the most disreputable people in the island, who all, I suppose, fancy themselves asked to dinner at the Bishop's next week. How the business will end I can't say; but Revel ought to know better. Fortunately I shall be off by the mail just beforehandotherwise, in the event of the hoax being traced, I might get implicated; and I have too many bores of my own to bear with patience any annoyances for other people.

'If you meet in Calcutta a Native Baboo-Ramchunder Nellore -I should be much obliged if you would be civil to him. He is a decent fellow, and has been of use to me. I know you like to cultivate the natives, or I would not ask you to interest yourself about him.

'The siroc is blowing here awfully, and I have scarcely strength to say that I am

Yours very sincerely,

CHARLES WINDERMERE'

From Captain Cecil Halidame, Malta, to Baboo Ramchunder Nellore, Calcutta.

'DEAR BABOO,

'He-I need not mention names-will have arrived in Calcutta before you receive this. I have done with him, and you have my full permission to do him as much injury as you can. He is with a certain lady-I will not mention names-who must never be his. She cannot marry him legally; but if there seems any attachment between them, tell the old story.

Faithfully yours,

CECIL HALIDAME.'

THERE will soon arise on the

THE

northern side of Fleet Street, adjacent to well-loved Temple Bar, a sumptuous palace of justice which will render the Westminster Courts a thing of the past. It is not indeed quite the kind of structure which we should like to see-for our part we should desire to see realized such magnificent plans as Mr. Street exhibits at the Academy this year for a Palace of Justice fronting the Thames-but still typifying our English law in costliness, dignity, and use. A vast plan of changes in our judicature is shadowed forth in a Bill now before Parliament, which will probably become law in this or an early session, so that there will be a great reconstruction of the machinery of law as well as of the material fabric where the British Themis will be enshrined. It is hard to imagine the time when the Westminster Courts will be swept away, and a new terminology, at least in part, be applied to judges of courts where equity and common law will be fused at last. The present courts have no high claim to antiquity. Formerly they were held in Westminster Hall itself, screened off from each other by partitions. You see this, by the way, in this year's Exhibition, in Mr. E. W. Ward's fine picture of Judge Jeffreys and Richard Baxter. Through the open door of Westminster Hall the rascally judge is pointing out to the saintly criminal Titus Oates, in the pillory in Palace Yard, and threatens him with the same fate, whilst the pious Puritans clasp hands and almost wonder why the heavens do not fall. The courts were very conveniently removed to the further side of the 'Great Hall of William Rufus,' but soon they will be improved off the face of the earth, and the omnivorous Parliamentary legislature will be left in total possession of all the legal purlieus. Perhaps it will hereafter delight me to have remembered these

things,' I classically murmur to myself, as I idly determine to spend 'a morning at the Law Courts."

It is not a thing I often do. Outsiders can hardly afford time to haunt Westminster Hall more than once or twice a year. Yet as one of the most remarkable sights that London can show, as scenes abounding in dramatic interest, as a very decided means of intellectual culture, the proceedings of the Westminster Courts merit frequent and careful attention even from outsiders. I had been in the Temple one Sunday. The learned and honourable Society of the Temple are now always in great force on the sacred day. Not only have they a round church-perhaps the most interesting and precious example of the few round churches of Christendom - and magnificent music, but in Dr. Vaughan they have lately obtained one of the most deservedly popular of English preachers. On a Sunday the Temple is quite billowy with silks and muslins, and through the open windows of chambers you hear the soft silvery voices of ladies who have come to hear the music and the preacher, and are now restaurating in the rooms of cousinly and hospitable Templars. Pleasant it is to revive Mr. Thackeray's reminiscences of Pump Court, pleasant to revive one's Dickens' reminiscences by that musical, shadowed fountain; pleasant to stroll in the Temple gardens, and see how the prospering Embankment scheme will be converting a long range of mud and slime into beds of freshness and brightness; pleasant to stroll in the great hall, and observe the trial, the portraits, the reliques of the great Armada, the armorial bearings of the great men of the past, and obtain a glimpse of some of the great men of the present. And talking to some friendly barristers, I make an arrangement that I am to go with them to the Westminster

Courts, inasmuch as something more interesting than usual will be stirring on Monday morning.

On that day all the courts open at half-past ten, instead of at the usual hour of ten. Lord Penzance shows his good sense by taking a whole holiday on Monday, and declines to resume business till the Tuesday. Although some particular varieties of English life may be studied with great minuteness under his auspices, yet on the whole it is not unadvisable to escape crowded scenes, fraught perchance with some peril both to public and private morals. My learned friend has asked me to meet him at the upper robing room of the Queen's Bench. I accordingly proceed to the upper robing-room, where I behold great men taking off their coats and waistcoats, making themselves comfortable for the day, and adjusting their professional paraphernalia. A Q.C. looks much more dignified in wig and gown than he does in his shirt-sleeves and braces. I mingle freely in the legal scene, deposit my carriage, i.e., 'what I am carrying,' with the keeper of such parcels-which is the meaning of some texts puzzling to uninformed minds-hang up my overcoat, and view the scene through my natural wig of much wisdom. A considerate official, who up to this time evidently did not like to disturb me, now inquires whether I am a member of the bar, and being answered in the negative, politely ejects me to the landing, where I consort with some partially washed youths, apparently of the Hebrew persuasion. In due time 1 make my way into the Court of Queen's Bench. There is a mighty gathering of the long robes, perhaps a hundred of them. The flower of the English bar is here this morning. On the front row are the leaders of the common law bar, and you ascend from silk gowns to stuff; and you ascend through the varying rows of men with great business, little business, and no business at all, until you come to men who who have no wish to be anything but briefless, but don the toga on a field-day, when there is anything likely to amuse them,

and sit in the backmost seats of all. There is abundant chat and chaff going on, a general hubbub and loud laughing, until suddenly the great chief with the puisne judges enter. Then there is a sudden stillness, and the respectful salutation, and in return the chief performs two mighty reverences. So

in youthful days at school we youngsters have grinned and jabbered, until suddenly the head master appeared, with cap and gown and awful ferule, to whom we bowed in awe, and waited to see who would get the first flogging.

There are people to be flogged this morning, of course rather in a metaphysical than in a physical sense. The bribers are to come up and receive their sentences. These unfortunate people have transgressed against that lex non scriptu for which the lawyers and most other people have the deepest respect-Thou shalt not be found out.' They have been waiting through a long past of term for their sentences. But Lord Chief Justice Cockburn has been suffering from an attack of bronchitis, and solacing himself with the writing of a pamphlet, 'pitching in,' after the finest forensic fashion, into Lord Chancellor Hatherley for his Judicature Bill. The other judges refused to pass sentence in his absence. Probably, also, the chief will like to take leading part on an occasion which will have some political, and even some historical importance. No doubt the proceedings of this day will have a great effect in determining whether bribery shall be fashionable or shall be vulgarised in England. A man hardly liked to be pointed at in the House of Commons as a man who sat there simply by reason of bribery; but, beyond that, public opinion took a very lenient view, and thought men lucky who were rich enough to bribe. The Court of Queen's Bench has hitherto hardly had any opportunities of expressing its sentiments on the subject in a practical sort of way. I expect that bribery will now go out of fashion, just as duelling and drunkenness have gore out of fashion. The sen

But

tences were heavy, and the threats for the future were tremendous. But I am sure that hardly any one seemed to realize that these men had done anything very atrocious; so very slow is the growth of public opinion in stamping any moral brand on fashionable vice. These defendants were scapegoats for worse men who escaped; even Fennelly himself, on whom the judges passed a 'swinging' sentence of a year's imprisonment and a thousand pounds fine. But it was high time that British society, in its periodical fits of virtuous indignation, should select a victim in order to settle an abuse. Some judges appear to find a great deal of tranquil enjoyment in passing exemplary sentences upon their fellow-creatures. no judge, with the exception of one or two who may crop up in a half century, ever 'gloats' in passing sentence. A Quarter Sessions judge, indeed, once told me that he felt the greatest enjoyment in passing a heavy sentence of penal servitude. But he added that he was only glad that incorrigible rogues should be shut up for a long time from doing honest men mischief. The late well-known Judge Payne was considered unduly severe in his sentences. But this severity was simply the result of his theory of punishments; a difficult subject on which it is difficult to prove the soundness or unsoundness of any particular theory. Judge Payne, according to his lights, might be severe on the bench, but he was the very kindest, justest, most selfdenying, most warm-hearted of men; in his own particular range, one of the best-known figures in London, and of whom nearly every friend could tell some special story to his infinite honour. Let me be permitted to pay this passing tribute to one of my best and oldest personal friends. So far from relishing sentences, there is a kindhearted judge who suffers severely for weeks afterwards when he has had to pass a sentence of capital punishment. So strong has been the aversion of some judges to passing sentence of death, that now and then a serious miscarriage of justice has taken

place. I know the case of a bad murder, in which the villain's only hope was that he might have a good space between the sentence and its execution; but the anxious judge laid such great stress on every point which might arise in his favour, that the jury acquitted him, to the pleasing bewilderment of the culprit and his lawyers. The real points of criticism presented by judicial sentences are the great inequalities they present, in spite of the wellconsidered efforts of the judges to promote uniformity, and the fact that, as an ordinary rule, with the single exception of death for murder, offences against the person seem to be visited too lightly, and offences against property too heavily.

But I am anticipating. A memorable trial case like the present gives you a good opportunity for observing bench and bar. Mr. Justice Hannen commences proceedings by giving the full court a narrative of the trials at Bridgewater, and by reading the depositions. There is a touch of legal fiction here. I have no doubt but the court is fully acquainted with the facts, and has made up its mind as to the penalties. While he is reading an attendant brings him a glass of water to refresh himself, after the manner of Mr. Liddon at St. Paul's Cathedral. In the meantime Mr. Justice Blackburn is looking over his notes in a large note-book interleaved with blotting-paper, a sort of note-book that abounds in the courts. A pleasant, well-mannered, able, kindly man is Justice Hannen. He used to be Attorney-General's devil, help him to get up his cases, that is, which requires a good deal of law, and law of the best quality. He sits on the extreme left; Blackburn is the last judge on the right. A great magistrate is Mr. Justice Blackburn. He was almost an unknown man till he exchanged, somewhat suddenly, his stuff gown for ermine. It has been truly observed that if you put a man into a great office he must necessarily begin to swell. Sir Colin Blackburn palpably expanded. He is one of our soundest and most enlightened lawyers. From his first