"Ah! Mr. Softly," cried Fanny, entering the room, "so you are come to receive my praises and thanks for your admirable verses.' "But, Miss Duffield," I said, choking with indignation, "this is infamous!"

"What! good gracious what's the matter?" she cried, quite alarmed at my vehemence; "Are you ill?-shall I ring the bell?" "No, no, pray don't," I gasped out, getting calmer and nervous again; "but those horrible verses,-I didn't write such things I assure you."

And then I had to enter into a full explanation of what I had written, and what I had not written; and how that brute Martingale had finished them in his own vulgar style, and carried off the book. All which was very embarrassing, especially as it exposed my peculiar method of composing poetry and waiting for rhymes.

Fanny condoled with me, and asked me if I would take back the book and "write some more;" but this I declined, for verily I had had enough of versification. The only consolation that I derived from the affair, was the conviction that it would open the eyes of Fanny to the native coarseness of Mr. Martingale's character, and thus induce her to banish all prepossessing thoughts of him from her bosom.

In this hope I slept more calmly that night; and having now deliberately persuaded myself that I was deeply attached to Fanny Delafield, and that she was not insensible to my devotion, I resolved to prosecute my suit, declare my passion, and learn my fate. But the reader must not suppose that I did this in a dashing, bold, off-hand style; on the contrary, I only paid daily visits, made little presents of flowers or books, and now and then ventured on a tender speech, which I verily believe threw me into a far greater tremor when it was uttered, than the young lady to whom it was addressed. The strength of that girl's mind was astonishing. She never blushed-she never trembled she never betrayed the slightest signs of confusion at anything that was said to her, however ardent. She was very fond of roses, and one day I had brought her a superb one.

"Is it not lovely ?" she said. "Is not such a rose as this the most beautiful thing in creation?"

"No," I stuttered out, "not the most beautiful!" and I looked at her as hard as I dared.

"Do you mean it?" she said with emphasis, and looking me as steadily in the face as an Old Bailey counsel cross-examining a thief's

witness.

"Can you doubt it, Miss Duffield?" I whispered. Good heavens, how I trembled! I wonder whether there was an earthquake just at that moment, for I swear I thought that the earth shook under me. "May I believe it?" she said, half smiling, but quite calm.

'By Heaven-"

"Good gracious, don't swear, Mr. Softly," she interrupted quickly. I thought I should have dropped. Here was an end to my raptures. Just as I thought I could screw out a passionate speech, and talk about death, and raptures, and devotion, and that sort of thing, I was stopped by "Don't swear, Mr. Softly," as if I were a drunken coal-heaver begin. ning to use bad language. I stared at Fanny, and Fanny burst out laughing, in the midst of which my bête noir, Harry Martingale, entered

the room, and I vow she repeated every word of our conversation with such serio-comic gravity, that Harry roared with delight, and I felt as miserable as a detected pickpocket in the clutch of a policeman.

Such events as these always made me wretched for a day or two; but I was so far free in my devotion, and Fanny was so kind and encouraging at other times that I did not despair. One day I resolved to learn my fate. I knew that it would require prodigious efforts on my part to bring myself to ask the momentous question: so I put myself through a course of mental and physical training.

'Why should you be afraid?" I asked myself; " she is but a woman --she can but refuse you―you feel clear from all blame-your intentions are honourable-she has given you decided encouragementCe n'est que le premier pas,'" &c. All which like self-persuasion in general had very little real effect on my mind; but I was resolved.

Next, I got some pale brandy and took a wine-glass full of it: I had never done such a thing in the morning before. Its effects were astonishing. I felt warmer, stronger, firmer, braver. The danger seemed smaller. I put on my hat and walked to Fanny's residence my heart more quiet than usual, and my cheeks decidedly glowing under the alcoholic influence.

No, Sir. Miss Duffield is."

Very well, I'll see her ;" and I was ushered into the drawing-room, where Fanny sat alone.

The effects of the brandy were getting weaker. I didn't feel so bold as I was a quarter of an hour ago; my heart thumped much more, and my thoughts were a little confused. I began to talk about the weather. By degrees, however, the conversation grew more animated, and I actually screwed up my courage to say,

“Miss Duffield, I have come to have a serious conversation with you."

"Oh, pray don't! I hate everything serious," said Fanny. I was rather disconcerted, but I went on,

"But Miss Duffield, at the risk of disobeying you, I must speak; it is a matter affecting my whole happiness, perhaps my very existence." The brandy was warming up again, and I was getting bold. Fanny positively looked grave, but nothing abashed. "Miss Duffield," I proceeded, "you must have noticed the ardour with which I worship you; the devotion that I feel for you; cannot be a secret to you; the daily proofs I have given you of my attachment, the a-a-a-thein fact-you must know that my happiness is in your hands, and I implore you to tell me whether I may-'

"Mr. Softly, is this a declaration of love-a genuine one, or only a little piece of merriment on your part?"

"For Heaven's sake, Fanny, do not trifle with me. Can you not see that I am only too deeply in earnest ?"

Well, then I am sorry to hear it; because-pardon me I really thought from your very excited appearance that you had perhaps been to some gay déjeuner, where champagne and liqueurs had been plentiful!" she had smelt the pale brandy, as I am a sinner!" and then that you had determined, as a little finish to your morning's entertainment, to come and make pretty speeches to me."

“I conjure you, Fanny, that is, Miss Duffield—”

"Exactly so, the amendment is quite proper; for I am not aware that you have any right to call me by my Christian name. But to pro

ceed, I suppose that I ought to feel flattered by your sentiments; but really I should have thought that you could hardly be ignorant of my engagement"

Engagement!" I faltered, "to-"

"To your intimate friend, Mr. Harry Martingale."

The only oath I ever swore in a lady's presence slipped out then. Fanny left the room instantly. I have not the least notion of how I left it, or when.

I have just recovered from a nervous fever. Two cards lie on my table.

WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT JAPAN.

"AND what do you know about Japan?"

We were all sitting round the tea-table-my father, my mother, Uncle Ben, and myself. Uncle Ben had been captain of an East Indiaman, in the old privileged days of the Company's monopoly, and had written H.C.S. after his name. He had seen a great deal of the world, as sailors see it, what may be called marginally, and he had made a good deal of money; on both of which accounts-perhaps on the latter even more than on the former-he was held to be a great authority in our family, and in some others where he was known. I had said something about Japan, and my uncle, in his bluff way, silenced me with the question"And what do you know about Japan?"

I looked down at my boots. I had a vague idea of Japan blacking and Japan leather. My boots were in all the undeniable brilliancy of the latter, and I believe that my knowledge of the subject was limited to this fact. My mother looked at the tea-tray-but it was papiermaché. My father took up the newspaper.

There was a pause, -the question was repeated

"And what do you know about Japan?

"America is going to war with it, --Isn't she, uncle?" at last I took courage to ask.

"Yes, boy; and quite right too," was the oracular response.

"Hem!" said my father, laying down the paper and walking towards the book-shelves which skirted the room. We generally spend the evening in the library. My father likes to live among his books. There was another pause, which my mother was the first to break. "But what are they going to war about, captain?" she said. about opium, or about tea, or about a king who is to take the place of some other king, or an ambassador to whom they have not been civil, or an edict that the other party does not understand?'

"Is it

They won't open their ports," said my uncle. "They insult all the flags of the civilized world. If you go to them even to restore their own people, who have been cast away or carried into captivity, they fire upon you without ceremony. They treat all the world as their enemies, and, by Jove! they must be brought to their senses.”

"Or frightened out of them," said my father, not looking up from his book.

"But tell us, now, something about Japan. You know all those places," said my mother. "It is a great cluster of islands, is it not, somewhere out in the Indian seas?"

"Yes; right out in the sea of Japan-not far from the Yellow Sealatitude between 30° and 45° north; longitude from 130° to 150° east. That's pretty near it," said my uncle, "as we used to have it on our charts."

"And," said my father, reading aloud from the paper in his hand, "the empire of Japan covers an area of more than 100,000 square miles; its population is estimated at 30,000,000, and covering an archipelago, its sea-coast is more extensive than the whole Atlantic coast of the United States. It not only lies directly opposite our possessions (that is, the

American possessions-for this is an extract from the New York Cou rier)-our possessions on the Pacific coast, but the two great islands of Niphon and Yesso form the strait of Sangar, through which hundreds of our whale fleet are compelled annually to pass; but to land upon the shores of which for supplies of wood, water, or the necessaries of life, subjects the unfortunate whaler to robbery and death."

"Robbery and death!" ejaculated my uncle, "that 's it; go on." "Steel-traps and spring-guns set in these premises," said my father. "The notice has been up now along the whole line of coast for two hundred years. But I am telling you now what the Americans say about the matter, Japan not only refuses to hold commercial intercourse with the rest of the world-a very questionable right—but she goes further, and occupying, as she does, an enormous extent of sea-coast, she not only refuses to open her ports to foreign vessels in distress, but actually opens her batteries upon them when they approach within gunshot of her shores; and when driven upon them by stress of weather, she seizes upon, imprisons, exhibits in cages, and actually murders the crews of such ill-fated vessels. This has been submitted to too long already, and the constant increase of our whale fleet, and the consequent increase of disasters in this barbarous and inhospitable region, have compelled our Government, unprompted except by its wise foresight, to insist upon a reform in the policy and bearing of the Japanese towards the rest of the world.'-For rest of the world," parenthesised my father, "read the United States; I do not suppose that our Transatlantic brethren care much about the rest of the world."

"Go on," said my uncle.

"The single fact,'" continued my father, still reading, "that at one time within the last year there were one hundred and twenty-one American whalers lying in the harbours of the Sandwich Islands, far away from their cruising grounds, because they could not enter any harbour on the coast of Japan for repairs, shows not only the extent of our commerce in that region, but the claims of humanity itself for protection against the barbarians who thus cut off, as it were, the commerce of the Yellow Sea and the sea of Ochotsk.'"

"Well-what do you say to that?" asked my Uncle Ben.

"The case for the plaintiff," said my father, drily.

"But tell me something more about the country and the people," said my mother. "Have they a king in those parts?"

"Two," responded my father.

"Heaven help them then!" I ejaculated, for I am something of a Republican. "I should have thought that one was enough for any people in the world."

My father only smiled at this outburst, and then he went on.

"They have two kings-a spiritual and a secular king-in other words, a high priest and a temporal monarch; only, I suppose, having more respect for religion in those parts than we have in more civilized countries, they invest with something of imperial dignity the head of the church, and surround him at the same time with a halo of sanctity such as is nowhere to be found in other parts of the world. The spiritual king is, of course (as regards the concerns of temporal government), a mere shadow-something shadowy and grand-altogether sublime from his

indistinctness."

"The sun is not suffered to shine upon him," interposed Uncle Ben. "Heaven help him!" said my father. "I have often thought that if