"Her eye wandered over one of those smiling scenes almost peculiar to her native land. The shadows of gigantic oak and knotted elm dappled a verdure bright as a poet's dream of the lawns of Eden. A river, scarcely seen to flow, spread its glassy windings amidst the peaceful slopes, where the morning-smokes, and the church tower peeping from the woods, might lead the fancy to many a scene of cheerful labour and domestic peace. But one object alone drew Emmeline's eye. It was a graceful figure, which, with head bent downwards, and looks fixed on the earth, was slowly and thoughtfully approaching her dwelling. Is that the step of a bridegroom? thought Emmeline. But, ere the tear that started had trickled down her cheek, De Clifford's eye met hers; and his

smile of fond and fervent love banished the remembrance of all sorrow and all crime.

"It was not the coldness of declining passion, nor the regrets of a reluctant engagement, which had clouded De Clifford's brow. Nor was it the fear of the world's scorn; for even the idea that he could be scorned had never darkened De Clifford's soul. His was one of the few powerful minds, which are, indeed, their own awful world.' He had been accustomed to command applause, not to need, still less to solicit it; and, when crowds huzzaed, and senates thanked him, he had said to himself, these people praise they know not what. Success is their idol. I might have been the man I am, and yet tried by a court-martial.' Yet De Clifford was now, though he acknowledged it not to himself, sunk in his own esteem. He told himself that others, tempted as he had been, would, like him, have fallen. But this balm was powerless for the wounds of a mind like De Clifford's. Of the heavenly medicine, which alone can heal the noble spirit, De Clifford thought not. His only resource was to banish the recollection of his guilt; and in this he was not unsuccessful." FP. 3-7.

On their marriage, they go to the ancient mansion of Dé Clifford, which is deserted by his mother and sister on their approach, and here they continue in a solitude which soon be comes gloomy. The generosity of Emeline's first husband, strikingly displayed on the occasion of her fall,

and the recollection of her children, are ever torturing her solitary reflections. De Clifford longs for more rousing occupation. It is scarcely possible to mention all the little sources of their disquiet, which consisted rather in feelings, than in occurrences. The following is a description of their general reception in the country.

"Meanwhile, this pair were left to their own pleasures and their own pains. The first weeks of their abode at Euston they passed entirely alone; the few gentry who were in the neighbourhood keeping aloof. With some, it was no matter of hesitation whether they should receive into society her who had broken its mest powerful bond, or whether they should open their families to her who had violated all the sanctities of her own. Some waited to see what others would do; curiosity overcoming their dislike of vice, but not their awe for public opinion; and some who had never been admitted to Euston Hall, and who suspected that the same exclusion might operate still, loudly declared, that

they would be civil to poor Lady de Clifford, should they happen to meet with her, but that they had no idea of throwing themselves in the way of such people.'

"It was remarked, that the congrega tion at Euston church became unusually numerous and unusually gay; but the first Sunday after her arrival, Lady de Clifford was not there; and the second she had taken her place before the clergyman-wore a slouch bonnet-held down her head dur

ing the whole service-end, when it was over, disappeared like a shadow; so that the only facts which could be affirmed con-cerning her by the ladies of Euston were, that her figure was to their taste, rather small, and her veil real Brussels lace.'

"The only visitors who disturbed the solitude of the lovers were, a neighbouring squire, who had married his housekeeper; the candidate for the borough; and a mem ber of the four-in-hand club, who obligingly turned a few miles aside to make Euston Hall a stage between Cheltenham and York races.

"De Clifford recollected the crowds of visitors, who had formerly hurried to congratulate his arrival. They had annoyed › and fatigued him. He had been sick of mammas who had exhibited their daugh ters, and of misses who exhibited themselves. He cared nothing for good dinners; disliked drinking; and loathed the paltry politics which furnished his neighbours with causes of irritation or of triumph. He was, therefore, not sorry to be left alone. But, that people whom he despised should venture any mark of neglect or dis

respect to Emmeline !-to his Emmeline! He did smile scornfully at the thought, but there was bitterness in the smile. Nor did he forget to think, were he withdrawn from her, how total, how unbroken would be her solitude; how lost would be all the graces of her polished mind and captivating manners; how her life would waste, without hope and without pursuit; how the affections of that gentle heart would wither and perish, cast out, and trodden under foot." pp 38-41.

There was at last some hope of Emmeline being received into the society of a Mrs Villiers, a lady of excellent character and most agreeable manners, their next neighbour, who was under great obligation to Emmeline for the care which had been taken of her little boy, when he was carried into De Clifford's house after meeting with a severe accident. Mrs Villiers called on her to thank her for her attentions, but expressed no wish for a continuance of the intercourse.

"The carriage which was to convey the invalid home drove up to the door, and tears of disappointment and mortification had filled Emmeline's eyes, when Mrs Villiers at last requested admission. The glow of joy and of timidity brightening in her delicate cheek, Emmeline hastily advanced to receive her welcome visitor; and, as she stood before her guest, trembling, yet glad, -embarrassed, yet graceful-the forgot ten tear still glittering under her long dark eye-lashes her slender form bending somewhat forward, half in courtesy, half in habitual dejection,-Mrs Villiers gazed on her with a compassion that rose even to pain. Lovely, miserable thing!' she thought, must thou, so formed to adorn virtue, charm only to disguise the deformity of vice! Yet, such as thou art, except those charms, might I have been, had not the providence and grace of Him whom thou knowest not preserved me! Unhappy victim of a sentence wise as it is terrible! But the nooler the victim, the more solemn the warning! I must not help thee to hide the brand that warns others from thy crime and thy punishment.'

"No trace of severity or of scorn appeared in her manner; for hers was the spirit that rejoiceth not in iniquity,' but regards it as the foul spot of pestilence, loathsome indeed, but deadly too. The majesty of independence and virtue was so softened in her mind and voice by Christian compassion, that Emmeline was irresistibly won to love, as well as to respect, and felt almost re-assured and happy.

"Mrs Villiers had thanked her grace fully, nay warmly, for her hospitalities; she had bid her a gentle, almost a kind farewell; she had turned to go and was al

"Yet the thought was scarcely formed, ere she reproached herself with regretting any sacritice which could be made for one so dear; and when De Clifford came in, creased melancholy, all that she had reand tenderly inquired the cause of her innounced seemed for the moment light in the balance. It was with some reluctance that she confessed to her husband her hopes and their disappointment; for she was daily sinking deeper into that abasement, which, by imperceptible degrees, was withdrawing her from the confidence of wedded friendship.

"Before she had ended her detail, De Clifford had coldly released her from his arms. And is that all ?' he said, turning away.

"If you would learn a little of the dignity and self-dependence that become your condition, Emmeline, it would not be in the power of every indifferent person to ruffle your spirits or your temper.'

Hour

"The reproach was no sooner uttered, than he was conscious that the latter part of it sprang only from his own jaundiced perceptions; yet not deigning to retract, he left Emmeline alone to weep over its injustice. But Emmaline was not the greatest sufferer. The pliant nature of voman is perhaps incapable of that anguish which deserved humiliation inflicts on the stubborn soul of man. Emmeline could shed tears and find relief in them; could own that she deserved her fate, and submit to it unresisting, though in sorrow. after hour, De Clifford could nurse his bitter thoughts alone, conld find in his own misery a reason for hating all human kind, could execrate the severity of those who stand, and the folly of those who fall; could weigh what he had renounced against what he had obtained; smile in disdain upon the infatuated eagerness of his former pursuit, and the more infatuated facility of his prey; could curse the hour when honour, activity, and fame, every manly pursuit, every heroic purpose, were spurned for a toy; doubt whether life were worth the load of weariness which it laid on him; rouse himself at the thought that a brave man's death might yet shed its glory on his tarnished name;-then remember the desolate widowed Emmeline, and falter; then wipe the cold drops from his forehead, submit himself again to the of gaze man, and be like the deep flood of lava, firm, dark, and cold to the beholder, while devouring fires are yet glowing in its heart." pp. 93-97.

In a few sentences more, the tale is abruptly broken off. It is beautifully written throughout, and has a greater delicacy and softness, we think, than any of Mrs Brunton's former works. Although the plan is incomplete, yet quite enough is given for the moral effect, and perhaps that effect may be deeper and more powerful, coming, in this manner, in the expiring words of the admirable writer. Being dead she yet speaketh," and the calm of the grave now diffuses over her admonitions a holy and sainted character. We shall venture, hereafter, to give a sketch of the memoir, which opens this most interesting little volume. At present, we conclude, in the affecting words which are prefixed to it, and which even we can feel were never more appropriate ly applied

Vale!
Heu quanto minus est
Cum reliquis versari,
Quam Tui
Meminisse!

ON LITHOGRAPHY.

Ir is somewhat surprising that this art, which has attained so high a degree of excellence in many parts of the Continent, and has been applied to so many useful purposes, should be so little known in this country. There are probably many persons, even among those who are actively engaged in the pursuit of the arts intimately connected with this interesting discovery, who have never heard of it, far less are they acquainted with the inportant uses to which it has been applied. To such persons the following sketch may be interesting, and it will probably excite them to farther inquiry.

The art of lithography, or, as it is usually, though improperly, called, stone-engraving, was invented, about 20 years ago, at Munich, by a person of the name of Senefelder. It has been practised for several years with considerable success, and recently brought to a great degree of excellence in Germany and France. It is only very lately that it has excited much attention in England; but the proofs that have been received of the high degree of perfection to which it is capable of being carried, have roused the zeal of several English artists, who are now

pro

prosecuting the art with every pr mise of soon acquiring the same skill in the execution that the artists of Germany and France have attained.

Before describing the process, it will be useful to point out the nature and qualities of the materials employed. The stone employed at Munich is an argillaceous limestone, of a light fawn colour, and very compact earthy texture, very much resembling a mass of glazier's putty when dried. It is found at Solenhofen, in the county of Papperheim, on the borders of Bava ria and Franconia, and it occupies a geological position similar to the Jura limestone. Upon analysis it is found to contain about 81 per cent. of carbonate of lime, 2 per cent. of silica, a trace of magnesia, and the remainder alumine. When breathed upon, it emits a strong earthy smell. Its specific gravity is 2.628, that of Carrara marble being 2.717, and chalk 2.252.

The qualities that are required in the stone are a certain degree of hardness, a compact earthy texture, and the quality of absorbing fluids with readiness. No stone has yet been found possessing these combined properties in an equal degree to that found at Solenhofen. Those which come nearest to it are one of the beds in the Paris basin, and a limestone known by the name of White Lias, found at Corston near Bath. It is difficult to obtain the Paris stone of any tolerable size, without imperfections in the uniformity of the texture. The Corston stone is, upon the whole, better, and, indeed, for some parts of the process, possesses advantages over the Bavarian stone. The specific gravity of the Corston stone is 2.649, and it yields, on analysis, about 94 per cent. of carbonate of lime, 2 of silica, a trace of magnesia, and the rest alumine. The chief objection to the Corston stone seems to be, that it has too much of a crystalline structure. The Bavarian stone splits naturally into thin slabs, the other two require to be sawn into slabs of the proper thickness.

The material for drawing upon the stone, whether in the form of liquid ink or of a crayon, is composed of oil,. soap, rosin, bees-wax, and lampblack. The ink for taking the impressions is composed of boiled linseed oil and lamp-black, ground together.

The art has been improperly termed stone-engraving, for the graver is not used. It consists in making a drawing upon a stone, from which impressions may be taken upon paper, in the same way that impressions are obtained from a copperplate engraving. There are three ways in which this may be done; the first is by making the drawing upon a prepared paper, and afterwards transferring that drawing to the stone from which the impressions are to be taken; another, by drawing upon the stone itself with liquid ink; and a third, and the most perfect mode, by making the drawing upon the stone with a prepared crayon. The stone is prepared in nearly the same way for all the three methods. The slabs ought not to be less than an inch and a half in thickness; if thinner, they are soon worn down, and are, besides, apt to be broken by the powerful pressure to which they are exposed. A thinner slab may answer if it is cemented to another stone. It must be ground down to a perfectly smooth surface, in the ordinary way, with sand, and a very slight degree of polish should be given to it, except when the drawing is to be made with the crayon, when the surface should be slightly granulated.

In the first process, termed the transfer, a bibulous paper is coated on one side with a size composed of starch and gamboge, and well dried. The ink, which is prepared and sold in sticks like Indian ink, is rubbed down with warm water to the consistence of Japan ink, and applied upon the paper either with a camel's-hair pencil or a hard pen. The drawing being completed, the stone is gradually warmed before the fire, but not more than the hand can easily bear, and then laid in the printing-press. The paper with the drawing is now laid upon the stone, with the ink next to it, and the back of the paper is well wetted with a sponge. The stone carrying the drawing is now passed several times through the press, at first with slight pressure, but increasing the pressure each time. When this is done, the back of the paper is again thoroughly wetted, when it will come off, and leave the ink-drawing upon the stone. In the second way of making the drawing, it is done by

drawing upon the stone itself with the liquid ink, applied with a camel's-hair pencil or a hard pen; and, in the third way, the drawing is made upon the stone with a prepared chalk, used in the ordinary way with a paste-crayon. The drawing being now upon the stone, by either of these three different operations, what remains to be done is the same in all.

A dilute acid, consisting of one part in the hundred by measure of nitric acid, or a little stronger, according to the quality of the stone, is floated over the surface of the stone upon which the drawing is made, and allowed to remain till all effervescence has ceased, which is generally in two or three minutes. The stone is then well washed with a sponge and water, and, while it is yet wet, a roller covered with printing ink is passed over it. The printing ink adheres to the parts of the stone which are covered with the drawing, and is rejected by those parts which are soaked with water. When the drawing, thus coated with printing ink, and washed over with gum water, is thoroughly dry, it is ready to have the impressions taken from it.

In taking the impressions, the stone is laid in the press, the coating of gum is washed off, and all greasy spots res moved, by washing the stone over with a sponge dipped in acidulated water.. It is now well soaked with water, and the printing ink is carefully rolled over it. The impression is thrown off upon damp paper, in the ual way, and between each impression, before the ink is applied, the wet sponge is passed over the stone.

The theory of the art is a very simple one. It depends upon the absorbent power of the stone, the attraction which oily and resinous bodies have for each other, and their quality of repelling water. The oily and resinous matter of the drawing material is absorbed to a certain depth by the stone. The dilute acid gives the drawing a degree of relief, as it acts upon all those parts which are not covered by the ink or crayon; but this is not the chief use of it, for the relief is so small, that it can have no effect in the printing. The advantage of the acid seems to be to prevent the lateral spreading of the oil in the ink, by pe netrating more quickly into the stone"

than water alone would do, and by the sinking of the oil in a vertical direction, the edges of the lines are kept sharper, and a greater number of impressions may be obtained. Before the printing ink is rolled on, the stone is always moistened, but the moisture is only retained by the parts of the stone that are not covered by the drawing, and when the printing ink is applied, from its oily nature, it adheres to the drawing, and is repelled by the moistened stone.

The press that is used in Germany, and which has been found to answer best, is termed a scraping press. The stone, with the paper lying upon it, is carried under a bar of wood bevelled off to a knife edge, held down by a compound lever that is worked by the foot. The ingenious Mr John Ruthven of this city is now engaged in constructing a press upon the principle of his improved printing press, which will probably be found to answer better than that now in use. That gentleman has been long watching the progress of this valuable discovery, and has pointed out many useful purposes to which it may be applied, but he has been checked by the difficulty of procuring stones of a proper quality, and of learning many of the minute details of the process upon which its success so much depends.

When the drawing is made with chalk, 500 good impressions may be obtained; when it is made with ink, the number is almost incredible, for it is said that 70,000 impressions have been thrown off, without any imperfection in the last copy. The reason why the ink drawings afford so many more impressions than the chalk, arises from the greater quantity of oily matter penetrating deeper into

the stone.

That the progress of this art will be rapid, there can be no doubt, from the facility with which it may be followed. Unlike most arts, it does not require a long apprenticeship before excellence can be attained. The stone affords the same surface as the finest quality of drawing paper, and the draughtsman and engraver are not only combined in the same person, but one operation does the work of both. Nothing of the spirit of the original is lost, which it ever must

be, when the drawing is to be copied by another art and another hand, and we obtain, not fuc similes, but a multiplication of original drawings, to any extent that may be wished. When we consider the avidity with which the sketches of the old masters are now sought after, how deeply is it to be regretted that this discovery was not made in their time, and how highly it must be prized by the artists of the present day!

But among all the advantages that will result from it, the most important is the vast increase to the diffusion of knowledge in a variety of branches, and through an infinite number of channels, which has hitherto been impracticable from the expence of copperplate engraving. How cheaply engravings of this sort may be obtained in comparison with what their price would be if executed on copper, may be judged of from this, that an eminent artist of this city, who has lately directed his attention to Lithography, executed a drawing upon stone, in 13 hours, which would have required two months constant labour to have engraved upon copper with the same effect.

In the East, where the variety of their characters renders printing by types so difficult and so expensive, this art may be applied with the most extensive benefit. All that is requir ed is to have the words distinctly written upon the stone, and we have seen, that 70,000 copies may be ob tained. It has been used for several years in the Austrian service for distributing regimental orders, and it has also been in use for a considerable time in the office of the Commander in Chief at the Horse Guards.

The chief obstacle to its progress is the difficulty of obtaining the stones, and it is very desirable that experi ments should be made upon all stones that appear to possess the requisite properties. But as it is very probable that the strata from which the Bavarian stone is obtained, occupies an extent of country infinitely greater than the utmost demand for this purpose, in a long period of years would ex haust, the more they are sought after, the greater activity will be exerted to overcome the difficulty of procuring them, wherever they may be wanted. Many experiments have been made at