ture of the tea. Very large quantities of tea are now manufactured every year, which sell readily at a high price; and there is reason to believe that the cultivation of the tea-plant will spread widely in future years, and that the trade in tea produced in India will become considerable in extent. The vast extent of India, and the diversities of soil and climate existing within its limits, are eminently favourable for the production of valuable crops not indigenous to the country, and the Government is more and more directing its attention to the promotion of such undertakings. An experiment has been made for the growth of silk, and workmen skilled in the business, mulberry plants, and every other requisite, have been provided by the Government. The growth of flax has likewise been largely encouraged, and the cultivation of it has already extended to very considerable dimensions. Agricultural societies are beginning to ap pear,-various kinds of seeds are being introduced from Europe for the improvement of the cultivation in certain provinces,--and Merino rams have been procured by the Government from Australia for improving the breed of sheep. A breed of sheep has also been introduced into our new province of Pegu, and the experiment promises to be very successful. The natives show a strong desire to possess them; they thrive perfectly, and are singularly fruitful. The ab sence of sheep in that province has hitherto been severely felt by the troops and others employed there, but this privation in respect of food appears now likely to be soon removed. Central India, from Nerbua Assam, abounds alike in iron and coal-beds. "Coal occurs e sively in ten provinces," says Dr M'Clelland, "namely, Tenasseri racan, Orissa (Cuttack), Bengal per, Burdwan, Sylhet, Assam, R chal, Behar, and Nerbudda. In instance iron ores-either the s mon clay ironstone, or red or y ironstone, containing from 30 t per cent of iron-occur with the or extensively in the same distri And Mr Williams, geological surv to the Indian Government, rep that "the actual cost of mining in India, including agency and is one rupee (28.) per ton, and t cost of mining iron would not ex three shillings per ton. It could mined in large quantities [for stance, in the Soane district] for m less." Taking coal and iron togethe at the average Indian rates, the es of the two at the pit's mouth is more than half what it is in Scotla or Wales. Labour, too, is plenti and cheap, for population is s what in excess of the means of ployment; a large portion of it i ever ready to go anywhere or do y thing for a mere fraction of the wages that could be offered in this country and we have the testimony of eng neers to the merits of the patient an clever Hindoo at mining, smelting and the other processes of the in manufactures. In the great railway works now in progress in India, a ample market is opened for the pro duce both of the iron and coal mines. But the great obstacle is the want of roads. The distance and difficulty of access to the minerals are formidable impediments to their availability; and nothing but the gradual exten sion of railways will bring these rich stores into extensive use. One word more, on a matter which may appear unimportant, but which is not so. We mean the Woods of India. For generations to come the Indian forests must supply a hundred and fifty millions of people with fuel, besides all the other requirements of wood-work, ship-building, &c. Hence The mineral riches of India are still almost entirely in an undeveloped state. The search for sparkling gems has in all ages been eagerly engaged in, but the thousand-fold more valuable seams of coal and iron have remained unsought for and untouched up to present times. A beginning, however, has at last been made, and the bust and best, though poetically ligned, Age of Iron is about to spread its blessings over India. There it behoves the Government to watch is no doubt of the existence of coal in abundance, and rich mines of iron have likewise been discovered. Indeed over the vast living stor een mantled with forests; but the A first result of the establishment of civilisation in a country is to produce a want of that very article which was formerly over-plenteous. Even in many parts of North Amemrica a want of wood is much felt; and if we turn away from "modern instances" to the old empire of China, we find that wood is there so scarce that fires are in little use, and the deficit of household caloric has to be compensated by a multiplicity of clothing. It was manifestly the design of Providence, in thus mantling the face of the earth with primeval woods, to keep man in comfort until his wits became sufficiently sharpened and his energies develop ed to enable him to discover and avail himself of the better mineral fuel beneath his feet. And precisely as the forests are cleared, and the surface of the earth becomes more and more devoted to raising food for man, does the revelation take place of those fuel-stores below, which Nature prepared as a means of permitting a larger population on the face of the globe than was otherwise possible. In the New World each member of the immigrant AngloSaxon race was left to do what was right in his own eyes, and (as Paddy would say) "wrong too if he likes;" but we are glad to observe that the Indian Government has recently taken measures for the preservation and renewal of forests in various parts of the country, so as at once to prevent unthrifty management of them, and to make adequate provision for the wants of the future. Rules have been laid down, and officers appointed for this purpose. The forests of Oude have hitherto furnished our chief supplies of timber for public purposes in Hindostan, and as these have now been brought under our control, they will henceforth be carefully regulated and preserved. On the treeless plains of the Punjab, efforts are being made to rear extensive woods; and we trust the undertaking will succeed, for it will not only diminish the sad want of fuel experienced in these districts, but also, perhaps, suffice to alter the climate, and bring down again over the parched land refreshing rains. Here we conclude this sketch of our great Indian Empire. Having occupied so much space with the exposition of the leading features of our subject, it is impossible to advert in any way to the probable future of the people or their British rulers. Now that railways are beginning to span the land, awaking, tossing together, and amalgamating the different tribes and peoples of India,-n -now that commerce and wealth are slowly beginning to accumulate in native hands, and that natives in ever-increasing numbers are taking part in the administration of the country, the future, the goal towards which all this is tending, must more and more press itself upon the consideration of thoughtful beholders. Suffice it to say, however, that India promises to continue for many generations subject to the ascendancy of the British race, and that it behoves us to fulfil the concomitant duty of benefiting the people over whom we rule. A cheerful and noble though arduous task; and we doubt not that many of the brightest names on the beadroll of England will continue to be contributed by the lordly bands of her sons who go forth to uphold her strange and mighty Empire in the East. THE ATHELINGS; OR, THE THREE GIFTS. PART VIL CHAPTER XXL-THE YOUNG PRINCE. tion, as sweet a vision of det as ever appeared to the eyes of is And Louis came-came-o scended to take tea-stayed two hours or so, and then took departure, hurriedly promising come back for his sister. This m anticipated hero-could it be pos that his going away was the grea relief to them all, and that no d the little party felt at all comforta or at ease till he was gone? It most strange and deplorable, yet was most true beyond the possi of question; for Louis, with all young man's sensitive pride st into bitterness by his position, ha tily repelled the interest and kindnes of all these women. He was an at Rachel-poor little anxious t Rachel, who almost looked happ when they crossed this kindly thre old-for supposing these friends hers, who were all women, could b companions for him; he was angry at himself for his anger; he was the haughtiest and darkest frame of his naturally impetuous temper. rather disposed to receive as an it sult any overture of friendship, fiercely to plume himself upon separated and orphaned state. The were all entirely discomfited and taken aback by their stately visit whom they had been disposed to re ceive with the warmest cordiality, and treat as one whom it was in their power to be kind to. Though his sister did so much violence to her natural feelings that she might hold her ground as his representative, Louis did not by any means acknow ledge her deputyship. In entire opposition to her earnest and anxious frankness, Louis closed himself up with a jealous and repellant reserve; said nothing he could help saying, and speaking, when he did speak, IT may be supposed that, after all they had heard of him, the Athelings prepared themselves with a little excitement for the visit of Louis. Even Mrs Atheling, who disapproved of him, could not prevent herself from wandering astray in long speculations about the old lord—and it seemed less improper to wonder and inquire concerning a boy, whom the Honourable Anastasia herself inquired after and wondered at. As for the girls, Louis had come to be an ideal hero to both of them. The adored and wonderful brother of Rachel-though Rachel was only a girl, and scarcely so wise as themselves the admiration of Miss Bridget, and the anxiety of Miss Anastasia, though these were only a couple of old ladies, united in a half deification of the lordly young stranger, whose own appearance and manner were enough to have awakened a certain romantic interest in their simple young hearts. They were extremely concerned to-night about their homely tea-table-that everything should look its best and brightest; and even contrived, unknown to Hannah, to filch and convert into a temporary cake-basket that small rich old silver salver, which had been wont to stand upon one of Miss Bridget's little tables for cards. Then they robbed the garden for a sufficient bouquet of flowers; and then Agnes, half against her sister's will, wove in one of those pale roses to Marian's beautiful hair. Marian, though she made a laughing protest against this, and pretended to be totally indifferent to the important question, which dress she should wear? clearly recognised herself as the heroine of the evening. She knew very well, if no one else did, what was the vision which Louis had seen at the old gate, and came hown to Miss Bridget's prim old parlour in her pretty light muslin dress with the rose in her hair, looking, in her little flutter and palpita did not so much as refer to the Hall with a cold and indifferent dignity Rachel, when she was about to do or Lord Winterbourne, and checked with an almost imperceptible C peremptory and full of displeasure. Poor Rachel, constantly referring to him with her eyes, and feeling the ground entirely taken from beneath her feet, sat pale and anxious, full of 13 apprehension and dismay. Marian, who was not accustomed to see her own pretty self treated with such absolute unconcern, took down Fatheras less Fanny from the bookshelf, and played with it, half reading, half "pre3 tending," at one of the little tables. Agnes, after many vain attempts to draw Rachel's unmanageable brother into conversation, gave it up at last, and sat still by Rachel's side in embarrassed silence. Mamma betook herself steadily to her workbasket. The conversation fell away into mere questions addressed to Louis, and answers in monosyllables, so that it was an extreme relief to every member of the little party when this impracticable visitor rose at last, bowed to them all, and hastened away. Rachel sat perfectly silent till the sound of his steps had died upon the road; then she burst out in a vehement apologetic outcry. "Oh, don't be angry with him-don't, please," said Rachel; "he thinks I have been trying to persuade you to be kind to him, and he cannot bear that even from me; and indeed, indeed you may believe me, it is quite true! I never saw him, except once or twice, in such a humour before." My dear," said Mrs Atheling, with that dignified tone which Mamma could assume when it was necessary, to the utter discomfiture of her opponent "my dear, we are very glad to see your brother, but of course it can be nothing whatever to us the kind of humour he is in; that is quite his own concern." Poor Rachel now, having no other resource, cried. She was only herself in this uncomfortable moment. She could no longer remember Louis's pride or Louis's dignity; for a moment the poor little subject heart felt a pang of resentment against the object of its idolatry, such as little Rachel had sometimes felt when Louis was 66 naughty," and she, his unfortunate little shadow, innocently shin his punishment; but now, former time, the personal NO. CCCCXCIV. trouble of the patient little sister yielded to the dread that Louis was not understood." "You will know him better some time," she said, drying her sorrowful appealing eyes. So far as appearances went at this moment, it did not seem quite desirable to know him better, and nobody said a word in return. After this the three girls went out together to the garden, still lying sweet in the calm of the long summer twilight, under a young moon and some early stars. They did not speak a great deal. They were all considerably absorbed with thoughts of this same hero, who, after all, had not taken an ineffective method of keeping their interest alive. And Marian did not know how or whence it was that this doubtful and uncertain paladin came to her side in the pleasant darkness, but was startled by his voice in her ear as she leaned once more over the low garden-gate. "It was here I saw you first," said Louis, and Marian's heart leaped in her breast, half with the suddenness of the words, half with-something else. Louis, who had been so haughty and ungracious all the evening-Louis, Rachel's idol, everybody's superior-yet he spoke low in the startled ear of Marian, as if that first seeing had been an era in his life. "Come with us," said Louis, as Rachel at sight of him hastened to get her bonnet-" come along this enchanted road a dozen steps into fairyland, and back again. I forget everything, even myself, on such a night." And they went, scarcely answering, yet more satisfied with this brief reference to their knowledge of him, than if the king had forsaken his nature, and become as confidential as Rachel. They went their dozen steps on what was merely the terraced pathway, soft, dark, and grassy, to Agnes and Rachel, who went first in anxious conversation, but which the other two, coming silently behind, had probably a different idea of. Marian at least could not help cogitating these same adjectives, with a faint inquiry within herself, what it was which could make this an enchanted road or fairyland. 2 Y CHAPTER XXII.-A BEGINNING. paling, rousing her to a guilty sciousness that she had been thinking of him, which brought blush ata blush in a flutter of "sweet shanefacednesse" to her cheek, and weighed down still more heavily the shy and dreamy lids of these beautiful eva The most unaccountable thing the world! but Marian, who had ceived with perfect coolness the h age of Sir Langham, and whose science smote her with no comp tions for the slaying of the gifte American, had strangely lost her possession to-day. She only rep in the sedatest and gravest mate possible to the questions of her co panion-looked anxiously at the pa four window for an opportunity a calling Agnes, and with the greatest embarrassment longed for the presen of some one to end this tête-à Louis, on the contrary, exerted hi self for her amusement, and was different from the Louis of last nigt as it was possible to conceive. The next morning, while the mother and daughters were still in the full fervour of discussion about this same remarkable Louis, he himself was seen for the first time in the early daylight passing the window, with that singular rapidity of step which he possessed in common with his sister. They ceased their argument after seeing him-why, no one could have told; but quite unresolved as the question was, and though Mamma's first judgment, unsoftened by that twilight walk, was still decidedly unfavourable to Louis, they all dropped the subject tacitly and at once. Then Mamma went about various domestic occupations; then Agnes dropped into the chair which stood before that writing-book upon the table, and, with an attention much broken and distracted, gradually fell away into her own ideal world; and then Marian, leading Bell and Beau with meditative hands, glided forth softly to the garden, with downcast face and drooping eyes, full of thought. The children ran away from her at once when their little feet touched the grass, but Marian went straying along the paths, absorbed in her meditation, her pretty arms hanging by her side, her pretty head bent, her light fair figure gliding softly in shadow over the low mossy paling and the close-clipped hedge within. She was thinking only what it was most natural she should think, about the stranger of last night; yet now and then into the stream of her musing dropped, with the strangest disturbance and commotion, these few quiet words spoken in her ear," It was here I saw you first." How many times, then, had Louis seen her? and why did he recollect so well that first occasion and what did he mean? While she was busy with these fancies, all at once, Marian could not tell how, as suddenly as he appeared last night, Louis was here again--here, within the garden of the Old Wood Lodge, walking by Marian's side, a second long shadow upon the close-clipped hedge and the mossy Ay, there it is," said Louis, whe had just asked her what she knew Oxford-"there it is, the seat of lean ing, thrusting up all its pinnacles to the sun; but I think, if the work were wise, this glitter and shining might point to the dark, dark i rance outside of it, even more than to the little glow within." Now this was not much in Marian's way-but her young squirt, who would have submitted himsel willingly to her guidance had se given any, was not yet acquainted at all with the ways of Marian. She said, simply, looking at the big dome sullenly throwing off the sunbeams, and at the glancing arrow heads, of more impressible and delicate kind, "I think it is very pretty and with all those different spires towers; but do you mean it is the poor people who are so very ignorant ! It seems as though people could scarcely help learning who live there." 66 Yes, the poor people I mean all of us," said Louis slowly, and with a certain painful emphasis. "A great rers, it is true, have many of the never be 1: but I do not |