Lunatic Prison, under able management, with a splendid model farm, on the most approved "high farming" principles, with a fine herd of highly-bred cattle. From Broadmoor you look towards Wokingham, where an area of at least 30,000 acres of moor and heath land is intersected with young fir plantations, surrounded by the Reading, Guildford, and Reigate Railway of the South Eastern Company. Moving on towards Blackwater and Aldershot, you cross the South Western Railway at Farnborough, and, looking in the direction of Frimley, Ash, and Purbright, see a vast area of open moor land. About Bagshot is some fine, almost Swiss, scenery on the high hills near the Golden Farmer (Jerry Abershaw's retreat), above the little snug town, or large village, on that famous high road to Exeter and Southampton which boasted once of its forty fast post coaches per day, with sundry posting establishments, now, unfortunately, with the exception of the King's Arms at Bagshot, shut up-to wit, the old White Hart at Bagshot, the White Lion at Hartford Bridge, and the Wellesley Arms at Murrell Green, now the racing stables of Mr. Goddard, who trains on Odiham racecourse. So wild is this country that I have walked eight or ten miles without meeting a human being or a living animal, save a huge wild house-cat of mixed colours (black and white), as big as a fox, and the hundreds of squirrels running and jumping along the range of straight fir trees with which this country abounds. Mr. Garth's Foxhounds hunt almost all this country, which holds a good many flying foxes, and it is a very common occurrence to whip them up on the heaths. I have seen the huntsman entirely thrown out, and a mile behind the hounds, galloping after them-the master and the whips getting away by themselves amongst the range of firs. It is not a favourite hunting country, owing to the number of rabbit holes and bogs, and many a horse has been entirely ruined, and shot on the spot. There is a beautifully-situated shooting box, called "Whichmore House," amidst the woods, with only a country road near, from Bracknell to Blackwater. Here a gamekeeper was murdered some years back, and a watcher, appointed by Government, cut his throat. deep is the feeling amongst the country people, that nobody will live in the house, and such is the superstition that the labourers much dislike going near it, especially at night. Her Majesty's Staghounds used to meet at Knap Hill and Woking station, but this hunting ground has of late years been much neglected, although, beyond the hills, towards Guildford, is a fine vale country. We had a very pretty sight here during the last hunting season.

So

A young

untried hind was uncarted at Tower Hill. She made for Easthampstead and Broadmoor, sunk the hill for Bagshot, dashed into the mill pond close to this house, and miraculously saved herself from being drowned by the hounds, or killed, as the huntsman, Harry King, and the whips, Morris Hill, Edrupt, and Bartlett, on the banks, tried all they could to secure her. Presently she bolted out, ran into a cul-de-sac near some labourers' gardens, and was taken in the inn of Bagshot, where the hounds bayed her for half an hour to lunge the young entries. She died the same night from exhaustion, as is often the case with young hinds. The old cunning deer, such as Volunteer, and the Doctor, Gateby, and others, run well, seldom being taken under twenty miles. The cart is drawn up on an eminence, say at Wokingham, under the fine old Saxon church, close to the town, amidst five or six hundred foot people and ladies, Lord Cork, the master, and one whip generally superintending the start. Putting his head straight for a good country, say Maidenhead Thicket, out comes old dark-coloured Volunteer, with a mane like a lion; or the more beautifully formed Doctor, with almost a Grecian-sculptured head, and of a lighter colour. He looks around, as much as to say, "Where am I?" He snuffs out for the wind, runs with it, and in twenty minutes the hounds are laid on. They feather away for the scent, run muter than toxhounds, and away over the country like a flock of pigeons. The meets in the Bracknell country are not so large as in Buckinghamshire, at Stoke or Farnham Commons, where a deer has been taken at Shardeloes, near Amersham, thirty miles off, and the hounds put up for the night away from home. They are a fine race of men on Bagshot Heath and neighbourhood-well grown and generally good looking compared with the labourers of Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire. They are dreadfully independent and impudent in their bearing, and never touch their hats to the squire or the clergyman, as in other West of England counties. They keep pigs, chickens, and geese. The goslings in May and June are numerous on the common. They are sold to dealers at 2s. a pair to fatten for the markets. These people hardly ever touch any meat except pork. They dress on Sundays like noblemen-in black broadcloth instead of the old smock frocks. The women wear hats, and all kinds of finery; if they put on gloves they look like hogs in armour, and are never seen to such advantage as when hedging and ditching. M. F. H.

THE CLAIRVOYANT.

FROM THE GERMAN OF ZSCHOKKE.

CHAPTER V.

ROM that time Prince Charles and the Count looked forward with painful suspense to the moment when they could get rid of me and solemnise the marriage. Clemen

tina herself impatiently awaited the period when she could enjoy perfect health, and at the same time allay her father's suspicions. No less anxiously did I anticipate the hour; for it was only when far distant from her beloved society, and mingling in different scenes and occupations, that I could hope to heal my wounded heart. I felt how miserable I was.

It was therefore no unexpected event when one day the Countess announced during her clairvoyant trance the nearness of her perfect cure. "In the hot baths of Battaglia," as she affirmed, "she will quite lose the gift of clairvoyance; take her there at once; her cure is now at hand. Let her have a bath every day early in the morning; after the tenth bath, Emmanuel, the bond between you and her is broken; and she will see you no more, if such is your wish. But leave her some token of remembrance, without which she cannot be perfectly cured. For a long time you have worn round your neck a withered rose in a glass locket, set in gold. In order to prevent a return of the cramps, she must wear it in her own bosom, enclosed in a silk bag. Give it to her exactly at the seventh hour after she has taken her thirteenth bath, neither sooner nor later, and up to that time wear it always. After that she will be quite cured."

She often urged this request with intense anxiety; above all, laying great stress on the hour when I was to give up my sole treasure, the existence of which she had never heard. "Do you really wear such a thing?" asked the Count with surprise, but highly delighted at the announced restoration of his daughter. When I admitted it, he further asked whether this trifle was of any personal value to me. I told him it was the dearest thing I had on earth, and that I would rather die than be deprived of it; yet to save the Countess's life I would sacrifice even that. "I suppose it is a remembrance of some beloved one?" asked the Count, with an inquiring look, and

he seemed anxious to discover whether I had formed any previous attachment. "It comes from one who is my all in all on earth," was my reply.

The Count, touched by my generosity, and pleased that I had resolved upon this sacrifice, on which the continuance of his daughter's health depended, forgot for a moment his ill-humour, and embraced me, which he had not done for a long time, exclaiming "You lay me under the greatest obligations."

His intention, on my retiring when Clementina awoke, was to inform her of the request she had made during her trance; and he did not conceal his conversation regarding the locket, which I valued beyond anything else in the world. He laid great stress upon this, that, in case his daughter really felt any particular regard for me, that regard might be destroyed by the discovery that I had been long attached to another. She, however, heard it with so much indifference,.and seemed so absorbed in the prospect of her complete recovery, that the Count plainly saw he had done his daughter's heart injustice. In his exceeding joy he could not refrain from confessing to me the purport of his conversation with Clementina, informing the Prince at the same time of what had occurred; and from that hour I remarked that the manner of both the Count and the Prince towards me was more frank and kind. I was no longer kept from Clementina's society as before, but treated with attention and consideration as a benefactor to whom all were indebted for their happiness.

Preparations for removal to the baths of Battaglia were speedily made. It was a beautiful spring morning when we quitted Venice. The Prince had gone on before in order to get everything in readiness for the reception of his idolised Countess.

We travelled through the rich plains of Padua, and approached the Euganean Hills, at the foot of which lies the small town with its rich mineral waters. The Countess felt it pleasant now and then to walk a little, and it was my duty to act as her guide. Her kind and cordial manner enchanted me as much as her delicate sense of whatever was noble in man and beautiful in nature. "I could be quite happy," she often said, "if I could spend my days in some sweet retirement in Italy, amid the simple enjoyments of domestic life. The dissipations of great cities leave a void in the heart; they are bewildering rather than satisfactory. How happy should I be to lead a simple life, undisturbed by the foolish vanities of the great world, where people torment themselves about trifles, which they fancy pleasure. If I were only rich enough

to make those around me happy, and to find sources of happiness within myself, I should be quite content."

Frequently, and even in her father's presence, she spoke of her great obligations to me, as the preserver of her life. "If I only knew how I could compensate you!" she used to say. "I have long been labouring to think of something which would please you. One thing

you must consent to, which is, that my father should make you perfectly independent: but that is the least; I myself want to think of some other compensation." At other times she used to refer to my determination to quit her father's house directly she was restored to health. "We shall be extremely sorry to lose you," said she, with great kindness. "We shall lament your loss as that of a faithful friend and benefactor; yet we neither can nor do we wish to shake your resolution by our entreaties to stay longer with us. Your heart calls you elsewhere," added she, with a sly smile, as if initiated into the secret of my affections. "If you are happy there remains nothing for us to wish, and I doubt not that love will make you happy. Yet do not quite forget us, but give us from time to time some account of yourself."

I am as unable to describe what I felt at these words as I am now to repeat the answer I used to make on such occasions. My replies, indeed, were full of cold and polite thanks, for my respect for her forbade me betraying the real sentiments of my heart. And yet there were moments when, overpowered by my feelings, I said more than I wished and so it was, that if I said anything beyond what was polite and flattering, Clementina would look at me with her bright eyes of wondering innocence, as though she did not understand me. I felt assured that she entertained a grateful esteem for me, and wished to see me satisfied and happy, without, however, bestowing upon me any secret preference. It was simply out of pure kindness, and to give me pleasure, that she had selected me as her partner at the ball. She herself confessed that she always expected me to ask her. Ah! and what audacious hopes had not my attachment induced me to form; for even had Clementina felt more for me than common friendship, what good could it have done me? I should only have been more miserable by her being so likewise. Whilst I was thus consumed by ardent love, she was in the enjoyment of tranquil peace. Whilst I was on the point every moment of confessing the depth of my real feelings towards her, she appeared to have no suspicion of their meaning, and endeavoured to dispel my gloom by her lively repartees.

Through the Prince's means there had been apartments prepared