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and Diamonds," "Marchionesses and Milliners," etc., etc.

      Crinoline. By Je-mes Pl-sh, Esq.

      The Stars and Stripes. By the Author of "The Last of the Mulligans," "Pilot," etc.

      A Plan for a Prize Novel

      THE DIARY OF C. JEAMES DE LA PLUCHE, ESQ., WITH HIS LETTERS.

      A Lucky Speculator

      The Diary

      Jeames on Time Bargings

      Jeames on the Gauge Question

      Mr. Jeames Again

      THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF MAJOR GAHAGAN.

      I. "Truth is Strange, Stranger than Fiction"

      II. Allyghur and Laswaree

      III. A Peep into Spain.--Account of the Origin and Services of the Ahmednuggar Irregulars

      IV. The Indian Camp--the Sortie from the Fort

      V. The Issue of my Interview with my Wife

      VI. Famine in the Garrison

      VII. The Escape

      VIII. The Captive

      IX. Surprise of Futtyghur

      A LEGEND OF THE RHINE.

      I. Sir Ludwig of Hombourg

      II. The Godesbergers

      III. The Festival

      IV. The Flight

      V. The Traitor's Doom

      VI. The Confession

      VII. The Sentence

      VIII. The Childe of Godesberg

      IX. The Lady of Windeck

      X. The Battle of the Bowmen

      XI. The Martyr of Love

      XII. The Champion

      XIII. The Marriage

      REBECCA AND ROWENA; A ROMANCE UPON ROMANCE.

      CHAPTER

      I. The Overture--Commencement of the Business

      II. The Last Days of the Lion

      III. St. George for England

      IV. Ivanhoe Redivivus

      V. Ivanhoe to the Rescue

      VI. Ivanhoe the Widower

      VII. The End of the Performance

      THE HISTORY OF THE NEXT FRENCH REVOLUTION.

      I. --

      II. Henry V. and Napoleon III

      III. The Advance of the Pretenders--Historical Review

      IV. The Battle of Rheims

      V. The Battle of Tours

      VI. The English under Jenkins

      VII. The Leaguer of Paris

      VIII. The Battle of the Forts

      IX. Louis XVII

      COX'S DIARY.

      The Announcement

      First Rout

      A Day with the Surrey Hounds

      The Finishing Touch

      A New Drop-Scene at the Opera

      Striking a Balance

      Down at Beulah

      A Tournament

      Over-Boarded and Under-Lodged

      Notice to Quit

      Law Life Assurance

      Family Bustle

      NOVELS BY EMINENT HANDS.

      GEORGE DE BARNWELL

      BY SIR E. L. B. L., BART.

      VOL I.

      In the Morning of Life the Truthful wooed the Beautiful, and their offspring was Love. Like his Divine parents, He is eternal. He has his Mother's ravishing smile; his Father's steadfast eyes. He rises every day, fresh and glorious as the untired Sun-God. He is Eros, the ever young. Dark, dark were this world of ours had either Divinity left it--dark without the day-beams of the Latonian Charioteer, darker yet without the daedal Smile of the God of the Other Bow! Dost know him, reader?

      Old is he, Eros, the ever young. He and Time were children together. Chronos shall die, too; but Love is imperishable. Brightest of the Divinities, where hast thou not been sung? Other worships pass away; the idols for whom pyramids were raised lie in the desert crumbling and almost nameless; the Olympians are fled, their fanes no longer rise among the quivering olive-groves of Ilissus, or crown the emerald-islets of the amethyst Aegean! These are gone, but thou remainest. There is still a garland for thy temple, a heifer for thy stone. A heifer? Ah, many a darker sacrifice. Other blood is shed at thy altars, Remorseless One, and the Poet Priest who ministers at thy Shrine draws his auguries from the bleeding hearts of men!

      While Love hath no end, Can the Bard ever cease singing? In Kingly and Heroic ages, 'twas of Kings and Heroes that the Poet spake. But in these, our times, the Artisan hath his voice as well as the Monarch. The people To-Day is King, and we chronicle his woes, as They of old did the sacrifice of the princely Iphigenia, or the fate of the crowned Agamemnon.

      Is Odysseus less august in his rags than in his purple? Fate, Passion, Mystery, the Victim, the Avenger, the Hate that harms, the Furies that tear, the Love that bleeds, are not these with us Still? are not these still the weapons of the Artist? the colors of his palette? the chords of his lyre? Listen! I tell thee a tale--not of Kings--but of Men--not of Thrones, but of Love, and Grief, and Crime. Listen, and but once more. 'Tis for the last time (probably) these fingers shall sweep the strings.

      E. L. B. L.

      NOONDAY IN CHEPE.

      'Twas noonday in Chepe. High Tide in the mighty River City!--its banks wellnigh overflowing with the myriad-waved Stream of Man! The toppling wains, bearing the produce of a thousand marts; the gilded equipage of the Millionary; the humbler, but yet larger vehicle from the green metropolitan suburbs (the Hanging Gardens of our Babylon), in which every traveller might, for a modest remuneration, take a republican seat; the mercenary caroche, with its private freight; the brisk curricle of the letter-carrier, robed in royal scarlet: these and a thousand others were laboring and pressing onward, and locked and bound and hustling together in the narrow channel of Chepe. The imprecations of the charioteers were terrible. From the noble's broidered hammer-cloth, or the driving-seat of the common coach, each driver assailed the other with floods of ribald satire. The pavid matron within the one vehicle (speeding to the Bank for her semestrial pittance) shrieked and trembled; the angry Dives hastening to his office (to add another thousand to his heap,) thrust his head over the blazoned panels, and displayed an eloquence of objurgation which his very Menials could not equal; the dauntless street urchins, as they gayly threaded the Labyrinth of Life, enjoyed the perplexities and quarrels of the scene, and exacerbated the already furious combatants by their poignant infantile satire. And the Philosopher, as he regarded the hot strife and struggle of these Candidates in the race for Gold, thought with a sigh of the Truthful and the Beautiful, and walked on, melancholy and serene.

      'Twas noon in Chepe. The ware-rooms were thronged. The flaunting

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