SCIENTIFIC AMUSEMENTS. Method of obtaining flowers of different colours on the same stem.-Split a small twig of the elder bush lengthways, and having scooped out the pith, fill each of the compartments with seeds of flowers of different sorts, but which blossom about the same time; surround them with mould, and then, tying together the two bits of wood, plant the whole in a pot filled with earth properly prepared. The stems of the different flowers will thus be so incorporated as to exhibit to the eye only one stem, throwing out branches covered with flowers analogous to the seed which produced them. CHARADE. My first of unity's a sign My second, ere we know to plant, We used upon my whole to dine, If all be true that poets chaunt. ENGLISH COUNTIES; HISTORICAL First him whose head a tribune took, Three battles his-the fourth his foe's, To quit his farm and peaceful home, The death he should have given, meet? But the three last was forced to buy. For cheese renown'd, and also where TRANSPOSITIONS. There is a thing, I must not tell, If you can find it, take it; Transpose this fiend, a drink you have Transpose the thief, and take the slave, Transpose the cause the land endures EDITED BY HERR HARRWITZ. PROBLEM No. IX.-By A. G. M'COMBE, Esq.-White to move, and mate in three moves. White-Mr. M'Combe. 1. K. P. 2. 2. K. Kt. to B. 3. 3. B. to Q. B. 4. (a) 4. Q. Kt. to B. 3. 5. K. Kt. to Kt. 5. 6. Kt. takes B. 7. B. takes P. 8. Q. P. 1. 9. B. to Q. Kt. 3. 10. Q. B. to K. Kt. 5. 11. Kt. to Q. 5. 12. K. B. takes Kt. 13. B. takes Kt. 14. Q. B. P. 1. 15. Q. R. P. 1. 16. Q. Kt. P. 2. 17. P. takes P. 18. Q. R. to Kt. 19. Q. to K. R. 5. 20. Q. to K. B. 5. ch. 21. Castles. 22. R. to Kt. 2. 23. K. R. to Q. Kt. Black-Mr. 1. Q. B. P. 2. 4. K. Kt. to B. 3. (b) 11. Q. Kt. takes Kt. 23. Q. to K. 2. 24. R. to Kt. 5. 27. R. takes Q. R. P. 28. R. to R. 6. 24. B. to Q. 7. 29. Q. to K. R. 7. ch. NOTES TO GAME IX. (a) White is right in not taking the K. P., since he must have lost his own by Black's playing Q to K 2, followed, if necessary, by Q. P. 1. (b) He ought to have played B. to K. 2, before playing out Kt. (c) Q. P. 1 would have been better now. (d) From this point to the end White plays in quite a masterly style, and as the position, though ever changing, is of unvarying interest, we engage the student to examine it carefully after every move. (e) R. to R. 7. would have been equally good. ELLEN LYNDHURST; A TALE OF TRIAL AND TRIUMPH. (Continued from page 125.) CHAPTER X. AN OLD BACHELOR'S STORY. self may be called upon to fill the place of so good a man as you are." "No compliments, Charles, no compliments," said the Squire; "they have no effect upon me. I am not so good a man as I ought to, have been. I have led a life of almost aimless existence,—have been content to be, and have not endeavoured to do. To be sure, by some trifling acts of charity I have diffused comforts around me, and have been blessed by the grateful smiles of the poor. Still, charity, in old WELL, Charles," said the Squire, one morning at the breakfast-table, "the time has nearly arrived for your departure. But before you go, my boy, I must talk with you upon some matters of import-age, is but a poor compensation for use ance." "I shall be most happy," replied Charles. He had long been looking forward to this occasion. But where is Mrs. Davis this morning?" 66 Why, Charles, knowing that I wished to speak with you upon some matters of privacy, she has prudently absented herself." "All the better," thought Charles. "You know, my boy," continued the Squire, "that I am getting old, and that I have no right to expect a greater clemency from the laws of Nature than my fellow creatures. It becomes me, therefore, to make some settlement of my wordly affairs, -and like every man in my position, I am anxious to find a successor who will honour the line from which he inherits his privileges. But beyond this, as I have led a retired and frugal life, to such an extent as almost to be deemed an eccentric, and as fortune has been singularly kind to me, and enriched my possessions far beyond my merits or expectations, I feel that in the last important act of my life, I must secure such a disposal of my property as will prove to the world that I have not lived in vain." "Your motives are very nobie," said Charles, submissively. "By law you are my heir," said the Squire. Charles was all attention. lessness in youth and in the vigour of life. Like many others too many, unfortunately-I shall have to pass from the world, having left behind me no great work to mark my existence, save it be the great mistake of doing nothing, and proving to those who may see my end, how a life full of glorious opportunities may be thrown away." "I fear you do yourself injustice, sir," said Charles. 66 'No, not so. Good as your future life may be great as may be the works that you achieve when, towards the last, you sit down and contemplate the grave, and take the pen in your hand to settle your account with the world, you will feel, as I feel now, that there are many things to regret, and to ask the pardon of Heaven for." Charles bowed acquiescence. "But there were some causes in my youth, Charles, of which you know nothing. People call me an old bachelor; and in times gone by, before I passed the age of love, not a day was added to my lot, that I was not taunted with being dead to the susceptibilities of the heart. I did, however, love once, Charles. Loved aye with all the deep devotion of which the human heart is capable. The lady of my choice was one of gentle blood, tall. handsome, graceful-too beautiful, in fact, for me-it must have been a mad ambition that made me woo her. I thought she loved me-she said she did; both by word and pen, her avowals breathed the most ardent attachment. Our marriage was talked of; the day almost fixed, when, at a splendid assembly, given in honour of "Sir, you honour me," said Charles; the coronation of the late king, she met "still, I ardently hope that the day may be with one of his majesty's officers, who far distant when one so unworthy as my-poured the poison of flattery into her ear; 'But I have the right of willing my property to whomsoever I please,"-Charles was all excitement " Yet I recognise in you, Charles, the person whom by choice I would name as my successor; the law of the heart, and the law of the land unite to secure you in this position." VOL. VIII.-NO. XCI. L I and polluted with his foul influences the heart, until that moment, chaste and pure. I was then a young country squire, and perhaps bore about me plebeian marks which my rural life imparted to me. I was born to love, but not to dazzle. had no affected accent of speech. I employed none of the artifices of the toilette to beautify myself. I could not lie and flatter, and had no trappings of royal livery to decorate my person. My rival had all these; and he trampled upon my hopes, crushed them in a night; for from that time a change came over the angel I had loved,—every act of mine displeased her. My calls were at inconvenient hours, at last they were pronounced too frequent. I reminded her of the ardent love that had subsisted between us, and warned her against tempta- | tion. She laughed, and said that the love she had professed, and perhaps slightly entertained, was a mere girlish freak-and that I ought to know enough of human nature to have understood it as such! She was so dear to me, that I lost my senses, when I heard the object of my affection thus coldly disavow me, and smile at the sufferings she had caused. I became for a time simple and unmanly;-I still sought her, and implored, if not her love, her pity. The humiliation I put upon myself injured me still more in her estimation, until at last she treated me with contempt. Five years of my life were lost in a miserable state of torpor,-in which I neither saw, felt, nor heard, but moved about like an automaton, affording mirth, I suppose, to the giddy crowd around me. During this time she married! Before half the period was over, she was deserted; having led a life of utter wretchedness from her wedding-day. The news was brought to me by a friend whom I had not seen for some years,--and who thought that I should find in these facts an acceptable revenge. No! my heart loved her still, Charles; and I am proud only of this one quality in myself,-that I cannot cherish hatred, even when I suffer wrong. The heart that loved her first, loved her through every change, through the grave to heaven! She was deserted-left with two children-penniless! I awoke from my torpor. I sought her out,-not in person, Charles, but through a secret agency, which never broke my confidence. She and her children were supported by an unknown hand. Often she begged to know her benefactor; and sometimes refused to receive the never-failing aid, unless she was made acquainted with its source. She would probably have kept this resolution, but for her children's sake. Many times she would say, to the friend I employed, that she knew me to be the giver, and she wept over the sorrows she had caused me. She begged that I would see and forgive her. I had forgiven her, unasked; but for my own peace, and for the honour of mankind, would not see her. I have loved her in solitude ever since. At length she died; and, after her death, a letter was brought to me, written in her last hour. It acknowledged that she had loved me deeply,—that she had been dazzled by flattery, and fell under the influence of temptation; but that in her second attachment her heart had sinned against itself, as well as against me. Giving me her last blessing, she died!" The old man was so overcome with these sad memories of blighted hope, that he concealed his face and wept. "I ought not," he continued, "to have troubled you with all this; but it is a tale of facts, which influenced my own life to such a degree, that, as I am about to speak to you concerning your future welfare, I thought it might assist the purpose I have in view." Charles wondered intensely at the import of the old man's words. "In making you my heir, Charles, I am anxious not to exercise an undue influence over you. Nor should I have ventured to touch upon such a subject at all, but that I am aware of your having already avowed sentiments which delight me very much. I should like to see you married, Charles; married to a lady in whom there is no weakness, no deception. One who possesses solid religious principle; who loves God with all her soul, and who will ground her duties as a wife upon her responsibility to God, as well as upon her love for the object to which she is united. Such an union, Charles, will make you truly happy; and in the hands of two people, affectionate to each other, and benevolent to all around them, I can have no fear that the riches I shall leave behind me, will be a source of A confused feeling passed over Charles's ind. He stood in the midst of a lemma. That which he had commenced a foolish freak, now assumed a serious pect. He really bore no love towards llen, and only sought to make a conquest er the heart of a simple girl-a sort of ing he had many times done before. knew, however, that he must not trifle th his uncle's feelings, especially as he $ so keenly sensitive of a deception actised upon himself. So he determined accept the conditions, and treat the ficulty afterwards as he best could. "You have spoken just as my own art would have dictated," said Charles, th an air of much composure. 'Then all is understood," said the pire. "Before your departure we will end an evening with Mr. Lyndhurst and len, when matters will naturally disclose emselves without much formality. But tween ourselves, the understanding is stinctly this, that you marry Ellen, and en become heir to my estates, that u may punctually carry out the motives d feelings which you now sufficiently derstand." "Precisely so," said Charles; "and let e express my deep obligations to you for ur high consideration." They shook inds heartily, and the subject for the resent was concluded. The reader must not imagine that the ad here detailed has been abruptly arrived Charles and Ellen had many other leetings than those which have been escribed in our pages, and the Squire and Mr. Lyndhurst had several times deliberated upon the subject. Even Mrs. Davis's opinion had been consulted. The old lady entertained a high opinion of Ellen, as did everybody around her; and though her faith in the young Squire, as she already called him, had been somewhat shaken by a few unaccountable incidents which came under her notice, she was desirous of making a suitable match for Miss Ellen, in whose favour she knew she would always occupy a high place. Mr. Lyndhurst had examined his daughter with much anxiety. He found that she was really impressed with a strong attachment for Charles, and that his declarations to her appeared ardent and honest. He therefore resigned the plans he had in his daughter to the attachment thus formed, and centered the hopes of a loving father in the prospects of such a union. CHAPTER XI. OPEN CONFESSION.-REVELATION OF IN a few days Charles had returned to London, and was again moving amongst his former acquaintances. He had certainly succeeded in his visit to Windmere, so far as his present purposes were concerned, for the Squire upon his departure handed him a cheque for a thousand pounds. He therefore returned to town "in high feather," and soon forgot the lessons of prudence and economy that had been read to him. In a large and elegant room, at the hour of midnight, beneath the dazzling light of brilliant chandeliers, sat Charles Langford, surrounded by a party of "friends." They knew of his visit to Windmere, its purpose, and its success, and just at this moment he was a "great gun," among them. There was a Captain Dent,—a tall man with large black mustachios, and a true military air. He leant against a massive marble mantel piece, twirled his mustachios, and drank brandy-and-water. There was a Count Smoleski,-a tall and slender man, with extremely pale countenance and large black eyes; he stretched himself upon a lounge, and attempted to crack jokes in broken English. There was a Lord Elleswood,—a round fat man, with purple face and aldermanic cut of body, who sat |