sorrow which dims and confuses the page
before us. His worst enemies could never
have contemplated anything so sad as this.
Many, indeed, have already relented,–––but let
their interceding voices be heard before it is
too late.

The literary men of no country are united,
or they might move the whole kingdom. Still
less are the literary men of different countries
united, or they might move the world. But
are they, therefore, without a common
sympathy for one another? We are sure this is
not the case; and making this appeal to the
literary men of England, we believe it will
not be in vain. Nor are we without hope,
that a strong sympathy of this kind, being
duly and respectfully made known to the
King of Prussia, or to Baron Manteufel, the
Minister of the Interior, may induce His
Majesty to consider that, the revolution being
at an end, clemency is not only the "brightest
jewel in a crown," but its noblest strength,
and that, while royal power can lose nothing,
it must gain honour by remitting all further
punishment of one who has only shared in
the political offence of thousands who are
now at liberty. All that the friends, at home
and abroad, of Gottfried Kinkel ask is––– his
liberation from prison, and a permission to
emigrate to England or America.

   THE DOOM OF ENGLISH WILLS.

      CATHEDRAL NUMBER THREE.

THE core of the inquiry which Mr.
William Wallace had at heart, lay imbedded in
the depositories of unimpeachable Ecclesiastical
Registry number three. To the city of
that See he therefore repaired, warmed by
that flaming zeal which only burns in the
breast of an earnest antiquary, and which no
amount of disappointment can quench. Though
sanguine, even for an antiquity-hunter, the
hopes which rebounded from his previous
failures, sunk within him, when he remembered
that whereas he was in former instances
fortified with letters of recommendation–––
almost of command–––from the Bishops of
each Diocese; on this occasion, he had to
fight single-handed, (like another St. George,)
the dragons that "guarded" the treasures he
sought. He had no better introduction to the
third Deputy-Registrar than an honest
purpose; and, his former experience taught him
that that was about as unpromising an usher
into such a Presence as could be imagined.
Mr. Wallace therefore commenced this new
attack with no strong presentiment of success.

Strengthened with an ally, in the person of
a friendly attorney, Mr. William Wallace
marched boldly to the great functionary's
house, a splendid edifice in the Cathedral
Close, with thirty-three windows in front,
extensive grounds behind, detached stables
and a tasteful boat-house at the edge of what
is here called the "Minster Pool."

Into this great house of a great man, Mr.
William Wallace was ushered by his friend.
Nothing could exceed the obsequiousness of
the man of law, and great was the civility of
the man of wills. The interview was going on
pleasantly and the antiquary was beginning
to believe that at last he had found a pattern
Deputy-Registrar, when the lawyer happened
to mention that Mr. William Wallace was a
literary man. Mr. Wallace felt that this
would be fatal and it was so. He knew the
condign contempt Ecclesiastical Registrars
entertained for the literary world, from the
little circumstance of hearing only the week
before in another Registry, the most eminent
historian of the present day, and our best
archaic topographer, designated as " contemptible
penny-a-liners." Mr. Wallace was therefore
not at all astonished when the Deputy-
Registrar folded up his smiling countenance
into a frown. He evidently knew what was
coming. Literary men never pay, and Mr,
William Wallace wanted to consult 'his'
registers gratis.

When this shrewd surmise was, by a word
from the attorney, realised, the Registrar
struggled hard to smoothe his face again to a
condition of bland composure; but in vain. The
wound which had pierced through his pocket,
rankled within. The depravity of literary
people in endeavouring to dig and delve for
historical information without paying for the
privilege of benefitting the public by their
researches, was too abominable! The
Registrar was so good as to say that he would
grant Mr. Wallace the privilege of consulting
any wills he pleased on the usual terms:
namely, two shillings and sixpence for every
document.

With this condescending permission (which,
placed Mr. Wallace on exactly the same
footing as the great body of the public which
had not done itself the honour of visiting
the Deputy-Registrar) he repaired to the
Searching Office. The point he had set
himself to ascertain at this Cathedral Registry
number three, hinged upon an authentic
attestation of the decease of the father of a
distinguished general under Charles the First. The
name was a very common one in the diocese,
and of course continually occurred in the
index. Will after will was produced by the
clerks; half-crown after half-crown fell glibly
out of Mr. Wallace's pocket. Still no success.
Of all the namesakes of the person sought,
who had become testators in the early part
of the seventeenth century, the one particular
testator whose last act and deed Mr. Wallace
sought, was not to be found. This proved
an expensive day. Mr. Wallace had had to
pay, in the course of it, twenty-five pounds;
although he was not allowed, as at the other
places, to make a single extract.

For this large sum Mr. Wallace gained
nothing but materials for a little wholesome
criticism on the indexes or calendars. Some
of the Wills in this Registry are dated as