determined to hasten to the mayor's that
night, in spite of Ange's being away, and
obtain his dismissal; for Marguerite felt
quite uneasy at having such a large sum of
money in her possession for fear something
should happen to it before it had
accomplished its end.

And the mayor received Madelaine and
Marguerite very graciously, and was very
glad that they had been able to buy off
Ange; for Ange had a good name in the
town, and all loved him and thought well of
him. And then, very joyfully, Madelaine
and Marguerite walked back to the Bell,
and there they found Ange sitting in the
porch to receive them. And then they all
retired together to Marguerite's little room
and Marguerite told how kind the great
lady had been to her, and how she could not
help thinking that the young Count had told
their story, and interested the great lady in
their behalf; and Marguerite drew from her
pocket the little card which gave Ange his
freedom. And then Madelaine clasped Ange
to her heart, and kissed him again and again;
and Marguerite felt as happy as though she
had been a real queen.

And at that moment came a tap at the
door; and it was dear, kind Dame Ponsard
come to congratulate them on their happiness.
And then Marguerite had to tell her story
all over again; but she did not the least
mind it: she could have told it all day long
—she was so happy.

"But what a pity that thou hast lost thy
cross and thy ear-rings all for nothing," said
Dame Ponsard. Now it was Ange's turn to tell
his story; and he told that he had been all day
on the common, searching for the said ear-rings
and cross: and then, to the great astonishment
and delight of all, he drew them both out of
his pocket, and told how he had found them,
almost hidden by the heather and moss,
where they had fallen when the wind had
blown the handkerchief away. Most joyfully,
he tied the cross round Marguerite's neck,
and put the ear-rings in her ears.

The next morning, early, the travellers
were to start again. Ange and Marguerite
stood ready in the porch, strewing flowers for
them to walk over, and in their hands they
had bouquets of the choicest flowers of their
garden to offer to the Count and Countess;
and Ange and Marguerite waited some time
before they came; but when at last they did
come, and they offered the bouquets, the
Countess smiled so kindly, as she took hers,
and said to Marguerite, "Is this Ange?" and
Marguerite curtsied, and said, "Yes,
madame; this is Ange." And when the
carriages drove away, all the people cheered
them, for they had heard the story of the
great lady's kindness; and Ange and
Marguerite blessed them from their hearts. And,
in after-life, Ange and Marguerite became
man and wife, and in their turn had children;
and Marguerite told her children the story of
her early years, that they might love the
poor and friendless, as Ange had loved her
and her mother.

JUDGE NOT.

JUDGE not; the workings of his brain
    And of his heart thou canst not see;
What looks to thy dim eyes a stain,
    In God's pure light may only be
A scar, brought from some well-won field,
    Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.

The look, the air, that frets thy sight,
    May be a token, that below
The soul has closed in deadly fight
    With some infernal fiery foe,
Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace,
    And cast thee shuddering on thy face!

The fall thou darest to despise—
     May be the slackened angel's hand
Has suffered it, that he may rise
    And take a firmer, surer stand;
Or, trusting less to earthly things,
    May henceforth learn to use his wings.

And judge none lost, but wait, and see
    With hopeful pity, not disdain,
The depth of the abyss may be
    The measure of the height of pain,
And love and glory that may raise
    This soul to God in after days!

WRECKS AT SEA.

THE Wreck Chart of the British Islands for
the year eighteen hundred and fifty-four,
and the last Admiralty register of wrecks,
are grievous things to look at and to read.
In spite of all that has been said about
accidents at sea, they have increased in
frequency; and whether they will be much
diminished by the operation of those clauses
in Mr. Cardwell's Merchant Shipping Act,
which are intended to assist in their
repression, is extremely doubtful. As the
Act only came into operation three months
since (on the first of May last), we can speak
from no experience of its effects. So far as
the prevention of accident is concerned it is
a step in the right direction, though but a
single step, we fear, where there are half a
hundred needed. We feel pretty sure that the
most callous man in England (whoever he
may be) would be startled by the information
given to him at a glance in the Wreck Chart
of Great Britain and Ireland. Total wrecks
are marked on it with black little eclipsed
moons; others, according to their class, with
crosses and other signs; each wreck is
indicated by its proper mark in the sea adjoining
that part of our coast upon which it occurred;
and here on the chart in which the wrecks
only of last year are set down, they lie
blackening our sea along the entire line of
British coast, as thick as bees about a honeycomb.
The swarm is greater of course near
ports than elsewhere. Colliers and craft
of that kind furnish a double file of six and
forty wrecks, half of them total wrecks,