"He is too mean for my contempt," returned his lordship, sternly. No time was lost, and Mr. Morley was alone with Manvers. "Mr. Weston," said he, "it has been reported to Lord that you had consented to accept office under Mr.-. May I ask whether such was really the case?" "The press has reported it," replied he, coolly. "And some of the party, I understand." 66 Very likely, it suited their purpose.” "Overtures, it is said, were made to you, and "But who asserts that I listened to them?" said Manvers, quickly. "No one one in particular that I know of," replied he, "but the report is general." "Granted," returned Manvers, "and what does that prove?simply this, that they wished for me, not that I intended to join them. But to the point at once. I am what I professed to be: if Lord does me the honour to desire my services, let him command them--they are his to the utmost." A few days before the name of Manvers had appeared in the list of the Tory ministry, now it stood conspicuously in that of the Whig. By some it was seen with surprise, by others with contempt, by many with indignation. "To which party does Manvers really belong?" asked Mr. Welsh of his father; "both claim him; what are we to infer?" "That he is necessary to any administration that may be formed," replied Mr. Weston, consequentially. "But what is he himself?" demanded the other. "I am not in his secrets," said Mr. Weston, elevating his shoulders; "all that I can say is this: no one has a right to conclude that a man's mind-every public man's especially—is a block of granite all must keep pace with the times, and he is wisest who rides the current of public opinion, neither attempting to direct nor to stem it." There was a very full house when the members of the reorganized cabinet first took their places. In the course of the evening an attack was made, not only on the measures of the former administration, but also on the conduct of Lord in regard to his affected resignation. Manvers instantly arose, and in a speech of considerable length, and with transcendent eloquence and brilliancy, defended both. The cheering on each side of the House was prolonged for some minutes after he had sat down. It was a proud night for him, and he was unusually elated. As he passed through the lobby he heard the highest encomium of the speech he had just delivered. There were many who, as they recognized him, bowed in token of their admiration, and some who cordially shook hands with him, and congratulated him on what they termed his triumph. He had reached the entrance. It was raining fast, and the night was dark. He had ordered a coach to be called, and was waiting for its coming up. He was in the shade where he stood, as were also two persons who nearly touched him. impossible not to overhear their conversation, of which he himself formed the subject. It was "He is an extraordinary man;" said one, "what a masterpiece of eloquence was his speech this evening! there is not one of his colleagues to be compared to him in talent." A shouting of names prevented Manvers from hearing the remark that was returned, but its nature might be guessed from what followed:- "What reliance is to be placed on him, do you say? As much, probably, as on many against whom no charge of desertion of party has been openly made. He started on the interest he was compelled to support; not, perhaps, that he preferred. Be that as it may, no doubt he has now learnt wisdom enough to remain stanch to his present friends." "Bid but high enough for him," said the other, with a sneer, "and who that likes may buy him." Manvers started, not at the words, but at the voice that uttered. them. He gave an involuntary shudder, dashed through the crowd, and regardless of wind and rain, hurried with rapid steps through the streets, till he reached his splendid-his far too splendid-mansion. [To be continued.] SIR THOMAS MORE was educated as a page with Cardinal Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, about 1490, and the prelate was so struck with his genius that he would often say at dinner, “This child here, waiting at table, is so very ingenious, that he will one day prove an extraordinary man." NEPAUL. THE kingdom of Nepaul, with its snowy mountains and sunny valleys, extends for upwards of three hundred miles along the southern slopes of the loftiest mountain chain in the world, and is said to contain a population of about five millions. But we will at once introduce the reader to our guide and authority on the tour which we propose to take him through this interesting country : "From this position," says Mr. Oliphant, "a panorama, in every respect as magnificent as it was wonderful, stretched itself, if I may so speak, as well above as below me. Northward, and not thirty miles distant, the Himalayas reared their heaven-piercing summits, peak succeeding peak, and crag succeeding crag, far as the eye could reach, from east to west a glittering chain, while here and there the light clouds which hung upon its rocks and precipices became thinned, till they vanished altogether, or, rising in denser masses from some dark valley, obscured the lower portions of the range, only to give relief to the summits and elevate them in appearance-an aid they little needed, for the height of the lowest level of the chain is upwards of fifteen thousand feet. But it was not the actual height of the various peaks, nor the masses of glistening snow which clothed them, brightly reflecting the rays of an almost vertical sun, and tinted by the most brilliant hues, that was the chief cause of wonder and admiration. It was the sharpness of the horizon-line against the serene, clear sky, which displayed precipices and crags of inconceivable grandeur, the overhanging peak looking down some thousands of feet upon the lower part of the range. Had it been possible to calculate upon such a stupendous scale, I felt I was gazing at sheer precipices six thousand or eight thousand feet in depth, for the descent from twenty-five thousand to fifteen thousand feet was not gradual, but the whole line was cragged and notched upon a scale of unsurpassable magnificence and grandeur. . . ... "Turning from this marvellous scene, I looked down upon the placid valley of Nepaul. Its four rivers appeared like silver threads, winding their way amidst rich cultivation to swell the waters of the parent Bhagmutty. Blooming and verdant, the populcus plain lay embosomed in lofty mountains, shut out as it were from the cares of the world. It seemed a Paradise on earth, with an approach to heaven of its own along the summit of Gosain Than." Katmandu is the capital of Nepaul. It is surrounded by a wall, and its long, narrow streets are fairly paved, though only some of them would admit the passage of a carriage. The shops which are on the ground-floor have the whole front open, and the merchant sits in the midst of his wares. The outside front of the houses generally presents a mass of wood-carving, each small window being surrounded by a border two or three feet broad. Curious balconies are formed under the projecting eaves, which form a sort of small room. The durbar, or palace of the king, is situated in a great square, which also contains various pagodas. The palace is a gaudy, straggling building, almost European in its style, and close to it is a huge, deformed image of Siva, sitting in an uncomfortable position on a square stone, and violently gesticulating with her fourteen arms. The Chinese-featured Newars, or aborigines of the country, dress in a short coat, of a cotton fabric produced by a tree in the country, and reaching about half-way to the knees; but in the colder months they wear home-spun woollen clothes. The coat of the women is longer than that of the men, and a sort of bodice is generally worn beneath it-a white shawl wrapped round the waist forms another item of a very ungraceful costume. The females have a debased and squalid look, and their appearance corresponds, there is too much reason to fear, with their character. The Ghorkas-the conquerors of Nepaul-are a handsome race, who absurdly pride themselves upon being able to do nothing but fight. Mr. Oliphant had no opportunity of seeing the females of the higher orders of either race, and indeed very few noble families of the Newars remain. In one of the temples which Mr. Oliphant visited, he saw a curious spectacle: pots, pans, dusty-looking musical instruments, goods and chattels of all descriptions were thrust together indiscriminately beneath the projecting roof of the pagoda. This heterogeneous collection consisted of the unclaimed goods of worshippers who had died without known heirs. Of the temple of Sumboonath we read: "The Dagoba resembles the temple of Bhood, but is only about half its size; the spire is covered with plates of copper, gilt. It is surrounded by pagodas, as well as numerous more modern shrines of a bastard Hindoo class, to which Bhootyas and Bhamas, a tribe of Newars, resort in great numbers. Occasionally the Ghorkas visit these shrines; the thunderbolt of Indra, which is here exhibited, being, I suppose the object of attraction to them, as they pride themselves on being orthodox Hindoos. "This collection of temples is surrounded by rickety old houses, inhabited by Bhootyas and priests. All around small images sit upon wet stones, holding in their hands everlasting tapers, and look out of their niches upon the dirty worshippers who smother them with faded flowers. Turning our backs upon the little divinities, we obtained the first panoramic view we had yet had of the valley and city of Katmandu. "The valley is of an oval shape; its circumference is nearly fifty miles, and the hills by which it is enclosed vary from one to two thousand feet in height. Sheopoorie, the most lofty of these, is clothed to the summit with evergreen jungle, and rises abruptly behind the town. Behind it the fantastically-shaped Jib Jibia shows its craggy summit thickly powdered with snow, while the still loftier Gosain Than, at a distance of about thirty miles, rears its ever-white and glittering peak to a height of twentyfive thousand feet, and seems majestically to preside over this glorious scene. "The town of Katmandu, situated at the junction of the Bhagmutty and Bishmutty, and containing a population of fifty thousand inhabitants, lay spread at our feet, and we could discern the passengers on the narrow fragile-looking bridges which span the two rivers, at this time containing scarcely any water. Innumerable temples, Bhuddist and Hindoo, and mixtures of both, occupied hillocks, or were situated near the sacred fonts or groves with which the valley abounds, and which add much to the beauty of its appearance. The number of the edifices affords strong proof of the superstition of the people, and warrants the remark of Colonel Kirkpatrick, who says, 'that there seem to be in Nepaul as many shrines as houses, and as many idols as inhabitants.' . . . "There is not, I conceive, any other mountainous country in the world that can boast of possessing so favoured a spot. Throughout its whole length and breadth not a stone is to be found: it is well watered; its temperature is delightful, the thermometer in the hottest month seldom reaches 75°, in the coldest never falls below 30°; it is sufficiently near the tropics to rejoice in the presence of the warm bright sun even in the depth of winter, while the proximity of the ever snow-capped 'Himaleh' prevents the heat being too severely felt in the middle of summer. It rarely freezes in the valley, and never snows, although the hills around, some of which do not exceed one thousand feet, are frequently powdered." Oaks, chestnuts, pines, and other English forest-trees flourish here, and European vegetables may be grown to perfection. Iron, lead, copper, and zinc mines abound in Nepaul, but of their qualities and productiveness we are not able to speak. There are mines of sulphur, and, it is said, of antimony and corundum; figure-stone and talc are Nepaulese minerals. Turmeric, wax, honey, resin, pepper, and cardamoms are amongst the exports; but the difficulty of transport and the state of the people are a great barrier to trade. Immense quantities of salt are imported into Nepaul over the Himalayas on the backs of sheep. The silver coinage of the country is somewhat similar to that of British India, in whose northern provinces it passes current. The copper coinage consists of shapeless lumps of copper, eighteen or twenty of which go to a halfpenny. A narrow strip of territory, about twenty miles in breadth, extends for three hundred miles along the northern frontier of British India. This tract, which is a dead level, is called the Terai. The first ten miles of its breadth is chiefly used for grazing by the inhabitants of the adjoining British provinces, who drive |