I think, nay, am sure, that I speak the language of all present in telling you I love you:" (an enormous hear-hearing, which rose above the drawing-room floor; Harry Clements singularly distinguished himself, in proving how he loved his father; a fine young fellow he grows too, and I wish, between ourselves, to catch him for a son-in-law some day;)--"Yes, Clements, I do love you, and your children, and your wife, for there is the charm of heart about you all: in yourself, in your Maria, in that fine frank youth, and those dear warm girls up stairs" (every word was bravoed to the echo), "in every one of you, all the charities and amenities, all the kindnesses and the cheerfulness of life appear to be embodied; you love both God and man; the rich and the poor alike may bless you, Clements, and your admirable Maria; whilst, as for yourselves, you may both well thank God, whose mercy made you what you are." Clements hid his face, and Harry sobbed with joyfulness.
"Friends! a toast and sentiment, with all the honours: 'This happy family! and may all who know them now, or come to hear of them in future, cultivate as they do all the home affections, and acknowledge that there is no wealth of man's, which may compare with riches of the heart.'" THE END OF HEART.
* * * * * AN AUTHOR'S MIND; THE BOOK OF TITLE-PAGES: "A BOOKFUL OF BOOKS," OR "THIRTY BOOKS IN ONE." EDITED BY M.F.TUPPER, ESQ., M.A.
"En un mot, mes amis, je n'ai entrepris de vous contenter tous en general; ainsi, une et autres en particulier; et par special, moymeme."-- PASQUIER.
* * * * * SUBJECTS.
PAGE.
The Author's Mind; a ramble 331 Nero, a tragedy 353 Opium, a history 361 Charlotte Clopton, a novel 364 The Marvellous, a hand-book 371 Psychotherion, an argument 376 The Confessional, a tale 377 The Prior of Marrick, an autobiography 379 The Seven Churches, a dissertation 384 Revision, an essay 386 Homely Expositions, a compilation 386 Lay Sermons, a contribution 386 Scriptural Physics, a treatise 387 Heathenism, an apology 387 Biblical Similes, an investigation 389 Home, an epic 390 Grecian Sayings, a series 398 Heptalogia, a collection 400 Alfred, an oratorio 403 Alfred's Life, a translation 406 National Memorials, a proposal 408 Politics, a manual 411 Woman, a subject 414 False Steps, a pamphlet 415 King's Evidence, a satire 417 Poetics, a melange 422 Humoristics, a medley 423 Journals, a decade 426 Lay Hints, an appeal 427 Anti-Xurion, a crusade 431 The Squire, a portraiture 434 The Author's Tribunal, an oration 437 Zoilomastrix, a title 443 Epilogue, a conclusion 443 Appendix, an after-thought 445 ANNOUNCEMENT.
BY THE EDITOR.
The writer of this strange book (a particular friend of mine) came to me a few mornings ago with a very happy face and a very blotty manuscript.
"Congratulate me," he began, "on having dispersed an armada of head-aches hitherto invincible, on having exorcised my brain of its legionary spectres, and brushed away the swarming thoughts that used to persecute my solitude; I can now lie down as calmly as the lamb, and rise as gayly as the lark; instead of a writhing Laocoon, my just-found Harlequin's wand has changed me into infant Hercules brandishing his strangled snakes; I have mowed, for the nonce, the docks, mallows, hogweed, and wild-parsley of my rank field, and its smooth green carpet looks like a rich meadow; I am free, happy, well at ease: argal, an thou lovest me, congratulate." Wider and wider still stared out my wonder, to hear my usually sober friend so voluble in words and so profuse of images: I saw at once it was a set speech, prepared for an impromptu occasion; nevertheless, as he was clearly in an enviable state of disenthraldom from thoughtfulness, I graciously accorded him a sympathetic smile.

And then this more than Gregorian cure for the head-ache! here was an anodyne infinitely precious to one so brain-feverish as I: had all this pleasure and comfort arisen from such common-place remedials as a dear young lover's courtesy or a deceased old miser's codicil, I should long ago have heard all about it; for, between ourselves, my friend was never known to keep a secret.

There was evidently more than this in the discovery; and when my curiosity, provoked by his laughing silence, was naturally enough exhibiting itself in a "What on earth---- ?" he broke out with the abruptness of an Abernethy, "Read my book." Well, I did read it; and, in candid disparagement, as amicably bound, can readily believe what I was told afterwards, that, to except a very small portion of older material, it had been at chance intervals rapidly thrown off in a couple of months, (the old current-quill style,) chiefly with the view of relieving a too prolific brain: it appeared to me a mere idle overflowing of the brimful mind; an honest, indeed, but often useless exposure of multifarious fancies--some good, some bad, and not a few indifferent; an incautious uncalled-for confession of a thousand thoughts, little worth the printing, if the very writing were not indeed superfluous.

Nevertheless, with all its faults, I thought the book a novelty, and liked it not the less for its off-hand fashion; it had something of the free, fresh, frank air of an old-school squire at Christmas-tide, suggestive as his misletoe, cheerful as his face, and careless as his hospitality.

Knowing then that my friend had been more than once an author--indeed, he tells us so himself--and perceiving, from innumerable symptoms, that he meditated putting also this before the world, I thought kindly to anticipate his wishes by proposing its publication: but I was rather curtly answered with a "Did I suppose these gnats were intended to be shrined in amber?
these mere minnows to be treated with the high consideration due only to potted char and white bait?
these fleeting thoughts fixed in stone before that Gorgon-head, the public?
these ephemeral fancies dropped into the true elixir of immortality, printer's-ink?
these----" I stopped him, for this other mighty mouthful of images betrayed the hypocrite--"Yes, I did." An involuntary smile assured me he did too, and the cause proceeded thus: first, a promise not to burn the book; then a Bentley to the rescue, with accessory considerations; and then, the due administration of a little wholesome flattery: by this time we had obtained permission, after modest reluctance pretty well enacted, to transform the deformity of manuscript into the well-proportioned elegance of print.