These conditions are the only ones on which I will consent to remain in London one hour, said Miss Rivers.

My last letters from Paris say that Hoche cannot leave with more than five thousand men and forty thousand stand of arms, but more troops will follow immediately. This number of men is entirely too small; we must have twenty thousand men and one hundred thousand stand of arms at once. We have three hundred thousand men enrolled, all of whom meet nightly in numbers not exceeding twelve persons, to which number all assemblies are limited by English law. The lower lodge of twelve men are called lodge A, and the next above, lodge B, and the next lodge C. Lodge A sends one man to lodge B, and lodge B sends one to lodge C. In this organization of twelve men, is concentrated a centralized government of United Irishmen, and a more systematic arrangement was never effected. The whole is based on the Catholic hierarchy, with the Pope, Cardinals, Bishops, Priests, Friars, and the laity, and has exactly the same secret construction, and the same holy object, said Lord Fitzgerald.

Are you sure of success if France performs her part of the contract? asked Miss Rivers.

Absolutely sure, said Lord Fitzgerald.

You must reflect that England is yet powerful, although contending against half the world. Ireland is not unanimous; the most wealthy classes, and nearly all the Protestants, are against you. The civil war will be horrible! It will be the most fatal war that the passions ever kindled, and extermination to one party is almost certain. Is it not possible that Ireland, divided as she is, and opposed by England, may have to yield to superior power? If Ireland should be vanquished, what will be the fate of all your patriotic friends? Are they willing to risk their lives in the cause? If Ireland does succeed, can two powerful nations live in peace, separated on

ly by a few miles of ocean? Will there not be perpetual war between them ? asked Miss Rivers.

There will be a contin

Your question is a natural one. ual war-a war of extermination! This condition is the very one that we desire to effect. We intend to destroy every Englishman, and re-people England with our own countrymen-first giving England to pillage! There will be no peace now, or ever, till this is accomplished-and Ireland to a man is sworn to effect it, or die in the attempt! The Catholics of Ireland did not embrace the reformation, and there is, and ever will be, a deadly feud between the two nations, I fear, unless one is exterminated, said Lord Fitzgerald.

Col. Wellesly is now in the adjoining room; what would be his feelings if he were to hear our conversation? The Colonel has acquired a great name in India, and is undoubtedly the greatest commander of this or any other age. I shall be sorry to see him leading an army against Ireland, or against France!

You will excuse my feelings-but I have resided so long in France, (having been educated with the sons of the Duke of Orleans,) I could not fail to partake of the sentiments of those around me. Whatever my feelings for England once were, my sympathy now is with France, and I do sincerely desire to see her, and Ireland, and all the nations, enjoying the liberty of a free democratic Constitution-like the great American nation. But when I look at the sea of blood, through which France, beloved France, and poor devoted Ireland, are to find their way to a better social position, I must say to you, my heart bleeds, and I hesitate as to the course that duty shall indicate. What is to be the fate of beloved, adored France ?

Afterward Duke of Wellington.

Oh that I could but see peace and happiness restored, and a mild Government ruling over an injured people! I do believe that a great conflict is approaching that will astonish the world! Happy will it be if some name yet unknown, shall lead these nations through the horrors that I sometimes see approaching.

My Lord, I sometimes think that your military genius is destined to light up a new era in your country's greatness.Are you sure that you are in the right path to the eminence that you would die to attain? Is W. Tone the man for your country's idol? Are all of your associates men of honor, and are they led by high motives, and have they the talents on which Ireland can rest, when victory and independence are achieved.

There is one name that I could wish to see rising to eminence associated with Col. Wellesly! I need not name him! I have had frequent conversations with Col. Wellesly, and I am sure he possesses a genius of the highest order. His country is the idol of his worship, and his soul is lighted up with an enthusiasm that seems burning for the battle-field, in which his country is to gain immortal honors, and to rise above all others, or sink in ruin to an early grave. England, with all her noble souls, is she to sink? Cannot all prosper together? May I not hope to see you allied to Wellesly, perilling your lives for the mutual glory of Ireland and England, in scenes of noble daring? asked Miss Rivers.

Miss Rivers, I dare not trust myself to prolong this interview. I could converse till forgetting myself in your presence, I might betray a weakness that would ill become one in my position. I could discuss any subject with you, and it would, I am sure, increase in interest as long as you bestowed upon it the energies of your intellect, and your warm heart.I do hope to converse with you often on this important step in my country's progress to glory, or ignominy but the

hour admonishes me that we must leave our social enjoyment. I sincerely hope that it is to be renewed, and continued daily, said Lord F, as he bid adieu for the night.

Ladies and gentlemen, our levee will be held at my father's house on Wednesday next. We shall be pleased to receive the calls of all our friends, said Miss Mitford

4

CHAPTER III.

THE POWER OF GENIUS.

Sweet Memory, wafted by the gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,

To view the fairy-haunts of long lost hours,
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.

Ages and climes remote to Thee impart

What charms in Genius, and refines in Art;

Thee, in whose hands the key of Science dwell

The pensive fortress of her holy cell;

Whose constant vigils chase the chilling damp
Oblivion steals upon her vestal-lamp.

ROGERS.

SIR HUBERT MITFORD was one of the richest bankers in London. At his levees, given on Wednesday of each alternate week, he entertained a circle not surpassed by any in that great city.

Mr. Mitford was fortunate in possessing great wealth, but more fortunate in possessing the taste of the Medici. In every thing connected with the arts, his taste was the standard to which all matters were referred.

His collection of paintings, statues, medals, and every article of interest to the connoisseur, was not surpassed by any of the nobility. His house was lighted with gas, then just in