look of indignation on the coachman-engraver. Underneath was written,

LOVE CONQUERED BY PRIDE.

The second picture represented the scene of the present day-my ten friends at table-Aurora placed between her happy husband and the coachman-engraver, and appearing to smile on both. At the bottom was written,

PRIDE CONQUERED BY LOVE.

Here finishes my history. My present happiness I can feel better than define. Aurora made me the father of three other children, and requested that the first of them should have for his godfather the engraver whose hand she had refused. He is now the happy husband of a charming woman, well known in Lyons for the care which she bestows on the education of her only daughter. Aurora tells me that she shall not be completely happy till this young girl calls her mother; and what is singular in this affair is, that my son is of the same opinion.

The Man who Owned he was a Fool.

DR Thevenet, a distinguished surgeon at Calais, one day received a note without signature, requesting him to repair to a hotel not far off, with such instruments as were necessary for an amputation. Thevenet was somewhat surprised at the manner of the invitation, but concluding that it was the work of some wag, paid no regard to it. Three days after he received a second invitation still more pressing, and containing the information that the next day at nine o'clock a carriage would stop before his house in order to convey him. Thevenet resolved to let the affair take its course, and when, on the following day, at the striking of the clock, an elegant carriage stopped before the door, he seated himself on it, and asked the driver to whom he was to carry him?

The driver replied in English-" What I do not know I cannot tell."

At length the carriage stopped before the door of the hotel. A handsome young man, of about twenty-eight years of age, received the surgeon at

the door, and conducted him up-stairs into a large chamber, where the following conversation took place:

Thevenet. You have sent for me?

Englishman. I am much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken to visit me. Here is coffee, chocolate, or wine, if you would take anything before the operation.

Thev. Show me the patient, sir; I must first ascertain whether the injury is such as to render an amputation necessary.

Eng. It is necessary. Doctor, seat yourself; I have perfect confidence in you-listen to me. Here is a purse of one hundred guineas; this is the pay you will receive for the operation. If done successfully, it is yours. Should you refuse to comply with my wishes, see, here is a loaded pistol. You are in my power; I will shoot

you. Thev. Sir, I am not afraid of your pistols. But what is your particular desire? Tell me without preamble.

Eng. You must cut off my right leg.

Thev. With all my heart; and, if you please, your head too. But the leg is sound. You sprang up-stairs just now with the agility of a dancingmaster. What ails your leg?

Eng. Nothing. I only want it off.

Thev. Sir, you are a fool.

Eng. Why does that trouble you, Thevenet? Thev. What sin has the leg committed?

Eng. None; but are you ready to take it off? Thev. Sir, I do not know.

that you are sound of mind.

Bring me evidence

Eng. Will you comply with my request?

Thev. Yes, sir, so soon as you give me sufficient reasons for such mutilation of yourself.

Eng. I cannot tell you the truth, perhaps, for some years; but I will lay a wager that after a certain time you shall understand that my reasons are most noble-that my happiness, my very existence, depend upon my being freed from this leg.

Thev. Sir, I lay no wagers. Tell me your name, residence, family, and occupation.

Eng. You shall know all that hereafter. Do you take me for an honourable man?

Thev. I cannot. A man of honour does not threaten his physician with pistols. I have duties towards you as a stranger. I will not mutilate you. If you wish to be the murderer of a guiltless father of a family, then shoot.

Eng. Well, Mr Thevenet, I will not shoot you; but I will force you to take off my leg. What you will not for the love of money, nor the fear of a bullet, you shall do for compassion.

Thev. And how so?

Eng. I will break my leg by discharging my pistols, and here before your eyes.

The Englishman seated himself, and placed the mouth of the pistol close to his knee. Thevenet was on the point of springing to prevent him, but he exclaimed

"Stir not, or I fire! Now," said he, "will you increase and lengthen out my pains for nothing?" "You are a fool," says Thevenet, "but it shall be done. I will take off the unfortunate leg."

The Englishman calmly laid by the pistol, and all was made ready for the operation. As soon as the surgeon began to cut, the Englishman lighted his pipe, and swore it should not go out. He kept his word. The leg lay upon the floor, and the Englishman was still smoking. Thevenet did his work

like a master; the wound, by his skill, and the patient's own good nature, was healed at a fixed time. He rewarded the surgeon like a king, and thanked him with tears of joy for the loss of his leg, and sallied over the streets with a wooden one. About eight weeks after his departure, Thevenet received a letter from England with the following contents:

"You will receive enclosed, as a proof of my most heartfelt gratitude, an order for two hundred and fifty guineas upon Mons. Panchard in Paris. You have made me the happiest mortal on earth in depriving me of my leg, for it was the only hindrance to my earthly felicity. Brave man, you may now know the cause of my foolish humour as you called it.

"You concluded, at the time, that there could be no reasonable ground for such self-mutilation. I offered to lay a wager; you did well in not accepting it. After my second return from the East Indies, I became acquainted with Emilie Harley, the most perfect of women. I loved her most passionately. Her wealth, her family connexions, influenced my friends in her favour; but I was influenced only by her beauty and her noble heart. I joined the number of her admirers. Ah! excellent Thevenet, I was so fortunate as to gain her affections. She loved me above all-made no secret of it--but she still rejected me. I sought her hand in vain; in vain I implored her parents and her friends to intercede for me. She was still immovable. For a long time I was unable to conjecture the cause of her refusing me; since, as she confessed herself, she loved me almost to distraction. One of her visitors at length betrayed to me the secret. Miss