The Sun.
London, England, 1850-08-07 00:00:00

MAGAZINES, &c.--(CONTINUED.)

BENTLEY.
Contrary to the usual practice of novel writers, Mr.
Bell, in his delightful story "The Ladder cf Gold,"
continues the adventures of his heroine after her
marriage, and certainly the post-nuptial adventures of
Lady Charles Eton promise to be even more interest-
ing than were those of the lovely, long-suffering, but
somewhat too yielding Margaret Rawlings. The
railway panic arrives•—Rawlings is attacked as a
railway swindler by all sorts and conditions of men
and journals; the Etons, Lord William and Lord
Charles, are highly indignant with Rawlings, and
Lord Charles ventures in the presence of Margaret to
speak disrespectfully of her father ; this, at once,
rouses the indignation of the hitherto quiet girl, and,
to the surprise of her husband, Lady Charles Eton
reproaches him with his injustice in listening to
slanders against her father, instead of going frankly
to him and asking for an explanation. Shortly
afterwards Mr. Rawlings calls, and a magnificent
scene ensues between the two Lords and the parvenu,
of which we give the conclusion. After taunting
Lord Charles with his want of tact, Mr. Rawlings
turns to Lord William and thus addresses him :
" You wished to hear what I had to say, my Lord. I
beg you will listen to it. When your nephew proposed
for my daughter, I wasn't given to understand that you
had any objection to the match, nor did I consent to it
until it wa., in the first instanca, sanctioned by you."
" I never approved of the connexion," said Lord
William.

But you sanctioned it, for all that."
" Well—granted—l sanctioned it."
" You had no objection, on the part of your nrphew,
to receive with my daughter a sum of tifry thousand
pounds, with a life interest in two thousand a•year.
When that little arrangement was in course of negotia-
tion I was not appriaA of any scruples you had about
my reputation ; uor did you exhibit any particular
curiosity as to the sources from whence her fortune was
derived."

" Why should I? I knew of nothing against your
reputation then."
" And what do you know against it now? Can you
pick out of the malicious rumours set afloat by a mob of
disappointed speculators, who are turning round upon
every man that happened to be more fortunate or saga-
cious than themselves, one definite charge? Not one.
And upon these despicable innuendos you assume the
right of demanding explanations from me, and casting a
stigma upon my name."
Your name, Mr. Rawlings?" exclaimed Lord Wil-
liam, " really I must protest against being accused of
having a design upon your name, for I have yet to learn
that there is any special distinction attached to it."
" There is that distinction attached to it," replied Mr.
Rawlings. " which has brought men of your class in
troops about me, courting my favours like menial para-
sites. Your nephew was amongst the f)remost of them,
when ho was seeking to aggrandize himself by a mar-
riage with my daughter, and now, at the first breath of
slander, you are ready to repudiate the connexion."
1 never bad any connexion with you, sir," cried Lord
William, in a tone of ♦ehemence, " and I promise you I
never will. Let my nephew answer for himself."
" I will answer for both. Your nobility enriches it-
self at the cost of my industry, and then, having got all
it wanted, takes the earliest opportunity of taunting
me with its insolent superiority. But the triumph is
mine. I began the world without a shoe to my foot. I
was treated with scorn, beaten, and buffeted like a beast
of burden. I resolved to take my revenge on the
tyranny of the world—and I have done it. My daughter
—the daughter of the shoeless beggar—is Lady Charles
Eton, your Lordship's niece by marriage. You cannot
evade that fact—she is amongst your countesses and
honourubles, and will look down hereafter from your
picture gallery as proudly as the best of them. I have
known what it was to want a crust of bread—l have
starved by the road side, and slept in fields and out-
houses—what am I now? Will it humiliate your Lord-
ship, if I remind you that my house can't contain the
people of fashion that crowd about me ? I dine and
dance the aristocracy—there is no end to cringing and
flattery—l am suffocate with incense—it is more oppres-
sive than the drudgery I went through for a daily sub-
sistence—and I have the pleasure of knowing that out
of my eubst,nce your Lordship's nephew is enabled to
make that magnificent figure which your distinguished
ancestors forgot to leave him the means of providing for.
fell ine, then, which of us has the best right to set up
an arrogant ascendancy over the other—you who quarter
yourselves on my fortune, or I who stuff the cushions on
which you stretch your dignity ?"
As he spoke, his form seemed to dilate, his head was
thrown back with an expression of scorn and grandeur,
and the fire of concentrated passion flashed up through
his fettrures.

" You are an extraordinary man, Mr. Rawlings," ex-
claimed Lord William, drawing a long breath, " I sup-
pose you must take what course you think best."

"It is my intention, Lord William," returned Raw
Tinge, rising and taking up his hat; " and you must
excuse me if I decline taking you into my counsel, hav-
ing got on pretty well up to this time without your help.
But, before I leave you, I have one word to say. If you
fancy I value your connexion, you are mistaken. All
the advantage it can ever be to me, I have gained al-
ready. I have paid a high price for it, but I don't re-
pent my bargain. On your side the case is widely dif-
ferent—it is for your benefit, not mine, that we should
keep on good terms, and, although I have no great
opinion of your discretion, I think you know your own
interests too well not to see the necessity of changing
your tone about these railway libels. You must
dis-
courage them. It won't answer the purpose fur you to
appear indifferent. Your policy is indignation. Surely
}ou ought to be indignant for your own sakes," he added
in a sarcastic tone; .‘ and if anybody wonders why I am
not indignant, all you need say is, that I hold these
slanders in too much contempt to bo angry about them.
I wish you good morning."
When he was gone, Lord William and Lord Charles
turned a vacant and baillsd look upon each other.

The last chapter opens a new interest—Clara has
fallen in love with a certain George Farquhar, which
promises to end happily. The Gaol Chaplain con-
tributes a brace of ghost stories, which he tells with
his usual power, and Alfred Crowquill gives us a most
amusing anecdotal history of Vauxhall at the com-
mencement of the last century. The correspondence
of Mrs. Piozzi with Lysons is continued, and the
prcsunt batch is peculiarly interesting, as several of
the letters relate to the materials which Mrs. Piozzi was
at that time collecting for her biography of Dr. John-
son. In the paper on the " Personal Narratives of the
Hungarian War," the honour and loyalty of the brave
Hungarians who, under Kossuth and Klapka, resisted
Austrian tyranny and royal rebellion is nobly vindi-
cated. "It was not change they demanded," says this
writer, "but restoration. It was not that they wanted to
destroy, but to reinstate. They did not want to drive
the Emperor of Austria out of the country, to curtail
his authority, or to sap his influence—they only
wanted to make him King of Hungary. They did
not require him to surrender any of his privileges,
but simply to fulfil his duties. They did not ask him
to do violence to his Austrian conscience, they only
asked him to discharge the obligations of his Hunga-
rian oath." In the " Pen and Ink Gallery" we have
a portrait of Lord Brougham, accompanied by a bio-
graphical sketch by Alfred Crowquill. The other il-
lustration is to the " Ladder of Gold."