The Sun.
London, England, 1850-01-12 00:00:00

with poverty! Let them say, prove, swear, what they
wili! I believe you feem my soul to be innocent, and if
life and strength sere grant:a me, I will caake your in-
-I.IOCLICO plain! 04 forgive all I have said: forgive my
abruptness, madness, inconsideration: I am well nigh
mad, I know—but there is no madness in my love, what-
ever there may be in my words!'
"' There is plenty in them, sir!' now bra ke in his
father, who had been rubbing his hands nervously
during all this sceee-1 mad?' yes, to be sure you are!
stark mad—that you go on raving there, and won't hear
any one speak. Do you know, sir, who and what this
young lady is, you have been addressing so passion-
ately?'

" Yes, sir, Ido know—and whatever'—
" Hold your tongue, sir, will you? you know nothing
at all about it. Why, boy, who should it be but Miss
Armadale herself; the real Miss Armadale, who, to play
us an unfair trick, passed off her friend as herself, and
came among us as the poor Esthe r!'
"For an instant Alfred grew paler than before: then
the colour rushed to his temples: he made a vain at-
tempt to speak; turned to leave the room, and fell sense-
less to the ground.
" Margaret's woman nature could not stand this:
pride, reserve and prudence would not suffer her to
speak: but she sprung to his assistance before even his
mother could reach him, and thick and fast fell her
tears upon his face. The world might wonder—friends
might disapprove—relations might mt.ke themselves
disagreeable: it mattared little now, for her high heart
was won !"
The interest is well sustained throughout the volume,
and the lights and shadows of the various characters
contrast admirably with each other. The love-story
of the gentle Mary and Nelson Crawford is second
in interest only to the fortunes of Margaret. Beyond
these attractive features, the tone of the whole book
is of a pure and elevating character—it is a volume
that wise friends would gladly put in the hands of
youth, for it pourtrays religion and virtue in their
appropriately attractive colours. " The Ssng of
Christmas" is an improvisation of the poet Alfred.
Its tone is most eloquent, and its teaching full of
beauty :
" Children of the earth—young and old—listen to
the song of Christmas!
" 'I am come among you again; with my fresh keen
blest, and my holly-bough, and the snow crackling
beneath my feet, and the hoar-frost dripping from my
hair:—and I see around Inc again the sight I love to
see—the bounding step, and the merry laugh, and the
warm-pressing hand—and the lip that quivers with
remembered blessing: and the heart that glows with
good deeds done, kept there for God alone. I see the
blazing log, and the plentiful board, and the throng of
friendly faces: I hear my name echoed as a watchword
of rejoicing, and I feel that lam loved as ever. And is
this all?
"' Children of the earth—revellers at the feast—
listen to the song of Christmas!
"' Was it only for this that Icame among you first?
—only to crown your bansluets with jubilee? Was it
that tie yule log might burn, and the wassail-bowlmight
foam, and the table be crowned with plenty—that they
who feasted all the year round should feast still higher
today? Is there nothing nobler in my cheering voice
—nothing holier in my song of joy—than the mirth
that blazes for an- hour' or the' dissipation that will
weary you to-morrow? Children of the earth--triflers
,vith reality—listen to the song of Christmas!
" When I came among you first, ye were a sorrowing
race:—the winter came and went again, but brought no
blessing with it—the sun looked down upon you with
pity, but kindled you not to praise—ye had no Saviour
—ye knew no God! I broke this chain of darkness—l
let in this glorious light—l said to the Eastern shep-
herds, Rejoice!—to the wise men, Your King is waiting!
I brought on the wings of my glorious message the
blessings of the Father of spirits, and shed them like
dew upon your path, that ye might be glad in the joy
of your salvation. I shed peace on your consciences—
comfort in your tribulations—light on the way wherein
ye should walk—hope on the bed wherein ye must die—
all this I did—yea, and greater than this, when I told
you your Saviour was born!
"'Children of the earth—ransomed of the Cross!
listen to the song of Christmas I

" The wilderness and the solitary place are glad be-
cause of me; the desert has rejoiced, and blossomed as
the rose:—fruit has sprung up in the waste places of the
earth, and well-springs from the rock and stone! There
has gone forth a voice like an angel's trump, from
which sorrow and mourning flee away, and every note
of its thrilling melody repeats the Redeemer's name!
Well then may ye rejoice, for whom that name was
given; fill up your cup with gladness—pour forth your
voices in song—the utmost ye can give will fall short of
the due amount, of the gratitude and praise He has
deserved at your hands. Be glad, ye children of Zion,
and rejoice in the Lord your God—he has crowned the
year with goodness—He has glorified the earth with
deliverance: if ye should rejoice in the Lord chatty,
above all should ye do so now; only take heed that y e
rfjoice aright—that Christmas drown not the name of
Christ: that in the joy of the Saviour's birth, y 4 neglect
not His great salvation!

" Children of the earth, probatiorers for eternity:
li;Jtea to the song of Christmas!
" ' Shall the children of a. e bride•chamber feast, only
when the Bridegroom is not with them? shall the sons
of the heavenly inheritance shrink from their natiNe
air? Shall the Prince's birthday he kept as an universal
jubilee, and the Prince Hiuntelf I.lu bani3Led frou:k the
ladne3s his birth has given? Will ye fill the bowl
with merriment, and heap the board with hospitality,
a.;,d in your eager gathering of the earthly blessings,

.he fallen leave; of the Tree of Life, given' indee&l,lor
he healing of the nations, but not sufficient for their

immortal sustenance,—pass offer the fruit of holiness

and grace, as though no tears had Lean shed, no blood
been poured, to cpench the flaming sword of the

Cherubim?

" Children of the earth, exiles from Eden's bowers,
listen to the song of Christmas!
"'ls it such a feast that I have chosen: a day for a
man to forget his soul? is it to choke up his gratitude
with self-indulgence, and to shackle his religion with

worldly bonds?- Wilt thou call this a feast, and an ac-
ceptable day unto the Lord? Is not this the feast that I
have chosen—to break off the yoke of sin; to crush the
head of evil habits; to lay up comfort against the evil
hour, and gather blessing and gladness that fade not
away? To give with both hands literally; to love with
the whole heart fervently; to press onward, onward
still, in the pathway of joyful obedience, bringing heart
and soul and strength and intellect as offerings to the
Bridegroom's table; and drinking here on earth of the
cup of felicity, that shall crow the marriage supper of
tho Lamb? . . . . . . . .

"‘ Children. of tie earth, wild olives of the Gentile :
listen to the song of Christmas!
"' Yes, there are hearts that love Thin, and find their
joy in His favour: a joy wherewith no stranger inter-
medleth, and which no stranger can understand. Who
are they that wake the Nativity morning with the
loudest and sweetest carols: that fill the Lord's courts

with Learning faces, and bring the brightest smile and
the happiest laugh for the meting of affection at home?
Who but they to whom my animal return is a
pledge of their purchased security, and who feel
as each ycar glides away b_neath my Wing, that
they are only so much nearer to heaven? Who but
they that go from house to house, where the poor
man is too desols.te to smile; lighting up the empty
hearth and covering the starving board, and giving the
naked clothing, and finding the destitute a home: that
every suffi ring member of the great redeemed family
may be glad on the birthday of their Brother? YO, to
you I turn, ye sowers and reapers of mercy : your mirth
shall not turn to,heavimss, nor your sacrifice be counted
a mockery; for the joy- el the Lord is your shield and
. .

strength, and the Gu-d of the poor man i; a guest at your

feast 7of love!

" Children of the earth, laizs of it mortzlity: listen
:o the song of Christman' "

AC TING CHARADES. By the Brothers Mayhew.
It is difficult with pen and ink to describe these
" Acting Charades ; or Deeds not Words." The
manner in which the " deeds are set forth by the
pencil of Mr. Hine, requires to be seen, rather than
to be described. As an explanation of "Charades in
Action," we quote from the introduction :
" The French have made themselves singularly famous
by their 'petits jeer' as they call them. Their inability
to sit still tor more than halt an hour has forced them to
invent a long list of amusing excuses for locomotion.
They have their Pigeon Vole,' and Main Chaude' or
' Berlina tic and Chiguette,' and a thousand other receipts
for making a long evening short.
But the most celebrated of all these petits jeux are
their Charades en Action.' Pigeon Vole, and all the
rest, have given way to these Acting Charades. No
birth-day is allowed to pass without playing at them.
The young and the old both delight in the game; and
invariably choose it. The old people lay aside their
dignity with a look of jovial martyrdom, and laugh
more than any one else; whilst—as if to apologise for
their apparently unbecoming levity—they tell you 'they
do like to see young people enjoying themselves.'
" Some persons have even acquired a kind of reputa-
tion as Charade actors, and are in such request that in-
vitations shower down from all quarters; and if they
can only be engaged, it is looked upon as a kind of cer-
tificate that the party is sure to be a good one.
"Lately, the game has been introduced into the draw-
ing-rooms of a few mirth-loving .Englishmen. Its suc-
cess has been tremendous. Cards have been discarded;
and bind-man's-buff, forfeits, and hunting the ring been
utterly abandoned. On Christmas-day, it has been
looked forward to, and entered into with as much energy
as the sainted plum-pudding itself. We have seen it
played among literary circles with unbounded mirth.
We have seen philosophers and poets either acting their
parts with all the enthusiasm of school-boys, or puzzling
their brains to find out `how they could dress as
Henry VIII., with only a great coat and gibus.'
" This game is, as its name expresses it, a Charade
ofenrere
fe;so
uopt the
enactspa r ttyl;
ec h
co
ha
as er
a'dteh e
ti rh
es ic,dteks apnlda,y s
whilst
acted instead of spoken. The two most celebrated per-
er
t . p theart
of audi,nue. A word is then fixed upon by the corps
drantatigue; and 'my first, my second, and my whole'
is gone through as puzzlingly as possible in dumb
show, each division making a separate and entire act.
At the conclusion of the drama, the guessing begins on
the part of the audience. If they are successful, they in
their turn perform: it' not, they still remain as audience.
" The grcat, rule to be observed in acting charade, is—
silence. Nothing more than an exclamation is allowed.
All the rest must be done in the purest pontominie.
" If in the walking out of the plot there should be
come sentenc. that it is impossible to express iu dumb
show, end yet rnuaL be made clear to the audience, then,
placards may be used. As hamlet says, they must
speak by the ecrd.'"
And as a specimen of the style of these " Charades,"
let us give the first (very imperfectly, however, as