speech became inarticulate; at last,
no part obeyed his will except the eyes, which continued to smile on
us still. But one morning, at last, it seemed to me as if his very
glance had become dim. I arose hastily, and approaching his bed,
inquired if he wished for a drink; he made a slight movement of his
eyelids, as if to thank me, and at that instant the first ray of the
rising sun shone in on his bed. Then the eyes lighted up, like a taper
that flashes into brightness before it is extinguished--he looked as
if saluting this last gift of his Creator; and even as I watched him
for a moment, his head fell gently on the side, his kindly heart
ceased to beat. He had thrown off the burden of To-day; he had entered
on his eternal To-morrow.

THINGS TALKED OF IN LONDON.

_June 1852._

As usual, everything shews in this month that our season will soon be
past its perihelion: soirees, whether scientific, exquisite, or
political, take place almost too frequently for the comfort and
wellbeing of the invited; and loungers and legislators are alike
beginning to dream of leafy woods and babbling brooks. Our learned
societies have brought their sessions to a close, with more or less of
satisfaction to all concerned, the Royal having elected their annual
instalment of new Fellows, and the Antiquaries having decided to
reduce their yearly subscription from four guineas to two, with a view
to an increase and multiplication of the number of their members, so
that the study of antiquity may be promoted, and latent ability or
enthusiasm called into play. The British Association are making
preparations for their meeting at Belfast, and if report speak truth,
the result of the gathering will be an advancement of science in more
than one department. Concerts, musical gatherings, spectacles, are in
full activity, the _entrepreneurs_ seizing the moments, and coins too,
as they fly. In short, midsummer has come, and fashion is about to
substitute languor for excitement. Meantime, our excursion trains have
commenced their trips to every point of the compass; and during the
next few months, thousands will have the opportunity of exploring the
finest scenery of our merry island at the smallest possible cost; and
for one centre of attraction, as London was last year, there will now
be a hundred.

The award of Lord Campbell on the bookselling question has given a
great triumph to the innovating par