Yours at once the secrets won Age by age, from sire to son; Yours the fruit through countless years Grown by thought and toil and tears.

With your actions autocratic, And your poses so dramatic; Yours the honour and the glory, while the country pays the bill, With your shouting sempiternal, And your Grandmamma a Colonel,

Dear Lady Russell, Ever faithfully yours, CHARLES DICKENS LONDON, April 19, 1866 Political prospects not brightening.

[Illustration: [Handwritten: Very cordially yours James Powell]] THE AMERICAN MISSIONARY.