"But what do you think of her?"

"To tell the truth," I replied, "I should call her a very pretty girl, but certainly nothing more."

Walter turned up his eyes in evident astonishment at my barbarism, but said nothing.

"And yet," I continued, not seeming to notice him, "supposing her to be the loveliest girl in Christendom, a point which I strongly deny, she can never be any more to you than she is now. Remem ber, my dear fellow, you are engaged, and to one worth a hundred such. Surely you would not think of breaking off your union with Miss Denville, because another appeared to you rather prettier. If you do not dismiss this foolish idea which seems to harbour in your brain, I shall certainly suppose you out of your senses, and order you solitary confinement-and then adieu for ever to all your dreams about the Bella Straniera,"—and I changed the subject.

My friend was extremely annoyed, and could not but feel the truth of what I had said. However I continually took advantage of the rights of friendship to talk the matter over with him; and as I used to contrast the two together and praise the accomplishments of Miss Denville, perchance a feeling of jealousy arose in his mind, not unmingled with the gratification a man must experience in the possession of that which excites the envy and admiration of another. However, be that as it may, my object was attained, for I observed that it had made some impression on his mind.

He had not discontinued his accustomed visits to her house, but his behaviour was remarked by Miss Denville to be at times cold and distant; and to her frequent enquiries of the cause, he merely assigned the prevailing epidemic of the day. This by no means satisfied her, and with a woman's perception she saw but too clearly that something weighed upon his mind, which he attempted in vain to conceal. This behaviour did not at all diminish, and it formed a subject of conversation among many of the numerous cortége that frequented the house. I myself felt very much annoyed at his conduct, especially since it was repeatedly mentioned to me, as his friend, and each time did I deny the imputation; but had I not thoroughly understood Walter's character, I should have arrived at the same conclusion as the others. However, I trusted he would soon come to his senses, and the phantasy which flitted before him be altogether dispelled.

Such continued the state of affairs for several weeks, and as the period of his marriage approached, Walter appeared more and more undecided as to his future conduct. He was a man of the utmost honour and integrity, and I was rejoiced at length to hear him express his determination. He was perfectly aware that Miss Denville was fervently attached to him. He had seen much of the world, and knew of what strange materials a woman's heart is formed, that at times like a child it loves to sport with the gaudiest plaything, and is captivated with the brightest colour, yet at the next moment it will fling aside that toy for one more brilliant.

But he had likewise seen the fairer side, though one less frequent to behold, and experience had taught him that when once a maiden's

love is fixed with first and early affection, that, as the needle to the pole, she ever turns with delight to one with fondness; and he plainly saw, that if he dissolved his union with Miss Denville, it would prove fatal to her happiness, if not to her existence. He had weighed it carefully in his mind, and it was not without a pang of sorrow that he determined to await his approaching marriage, and trust that time would heal the wound, and banish from his mind the pleasing chimera in which it had fondly but foolishly indulged.

Time had not lingered in its course; and days and weeks had been borne along the many-coloured stream of years. To some had they been tinted with all the brilliance of the rainbow, exhibiting, as it were, the brightening prospects of the future, in which each saw reflected his own happiness. To others the view was sad and dismal. They looked in vain upon the deepening gloom and tried to discover their coming destiny; whichever way they turned, darkness prevailed, without one ray of sunshine, one beam of hope, to cheer them on their weary voyage. Such had been the case with Walter. Though he had firmly fixed his mind, yet had he been unable to banish the image of the charmer; remembrance had awakened with all her busy train, and, sporting with his feelings, had conjured up its pleasing visions. He had tried to pierce the veil of futurity, and strained his anxious eyes to look upon a life of happiness or of misery; but, alas! all his efforts were in vain, and nothing but a hueless blank presented itself to his gaze. He had so worked up his own feelings that he had well-nigh made himself ill; and though his countenance tried to wear again the smile with which he had been accustomed to welcome his betrothed, yet the endeavour was altogether fruitless. Miss Denville had often asked me what weighed upon his mind, but I had ever avoided a direct answer, and tried to buoy up her spirits with the idea that it was merely a temporary indisposition. This, however, only satisfied her for a time, and she became more than ever anxious, nay, alarmed, about him. But the catastrophe was soon brought to a close.

It was on a lovely morning towards the close of autumn that I was sitting at my breakfast ruminating on the strangeness of Walter's conduct, and wondering what would be the issue. I had that morning incurred the censure of the satirist, and had become one of the

"Genus ignavum lecto quod gaudet et umbrâ ;"

and I felt much more inclined to be serious than I usually do after keeping late hours the previous night; thus verifying the saying of the philosopher, that "pleasure and sorrow cannot exist the one without the other." I was thinking how extraordinary it was that though he had been so smitten, so desperately in love with the fair one, yet he should have never spoken to her-never uttered a single syllable; I am certain, had I been in his place I could not have so commanded myself: however, as he had long ceased his wonted perambulation in the Park, I expected the happiest results.

I suppose I had been engaged in some very deep meditation, for I was suddenly startled by a tremendous knocking at the door. The earliness of the hour precluded the possibility of visitors, and I was JULY, 1837.

F

asking myself who it could be, when Walter suddenly burst into the room, and, without noticing me, threw himself upon the sofa. I stared at him in astonishment, but, as I knew it would be impolitic to interrupt him, I continued silent.

Suddenly he started up, and, coming to me, grasped me so warmly by the hand that I thought he would have shaken it off. What was the matter now? some new scheme, some vagary had been conceived in his fertile brain. He was completely changed from what I had last seen him. His face was all sunshine, and the gloom of sorrow that had lately overcast his features, was now dispelled by smiles: but he continued silent, and seemed incapable of speaking from the excess of his emotion.

What is the matter now?" I said, "for heaven's sake, tell me." "Never mind," he replied-" come, put on your hat."

"Ah! I thought, no doubt he wants me to go with him again to the Park"-so I suffered myself to be led out. We were proceeding along our usual way, when he abruptly turned off in a contrary direction.

"Where are you going to now?" I said. "Have you formed some new acquaintance?' He made several attempts to speak, and at last came out this," Murder most foul!"

He had gone that morning at an early hour to make a professional visit, and, induced by the freshness of the air, had preferred going on foot. As he was proceeding, he saw immediately before him our Park acquaintance walking with her younger sister. As his way lay in the same direction, he followed very patiently, until he saw them enter a shop; when all the violence of his passion returned with tenfold vigour, and he could not resist the temptation of entering likewise, and speaking, even though they were but a few words. The opportunity was certainly favourable to him, so he forthwith entered and began amusing himself by looking over some engrav. ings that were lying on the table, until he saw the shopman had gone to fetch something that he wanted. Then did he screw up his courage, and, with a palpitating heart, paid her some high-flown compliment. These were the first words he had ever spoken to her. They were likewise the last.

She was looking exceedingly pretty. The reviving freshness of the morn had sent the colour to her cheeks and covered them with roses. Her light brown hair was braided in a most becoming manner, her dress too was peculiarly elegant, and set off her figure, which was certainly very fine, to advantage. Well-Walter was gazing earnestly in her face, which had been tinted with a deeper dye since he had spoken to her. He was expecting an answer from her lips with the same anxiety as though his existence had depended on it,

"When silence then the beauteous angel broke,
The voice of music ravish'd as she spoke."

Such a result did he expect, as her gentle mouth was opened; but instead of the soft silvery accents which, with a lover's devotion he had looked for-instead of the tender and mellifluous strains that he had so often listened to in imagination-her words sounded like the

twangling jargon of a Chinese pundit! indeed like the unhallowed voice itself of the nasal organ! What an unexpected blow! Walter stared at her with unfeigned astonishment. He looked, as the French have it, avec grands yeux. He felt a sickening creep over bim, a dizziness in his head, and, obeying the impulse of nature, rushed out of the shop. He made his way running, rather than walking, to my house, had thrown himself on the sofa, and buried his face in his hands, lost in abstraction. What followed, I have related. I could not avoid smiling at the absurdity of the affair, that such a little occurrence should have banished from his mind the dreams with which he had been feeding his imagination for the last two or three months--that the love which he professed should be altogether dispelled by the sound of a voice not so harmonious in its tones as he expected. But some one has said that "discord is harmony not understood." This may be true in the theory, but certainly not in the practice; and true it is, that Walter would not admit such plausible reasoning. A sudden light seemed to have broken upon his benighted senses, and diffused a gleam of sunshine over his scattered faculties.

His affection for Miss Denville returned with double ardour; and it was to her house we were proceeding as he narrated this extraordinary adventure.

His meeting with her was very different from that she had lately experienced. Instead of the former cold and distant manner, he was now all kindness and affection; and the tenderness with which he greeted her, more than repaid her for her past uneasiness. She observed the sudden transition, but tried in vain to read the riddle. She looked to me with earnestness, as though inquiring if this change were really unaffected. I nodded my assent, and almost, immedi ately afterwards left them to themselves; for I knew that in the present state of affairs my company could easily be dispensed with; especially as they had so much to talk over and communicate with each other.

In the evening Walter called upon me, and asked me as a particular favour to be with him the next morning at an early hour. I congratulated him on the present aspect of affairs, and promised to be punctual.

Having arrived at his house, I was surprised to find a post-chaise waiting at the door, and when I inquired the reason of its being there, he informed me he was going off that very morning with Miss Denville, and had requested my presence at the marriage ceremony. We immediately drove to the house of a mutual friend, where we found the bride awaiting us. I asked him what she herself had said to this peremptory way of proceeding, and he told me that when he first mentioned it to her the previous evening, she firmly refused to comply with his request; but he had exerted all those arts which man can employ when it suits his purpose, and had succeeded in gaining her consent. She had, however, written to her father, and I was entrusted with the letter, and empowered to explain the matter to him more fully..

The ceremony was performed within the church of Hanover

Square; and, though there were no trains of bride-maids assembled, no thronging of gay and gaudy friends, yet was the marriage quite as happy, and certainly more impressive, than if crowds of noble and titled relations had swept along the aisle of the sacred edifice.

The bride looked exceedingly beautiful, and the virgin blush of modesty that o'erspread her features, imparted a beauty and a grace which almost made me envy my friend the possession of such a jewel.

Three years have elapsed since their marriage, and their affection has not at all been diminished by the rude hand of time, but rather nurtured by it. The bride is still as blooming, and the rosy paleness of her cheek as pure, as on the day of her union. What more can I say? What more would

you have?
"Time and tide had thus their sway,

Yielding, like an April day,
Smiling noon for sullen morrow,

Tears of joy for hours of sorrow!"

SONG. THE SWEET GENNESEE.

By the Author of the " Bridal of Naworth."

O'ER the wilds of the west the last sunbeam was streaming,
And sad was my heart on a far foreign shore,

A star o'er my own native island was beaming

That island alas! I could ne'er visit more.

How bright was the scene, but I marked not its splendour,
My spirit was far, far away o'er the sea;

And I sank in remembrance too fond and too tender,-
Oh! sad were my thoughts by the sweet Gennesee.

The gay blooming sumach, the vine, and the myrtle,
Above me in wreaths of wild beauty were spread;
And soft was the soul-breathing note of the turtle,
And sweetly the zephyrs sighed over my head.

A thousand bright wings of rich plumage were glowing,
And soft though the strain of the minstrels might be,
I heard not their notes, for my heart was o'erflowing
With grief, in my exile by fair Gennesee.

But bright as the beam on the fair river streaming
Was the glance which dispell'd from my eyelid the tear,
And sweet as the music we hear in our dreaming
Was the voice of Louisa which thrill'd in my ear.

As the vapours retire from the charms of the morning,
So vanished my sorrows, Louisa, from thee;

A world of new beauties the wild wood adorning,-
Oh! how could I part from the fair Gennesee ?

Too fleeting our raptures, too soon I departed,
Repose was denied to a wand'rer like me;

And now through the world I may roam broken-hearted,
And sigh for Louisa and sweet Gennesee.