two or three years back, to reside on the the merit of the unconscious possessor, profamily estate, where he had won "golden bably gone for ever. She had all the pretty opinions from all sorts of people." He was, marks of love at that happy moment when the as Ellen truly described him, tall and grace- name and nature of the passion are alike unful, and well-bred almost to a fault; remind- suspected by the victim. To her there was ing her of that beau-ideal of courtly elegance, but one object in the whole world, and that George the Fourth, and me, (pray, reader, do one was Colonel Falkner: she lived only in not tell!) me, a little, a very little, the least his presence; hung on his words; was restin the world, of Sir Charles Grandison. He less she knew not why in his absence; adopted certainly did excel rather too much in the his tastes and opinions, which differed from mere forms of politeness, in cloakings and hers as those of clever men so frequently do bowings, and handings down stairs; but then from those of clever women; read the books he was, like both his prototypes, thoroughly he praised, and praised them too, deserting imbued with its finer essence- -considerate, our old idols, Spenser and Fletcher, for his attentive, kind, in the most comprehensive favourites, Dryden and Pope; sang the songs sense of that comprehensive word. I have he loved as she walked about the house; drew certainly known men of deeper learning and his features instead of Milton's in a portrait more original genius, but never any one whose which she was copying for me of our great powers were better adapted to conversation, poet, and finally wrote his name on the marwho could blend more happily the most va- gin. She moved as in a dream-a dream as ried and extensive knowledge with the most innocent as it was delicious! - but oh, the playful wit and the most interesting and ami- sad, sad waking! It made my heart ache to able character. Fascinating was the word think of the misery to which that fine and that seemed made for him. His conversation sensitive mind seemed to be reserved. Ellen was entirely free from trickery and display was formed for constancy and suffering-it the charm was (or seemed to be) perfectly was her first love, and it would be her last. natural: he was an excellent listener; and I had no hope that her affection was returned. when he was speaking to any eminent person Young men, talk as they may of mental at-orator, artist, or poet,-I have sometimes tractions, are commonly the slaves of personal seen a slight hesitation, a momentary diffi- charms. Colonel Falkner, especially, was dence, as attractive as it was unexpected. It a professed admirer of beauty. I had even was this astonishing evidence of fellow-feel- sometimes fancied that he was caught by ing, joined to the gentleness of his tone, the Charlotte's, and had therefore taken an opsweetness of his smile, and his studied avoid-portunity to communicate her engagement to ance of all particular notice or attention, that first reconciled Ellen to Colonel Falkner. His sister, too, a charming young woman, as like him as Viola to Sebastian, began to understand the sensitive properties of this shrinking and delicate flower, which, left to itself, repaid their kind neglect by unfolding in a manner that surprised and delighted us all. Before the spring had glided into summer, Ellen was as much at home at Holly-grove as with us; talked and laughed and played and sang as freely as Charlotte. She would indeed break off if visibly listened to, either when speaking or singing; but still the ice was broken; that rich, low, mellow voice, unrivalled in pathos and sweetness, might be heard every evening, even by the Colonel, with little more precaution, not to disturb her by praise or notice, than would be used with her fellow-warbler the nightingale. She was happy at Holly-grove, and we were delighted; but so shifting and various are human feelings and wishes, that, as the summer wore on, before the hay-making was over in its beautiful park, whilst the bees were still in its lime-trees, and the golden beetle lurked in its white rose, I began to lament that she had ever seen Holly-grove, or known its master. It was clear to me, that unintentionally on his part, unwittingly on hers, her heart was gone,-and, considering his sister. Certainly he paid our fair and blooming guest extraordinary attention! any thing of gallantry or compliment was always addressed to her, and so for the most part was his gay and captivating conversation; whilst his manner to Ellen, though exquisitely soft and kind, seemed rather that of an affectionate brother. I had no hopes. Affairs were in this posture when I was at once grieved and relieved by the unexpected recall of our young visiters. Their father had completed his business in Ireland, and was eager to return to his dear home, and his dear children; Charlotte's lover, too, was ordained, and was impatient to possess his promised treasure. The intended bridegroom was to arrive the same evening to escort the fair sisters, and the journey was to take place the next day. Imagine the revulsion of feeling produced by a short note, a bit of folded paper -the natural and redoubled ecstasy of Charlotte, the mingled emotions of Ellen. wept bitterly: at first she called it joy-joy that she should again see her dear father; then it was grief to lose her Charlotte; grief to part from me; but, when she threw herself in a farewell embrace on the neck of Miss Falkner, whose brother happened to be absent for a few days on business, the truth appeared to burst upon her at once, in a gush of agony that seemed likely to break her heart. Miss She Falkner was deeply affected; begged her to write to her often, very often; loaded her with the gifts of little price, the valueless tokens which affection holds so dear, and stole one of her fair ringlets in return. "This is the curl which William used to admire," said she: "have you no message for poor William ?"-Poor Ellen! her blushes spoke, and the tears that dropped from her downcast eyes; but she had no utterance. Charlotte, however, came to her relief with a profusion of thanks and compliments; and Ellen, weeping with a voice that would not be controlled, at last left Holly-grove. The next day we too lost our dear young friends. Oh what a sad day it was! how much we missed Charlotte's bright smile and Ellen's sweet complacency! We walked about desolate and forlorn, with the painful sense of want and insufficiency, and of that vacancy in our home, and at our board, which the departure of a cherished guest is sure to occasion. To lament the absence of Charlotte, the dear Charlotte, the happiest of the happy, was pure selfishness; but of the aching heart of Ellen, my dear Ellen, I could not bear to think and yet I could think of nothing else, could call up no other image than her pale and trembling form, weeping and sobbing as I had seen her at Holly-grove; she haunted even my dreams. cess?" “Will I! Oh! how sincerely! My dear colonel, I beg a thousand pardons for undervaluing your taste-for suspecting you of preferring a damask rose to a blossomed myrtle; I should have known you better." And then we talked of Ellen, dear Ellen,-talked and praised till even the lover's heart was satisfied. I am convinced that he went away that morning, persuaded that I was one of the cleverest women, and the best judges of character that ever lived. And now my story is over. What need to say, that the letter was written with the warmest zeal, and received with the most cordial graciousness – -or that Ellen, though shedding sweet tears, bore the shock of joy better than the shock of grief, — or that the twin sisters were married on the same day, at the same altar, each to the man of her heart, and each with every prospect of more than common felicity? What need to say this? Or having said this, why should I tell what was the gift that so enchanted me? I will not tell:- my readers shall decide according to their several fancies between silver favours or bridal gloves, or the magical wedding cake drawn nine times through the ring. WALKS IN THE COUNTRY. THE COWSLIP BALL. Early the ensuing morning I was called down to the colonel, and found him in the garden. He apologized for his unseasonable intrusion; talked of the weather, then of the MAY 16th.-There are moments in life, loss which our society had sustained; blushed when, without any visible or immediate cause, and hesitated; had again recourse to the wea- the spirits sink and fall, as it were, under the ther; and at last by a mighty effort, after two mere pressure of existence: moments of unor three sentences begun and unfinished, con- accountable depression, when one is weary trived, with an embarrassment more graceful of one's very thoughts, haunted by images and becoming than all his polished readiness, that will not depart-images many and varito ask me to furnish him with a letter to Mr. ous, but all painful; friends lost, or changed, Page. "You must have seen," said he, co- or dead; hopes disappointed even in their aclouring and smiling, "that I was captivated complishment; fruitless regrets, powerless by your beautiful friend; and I hope I could wishes, doubt and fear and self-distrust, and have wished to have spoken first to herself, to self-disapprobation. They who have known have made an interest-but still if her affec- these feelings, (and who is there so happy as tions are disengaged-tell me, you who must not to have known some of them?) will unknow, you who are always my friend, have I derstand why Alfieri became powerless, and any chance? Is she disengaged?" "Alas! Froissart dull; and why even needle-work, I have sometimes feared this; but I thought that most effectual sedative, that grand soother you had heard-your sister at least was and composer of woman's distress, fails to aware""Of what? It was but this very comfort me to-day. I will go out into the air morning-aware of what?" "Of Charlotte's this cool pleasant afternoon, and try what that engagement." "Charlotte! It is of Ellen, will do. I fancy that exercise, or exertion of not her sister, that I speak and think! Of any kind, is the true specific for nervousness. Ellen, the pure, the delicate, the divine!" Fling but a stone, the giant dies." I will That whitest and sweetest of flowers; the jasmine, the myrtle, the tuberose among women," continued he, elucidating his similes by gathering a sprig of each plant, as he paced quickly up and down the garden walk "Ellen, the fairest and the best; your darling and mine! Will you give me a letter to her father? And will you wish me suc go to the meadows, the beautiful meadows! And on we go fast, fast! down the road, across the lea, past the workhouse, along by the great pond, till we slide into the deep narrow lane, whose hedges seem to meet over the water, and win our way to the little farmhouse at the end. "Through the farm-yard, Lizzy; over the gate; never mind the cows; they are quiet enough."-" I don't mind 'em," said Miss Lizzy, boldly and truly, and with a proud affronted air, displeased at being thought to mind any thing, and showing by her attitude and manner some design of proving her courage by an attack on the largest of the herd, in the shape of a pull by the tail. "I don't mind 'em." "I know you don't, Lizzy; but let them alone, and don't chase the turkeycock. Come to me, my dear!" and, for a wonder, Lizzy came. In the mean time my other pet, Mayflower, had also gotten into a scrape. She had driven about a huge unwieldy sow, till the animal's grunting had disturbed the repose of a still more enormous Newfoundland dog, the guardian of the yard. Out he sallied growling from the depth of his kennel, erecting his tail, and shaking his long chain. May's attention was instantly diverted from the sow to this new playmate, friend or foe, she cared not which: and he of the kennel, seeing his charge unhurt and out of danger, was at leisure to observe the charms of his fair enemy, as she frolicked round him, always beyond the reach of his chain, yet always with the natural instinctive coquetry of her sex, alluring him to the pursuit which she knew to be vain. I never saw a prettier flirtation. At last the noble animal, wearied out, retired to the inmost recesses of his habitation, and would not even approach her when she stood right before the entrance. "You are properly served, May. Come along, Lizzy. Across this wheatfield, and now over the gate. Stop! let me lift you down. No jumping, no breaking of necks, Lizzy!" And here we are in the meadows, and out of the world. Robinson Crusoe, in his lonely island, had scarcely a more complete, or a more beautiful solitude. These meadows consist of a double row of small enclosures of rich grass-land, a mile or two in length, sloping down from high arable grounds on either side, to a little nameless brook that winds between them, with a course which in its infinite variety, clearness, and rapidity, seems to emulate the bold rivers of the north, of whom, far more than of our lazy southern streams, our rivulet presents a miniature likeness. Never was water more exquisitely tricksy :-now darting over the bright pebbles, sparkling and flashing in the light with a bubbling music, as sweet and wild as the song of the woodlark; now stretching quietly along, giving back the rich tufts of the golden marsh-mary golds which grow on its margin; now sweeping round a fine reach of green grass, rising steeply into a high mound, a mimic promontory, whilst the other side sinks softly away, like some tiny bay, and the water flows between, so clear, so wide, so shallow, that Lizzy, longing for adventure, is sure she could cross unwetted; now dashing through two sand-banks, a torrent deep and narrow, which May clears at a bound; now sleeping half-hidden beneath the alders and hawthorns and wild roses, with which the banks are so profusely and variously fringed, whilst flags,* lilies, and other aquatic plants, almost cover the surface of the stream. In good truth it is a beautiful brook, and one that Walton himself might have sitten by and loved, for trout are there; we see them as they dart up the stream, and hear and start at the sudden plunge when they spring to the surface for the summer flies. Izaac Walton would have loved our brook and our quiet meadows; they breathe the very spirit of his own peacefulness, a soothing quietude that sinks into the soul. There is no path through them, not one; we might wander a whole spring day, and not see a trace of human habitation. They belong to a number of small proprietors, who allow each other access through their respective grounds, from pure kindness and neighbourly feeling, a privilege never abused; and the fields on the other side of the water are reached by a rough plank, or a tree thrown across, or some such homely bridge. We ourselves possess one of the most beautiful; so that the strange pleasure of property, that instinct which makes Lizzy delight in her broken doll, and May in the bare bone which she has pilfered from the kennel of her recreant admirer of Newfoundland, is added to the other charms of this enchanting scenery; a strange pleasure it is, when one so poor as I can feel it! Perhaps it is felt most by the poor, with the rich it may be less intense-too much diffused and spread out, becoming thin by expansion, like leafgold; the little of the poor may be not only more precious, but more pleasant to them: certain that bit of grassy and blossomy earth, with its green knolls and tufted bushes, its old pollards wreathed with ivy, and its bright and babbling waters, is very dear to me. But *Walking along these meadows one bright sunny afternoon, a year or two back, and rather later in the season, I had an opportunity of observing a curious circumstance in natural history. Standing close to the edge of the stream, I remarked a singular appearance on a large tuft of flags. It looked like bunches of flowers, the leaves of which seemed dark, yet transparent, intermingled with brilliant tubes of bright blue or shining green. On examining this phenomenon more closely, it turned out to be several clusters of dragon-flies, just emerged from their deformed crysalis state, and still torpid and motionless from the wetness of their filmy wings. Half an hour later we returned to the spot, and they were gone. We had seen them at the very moment when beauty was complete, and animation dormant. I have since found nearly a similar account of this curious process in Mr. Bingley's very entertaining work, called "Animal Biography." I must always have loved these meadows, so | fresh, and cool, and delicious to the eye and to the tread, full of cowslips, and of all vernal flowers Shakspeare's Song of Spring bursts irrepressibly from our lips as we step on them: "When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, Do paint the meadows with delight, "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" cried Lizzy, breaking in with her clear childish voice; and immediately, as if at her call, the real bird, from a neighbouring tree (for these meadows are dotted with timber like a park), began to echo my lovely little girl, "cuckoo! cuckoo!" I have a prejudice very unpastoral and unpoetical (but I cannot help it, I have many such), against this " harbinger of spring." His note is so monotonous, so melancholy; and then the boys mimic him; one hears "cuckoo! cuckoo!" in dirty streets, amongst smoky houses, and the bird is hated for faults not his own. But prejudices of taste, likings and dislikings, are not always vanquishable by reason; so, to escape the serenade from the tree, which promised to be of considerable duration, (when once that eternal song begins, on it goes ticking like a clock)-to escape that noise I determined to excite another, and challenged Lizzy to a cowslip-gathering; a trial of skill and speed, to see which should soonest fill her basket. My stratagem succeeded completely. What scrambling, what shouting, what glee from Lizzy! twenty cuckoos might have sung unheard whilst she was pulling her own flowers, and stealing mine, and laughing, screaming, and talking through all. At last the baskets were filled, and Lizzy declared victor: and down we sate, on the brink of the stream, under a spreading hawthorn, just disclosing its own pearly buds, and surrounded with the rich and enamelled flowers of the wild hyacinth, blue and white, to make our cowslip-ball. Every one knows the process; to nip off the tuft of flowerets just below the top of the stalk, and hang each cluster nicely balanced across a riband, till you have a long string like a garland; then to press them closely together, and tie them tightly up. We went on very prosperously, considering, as people say of a young lady's drawing, or a Frenchman's English, or a woman's tragedy, or of the poor little dwarf who works without fingers, or the ingenious sailor who writes with his toes, or generally of any performance which is accomplished by means seemingly inadequate to its production. To be sure, we met with a few accidents. First, Lizzy spoiled nearly all her cowslips by snapping them off too short; so there was a fresh gathering; in the next place, May overset my full basket, and sent the blossoms floating, like so many fairy favours, down the brook; then when we were going on pretty steadily, just as we had made a superb wreath, and were thinking of tying it together, Lizzy, who held the riband, caught a glimpse of a gorgeous butterfly, all brown and red and purple, and skipping off to pursue the new object, let go her hold; so all our treasures were abroad again. At last, however, by dint of taking a branch of alder as a substitute for Lizzy, and hanging the basket in a pollardash, out of sight of May, the cowslip-ball was finished. What a concentration of fragrance and beauty it was! golden and sweet to satiety! rich to sight, and touch, and smell! Lizzy was enchanted, and ran off with her prize, hiding amongst the trees in the very coyness of ecstasy, as if any human eye, even mine, would be a restraint on her innocent raptures. In the mean while I sate listening, not to my enemy the cuckoo, but to a whole concert of nightingales, scarcely interrupted by any meaner bird, answering and vying with each other in those short delicious strains which are to the ear as roses to the eye; those snatches of lovely sound which come across us as airs from heaven. Pleasant thoughts, delightful associations, awoke as I listened; and almost unconsciously I repeated to myself the beautiful story of the Lutist and the Nightingale, from Ford's Lover's Melancholy. Here it is. Is there in English poetry any thing finer? "Passing from Italy to Greece, the tales To Thessaly I came, and living private, down. The challenge; and for every several strain Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last Fail'd in, for grief down dropt she on his lute, And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness To weep a funeral elegy of tears. He look'd upon the trophies of his art, had the misfortune to lose a shoe in the mud, which we left the boy to look after. Here we are at home-dripping; but glowing and laughing, and bearing our calamity most manfully. May, a dog of excellent sense, went instantly to bed in the stable, and is at this moment over head and ears in straw; Lizzy is gone to bed too, coaxed into that wise measure by a promise of tea and toast, and of not going home till to-morrow, and the Then sigh'd, then wiped his eyes; then sigh'd and story of Little Red Riding-Hood; and I am cried, Alas! poor creature, I will soon revenge Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood, When I had finished the recitation of this exquisite passage, the sky, which had been all the afternoon dull and heavy, began to look more and more threatening; darker clouds, like wreaths of black smoke, flew across the dead leaden tint; a cooler, damper air blew over the meadows, and a few large heavy drops plashed in the water. "We shall have a storm. Lizzy! May! where are ye? Quick, quick, my Lizzy! run, run! faster faster!" enjoying the luxury of dry clothing by a good fire. Really getting wet through now and then is no bad thing, finery apart; for one should not like spoiling a new pelisse or a handsome plume; but when there is nothing in question but a white gown and a straw bonnet, as was the case to-day, it is rather pleasant than not. The little chill refreshes, and our enjoyment of the subsequent warmth and dryness is positive and absolute. Besides, the stimulus and exertion do good to the mind as well as body! How melancholy I was all the morning! how cheerful I am now! Nothing like a shower-bath-a real shower-bath, such as Lizzy and May and I have undergone, to cure low spirits. Try it, my dear readers, if ever ye be nervous-I will answer for its success. And off we ran; Lizzy not at all displeased at the thoughts of a wetting, to which indeed she is almost as familiar as a duck; May, on the other hand, peering up at the weather, and A COUNTRY CRICKET-MATCH. shaking her pretty ears with manifest dismay. Of all animals, next to a cat, a greyhound I DOUBT if there be any scene in the world dreads rain. She might have escaped it; her more animating or delightful than a cricketlight feet would have borne her home long be- match:-I do not mean a set match at Lord's fore the shower; but May is too faithful for Ground for money, hard money, between a that, too true a comrade, understands too well certain number of gentlemen and players, as the laws of good fellowship; so she waited they are called-people who make a trade of for us. She did, to be sure, gallop on before, that noble sport, and degrade it into an affair and then stop and look back, and beckon, as of bettings, and hedgings, and cheatings, it it were, with some scorn in her black eyes at may be, like boxing or horse-racing; nor do the slowness of our progress. We in the I mean a pretty fête in a gentleman's park, mean while got on as fast as we could, where one club of cricketing dandies encounter encouraging and reproaching each other. another such club, and where they show off "Faster, my Lizzy! Oh what a bad runner!" in graceful costume to a gay marquée of ad-"Faster, faster! Oh what a bad runner," miring belles, who condescend so to purchase echoed my saucebox. "You are so fat, Liz-admiration, and while away a long summer zy, you make no way!"-"Ah! who else is fat?" retorted the darling. Certainly her mother is right; I do spoil that child. morning in partaking cold collations, conversing occasionally, and seeming to understand the game-the whole being conducted acBy this time we were thoroughly soaked, cording to ball-room etiquette, so as to be exall three. It was a pelting shower, that ceedingly elegant and exceedingly dull. No! drove through our thin summer clothing and the cricket that I mean is a real solid oldpoor May's short glossy coat in a moment. fashioned match between neighbouring parishAnd then, when we were wet to the skin, the es, where each attacks the other for honour sun came out, actually the sun, as if to laugh and a supper, glory and half-a-crown a man. at our plight; and then, more provoking still, If there be any gentlemen amongst them, it is when the sun was shining, and the shower well-if not, it is so much the better. Your over, came a maid and a boy to look after us, gentleman cricketer is in general rather an loaded with cloaks and umbrellas enough to anomalous character. Elderly gentlemen are fence us against a whole day's rain. Never obviously good for nothing; and young beaux mind! on we go, faster and faster; Lizzy are, for the most part, hampered and tramobliged to be most ignobly carried, having melled by dress and habit; the stiff cravat, F |