the pomp and circumstance Miss Walton other, called to the maid-servant to scream would have preferred, we drove off on a murder, which she did forthwith at the beautiful evening to rescue the benevolent very top of her voice, he himself shouting madman. On passing the lodge I noticed two stout fellows with huge bludgeons, probably brought up to reinforce the garri

son.

66

for help in stentorian tones. This was extremely awkward, for I do hate a mob above all things. However, we had begun the thing, and must go through; so the About half way we met Davis, one of footmen, by my directions, closed with the the boys, who had been directed to return keeper, and, after a hard struggle, overwith intelligence, and ought to have arrived powered him. In the mean time I ran down two hours before. He was sitting on a after the girl, caught her round the waist, stile by the road side, and something evi- and tried to shut her up in the pantry. dently ailed the poor fellow, for he rolled She was a strong Welsh lass, and kicked his eyes and looked up with a bewildered and struggled, and bellowed in such a way, air when the footman spoke to him. I was that I should never have managed her but greatly alarmed, and pressed him most for the assistance of my friend Tom Richearnestly to tell what was the matter; soards, who held on to one arm, like a leech, at last little Davis managed to say, I ate until I turned the key on her. He got his so much puddin', I can't breathe.' And coat torn, however, and I had a black eye that was all the intelligence our mercury and a scratch all down one cheek, besides could give. Leaving him to digest his pud- sore shins from the kicks of the delicate din', we drove slowly on, so as to reach creature. Henbury about dusk; when, just as the People were gathering fast outside the carriage turned into the main road, I house, and the keeper still shouted vigorthought I saw Clarke himself walking to- ously for help. It was full time to be off; wards the old passage. To make sure it so I told the servants to tie the man's arms was him, the footman who had seen him on and legs, take up Mr. W.'s things, get him our former visits was despatched to recon- safely aboard, and then make all sail anoitre, and finding that his report confirm- head. But, to my amazement, Mr. Wined my own observation, I desired the car- grove positively refused to go! He had riage to draw up close to the cottage, and remained hitherto quite passive in the both the servants to remain within call, midst of the bustle, and now, in the most while I proceeded on foot to gain an entry. quiet manner, he remarked that Providence In the opposite field I found our other spy, had placed him where he was, and he Tom Richards, fast asleep, under a chest- should not desert his post. I was actually nut tree, and when I stirred up this vigilant forced to argue the point while the mob sentinel, he spoke so thick, and his cheeks outside were increasing and getting more were so flushed and heated, that I conclud-violent every moment; nor was it without ed he and Davis had made an unhappy attempt at "division of labour,"-one eating all the pudding, and the other drinking all the cider.

Mr. Wingrove's keeper answered my knock at the door, and said the patient could not be seen in Mr. Clarke's absence; but I pushed in, declared peremptorily that I would see him, threatened the man with "the law," and while he hesitated I made for the stairs, and reached Mr. Wingrove's room. There he was, with his pale face and long hair, quietly reading "Thomas Aquinas on Angels." My dear sir," said I, "there is no time to lose. You have been confined here unjustly, but now the means of escape are at hand. Come with me, and you shall be restored to your friends and property."

66

urging that it was a clear duty to recover his property for purposes of charity, and convincing him by the letters that his nephew had deceived him, that he at length consented to go.

It was almost dark; the carriage-lamps threw a partial light on the crowd, which made them seem ten times more numerous than they were: the little garden in front was full of them, and three or four were thundering at the door for admittance. Luckily, the constable always made it a point to be out of the way when there was a row, or the people would have acted more confidently under his sanction.

"What's the matter?" demanded a dozen voices, when we appeared at the threshold. "Villainy's the matter," I replied aloud, and kidnapping, and shutting people up for nothing at all.”

Here the keeper entered, shut the door, and setting his back against it, declared, Help, help!" roared the man abovewith a resolute air, that the gentleman "Mur-der-r!" screamed the Welsh creashould not stir. I threatened him, but the ture below; and away rushed the foremost man was firm, and even looked dangerous; towards these exciting cries, while our little so I threw up the window, and called my phalanx issued into the garden, and gained liveried allies, who ran up in the "twinkling the carriage. The door was shut, the footof a bed-post," as Lord Duberly would say. men mounted, and Tom Richards stowed The sight of two stout fellows, with good away under the coachman's legs, when the sticks and dashing liveries, far from dis-keeper came rushing out like a madman, maying the keeper, excited his energies to " Stop them!" he cried-" stop thief-stop the utmost. He seized Mr. Wingrove with thief!-they've robbed the house-thieves, one hand, caught up the poker with the thieves, thieves !"

trot.

But the crowd could not believe that peo- | melted a heart of stone; yet, strange to say, ple in a carriage had committed larceny, Mr. Wingrove would not be reconciled to and no opposition was made, as the her. It was the disease of his mind to decoachman whipped his horses into a round light in being a martyr, without once considering the cause for which he suffered, and his replies were all in this spirit, expressing entire forgiveness, and declaring he should never cease to desire her welfare, though his dreams of home had perished for ever. He thought this generous, but in reality he was indulging his own morbid sensibility, and inflicting much pain upon her. I took advantage, however, of his offer to make a large settlement, and managed to tie up his property in a knot he will find it difficult either to cut or untwist.

Before we had gone a hundred yards, I heard them after us, and my Welsh friend's voice was easily ́ distinguishable above the general uproar. Stones began to fly about us, cries of "Knock him off the box," &c., showed the disposition of the crowd; and presently the whole pack uttered a roar of execration. (The keeper, I afterwards found, had caught hold of the springs behind, and was knocked down by one of the footmen.) Still as the horses were now at a canter, we distanced most of our pur- In the spring of the following year, havsuers, though ten or a dozen butchers and ing occasion to revisit Bristol, I made a stable-boys were running us hard, and point of calling on Mrs. Wingrove, and would probably have caught us at the hill, expressing my regret at the misconstrucbut for the appearance of two men on tion put upon her conduct. She was much horseback, the identical bumpkins I had pleased at this, blamed herself severely for seen at the lodge, who had been despatch-what had passed, and spoke in a very touched by Miss Walton to look out for us. By ing manner of her wish to convince her running their horses now at this man, now husband that she had acted for the best, and at that, they baffled and delayed our pur- was misled by the artifice of others. She is suers so much that we soon left them be- really a superior woman, and I must see hind, and reached Walton House in safety. what can be done. Great was Miss Letitia's triumph at this Slade had obtained the curacy of Shireglorious victory. Her eager and vehement hampton, and was living in the same house congratulations animated Mr. Wingrove with Mr. Wingrove. I accepted the latter's himself, and he seemed at length aware of invitation, even at the risk of offending Miss the kindness intended by rescuing him Walton; and on the third night, according from his degraded situation. I received to Mr. Wingrove's account, the following the thanks and applause of the whole circumstances occurred:-He was sitting party; the servants too were handsomely in his study about nine o'clock in the rewarded, and even the delinquencies of little Davis and Tom Richards were passed over in the general joy.

Humph!-yes!-that's all very well; but I have a black eye and a great scratch, that will mark me for a week at least; my shins are black and blue, my hat is spoiled, I've lost a favourite shirt-pin, and, upon the whole, if ever I carry off a madman again or fight with a great Welsh girl

Two days after this adventure, I went to London, after some trouble with Mr. Clarke, whose tone, however, was soon lowered by a discovery of some trifling peccadilloes he had committed, no doubt from pure absence of mind. Divers sums of money were not forthcoming, and this, with his former treachery in appearing as his uncle's friend, while he was in reality his gaoler, opened Mr. Wingrove's eyes to his real character. Yet I afterwards heard that he wrote him a long letter of kind advice, accompanied by a present of three thousand pounds, that he might not be led into temptation by want of money. He will get himself locked up again, if he goes on that way.

One thing, however, gave me considerable uneasiness. I was satisfied, from various circumstances, that Mrs. Wingrove had acted throughout on good motives, and was the dupe of Clarke's villany. She felt her situation most acutely, and wrote letters to her husband that would have

evening, engaged in reading the works
of Swedenborg, when a low sigh made
him look round; and there-he positively
declares-there stood a figure in white,
exactly like his wife, and looking very
mournful. The apparition shook its head
slowly three times, then held out one
hand, and pointed with the other to her wed-
ding-ring, sighed heavily, and disappeared
behind the screen. He sat breathless for
some time, before venturing to raise the
shade of his reading lamp and examine
the apartment; but there was nothing to be
seen.

Had she melted in earth, or vanished in air?
He saw not, he knew not-but nothing was there."

The effect of this vision was surprising. It was a direct intimation, he said, of the course to pursue, and accordingly the very next morning he wrote a detailed account of the apparition to Mrs. Wingrove, and announced his desire to be reunited. This was soon effected, and I had the satisfaction of seeing them arm-in-arm together in the garden on the morning I went away.

Several years have passed away since I first saw Shirehampton, and, among other alterations, Slade, through Mr. Wingrove's kindness, has become the rector, and Miss Louisa Walton the rector's lady. They are much liked and respected by the villagers; but in the Sunday school or bible society

committees, Slade, notwithstanding his official station, is quite eclipsed by Miss Walton. Though somewhere near sixty, she is as active and energetic as ever, drives about in a little pony chaise, hunting out children who do not come to school, scolding the mothers, abusing those who impose on Mr. Wingrove's good-nature, and exhibiting a perfect specimen of that race" whose nature's plague it is to spy into abuses." As for Mr. Wingrove, he is just as mad as ever he was, and his wife has a strong tendency the same way. He thinks nothing of selling half his furniture to raise funds for some charitable scheme, and once, when I ventured a remonstrance, he told

me that it was I who had caused the inconvenience by tying up his property in a way he never intended: "But I forgive you," he added, as usual, with an air of great benevolence. The notion of forgiving me for taking care of his property I thought rather good, and Dr. D. would undoubtedly have shut him up again for the very idea. Yet it is startling to think that one, who has for so many years lived an innocent life, in the constant habit of doing good, was near being imprisoned for life and cut off from the common brotherhood of mankind, on the mere opinions of a couple of men whose own selfishiness readily fixed on his boundless charity the brand and impress of insanity.

MELODIES FOR MUSIC.

BY T. J. OUSELEY.

No. I.

THE heart that can love without passion-when dead,
In an urn of rare orient pearl should be shrined;
And the precious gem wove in a wreath, for the head
Of VIRTUE, with lilies and roses entwined:
Meet emblems, the pearl and the lily would shine,
Of PURITY'S spotless and heavenly name;
And the rose breathing health, with a beauty divine,
Would a rich perfume add to the chaplet of fame.

They do Love a wrong, who have pictured a boy,
With wings, bow, and quiver, and light floating smiles;
Such is PASSION disguised, a mere flirting decoy,

And the deeper he blushes, the more he beguiles :
For love undisguised is a spirit of truth,

That breathes o'er the soul, but ne'er taints with the clay;
'Tis twin-born with INNOCENCE, wingless the youth,

Nor suffers a thought from the present to stray.

Then in crystalline dew, from the sun's setting ray,
When as calmness serenely uplifteth the soul,

Let us pledge a chaste bumper to Love, and convey

From the lips of the heart a bright stream from the bowl;

For the goblet that blushes with red ruby wine

Incites, for a moment, to madness and mirth;

But the draught from the sunbeam that kisses the vine
Partakes more of heaven, and hallows its birth.

LORD KILLIKELLY. *

BY ABBOTT LEE.

CHAPTER VI.

THE nerves are like "nobody;" they bear the blame of everything the weak head, the weak heart, the weak mind, the weak cour: age, all lay their sins upon the nerves, and are satisfied that it is no fault of theirs.

*Continued from P. 97.

It was, no doubt, the weak state of Veronese's nerves that sent every drop of the deep blushing current of life from her face at the sound of the knock recorded in our last chapter. The alarm, however, proved a false one, as Lord Killikelly inferred from the look of disappointment which came back with her to be Mr. and Mrs. Adolphus Snookes. accustomed colour. The new comers proved

We are quite sure that people of reputation carry with them the air of their reputation; some have an air of reputation for ta

couple being fully, entirely, and satisfactorily occupied in admiring themselves.

new

lent, some for wit, some for beauty, some for fashion, but the élite of the world have always an air of reputation for something. Reader, have you ever been suddenly inNow it was as evident as Wellington's troduced to a relation whom you had never nose that Mr. Adolphus Snookes had an air before seen, of whose existence you scarcely of reputation for being handsome. It was knew? If you have, you may remember the not necessary for him to say a witty thing, or strange sort of interest and curiosity that do a wise one, because his credit was esta-filled your mind, something like what one blished as a handsome man. People have a might feel on looking at one's own features genius for certain things; nobody expects in a mirror for the first time. Has not the them to do anything else; it is not their line, blood in your own veins leaped and gurgled their forte; nobody expects perfume from an as though bearing witness to some oak, or strength from a tulip; nobody ex-affinity-emotions new and strange? Lord pects wit or wisdom from a handsome man. Killikelly felt all this. He, the lordling, knew Mr. Adolphus Snookes was a very handsome that the vital current which rose in such man; his reputation was established. He proud waves in the fountain of his own heart, must have been handsome, for Sophy Snookes had mingled in their honourable stream some had once been in love with him, but he got of the muddy drops that served to keep the married, and she found out just in time to wheels in motion of these machines in their save her from Opheliaism that he was not in petty fabrications of little vanities and low her style. ambitions; but Lord Killikelly remembered again that he was a philosopher, standing aloof from all passion, superior to all prejudice, and he looked on Veronese, and traced in the outline of her features an unmistakable resemblance to a mother whom he had deeply and naturally loved; he felt a little relenting and melting of his heart towards her; he began to see that a deeper feeling than a trifling amusement, or a womanish We said that the only thing in which Mr. vanity, was hidden under her nervous anxieAdolphus Snookes had been particular was ty; and he could not help surmising that the the choice of his attire-we were wrong-he expected guest, whom he gathered from the had been particular in the choice of a Mrs. general incidental hints to be a cousin, who Adolphus Snookes. He had chosen her as had been absent abroad for the last six years, he would have done a flower for his button-was, in fact, the cause of all poor Veronhole, or any other important thing which was ese's nervousness. to belong to himself, had been exceedingly particular in her height, and the colour of her hair, her eyes, her teeth, her hands, her feet, the way in which she sat, the way in which she walked. He was ambitious that it should be said that Mr. Adolphus Snookes had not discredited his taste in the selection of a Mrs. Adolphus Snookes, that she looked well sitting by his side in an open carriage with a feather in her bonnet, or kept good paces in French shoes, walking with him in a public promenade.

The only thing in which Mr. Adolphus Snookes was really particular was his dress -that, of course, formed a part of himself— was himself; established, in fact, his identity, since Mr. Adolphus Snookes could not have been the Mr. Adolphus Snookes which his reputation stamped him, without the testimony, signed, sealed, and delivered, of his hairdresser, his tailor, and his bootmaker.

A sort of mutiny at being obliged to wait tea so long at last brought up that equipage, and when the infusion had proved itself to be perfectly innocuous, by being perfectly colourless, and the muffins had kindly vacated their stations to show the patterns of the plates on which they had reposed, then, when, as the maid whispered to Veronese in a voice as loud as a stage "aside," which gallery, pit, and boxes are liberally intended to hear, that the kettle was drained quite dry, and the fire defunct, and the muffins all in the tomb of the Capulets,-why, then the expected guest, for whom in truth all had been provided, at last came.

In the midst of the confusion consequent on this new arrival, Lord Killikelly was seized with a capricious desire to replenish his cup, and he had the rudeness to stand with his back to Veronese in the face of the whole room.

The artist remained in his little back drawing-room, splashing on with his colours, merely giving a slightly contemptuous nod of immense superiority to each new-comer, and with a sort of sovereign scorn telling Lord Killikelly, who sat at his elbow, that these people had no feeling for the arts, only they were obliged to see them sometimes, and it pleased the women, (he took care to notice that his wife was not within hearing,) A fine sun-burnt fellow came-just such but for his part he considered it as so much as Veronese had described-black eyes, time thrown away. Meanwhile the compa- black hair, gay, intrepid, self-assured, good ny in the front drawing-room had arranged looks, and cheerfulness-just what women themselves according to their different in- love. clinations; the two cousins beginning to whisper together some strictly confidential communications relating to an anonymous love affair, Mrs. Phillicody and Mrs. Rowland being engaged, the one in boasting, the other in complaining, and the young married

Mr. Harry Hooke made the grand tour of the room. "Ah, my dear aunt Rowland, how well you are looking !"

"You never were more mistaken in your life. I am sure I am just going to have a fit of the tic douloureux-I feel all the symp

"Am I? Shall I shoot myself, or will you "O you disagreeable creature!" exclaim-order somebody else to save me the trouble?" ed Phoebe, coquettishly; "we won't speak to him-will we, Very dear?"

"I shall set my brother Mark to shoot you." "That will be making a mark of your cousin as well as your brother." "I think you miss the mark." "The miss hits the mark." "I the miss-you the mark." "The miss has certainly hit the mark this Am I time."