suffer wretchedness himself, before he makes a declaration which, if favourably received, must necessarily involve the object of his affection in perils, in necessity, and all the precarious embarrassments of an uncertain life. Francis pictured himself and his Fanny domesticated, perhaps, in some wretched lodging, ill furnished, and ill served, in a miserable and obscure part of the metropolis; discarded and branded as unnatural and ungrateful rebels by her parents; existing on the casual labours of his mind, and depending even for those upon the possession of health and sanity; and, while existing thus unknown and unnoticed, poor and friendless, giving being perhaps to children, accursed by their angry relatives even in the womb!-He trembled at the scene he had painted to himself; he laid his head on his open hands, and covering his eyes, prayed for support in this hour of trial. The appeal was conclusive. Morality and honour were already combined to check his progress: but when religion came to his aid, and he considered that in the sight of his Maker his conduct could not be reconcileable with the duty he owed to Rodney; when he remembered that, to gratify his own passions, he was about to induce her, whom he fondly loved, to violate a still more sacred duty than that which it had been in his contemplation previously to infringe, he felt the strengthening glow of confidence in himself, which bade him live and hope, but yet to do to others, as he would they should do unto him. He raised his burning forehead from his open palm, and gazing round the room, found himself alone ;-a few tears trickled down his manly cheeks, but he was firm; and though his heart beat, it was true to virtue and himself, and he faintly invoked a blessing upon her for whom he had thus resolved to yield up all his future hopes of happiness on earth, when the shrill blast of the horn announced the approaching departure of the coach in which his place was secured. In seven hours he would be near her ;-see the light beam through the window where she slept ;-pace again the well-known church-yard path; again see the pale moon glitter in the rippling stream. He would stand in the presence of his beloved-would snatch her from the altar, even at the moment when else she would become another's wife-in those few hours she would be his eternally, or be lost to him for ever. The horn sounded again, to summon the loitering traveller :-he moved not; his teeth were clenched, and his hands clasped : -the moments seemed to linger :-would his resolution fail him now?—He heard the guard inquiring for "the inside passenger :"-he rose mechanically, took his hat, -paused for a moment, looked towards the door▬▬▬▬ The waiter appeared to tell him, " that all was ready;" -the porter held his portmanteau in his hand,-the guard hastened the coachman,-the horses pawed the pavement. "Now, Sir," said the guard to Francis. He again paused for an instant, and then said, faintly yet firmly, "I am not going." An oath or two at the needless delay which he had occasioned, followed, and in an instant the mail rattled like thunder beneath the gateway. Francis ran to the front window of the coffee-room ;--he saw the coach pass rapidly ;--he watched it as far as the bay of the window allowed ;--he listened to the horn as it pealed through the streets, and to the noise of the wheels as they rolled along the pavement;--the carriage disappeared from his sight, and the sound died away in the air. Francis gazed vacantly on the street for a moment ; then sinking on the bench before which he had been standing, covered his face with his hands, and shed a flood of tears. It was indeed a struggle ;--but virtue and honour had gained the victory, and PASSION was subdued by PRINCIPLE. CHAPTER IX. ""Tis a very fine thing to be father-in-law COLMAN THE YOUNGER. We left Sir Frederick Brashleigh, as the reader may remember, just commencing a round of rural gaieties with the family of his betrothed. In the anxiety of Rodney to do honour to the visit of his future son-in-law, he had recourse to a measure which many of my readers, perhaps, will join with most of his supporters, in thinking extremely unwise. It was neither more nor less than making a vacation at an unusual time of the year, promising, of course, to omit the Bartholomew-tide holidays, which, in the hope of its being somehow assimilated with public schools, were always kept at Somerville House. This arrangement, strongly remonstrated against by many of the parents whose children were under his care, proved as inconvenient to them as it was agreeable to himself; parties which had been made months before, were all to be unmade; proposed excursions were to be postponed or hurried over; in short, the results of this unexpected removal of the boys were most disagreeable and even distressing, as we shall discover in the sequel; the lads, however, were packed up, and sent per chaise and per coach to their respective homes. The dinnerhall used by them, was to be fitted up for the reception of the gay party, to be invited to a déjeuner à la fourchette, and the school-room decorated and prepared for a dance, which Mrs. Rodney had long promised to give the neighbouring young ladies, and which never could be more seasonably afforded than at the present moment, when Sir Frederick would be delighted by the splendid ex hibition of rural beauty, which he had been taught to expect. As for Sir Frederick himself, all the symptoms of. distaste for the society of the Rodney circle, which his excellency had early exhibited, gradually increased every day; and nothing but the respect he felt for Fanny's feelings and his own dignity, induced him to postpone the ceremony, which was irrevocably to make her his own. At Mrs. Ewebright's dinner his excellency was compelled to give a succinct account of the origin of the Order of the Bath, and was moreover requested by some of the old ladies to be good enough to take off his star, (which it delighted him much to wear,) that they might look at it, and it was actually handed round the room like a musical snuff-box, or any other indifferent trinket. The innumerable questions which arose out of this extraordinary exhibition, the incalculable quantity of nonsense which the admiring fools talked, had nearly roused the tiger; and if his excellency had (as he felt very much inclined to do) favoured them with an exhibition of his temper when irritated, it is not improbable, that even the ambition of Rodney itself would have given way to the apprehensions for his daughter's happiness, which such a display could not have failed to excite. : But it was not to be; and every thing was destined to go on smoothly and pleasantly; the countenance of the broken-spirited, broken-hearted Fanny, was the only one unlighted by the smiles of happiness which beamed around her in the gaiety of the younger ladies, it must be confessed, something like envy mingled; and the significant glances cast upon the cowslip-coloured commander-in-chief, by those, who, matured in the rural recesses of their father's farms and manor-houses, felt that any one of themselves would have been a much more suitable wife for such a man as Sir Frederick, Fanny, were too clear in their import to be for a moment mistaken. than Fanny had never been told by her father that the sacrifice which she was about to make for his sake, would not avail him under the circumstances, in the manner which he at first imagined it would; had she known the real state of the case, the chances are, that she would have contributed to the utmost to divert the affections of her captive from herself, and assist in their transfer to some more ambitious fair; as it was, she felt that she was doing a duty, and resolved to perform her part with becoming firmness and resolution. In the midst of these determinations, the kind, sweet spirit of female affection stole in ; she had at first (since I must be candid) been a little piqued at Welsted's sudden abdication; she knew his heart well enough implicitly to believe all he had said the night preceding his departure, and was convinced that her future good. was the real object he had in view; but she felt agonized when she found he had actually gone without leaving one line, or one word of remembrance for her: nor was it till she saw--and may I reveal it?--not with the curiosity so idly and unfairly attributed to her sex, but with an interest deeper than those who never loved can understand--had read the letter which her lost Francis had written to her father--that letter which, in the hurry of the old gentleman's gaieties, not only remained unanswered, but was even incautiously left loosely amongst his ordinary papers on his writing-table. From that letter Fanny learned the place of residence of her beloved; by that letter she first ascertained his safety; by that letter she discovered what were his future prospects; in that letter she heard that he had been kindly received by the Rutherfords; all of which were deeply interesting points to her, who had no care for any thing on earth but him whom she was never more to see. And what of these? they soothed and consoled her-she knew he was well, with a prospect of employment, with an increasing, honourable connexion; these, watchfully alive to every thing which could benefit him, tended, doubtlessly, to appease her apprehensions and calm her mind. For, since the arrival of the general, not one word had passed between Fanny and her father on the subject of Welsted; and though his name was introduced and al |