"I am smoking." "Then you should go into the garden to smoke." "It is the German fashion, my dear," said Frank, leaning back in his easy chair, and looking, that is so far as she could distinguish him, most provokingly comfortable. Caroline sat down also, and began to cough and feel almost choked, as she well might. "What do you say to sitting for your likeness?" asked Mr. Lormington. See, it is a regular meerschaum, and wants but that to complete it." Caroline put up her pretty lip without reply. And really grieved to see her looking so grave, and unlike herself-for at that moment she was calculating the probability of his present whim growing into a confirmed habit, and the damage already sustained by the white flowing draperies and pale blue damasks of her elegant drawingroom- -Mr. Lormington laid down his meerschaum, and came and placed himself by her side upon the sofa. "Oh, pray do not come too near!" exclaimed Caroline, shrinking back. “ Your breath smells horribly of smoke!" "Then you would not like a German husband after all, dearest!" Something of the real truth flashed over the mind of the self-convicted girl, as he drew her towards him; and with a scarcely audible "Forgive me, Frank," she laid her head upon his shoulder, and burst into tears-real tears! But smiles soon succeeded, and mutual confessions and forgivenesses were exchanged. "I believe I was too tetchy and impatient," said Mr. Lormington. "No, no," interrupted his wife; "it is I who have been very, very silly; but it is past now, and for ever!" And Caroline kept her word; her husband's meerschaum, which she insisted upon hanging over the mantel-piece in their usual sitting-room, although it was certainly not the most elegant adornment that could have been found, acting as a warning whenever she felt tempted to transgress. And to this day it is said that there is not a happier couple to be found for miles round; although she still talks occasionally of Germany, and Frank loves to hear her; and has promised to take her there again some day. She has had her lesson, and there is no fear now of her ever loving any place better than her own happy home. It is not unfrequent for the "Young Lady who has been Abroad," not only to be anxious to inform her friends, but the whole literary world of so important a fact. So that we have a summer in one place, an autumn in another, Glimpses, Sketches, Tours, Reminiscences, and Hand-books innumerable, perpetually issuing from the press, and scarcely to be distinguished one from another, except it may be by a slight variety in the title-page; or an extra quantity of romance, varying in general according to the age and natural temperament of the fair authorFrom the combined research of such narratives, we have often thought that a statistical ess. account might easily be drawn up, as to the average number of fine and wet days, "glorious sunsets," or storm-clad dells; good or bad dinners, and beds; the precise locality where an adventure may be expected; and the usual amount of sentiment and enthusiasm, English notions of comfort, and sometimes even of propriety annually expended in search of the picturesque. Travelling, without doubt, enlarges the mind; gives grace and variety to the conversation, although not always to the manners of an Englishwoman; but it should be enjoyed in the same home-loving spirit which led a dear friend of our own to exclaim, upon her return from a late continental tour, that the sweetest spot she had yet seen was her own fireside! If it teach us to look less cheerfully, less contentedly upon our native land, we had better never have gone; and we have lost, be sure of that, a thousand times more than we can by any possibility have gained. If the reminiscences of summer travel cannot bring sunshine to the winter hearth and homestead, oh suffer them not at least to throw a shadow. Taste in dress is peculiarly a woman's province, and a powerful assistant in the influence she is naturally so desirous of asserting in the minds of others; but let her beware of sacrificing too much even to this-of turning with a cold, heedless glance from her own starving countrywomen, her own national manufactures, the bulwarks of old England, in order to gratify a vitiated predilection for foreign novelties. We have wound up our brief sketch somewhat more seriously than was at first intended; but the evil is a growing one, and still spreading with vast and giant strides among the larger proportion of the daughters of England. And yet we verily believe that the " Young Lady who has been Abroad" is very far from incorrigible, and needs only to be laughed at, or reasoned with in a right and kindly spirit. THE SACRED THORN. [It is a tradition in the North of England, that there is a thorn, which upon the blessed day of the Nativity of our Saviour throws forth the richest blossom.] BY MRS. COLONEL MARIANNE HARTLY. Where grows the thorn, which ev'ry year Is it because a day so great, Or show the Christian, when he mourns, THE RIVER'S PHILOSOPHY. How nimbly down the mountain steeps With merry voice for aye resounding. Can hush thy song, delightful river: O'er glorious hopes for ever thwarted; On cruel words by lov'd ones spoken; Nor had I long'd for fame or gain, Nor had my heavy spirit broken. How dark so e'er might be the gloom In which my destinies were shrouded, I still had kept in every doom, The sunshine to the soul unclouded. Thus undismay'd by doubts or fears, Like thee, bright, merry-hearted river, Through calms or tempests, smiles or tears, On, on I'd go, rejoicing ever. C. J. D. THE OUTWARD BOUND. Sail on in all thy pageantry, And breast the billowy seas; For the slumbering waves are waking up Sail on, for now the sunbeam's kiss Shall deeper radiance throw, Sail on, rejoicing in thy course, Sail on, for soon the glowing skies They light the waves beneath; Sail on with faith, thy anchor sure, And hope's soft sunshine light, To guard thy steps at morn and noon; Whilst o'er thy moonlight flight Be calm and peace the stars that guide Thy steps upon the mighty tide. VIOLA. TWIN SONNETS. BY MRS. F. B. SCOTT. INGRATITUDE. O, saddest of earth's trials! when the heart To stem the current of the heart's wrecks wild: FORGIVENESS. Forgiveness-heavenly word! When harsh thoughts sweep In wild confusion through the troubled breast, As some pure sprite, endow'd with holy rest, Thou wav'st a wand of magic o'er the deep. A bright reward is theirs who, while they weep, Clasp close thy hand-a mighty one confest! Whose every word was with high truth imprestThat such, with pardon'd sins, should calmly sleep. And she, who in some sad, secluded spot, Can potent Passion with thy glance defy, Rewarding wrong with good-rememb'ring not The scorn and insult heap'd through years so high, Is more heroic than, 'mid brightest lot, To fall on battle-plain with shouts of victory! CONSUMPTION. (An Impromptu.) BY WILLIAM HENRY FISK. How stealthily Consumption o'er the frame There crept a hectic flush upon her cheek, Philosophy and evenness of temper are pearls which we purchase at the price of those vexations and crosses in life that occur to us almost every day. Nothing in this world is to be had for nothing. Every difficulty we surmount is the purchase of some advantage. THE RANDOM LIKENESS. CHAP. I. Certainly, my dear mother," said Paul Churchill, "what little talent I possess, I must have inherited from you: now that is quite a pretty picture you have just described; the outline is accurate, and the grouping of the figures I like particularly. Some years hence perhaps I may have no objection to occupying the respectable position in which you have sketched me; but not now, dear mother, I am too young and heedless yet; and you have spoiled me so much, that I don't know where I should find any one willing to put up with my waywardness as you do. Besides, jesting apart, the thing you are well aware is impossible." "Why impossible?" said Mrs. Churchill; "but I will not ask. You mean that you have not enough of this world's goods for yourself, and there I agree with you entirely; we only differ as to the first step to be taken in securing the needful addition. Stop now, fair sir, unbend that brow and put aside that haughty look of offended dignity for some occasion when it may be called for; I am not going to hint the possibility of your increasing your fortune by means of a wife, but only to say to you that I don't believe you ever will make any progress in life until you get one. You say you must succeed in your profession first; I say you will succeed afterwards. My dear son, there may be many things in the world that you understand much better than I; but believe me, I have not passed through life thus far blindfolded; and I have observed that a young man never does put forth all his strength in the race until he is fairly shackled with a wife; that he never keeps so steady a course as after he has taken upon himself the responsibilities of a married man." 66 Have I not as great responsibilities in my present position as any married man?" said Paul, in a sad, but affectionate tone. "Are you not, my dear mother, almost entirely dependent on my paltry exertions? Most ineffectual they have been, to be sure; but, if I am able to do so little to promote your comfort, would it not be madness in me to think of asking another to share our difficulties, for you acknowledge that it would not suit my style of character to turn fortune hunter?" "Yet, how often, my dear son," rejoined Mrs. Churchill, "have I seen it the case, that a young man has incurred the censure of his friends by rushing into what appeared to be an imprudent marriage, when that step itself seems to have turned the scales of fortune in his favour; and before long those very individuals who blamed him have found themselves obliged to confess that he could not have done a better thing. Take my word for it, Paul, you'll never do anything worth talking about until you have taken my advice. Ever since the world began such has been the course of things; very little is recorded of our first ancestor, except his falling into a deep sleep' until a helpmate was given him." Well, but," replied the young man, smiling, some might say that father Adam's marriage was not so advantageous an arrangement for him; the lady did not always give him the best advice in the world, you know." "I acknowledge," said Mrs. Churchill, "that woman did once mislead man, but you'll agree that she has somewhat made up for it since; and it is very evident that he could not have done as well without her, or she never would have been given to him." "Why, mother," said the young man, colouring up to the temples, yet trying to look unconcerned; "what in the world can have put such notions into your head?" My dear son," said Mrs. Churchill, shaking her head, and fixing on Paul her gentle eyes, "I have too long dwelt upon and studied that countenance not to be able to decipher with accuracy every change, however slight in its expression. For some time it has been evident to me that your spirits flagged more than was natural in one of your age and temperament. I have observed you again and again begin to picture, blot it out, and then, perhaps, throw aside your pencil entirely for a day; in short, you seem never to be satisfied with yourself." At any rate, I am not singular in that," replied Paul, with some bitterness, "for no one else seems to be satisfied with me." Mrs. Churchill hemmed down a sigh. "I will not stop now," said she, "to tell you whether I think you impatient or not, but will rather go on to explain why I felt impelled, this evening, thus to urge you; and why, although you will not allow me to lift the curtain, I have been unable to refrain from making some effort to give a happier turn to your thoughts, evidently, of late, somewhat burdensome to you. I will confess, then, my son, that it is in consequence of having overheard some of your words. I was coming to your room this morning to make some request of you-I forget what-when my steps were arrested by the sound of your voice. Supposing at first that a visitor was with you, I was about to withdraw; but there was so much bitterness in your tone, that it kept me a listener, in spite of myself. No,' you said, 'I will blot it out, and never suffer my pencil to wander in such a course again: what have I to do with arched brows and silken lashes? Why do I mix and grind my colours to imitate the soft hue of beauty's cheek, or the bright tint of her lip? It does but remind me that I can never hope to render homage to the lovely original; that stern fortune has placed my lot beyond that pale where dwells the sort of creature for which alone I feel that I could live. No, I will blot it out, and force my fancy to embody and my pencil to trace only such subjects as may be profitable in my straitened circumstances.' You said more, I believe, but all to the same purpose your door stood ajar, and I could see upon your canvas the outline of a female face. I did not speak to you at the time, for I thought your voice seemed agitated; but this evening I could not restrain myself. Now let me ask you my dear Paul, why should not beauty's eye beam for you? Why should not her lip respond to your vow of affection?" "Pshaw! my dearest mother," replied Paul, looking half provoked, half miserable at these words, "that was only a painter's rhapsody. You think me a genius, and geniuses are, you know, subject to flights of imagination; I thought I had been wasting my time, and published my own disgrace by scolding myself aloud." "But why should the drawing a beautiful female face be a waste of time, Paul?" his birth, she had given up all her heart to loving him; all her time to instructing and taking care of him; and as he outgrew her tuition, all her worldly goods to the securing him every advantage, every means of improvement within her reach. She had even made several imprudent sacrifices in order to enable him to cultivate his peculiar talent to the utmost. This talent, she fully believed, would one day meet with its due share of patronage; but, while it was her constant effort to fill her son's breast with the same bright hopes that cheered her own, time passed on, and Paul continued to be nothing more than the poor artist, as he, half in joke, half in sad earnestness, continued to call himself. Their diminished means-never indeed much more than a decent competencenow scarcely sufficed, with all Mrs. Churchill's rigid economy, to secure to them the comforts which habit had rendered necessaries; and Paul still, either through want of patronage, too much diffidence, or a course of ill luck failing to attract any notice at all profitable to him, found himself obliged to depend either entirely on his mother's slender income, which he could not bear the idea of burthening with his own maintenance, or to descend to the mechanical and, as it appeared to him, servile employment of preparing pictures for a neighbouring print "You should remember I have engaged to finish some pictures for Mr. Higson's shopwindow; and it struck me that perhaps some chubby children and silky poodles would be more suitable to a print-shop; besides, I will confess to you I think it best to keep such no-shop. tions out of my head." "My dear son, allow me to say I differ from you in opinion; they are very good, very wise, very commendable notions. Pray, now, don't be so silly as to banish womankind even from your very canvas. Besides, you should remember, if you are so set against encouraging the advances of the tender passion, the observation made by historians that many more thousands are killed in a flight than a battle; so, by way of turning your face against the enemy, pray set to work at once; finish the pretty girl; make her as beautiful as you can imagine Eve to have been in Paradise; and whether she appear first in a print-shop or a gallery, I feel certain she will do more for you than all the children and poodles in the country. The fact is, Paul, you are growing rather savage, and the face of a pretty woman looking at you from your canvas will humanise you a little." “Well,” said Paul, making, as it seemed a desperate effort to shake off his gloom, "I will finish the picture, mother, if you will promise me one thing, which is, that you never urge me to render any other homage to the fair sex, or express my admiration of this part of the creation farther than by imitating their beauty on canvas; will you be satisfied with that?" Certainly, my son, if you are," said Mrs. Churchill. Here the entrance of the tea-tray broke off the conversation. CHAP. II. The admired and idolized Paul was Mrs. Churchill's only child. Left a widow soon after Paul one day took up his hat to visit some painting which had just arrived in the city, fresh from the hand of one of the most celebrated artists of the day. The picture proved worthy of the flourish of trumpets by which it had been announced; and as he gazed and dwelt with delight on each line of beauty, Paul hugged himself in the idea that he had decidedly rejected the notion of quitting the glorious craft, and felt disposed, with every breath he drew, to exclaim-“ Ed io anche un Pittore !” While he was thus engrossed, his "eye, in a fine frenzy rolling," encountered a pair of large blue orbs which, although almost hidden by the long dark lashes which shaded them, were still plainly to be distinguished as "deeply, darkly, beautifully blue." They belonged to a young girl who stood within a few steps of him, leaning upon the arm of an elderly gentleman, whose entrance had not been observed by Paul, so completely was he engrossed by the painting. The most glossy raven hair, suiting well with the dark shade of the above-mentioned eyelashes, was simply parted on a forehead white as the new-fallen snow, and as free from every trace of care or passion as if not pertaining to a descendant of her who "was first in the transgression;" the cheek might have been called pale, but, beside the lip, the brightest coral must needs have blushed for shame. thought Paul, as he drew a long suppressed sigh, and resolutely turned his eyes back upon the picture, "a substitute shines brightly as a king," only "unless a king be by;" there is no mimicking the workmanship of Heaven; the pencil even of Dubufe cannot vie with "Nature's own sweet and cunning hand.” “Ah!” 66 as While these ideas passed through his mind, the room was getting filled with visitors; but the young lady, only occasionally withdrawing her eyes from the painting to return the salutation of some passing acquaintance, seemed entirely occupied by it: a few observations to the gentleman whom she addressed Papa" reached Paul's ear. "What a just taste!" thought he; "what lovely enthusiasm! She knows how to appreciate the genius she was born to inspire; and what a silver voice! How has she monopolized all the fairy gifts which are generally divided among women?" Thus the young artist stood, as if spell-bound, striving to fix his eyes upon the picture, but ever and anon suffering them to wander from it to the breathing loveliness beside him. At length the gentleman, in an affectionate tone, reminded his daughter that his time was not that morning entirely at his command, but offered to return with her the next day, if she should wish it. Just at that moment it struck Paul that it would suit the arrangement of his time quite as well to postpone any farther study of the picture until the morrow; and, drawn by a witchcraft, of which he was the unconscious thrall, he followed closely after the pair. This step did not tend to diminish his danger; the outline of the figure, the graceful walk, the very manner in which she leaned upon her father's arm, the gentle dependence with which she seemed to cling to him, were all in perfect keeping with the beauty that had taken captive the enthusiastic young artist. But oh! the transientness of every earthly pleasure! Fearing that others might read in his looks the admiration which he felt conscious his eye betrayed, he withdrew his gaze for a moment, to speak to some one, and in that moment she was gone. To-morrow came, and did not, as is so common in this work-a-day world, bring disappointment with it; the sun shone brightly, and the exhibition room was again adorned by its living as well as inanimate attraction. The beautiful girl, apparently forgetful of the loveliness which her mirror had just before presented her, seemed easily to tire at gazing upon the superb imitation of life presented in the picture. Paul spent his time as he did the day before, telling himself he was studying the fine specimen of Art, but feeling that he was pouring out his whole soul in admiration of the far excelling work of Nature. Several times they met at the place of exhibition, and each time Paul took in large draughts of excitement, which one moment seemed to lend life a charm it knew not before, and the next to render all that had hitherto been attractive to him "flat, stale, and unprofitable." At length the spell was broken; the picture was packed up, to be transported to other scenes, and there seemed no prospect that he should ever again catch a glimpse of his beautiful incognita. Then it was that Paul became sensible how dangerous a pleasure he had been indulging in. It was evident, from several circumstances which (absorbed as was his attention by the poetry of her beauty and grace) Paul could not help observing, that fortune had not denied her favours to the one whom nature seemed to have taken such pleasure in adorning : all the insignia of wealth attended her; beautiful apparel, handsome equipage, &c., while he had little or nothing to do with the circle in which alone he could expect to meet her; for, although conscious that his birth and education entitled him to association with any, he had yet ever shrunk with nervous sensitiveness from the society of such as, although often inferior to him in all but the adventitious circumstance of wealth, he yet felt painfully apprehensive might not consider him as an equal. Ah, yes," sighed he, when forced into sober thought by the recollection of these stern realities, "I ought not to wish again to meet her. What can she ever be to me but a form of beauty, a triumphant evidence of nature's exceeding and all surpassing skill? Is it not madness in me even to think of her? to employ my imagination in striving to sketch the outline of the gentle spirit which speaks with such bewitching animation from her soft eye? No, I will be more wise, and endeavour to make some profit of this delightful incident in my life. The recollection of her beauty shall give an edge to my fancy, and impart a more soaring tendency to the powers which seem to have flagged latterly, for want, perhaps, of this very excitement." CHAPTER III. Having formed this resolution, Paul Churchill flew to his study; obedient memory readily conjured up the desired image; and for some time he gave his days and nights the delightful task of fashioning a likeness of his "bright particular star." It was not easy, however, to satisfy his own fastidiousness. The picture was touched and re-touched, put aside and resumed; but long before it was completed he began to see that-philosopher as he thought himselfhe had been most unwise in the choice of an occupation. He found that he had been cherishing and keeping in his breast the very arrow which had destroyed his tranquillity; and now, with the impetuosity natural to his enthusiastic temperament, he resolved at once to draw it out, and force his thoughts away from beauty, with all its fascinations. He was in this mood when his mother overheard him soliloquizing as above-mentioned. Having reasoned herself into the belief that in urging him to follow the bent of his inclinations, she at the same time advocated a step which would further his success in life; and ever anxious to speak to him fitly and in season, she had, after watching and waiting for an opportunity, ventured to begin the conversation in which we find the mother and her son engaged on the evening of our first introduction to them. A mother's zeal had shown itself in all that Mrs. Churchill had said; and her words went not without their reward; at least, she had the satisfaction of seeing a degree of animation im、 |