for going to rest frequently found him wandering in the fields far from any human habitation.

The peremptory refusal of Miss R. was, of course, disapproved of by her family, and, perhaps, led to some chidings on their part which induced her the more readily to the step which she took not long after. The regiment of her lover being ordered to Ireland, he came to the neighbourhood to see her, if possible, before his departure. His efforts proved successful; and, after some time, he prevailed on her to elope with him. The fugitives were traced to London, where it was discovered they had been clandestinely married, and had afterwards set off for Ireland. When Charles was informed of her flight, a sudden calm seemed to come upon him, which was almost more frightful than his former wildness. He asked leave to accompany her father in the pursuit, and his services were accepted. During the journey he scarcely spoke a word, except to urge the postillions to greater speed; and when Mr. R. announced his determination to follow his daughter to Ireland, Charles still resolved to accompany him.

Having learned that Captain M. and his lady had gone to the county of Wicklow, hither they followed, and soon found their residence. They reached the house just as the objects of their search were returning from a walk. When Louisa saw her father, she uttered a piercing shriek, and rushed into the house. Captain M. turning about-" Villain?" said the old man, "what have you done?"—" However indignant I may be, sir, at such an expression," said he "to you I cannot resent it. No other man should dare to use such language to me."-"I-I dare, sir," said Charles : "I call you villain.”

The subsequent events of such language it would be superfluous to mention. Suffice it to say, as the consequence, the parties met at day-break the next morning. A ball from his antagonist's pistol passed through the collar of Charles's coat without injury to him. He discharged his own pistol in the air. "Fire again, sir," said he, "I am ready."—" I cannot, until you fire at me," said Captain M.—“ That I shall not

do," said Charles; "I had no right to use the expression I did towards you: despair has rendered me mad."

Retiring from the ground uninjured, save in feelings, they separated; but poor Charles was never seen more alive. I have since visited the place where he terminated his existence and his sorrow. It was a wild and gloomy lake, closed in, except at one narrow pass, by lofty and overhanging hills. Just opposite to the opening, the cliff rises to an immense height, and frowns over the dark waters, which, even in the brightest time of the year, dash against the opposing banks with a chilling and gloomy murmur. His footsteps were traced along the precipitous and dangerous path which leads to the summit of the cliff: the marks of his knees were visible in the path at the extreme point.

A man who had passod that way, said he heard the plunge, but life must have been almost extinct before he reached the water. He was buried in a little rural church yard near the fatal place.

THE VISITOR'S FAREWELL.

BY M. L. B.

Adieu!-adieu !-kind friends;
Nay-do not press my stay,
Since some few symptoms hint
"Twere well I were away;

But this your tutor❜d lips
Are too polite to speak;
Let not my candour then

Bring shame o'er any cheek,

Though but a month has pass'd,
My welcome I've out-staid;
Then-should our parting hour
Be needlessly delay'd?

Hush!-hush!-pray don't be "shock'd ;"
Nor say, I "slander" you,
And" cannot know your thoughts;"

I'll prove my statements true.

Your saucy servants scowl,
And mutter at me-why?
Only the dogs are tame,
That were at first so shy.
Ah, no!—crave not my stay-
The fact is far too clear-
That" making me AT HOME,"
Ye fancy I'm not here!

Therefore-Adieu !—Adieu !—
Nor deem my candour bold;
By these few things, and more
Than I'll reveal-I'm told
What an expense I am-

A trouble-and a pest:
Farewell!-but long 'twill be
Ere I'm again your guest!

THE PINK OF POLITENESS.

A SKETCH BY J. STRINGER.

LADY ARABELLA HONEYMOUTH was altogether so useful, so exemplary a character, and conferred such vast benefits on the world in general, during her "day and generation," that it would be both criminal and ungrateful did not her Ladyship find some one to biographize her merits, and hand them down, with all "their blushing honours thick upon them," to a wonder-struck and admiring posterity. With this amiable view the task has been undertaken, which is thus entered upon without further circumlocution.

Herladyship was the only daughter of her venerable parent; and after undergoing all the minor polishes which young ladies of her rank receive at those preparatory schools to which fashion has lent her signet, she was transplanted to her father's mansion, where she added to the long list of her various accomplishments the dancing the last new quadrilles, and the playing the Hunting Chorus in "Der Freischutz." The force of

human knowledge could no further go, and it was wisely determined to launch the lady Arabella at once into the intoxicating whirlpool of high life.

The winter came, and King Almack shone forth in all his glory; and soon to the annhiliation of his titled votaries, the Lady Arabella shot along. Her beauty was universally acknowledged, and stripling marquesses, and new-fledged dukes contended for the honour of her hand. This was deliciousdance succeeded dance-and, during the season, morn always broke upon this daughter of Terpsichore ere her night was done. Pale cheeks and hollow eyes were the consequence : but she very magnanimously, and as properly, determined to die a martyr at the altar of fashion, and consequently run the gauntlet of every rout and "drum," to which she was invited. But, 66 curse on the Fates," just as she had made up her mind on which titled lover she would rivet her chains at Gretna, there occurred an accident, which, as it was quite unforeseen by her, she very rationally thought had no right to occur her father died! This was unfortunate, in more ways than, one for Lady Arabella; not having been born before nerves came into fashion, she favoured her domestics with the choisest assortment of hysteric laughs and fainting fits ever witnessed. These, with the assistance of burnt feathers and hartshorn, were got the better of, and she diverted her ennui by superintending mourning, which might be deemed fashionable, for her father's funeral; and having made the discovery that black set off her complexion, she, very naturally, was not a little rejoiced at an event which would again introduce her to the world of fashion, with a new claim to its admiration. After the ceremony of inhumation was performed, wishing to do what was strictly accordant with true politeness, she dispatched cards, in every direction, to all her friends, returning them her thanks for the kind inquiries they had never made; and even wrote an order to her staymaker, on paper that wore a suit of sables" at its edge. Supercilious people may contend, that with all this formality the heart had nothing to do;

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