until the coach was just passed him, with one single spring jumped into his seat.

I was far too much amused with my merry companion to wish to quit his society, although my position on the hard coach top had long ceased to be desirable; and not unwilling to gratify his vanity, I observed that I was afraid he would have been left behind.

"Noticed my knack, did you, sir? believe I do manage it well-but there is a way of doing every thing. I began my line of life when quite a boy-first as a stable lad-then, on account of my superior manner, promoted to an office lad-sent out with the parcel cart-then chief porter and at length mail-coach guard-all for my manner and superior address; aothing, sir, but those natural abilities to get me on. I was, indeed, always a lad of uncommon parts, and had always a way of doing the thing."

"I have no doubt. But pray why leave the office for your present post? I should have thought your former situation much more comfortable—perhaps not so lucrative?"

as

"Nothing, sir, mere nothing-if it rains, I put on my coat, which has weathered many a storm-if dry, why it is but putting it off again-if cold, I muffle up--if hot, dress light-I am always hearty-never ail; for I do not, coachee, fill my inside with combustibles. When my time comes for rest I sleep like a top, and awake strong and hearty and fit for any thing. What, sir, are a few dusts and storms, or even upsets? Can you tell me what state of life is free from such? I think I have as few as any, and quite as many pleasures. Only notice the cheerful smiles that salute one as we pass along, not even the king himself could have more, and not perhaps half so sincere; only think how all the pretty girls, wherever we stop, are delighted with the attentions of Mr. Guard, and seek his favour. I think, sir, you cannot possibly have considered all these things before."

"Most certainly not, guard; and I

am the more indebted to you for thus opening my eyes to see the advantages of your enviable condition."

"You're vastly welcome, sir, I'm sure; always glad to be of use."

My sides, however, and adjacent parts now became so sore from my unyielding resting place, that I was at length compelled to change my position. I did this, however, with the less regret, as we were now approaching the end of our stage; and although by my removal I could no longer converse with my philosopher, I had the better opportunity of observing his proceedings.

At almost all the cottages at the entrance of the village, were some of the inhabitants waiting to see us pass by. My friend seemed to know them alland all him. "How are you Betty?" "Better John." "Quite hearty, I see, Dick," passed about with the air of an old acquaintance. If he saw a pretty girl; Ah, Polly, you rogue! if you ogle me in that ere wicked way, I'll tell Thomas;" or if an ugly one, "How do, my dear?" He had a word for every one, and every one seemed pleased with it. He seemed, indeed, in every thing to have a way of doing the thing; even in the meanest offices of his situation, there was evidently a manner peculiar to himself.

While changing the horses he marched round the coach, examined the linch pins, and scrutinized our new team in a most knowing philosophical manner, and then, stretching himself out, strutted up and down the inn yard with no inconsiderable effect.

A rosy cheeked damsel, with her milkpail, at this juncture passed by our vehicle. "Fie, Sally!" called out my gentleman, putting his hand before his face in mock sheepishness, "to follow me in this fashion; you might at least wait until we're married."

The girl laughed, "Marry you, indeed!"

"To be sure, Sally; you pretend to be shy, do you? but never mind, we understand each other-I say, Sally," he feigned a whisper, "when's the happy day? I'm all impatience."

66

Nay, nay, it's not come to that yet, however."

"I say, Tom," he continued, addressing the ostler, who stood grinning with open jaws, "now be 'ant she always running arter me?"

Ay, Mr. Charles, she be; and she'd you too if she durst."

Then, egad, I'll accommodate her,"

exclaimed the gentleman, as, suiting the action to the word, he seized her by the waist and gave her a hearty kiss.

The girl did not seem to take it much amiss-she vented, indeed, her pretended indignation with much seeming effect on the poor ostler, who still stood grinning, and who, no doubt, would gladly have come in for his share of the bliss. But, after well boxing him, she appeared in no hurry to get away, and still lingered to hear the guard's "Never mind, Sally, we'll be man and wife by this time next month."

66

My word," thought I, "if this be a part of the advantages of his situation, it certainly possesses some enviable satisfactions," for the lass was so really pretty, that I could not altogether avoid envying him his better fortune myself. He might, indeed, have read my thoughts, for, after giving an extra strut or two, he observed to the poor ostler, "You see, Tom, how the girls like us guards," and then smacking his lips, as much as to say, 66 Egad, how sweet it was," tuned up, 66 Away with melancholy," and looked more conceited than ever. "Hang the fellow's impudence," I mentally interjected; "but he certainly has a way of doing the thing." I know not how far his philosophy may be good, but at all events I can answer for his practice-such are most certainly some of the charms of life, there's no denying that, however. It would seem too, to be a natural consequence of his situation, for he took it so entirely as a matter of course. I must however admit, that it was quite a new inquiry to me, and that I had most certainly never considered all these things before.

A STORY OF THE SOUTH OF FRANCE.

PASSING through the south of France in the autumn of 1828, I heard related the particulars of the following story. The events, which were then of recent occurrence, had excited deep and general commiseration, and they are, indeed, as tragical as any that have darkened the annals of domestic life.

About the close of the preceding spring, a lady arrived at Bayonne, accompanied by a youth of delicate and prepossessing appearance. He was her only son; on whom, since his father's death, her hopes more anxiously depended, but whose

declining state of health at this time had rendered her fears predominant. Indications of constitutional weakness had of late given some grounds to dread the approach of consumption; and by the advice of her physician, and prompted by her own apprehensions, Madame Armand had journeyed with her son from their home in Normandy, to seek for him the more beneficial climate of the southern provinces, which, with the change of scene, it was hoped, would check the threatened advance of this malady. Madame Armand had some letters of introduction to Bayonne, in whose neighbourhood it was her intention to procure a residence for her son, and it was her desire to board him with some respectable family, where he would be secure of the attentions so grateful to the invalid, and might enjoy the cheerfulness of society, without being exposed to its irritations and fatigue. In answer to her inquiries on this subject, she was given to understand that the advantages she was in quest of were likely to be obtained, could a pension be procured in the family of Salicetti, a farmer-general, very favourably known, and who possessed a mansion pleasantly situated in the vicinity of Bayonne.

Having received the most agreeable impression from the beauty and air of repose which hung around the scenery of Chateau Valette, she sought an interview with Salicetti. She stated to him the object of her visit, and felt disappointed when he evinced some reluctance to meet with her proposal. There was much, however, to excite interest in the appearance of the young man himself, and the maternal solicitude expressed in the countenance of Madame Armand had the effect of awakening in the wife of Salicetti a sympathy which passes quick between the breasts of mothers, and which, in the present instance, pleaded powerfully in behalf of the former lady, who, before her departure, had the gratification to find that Salicetti had acceded with cordiality to her wishes. In a few days, Henry Armand became an inmate of Chateau Valette, and his mother, with reanimated hopes, bade farewell to the family, returning to the north, from whence necessary affairs did not permit her to be longer absent.

The character of Salicetti was one which wins the good will of mankind, and not undeservedly. Its features were free from the guise of art, or the tricks of cold and artificial politeness. With

a little deficiency of exterior softness, he was a man endowed with generous feeling, and with honourable principles, in the expression of which he was always prompt and sincere. He possessed, perhaps over highly, the glowing temperament of his Pyrenean clime, but its ebullitions, though liable to be misdirected, naturally tended to the side of liberality and justice. By the careful improvement of a slender patrimony, and by his frank and honest bearing, he had advanced his station in society, and had eventually become one of the most respected of that class in France denominated farmers-general. He had married a young and pretty provençale of good connexions, to whose beauty he was not insensible, but in whose gentle affections, and characteristic virtues as a wife, he had still greater reason of reconcilement to the domestic lot. And though some few years younger than himself, the inequality was not such as to be incompatible with the relationship they had mutually formed. daughter had been the fruit of their union; little Madeline, a child now four years old, whose beauty and airy play diffused within their compass a summer gladness, and drew still closer around her parents the ties of home. Prizing thus the happiness which flowed within the circle of his dwelling, we may explain the doubtful acquiescence of Salicetti in the admission of a stranger to his fireside, where even trivial changes are sometimes apprehended, as sufficient to alter the current of accustomed and cherished enjoyment.

One

Among their dependents, and the neighbouring villagers, Salicetti with his wife, enjoyed a merited popularity. He was the liberal patron of the village festival, where his presence was hailed with pleasure, and in vintage time was happy to promote those rustic gaieties, so congenial to the spirit of that jocund season. His wife, while indulgent to this holyday gladness, had yet stronger claims on the hearts in many a cottagehome. She was a "friend in misery too," and to the sorrowing and the sick was ever a willing visitor-exercising the charities of a benevolent nature-and diffusing, by her gentle sympathy with human ills, more benefit and solace than the hand of science is often able to bestow. Need we then wonder that, in "huts where poor men live," so many tongues were ready to welcome and bless the wife of Salicetti?

Henry Armand soon became domesticated in Chateau Valette. Obliging and unaffected manners wore away all feeling of restraint, and his society communicated an agreeable interchange of thought and event to the little circle of Salicetti. He was a lover of nature, and had a taste for scenery, formed amid the landscapes of his native Normandy. To gratify this taste, and as promotive of health, he frequently accompanied Salicetti to various parts of the country, which, in the course of his avocations, the latter had occasion to visit; and it was not long ere he felt the restorative agency of exercise, and the cheerful impressions from new and smiling objects. When not engaged in these excursions, his time was pleasantly occupied with books, with music, and other tasteful pursuits, or in visiting with Madame Salicetti, for kindly purposes, the surrounding cottages, where he was received with a simple and hearty regard. Such were the circumstances at Chateau Valette, producing an amount of happiness, which they who try the more ambitious modes of life have seldom purchased, with all their "means and appliances to boot." But change is the doom of mortality, and there is little security for human joys. Of this, the sequel to the history of Salicetti affords a melancholy instance; and it needs not to dwell long on its painful recital.

There are some in the world so unenviably constituted, that to them the happiness of others is an offence, and a joy it is to see the fabric of that happiness destroyed. One of this class had already marked Salicetti for a victim, and commenced to execute the plan of his malignity. One night the following anonymous letter was handed to Salicetti :-" Salicetti, a friend bids you take heed-be not careless of your honour with the stranger and your wife." The suggestion had the effect, for a moment, of sickening the soul of Salicetti; but it quickly gave way to a sounder feeling, to the confidence, hitherto unshaken, in the virtue of his wife, and to a rush of burning indignation at the vile asperser of his house. Regard to the feelings of others prevented him from making any disclosure of the circumstance, and he had himself nearly succeeded in banishing the irritation from his own thoughts, when another secret and similar communication reached him. This was less laconie than the first, insidiously adducing each

"thin, airy circumstance as confirmations of unfaithful conduct, and giving such a colour to particulars as was fitted to kindle and mislead the open and too vehement temper of Salicetti-finally, professing that nothing save a disinterested zeal for his honour could have induced the writer to inflict the laceration of a recital so unhappy.

The contending emotions which were now excited, Salicetti struggled vainly to allay. The poison had been absorbed, and rankled with a subtle power. At times, when the conviction that his fears were causeless had almost prevailed, and his breast felt relieved of a hideous oppression, would withering doubts return, and wrap his thoughts in darkness. But it is easy to conceive the progress of a passion so well known, in a mind whose character was more passionate far than reflective. It is sufficient to state, that the unhappy Salicetti soon suffered all the wretchedness of a "mind diseased." Difficult as was the task, he had hitherto been able to control his emotions before the individuals, unconsciously their cause, nor had he practised any unworthy artifice to confirm or impeach the innocence of the suspected parties. But this state of restraint and suspense was too intolerable to be long endured, and he resolved to end it. He accordingly intimated one morning that he had to set out on business for the little town of C, which would detain him for a few days. His intention was to return unexpectedly at night, prepared with some fitting reason for having deferred his journey till the following day.

Night came, and Henry Armand had retired to rest, accompanied by little Madeline, whose childish fancy to sleep with him had occasionally been indulged. Her mother had completed the last domestic cares, and was also about to seek repose, when a person called to solicit her presence for a little in a cottage hard by. A young girl lay there very ill, in whom she was much interested, and she proceeded straightway to the cottage. While she was forth on this benevolent errand, Salicetti entered the garden, which lay extended behind the chateau. It was a dewy eve-one of more than ordinary beauty-the moonlight sleeping sweetly on the banks, and the air full of lingering aromas, exhaled during the day from a thousand flowers. They, who with unquiet thoughts have been placed in scenes of

such placid repose, can tell what an exquisite appreciation they have of their beauty, which yet they cannot enjoy for the care within. As Salicetti approached his dwelling, every object around him was fitted to fill the sense with pleasure, but these only made him now feel more acutely the loss of his internal peace. Judging from the stillness within, that the household was at rest, he advanced to the door which opened on the garden, and felt inly startled at finding it open; he entered softly, and proceeded to the chamber of his wife. To avoid alarm by too abrupt an entrance, he knocked gently on the door, but to this summons no reply, of course, could be returned. Pausing yet a moment, he entered the room-his eye quickly searched and found it vacant. The imagination may picture the effect of this discovery on the morbid mind of Salicetti. Driven by a crowd of distempered fancies, he hurried to the apartment of Henry Armand.

Through the latticed window the moon-beams streamed into the little chamber. Salicetti beheld two reposing forms, and deemed that the proof of his dishonour was before him. In frenzied rashness he drew a poniard from his breast, plunging it into the bosom of her he believed his guilty wife. Scarcely was the fatal act committed, when his ear caught the sound of a light coming footstep. Heturned-he called aloud

Who goes there?" His wife appeared. She stood with looks of anxiety and surprise. Salicetti was smote as if an unearthly apparition had met his gaze. He stood, but for a while had no voice of utterance to her inquiries. At length, between the pauses of hot and hurried breathing, he put a few eager questions, which she answered with rapidly increasing alarm-explaining the cause of her absence from the house ;-" And Madeline," cried he, "where is the child?" Reply was made to this question, when a sickly spasm shook the frame of Salicetti as he ejaculated, ،، Eternal horror, I have murdered my child!" In another moment he had driven the dagger into his own heart. His hapless wife was spared this sight, for, overwhelmed with the electric rush of misfortune, she had sunk, cold and unconscious as the marble floor on which she fell.

Well had it been for her, had she never awoke from that icy trance.

E. L. J.

MISCELLANIES.

SENSIBILITY.

LORD Buchan, who, with many amiable virtues, possessed a full equivalent of amiable weaknesses, conceiving Scott to be dying (at a former period of his life), waited upon Mrs. Scott, and begged her to intercede with her illustrious husband to allow himself to be buried in Dryburgh Abbey. "The place," says his lordship, "is very beautiful-just such a place as the poet loves; and as he has a fine taste that way, he is sure of being gratified with my offer." Scott smiled when told of the circumstance, and promised Lord Buchan the refusal, since he was so solicitous. His lordship, however, took up his last lodging in the abbey long before his illustrious neighbour,

LORD NORTH.

WALKING one day into the china shop of Fog and Son, Lord North said to one of the partners, "This strange coalition of yours, sir, will soon be at an end; one of the principals must shortly obtain an ascendancy, for fog will either eclipse sun, or sun chase fog; so that, you see, the partnership cannot last." Two brothers having realized handsome fortunes by their commercial transactions with government, Lord North nicknamed one of them a rogue in spirit, in allusion to his rum contract, and the other a rogue in grain, some of his dealings in corn having elevated him to the pillory. To a friend who had asked him what could be his brother's motive for marrying Miss Bannister, he replied, "Why, to confess the truth, I can say but little for either her beauty or her fortune; but, with regard to family, it is different, for I hear she is nearly related to the stairs." He was frequently upbraided for snoring on the treasury bench, during the discussion of important topics. While Alderman Sawbridge was speaking in favour of annual parliaments, he raised a laugh among the opposition, by calling the attention of the house to the noble premier, who was drowsily nodding in his place. Lord North, however, protested that he was not asleep while the alderman spoke; "but," added he, "I wish to heaven I had been !"

CURIOUS CALCULATION.

THERE is but little encouragement for authors in the following statement, lately made by some ingenious and pains

taking Frenchman. We do not vouch for its accuracy, not being advised of the data upon which it is founded, but if it be true, it ought to furnish a panacea for the cacoethes scribendi. The work from which we translate, says, that in Great Britain one thousand books are published per annum; on six hundred of which there is a commercial loss, on two hundred no gain, on one hundred a trifling gain, and only on one hundred any considerable profit. Seven hundred are forgotten within the year, another hundred in two years, and one hundred and fifty of the remainder in three years; that only fifty survive seven years, and of these scarcely ten are thought of, or known, after the lapse of even twenty years.

That of the fifty thousand books published in the seventeenth century, not fifty are now in circulation; and of the eighty thousand published in the eighteenth century, not more than three hundred are considered worth re-printing for a second edition, and not more than five hundred are sought after now. Since the first writings, fourteen hundred years before Christ, that is, in thirty-two centuries, only about five hundred

works of writers of all nations have sustained themselves against the devouring influence of time. Pleasant tidings, these, for such as have hopes of fame in the ranks of authorship!

FRENCH PISTOLS.

GENERAL Gardanne, the French ambassador, on his introduction to Mohammed Aly Meerza, had presented him with a very fine pair of rifle-barrelled pistols, made at Paris, the barrels of which, the general assured the prince, were worked with such nicety, that a ball delivered from them would fly to the distance of twenty yards, so true as to strike invariably the centre of a piastre, a piece about the size of our half-dollar. The prince had received the general in a room which opened to a large walled court, and from the spot where his highness was seated to the wall was pretty much the distance for which the general had vaunted the precision of his pistols. As soon as he was dismissed, the prince, turning to his secretary, who was standing by him, said, " come, let's try the Frenchman's pistols; go and hold out your hand against the wall." The astonished and trembling secretary, after some remonstrance, found himself obliged to obey, and stand the shot. The prince fired, and fortunately missed the mark.