hoped with a fervent hope, that the future would bring them only the accomplishment of their desires, and no obstacle seemed to oppose itself to their union. How much better would it be if human nature learnt ever to cherish a secret consciousness of the instability of earthly hopes, that it might not, with too confident a joy, reckon upon the certain accomplishment of its desires. One morning in the autumn, Pauline and André stood talking as they leaned over the little railings fronting his mother's cottage, and the old people looked complacently on the smile that answered smile upon the faces of their child and future son-in-law. There were no desponding doubts or fears in the bosom of either. Each trusted with simple confidence in the affections of the other, and discoursed only of the happiness which would be theirs when, in a little home of their own, they should labour together and for each other. "Ah, ma Pauline," said André, "I do not see why we should tarry thus, year after year. Would not our labours united make us a happy and comfortable home?" "Hush!" said Pauline, laying her finger upon her lips. "Tais toi-donc. What would become of the old people then-now we work for them, and then we should work only for ourselves! No, let us wait a little while?" "We could work better together, Pauline," pleaded the young man. "I should work more, for I should be at peace; for then I should not fear the conscription, which, while I am unmarried "Oh, don't let us distress ourselves with such fears, mon cher ami; but look yonder, who are those men in such gay colours?" André turned pale; the realization of his hastily uttered fears stood before him. "Pauline! let us go in; they are the officers of the conscription. I may not be called." The little village, which had just been the scene of so much peace, was now in a state of commotion; and it seemed as if all the first-born, the pride and hope of mother and father were to be carried away. Many a little circle that night said their good-night with streaming eyes, who had not shed a tear for many a day. It seemed as if a blight had come upon the whole community. Those that were called the first day wished they had been spared, while the rest looked anxiously forward unto the morrow, hoping and fearing. The hearts of many a village maiden received a severe shock, as they saw their lovers carried away as soldiers. Old Pierre sat in his cottage alone the next morning, waiting with a trembling heart for the event of the day. His mind wandered back far into the past, and conjured up many a bright scene of his youth; and how his own beloved Marie, in years long removed, had trembled lest the chosen of her heart should be carried away in the conscription. And he looked back, and he looked forward to a coming winter, desolate and solitary, if André should be taken away; when alone he must sit and watch the flickering flame; alone listen to the moaning of the wind among the pines on the hill-side; alone hear the beating of hail, rain, and snow against the frail tenement. No merry voice would yield him comfort when long reveries and associations of the past would bring a tear to his eye; he should have no one gently to reproach him when the impatient desire to be at rest should escape his lips. Whenever worldly misfortune awaited him, his mind reverted to a little spot in the cemetery on the hill, where a black cross, hung with immortels, and surrounded with flowers, marked the resting-place of her who had been in reality his second self, and had loved him so well, and his hope was then to creep noiselessly to her side, and slumber with her in the silence of the last sleep, until both should wake again at the last. There is something beautiful in the love of two aged heads, who have The throbbed pulse for pulse, true to one another through long years. They have been young, and in their youth the same golden light illumined each breast; and in each with coming years, as experience and wisdom darkens something of the brightness of this world, that golden light has faded gradually, and mellowed into the twilight which should precede the glory of a future state. love that once roused and inspired them, and fired their imagination into eager demonstration of mutual affection, now teaches them to know that in the other heart, which has so long been a receptacle for all their joys, its smiles, its tears, its confidences, hopes and fears, there is a spirit watching, loving, praying for them still; that an undying hope for that eternal peace hereafter reigns within; that let the shocks and earthquakes of the world come and shatter all outward supports, there is still a haven of rest and love in the bosom of the wife or husband. The hoping, yearning desire to pass hand-in-hand through the portals of death, from the world where so strongly they have been linked together, to another world, is a feeling of tenderness which the aged often experience. As Pierre sat revolving these thoughts in his mind, a light hand was laid on his shoulder, and turning he beheld Pauline, pale and trembling, who inquired "Monsieur Pierre, where is André? I have sought him through the village and I cannot find him." "I know not," said Pierre, his aged voice trembling with emotion; perhaps he has been called"I fear it," said Pauline;" something kept me awake last night; something told me there was sorrow for to-day; and it is come, father-it is come "If André goes, I am alone for ever," said Pierre. "I will take care of you, if God takes him from us; but there is hope-still hope; " and Pauline clasped her hands downwards, and the stream of golden hair floated down, as she stood a moment or two lost in thought. The latch of the door was lifted, and admitted André, whose face was pale, and his lips firmly set. He faintly smiled on Pauline, and silently took her hand. "Help me to console him," he whispered, "I am called, and I have but one day more to remain with him. To you, Pauline, I say nothing. The love wherewith you love me will nerve and support you. Pauline, my ownspeak to me-comfort me!" For a moment the girl's face was agitated by some inward emotion, the lip trembled, and large tears struggled from beneath her eye-lashes, and rolled silently over cheeks which had scarcely before known a tear. No start or shriek expressed her emotion. It was too deep, and the tumultuous feeling struggling in her breast spoke only in the sudden flush appearing in her cheek and mounting to her brow. "I will come to you again, André. Tell him when I am gone! Is there no hope-cannot you find a substitute?" "If I were rich I might, Pauline; but I have no power now. It is only money could induce another to take willingly the post I fill.” André turned round to his grandfather, and told him what had happened. The old man had quietly surveyed them while they conversed, and suspected the truth, though he feared its confirmation. The scene of the parting with all he loved the next day was one of wild sorrow, which, for a time, seemed to prostrate the energies even of André ; but Pauline spoke even to the last of comfort and hope, which were unintelligible words to Pierre and André, at that last moment when he was quitting the village, perhaps for ever. For, how many in these days of warfare ever returned to their native homes? Pauline that morning, after bidding farewell to André, slipped away from her home, and did not return till evening, when she only kindly spoke to her mother through the window, that she should soon return. The evening was deepening rapidly into night, when the young girl quitted the village, and turned her steps towards the slope of the hill. Soon she reached the entrance to the wood, where tall, dark pines threw long shadows over the ground, and hid creeping brutes in the fading light, seemed like stooping figures ready to start at each moment upon her. The new moon, with its silver crescent, partially illumined the scene, and made bright silvery patches on the ground. The way was steep, and led, at every moment, into thicker wood. An ordinary girl would have been appalled at the voiceless stillness of the shades, undisturbed, save by the scream of some bird, or the babbling of a tiny streamlet as it tossed down diminutive cascades, and then rippled over a pebbly bed. As darkness increased, the silence of the spot seemed to become deeper, and the solitude more alarming. But Pauline had something in her heart which forbade all thought of self. A spirit led her on, which scorned the danger of her lonely pilgrimage. The name, the love of André surrounded her as with a shield, and was a talisman against all evil spirits and fear. At length a bright light shone out amidst the trees, and Pauline knew that her journey was nearly ended. A small hut speedily came in view, and voices, loudly singing, roused the echoes of the woods. are in." wood cutter, and here we are. See what a position we "The children too. There are so many of them," suggested Pauline. "Pauvres enfans-this will be a hard winter for them." "Would you assist them if you could Guillaume?" "Ah, would I not. I would do anything to assist my father." "A soldier's life," said Pauline, "is full of activity; there is bustle and novelty," she continued, while her heart smote her, when she reflected how coldly she was urging the cause of that which had been to her the greatest sorrow. "The soldier has no home, Pauline, I care not much for it." "And would you not go as a soldier even to preserve much comfort for your mother?" "How would it-my pay would be but a mere "Look here Guillaume," said Pauline, drawing forth a purse, which seemed full of sparkling silver; "here is a sum would bring comfort to this little home, no fear of starvation would haunt your dreams. Guillaume will you become a substitute if I give you this?" "For whom?" "André is chosen; you know Guillaume he is the only support of his aged grandfather. He has not brothers like you have, to help to keep the hearth warm. If he goes, the home of old Pierre is desolate! If you go Guillaume you will leave behind you the consciousness of comfort—the little ones will have bread, your old father will be able to rest a little-and you will come back, some day, to tell them of the wonders you have seen." "And this money, Pauline! am I taking it from you?" Peeping in through the low casement, a smile of satisfaction crossed the pretty face of the girl as she beheld a group seated round the fire, composed of children, two young men, and an old woman. They were roasting chestnuts in the ashes; some on the floor were watching the operation, while the eldest superintended the cooling of the fruit. The room was very destitute. A pile of logs of wood stood in one corner, near a door, opening into an inner apartment, where, on either side, stood the beds of the whole family. A churn, a table, two or three chairs, a small old-fashioned chest of drawers, on which stood the crucifix, some maps, books, and a wreath of everlasting flowers completed the furniture of the room May the holy virgin bless you, and protect you for in which the family were seated, save that, over the fire-ever-may she guard this little home-may they that place hung the picture of the Virgin, which they re- dwell in it live long and happily," exclaimed Pauline, as garded as the protectress of their dwelling. she raised her streaming eyes, in the moonlight, to Heaven, and poured forth her hymn of thanksgiving and prayer. A low tap at the door made them all start to their feet, and one of the young men rushed to open it, and a smile of kindly greeting crossed his rough, sunburnt face, as he saw the Provence Rose stand without, with a shawl thrown over her head. "Entrez, ma bonne fille," said the old mother, for all knew Pauline. She, however, hesitatingly and nervously refused, saying, that she should come again in a day or two. She only wanted to speak to Guillaume, and she had brought a basket for the children, which she knew they would like, and she asked after the father who had gone, for a day or two, to the other side of the wood on business. The old dame knew what her basket for the children contained, for it was a frequent practice of Pauline to assist the family: there were warm socks for them all, and coffee, and sugar, and little pats of butter, and tobacco, and various little luxuries which they could not otherwise have hoped to obtain by wood cutting, which was their occupation. Guillaume came and stood without the porch. He was a tall, and rather fine young man, being good to his parents, but rather ambitious. Hence he disdained a little the wood-calling, and would have given anything to be delivered from its arduous labour. "My savings are almost untouched. Do not ask how I obtained it. I am honest. I would not steal." "I will go," said Guillaume; "I shall be helping my poor old mother, and I have no love behind me. is not a girl in the village will miss me " There "You must come to night. Your mother will reproach me perhaps in her heart. Will you follow to our cottage when you are ready. I must return. Go and make your adieus." Pauline ran, rather than walked down the mountain path; her heart was light, but, she had still something to undergo. At the door of her own cottage stood her father and mother, watching for her with anxiety and fear. Another form, with folded arms, stood near. She came, and was clasped to her aged parent's breast. "André, you are here?" "But for an hour, my Pauline-where have you been?" "Let us go in," she said, unheeding their questionings. A slight flame danced up from the wooden fire, dimly illumining the room. She stood for a moment irresolute, then, throwing off her shawl, threw herself into her lover's arms. André, you are free!" A start of astonishment paralyzed for a moment the utterance of the tongues of all. Pauline was there, but, no golden hair floated over her shoulder. A little close cap concealed her head, and the pale sweet face peeped forth unshrouded in curls. André could not speak, tears forced themselves from his eyes, as he pressed her to his bosom, and listened to her simple story. Now she had treasure to purchase his freedom. The golden sacrifice was complete, and no reproachful voice was raised against her. In a few months André inhabited the cottage, with a bride whom all the village loved the more for her ELIZA COOK'S JOURNAL. devotion to her affianced. The substitute never regretted A GLANCE AT MALTA. MALTA is one of three islands in the Mediterranean, situate about 60 miles from the Sicilian coast, and about 200 miles from the shores of Africa. These islands lie in a N.W. and a S. E. direction, and are called Malta, Gozo, and Comino. Malta is the principal one, and lies to the S. E.; Gozo is to the N.W.; and Comino is a very small island in the intermediate channel. Malta, which is the subject of our present sketch, is 17 miles in length, 9 in its greatest breadth, and about 60 miles in circumference. tery of four tiers, mounting upwards of 50 heavy guns, Valetta contains several good hotels, and is one of the Militensium amor et Europæ vox Has insulas confirmat. A. D. 1814." Valetta takes its name from the Grand Master La Valette, one of the most illustrious of the order, who founded it in 1566. This order was composed of persons from the different European nations, distributed according to the language, each having a separate palace or auberge. The aspect of the island, as seen at a distance, is not at all striking or picturesque. We had been examining the land, through the ship's glass, all the afternoon, as we approached it in the early part of September. It has the appearance of a long flat rock, with steep and rugged coasts, and seemingly destitute of vegetation. On approaching nearer, the prospect becomes more interesting; clusters of low, flat-roofed houses are visible along the sandy fields; the numerous bays and inlets of the island are commanded by forts, and on the higher ground we have a number of quaint-looking windmills. Presently the prospect improves; white villas are seen These auberges are the most striking ornaments of glittering in the sun along the coast; we descry the towers and domes of Valetta rising above her ramparts, Malta, and remarkable for their magnificence and archiand the lighthouse standing out in clear relief at the ex-tectural beauty. At the present day, many of them are treme point. After weathering this point, we come at occupied as Government offices and military barracks. once in full view of the white city rising up from its mag- The houses in general are three stories high, have flat Lificent harbour. Here we see vessels of all sizes and roofs, and are built of the native limestone. This stone of various nations. At the upper part of the harbour are is nearly white, and so soft, that after it is broken into floating on the smooth convenient sized blocks, they dress it with an axe. "England's wooden walls" waters; the quays are flanked by numerous storehouses Most of the houses have also projecting bay-windows, and magazines. We hear the sound of the anvil, and the which afford the fair inmates, during the heat of the day, an agreeable pastime, in overlooking the street. voices of active porters and boatmen, at their occupations, indeed everything speaks of industry and enterprise, and the visitor is agreably struck with the beauty of the city, the extent of the defences, and the animation of the whole scene. the sea. The anchor dropped-numbers of picturesque boats came alongside, carrying a host of shouting, sunburnt After visiting the fellows, all eager to take one on shore. health-office, we cross a drawbridge, and by a passage tunnelled through the rock, we enter Valetta, travelling along some streets of stairs to reach the upper part of the city. Valetta, the capital of the island, is a handfrom some, airy, well-built city, and is highly picturesque It is built on a peninsula, projecting into an extensive bay, and which it divides into two commodious harbours. The one to the west, called the "Marsa Muschetta," is allotted to vessels riding quarantine, and the other forms the grand harbour, which is one of the mile This harbour is about a finest in the world. and a half in length, and three-quarters in its greatest breadth, and also contains several convenient creeks, where vessels of the largest class may ride with security. As we enter the port, Valetta lies to the right hand, and on the opposite side of the harbour are the suburb-cities of Senglea, Burmola, and Vittoriosa. These are distinct boroughs; and here are situated the arsenal, and principal magazines and stores belonging to the navy; but as they are enclosed by the same wall, and defended by the same fortifications, they may be considered as parts of the same city. Two strong forts, called St. Elmo and Riccasoli, protect the mouth of the harbour, and about midway along it rises fort St. Angelo, a formidable bat Among the public buildings may be named the Cathedral, dedicated to St. John, which contains a beautiful mosaic pavement, and some handsome monuments of the knights. The Governor's palace, formerly that of the Grand Master, has several fine halls, and an armoury, containing some curious trophies and arms of the middle ages; besides a very considerable stand of arms for immediate service. There are also the university, the noble military and naval hospitals, the public and garrison libraries, and a good theatre. The city is surrounded by high fortifications, chiefly formed out of the native rock, and which are upwards of two miles in circumference. There is also a ditch one hundred and twenty feet deep, which runs between the harbours, cutting off all communication with the city. Beyond the counterscarp, towards the country, several additional outworks have been thrown up; these are massively built, and well manned with cannon, rendering the place a most formidable stronghold. Leaving the town, let us take a glance at the aspect of the country-but the sun is so powerful, and the reflection from the white ground so intense, that straw hats and umbrellas are indispensable. The island is little better than a barren rock, but, its natural sterility has in a great measure been removed by the industry of its inhabitants, who have imported large quantities of soil from Sicily. There is little variation in the surface of the country, which is truly African in its climate and character. Under a glorious sky, and a clear and unbounded atmosphere, the eye travels over the white sandy fields, enclosed by stone fences, forming a series of terraces, and which are necessary to prevent the heavy rains from washing away the sprinkling of soil they possess. The country in general has a very bleak and bare appearance; here and there we see a clump of fig trees, a solitary palm, or a great cactus with its large spiked leaves hanging over the white wall. we pass through the large suburb, called Floriana, which contains extensive barracks, a botanical garden, and the Protestant burial-ground. Malta, from its geographical position and natural character, is an island of singular interest and importance, and exerts no slight influence on the march of civilization. Under the flag of Great Britain its inhabitants have enjoyed all the rights and privileges of British subjects. We feel sensible of being baked as we travel along the white and stony roads, between glaring, hot walls, with nothing but the wayside cottage as a refuge from the fierce glances of the sun. We meet with the aloe and the plantain, the palma christi and scarlet geranium,-political and commercial interest of the colony. A very also a variety of plants familiar to us as tenants of the hot-house. In the fields we see the little plants of buff cotton, rather sickly in appearance, but which forms the staple production of the island. Besides cotton, Malta produces corn, figs, grapes, melons, peaches, and a description of orange called the "mandarin," which is highly prized for its flavour. The climate of the island appears to be subject to periodical changes. Formerly, a considerable quantity of rain fell in the winter season, but it sometimes occurs that little or no rain will fall for two or three years. In the month of September the Sirocco" prevails. This is a damp southerly wind, which deposits a fine dust, and affects both natives and foreigners with considerable lassitude. Malta contains two cities, and numerous "cazals" or villages. It is densely populated, numbering about one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, of whom probably one half are contained within the walls of Valetta and her suburbs. Nearly in the centre of the island stands "Città Vecchia," once the principal city. It contains some handsome palaces, and a fine cathedral, said to occupy the site of the dwelling of the courteous Publius, the Roman governor who entertained St. Paul, after his shipwreck on the island. With St. Luke's graphic narrative before us, and taking into account the numerous traditions of the island, there is little doubt that the bay, called after him, was the scene of the Apostle's shipwreck. Under this impression, we visited the place with some interest. The harbour lies exposed, and has many shoals; but there is a convenient shore for landing. A small chapel stands near the shore, which, they tell you, is the spot where the "barbarians" kindled the fire, and the principal features of the bay answer to the description of the inspired writer. Closing our sketch-book, we entered a fisherman's cottage, close at hand, to get a little refreshment. Bread and cheese, hard-boiled eggs and a jug of Sicilian wine, were set before us, which we enjoyed exceedingly. The salt was like a handful of hailstones, but the good dame kindly ground it for us between the palms of her hands. Hunger is excellent sauce, and a Maltese carriage is an admirable machine for creating an appetite. We may describe it as a chaise, having only the two hind wheels, with a mule supporting the shafts; and as the animal ambles along these stony roads, the saltatory motion it communicates to one's digestive region, should be felt, to be rightly appreciated. The driver runs by the side of the vehicle, occasionally leaping to the shaft with the agility of a monkey, and breaking out into some wild, discordant song. Amongst the interesting objects of Malta are the catacombs a subterranean city of tombs, formed out of the rock, and though but partially open to the visitor, are said to be very extensive. At a little distance from Città Vecchia is "Boschetto," formerly a country residence of the Grand Master. This is a charming valley, indeed the only place in the island where the trees grow to any size. It is laid out in gardens, and refreshed by springs of fine water, and on certain festivals is a delightful retreat for the Maltese. Returning to Valetta, The administration of affairs is vested in the hands of the governor, appointed by the Crown, and who is also assisted by a council of six persons, duly representing the efficient police force is established in the city, and the utmost cleanliness, security, and order is maintained. Several newspapers are published during the week-subject to a slight censorship-but which do not hesitate to give their opinions pretty freely on all subjects, particularly with regard to the state of affairs on the Italian peninsular. From its central situation, and the constant arrival of vessels and steamers from various parts, there is always a good deal of news stirring,-indeed it may be called the general post-office for the Mediterranean. One day we have the Indian Mail,-on another, a ship of war is telegraphed in the offing, and half the city is on the qui vive, and moving along the ramparts to watch the noble vessel make the port. The religion of the island is Roman Catholic, and in many of the streets we see shrines to the Madonna, as in Italy; but, as regards the ringing of bells, the clatter at Malta puts Italian cities completely in the shade. The upper classes speak Italian, and follow in many respects the habits of Italy, but the lower orders have a language of their own, which much resembles the Arabic. They are said to be peaceable and contented, and in their habits and personal features, partake much of the character of the Arab. The "Monte de Pietà "-an admirable institution, in the hands of the Crown, affords them pecuniary assistance on deposit, at a moderate rate of interest, and all the necessaries of life are abundant, and exceedingly cheap. The sea around them teems with fish,-and in the midst of "fantastic summer's heat," the sides of Mount Etna furnish the Cafès with abundance of ice and snow. Corn, wine, and oil are supplied by Sicily, and numbers of their white-sailed "Sparonaros" arrive daily, bringing the fruitful exuberance of that island to the markets of Valetta. Let us walk out to our favourite seat on the ramparts, to find a little air. The sun has gone down some time, but the air is still oppressively hot. With such a spangled canopy above us, the night is not dark. Behind us the sentry walks to and fro, and beneath us reposes the city, with its harbour and numerous ships. Those lights are from the stern windows of the men-of-war floating, like leviathans, on the surface of the wave. Across the harbour we mark the dim outline of the suburbs. How the city is sprinkled with lights, throwing their rocketlike reflections on the water! The distant lightning is playing along the horizon. Hardly a breath of air is abroad, but we hear the voices of some on the water chiming their evening hymn. A few lights are moving across the harbour, and we hear the plash of the oar. But hark! the bugle-ringing its notes around. A tongue of fire leaps out from St. Angelo-bang goes the gun, startling the echoes, and reverberating along the ramparts like a thunder-clap. 'Tis ten o'clock, and we must retire. THE purest of human beings must needs live in the world as it is; and education is dangerously imperfect which does not instruct purity as to what it must openly meet, what it may purely receive, and what it should turn from and repel. ELIZA COOK'S JOURNAL. the heroines were preserved in life, with no nutriment THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A NOVEL-READER. but an occasional glass of water-but scanty diet for 66 IN A LETTER TO HER GODCHILD. those, whose total want of sleep might have been supposed to make a more generous style of living necessary; My dear Godchild,-You have often urged me to tell but I conclude that they must have been blessed with you some adventure of my youth, and I now sit down to wonderful strength of constitution, or that they were the recount to you one, in which I felt my life to be in most first to benefit by the hydropathic system, it may have imminent danger. In my early days, legendary lore was been unconsciously; the accounts given of the manner in now-there were few which it was tested in their case may have suggested the held in higher reverence than it I spots unhallowed by some associations dear to the lover idea of introducing it into medical practice. Strange of romance-the fairy ring was then the scene of mid-suspicions often lurked in my mind, Schedonis and Monnight revelry-pale spectres took their nightly rounds tonis I fancied were among some of our visitors. through lone churchyards, and the unwary traveller was detected a peculiar scowl (well known to the noveloften lured from his path; by "midnight hag," and reader) which could only belong to the thorough-going goblin grim;" but a great change has come-the villain; if a widower chanced to have this distinguishing ush-sh-sh ush-sh-sh of the ponderous locomotive is heard mark, fancy supplied a touching picture of the victim of in every sequestered nook, to announce its approach, cruelty or inconstancy, reported to the world as dead, as it rushes along at a speed that falls little short of the but wasting her youth and beauty in some remote tower, supernatural-the tiny elves have hid their diminished whose massive bolts and rusty locks were in charge of a heads-the gentle shadows who love silence and solitude surly keeper, who was ready to do his master's bidding Witches have dismounted from at a moment's notice, even to the imbruing his hands in avoid the din and dash. the broomstick which once bore them through the air, the blood of his innocent prisoner. as they can pursue their way with as much expedition In my early and a great deal more comfort per railroad. days I listened with delight to such traditions as were connected with the country where I lived, but not to the "Red exclusion of such well authenticated tales as Riding Hood," and the "Man with the Silver Nose and Gold Mouth," and others equally interesting and instructive; the way in which I enjoyed such narratives would appear quite inexplicable to our juvenile geologists and chemists. By the time I had reached my teens, I enlarged my studies more suitably to my time of life, and the expansion of my mind. My mother was a confirmed novel reader, so that I never was without books of the A circulating library description which I liked best. furnished me with Mrs. Radcliffe's romances as they came out, and with many others which were the fashion of the day; to describe the hold which they took of my imagination would not be easy; they indeed wrought so successfully with me, that I turned all the common occurrences of life into romance, and it was only when they were fully developed that I condescended to see them in their true vulgar light; the every-day business of life was in my estimation of too little importance to deserve a thought, in fact, the world of fiction had become my real world. I believe I was naturally of a very timid disposition-for I often worked myself up to a degree of nervous terror, of which only those, who have experienced something of the same kind, can form a conception. I had great aspirings about modelling myself after the fashion of the heroines I so much admired. The shame of falling short of the undaunted boldness with which they rushed into dangers, ghostly and bodily, made me take myself to task, after some fright which had made my blood run cold and my limbs shake under I think I was but a little past seventeen, when I me, but when I remembered that though these exemplary young women courted perils of every description, they were in the constant habit of fainting away, (and received a pressing invitation from my Aunt, (who had indeed often lay in a state of insensibility for hours,) it married an Irish gentleman,) to pay her a visit at the restored my self-respect; my feelings may appear incon- Castle of Glenmalour, in Ireland; my heart jumped at sistent to you, but to the romance readers of my own the thought of its imposing mountains and dark lakes, day, they would appear to be in wonderful accordance and chances of Irish rapparees, and wild smugglers at with those of the heroic girls of whom we read-a least, if nothing better were to be met with; and I antipassion for encountering dangers, and an overwhelming cipated hair-breadth 'scapes, and delicious towers in the terror when involved in them. If, as it has been said, remote region. With the approbation of my father and terror is a sublime sensation, then was I in a sublime mother, I accepted the invitation. I was given in care to. I dearly loved a a lady going to Ireland-my uncle was to meet me in mood for most part of my time. mystery; I delighted in ghosts; I liked to dream strange Dublin, to escort me down to the country; it was the dreams; I had a particular fancy for banditti, and a first time I had ever seen him-he had coal-black hair, a leaning towards the accomplished villain, so essential to hooked nose, and dark eyes; he was not unlike the The startling adventures re- mortal foe of the heroine of whom I had been last all well-arranged tales. I had read of rapacious uncles, eager to possess corded by Mrs. Radcliffe appeared as every-day events, reading. Would it be quite safe to trust myself with such all that puzzled me at the time was, to make out how a mau? Notwithstanding the quiet which prevailed in our neighbourhood, I seldom went out without expecting to encounter a horde of banditti, armed cap-a-pie, bent upon confining me and my companions in some stronghold, unless indeed a youth, richly caparisoned, should emerge from a neighbouring wood, or sweep down from an adjacent hill, on a snow-white steed, and put the desperadoes to flight, and all of us under an obligation that could only be requited by the bestowal of a heart on the noble-looking champion. The country about us furnished none of that grand, savage scenery absolutely necessary to the comfort of a heroine; there were no inaccessible mountains, no impenetrable forests, no disastrouslooking lakes, no fatal ravines, in fact nothing for which I longed; gentle slopes and lawns, and pleasant groves there were, and grounds tastefully laid out, and modern dwelling houses- but, oh! what would I not have given for some half-dilapidated castle-how I should have loved to wander in its damp-stained apartments, and along its solitary galleries, with no other light but what a dim lamp could afford; and to find, perchance, in its archives some half-worm-eaten narrative of a bloody deed which had been perpetrated within its gloomy walls, and then, having carefully perused it, to have lain me down to sleep beneath the black pall which covered the bed, and which had probably not been made for considerably more than a hundred years; stretched here to have seen, by the flickering light of my lamp, the bats flitting about me, and to have heard ever and anon the ominous cry of the In the distance screech-owl, serenading me from the ivy which mantled about the unglazed casement; but I could not indulge the hope of ever passing such a night. were no châteaux, no monasteries, in very truth, though it had been called the garden of England, it was to me utterly uninteresting. |