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rendered luggage after luggage as it was distinctly called for. After thus slowly securing his own luggage, therefore, (which he had the good sense to do) we could hear our friend, as we sat comfortably seated in our new vehicle, at every lull of the tempest of wind and tongues, enquiring, does Mr. Wordsworth go to Liverpool? At last, after several " don't knows," "don't know indeed," and "know nothing about it," interspersed with the tossing of portmanteaus, and pattering of wind and rain, the old driver, during the ceremony of receiving his shilling, had the humanity to suggest examining the way bill. That was first in the hands of the clerk, and then by magic transferred to the new driver, who was busy comparing his passengers; and so engrossed with this, that while our friend stood at his elbow pursuing his enquiries, the former observing his seat vacant proposed to fill it up! Our friend at this intimation saw the necessity of at once taking his seat; and it was only by breaking his shins on the redoubted portfolio, and thundering with his head, and especially his spectacles, against the gentleman in the opposite side of the coach, to the eminent danger of the eyes of both, that he was satisfied that Mr. W. or at least his luggage, did go to Liverpool.

"It is very odd!" ejaculated he again; "very odd indeed;" but at last he corrected himself and said, it is not odd; it is exactly what always happened to me. I am sure I shall not see this gentleman let me make what efforts I please. I'll bet you any money I shan't. It is a matter of course as I shall shew you! You have all heard

of Sir Walter Scott? Scott of Waverley? of course. Well! I wanted to see him exceedingly; waited three days at the inn of Selkirk for no other purpose; and at last I found that he had returned home. I dressed myself as well as I could, and hastened down to Abbotsford as soon as I conceived it likely he would be stirring; but taking care to ask no questions upon the subject; as I was aware so many fools infested him about that time. I cannot tell you with what feelings I saw the towers of Abbotsford rising before me! I entered the park gate, terrified that after all I might be deemed an intruder-and really pre

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pared with no proper excuse-but it proved unnecessary. As I entered, an elderly person, dressed in a green short coat and a black velvet bonnet, covering grey hairs-in short exactly such a person as I conceive a favourite domestic in such an establishment might be-was digging behind the hedge. My good friend!" said I, (for he seemed though simple yet very respectable) "is Sir Walter at home ?" He is" was the answer. "I have waited three days to see him. I should like it beyond any thing, if even at a distance." Well! You may have that satisfaction at last." He'll have been stirring for sometime?" rejoined I. "He has breakfasted, and is just about to set off for Edinburgh," said the other. Upon hearing that, I darted off to anticipate the possibility of his going without my seeing, if not conversing with him; and by that very act lost the opportunity for both! For, upon going to the house, I found he had gone out, to go in a coach expected to pass about that time. I had in fact seen and left him, without suspecting it. The person I had been conversing with, was-Sir Walter Scott! and as I again reached the spot, half breathless, I heard the coach door slammed after receiving him; and the next sound was the grating of its horrible wheels among the gravel, bearing him from me as it proved for ever.

How strange it now appeared to me that I had not discovered, what certainly distinguished the features of that great man-the greatest sagacity mingled with the greatest mildness. But these things will happen.

I had a similar fate even with the Ettrick Shepherd. I was standing one night in the theatre, (for I could find no room to sit) to witness the performance of Miss O'Neill in Belvidera. That fine actress and fine woman was in the moment of deepest grief, when she found that after the most passionate appeals to her husband, and in tones, every one of which was equal to a critique on the text of the poet, she could not alter the unfortunate man's resolutions, and that even her arms, a woman's last and most powerful argument, could not detain him; and she had just relinquished him, and all the magic of the most ex

quisite form and mien were in operation depicting the deepest grief, when a plain looking man, thick set, and of middle stature, in what the Scotch emphatically call a stub-head, and I am not sure if he had not even a brown cow-lick, turned round, apparently to wipe his face, but in fact to relieve his feelings-"what do you think of that?" said I. "It is intolerable," said he. That made me move my spectacles, and say I thought on the contrary-it was pretty good. "I mean," said the other correcting himself, "it is too good for me-too strong" and he was right. I turned to the business before me and thought no more of my plain friend; and he soon after left the spot. I then-exactly then, and not till then-learned it was Hogg! I would have given much to see and converse with this man; next to Walter Scott, he was then famous; and here I had seen and conversed with him, without knowing it; and the moment I did know it, had lost him and could not rejoin him; for in endeavouring to follow and overtake him, I only got squeezed and lost my place.”

We affected to pity him, but I pity him if he was deceived. We had long set him down as a hard bargain of the king's; a creature who could not make two pence on his own account; but who might support the arduous duty of doing nothing in a public office; (and this was indeed his station); but we were now convinced he wished to tie himself to the tail of some great man, as boys tie turf to kites; and we could not help determining to disappoint him on this occasion if we could. At last Ormskirk appeared, but no change of horses was there; they were changed some miles farther on, and to our joy it rained unmercifully! His last hope was in Liverpool-and there at last we were. veral persons went off at different parts, but we held fast by the portfolio, and no claimant for it appeared. We reached the inn. "Now!" said our hero, and bounced up-but our portly friend also gradually ascended, and with steady energy shut up the door, while already two were in possession of the other. "He'll be gone!" he ejaculated; "I bet a pound with any man he is gone now! At last both

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doors got emptied almost at the same instant, but he could not look at both. By the time he had determined from which he should issue, picked his travelling cap from the puddle, into which in his hurry he had allowed it to fall, and secured his portmanteau, which he saw dragged to one conveyance, while his night-bag was dragged to another; and he wanted neither, the coach was nearly deserted; and some one cried "Mr. Wordsworth's bag." Give it to me," exclaimed Barnacle, (seizing a bag which he saw in a person's hands.) "I am carrying that bag, Sir," said the other. "I'll give you six pence if you'll allow me," said our friend; and again he began fumbling with his illfated purse. Meantime he saw a bag handed in at the door of a dark coloured coach, standing in the middle of the street. "If that should be Mr. Wordsworth's coach!" exclaimed he. "It is," said the guard; "give this gentleman his night-bag," and that instant the dark coloured coach drove off. "I knew it," said the little fellow, and darted after it; but in one moment was sprawling in the mud. He had forgotten to consult his cloak, and that his portmanteau stood at his feet, and they had tripped him. As soon as he could get up he threw his cloak open most picturesquely, and darted off in the direction which he saw the dark coach had taken, but it was already invisible. He saw it glanced upon by the lamps in passing; he heard its rumbling, and could follow it for a time, but a fresher rumble came in an opposite direction, and for a moment deafened him; and though he still rushed on, it was with an uncertain aim. At last he saw several coaches, some dark, and going in different directions; and at the first turn the object of pursuit was lost.

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Those who have seen a dear child borne off in such circumstances; or a sweet-heart, young, amiable, and distractedly fond of one, or rich and not reluctant, which is the same; blackleg cheated of his booty; or any bird or beast of an expected prey.Well! I never saw any of thesebut those who have seen and remember it, can fancy the grief of our friend. He returned, equally dirty and dispirited, but satisfied that a fatality only had been accomplished; and as he

stamped on the pavement, (not in passion, but to knock off some part of the mud,) and projected his hands from his coat sleeves, to avoid the horror of making them as dirty within as without, he cried: "That gentleman is invisible! positively invisible! He has been ninety miles in my company-I have made as many efforts to see him, and I have never seen so much as the skirt of his coat. He is positively invisible, and I submit.

Upon questioning him, we found he was keeping a journal of his life, of which the meeting of to-day ought to have formed a most important chapter. "Never mind him," muttered my friend, and dragged me away. It is not from reverence to the individuals these fellows write; on the contrary, they are as likely to depreciate as to praise, or justly estimate. They think only of themselves and their infernal book! I once met one of those mad journalmakers. He was going to see Melrose Abbey. We conversed of it, and exchanged cards, and went to see it in company. While I admitted its beauty, which he had set down as unmatchable,

there was no flattery, however fulsome, that he did not heap upon me; but the moment I said Elgin exceeded it, he swore that it was a mere Scotch criticism; and that shew a Scotchman any thing, however fine, and he is sure to have seen something finer! "And if he has seen something finer," said I, "is he not to speak the truth?" "Nothing could be finer," said he. And had a mad steer not bounced between us, which drove us from the church yard, in different directions, on that instant we must have fought! and even as he dropt from the church yard wall, half pursued by the steer, he shook his fist, and looked towards the building, as if to say-it is a cursed Scotch criticism, and you know it! They are as ferocious as poachers.

By this time we had reached our inn, and had to give directions for supper and beds. New faces also greeted us, and the newspapers had just come in. We, therefore, soon forgot our day's adventures for the present; but were often tickled afterwards with the thought of "The Invisible Gentleman."

B.

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AXEL;

A TALE OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.

In the knightly hall of her father's castle, stood fair Agatha of Starschedel, before the pedigree of the family, which filled the entire space between two pillars. She violently pressed her small hand against her high-heaving bosom, as if she could have prevented the beating of her anxious heart, and her dark-blue eyes glanced from the escutcheons through the high-arched windows on the course below, where Axel, the groom, with the grace and strength of the divine Castor of old, was breaking in a young and fiery horse.

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Well, there is nothing like a good rider," broke out her waiting-maid, Kunigonda, who was leaning against the window. "Only look, my lady, how the animal rears, while the man sits on it like a doll."

"That is a silly likeness, if intended to be flattering," said Agatha; and blushing at the idea of having betrayed herself, she stepped to the window.

"Don't torment yourself Axel," called the lord of the castle from his window ; "you may chance to break your neck as well as that of Hippolyte. He won't leap, the riding master has already given him up."

"All depends on the rider,” replied Axel's full deep voice. "He must leap for me, even if Tilly and Wallenstein were in him!" and, despite the resistance of the snorting animal, he galloped towards the end of the course, to give him a fair run at the leapingpole.

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"The deuce is in the fellow!" said the Baron, with a smile of approbation. Oh, Lord, there's a pretty accident," screeched Kunigonda, and Agatha repressed an anxious sigh.

With terrible side-leaps the stallion was plunging towards the pole, when the little daughter of the gardener ran over the course, and, frightened at the approach of the animal, fell close before its hoofs. The terrified spectators were unable to call out in time, but Axel

perceived the child at the fatal moment when the horse's shoes seemed already suspended over her head, and thinking only of her danger, he pulled back the leaping horse with such violence, that the animal, thrown on its haunches, reared furiously, and appeared likely to lose its balance.

"He'll fall back!" cried Baron Starschedel.

"I can't look at it," cried the sentimental Kunigonda, covering her eyes with her hands, and peeping through her fingers; while, whiter than her veil, Miss Agatha leant against the windowpillar; but, in the mean time, Axel had dealt the horse a powerful blow between the ears with his fist, and it dropped on its forelegs once trembling and subdued. Axel jumped down-gently lifted the crying child from the ground-and with caresses carried her to her mother, who was hastening in alarm to the spot.

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"That was a brave act," cried his lordship," but the experiment might have cost you your life."

"Better Hippolyte and I than the innocent child," said Axel, mounting again; and the horse, now recognising his master, willingly and smartly took a standing leap over the high pole.

"You have done your business well," cried the old gentleman from the window; "come up stairs, you shall have a bottle of wine."

"I must ride the horse cool first," replied Axel. abruptly, and set off, accordingly, at a gentle trot.

"That fellow is not to be paid with gold," muttered Starschedel," but he speaks in a tone that sometimes makes me doubt which of us is the master and which the groom."

Affected by the scene she had witnessed, Agatha was leaving the hall: her way led her again past the pedigree. With a deep blush she looked at it, and an escutcheon, blackened over, met her view. It was that of a second cousin, whom Agatha's father

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