There are moods of mind in which it is as impossible to control the current of waking thought as to direct the progress of a dream; eyes, although widely opened, at times see visions over which the intellect has no power, and which are totally independent of the will; vivid and yet vague; confused and yet intelligible; opening up a vista by turns fantastic and tangible, which shake the soul as with a prophetic warning, linking the known with the unknown, the positive with the improbable, so intimately, yet so mysteriously, that it would almost seem as though, during that spirittrance, the veil of futurity were drawn aside, and the finite assumed for a brief instant the attributes of the Infinite; grasping at once the past, the present, and the future. Such paroxysms cannot, however, endure long-the moral tension is too violent; and accordingly Mr. Lyle soon awoke to a perception of outward things, which aroused him at once from his reverie. "Human nature is a strange anomaly, my good friend," he said gravely;" my resolution is formed, my purpose decided; and yet you see my weakness. All that you have told me is so unpromising, so barren, that in spite of myself I feel discouraged.” “And yet, my dear sir, the canvass is a wide one." "It is so; but it seems to me to be blurred over by the coarse brush of a scene-painter rather than touched by the finished pencil of an artist. I find no resting-place for my speculations among dowried old maids, well-to-do merchants, modish governesses, and snug government clerks. I scarcely know what I had dreamed, but certain it is that the dream has not been realised." "Are you not somewhat premature?" 66 Well, it may be so; at all events we cannot control facts. But one word more of Mr. Octavius Lyle. How does he contrive to live at all, if, as you state, everything like success is continually slipping through his fingers?" 66 Indeed, I scarcely know. Occasionally, I am told, some lucky chance presents itself, by which he is a sufficiently good tactitian to profit; but, by all accounts, had he inherited the wealth of Croesus, he would not long have remained rich; for, like all who have little to give, he gives it freely where he believes that it is needed." "Indeed!" and falsehood, each find their place, and contaminate the atmosphere about them. MAN is pre-eminent; and you may read him in his works." "And the inference is-" said Brunton with a smile "The inference is, my good friend, that, as you observed some minutes ago, I must judge leniently of all the ladies and gentlemen whose acquaintance I am about to make." "And who knows," pursued the worthy lawyer, rubbing his hands cheerfully; "after a careful and unprejudiced examination of their several qualifications, which will win the prize." "I can at least tell you which will not, even before I set eyes on any of them: neither the old maiden annuitant, nor the office-clerkunless, indeed, the Government should become bankrupt, in which case I should probably be insolvent myself." "Our candidates are then reduced to Mr. Percival Lyle-" "Aye, the gentleman who drives two carriages, and lives in Bedford-square. West Indian merchants occasionally break." "Mrs. Stainton-" "The pompous principal of a fashionable establishment, at which young ladies are taught to be helpless gracefully, unfitted for wives and mothers, and initiated into the mysteries of running milliners bills. Pupils fail, however, sometimes." "The two sons of Mrs. Stainton-" "Doubtful. Thanks to the eternal railways, which are rapidly making one huge gridiron of the whole civilized world, the civil engineer, with common industry, must be able to render himself independent of other men's money; while the West-end parson has only to curl his hair carefully, and to wear clean gloves, in order to secure an heiress, or to become tutor to some lordling, whose father will eventually reward his exertions with a bishopric. I consider him to be amply provided for." "And lastly, Mr. Octavius Lyle-" "Just so; the well-born vagabond, who borrows money to give away, and considers himself honest! Well, my good sir, here are the personages of our little drama, and we have now only to place them upon the scene. The crusty old uncle, with his toil-won thousands, and the long-tried friend to whom he looks for sympathy and support, are already upon the stage, and "And borrows, I am compelled to add, quite the curtain is about to draw up.' as recklessly." "Ha!" "You must, however, judge leniently of him, Mr. Lyle; for if, as I fear, he is imprudent as well as unfortunate, we are bound to remember that he is young, and that London is a dangerous arena for struggling talent." "Yes,” replied his companion reflectively; "large cities are, after all, nothing more than sumptuous prisons, containing cells enough to accommodate every vice, and never untenanted. Vanity, ambition, selfishness, coquetry, avarice, وو "It will, however, be a serious performance." "Who knows? I rather anticipate a comedy; but what I apprehend is the risk of being cheated at last, and becoming myself the fool of the play. I have more than once remarked that there occurs in the life of every man some moment by which his whole future destiny is influenced; and that this moment, despite its importance, is almost invariably one which has never entered into his calculations, and for which he is consequently altogether unprepared. Chance is its presiding deity: the mind, bewil dered and unstrung by an accident utterly unforeseen, abandons itself involuntarily to the guidance of this blind hazard; and even while the victim or the dupe (for either name will fit him) believes that his freedom of will and of action is still intact, he is merely the puppet of circumstance, and the slave of events by which he suffers himself to become entangled beyond extrication or escape." "We will trust, my good sir, that no such moment will deprive you of your power of volition. At all events, you have both time and opportunity before you; for, according to your instructions, I have acquainted your relatives with your expected arrival in England, and they are all prepared to wait upon you whenever they receive your permission to do so." "May I ask if their replies to the intelligence were verbal or in writing?" "All, without exception, in writing. Would you like to see the letters? I have them about me." "You could not afford me a greater pleasure. I am anxious to judge as much as possible beforehand of the several individuals with whom I am so soon to be brought into contact.' "We will take them, then, if you please, in the order in which I have already made them known to you. Here"--and as Mr. Brunton spoke, he drew a huge sheet of letter-paper, sealed with a wafer, from a packet carefully tied together with red tape-" here is the epistle of Miss Penelope Lyle." The Anglo-Mexican, having adjusted his spectacles, proceeded to read the letter, which ran thus: "Miss Penelope Lyle presents her obliged compliments to Mr. Brunton, and thanks him for his polite communication. Miss Penelope Lyle is happy to learn the approaching return of her longabsent brother Mr. Reginald Lyle to England, after so protracted an absence. Miss Penelope Lyle presumes that her respected relative being (as Mr. Brunton has very considerately informed Miss P. L.) still unmarried, may require some efficient and competent person to superintend his domestic establishment; and Miss Penelope Lyle accordingly begs to assure Mr. Brunton that she is prepared to sacrifice her own tastes and habits in order to secure the comfort of so near a kinsman-an offer whose perfect disinterestedness cannot for a moment be doubtful, when Mr. Reginald Lyle shall become acquainted with the fact that Miss Penelope Lyle is in independent circumstances, and beyond all suspicion of entertaining mercenary views. Miss Penelope Lyle will lose no time in making such preliminary arrangements as may enable her to obey without delay the early summons of her respected brother." "So," said the man of money, as he laid the letter gently upon the table; "I am, it seems, already provided with a housekeeper. Now for No. 2, if you please. Ha! just so; Mr. Percival Lyle comes next. I presume that he will not offer himself as my house-steward. A good hand for a man of business-a very good hand; quite a relief to the eyes after the spiders' legs of little Pen" : "Sir, I have duly received your favour of the 9th instant, which I hereby acknowledge with thanks. Mrs. Percival Lyle and myself congratulate ourselves upon the anticipated arrival of our highlyrespected uncle, towards whom we are quite prepared to fulfil the duties of affectionate hospitality, which, to a childless individual like himself, cannot fail to prove his best welcome to his native land. The prosperous condition of my affairs enables me to do this with the more readiness, that Mr. Reginald Lyle will have no reason to apprehend, under my roof, any diminution of his accustomed luxuries: while, in the society of my amiable wife and accomplished daughters, I flatter myself that he will find such resources as must tend to secure his perfect happiness, and to make him feel that he is once more in the bosom of his family." 'Good, very good-'in the bosom of his family! precisely where my worthy friend at Lima desired to hear of the advent of the old acquaintance by whom he had been bullied and bored for five-and-twenty years. I am obliged to him, but I fear that the luxuries' of Bedford-square, the amiable wife,' and the ‘accomplished daughters' might prove too much for me. I am a plain man, sir-a very plain man; and much less will satisfy my ambition than so wholesale an intrusion on the prosperous affairs of my flourishing nephew and namesake." "Here is the note of Mr. Lancaster" : stant was duly received, and I have the honour "Mr. Brunton,-Sir, your favour of the 9th inherewith to acknowledge the same. The intelligence which it contained has afforded me much gratification, as I flatter myself that I may have it in my power, from my official position, to be of essential service to my relative, who may with confidence command my good offices. Pray inform him of the same, as well as of my desire to pay my respects to him in person, and to devote to his interests every hour which can be spared from my public duties." 66 Liberal Mr. Lancaster! a modest man who affects to play the patron, and to deal out my cards for me in order the better to conceal his own. Perhaps I may employ him to procure me a peerage." "And here, my good sir, is the reply of Mrs. Stainton." "Faugh! what an infection! It must have been run over by a musk-rat. We were half poisoned by those vermin in Mexico; but I fancied that you were at least free from the nuisance in this country: "Dear Sir," "Ah, women are always sentimental upon paper." "Dear Sir,-It was with inexpressible delight that I perused your charming letter. The tears of rapture which it called forth are not yet dried upon my checks. How extremely interesting! It is really quite dramatic! So many years had elapsed since I had received tidings of the amiable exile, that, as I remarked to my dear boys, Mr. Reginald Lyle appeared actually like a relative dropped from the clouds, or one of those charming Anglo-Indian uncles who form the brightest ornament of a French vaudeville. And when are we likely really to em brace the dear wanderer? His anticipated advent has already diffused unfeigned delight throughout Minerva Lodge; for I was so deeply agitated by your glad tidings, that I was for the whole of yesterday utterly unable to fulfil the important and responsible duties of my establishment; and my sweet pupils were consequently left at liberty to celebrate the joyous event. My talented Eustace and my admirable Frederic join me in sincere acknowledgments of your polite attention: like myself, they are eager to embrace their new-found uncle, who will, I am convinced, gladly welcome to his affections such worthy descendants of his long-alienated family. With renewed expressions of my gratitude and delight, I feel it a privilege to subscribe myself, dear sir, your obliged servant, CLARISSA STAINTON." "And now, if you please, for your last specimen of "The Polite Letter Writer." "It is in a different strain; but you must not quarrel with its abruptness." There was an earnestness in the look of the traveller as he extended his hand, which afforded a better answer than any that he could have framed into words : "Sir, I thank you for your communication, and trust that my uncle will return to his native country with a constitution sufficiently unimpaired to enable him to enjoy the fruits of a long and laborious life in a trying climate. I am, of course, at his orders, should he desire to make my acquaintance; but as I am not in a position to offer him such a welcome as he has a right to expect from the son of his brother, you will much oblige me by not forcing my name upon him, should he, as appears extremely probable, be ignorant of my existence: for, in so far as I can judge, our meeting could answer no good purpose; as I am too poor to do credit to his notice, and too proud to be admitted to it on sufferance." Mr. Lyle breathed a long sigh of relief, and gathering the letters together, thrust them into his coat-pocket. "Thank you, my good sir; thank you;" he said, after a short pause; "these documents appear to me as so many landmarks on the moral road over which I propose to THE SWEDISH BRIDAL WREATH. BY MRS. ABDY. "It is impossible to say. I must know more of him, much more; for I do not desire to foster the views of a vagabond. But we must now part for the night;" added the host, comparing his watch with a French pendule upon the mantelpiece, fancifully surmounted by a figure of Beauty binding the wings of Time with roses. "It will soon strike eleven, and you have, I believe, some distance to go. I would offer you a bed," he pursued with a meaning smile; "but you are aware that I do not possess any superfluous accommodation." The lawyer rose, and after a few brief words of leave-taking, shook hands cordially with his friend, and departed. When he found himself alone, Mr. Lyle resumed his seat, again read through the whole of the letters of which he had so unceremoniously possessed himself; and then remained for a long time with his face buried in his hands, absorbed in thought; nor was it until he had finally encroached on the "small hours," that he rang his bell, ascended to his sleeping-room, and dismissed his new and obsequious attendant. (To be continued.) The youthful bride, when severed from the friends of early days, Retraces oft their looks of love, their words of chcering praise; "The bridal wreath in Sweden consists of roses and Her lot is cast with strangers, who are ready to But now she scans the mysteries concealed behind the scenes, Doing a daily battle with domestic ways and means; Sums up her weekly bills-rebukes the tradesman who imposes, And sighs to think that cypress should be mingled thus with roses! Yet doth this needful discipline the character improve She who is fondly nurtured in a family of love, Perchance, takes light and trivial heed the errors to amend, Viewed with such kindly tenderness by many a partial friend ; But when her new associates seem alive to each defect, Her dormant energies are roused her failings to correct; She feels that an unerring Power her lot in life disposes, And murmurs not that cypress should be sometimes blent with roses. The daughter, safely guarded from the slightest ills of life, Claims not the high vocation of the true and earnest wife Who yields her pleasures and pursuits at Duty's sacred call, Encounters care, and toil, aud pain, and triumphs o'er them all; She, like the "virtuous woman" in the page of holy lore, Looks to her household's ways, and aids the needy and the poor; Her husband on her watchful zeal in perfect trust reposes Nor does she mourn that cypress should be sometimes blent with roses. I would not that the maiden should in ripened years be found Pacing the dreary precincts of the spinster's measured round; But when the vow is on her lip, the ring is on her hand, Let her not dream that wedlock's maze is quite like fairy land; But may she so enjoy the good, so meekly bear the ill, So strive in patient cheerfulness her duties to fulfil, That she may say, when peacefully Life's tranquil evening closes, "Love's cypress only has enhanced the sweetness of its roses!" TO MARY. BY GRACE GREENWOOD. WITH A PICTURE OF THE ANGELS BEARING SAINT CATHERINE TO HEAVEN. They bear her up the midnight skies, Wrapt in her last, most tranquil sleep, Above the wild and barren shore The beetling crag, the dizzy steepOver the torrent's sounding rush, Over the storms that vex the deep. No wail of winds, no surge of waves, May break upon the martyr's restNo mortal dread, no wild alarm, Can stir again her charmed breast, As she journeys towards the peaceful shore, The far, fair city of the blest. Her guide, her guard, her sure support, Thus thou, oh, sainted friend! hast won Wrapt in thy trance of sweetest peace, Its fearful deeps, its storm, its strife :- Our world, night-hung with mortal shades- Thy journey shall have end at last- O'erlooking the celestial lands- A fathomless sea, that hath no shoresWho sows the deep with stars, and pours Through countless worlds His life and light. Yet not the thunders of His power, And not His glory's utmost blaze, Shall break thy sleep at that dread hour, To shake thy soul with wild amaze. But, as a father smiles above His infant in its rosy rest, With yearnings, till the answering love Stirs in the tender, dreaming breast, And, smiling softly out of sleep, The child looks up into his eyes, Yet meets their gaze so fond and deep With nought of wonder or surprise: Thus, on thine eye-lids cold and still, A warmth, a balm, a kiss of light! And wake thee with His smile of love. In flushes warm, and rapturous sighs, Look round on Ileaven, and know thy home. In sincerest gratitude, I would acknowledge my indebtedness to the gentle subject of the above poem for one of the most beautiful and touching lessons ever taught to my heart. Most lovely, and richly endowed for gracing and enjoying life, my friend has been for twelve long years an invalid-yet suffering not alone with patience, but with sublime cheerful Look back, O spirit, through the bygone ages- Fainter and yet more faint the heavenly voicings, And we-the watchers by the lonely altar- And all our prayers and watchings would seem vain. Only at intervals, blest Faith upspringing, Seizes on some great promise, rainbow-bright, And fills our ears with the prophetic ringing Of words replete with hope, and truth, and right. Then in the distance far before us glisten II. These are our higher flights; but footsteps tracing The Hand is gone that kindled man's lost vision, III. And yet, by all the strivings of oppression, By every iron rod so rudely wielded, By all the peoples crushed beneath the sword, By all the innocence from wrong unshielded, By every utterance of the Eternal Word; The time is coming, when the Lord returning Shall fill the measure of all human need; When every earnest wish and high discerning Shall find fruition, and be blest indeed! Nature is waiting; Art and Science waiting; Return, O Christ, the bread of Knowledge bring. In Thee we hope, great Heir of God's creation, Take, take the sceptre, O thou King of Pity, And let our prayers no more ascend in vain. VI. In vain? Even now I seem to hear a falling, THE CHILD AND THE FALLING LEAVES. BY ADA TREVANION. A pale child through a forest strayed, The faded bowers no fragrance lent, The sere leaves fast around him fell; The yellow leaves went rustling by, Fair boy, we go the self-same way!" MULTUM IN PARVO.-Estimating everything at its real value, keeping everything to its proper use, putting everything into its proper place, doing everything at its proper time, and keeping everybody to his proper business, would, perhaps, comprehend all, or nearly all, that can promote comfort, order, and contentment, in our hearts and homes.-Home Truths for Home Peace. |