VII. 'Twas of youth's fairy follies, by which no shade is cast, One of its airy vanities, and like them it hath past. Then a fair good-night to thee, love, a fair good-night the while, I have no parting sigh to give, so take my parting smile! L. E. L. CATHEDRAL SERVICE. Written after attending St. George's Chapel, Windsor. O MELODY divine! (for not of earth Art thou, nor wilt with aught of earth divide The full dominion of the soul) thy birth Was from the song that welcomed like a bride Dissolve in rapture, and the soul take flight H. THE PRIVATE GOVERNESS. THERE have been miseries enough composed, printed, and published, to deluge the world in tears, if it were only tolerably compassionate. People have written of the miseries of bachelors, and the miseries of maidens,—of the miseries of matrimony, and the miseries of celibacy, -of the miseries of eaters of bad dinners, and the miseries of eaters of no dinners at all;-in short, more miseries than Pandora's box ever threatened, have strengthened the general conspiracy for making the age moral, mental, and melancholy. Almost every profession and every event has enjoyed the honours of elegy, and been invested with appropriate symbols of mourning, by literary undertakers. Amid the general sympathy of sighing which characterises this ninteenth century-when prose acts echo to poetry, and men are dolorous as well in prose as in rhyme,-when all the world seems to look at life through black spectacles or a crape veil,—it would be strange indeed, if no amateur of wretchedness had luxuriated over the woes of private governess-ship. No one likes to be the object of pity, but the hypochondriac and the beggar. I have constantly observed people extenuating the very distresses they have described, on the first expression of pity that escaped their auditors. Perhaps this may be attributed to pride, or more charitably to that dignity of feeling which we call self-respect. Without stopping to analyse its origin, however, we may be satisfied with the fact, that no such objection withholds any sufferer from hoping to excite sympathy in his sorrows, as soon as they once get into print. I myself have been one of the persecuted of this world. It boots not to recount the disasters and calamities which precipitated me into the midst of those who must struggle for the very means of existence, and pay with their whole life for the power of sustaining that life. There are a thousand calamities of daily occurrence, which drive the cherished object of domestic love from the shelter of the family hearth, to encounter the jostle of the crowd, and endure the collision of mean minds and despicable hearts. I was bent, as others have been, on securing-oh, the misnomer!—what is called, a genteel independence.Independence!—the independence of that anomalous personage in every family-THE GOVERNESS! After great expense of advertisements,-after calling upon friends to solicit patronage, until I was ashamed of crossing their thresholds,-after much of the heart-sickening delay which threatens utter hopelessness,—after many and various endeavours to make one shilling produce the value of two,-after changing my apartments again and again for improvement-not of comfort, but economy,-after this prefatory catalogue of miseries-this noviciate of suffering, I received the two following notes by the twopenny post: "Miss Marden is requested to call on Mrs. Walter Berners, No. St. James's Place, to-morrow morn ing, at eleven o'clock precisely." "Mrs. E. Somerfield having heard from Mrs A., that Miss Marden is a person likely to suit her as governess to her children, will be glad to see Miss M., at eleven o'clock precisely, to-morrow. "No. Russell Square." As I received the first of these notes three hours before the other, I had a feeling that it should be the first attended to; and calculating, in the case of success or disappointment, on a short detention, I decided that I should certainly be able to keep both appointments, without considerably transgressing in either. Oh, that visit the first, the preparation visit—the submitting to inspection,-dressed up scrupulously for the occasion,-un-befurbelowed, and un-flounced, and unbowed, and primly curled in most decent curtailment of every ringlet, every ornamental excrescence carefully lopped away,—all externals most accurately arranged, as if an elegant binding were a fair sample of the contents of the volume ;-an elaboration of absence of pretension; -an animated juvenile library! Every moment of my progress from my own apartments to the place of meeting was a new crisis of feeling and of fear. But these creations of my mind faded before the stubborn matter-offact circumstances that thickened as I approached more nearly the scene of my expected trial. Then came the descent from the coach at the corner of the street, to escape the footman's grin at a hack,-for the insolence of all powdered menials has long been a dogma of my faith ;-anon followed the equivocal knock at the door,— semi-genteel, illustrating very appropriately the undefined position of the unfortunate who awakens its music,— humble in tone, as touched by one about to ask a favour ; but prolonged in sound, as betokening the consciousness of offering an equivalent for value received.' Next there was the presentation of the card,—the agitating ascent up the echoing stairs, and the announcement of the name, that climax of horror to a nervous person.-To be sure, a governess has no business with nerves; but it was my misfortune to possess them in an acute degree, and to feel all their evil at this momentous period. At all times the sonorous enunciation of my patronymic is awful; -but now-it was like the cry of charge!' to a coward, or a verdict for the plaintiff in the ears of the defendant. I felt a certain dryness of the palate, and a quick palpitation at my heart, which compelled me to remain a few moments on the staircase. There was, indeed, a thought flashing through my mind, of intellectual and moral equality with the person into whose presence I |