tire you with his lamentations." She then pretended to read a letter to him, beginning with these words:-"My dear husband, I am in perfect health, as likewise are all your children. Make yourself easy, we shall soon be with you."

The old man appeared to listen with extreme delight, he smiled and stroked his beard; then taking the paper in his hand he pressed it to his bosom. He now related very rationally that he had formerly been a soldier, and had served on board the Revel fleet, at Constadt, and at other places; he added that he was an invalid, that he had just left his wife, and that she was with her children at Revel. The woman told us that he had left them about thirty years ago; the poor man vehemently contradicted her; and then seated himself at the end of the bench. He uttered some words which I could not well hear, and then cried aloud," My dearest, where art thou at this moment? Art thou at Revel, at Riga, or at St. Petersburgh?" These were so applicable to my own situation, that I had scarcely strength enough to rise from my seat and retire to conceal my tears. This good old man, thought I, exhibits a picture of what ere long I may be. Deprived of reason, I may one day, perhaps loiter about the roads, and ask the passengers if they have had any letters from Revel? Even now I may exclain like him, "My dearest where art thou at this moment? Art thou at Petersburgh, at Riga, or at Revel?" Never, oh! never did I experience such a painful moment! The image of the old man is ever engraven on my memory: it is present to me when I awake, it haunts me in my dreams, and is eternally before me.—

The man who for a long space of 35 years, had never lost sight of his family, was a being of no common stamp.

LORD MAYORS OF LONDON.

THE first Mayor was Henry Fitz-Alwin, and he served from 1191 to 1214. There were then five annual Mayors, when Rt.Serle served five years; Richard Renger four years; Roger Duke four years; and Andrew Bokerel seven years.

The first Mayor who was knighted, was Sir Walter Harvey, in 1293; but since the reign of Richard the Second, 24 or 25 have received that royal civic distinction. William Walworth, who killed Tyler, served in 1375 and 1381. And Sir Richard Whittington, with whom the popular legend is connected, was Sheriff in 1389, and Lord Mayor in 1398, 1407, and 1420. No less than 32 Mayors were ancestors of the present nobility, and first of the several families.

But love shall live and live for ever

And chance and change shall reach it never," Harry Neale.

HERE was something in the earnestness of my manner, and the figurative style of my language, that caught the excited imagination of Leslie. I knew the auditor I had to deal with and following up the impres sion I had made, I finished by persuading him to go home and unburden his sad heart to his wife. I must confess, notwithstanding all I had said, I felt a little solicitude for the result. Who can calculate on the fortitude of one whose whole life has been a round of pleasures? Her gay spirits might revolt at the dark downward path of low humility suddenly pointed out before her, aud might cling to the suuny regions in which they had hitherto revelled. Besides, ruin in fashionable life is accompanied by so many galling mortifications, to which, in other ranks, it is a stranger. In short, I could not meet Leslie the next morning without trepidation. He had made the disclosure. "And how did she bear it?'

'Like an angel! It seemed rather to be a relief to her mind, for she threw her arms round my neck, and asked if this was all that had lately made me unhappy.-But, poor girl,' added he 'she cannot realize the change we must undergo. She has no idea of poverty but in the abstract: she has only read of it in poetry, where it is allied to love. She feels as yet no privation: she suffers no loss of accustomed conveniences nor elegancies. When we

come practically to experience its sordid cares, its paltry wants, its petty humiliations-then will be the real trial.' 'But, said I, now that you have got over the severest task, that of breaking it to her, the sooner you let the world into the secret the better. The disclosure may be mortifying; but then it is a single misery, and soon over : whereas you otherwise suffer it, in anticipation, every hour in the day. It is not poverty so much as pretence, that harasses a ruined man-the struggle between a proud mind and an empty purse-the keeping up a hollow show that must soon come to an end. Have the courage to appear poor, and you disarm poverty of its sharpest sting.' On this point I found Leslie perfectly prepared. He had no false pride himself, and as to his wife, she was only anxious to conform to their altered fortunes.

Some days afterwards he called upon me in the evening. He had disposed of his dwelling-house, and taken a small cottage in the country, a few miles from town. He had been busied all day in sending out furniture. The new establishment required few articles, and of the simplest kind. All the splendid furniture of his late residence had been sold, excepting his wife's harp. That, he said, was too closely associated with the idea of herself; it belonged to the little story of their loves: for some of the sweetest moments of their courtship were those when he had leaned over that instrument and listened to the melting tones of ber voice. I could not but smile at this instance of romantic gallantry in a doating husband.

He was now going out to the cottage, where his wife had been all day superintending its arrangement. My feelings had become strongly interested in the progress of this family story, and as it was a fine evening, Ì offered to accompany him.

He was wearied with the fatigues of the day, and as we walked out, fell into a fit of gloomy musing.

'Poor Mary!' at length, broke, with a heavy sigh, from his lips.

And what of her,' asked I, 'has anything happened

to her ?

'What,' said he, darting an impatient glance, 'is it nothing to be reduced to this paltry situation-to be caged in a miserable cottage- to be obliged to toil almost in the menial concerns of her wretched habitation?'

Has she then repined at the change?'

Repined! she has been nothing but sweetness and

good humour. Indeed, she seems in better spirits than I have ever known her; she has been to me all love, and tenderness, and comfort!'

'Admirable girl!' exclaimed I. You call yourself poor, my friend you never were so rich-you never knew the boundless treasures of excellence you possessed in that

woman.'

"Oh! but, my friend, if this first meeting at the cottage were over, I think I could then be comfortable. But this is her first day of real experience: she has been introduced into a humble dwelling-she has been employed all day in arranging its miserable equipments-she has for the first time, known the fatigues of domestic employment-she has for the first time, looked around her on a home destitute of every thing elegant,-almost of every thing convenient; and may now be sitting down, exhausted and spiritless, brooding over a prospect of future poverty.' There was a degree of probability in this picture that I could not gainsay, so we walked on in silence.

After turning from the main road up a narrow lane, so thickly shaded by forest trees as to give it a complete air of seclusion, we came in sight of the cottage. It was humble enough in its appearance for the most pastoral poet; and yet it had a pleasing rural look. A wild vine over-run one end with a profusion of foliage; a few trees threw their branches gracefully over it; and I observed several pots of flowers tastefully disposed about the door and on the grass plat in front. A small wicket gate opened upon a footpath that wound through some shrubbery to the door. Just as we approached, we heard the sound of music—Leslie grasped my arm; we paused and listened. It was Mary's voice singing, in the style of a most touching simplicity, a little air of which her husband was peculiarly fond.

I felt Leslie's hand tremble on my arm. He stepped forward to hear more distinctly. His steps made a noise on the gravel walk. A bright beautiful face glanced out at the window and vanished-a light footstep was heard -and Mary came tripping forth to meet us: she was in a pretty rural dress of white; a few wild flowers were twisted in her fine hair; a fresh bloom was on her cheek; her whole countenance beamed her smiles-1 had never seen her look so lovely.

My dear George,' cried she 'I am so glad you are come, I have been watching and watching for you; and running

down the lane, and looking out for you. I have set out a table under a beautiful tree behind the cottage; and I've been gathering some of the most delicious strawberries, for I know you are fond of them and we have such excellent cream-and every thing is so sweet and still here -Oh!' said she, putting her arm within his, and looking up brightly in his face, 'Oh, we shall be so happy!'

Poor Leslie was overcome.-He caught her to his bosom -he folded his arms round her he kissed her again and again he could not speak, but the tears gushed into his eyes; and he has often assured me that though the world has since gone prosperously with him, and his life has indeed been a happy one, yet never has he experienced a moment of such utterable felicity.

O FRESH is the breeze of my mountains,
When Morn lifts her bright dewy eye;
And pleasant my birk-shaded fountains,
When the fervours of noontide are high;
And lovely the hour when the gay mantled gloaming
Adown the dim valley glides softly along,
And meets me alone by the fair forest roaming,
To watch the first notes of the nightingale's song..
When the moon from her fleecy cloud scatters
Over ocean her silvery light,

And the whisper of woodlands and waters
Comes soft through the silence of night,-
I love by the haunted tower lonely to linger,
A-dreaming to Fancy's wild witchery given,
And hear, lightly swept by unseen fairy finger,
The harp of the winds-with the music of Heaven.
Yet, oh! there is something awanting,
Which Solitude ne'er can supply!
For friendship my bosom is panting-
For looks that to mine might reply:

I sigh for the friend with kindred devotion,

To worship wild Nature by mountain and grove

I sigh for Eliza !-with dearer emotion

To lighten the home that is hallowed by love!