with his little twinkling eyes, as if to ascertain which would best suit him as a wife. The youngest of the three was a gallant of more than forty, a confirmed gambler, in consequence of which, other dissolute fellows soon attached themselves to him, in whose society he gratified his passion.

Thus had our quiet little house suddenly become the scene of noise, bustle, and bad company. These friends, which had been confided to the family, made me fear that the father of the girls was a rough, perhaps, worthless man, and I had willingly withdrawn, if Rosa's glances, coldly as they met mine, had not held me fast. I resembled the moth which has burnt itself in the flame of the candle, but still, unable to live or die, hovers about the pernicious flame.

It was impossible to feel any longer comfortable in the house, especially as my jealous eye soon discovered that the old marquis, without declaring himself, had already chosen Rosa for his mistress, for he distinctly gave her the preference to her sisters. She herself was very friendly towards him, and appeared rather to seek than to avoid his company. I would willingly have persuaded myself that Rosa was wholly unworthy of my love, that she was but an insignificant creature, scarcely meriting respect; but as often as I tried to quiet myself with these sophistries, or sought to degrade her image in my soul, she had but to pass through the room to cast down all my accusations with a glance.

I felt wretched, and began to find fault with myself for not having the courage to leave a neighbourhood where I was constantly tormented. Another week passed in this manner, when one evening I found a few people assembled at the house, amongst whom the three friends were not wanting. Rosa was lively, without being extravagantly so; Jenny serious as usual; and Lidia, contrary to custom, talked with me in the most friendly manner. It almost seemed as if a tender feeling had taken possession of her young heart, her bright eyes were so sparkling, her pretty smiling mouth so friendly, that I thought she had never before looked so beautiful. A little music was proposed, to pleasure some elderly ladies, and after a considerable period, there was again a more refined entertainment; stiller nature pervaded the apartment. The mother appeared to watch Rosa from the distance as she conversed with the marquis; but although Rosa's tone was so lively, she was not quite at ease, and chiefly occupied herself with music, in order, by singing and playing, to conceal her disorder. She constantly observed Lidia and myself, and never lost sight of us, not even when singing in the most pathetic manner.

At length we broke up, and on returning home I was greatly surprised to find a scrap of paper in my hands. In the hurry in which each seized his hat, I had taken a wrong one, and found inside between the silk a note containing the following :—

"You say I do not love you? What do to do all. Meet me on Friday on the spot, you require? What sacrifice? I am ready by the little fountain, where I first confessed my love for you, but not earlier than between ten and eleven o'clock; I will then slip out of the house to arrange with you what is to be done. "Ever yours."

I cannot describe the condition to which this unholy note reduced me. For whom was it intended? From whom? So much as I had lived with the family, I could not recollect if I had ever seen the handwriting of the girls. How could it occur to one of them? how could they sink so low as to write to the drunkard, or the wretched gambler, in words which betrayed a long and confidential intercourse? If I pictured to myself the serious Jenny, or the childish Lidia, who had lately been so friendly with me, I could not possibly believe that the vile note was addressed to either of these contemptible fellows: the greatest probability, therefore, was, that it was my beloved Rosa, the most prudent and roguish, the one most likely to dissemble and commence an intrigue. But had she been thus debased! I thought she would have expressed herself differently.

Should I visit the men successively? I heard they had gone on a journey, and how was I to find out the guilty one? I might also compromise the unknown writer.

If I applied to the mother, I knew not what mischief I might create. Again I thought of making Jenny my confidant but when I reflected on her silence I could not promise myself any help from her. And what after all if she were the writer of the epistle?

I therefore waited until the owner of the detested hat should claim it in return for mine. I would then challenge the scoundrel, and thus revenge the injured honour of the family. I was like a madman, and ran so wildly about the room that my servant was fearful for my health.

At length it struck me that the best would be to let the few days pass, and to repair myself, at the appointed hour, to the spot mentioned. I wrote lettersclosed my account at my banker's, paid the necessary visits, and had my things packed in order that, if Rosa should be there in the night, I could immediately leave Geneva.

In the interval I was like a drunken
I felt that after the discovery my

man.

elasticity would vanish and leave my whole frame powerless and exhausted. I lived and acted in complete giddiness. The house, so often visited, I now avoided. The appointed day at length came. I regarded with a dull eye the scene which nature presented to me. I began to recover myself as the twilight extinguished all forms and shapes, and the moon rising awoke me from my torpor. I imagined I was taking leave of her for the last time; for, young as I was, I believed my life was already ended, and in the frame of mind I then was, I sincerely wished for death.

I concealed myself in the thick bushes, keeping the little fountain in view. The well-known house was not far off. Several times I fancied I beheld some one moving, but was deceived by the fickle moonshine.

At length, and my stunned senses had not observed its approach, a white figure stood at the fountain-I rushed from the bushes- -was near, and recognized her-it was indeed Rosa. A shudder crept over me, and I fell senseless at her feet.

As I came to myself I found her anxiously attending to me. She was kneeling near me, and chafing my temples, while my head rested in her lap.

I seized her hands and rose. She rose also, and looked at me in astonishment. "How do you come here, my dear friend?" she asked in the kindest manner; "I expected quite a different person. And what has happened to you? What is the matter?"

"Can you still ask?" I stammered in broken tones, and a cold sweat fell in large drops from my forehead; "you ask, and behold how you have crushed me! Must I now, for the first time, tell you in cold words, that the heart, which you have broken, loved you unspeakably? Take back the wretched note which accidentally fell into the hands of one for whom it was not intended; be happy with him you love, whoever he may be, and receive with this fatal note my farewell, for you will see me no more."

Astonished and trembling, she took the paper from my hand. "You love me?" she exclaimed: "how can that be? This avowal is so new-and it was that

66

"Yes," I exclaimed bitterly, "it was because I was indubitably convinced that you had sacrificed yourself to one totally unworthy of you that the shock prostrated me at your feet. O that I had never awoke! You might scorn me, and love another-but, O heaven! it is too dreadful that I can no longer respect you."

"Sit down with me on this bank," said Rosa, almost serenely: "a strange fatality brings us here together in the night, and compels us to confide in each other What I think of the avowal of your love you will probably learn to-morrow, or shortly;

the most important now is to tell you that this fatal note does not come from me.' "Not from you?" I exclaimed with the greatest joy.

66

No," she continued, "it is from that imprudent girl, the unfortunate Lidia. The brawling drunkard, whom I equally with yourself despise, pursued the inexperienced child from the first day of his arrival. One may often remark that girls so young give the first lover who declares himself more than due encouragement, chiefly from vanity. If it be an elderly man, his wooing has more effect on the inexperienced than that of a youth. I kept sight of my sister, and saw how the coarseness, yes, even brutality, of this unworthy man imposed upon her, and made her bear with his importunities, partly from fear, partly from inclination. Thus he had gained her confidence, pressed her hands, embraced her when he thought himself unnoticed, and I was convinced that he would gradually proceed further, and that the innocent girl would perhaps be unable to resist his perfidious attacks. On that last evening I observed that something was to be arranged, but my eye was so sharp that Lidia did not venture to speak confidentially with the officer. She had already become so cunning as to imagine that she could deceive me by a long friendly conversation with you. After the music, as I still kept her from her lover, she was doing something in the hall with the hats; but it did not strike me that she was making an appointment. I discovered however, by pressing her, that she had received letters from the man, who possesses neither fortune nor a respectable position in society, and I was successful in moving her, by representing the danger to which she exposed herself. She tremblingly confessed all, and promised never again to see the villain. I came hither to say everything to the ignoble fellow that my anger had suggested, and to give him his dismissal. Such were my motives for coming where I find you. That which I would have told him he shall now learn by means of a sharp and cutting letter, and the affair will thus be ended

(To be continued next week.)

WOOLWICH AND SHOOTER'S
HILL.

To thousands of Londoners, Woolwich and Shooter's hill, from the ease and cheapness with which they can now be approached by steam-boat and railway, are admired as recent discoveries. In consequence, building is going on very briskly in those neighbourhoods. Woolwich, with its splendid arsenal, dockyard, and repository, offers an interesting spectacle to the lovers of grand sights, which it is impossible to ex

haust by one or two visits, while its noble common and the romantic adjacent scenery. present no common attractions to the admirers of nature. The consequence is, improvements are making in and about Woolwich with great activity. That neighbourhood promises to be almost as much frequented in future as it was in former days, when Greenwich was the seat of Royalty. Then, as is shown by Holler's print, the heath, from Shooter's hill, was filled with places for supplying refreshments to the holiday-making pedestrians. There was annually a grand scene on May-day. May-poles, selected from the wood, adorned with the blossoms of the blackthorn, were set up, and there the queen of the May, being duly elected, held her court, and the merry dance was prolonged

"From grey-eyed morn till dewy eve." Royalty did not disdain occasionally to honour these scenes with its presence, and to join in the Mayings." It is recorded that Henry VII assembled his whole Court upon Shooter's hill, and passed his Mayday in the greatest festivity. Henry VIII was not behind his father in the enjoyment of these sports. On May-day that King proceeded with his Queen, Catherine, in great splendour from Greenwich Palace to Shooter's hill, and was there received by 200 archers clad in green. Their leader personated Robin Hood, and these, says the historian, gave the King such excellent sport, and displayed so much skill in the exercise of their bows and arrows, that their captain was knighted, and the men rewarded by gifts. Another account states that the same monarch went to Shooter's hill with his Royal consort (not Catherine, but Anna Boleyn), to drink the mineral waters, which were reported to have much medicinal virtue. It was probably to the well now in the possession of the Board of Ordnance, in the lane leading to the Red Lion, that their Majesties repaired. Close to the spot a little romantic Swiss cottage has recently been erected, where, though at present it is a private residence, waterdrinkers, and drinkers of liquor stronger than water, will probably be shortly invited, to enjoy the fine prospects it commands, as, from the windows of this pleasant abode, a view is obtained of the Dover road, Blackheath, the shipping on the river, the Essex coast, and in the distance St Paul's Church. The picturesque lane in which it is found, is the Pentonville of Woolwich, and the Londoners have more than begun to find out the attractions of the locality. Several houses have sprung up there in the course of the last year, and the foundations of three or four more are now being laid. The delightful walks round the hill in every direction, the frequent military spectacles beheld from this emi

nence, the medicinal waters, and, above all. the pure air, so beneficial to invalids, promises to render this a favourite little spa. Here the valetudinarian, to all the advantages of country retirement, may add the high luxury of receiving visits and news hourly from the metropolis. If the view enjoyed from the hill has not all the picturesque beauty of Richmond's "enchanting vale," it presents, among its nobly-varied features, one which that far-famed retreat could never boast-a moving exhibition of half the commerce of the world. This gives the spectacle additional animation and importance-it can be reached at half the expence and half the time which a visit to Richmond exacts.

THE CARTOONS IN WESTMINSTER HALL.

WESTMINSTER Hall, with its Cartoons offered for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament, is now thrown open to the public. No admission money is demanded except on certain days, with a view to the accommodation of those who would wish to avoid a crowd.

During the time the exhibition continued, the visitors paying one shilling each, the attendance averaged eighteen hundred daily. From the funds thus realized the judges have been able to allow grants of 100l. each to compensate the artists of the ten next best drawings to those originally preferred. Those to whom this honour has been awarded are the following:

1. Una coming to seek the assistance of Gloriana.' By Mr F. Howard.

2. The seven acts of Mercy. Una and the Red Cross Knight led by Mercy to the Hospital of the Seven Mercies.' Mr G. V. Rippingille.

3. The Death of King Lear.' Mr F. B. Pickersgill, jun.

4. The Angel Raphael discoursing with Adam.' Sir W. Ross, R.A.

5. Man beset by contending passions.? Mr Howard, R.A.

6. The Brothers releasing the Lady from the Enchanted Chair'-Milton's Comus.' Mr F. R. Stephanoff.

7. The Brothers driving out Comus and his Rabble.' M. J. Wallace.

8. St Augustine Preaching to the Britons' Mr W. C. Thomas.

9. Alfred the Great assuming the Harper's dress.' Mr M. Claxton.

10. The Plague of London, A.D. 1349." Mr E. Corbould.

It is yet possible that funds may be gained to remunerate in some degree other deserving artists, who have incurred some expense, besides giving their time and labour, whom the rewards at present voted cannot reach.

TREATMENT OF IRELAND IN

ANCIENT TIMES.

SOME striking facts are communicated to the world by the Archæological Society of Dublin. The treatment of the Irish in former days was most cruel. A milder and better system has been adopted in our time. We hope its timely appreciation by the present race of Irishmen will render it impossible for those least favourable to them ever to think of returning to the old one.

The title of the English monarchs to reign over Ireland is said to be derived from a grant made by Pope Adrian the Second. In a statute of Edward IV, bear ing date 1467, it is thus set forth :

"As our holy Father Adrian, Pope of Rome, was possessed of all the seigniory of Ireland in his demesne, as of fee, in right of his Church of Rome, and to the intent that vices should be subdued, and virtue encouraged, he aliened the same land to the king of England, for a certain rent to be received in England, to hold to the king of England and his heirs for ever: by which grant said subjects of Ireland owe their obedience to the king of England, as to their sovereign Lord, as by said bull appears. It is, therefore, ordained, that all archbishops and bishops of Ireland shall, upon the monition of forty days, proceed to the excommunication of all disobedient subjects, and if such archbishop or bishop be negligent or remiss in doing their duties in the premises, they shall forfeit one hundred pounds."

The second enactment is not a little remarkable:

66

Also, it is ordained and established, that no alliance by marriage, gossipred, fostering of children, concubinage, or by amour, nor in any other manner, be henceforth made between the English and Irish of the one part, or of the other part; and that no Englishman, nor other person, being at peace, do give or sell to any Irishman, in time of peace or war, horses or armour, nor any manner of victuals in time of war; and if any shall do to the contrary, and thereof be attainted, he shall have judgment of life and member, as a traitor to our lord the king."

Another very singular enactment is that which relates to the personal appearance of Irishmen and Englishmen :

"As there is no diversity of habit between the English marchers and Irish enemies, by colour of which the Irish enemies come into the English counties as English marchers, and robb and pillage on the high way, and destroy the common people by lodging on them by nights, and slay the husbandmen, and take their goods to the Irish: it is enacted, that he that will be taken for an Englishman shall not use a beard upon his upper lip alone, and that the said

lip shall be once shaved, at least in every two weeks, the offender to be treated as an Irish enemy. -Original Roll. This act was not repealed until A.D. 1635."

Englishmen were at one time forbidden by law to permit Irishmen to feed cattle on lands belonging to the first. This was of course resented, but the method of revenging it has something farcical in it. An affidavit, made Jan. 9, 1641, at the time of the great insurrection and massacre, relative to the practices of the insurgents, runs as follows::

6

"Thomas Johnson, vicar of Turloghe and Kellycomon, county of Mayo, saith that the rebells in the baronies of Costelloe and Gallen, in meere hatred and derision of the English and their very cattle, and contempt and derision of the English lawes, did ordinarily and commonly prefer bills of indictment, and bring the English breed of cattle to be tried upon juries; and having, in their fashion, arraigned those cattle, then their scornful judge, then sitting amongst them, would say, they look as if they could speake Englishe, give them the book and see if they can read,' pronouncing the words legit an non,' to the jury; and then, because they stood mute and could not read, he would and did pronounce judgment and sentence of death against them, and they were committed and put to slaughtering.-Jurat 14th Jan. 1543.-Co. Mayo. Andrew Adaire, late of Moygownagh, county Mayo, Esq., saith, that the name of the English was so hateful to the Irish, that they would not only kill all they met with (if not strangely prevented), but would kill all the Englishbreed of cattle, sometyme jeeringly saying, they would speak English, and therefore they would kill them."

The miserable varieties of lawless outrage and severe legislation fill an immense space in the history of Ireland. Would we could see it had been succeeded by order and content, to invite more indulgent laws!

OLD PACKHORSE ROAD.

SIR,-In a late number of The Mirror,' a hope was expressed that the writer of a book then under review would take some notice of the active steps now taken by certain parochial despots to stop up the old packhorse roads as nuisances. I can direct your attention to one that has lately been turned out of its course. The road leading from Highbury Barn Tavern to the Sluice House used to pass through Highbury Vale, considerably to the right of one that now exists between rows of newly-built houses. The old way cannot have been stopped up for public convenience. Would it be intruding too much to ask for whose private benefit the change was made?—I am, Sir,

PAUL PRY.

60

THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BARING. THIS family is not of the number which derives its importance from "the pride of ancient days." John Baring, Esq., of Larkbeer, Devonshire, son of Franz Baring, minister of the Lutheran church at Bremen, is mentioned as its founder. He lived in the last century, and it was his third son, Francis Baring, Esq., born April 18, 1740, that paved the way for the dignities which now belong to the name. This gentleman was a trader, and the magnitude of his operations caused him to be distinguished as "the first merchant in the world. He was created a baronet, May 29, 1793. He died September 12, 1810, and was succeeded in his titles by his eldest son Thomas, now Sir Thomas Baring.

Alexander, the second son, on the death of Sir Francis, became the head of the large and wealthy commercial establishment in the city. Great was its reputation and immense its importance when it came into his hands both were immeasurably increased under his management.

His powerful mind, however, was not confined to commercial matters. From a reference to the parliamentary history of the last thirty or forty years, it will be found that he took an active part in most of the debates called forth by the great questions successively brought before the House of Commons, in the course of that long period

On the 10th of April, 1835, his lordship was raised to the peerage as Baron Ashburton, of Ashburton, in the county of Devonshire.

In that year we find him in office as President of the Board of Trade and Master of the Mint. His lordship is a trustee of the British Museum, a privy councillor, and a D.C.L. of Oxford.

His lordship has not only served his country in the capacity above described, but since his retirement from office Lord Ashburton consented to go to America as Ambassador Extraordinary. He happily succeeded in putting an end to the dif

ferences which had long threatened a rupture between England and the United States. In acquitting himself of this difficult task, the noble lord was attended by the singular good fortune of his former life. Though loud complaints were made against the treaty which he had concluded on its being first received, when it came to be submitted to the consideration of parliament all objections to it "vanished into thin air." A debate originated in hostility in the House of Commons, after one or two adjournments was interrupted by some accidental interference of the forms of the house, and its opponents were content not to renew the attack, and subsequently thanks were voted to his lordship for the important service he had rendered his country. Through his whole career he has exerted himself to extend the commerce of England, and his last public act (at present on record) has given her the grateful assurance of continued peace.

LYRIC ODE TO ROBERT BURNS, THE AYRSHIRE BARD.

By J. Paterson, Surgeon, Parkhead, near
Glasgow.

ONCE Nature strung her rural lyre,
And roam'd each hill and glen,
In quest of bard, with rustic fire,
Among the sons of men.

But finding none, she strayed and wept
In solitude alone,-

The music on the wild chords slept,

The melody was gone.

At length she came to winding Ayr,

Where the rapt mavis sings;
The sweetest song was warbled there,
Ere breath'd on lyric strings.
She gazed, no noble bard was there,

But a poor rustic boy
Wild warbled on the banks of Ayr,
With nature's simple joy.
Yet in fine frenzy roll'd his eyes,

Full on his gaze she turns,
She knew her bard, and raptured cries,
My lyre belongs to Burns.