poor woman, the hours trifled away with the lovely Julia seemed sadly misspent. more admired, more talked of, more flattered than the rest of their acquaintances, dazzled even the father for a while, and led him into expenses beyond his income. The consequence was, that after a short season of dissipation, he was obliged to withdraw from society, to retrench, and to accept the invitations of some distant relatives for his daughters, who, in the solitude of a country life, apart even from each other, found nothing worth living for but the memory of the past, and aspirations for the future. It was while enduring this banishment that Julia wrote the poem referred to; it was done in very idleness, inspired by the necessity of indulging her old thoughts and feelings: she had entered the realms of imagination and poetry. When first she enclosed a note to Susan, there was no ultimate purpose in her mind beyond the hope of hearing of the world, and killing a little time; but when from some expressions in Susan's letters she inferred that they were read by her cousin, she studied her epistles, she wrote for effect, and bright visions of the future began to weave their fantastic shadows before her mental vision. Charles Stephenson had not now to learn that he was but one of the links in the social chain of life, that he must not consult his own wishes and tastes alone, but act as one forming part of a great whole. His mother had been early left a widow, and he had been brought up under her care. There is a prejudice against female influence presiding over the education of a boy, but here the folly of that was demonstrated. No being can exercise so complete, so pure, so holy an influence over another, as a judicious talented good mother can over a son. We will not assert that when Mrs. Stephenson became a wife, nay even when she first became a mother, that she had meditated on her sacred duties, or laid down any definite plan relative to them; perhaps had her husband lived she might never have done so; but when she saw the precious charge committed solely to her care, she paused to consider well her responsibilities; she resolved to devote herself to her duties, and prayed for a blessing on her resolution, and that not | once, but day after day, hour after hour; and her prayer was answered: her son grew up with as few of the vices, and perhaps more of the The bequest of an aged relative enabled Mr. virtues than generally belong to human nature Montgomery once more to take and furnish a in its every-day garb. At the age of twenty-one house; and this he did with the determination he was received into his father's place in the not again to be led into follies and extravabanking-house, and the name of Stephenson gances. 'We have enough for comfort, enough again enrolled as junior partner in the firm. for moderate enjoyment," he said to his daughter; Susan Adams was the child of Mrs. Stephen-" let us be content with that, nor again encounson's only sister, who had died in giving her ter the evils of poverty, the shame and dishobirth, and had not been long survived by her nour of debt, for the sake of the society and flathusband. The orphan had found a home and ateries of a circle who shunned us in misfortune mother with her aunt, and loved her with a as if we had had the plague." daughter's love. Well had she profited by the example and instructions afforded to her, and well did she now repay them. The presiding spirit of that house, the being whose watchful affection thought for all, anticipated wishes, and showered little domestic pleasures and comforts around her, was that pale quiet girl; few noticed her as she glided among them; she seemed to be never in any one's way, yet always at hand when needed. One of those beings whose value is seldom fully appreciated until their ministry is lost to us. Let us now turn to the Montgomeries. Mr. Montgomery was a handsome, intellectual man, in the prime of life, holding an office under government. He had married very young, and his wife had been dead some eight years. At first he had taken a housekeeper, and a steady respectable woman had presided over his home, and cared for his comforts; but, when his daughters became old enough to be taken from school, he had brought them home, and placed them at the head of his establishment, retaining the housekeeper for a few months to "put them in the right way," and then leaving all entirely in their hands. Their world said, "what a delightful family!" "what a handsome family!" "what an accomplished family the Montgomeries are!" and accordingly it petted and courted them; and the vain distinction of being | 66 Mr. Montgomery was a sensible man in the main; during his wife's time he had been domesticated in his habits; and though the smiles and lures bestowed on the handsome widower had attracted him, he had never lost his relish for home; and now that he was approaching the age when, if at all, we begin to see life in its true colours-when quiet comfort and rational society become valued-he looked forward with an anticipation of much happiness to the results of his new arrangements, and welcomed his daughters to town with sincere affection. The absence of Charles and his mother and cousin, and then a visit of the Montgomeries to the sea-side, had hitherto prevented the parties from meeting, eagerly as both desired it; and when they did at last come together, Charles found his ideal fully relized, and Julia that she had not only angled for a "good match," but an agreeable and handsome man. The six individuals we have thus introduced to our readers were assembled round Mr. Montgomery's dinner-table, which was a sociable round one. The host, seated between Mrs. Stephenson and Susan, listened to and replied to the sallies of the lively old lady, although it was easy to perceive that he was ill at ease. Julia and her sister, with Charles between them, chattered away with the utmost gaiety. The fish and soup were being removed almost untasted, for one was burnt, and the other "boiled to rags:" a long pause ensued; Mr. Montgomery looked at his daughter, who, too intent upon her chat with Charles to attend to anything else, transmitted the look to her sister, who did not notice it at all. "Will you ring, Matilda ?" said her father. "Permit me:" observed Charles, springing up and performing that office. "How tiresome servants are! remarked Matilda sotto voce to her neighbour Susan. "Are they?" was the reply. "Dear me! Miss Adams, are they not? Why unless you follow them from morning until night, nothing is done. They are the plague of one's life." "Then I suppose that we are very fortunate, for ours give us very little trouble. My aunt has one system, and as soon as they have learned that, all goes on like clock-work." has had to train her up! I, alas, have only acquired useless accomplishments!" Charles pitied and admired her, and thought how soon his mother's advice and Susan's example would make her all the most exigeant spirit would require. Wise and superior as men deem themselves, they often cannot read the riddle of a woman's mind. It is no less strange than true, that during courtship the two sexes carry on a covert warfare, in which each one tries to circumvent the other. There is little truth at the best of times in their dealings with each other; both are on their guard, both veil every failing, and put forward every virtue, or charm, or semblance of either, which they possess-flatter each other's weaknesses, and endeavour to conceal their own-nay, become absolute chameleons. And this apparently from no absolute hypocrisy, from no deep-laid plan of deceit, but solely from the desire to please, to win each other's approbation. A most laudable desire, if carried out, if continued until what was mere acting becomes the habit of the mind or life. But how seldom is this the case! The game is carried on until the The entrance of the dinner stopped the philippic which was just bursting from Matilda's lips. The mutton was over-done, the poultry quite raw, all was of a piece. Mrs. Stephenson endeavoured to prevent her host from dwelling upon his annoyance, by conversing upon a thou-stake played for is won; then the mask is thrown sand topics; but he was vexed and mortified; and even Charles, absorbed as he was in the delights of love, felt as if he could have been glad to have found something eatable. "Julia, my dear! another time when we have any friends to dinner, I'll thank you to see that there is something like one decently-cooked dish at least served up!" said Mr. Montgomery. 66 "It is a great shame that that girl cannot send up a dinner properly!" observed Matilda. "I am afraid you will never honour us with your company again, madam," said Julia to Mrs. Stephenson with one of her sweetest smiles. "The only apology I can offer is my inexperience, and the difficulty of getting a good cook. I dare say you often find that yourself, even in your well-appointed ménage." "We are seldom annoyed by it, my dear; for, as in my young days a woman's education comprehended a thorough knowledge of all domestic duties, I learned to supply the faults of my domestics; and that same lore I have been unfashionable enough to transmit to Susan, who is, to do her justice, an apt pupil." "Is it possible that you actually go into the kitchen and make pies and puddings, and speak with oracular precision as to the space of time fish must boil and mutton roast?" inquired Matilda, looking at Susan with as much curiosity as if such a proceeding were in her opinion exceedingly derogatory. Susan replied only by a quiet smile, and immediately endeavoured to turn the conversation. Mr. Montgomery muttered something about household duties being the true province of woman; to which Mrs. Stephenson replied by gentle raillery; and Julia, while she turned her lovely eyes on Susan with a look full of feeling, murmured," Would that I had been blessed with a mother's guidance, or the instruction of so kind and judicious a friend as Miss Adams aside, the real dispositions peep out; and come more boldly forward, and after awhile remain fully developed in all their native ugliness. Fatal error! thus when bound together by the holiest ties, to deem that those virtues, those graces, those qualities which led to the union, which afforded the promised foundation of happiness, which fascinated and delighted, that those may now be dispensed with. Fatal error on both sides! and especially on that of the woman, who has staked her life-long happiness on that one throw-matrimony-and who must, if miserable, hide her griefs in her own bosom, for the world will not fail to blame her chiefly if not entirely. The world rarely spares the defenceless, and the laws were made by men. then and reflect, ye thoughtless girls who are playing this dangerous game, and consider whether ye can become that which ye seem, in order to win a lover and a husband; and carefully scan the character of him ye would win. presume not to advise the lordly sex, but only say, 'be sincere, as ye would deserve to merit being treated with sincerity!" Pause We Time jogged quietly on, bringing with it shadows of change, scarcely perceptible to those who day by day saw them, yet shadows which deepened and darkened into substantiality. Charles was still the ardent admirer of Julia Montgomery. Her faults were all viewed through the couleur de rose optics of love and imagination-(we had almost said love or imagination, for that which is commonly called love is the mere phantasm of a heated imagination)—some of them indeed actually seemed virtues, for they flattered his vanity. Accustomed as he had been to the society of his mother, whom he venerated, and his cousin, whose quiet virtues commanded respect as well as affection, it was something new-and from its novelty very delightful-to have to do with a being who needed guidance, who asked forgiveness of her faults, with sweet semblance of contrition and submission to his superior judgment; and though it was only to commit the same in another shape again directly, yet still it was a charm. Julia knew her power full well, and the means by which she had gained and maintained it; educated at a fashionable school, where accomplishments were made the main study, she had made wonderful progress in them-all else was merely superficial. Here she had heard that the great aim of every girl should be to secure "a good match;" and it had often been impressed upon her, that with her beauty she could not fail. Knowing that her father's income died with him, her resolve was taken, and Charles Stephenson was the first who appeared worthy of the exercise of her skill. But she had no intention of marrying him while he continued to be merely a junior partner, while she would have had to share the house with his mother, whom she feared, and his cousin, who was honoured by her special dislike, carefully hidden beneath the simulation of great friendship. Mr. Montgomery saw all his visions of comfort and happiness still unrealized; his house was neglected, his income wasted, his comforts wholly disregarded. In the morning he must breakfast alone, or run the risk of being too late at his office. In the evening the dinner was ill-dressed, ill-chosen, badly served, and the girls eager to go out with some party, or to some party, or to receive a giddy set at home. Remonstrance, entreaty, threats, all had been tried in vain, his daughters would not or could not mend. Some men, under such circumstances, would have sought consolation in conviviality, in gambling, in gay society; but Mr. Montgomery was not one of these; home, domestic enjoyments, intellectual pursuits, and social pleasures, were his ideal of happiness; accordingly he was miserable under the existing state of things, and naturally enough sought about for a remedy. "How often Pa is at your house," observed Julia to her lover. "Is he courting your Ma or Miss Adams ?" The remark drew Charles's attention to the fact of his intended father-in-law's oft-repeated visits, and with some feeling of annoyance, felt he scarce knew why, he replied, “You love to jest, dearest! my mother is rather too old, and Susan too young for him." Yet he could not forget it. His mother would never marry again, of that he was confident; and Susan-Mr. Montgomery was much too old for her! He did not love Susan, certainly not, his heart was devoted to his lovely Julia; yet the idea that she should love, should marry another, annoyed him strangely. He had never been accustomed to dispense with her society, her good offices, her sisterly cares; and these even his dazzled senses felt that his beautiful Julia could never supply. Besides, he did not like to fancy these tokens of affection bestowed on another. Yet he loved her not! it was im possible he could while his whole soul was devoted to another. The best of us are but selfish mortals after all! Charles would fain have retained the sisterly offices and affection of his cousin, to supply all the deficiencies of his fair intended, for he loved his comfort—what man does not? and had always been accustomed to be an object of care and consideration to his mother and Susan. Julia thought only of herself, and her own pleasures and wishes, though she apologized so prettily, and with such apparent contrition, for every fault of omission or commission, that it was impossible not to forgive and still love her. They were sitting together in the window of the drawing-room, twilight had fallen, and the rising moon was just silvering the tops of the trees in front of the row of houses in which Mr. Montgomery lived. Matilda was practising the "Celarius" in the back room; Julia, half sitting half reclining on a causeuse, was rhapsodizing on the moon, moonlight, silvery clouds, whispering trees, &c. &c., and looked very beautiful and graceful all the while. Charles was admiring her, and listening to the modulated tones of her musical voice, but of the sense of her remarks he understood little, for, truth to tell, he had been engaged in executing one of the numerous commissions always found for him by his beloved, and had not had time to go home to get a bit of dinner. We believe that positive heroes are never guilty of so vulgar a sensation as hunger, and consequently cannot claim that rank for Charles, for he was decidedly so; and there was a feeling of something very much akin to anger rising in his bosom as he found that Julia never paid the least attention to the hint that he had not dined. 66 I wish you would give me some tea, Julia!" he said rather unceremoniously, interrupting one of her romantic flights. "Certainly! how careless of me not to think of it-you must be starved! Will you ring the bell, love? The witching influence of this sweet twilight hour, and the delight of having you near me, render me forgetful of all but happiness !" Charles rang, and rang again and again. At length Matilda ceased her amusement to exclaim-" What is the use of letting Mr. Stephenson ring in that way, when you know that Mary is gone to the dressmaker's, and that gossiping slut Ann has not come back yet with the last volume of that novel. I am dying to know how it ends!" "True, I had forgotten that they were both out. You will not mind waiting another half hour or so, dear Charles, will you? They'll be sure to be back by then.' A vision of the difference between this and his home for an instant flashed across him-the showy furniture, the crowd of useless ornaments, and the indolent helpless girl, contrasted forcibly with the old-fashioned, but comfortable and handsome room in which his mother sat, calmly attentive to all around her, and his cousin who seemed to divine and anticipate all their wants and wishes. But then Susan was not to be better-Charles certainly thought that Julia compared with Julia; one could not point to her would become all he could wish. And what with pride and say, "that lovely and accom- did Mr. Montgomery think? He sought not to plished creature is my wife." Still he could deceive; as a father, he could not point out and have wished that his Julia had been a little more condemn the faults of his children, deeply as he thoughtful-if she should not alter hereafter- regretted them, bitterly as he felt them; he enif as his wife she should be so neglectful of the deavoured, by advice to Julia, and by judicious comforts and interests of her household! Hastily hints to Charles, to prepare her for a better he turned from the contemplation of such a exercise of her duties, and warn and direct him. thought. It did not coincide with his wishes, The property left to him he had settled upon his and therefore he would not entertain it. How children, resolving to live upon his income; many of us do the same! we should save our- and who can blame him, if some scheme for selves much misery, many hours of bitter and ensuring a happy home occupied his mind? useless regret, if we would only exercise our Where he now was he saw such a life as he judgment a little more, and not suffer hopes and loved, such pursuits as he found pleasure in, imaginations to fulfil its functions, and blind us such feelings and thoughts as he could approve even to the most palpable truths. and share; and the wish to call a similar home his own, daily acquired intensity and strength. 66 They must be back soon, or we shall be too late to accompany the Macphersons to Jullien's," said Matilda. "To be sure! we are going to Covent Garden to-night. You'll accompany us, dearest Charles; music is so much sweeter when we listen to its harmonies in the company of those we love!" "I may perhaps join you there, but I must go home first," was her lover's reply, now actually aroused to anger by her evident carelessness as to all which concerned him. But this quiet order of things was not to last. Mrs. Stephenson's health had for some time past been failing, and at length she became seriously ill. Then it was that she exhorted her son to consider well what he was about, and talked seriously to Julia, who heard her in silence, with a sweet look of penitence on her features, and promised to try and reform; and then, as she walked home with her sister, congratulated Matilda on not being obliged to go up into the sick room moping, and have to be lectured by the old woman, and domineered over by that "pattern miss" Susan. "Au revoir, then! Join us as early as you possibly can, for I shall not half enjoy the treat until you are by my side," said Julia, rising, and begging Matilda to fetch a light, that they" I would have done with the whole set," she might dress. How different a scene greeted him at his own residence! The curtains were drawn, the lamp lighted, the steaming urn hissed on the board; Susan was ready to pour out tea as soon as her aunt and Mr. Montgomery had finished their game of chess; and meanwhile she was putting the finishing stitches to a purse. She seemed positively pretty, and her low but merry laugh was certainly very pleasant to hear. Charles's entrance destroyed the group; the game was set aside, to be finished another time; a side-table was quickly covered with a cloth and cold meats. His mother rallied him a bit about his truancy, but desisted, as she saw that all was not quite right in his mind; and conversation flowed on. He no longer heard poetical rhapsodies, sweet flatteries, silly nothings enwrapped in flowing words, but lively and animated discussions on all that was most interesting in men and things. Mr. Montgomery's cultivated mind enabled him to amuse and interest, and Charles wondered how his daughters could fail to appreciate the advantage his society might be to them. But somehow he did not wonder that Mr. Montgomery should prefer the company of his mother and cousin, and the quiet enjoyments of their home, to the solitude and discomforts of his own. Was it not strange that the probability of his own home being as comfortless if Julia presided over it never struck him? It certainly did not; for with that happy self-conceit which leads us to believe that we can manage better than others-that our influence and tact are far superior, our system far said one day, "for it will be terribly dull work if the old lady does die, only I really do like Charles better than any one else who has offered; and besides, he is richer, and it will be very nice to preside over that fine old house; it will look beautiful when I have remodelled all the furniture. I suppose I shall have to go in mourning! Luckily black is very becoming, and I really want some new dresses. Pa gets shockingly stingy! Ah, Charles! were you going home? We have just been to see your dear mother. She is, I think, rather better to-day, and has been giving me some excellent advice, which I must endeavour to profit by. Little did I know the full extent of my loss when I wept over my poor mother-kind as my father was, he could not supply her place." Charles pressed her hand fondly as he drew her arm within his, and escorted her to her house. Mrs. Stephenson died, calmly, peacefully; her life had been a course of preparation for death, and to her the grave was but the portal to another and a better world. But one wish had she, but one sorrow; she could have wished to have united her son to Susan, she grieved to see him attached to one so unlikely to make him happy. To Susan her aunt's death was a dreadful loss; it broke up every tie and pleasure of her life. She must separate from the home of her infancy, her happy childhood, her pleasant girlhood; must quit the cousin who was to her as a brother, who had grown up with her, and was connected with every fond memory, and must go among strangers. Julia Montgomery came to invite her to stay with them; but despite the smiling lip and friendly tone, and language of sympathy, Susan's woman's instinct told her that the invitation was not willingly given; and besides, though she scarcely knew why, she felt it would not be right or delicate to accept it. Accordingly she resolved to go to an old lady who had often begged for her society, and playfully told Mrs. Stephenson, that if once she got Susan Adams, she would take very good care to keep her. The loss of his cousin was a second blow to Charles, and he could with difficulty be brought to see the necessity of her leaving him. "What am I to do without you, Susan? Who will now advise with me, assist me to fulfil my duties, be to me a friend and companion? My mother and you both gone, this house will be a desert!" Only for a short time, dear Charles; then you will bring home your bride, and all will then be gayer than ever." "Gayer, possibly, but not so happy! I feel as if a dark cloud was thickening over me; my heart is oppressed, and a nameless dread of the future weighs it down." "You must strive against such impressions, dear cousin they are the consequence of your recent irreparable loss. Our life has so long been peaceful and happy, that the sudden shock of grief stuns the senses; but we must not repine, or weakly give way to useless sorrow. Let us remember the example of her we have lost, the virtues she used to inculcate, and the conduct she would have approved, and endeavour to act up to it: so shall we best testify respect and affection for her memory.” "But you need not leave me, Susan; at least you need not go away into the country. Why not have accepted the Montgomery's invitation, and then I could have seen you every day; and besides, your society would have benefited Julia so much. If I could only see her possessed of some of your domestic virtues, I should be happy." Susan did not think Julia likely to be improved by any one, much less by her; however, it was no use to tell Charles so; she might be, she hoped she was, mistaken; still she felt no inclination to risk her own comfort, and act contrary to her inclinations, for the vain hope of working such an unlikely change. She therefore made all her arrangements to depart. Her last visit was paid to the Montgomery's. They were all at home, and all expressed their regrets at losing her. Matilda uttered hers with her usual careless flippancy-Julia with that air of sincerity which was so habitual to her, and served to veil all her real sentiments; and Mr. Montgomery spoke with the feeling of a friend. "Would that we could have retained you among us, Miss Adams!" he said; "I shall most deeply feel the loss of you and my esteemed friend your aunt. The pleasant hours spent at her house will be among my happiest recollections; and the hope that at some not far distant time we may again renew our acquaintance, is my only consolation." "Susan must come up and stay with us when my house is cheered by the presence of a mistress; must she not, Julia?" said Charles. The reply was in a soft whisper; but Matilda's glance at her sister was answered by one that spoke a very different meaning from that conveyed in the whisper. Susan departed on the following morning for Devonshire. The house was almost entirely shut up, for Charles merely required a room or two, the greater part of his time being spent from home. Julia, finding that his mourning prevented him from visiting any public place, and seeing that he evidently expected her also to pay a similar respect to the memory of his mother, discovered that her health was failing, and that change of air was necessary; and having spelt for, and obtained an invitation for herself and sister to stay awhile at the house of the same family which had offered her a home during her father's difficulties, quitted town with Matilda, quite indifferent to the fact that her father and lover were now left to their own resources. (To be continued.) When I was quite a little child I learned to lisp thy songs; Thou taught'st me all things beautiful, Thou taught'st me all things pure; And now that I have grown a man Many a happy child hath drunk Draughts from thy mind's bright well, Far more refreshing to the soul Than ever words can tell. Many a heart-sick, toiling man, Rewakened in the mind. And many a child and man unborn, I would I were a child again, For life's most true and peaceful joy OF W. W. |