"Because I was grown before I knew the Doc- | prospect. As they were standing on the brow of tor, and after this period, to change our mode of a hill, they saw a carriage approaching them speaking has the appearance of affectation, and I rapidly. In a few seconds Donhoven perceived the should never do it unless the way in which I had horses had taken fright, and the driver soon lost been taught was defective. If I had been disposed, his seat; when the frightened animals were near at that time of life, to have a model for speaking enough he seized the bridle of one and guided them the language elegantly, I should have chosen Dr. in the opposite direction from the precipice they Rush, and not only in this, but in all else worthy of were approaching. There were four gentlemen in imitation." the carriage, and after thanking Donhoven for his timely aid, one of them mounted the seat of the dethroned driver. As he joined the ladies, Mrs. Dorsay said, "quite a heroic achievement." "If all were of your way of thinking, Orrah, the world would be stationary, not progressive." "I know," said Orrah, "in my zeal for avoiding affectation I sometimes err. If I had a young person to educate, I should counsel them always to use the most correct standard." 66 Perhaps they would disregard your precepts and follow your example." "There would be no danger of that, provided my example be at war with fashion. Young people are prone to like what is fashionable, and indeed sometimes persons of more advanced years. I know a gentleman, (to be sure he was not a man of letters,) who had always been accustomed to say bile for boil, and brile for broil; by some means he found out he was wrong; so he opened his mouth very wide, boo-eld and briol, on all occasions. And not content with this he made the poor o's do double duty; he said a point of water, a poin tree, and the spoile of a cask. Immeasurable was the laughter his froid cutlet produced; if he had stuck to his bile and brile no one would have laughed at him. I knew a beau in Maryland who told me a story of a man, who in early life pronounced the word 'girl' gal. After he lost his first wife, he learned to say 'girl;' and after the death of his second wife he improved on this pronunciation by saying 'gurl.'” "Why, Orrah, I say gurl." "Well, it it not affectation in you, Beninah, you were taught to say so, and I say girl, and I think I am right, for I do not know how you will make girl spell gurl." "I thought," said he, "heroism was usually the result of deliberation; this was done from the impulse of the moment." "I do not understand your distinction, and when I write the memoirs of Mr. Donhoven, I shall put it down heroism in the first degree." Donhoven bowed as Beninah thought no other gentleman could bow, and said, "I shall be fortanate in having so able a chronologer as the good Griffith."" She Orrah was pained to see how much pleasure Beninah took in the Society of Donhoven, though this pleasure was always shaded by melancholy. She determined every hour in the day to mention the subject to her, and yet she deferred it. had so often seen her the prey to gloom and despondency since her father's death and her ill-timed marriage, that she feared to awaken her from this delusive dream. Several days after the adventure of the carriage, Donhoven came one evening with some new masic he played much with Beninah on the flute : he staid later than usual. Just before he took leave, Orrah observed him take out his pencil and write on the cover of a music-book. When he was gone she took up the book and read them "Forgive the crime-too late I stayed- For noiseless falls the foot of time, That only treads on flowers." "You do not, Orrah, take these lines to be original." 66 "Do you admire the writings of Dr. Rush?" "Very much, I even read his account of the yellow fever of '93 with great interest, a book you might perhaps think rather out of my line. My Oh, no, I know they are not; but they will anintercourse with the Doctor was principally as pa-swer my purpose quite as well as if they were, as tient and physician; in this character he was so kind and attentive, that I soon began to believe my self the exclusive object of his care, a wonderful delusion, but still a pleasing one to the distempered fancy of a half deranged invalid." they will be the means of introducing a subject which has been of late one of some anxiety to me. You will pardon what I am going to say, but I think it is due to yourself and to the high-minded Megilvery, that you write and accept his relinquishment, or discontinue your intercourse with this too fascinating stranger." "I do not know how I could well do this; for until the present occasion, he has done nothing Megilvery could disapprove were he here." Several circumstances served to increase Beninah's admiration of Mr. Donhoven; he often met her French teacher at Clermont House; he conversed in that language with so much ease that Orrah began to think he must be a Frenchman; but the German piano tuner thought he must be a German, My dear Beninah, is not this equivocal! I beas he spoke that language with equal fluency. lieve he is acquainted with your peculiar situation One evening he walked with the ladies to see a fine as it regards Megilvery, and you know not what 66 this may be a prelude to. But I do not urge, or even advise you to give up this agreeable acquaintance; but I am firmly of opinion you ought to do one or the other crush at once either the hopes of Donhoven or Megilvery." "Orrah, I have ever considered the bonds which unite me to Megilvery sacred-and I have made them more so by rejecting his generous offer:-it would be cruel and unjust to abandon him, and I cannot do it: I will go where duty calls;-1 will go to New York and write to him to meet me there. Will you go with me?" The next morning she wrote to Megilvery, and she then determined she would not see Donhoven again. At five in the afternoon he called. Beninah rung the bell to which Jasper always answered. She bade him take the letter to Mr. Donhoven, and say to him she hoped he would excuse her, as she was busily engaged preparing for her trip. Jasper returned and said Mr. Donhoven only asked for a few moments' conversation on particular business. Great was the astonishment of Beninah, but there was no retreat. After bathing her face to hide the traces of tears this last act of self-denial had cost her, she went down stairs. When she entered the room, Donhoven, contrary to his usual habit, kept his seat. She approached the sofa, and was going to take one by him, when she observed her own letter broken open and in his hand; the blood rushed to her face, and she said, "Mr. Donhoven, why have you done this? Why have you presumed to break the seal of a letter to my husband?" Donhoven rose from his seat, took both her cold trembling hands in his, and said, “ for the best of all possible reasons-the letter was directed to me. I am that husband, and however strange or wonderful you may think it, I am no other than John Donhoven Megilvery." The blood fled from Beninah's cheeks. She stood mute and motionless with her eyes fixed on the speaker-like one who walks in sleep, "Pale as moonlight on a marble statue." But despair will animate even the most timid heart; her voice was made steady by the intensity of her feelings; she said, "you are not, you cannot be Megilvery." He drew a miniature from his bosom and said, " do you know this picture?" Mrs. Dorsay had a small country house about a mile from the city ;--she told Beninah she would have to go there to make some arrangements for her departure for New York. For the first time in her life Beninah willingly parted with her friend. She wished to be alone, to weep unobserved, and to reason herself into a better frame of mind. She was conscious that every day her feelings had become more and more enlisted in favor of Donhoven. She would have adopted this plan sooner, but she wanted the firmness to act unprompted. She did not believe with Orrah, that Donhoven en- "It is the picture of your mother," and she sunk tertained any partiality for her; but it was her own overpowered on the sofa. "Oh! why did you not heart she feared. Music, books, or work afforded come as Megilvery-why have you tortured me no relief. Surely, thought she, when I have taken almost beyond the power of endurance? unkind, this irrevocable step, the consciousness of being ungenerous Megilvery-and I will add ungrateful in the path of duty will impart some comfort. As she anticipated, Donhoven called that evening; the conversation was supported with great difficulty on her part, at length she told him Mrs. Dorsay and herself intended going in the course of a few days. "I shall write to Mr. Megilvery to meet me there. Have you any commands for him ?" "None," replied Donhoven. "I have been for sometime intending to write to my agent, and if you will allow me the pleasure, I will enclose your letter in my package, in case Mr. Megilvery should not be at Quebec." "If so," said Beninah, "he can forward my let ter; I am much obliged to you, and I will write to-morrow." "And I will call at five for your letter." Donhoven took an early leave, and went, much to Beninah's relief and surprise, without asking her to sing. Megilvery." "But, dearest Beninah, recall those cruel words, and in mercy listen to the witness before you condemn the criminal. I knew I was not regarded with affection by you;-I too well knew I had done nothing to deserve it. I did not know the strength of the prejudice that might still exist against me, and even you, Beninah, would have been valueless without a heart. Under these circumstances, I came to try if, in the character of Donhoven, I could, by exerting all my powers, win the treasure the folly and madness of Megilvery had lost. Tell me, dear Beninah, if I have succeeded?" Beninah, whose heart had been long torn by conflicting emotions, and whose feelings for the last half hour had been suppressed by a strong effort, now lost all command of herself and burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears. Megilvery, who was at present a man of firm ness and resolve-not the wasted victim of disease and melancholy-paused a moment, and then said, in a firm voice, "Beninah, an action similar to this SOME SCENES IN THE LIFE OF A FASTIDIOUS MAN, has been the prelude to many days of misery to me: tell me, am I doomed to a repetition of them? I am prepared to meet my fate whatever that may be--anything that awaits me now-anything I may hereafter be called on to suffer, will be peace compared to the remorse, the repentance, the horror and despair that marked the first days of my married life. Speak, dearest Beninah, I implore you.' She uncovered her face, bedewed with tears, and said, "my feelings and duties were then at variance, they are so no longer." LINES. "I love thee as the good love heaven."-Festus. I love thee as the blessed do I love thee as the twilight does I love thee as the muser does The music heard in dreams. I love thee as the flowers do The Summer dews that fall; I love thee as Spring blossoms love I love thee as the thirsty earth Does the gently falling shower; I love thee as the waters do K. "Il n'y a point d'homme qui n'ait son foible." CHAPTER III. "Wherein Captain Pringle tells how he became disgusted with Men, Women and Children. I had just returned from Europe. My father's health had become much enfeebled during my absence; and to a disposition naturally imperious and irascible, the irritation of disease added but little amenity. He hailed my return, however, on two accounts; first, because I was his son, and secondly, because he required a sensible object over which to tyrannize, for the great passiveness of my only brother's disposition gave him no satisfactory assurance of the efficacy wherewith he launched his thunder-bolts. I was but little of a woolsack. Unfortunately for my interests, I had inherited much of my father's temperament—the chief legacy-and his blows would often rebound off me in such a way as to put him to his alertness. I can speak of him as he was, and with due historic impartiality; for he was careful never to seduce me into posthumous eulogy of him, by any extraordinary exhibition of kindness to me during his life. "You are now, Edward, about five-and-twenty years of age," said he to me one evening. "It is high time you were established in life, and as I have, at the utmost, but a short period to live, my chief desire is to see you properly married." "Married!" echoed I with surprise. "It would be more becoming in you to receive such annunciation with less emotion." “Considering it to be of so trifling an import," responded I with unfilial irony. "And considering also," he retorted with calm sternness, "that, trifling or important, it is my custom to be obeyed. You must make up your mind, sir, to marry immediately." Immediately!" I echoed with a rebellious look. "This, then," continued I sarcastically, "I presume is to be the Comedy of Matrimony' with the principal character omitted! Would it now be any violation of the parental charter to pause a little, just for the purpose of inquiring whether I am in all respects prepared to consent to be married 'immediately?" "By Jove, sir, you are bold! With what a tone and look you king it, too! I suspect, sir, your fort might be found to consist in a graver department of the drama; but take care lest you are brought to enact the Tragedy of the Ingrate,' wherein the principal character exemplifies the consequences of filial disobedience. You have travelled to little purpose, sir, or you would have learned how matrimonial matters are conducted in France." "I prefer the matrimonial code of my own country," I answered as respectfully as I could, though very much perplexed," and I am sensible that if French parents consulted the inclinations of their children, that country might boast of more loyal husbands and wives." Well, sir," he resumed after a pause, "to come to the subject. You will be ready to accompany I intend to visit my Bulrush plantation, and as he lives on the adjacent estate❞— me to-morrow. Who is he?" Her father!" "Whose father?" "Miss Sophronia Gaby's; you are over fond of interrogating, sir: but you are answered now. You must act in this matter as I desire you; for if you show any refractoriness, I'll disinherit you!” Although I had but little personal acquaintance with Miss Sophronia Gaby, I knew my father well, and trembled at what was to come. "She is a most estimable young lady, sir," he continued, approaching the door, " a young lady, sir, the charms of whose person are only equalled by the graces of her understanding," and he quitted the apartment. "What manner of girl is this Miss Sophronia Gaby?" I said to my brother, after disclosing to him that night the scene just described. "Are you acquainted with her?" though a remarkably handsome fellow, he might, I feared, like most young gentlemen in love, never dream of such a thing as disappointment. "I never asked her yet," was the reply. "I am going there to-morrow," I remarked after a pause, and rising to leave him. "But," he asked with a most anxious look and detaining me by the hand, how can you avoid yielding to father's request-to his commandwithout sacrificing all your prospects of happiness?" "I shall think of that; meantime, have no misgiving on my account." After surveying the Bulrush estate the following day in company with my father, we rode to Hummingbird Hall--your retired merchants are apt to give finical names to things-where I was introduced to Mr. Gulliver Gaby. He impressed me unfavorably at once. I wondered why my father, who was a thorough-bred gentleman, had ever come to like him. His manner was artificial. It strangely combined a love of ostentation with suppleness of character. He stood in awe of my father, and consequently must have secretly disliked him, though his smirking obeisance,-the usual attendant on habitual insincerity.--rendered this dislike invisible to a less acute observer than myself. Notwithstanding his great wealth and great pretensions, I soon discovered that Mr. Gaby essentially belonged to the grosser class. "Not a green grocer, was he?" said I, punning in my absent way. "Excuse me, Captain Pringle,” I added, on discovering his offended look, "I "I am, that is, slightly," he answered in his un- really did not mean to offend you." decided manner. 66 After tea at Hummingbird Hall," resumed the "The father is a retired merchant, I think, and military gentleman, after receiving my apology, is reputed wealthy ?" "Very," he absently responded. 66 "Has she any loveable qualities ?" "O, you cannot help loving her," answered my brother shuddering and burying his face in his bands. "What!" I mentally exclaimed, "sits the wind in that quarter? You love this girl, then ?" said I alood; but he wept and spoke not. I was pained at witnessing this unmanly exhibition of weakness; but poor James! the pith of his character had never matured. It had been blighted in his boyhood, by the annihilating tyranny of a Jesuits' college where he had been educated. "Take courage, my dear James," I said, taking his hand in mine. "For although I should be disinherited a thousand times, your happiness shall never be marred by act of mine." "I hinted to my father my preference for passing the night with the Gabys, an intimation which he very gladly received. "That's right, my lad," he observed significantly while squeezing my hand, "Fervor is the most fitting aspect for such occasions. I shall bring old Gulliver home with me to-night in your place, so that-you understand, you dog, eh?" and the old gentleman departed in high glee. Miss Sophronia Gaby was not handsome. She was tall, however, and erect, with a very demure aspect and although her countenance was not intellectual, there was about it a tranquil air approaching to serenity, that was far from unattractive. For one of her age-she seemed not over eighteen--there was little of the mauvaise honte, while she was equally free from that careless confidence so unpleasant to the eye of the critical of our sex. She was becomingly attired, and the few God bless you, Edward!" was all he could say. "But does she love you?" I inquired, now inter-ornaments she paraded were not misplaced, exceptested altogether on his account. ing--execrable taste!-the jewelry on her fingers. "I--I--think she does," replied he blushingly. The exterior part of the temple," thought I, "is "Hem! But she never confessed so much?" I not very exceptionable; though I could wish the said with some apprehension on his account; for hand and foot on a more diminutive scale, the bust 66 of greater diameter, and the complexion of a less there, save a newspaper headed "The Evangelical cold expression. "You have grown so tall since I went abroad that really, Miss Gaby, I had some difficulty in recognizing you to-day," I observed preliminarily. "Yes, sir," she passively replied. Trumpet." "Why," thought I, "this is downright inanity! inexplicable idiocy! Her mind is in primitive blankness-she is but a breathing vegetable! My father "You perceive then that my memory is any is mad; and so is my brother!" But just at that thing but complimentary." "Yes, sir," with the same immobility of look. Egad! thinks I, she is candid at all events; but I'll try again "I fear you are subjecting yourself " but I was seized with a fit of coughing and had to break off for a moment. Yes, sir," she interposed. moment, footsteps approached, and an uncouth looking, gangling, grotesquely-garbed figure, about seven feet high, entered, and after cordially shaking hands with Sophronia Gaby, was introduced to me as Mr. Gabriel Guffaw. He was a freckled, flap-eared, shock-headed monster, while his cavernous mouth displayed, at every word addressed to him, two formidable rows of vandyked teeth. His 3.66 to unpleasant penance here in the coun-hands, though large and red, and as horney as the try, for the happier hours you have passed in the city," finishing my sentence, somewhat surprised at her premature affirmative. "Ye-a-no, sir." "Very odd," thought I. "She deems my remarks too frivolous, doubtless, for more lengthened responses," and reflecting on the great wisdom attributed in all ages to a paucity of words, I began to look on Miss Sophronia as a second Minerva. "The rural Damons of this neighborhood, I fear, are but clumsy worshippers compared to the graceful idolaters who crowded your temple in the city," said I in a Louis-the-fourteenth style of compliment. "If she were Pallas herself," thought I," that must inspire her with words." "No, sir,” replied she with a cold stare, as if she began to think me a little insane. I confess I was growing embarrassed. Hem! she is a capital listener. The "charms of her understanding indeed," I mentally repeated, recalling my father's eulogy of her. My father, like all great talkers, judges incorrectly of character, and considers attentive listening unequivocal evidence of superior intellect; and a good listener must answer to the Duc de Sully's definition of a statesman, viz. "there must be little feeling and no passions." Miss Sophronia may probably be as profound as the Pacific, yet must I find soundings somewhere; so, here goes for another heave of the lead. hoof of a mule, displayed two costly rings-one on each little finger; his coat, though of superfine texture, was of a nondescript cut, while his pants, which fitted with natural tightness to limbs that were lean and knock-kneed, revealed all the native proportions of feet that were intended for the seven-league boots. A new light seemed to dawn on Miss Gaby. She who retailed to me cold and misplaced monosyllables, became sociable, even cordial, with this Goth. The latter, I saw at a glance, was my brother's competitor, and would be mine if I dared. I felt as many others have felt, who when they perceive admitted to an equality with them persons whom they thoroughly contemn, retire from the contest in disgust. I arose and taking a seat near the table, became apparently merged in the "Evangelical Trumpet." "And what a funny coat he has on him!" struck on my ear, followed by very decided laughter from the demi-savage and a titter from her. I looked up and frowned at him. He, the clothes-horse, was presuming to ridicule my dress-my coat, which was the master piece of the immortal Gizzerman, of London! And she was enjoying his wit! My frown, however, soon quelled their mirth; but a fourth party appeared in the scene. A tall, rather good looking fellow of about five or six and twenty entered, advanced without looking to the right or left, and clasping Sophronia in his arms, impressed a kiss on her willing lips! "Good heavens!" I inwardly exclaimed, "Do I dream, or behold all this with open eyes?" Bat judge of my astonishment, when Sophronia presented the insulting barbarian to me as her brother, Mr. Gregory Gaby! "But a taste for reading-a fondness for com- "Brother!" echoed I, with undisguised disgust, muning with the great intellects of the past and as I haughtily touched his proffered hand with the present through the medium of books, must more end of my finger. "I should have said you were than atone to you for the absence of the frivolities an accepted lover at least, to judge from your af of the gayer world," and I looked toward the cen- fectionate demonstrations." This, although I intre-table with the expectation of seeing at least a tended it as a rebuke to his ill-timed indecency, copy of Thomas a Kempis, or Zimmerman on So-was received with boisterous merriment. Now litude; but there was nothing ostensibly literary nineteen out of every twenty can allege no suffi |