from which we have been hitherto removed at an immeasurable distance. Often the information thus gained is desultory and uninteresting, and it passes away from our mind almost as soon as we receive it; occasionally it strikes upon some connecting chord, and we eagerly listen, and respond to it. proof of his poetical abilities. It might seem astonishing that Talbot should so freely have acquiesced in this usurpation; but Emma's letter threw light on the subject, by alluding to Talbot's nervous horror of failure, and Adelaide's quick apprehension soon enabled her to see the real state of the case, and to become sorrowfully convinced that Captain Nesbitt was not the only one of her "wooers" who had shown himself regardless of the sacred laws of truth. When Adelaide Linley left school, she had, like most young girls, a favourite friend, with whom she kept up a regular correspondence, at the rate of three sheets of rose-coloured note- Reluctantly, but steadily, did the young paper a week. Emma Penryn, however, lived heiress prepare herself to act as she considered in Cornwall; and as year after year passed by, for the best under the circumstances. She and the friends never met, the correspondence wrote to Talbot and to Stratford, requesting decidedly slackened. Still, however, it was that they would each wait upon her at the same never wholly given up, and Adelaide had written time on the following day. Neither of them to her friend shortly after the introduction of suspected the reason of this summons; Talbot Talbot and Stratford to her, mentioning their had indeed almost forgotten the existence of the names, and speaking of them as likely to prove silly, good-natured Trebeck: he had read the pleasant and desirable acquaintance. The day "Russian Brothers" to him, because, like most after Adelaide's interview with Stratford, a letter writers, he felt the wish, immediately after comarrived for her from Emma Penryn. She apopleting a work, to obtain a hearer for it; and logised for her long silence, and gave an excel- because, like some writers, he had a great deal lent reason for it; she had been receiving the of vanity, and had been flattered by the deferenaddresses of a very desirable admirer, who had tial admiration of a man much inferior to him, at length proposed, and been accepted; he was and from whom he need not fear any distasteful a Cornish man, and his property lay within a criticism. Talbot knew Trebeck to be perfectly few miles of that of her father. After entering honourable, and if he had ever thought of him into numerous details regarding the carriage, the at all, he would have remembered the promise trousseau, and the marriage settlement (young of secrecy he had exacted from him, and would ladies in the nineteenth century are very apt to have felt quite at ease. It never entered his talk and write about the marriage settlement), mind that circumstances might happen which the bride-elect continued: would induce Trebeck to consider himself ab"I am quite sure you will hear an excellent solved from his promise, and that, as the character of my dear Trebeck, if you mention "Russian Brothers" had been published withhis name to Mr. Talbot; only think of their out a name, it was perfectly natural and probeing great friends; indeed Mr. Talbot washable that the Cornish squire might be ignorant quite confidential with Trebeck a year ago, when staying with him in the country-house of a mutual friend, and actually was so kind as to read to him the beautiful tragedy of the Russian Brothers,' to which he had just put the finishing stroke. Mr. Talbot did not let any one else know a word about it, and in fact extracted a promise of the strictest secrecy from Trebeck; the reason was, that he meant to produce the tragedy on the stage, and had a terrible nervous fear of failure, a fear which was unfortunately realized by the event; I suppose because it was too good for the audience to understand. Trebeck kept the secret most admirably, never breathing a word of it even to me, till the brilliant success of the published play of course took off the embargo of silence, and now we tell it to everybody; and Trebeck, I assure you, is not a little proud of the confidence reposed in him by his literary friend.” Adelaide read this part of the letter with incredulous surprise, imagining that Emma was under some misapprehension; but when she came to reflect on past events, she could not but see that it was very likely to be true; she had several times been much struck with the inconsistency of Stratford's conversation and his reputed literary talents, and had felt surprised that he should so invariably have resisted all persuasion, even from herself, to give any further that the London world of letters imputed the authorship of it to Stratford, and not to Talbot. The rivals were punctual to their appointment, anticipating nothing more important than that they should be invited to join a party to a flowershow or the opera-house. Adelaide did not keep them in suspense, but said that she wished to read to them part of a letter which she had recently received. When she had finished, she told them that she had considered it right to make them acquainted with this statement, and asked if they had anything to say in refutation of it. They looked confused, and were silent. Stratford was the first to speak. "Forgive me for my seeming assumption of talents not my own," he said; "and remember that my motive was to save a friend from the mortification of acknowledging a defeat.” "I cannot conceive that such was your only motive," replied Adelaide: "you evidently took pride and pleasure in your new character. Did you attempt to suspend the publication of the drama? Did you shrink from the distinctions that followed it? No: you courted popularity, and enjoyed it, knowing all the time that you had done nothing to merit it, and that the whole of the applause that you received was in reality the right of your friend!" Adelaide's words sounded a knell to the hopes of Stratford, but they seemed "merry as a mar riage-bell" to the eager ears of Talbot. "Dearest Adelaide," he said, "how kindly, how gratifyingly do you speak of my talents! They are entirely dedicated to you: all the laurels that they may hereafter gain for me shall be laid at your feet!" always professed herself ready to rusticate as soon as the roses were in bloom. Three days after her interview with Talbot and Stratford, she removed from the bustle of London to a region of flowers, green trees, and singingbirds. The former friends-now, alas! friends no longer-travelled abroad. They had each studiously contrived to depart on a different day, and to visit a different point of the continent; but they happened accidentally to meet on a mountain in Switzerland. They passed each other merely with the remarks that "the scenery was very grand," and that "the panorama of the Lake of Thun, at the Colosseum, had given one a capital idea of it!" "Do not trouble yourself to be so very grateful, Mr. Talbot," replied Adelaide. "You will be little obliged to me when you have listened to all that I have to say to you. Your talents are undoubtedly great, but I do not consider that vividness of imagination and elegance of composition constitute a man of really fine mind, any more than a suit of regimentals and an acquaintance with military tactics constitute a brave soldier. I may continue the parallel. Stratford returned to London in January: You entered the field of battle by your own choice, Captain Nesbitt was the first person of his acknowing that it was possible you might meet quaintance whom he encountered. Now Capwith defeat. Your first defeat came, and what tain Nesbitt possessed an infallible characteristic was the course you pursued? Did you resolve of a narrow-minded, mean-spirited man: he to try again with added vigour? No, you de- never forgave a woman who had refused him, termined to conceal that you had tried at all; and never omitted an opportunity of speaking ill you deserted the noble ranks to which you be- of her. After having anathematized Adelaide longed, to sink into the mass of common-place and her coquetries for some time, he proceeded: beings; and should your conduct ever become ge-" Her marriage, however, will shortly take place, nerally known, rely upon it that all literary men who sit in judgment upon you will unanimously sentence you to be cashiered for cowardice!" Stratford breathed a little more freely during this speech it was a great relief to his feelings to hear his friend so severely reproved. "I will not," pursued Adelaide, " dwell upon the offence that you have mutually committed in departing from the straight, clear, and beautiful path of truth: you well know my opinion on the subject. I could never feel happy in a near connexion, or even in an intimate friendship, with any one who did not know and revere truth as I have always done. I shall probably occasionally meet again with both of you, but we must meet hereafter only on the footing of common acquaintance." The disconcerted "wooers," now no longer rivals, took a speedy departure: they exchanged a few sentences on their way, in which there was much more of recrimination than of condolence, and then coldly separated. Their friendship had long been at an end, and in the midst of all their recent mortifications, each felt consoled at the thought that he was not compelled to cede-Adelaide to the other! It was easy for Adelaide to avoid future intimacy with her two rejected lovers, without causing any remark among her circle of acquaintance. and it is, I think, a fitting conclusion to her airs and graces. Perhaps, as you have only just ar rived in England, you are not aware that she is engaged to her guardian's clerk?" "To Alton!" exclaimed Stratford-" to that quiet, dull young man! Impossible! She used to ridicule his unsocial habits, and also was very severe on his propensity for hoarding money." 66 However that might be," replied Captain Nesbitt, "he has proved himself not too dull to devise and succeed in an admirable matrimonial speculation: and as for his system of hoarding, perhaps the fair Adelaide, although she objected to it in an indifferent person, may not disapprove of it in a husband. Heiresses are always terribly afraid of marrying men who are likely to dissipate their money.' "When is the marriage to take place?" asked Stratford, with affected carelessness. "I believe in a few weeks," said Captain Nesbitt-" that is, if nothing should happen to prevent it. I think I could set it aside at once, if I took interest enough in Adelaide to make it worth my while to do so. I could communicate to her something respecting Alton which would decidedly lower him in her opinion." "Indeed!" exclaimed Stratford, eagerly. "Has Alton, then, been guilty of any deviation from the truth ?” It was now nearly the end of June; Mr. Poor Stratford!" He that is giddy thinks the Grayson was quite a man of the old school: he world turns round;" and he had no idea that a did not stay in London till the middle of Au-lover could offend in any other way than by degust, and then repair to Kissengen or Inter-viating from the truth. lachen. He had a pretty country-house a few miles from London, and always removed to it at Midsummer. Mrs. Grayson, who enjoyed nothing so much as her flower-garden, was delighted to escape from the brown dusty trees of a London square: and Adelaide, although she liked public amusements, liked them as soberly Lady Grace in the "Provoked Husband," and 66 as "I do not know that Alton has told any untruth," said Captain Nesbitt ; but I have reason to think that he has kept back the truth." "That may do quite as well," thought Stratford, when one has to deal with so scrupulous a person as Adelaide;" and he requested Captain Nesbitt to explain himself. "Alton's father," said Captain Nesbitt, "did not resemble the father in an old song of Alton (whom he is on the point of taking into O'Keefe's "Who, dying, bequeathed to his son a good name!" He was, like his son, a confidential clerk-not, however, to a solicitor, but to a Liverpool merchant. He repaid the confidence of his employer by embezzling sundry sums of money, which he hazarded at the gaming-table. At length the frequency of his losses occasioned him to commit a more daring act than a breach of trust: he forged the name of the merchant to a banking-house cheque : discovery ensued, and he only escaped the punishment of the law by committing suicide. This event happened five years ago, and is fresh in the remembrance of many persons in Liverpool." But do you not think it likely that Alton may have revealed these facts to Adelaide ?" asked Stratford. "I do not think it in the least likely that he should have proved himself such a blockhead!" replied Captain Nesbitt. "Adelaide would never marry the son of a man who only escaped hanging by suicide!" They do not hang for forgery in these days!" said Stratford. "So much the worse," said Captain Nesbitt. "It is a crime that cannot be too severely punished. I remember hearing that many years ago a man was hanged for forging the ace of spades: I wish those good old times would come back again." Stratford was silent; not all his pique, nor all his jealousy, could induce him to think that it would be desirable for the times to come back again, when a man was hanged for forging the ace of spades! The next day Stratford called at Mr. Grayson's, and found Adelaide alone in the drawingroom. She looked a little surprised at seeing him, but received him as she would have done a common acquaintance. Stratford congratulated her on her future prospects, and uttered some forced commendations on the excellence of Alton's character. "He affords a convincing proof," he said, with a little trepidation, "that the son of an unworthy father need not necessarily tread in his steps." 66 There are so many similar instances of that fact," said Adelaide, "that I think there is nothing astonishing in them. The good or bad qualities of a father are not, like landed estates, entailed upon his son!" Then you do know," said Stratford, "that Alton's father was an unworthy man?" Adelaide looked at him with grave, earnest surprise. "You have chosen a strange subject of conversation," she said; "but I have no objection to satisfy your curiosity. I heard of the circumstance to which you allude from Alton himself." "I conclude," said Stratford, "that Mr. Grayson insisted on his being candid with you, previous to your engagement being concluded?" "You are quite in the wrong," returned Adelaide. "Mr. Grayson is much attached to partnership), and was very desirous that he should propose to me. He enjoined him to keep secret the melancholy circumstances connected with his father, as they could only tend to give me uneasiness; and it was quite certain that no one else would be so deficient in kind feeling as to mention them to me." Stratford felt rather embarrassed and uncomfortable as Adelaide uttered these words. "Alton's strict and honourable love of truth, however," pursued Adelaide, “led him to disregard this counsel; some weeks before he proposed to me he made known to me every particular of his father's transgression; and I assured him, in reply, that I did not consider him in the smallest degree lowered in excellence by having become good, conscientious, and truthful, without the aid of parental precept or example." Stratford was determined to discharge a parting arrow at the provoking heiress. "You have shown yourself extremely liberal in your opinions," he said; "and you have the very comforting reflection that, from Mr. Alton's known and remarkable habits of frugality, he is never likely to fall into the same snares that proved fatal to his father, but will distinguish himself rather by saving money than by squandering it." "As you appear," said Adelaide, "to speak in rather an ironical tone concerning Alton's economy, I think it due to him to enter into a short explanation of his motives. When Alton first paid me those marked attentions which I knew must lead to a proposal, I sometimes rallied him on his strict frugality, and sometimes gently reproved him for it: he was not only sparing to himself, but I felt grieved to remark that, although ever willing to devote time and thought to the poor, he rarely assisted them with money. He assured me that he had a reason for his conduct, and that he was certain that I should not blame him if I knew it. He added that the necessity for economy would soon cease, and that he should then have the pleasure of indulging his natural feelings of liberality. I was not satisfied with this reply: I required him to give a direct answer to a direct question, and to tell me what were his motives for saving, and why they should exist at one time more than another." It was very merciless of you," said Strat 'Not in the least," replied Adelaide. "Alton had given me such proofs of his truthful and honourable nature, that I knew, if he held back any communication from me, he could only do so because it was creditable to him, and because he wished to avoid the appearance of boasting of his own good deeds: and so it indeed proved to be. Alton had for five years been denying himself every enjoyment suitable to his age and tastes, for the purpose of saving the sum of money of which his father had defrauded his employer. When he first began this undertaking, it seemed likely to prove a very tedious one; but two years ago he happily received a legacy from a relation, which more than half realized the amount that he required; still, however, he did not slacken in his laudable energy, and shortly after the conversation to which I have alluded, he was enabled to pay over the whole sum, with the accumulated interest, to the Liverpool merchant, who sent him a letter full of the kindest expressions of approbation, concluding with the assurance that he should make his noble act of atonement generally known among all his friends. Therefore by this time every one who has censured the faults and frailties of the father, is engaged in lauding the honour and honesty of the son." Stratford had heard quite enough; he took a hasty leave, sincerely repenting that he had ever thought of troubling the bride-elect with a morning call. Alton and Adelaide were married in the course of a few weeks; two years have elapsed since that time, and I am of opinion that the unusual happiness they enjoy is greatly to be attributed to the truthfulness which is the decided characteristic of both of them. I am aware that many of my readers will say that it is of little importance whether a married couple, whose interests necessarily bind them together, should mutually love truth, or mutually agree in sanctioning the thousand-and-one little falsities of worldly expediency; but I think that those who hold such an opinion cannot have had many opportunities of closely observing the domestic circles of their friends and neighbours. Had they done so, they would have been aware that the beginning of matrimonial unhappiness repeatedly arises from the detection by one party of some slight violation of truth on the part of the other. Often such a violation is committed with no ill intent; nay, often indeed is it done with the kind motive of sparing some little trouble or anxiety to the beloved one. A trifling trouble is concealed, a small expense kept in the background, the visit of an intrusive guest unmentioned, or a letter read aloud with the omission of a short part of it, which might be supposed to be unpleasant to the listener. These concealments and misrepresentations, in themselves so seemingly slight, become of terrific account when frequently repeated; confidence is shaken, and when once that is the case, conjugal happiness is soon at an end. Adelaide and her husband are on the most confidential terms, because neither of them ever thinks whether a true remark or communication is agreeable or not: they speak it because it is the truth; and if a moment's pain be thus given, the passing cloud breaks almost as soon as it is perceived; no tempests are suffered to gather in the distance, and the heiress constantly congratulates herself that she chose not the handsomest, the cleverest, or the most fashionable, but the most truthful of her " wooers." Of these wooers I have but little to say. Captain Nesbitt is on the point of marriage with a middle-aged widow of good fortune; he was successful in impressing her with the belief that he must ultimately inherit his uncle's property; but she was more cautious than ladies of fewer years and less experience might have been, and made so many inquiries about the state of health of the old gentleman, that his nephew was obliged to improvise an apoplectic fit for him! This intelligence caused the widow to fix the day, but she is providing a very limited trousseau, since she anticipates the " melancholy pleasure" of giving large orders in the course of a few weeks at one of the "Mansions of Grief" in Regent-street! Talbot and Stratford seldom meet; indeed, if one becomes introduced into a family, the other almost invariably ceases to visit there. However, there are two points in which they show great sympathy and congeniality of mind. They par ticularly dislike to hear of the failure of a new piece at the theatre; and there is no work for which they feel such unmitigated detestation, as one which still engrosses much of the public notice the tragedy of the "Russian Brothers!" MY CHILDREN. BY MRS. W. P. O'NEILL. My children! what a wealth of love Thy merry step, my gleesome girl, Thy wordless voice, my boyHow come they on this thrilling ear With such a gush of joy! There's many a fair and gladsome child Full fair and glad as thine, Fond, partial heart. The heart replies66 But, ah! they are not mine!" Mine-inine! oh, precious words, and full Of might and mystery! My child has beauty in my sight No other eye can see! My child's soft arms about my neck- Can melt me save mine own! Oh, blessings on my dark-eyed girl With flowing locks and bright; Oh, blessings on my blue-ey'd boyA cherub in my sight! Take-take them in Thy tender care Before I ever clasp'd their forms I ask'd Thy blessing for them, Lord!— I ask'd not wealth, nor place, nor fame For my immortal flowers I ask'd Thy grace-and with that boon I fear not future hours! SAD THINGS. BY ANNE A. FREMONT. I've walk'd the earth with feet that trod It with a thankful fond delight; I ever lov'd its fresh green sod Its sky so beautiful and brightIts changing sky, whate'er its mood, Star-gemin'd or sunny as might be; Or, if dark clouds did o'er it brood, 'Twas still the veil of heaven to me. I hope I've never turn'd aside, With light and flowers our path may be, Dark spots and weeds will meet us there, To show how strong is misery. And as we tread this wondrous road That leads us to a brighter sphere, How oft will trouble's heavy load Make the fair pathway hard and drear! Though our own hearts may gladly beat To pleasure's strain, in those around We oft shall throbs of anguish meet, To pain us with their harsher sound. To see a step that should be light And young hearts drooping 'neath the blight That full of pure clear light should be; And good dwarfed by the harsh control Of demon-vice and misery; And warm hearts that, like glad waves, beat Nor heed their dying murmur's sound; Oh, surely these are mournful sights, This world is not our resting-place. THE DIFFICULTY OF EXCELLENCE.-It is certain that if every one could early enough be made to feel how full the world is already of excellence, and how much must be done to produce anything worthy of being placed beside what has already been produced-of a hundred youths who are now poetizing, scarcely one would feel enough courage, perseverance, and talent, to work quietly for the Many young attainment of a similar mastery. painters would never have taken their pencils in hand, if they could have felt, known, and understood, early enough, what really produced a master like Raphael,-Goëthe. |