I question if the baron would forgive me; for baron. The recognition was mutual. I sh¬ll he was of Alsace, and, though he called him- never forget the start he gave when in the self French, had German blood and quarter-middle of the first cotillon, he espied the ings, and pride enough for a prince of the em- little girl whom he had been used to see at pire. He was a fine-looking man of fifty, tall, the corner of the supper-table in Brunswickupright, and active, and still giving tokens of square, every Saturday evening. He coloured having been in his youth one of the handsomest with shame and anger, his hand trembled, and figures and best dancers at Versailles. He his voice faltered; but as he would not know ! was the least gay of the party, perhaps the me, I had the discretion not to appear to know least happy for his pride kept him in a state him, and said nothing of the affair til! I again of prickly defiance against all mankind. He visited my kind cousin. I never saw any one had the miserable jealousy of poverty, of one more affected than she was on hearing my **fallen from his high estate," suspected story. That this cold, proud, haughty man, insults where they were never dreamed of, and to whom any thing that savoured of humili sifted civility, to see whether an affront, a tion seemed terrible, should so far abase his lurking snake, might be concealed beneath the nobility for Angelique and independence, was roses. The smallest and most authorized pre- wonderful! She could not refrain from tellsent, even fruit and game, were peremptorily ing her husband, but the secret was carefully rejected; and, if he accepted the Saturday- guarded from every one besides; and, except evening's invitation, it was evidently because that they showed him an involuntary increase he could not find in his heart to refuse a plea of respect, and that I could not help drawing sure to his daughter. Angelique was, indeed, myself up and sitting rather more upright a charming creature, fair, blooming, modest than ordinary when he happened to lock at and gentle, far more English than French in me, nothing indicated any suspicion of the person, manner, and dress, doting on her father, circumstance. soothing his little infirmities of temper, and In the mean time the fair Angelique, who ministering in every way to his comfort and was treated with the customary disregard happiness. Never did a father and a daughter shown to unmarried beauties by her countrylove each other better; and that is saying men, (whose devoirs the old duchess, the much. He repaid her care and affection with crooked ambassadress, and the squinting the most unbounded fondness, and a liberality countess, entirely engrossed,) was gradually that had no limit but his power. Mademoi- making an English conquest of no small imselle de G. was the best dressed, best lodged, portance. The eldest son of a rich merchant," and best-attended of any lady of the circle. who had been connected with our host in The only wonder was how the baron could several successful speculations, and was erafford it. Every one else had some visible ceedingly intimate with the family, begged to resource, of which they were so little ashamed be admitted to the Saturday evening coterie. that it was as freely communicated as any His request was readily granted; he came at news of the day. We all knew that the am- first from curiosity, but that feeling was soon bassadress and her brother the marquis lived exchanged for a deeper and more tender pastogether on a small pension allotted to the lady sion; and at last he ventured to disclose his by a foreign court, in reward of certain imputed love, first to the lady of his heart, and then services rendered to the Bourbons by her hus- to their mutual friend. Neither frowned on band; that the count taught French, Latin, the intelligence, although both apprehended and Italian; that the abbé contrived in some some difficulties. How would the baron look way or other to make his projects keep him; on a man who could hardly trace his ancestors and that the pretty wife of the chevalier, more farther back than his grandfather! And how learned in bonnets than in impromptus, kept a again would these rich citizens, equally preud very tasty and well-accustomed milliner's shop in a different way, relish an alliance with a somewhere in the region of Cranbourne-alley: man who, however highly descended, was but the baron's means of support continued as neither more or less than a dancing-master? much a puzzle as the ambassador's destination. But pride melts before love, like frost in the At last, chance let me into the secret. Our sunshine. All parties were good and kind, i English dancing-master waxed old and rich, all obstacles were overcome, and all faults and retired from the profession; and our worthy governess vaunted loudly of the French gentleman whom she had engaged as his suecessor, and of the reform that would be worked in the heads and heels of her pupils, grown heavy and lumpish under the late instructor. The new master arrived; and, whilst a boy who accompanied him was tuning his kit, and he himself paying his respects to the governess, I had no difficulty in discovering under, a common French name, my acquaintance the

forgotten. The rich merchant forgave the baron's poverty, and the baron (which was more difficult) forgave his wealth. The calling which had only been followed for Angelique's sake, was for her sake abandoned; the fond father consented to reside with her; and surrounded by her lovely family, freed from poverty and its distressing conscioustees, and from all the evils of false shame, he has long been one of the happiest, as he was always one of the best, of French emigrants.

THE INQUISITIVE GENTLEMAN.

a dark closet to keep him out of harm's way, chiefly moved thereto by his ripping open his own bed, to see what it was made of, and ONE of the most remarkable instances that throwing her best gown into the fire, to try if I know of that generally false theory "the silk would burn. Then he was sent to school, ruling passion," is my worthy friend Samuel | a preparatory school, and very soon sent home Lynx, Esq., of Lynx Hall in this county again for incorrigible mischief. Then a pricommonly called the Inquisitive Gentleman. vate tutor undertook to instruct him on the Never was cognomen better bestowed. Curi- interrogative system, which in his case was osity is, indeed, the master-principle of his obliged to be reversed, he asking the quesmind, the life-blood of his existence, the main- tions, and the tutor delivering the responsesspring of every movement. a new cast of the didactic drama. Then he went to college; then sallied forth to ask his way over Europe; then came back to fix on his paternal estate of Lynx Hall, where, except occasional short absences, he hath sojourned ever since, signalizing himself at every stage of existence, from childhood to youth, from youth to manhood, from manhood to age, by the most lively and persevering curiosity, and by no other quality under heaven.

Mr. Lynx is an old bachelor of large fortune and ancient family; the Lynxes of Lynx Hall, have amused themselves with overlooking their neighbours' doings for many generations. He is tall, but loses something of his height by a constant habit of stooping; he carries his head projecting before his body, -like one who has just proposed a question and is bending forward to receive an answer. A lady being asked, in his presence, what his features indicated, replied with equal truth and politeness-a most inquiring mind. The cock-up of the nose, which seems from the expansion and movement of the nostrils to be snuffing up intelligence, as a hound does the air of a dewy morning, when the scent lies well; the draw-down of the half-open mouth gaping for news; the erected chin; the wrinkled forehead; the little eager sparkling eyes, half shut, yet full of curious meanings; the strong red eye-brows, protruded like a cat's whiskers or a snail's horns, feelers, which actually seem sentient; every line and linea ment of that remarkable physiognomy betrays a craving for information. He is exceedingly short-sighted; and that defect also, although, on the first blush of the business, it might seem a disadvantage, conduces materially to the great purpose of his existence-the knowledge of other people's affairs. Sheltered by that infirmity, our "curious impertinent" can stare at things and persons through his glasses in a manner which even he would scarcely venture with bare eyes. He can peep and pry and feel and handle, with an effrontery never equalled by an unspectacled man. He can ask the name and parentage of every body in company, toss over every book, examine every note and card, pull the flowers from the vases, take the pictures from the walls, the embroidery from your work-box, and the shawl off your back; and all with the most provoking composure, and just as if he was doing the right thing.

The propensity seems to have been born with him. He pants after secrets, just as magpies thieve, and monkeys break china, by instinct. His nurse reports of him that he came peeping into the world; that his very cries were interrogative, and his experiments in physics so many and so dangerous, that before he was four years old, she was fain to tie his hands behind him, and to lock him into

If he had not been so entirely devoid of ambition, I think he might have attained to eminence in some smaller science, and have gained and received a name from a new moss, or an undiscovered butterfly. His keenness and sagacity would also have told well in antiquarian researches, particularly in any of the standing riddles of history, the Gowrie conspiracy, for instance, or the guilt of queen Mary, respecting which men may inquire and puzzle themselves from the first of January to the last of December without coming at all nearer to the solution. But he has no great pleasure in literature of any sort. Even the real parentage of the Waverley novels, although nothing in the shape of a question comes amiss to him, did not interest him quite so much as might be expected; perhaps because it was so generally interesting. He prefers the "Bye-ways to the High-ways" of literature.

The secrets of which every one talks, are hardly, in his mind, "Secrets worth knowing."

Besides, mere quiet guessing is not active enough for his stirring and searching faculty. He delights in the difficult, the inaccessible, the hidden, the obscure. A forbidden place is his paradise; a board announcing "steeltraps and spring guns" will draw him over a wall twelve feet high; he would undoubtedly have entered Blue-beard's closet, although certain to share the fate of his wives; and has had serious thoughts of visiting Constantinople, just to indulge his taste by stealing a glimpse of the secluded beauties of the seraglio-an adventure which would probably have had no very fortunate termination. Indeed our modern peeping Tom has encountered several mishaps at home in the course of his long search after knowledge; and has generally had the very great aggravation of being altogether unpitied. Once, as he was taking a morning ride, in trying to look over a wall

a little higher than his head, he raised him- | lives. There is a curious infelicity about him, self in the saddle, and the sagacious quadru- which carries him straight to the wrong point. ped, his grey pony, an animal of a most If there be such a thing as a sore subject, he accommodating and congenial spirit, having is sure to press on it, to question a parvenu on been, for that day, discarded in favour of a his pedigree, a condemned author on his trayounger, gayer, less inquisitive and less pa- gedy, an old maid on her age. Besides these tient steed, the new beast sprang on and left iniquities, his want of sympathy is so open him sprawling. Once, when in imitation of and undisguised, that the most loquacious Ranger, he had perched himself on the top- egotist loses the pleasure of talking of himmost round of a ladder, which he found self, in the evident absence of all feeling or placed beneath a window in Upper Berkeley- interest on the part of the hearer. His constreet, he lost his balance, and was pitched versation is always more like a judicial exsuddenly in through the sash, to the unspeak- amination than any species of social interable consternation of a house-maid, who was course, and often like the worst sort of examrubbing the panes within side. Once he was ination-cross-questioning. He demands, like tossed into an open carriage, full of ladies, as a secretary to the inquisition, and you answer he stood up to look at them from the box of a (for you must answer) like a prisoner on the stage-coach. And once he got a grievous rack. Then the man is so mischievous! he knock from a chimney-sweeper, as he poked rattles old china, marches over flower-beds, his head into the chimney to watch his ope- and paws Irling's lace. The people at murations. He has been blown up by a rocket; seums and exhibitions dread the sight of him. carried away in the strings of a balloon; all He cannot keep his hands from moths and but drowned in a diving-bell: lost a finger in humming-birds; and once poked up a rattlea mashing-mill; and broken a great toe by snake to discover whether the joints of the drawing a lead pin-cushion off a work-table. tail did actually produce the sound from which N. B. this last-mentioned exploit spoilt my it derives its name; by which attack that pugworthy old friend, Miss Sewaway, a beautiful nacious reptile was excited to such wrath that piece of fine netting, "worth,' as she em- two ladies fell into hysterics. He nearly dephatically remarked, "a thousand toes." molished the Invisible Girl by too rough an inquiry into her existence; and got turned out of the automaton chess-player's territories, in consequence of an assault which he committed on that ingenious piece of mechanism. To do Mr. Lynx justice, I must admit that he sometimes does a little good to all this harm. He has, by design or accident, in the ordinary exercise of his vocation, hindered two or three duels, prevented a good deal of poaching and pilfering, and even saved his own house, and the houses of his neighbours from divers burglaries; his vigilance being, at least, as useful, in that way, as a watchman or an alarm-bell.

These are only a few of the bodily mischiefs that have befallen poor Mr. Lynx. The moral scrapes, into which his unlucky propensity has brought him, are past all count. In his youth, although so little amorous, that I have reason to think, the formidable interrogatory which is emphatically called "popping the question," is actually the only question which he has never popped;-in his youth, he was very nearly drawn into wedlock by the sedulous attention which he paid to a young lady, whom he suspected of carrying on a clandestine correspondence. The mother scolded; the father stormed; the brother talked of satisfaction; and poor Mr. Lynx, who is as pacific as a Quaker, must certainly have been married, had not the fair nymph eloped to Gretna Green, the day before that appointed for the nuptials. So he got off for the fright. He hath undergone at least twenty challenges for different sorts of impertinences; hath had his ears boxed and his nose pulled; hath been knocked down and horsewhipped; all which casualties he bears with an exemplary patience. He hath been mistaken for a thief, a bailiff, and a spy, abroad and at home; and once, on the Sussex coast, was so inquisitive respecting the moon, and the tide, and the free trade, that he was taken at one and the same time, by the different parties, for a smuggler and a revenue officer, and narrowly escaped being shot in the one capacity, and hanged in the other.

The evils which he inflicts bear a tolerably fair proportion to those which he endures. He is, simply, the most disagreeable man that

A se

He makes but small use of his intelligence, however come by, which is, perhaps, occasioned by a distinctive difference of sex. A woman only half as curious would be prodigal of information-a spendthrift of news. Mr. Lynx hoards his, like a miser. Possession is his idol. If I knew any thing which I particularly wished the world not to know, I should certainly tell it to him at once. cret with him, is as safe as money in the bank; the only peril lies in the ardour of his pursuit. One reason for his great discretion seems to me to be his total incapacity of speech-in any other than the interrogative mood. His very tone is set to that key. I doubt if he can drop his voice at the end of a sentence, or knows the meaning of a full stop. Who? What? When? Where? How are his catchwords; and Eh? his only interjection. Children and poor people, and all awkward persons who like to be talked to, and to talk again, but do not very well understand how to set about it, delight in Mr. Lynx's notice.

His catechetical mode of conversation en- As I live, here he is! just alighting from chants them, especially as he is of a liberal the grey poney, asking old Dame Wheeler turn, and has generally some loose silver in what makes her lame on one side, and little his pocket to bestow on a good answerer. Jemmy White, why his jacket is ragged on To be sure the rapidity of his questions some- the other-bawling to both-Dame Wheeler times a little incommodes our country dames, is deaf, and Jemmy stupid and she is anwho when fairly set into a narrative of griev- swering at cross purposes, and he staring ances do not care to be interrupted; but the with his mouth open, and not answering at honour of telling their histories and the histo- all, and Mr. Lynx is pouring question on ries of all their neighbours to a gentleman, question as fast as rain-drops in a thundermakes ample amends for this little alloy.- shower-Well I must put away my desk, and They are the only class who can endure his my papers, especially this, for I should not society, and he returns the compliment by quite like to have the first benefit of the true showing a very decided preference for theirs. and faithful likeness, which I have been The obscure has a remarkable charm for him. sketching; I must put it away; folding and To enjoy it in perfection, he will often repair sealing will hardly do, for though I don't to some great manufacturing town where he think-I can scarcely imagine, that he would is wholly unknown, and deposit himself in actually break open a sealed packet,-yet man some suburban lodging, in a new-built row, is frail; I have a regard for my old friend, with poplars before the door, when, inviting and will not put him in the way of temptation. his landlady to make tea for him, he gains, by aid of that genial beverage, an insight into all the loves and hatreds, "kitchen cabals and nursery mishaps,"-in a word, all the scandal of the town. Then he is happy.

WALKS IN THE COUNTRY.

THE OLD HOUSE AT ABERLEIGH.

JUNE 25th. What a glowing, glorious day! Summer in its richest prime, noon in its most sparkling brightness, little white clouds dappling the deep blue sky, and the sun, now partially veiled, and now bursting through them with an intensity of light! It would not do to walk to-day, professedly to walk,— we should be frightened at the very sound; and yet it is probable that we may be beguiled into a pretty long stroll before we return home. We are going to drive to the old house at Aberleigh, to spend the morning under the shade of those balmy firs, and amongst those luxuriant rose-trees, and by the side of that brimming Loddon river. "Do not expect us before six o'clock," said I, as I left the house; "Six at soonest!" added my charming companion; and off we drove in our little pony chaise drawn by our old mare, and with the good-humoured urchin, Henry's successor, a sort of younger Scrub, who takes care of horse and chaise, and cow and garden, for our charioteer.

Travelling is much to his taste; as are also Stage Coaches, and Steam Packets, and Diligences, and generally all places where people meet and talk, especially an inn, which is capital questioning ground, and safer than most other. There is a license, a liberty, a freedom in the very name, and besides people do not stay long enough to be affronted. He spends a good deal of his time in these privileged abodes, and is well known as the Inquisitive Gentleman, on most of the great roads, although his seat of Lynx Hall is undoubtedly his principal residence. It is most commodiously situated, on a fine eminence overlooking three counties; and he spends most of his time in a sort of observatory, which he has built on a rising ground, at the edge of the park, where he has mounted a telescope, by means of which he not only commands all the lanes and bye-paths in the neighbourhood, but is enabled to keep a good look out, on the great northern road, two miles off, to oversee the stage-coaches, and keep an eye on the mail. The manor lies in two parishes-another stroke of good fortune! -since the gossiping of both villages seems to belong to him of territorial right. Vestries, My comrade in this homely equipage was work-houses, schools, all are legitimately a young lady of high family and higher endowground of inquiry. Besides his long and in- ments, to whom the novelty of the thing, and timate acquaintance with the neighbourhood her own naturalness of character and simis an inestimable advantage, to a man of his plicity of taste gave an unspeakable enjoyment. turn of mind, and supplies, by detail and She danced the little chaise up and down as minuteness, what might be wanted in variety she got into it, and laughed for very glee like and novelty. He knows every man, woman a child. Lizzy herself could not have been and child, horse, cow, pig and dog, within more delighted. She praised the horse and half a dozen miles, and has a royal faculty the driver, and the roads and the scenery, and of not forgetting, so that he has always plenty gave herself fully up to the enchantment of a of matter for questions, and most of the people being his tenants, answers come quickly. He used

rural excursion in the sweetest weather of this sweet season. I enjoyed all this too; for the road was pleasant to every sense,

winding through narrow lanes, under high Comus. That queenly flower becomes the elme, and between hedges garlanded with water, and so do the stately swans which are woodbine and rose-trees, whilst the air was sailing so majestically down the stream, like scented with the delicious fragrance of blos- those who somed beans, I enjoyed it all, but I believe my principal pleasure was derived from my companion herself.

*On St. Mary's lake

Float double, swan and shadow."

We must dismount here, and leave Richard to take care of our equipage under the shade of these trees, whilst we walk up to the house; See, there it is! We must cross this stile? there is no other way now.”

And crossing the stile we were immediately in what had been a drive round a spacious, park, and still retained something of the cha-j racter, though the park itself had long been broken into arable fields, and in full view of the Great House, a beautiful structure of James the First's time, whose glassless windows and dilapidated doors, form a melancholy contrast with the strength and entireness of the rich and massive front.

Emily L. is a person whotn it is a privilege to know. She is quite like a creation of the older poets, and might pass for one of Shakspeare's or Fleteher's women just stepped into life; quite as tender, as playful, as gentle, and as kind. She is clever too, and has all the knowledge and accomplishments that a car fully-conducted education, acting on a mind of singular clearness and ductility, matured and improved by the very best company, can bestow. But one never thinks of her acquirements. It is the charming artless character, the bewitching sweetness of manner, the real and universal sympathy, the quick taste and the ardent feeling, that one loves in Emily. She is Irish by birth, and. The story of that ruin-for such it is-is has in perfection the melting voice and soft, always to me singularly affecting :-It is that caressing accent by which her fair country- of the decay of an ancient and distinguished' women are distinguished. Moreover she is family, gradually reduced from the highest pretty-I think her beautiful, and so do all wealth and station to actual poverty. The who have heard as well as seen her, but house and park, and a small estate around it, pretty, very pretty, all the world must con- were entailed on a distant cousin, and could fess; and, perhaps, that is a distinction more not be alienated; and the late owner, the last enviable, because less envied, than the "pal- of his name and lineage, after struggling with my state" of beauty. Her prettiness is of the debt and difficulty, farming his own lands, prettiest kind-that of which the chief cha-' and clinging to his magnificent home with a racter is youthfulness. A short but pleasing love of place almost as tenacious as that of figure, all grace and symmetry, a fair blooming the younger Foscari, was at last forced to face, beaming with intelligence and good-hu- abandon it, retired to a paltry lodging in a pal. mour; the prettiest little feet, and the whitest try town, and died there, about twenty years' hands in the world;-such is Emily L. ago, broken-hearted.

She resides with her maternal grandmother, a venerable old lady, slightly shaken with the palsy; and when together, (and they are so fondly attached to each other that they are seli dom parted) it is one of the loveliest combinations of youth and age ever witnessed. There is no seeing them without feeling an increase of respect and affection for both grandmother and granddaughter-always one of the tenderest and most beautiful of natural connections—as Richardson knew when he made such exquisite use of it in his matchless book. I fancy that grandmamma Shirley must have been just such another venerable lady as Mrs. S.,and our sweet Emily-Oh, no! Harriet Byron is not half good enough for her!— There is nothing like her in the whole seven volumes!

But here we are at the bridge! Here we must alight! This is the Loddon, Emily. i Is it not a beautiful river? rising level with its banks, so clear, and smooth, and peaceful, giving back the verdant landscape and the bright blue sky, and bearing on its pellucid stream the snowy water-lily, the purest of flowers, which sits enthroned on its own cool leaves looking chastity itself, like the lady in

His successor, bound by no ties of associa tion to the spot, and rightly judging the resi dence to be much too large for the diminished, estate, immediately sold the superb fixtures, and would have entirely taken down the house,' if, on making the attempt, the masonry had not been found so solid that the materials were not worth the labour. A great part, however, of one side is laid open, and the splendid chambers with their carving and gilding, are exposed to the wind and rain-sad memorials of past grandeur. The grounds have been left in a merciful neglect; the park, indeed, is broken up, the lawn mown twice a year like a common hay-field, the grotto mouldering into ruin, and the fish-ponds choked with rushes and aquatic plants; but the shrubs and ' flowering trees are undestroyed, ard, have grown into a magnificence of size and wild-1 ness of beauty, such as we may in eise them to attain in their native forests. Nothing en exceed their luxuriance, especially in the spring, when the liiae and laburnum and dubla cherry put forth their gorgeous blossett, 8. ——— There is a sweet sadness in the sight of such floweriness amidst such desolation; it seems the triumph of nature over the destructive