clergyman who performed the ceremony, with as they both said, of the comfort of society. a learned antiquarian digression relative to But-strange miscalculation! she was a talker the church; then the setting out in procession; too! They parted in a week. the marriage; the kissing; the crying; the breakfasting; the drawing the cake through the ring; and finally, the bridal excursion, which brings us back again at an hour's end to the starting-post, the weather, and the whole story of the sopping, the drying, the clothesspoiling, the cold-catching, and all the small evils of a summer shower. By this time it rains, and she sits down to a pathetic seesaw of conjectures on the chance of Mrs. Smith's having set out for her daily walk, or the possibility that Dr. Brown may have ventured to visit his patients in his gig, and the certainty that Lady Green's new housemaid would come from London on the outside of the coach. With all this intolerable prosing, she is actually reckoned a pleasant woman! Her acquaintance in the great manufacturing town where she usually resides is very large, which may partly account for the misnomer. Her conversation is of a sort to bear dividing. Besides, there is, in all large societies, an instinctive sympathy which directs each individual to the companion most congenial to his humour. Doubtless, her associates deserve the old French compliment, " Ils ont tous un grand talent pour le silence." Parcelled out amongst some seventy or eighty, there may even be some savour in her talk. It is the tete-à-tete that kills, or the small fire-side circle of three or four, where only one can speak, and all the rest must seem to listen-seem! did I say?-must listen in good earnest. Hotspur's expedient in a similar situation of crying" Hem! Go to," and marking not a word, will not do here; compared to her, Owen Glendower was no conjurer. She has the eye of a hawk, and detects a wandering glance, an incipient yawn, the slightest movement of impatience. The very needle must be quiet. If a pair of scissors do but wag, she is affronted, draws herself up, breaks off in the middle of a story, of a sentence, of a word, and the unlucky culprit must, for civility's sake, summon a more than Spartan fortitude, and beg the torturer to resume her torments "That, that is the unkindest cut of all!" I wonder, if she had happened to have married, how many husbands she would have talked to death. It is certain that none of her relations are longlived after she comes to reside with them. Father, mother, uncle, sister, brother, two nephews, and one niece, all these have successively passed away, though a healthy race, and with no visible disorder-except-but we must not be uncharitable. They might have died, though she had been born dumb:-" It is an accident that happens every day." Since the disease of her last nephew, she attempted to form an establishment with a widow lady, for the sake, And we have also parted. I am just returning from escorting her to the coach, which is to convey her two hundred miles westward; and I have still the murmur of her adieuz| resounding in my ears, like the indistinct hum of the air on a frosty night. It was curious to see how, almost simultaneously, these mournful adieux shaded into cheerful salutations of her new comrades, the passengers in the mail. Poor souls! Little does the civil young lad who made way for her, or the fat lady, his mamma, who with pains and inconvenience made room for her, or the grumpy gentleman in the opposite corner, who after some dispute, was at length won to admit her dressing box,-little do they suspect what is to befall them. Two hundred miles! and she never sleeps in a carriage! Well, patience be with them, and comfort and peace! A pleasant journey to them! And to her all happiness! She is a most kind and excellent person, one for whom I would do any thing in my poor power-ay, even were it to listen to her another four days. ELLEN. A VERY small gift may sometimes cause great pleasure. I have just received a present which has delighted me more than any thing ever bestowed on me by friends or fortune. It is-but my readers shall guess what it is; and, that they may be enabled to do so, I must tell them a story. Charlotte and Ellen Page were the twin daughters of the rector of N., a small town' in Dorsetshire. They were his only children, having lost their mother shortly after their birth; and, as their father was highly connected, and still more highly accomplished, and possessed good church preferment with a considerable private fortune, they were reared and educated in the most liberal and expensive style. Whilst mere infants they had been uncommonly beautiful, and as remarkably alike as occasionally happens with twin sisters, distinguished only by some ornament of dress. Their very nurse, as she used to boast, could hardly tell her pretty "couplets" apart, so exactly alike were the soft blue eyes, the rosy cheeks, the cherry lips, and the curly light hair. Change the turquoise necklace for the coral, and nurse herself would not know Charlotte from Ellen. This pretty puzzle, this inconvenience, of which mammas and aunts and grandmammas love to complain, did not last long. Either from a concealed fall, or from original delicacy of habit, the little Ellen faded and drooped almost into deformity. There was no visible defect in her shape, ex cept a slight and almost imperceptible lameness when in quick motion; but there was the marked and peculiar look in the features, the languor and debility, and above all, the distressing consciousness attendant upon imperfect formation; and, at the age of twenty years, the contrast between the sisters was even more striking than the likeness had been at two. Charlotte was a fine, robust, noble-looking girl, rather above the middle height; her eyes and complexion sparkled and glowed with life and health, her rosy lips seemed made for smiles, and her glossy brown hair played in natural ringlets round her dimpled face. Her manner was a happy mixture of the playful and the gentle; frank, innocent, and fearless, she relied with a sweet confidence on every body's kindness, was ready to be pleased, and secure of pleasing. Her artlessness and nairete had great success in society, especially as they were united with the most perfect good-breeding, and considerable quickness and talent. Her musical powers were of the most delightful kind; she sang exquisitely, joining, to great taste and science, a life, and freedom, and buoyancy, quite unusual in that artificial personage, a young lady. Her clear and ringing notes had the effect of a milk-maid's song, as if a mere ebullition of animal spirits; there was no resisting the contagion of Charlotte's glee. She was a general favourite, and above all a favourite at home, the apple of her father's eye, the pride and ornament of his boose, and the delight and comfort of his life. The two children had been so much alike, and born so nearly together, that the precedence in age had never been definitely setled; but that point seemed very early to decide itself. Unintentionally, as it were, Charlotte took the lead, gave invitations, received visiters, sate at the head of the table, became in fact and in name Miss Page, while her sister continued Miss Ellen. Poor Ellen! she was short, and thin, and sickly, and pale, with no personal charm but the tender expression of her blue eyes and the umid sweetness of her countenance. The resemblance to her sister had vanished altogether, except when very rarely some strong emotion of pleasure, a word of praise, or a look of kindness from her father, would bring a smile and a blush at once into her face, and hghten it up like a sunbeam. Then, for a passing moment, she was like Charlotte, and Even prettier, there was so much of mind, of soul, in the transitory beauty. In manner she was unchangeably gentle and distressingly shy, shy even to awkwardness. Shame and fear elong to her like her shadow. In compay she could neither sing, nor play, nor peak, without trembling, especially when her father was present. Her awe of him was mespressible. Mr. Page was a man of conderable talent and acquirement, of polished and elegant manners, and great conversational power, quick, ready, and sarcastic. He never condescended to scold; but there was something very formidable in the keen glance, and the cutting jest, to which poor Ellen's want of presence of mind frequently exposed her,-something from which she shrank into the very earth. He was a good man too, and a kind father-at least he meant to be so,attentive to her health and comfort, strictly impartial in favours and presents, in pocketmoney and amusements, making no difference between the twins, except that which he could not help, the difference in his love. But, to an apprehensive temper and an affectionate heart, that was every thing; and whilst Charlotte flourished and blossomed like a rose in the sunshine, Ellen sickened and withered like the same plant in the shade. Mr. Page lost much enjoyment by this unfortunate partiality; for he had taste enough to have particularly valued the high endowments which formed the delight of the few friends to whom his daughter was intimately known. To them not only her varied and accurate acquirements, but her singular richness of mind, her grace and propriety of expression and fertility of idea, joined to the most perfect ignorance of her own superiority, rendered her an object of as much admiration as interest. In poetry, especially, her justness of taste and quickness of feeling were almost unrivalled. She was no poetess herself, never, I believe, even ventured to compose a sonnet; and her enjoyment of high literature was certainly the keener for that wise abstinence from a vain competition. Her admiration was really worth having. The tears would come into her eyes, the book would fall from her hand, and she would sit lost in ecstasy over some noble passage, till praise, worthy of the theme, would burst in unconscious eloquence from her lips. But the real charm of Ellen Page lay in the softness of her heart and the generosity of her character: no human being was ever so free from selfishness, in all its varied and clinging forms. She literally forgot herself in her pure and ardent sympathy with all whom she loved, or all to whom she could be useful. There were no limits to her indulgence, no bounds to her candour. Shy and timid as she was, she forgot her fears to plead for the innocent, or the penitent, or even the guilty. She was the excuser-general of the neighbourhood, turned every speech and action the sunny side without, and often in her good-natured acuteness hit on the real principle of action, when the cunning and the worldly-wise and the cynical, and such as look only for bad motives, had failed. She had, too, that rare quality, a genuine sympathy not only with the sorrowful, (there is a pride in that feeling, a superiority, we have all plenty of that,) but with the happy. She could smile with those who smiled, as well as weep with those So constituted, it may be imagined that she was, to all who really knew her, an object of intense admiration and love. Servants, children, poor people, all adored Miss Ellen. She had other friends in her own rank of life, who had found her out-many; but her chief friend, her principal admirer, she who loved her with the most entire affection, and looked up to her with the most devoted respect, was her sister. Never was the strong and lovely tie of twinsisterhood more closely knit than in these two charming young women. Ellen looked on her favoured sister with a pure and unjealous delight that made its own happiness, a spirit of candour and of justice that never permitted her to cast a shade of blame on the sweet object of her father's partiality: she never indeed blamed him; it seemed to her so natural that every one should prefer her sister. Charlotte, on the other hand, used all her influence for Ellen, protected and defended her, and was half tempted to murmur at an affection which she would have valued more if shared equally with that dear friend. Thus they lived in peace and harmony; Charlotte's bolder temper and higher spirits leading and guiding in all common points, whilst on the more important she implicitly yielded to Ellen's judgment. But, when they had reached their twenty-first year, a great evil threatened one of the sisters, arising (strange to say) from the other's happiness. Charlotte, the reigning belle of an extensive and affluent neighbourhood, had had almost as many suitors as Penelope; but, light-hearted, happy at home, constantly busy and gay, she had taken no thought of love, and always struck me as a very likely subject for an old maid; yet her time came at last. A young man, the very reverse of herself, pale, thoughtful, gentlemanlike, and melancholy, wooed and won our fair Euphrosyne. He was the second son of a noble house, and bred to the church; and it was agreed between the fathers, that, as soon as he should be ordained, (for he still wanted some months of the necessary age,) and settled in a family living held for him by a friend, the young couple should be married. In the mean while Mr. Page, who had recently succeeded to some property in Ireland, found it necessary to go thither for a short time; and, unwilling to take his daughters with him, as his estate lay in the disturbed districts, he indulged us with their company during his absence. They came to us in the bursting spring-time, on the very same day with the nightingale; the country was new to them, and they were delighted with the scenery and with our cottage life. We, on our part, were enchanted with our young guests. Charlotte was certainly the most amiable of enamoured damsels, for love with her was but a more sparkling and smiling form of happiness;-all that there was of care and fear in this attachment fell to Ellen's lot; but even she, though sighing at the thought of parting, could not be very miserable whilst her sister was so happy. A few days after their arrival, we happened to dine with our accomplished neighbours, Colonel Falkner and his sister. Our young friends of course accompanied us; and a similarity of age, of liveliness, and of musical talent, speedily recommended Charlotte and Miss Falkner to each other. They became immediately intimate, and were soon almost inseparable. Ellen at first hung back. "The house was too gay, too full of shifting company, of titles, and of strange faces. Miss Falkner was very kind; but she took too much notice of her, introduced her to lords and ladies, talked of her drawings, and pressed her to sing:-she would rather, if I pleased, stay with me, and walk in the coppice, or sit in the arbour, and one might read Spenser, while the other worked that would be best of all. Might she stay?"—"Oh surely! But Colonel Falkner, Ellen, I thought you would have liked him?"—"Yes!". "That yes sounds exceedingly like no."-"Why, is he not almost too clever, too elegant, too grand a man? Too mannered, as it were! Too much like what one fancies of a prince-of George the Fourth, for instance too high and too condescending? These are strange faults," continued she, laughing-"and it is a curious injustice that I should dislike a man merely because he is so graceful, that he makes me feel doubly awkward-so tall, that I am in his presence a conscious dwarf-so alive and eloquent in conversation, that I feel more than ever puzzled and unready. But so it is. To say the truth, I am more afraid of him than of any human being in the world, except one. I may stay with you-may I not; and read of Una and of Britomart-that prettiest scene where her old nurse soothes her to sleep? I may stay?" And for two or three mornings she did stay with me; but Charlotte's influence and Miss Falkner's kindness speedily drew her to Holly-grove, at first shyly and reluctantly, yet soon with an evident though quiet enjoyment; and we, sure that our young visiters could gain nothing but good in such society, were pleased that they should so vary the humble home-scene. Colonel Falkner was a man in the very prime of life, of that happy age which unites the grace and spirit of youth with the firmness and vigour of manhood. The heir of a large fortune, he had served in the peninsular war, fought in Spain and France, and at Waterloo, and, quitting the army at the peace, had loitered about Germany and Italy and Greece, and only returned on the death of his father, two or three years back, to reside on the the merit of the unconscious possessor, profamily estate, where he had won "golden bably gone for ever. She had all the pretty opinions from all sorts of people." He was, marks of love at that happy moment when the as Ellen truly described him, tall and grace- name and nature of the passion are alike unful, and well-bred almost to a fault; remind- suspected by the victim. To her there was ing her of that beau-ideal of courtly elegance, but one object in the whole world, and that George the Fourth, and me, (pray, reader, do one was Colonel Falkner: she lived only in not tell!) me, a little, a very little, the least his presence; hung on his words; was restin the world, of Sir Charles Grandison. He less she knew not why in his absence; adopted certainly did excel rather too much in the his tastes and opinions, which differed from mere forms of politeness, in cloakings and hers as those of clever men so frequently do bowings, and handings down stairs; but then from those of clever women; read the books he was, like both his prototypes, thoroughly he praised, and praised them too, deserting imbued with its finer essence-considerate, our old idols, Spenser and Fletcher, for his attentive, kind, in the most comprehensive favourites, Dryden and Pope; sang the songs sense of that comprehensive word. I have he loved as she walked about the house; drew certainly known men of deeper learning and his features instead of Milton's in a portrait more original genius, but never any one whose which she was copying for me of our great powers were better adapted to conversation, poet, and finally wrote his name on the marwho could blend more happily the most va- gin. She moved as in a dream-a dream as ried and extensive knowledge with the most innocent as it was delicious! - but oh, the playful wit and the most interesting and ami- sad, sad waking! It made my heart ache to able character. Fascinating was the word think of the misery to which that fine and that seemed made for him. His conversation sensitive mind seemed to be reserved. Ellen was entirely free from trickery and display- was formed for constancy and suffering-it the charm was (or seemed to be) perfectly was her first love, and it would be her last. natural: he was an excellent listener; and I had no hope that her affection was returned. when he was speaking to any eminent person Young men, talk as they may of mental at-orator, artist, or poet,—I have sometimes tractions, are commonly the slaves of personal seen a slight hesitation, a momentary diffi- charms. Colonel Falkner, especially, was dence, as attractive as it was unexpected. It a professed admirer of beauty. I had even was this astonishing evidence of fellow-feel- sometimes fancied that he was caught by ing, joined to the gentleness of his tone, the Charlotte's, and had therefore taken an opsweetness of his smile, and his studied avoid-portunity to communicate her engagement to ance of all particular notice or attention, that his sister. Certainly he paid our fair and Erst reconciled Ellen to Colonel Falkner. His sister, too, a charming young woman, as like him as Viola to Sebastian, began to understand the sensitive properties of this shrinking and delicate flower, which, left to itself, repaid |their kind neglect by unfolding in a manner that surprised and delighted us all. Before the spring had glided into summer, Ellen was Affairs were in this posture when I was at as much at home at Holly-grove as with us; once grieved and relieved by the unexpected talked and laughed and played and sang as recall of our young visiters. Their father had freely as Charlotte. She would indeed break completed his business in Ireland, and was off if visibly listened to, either when speak- eager to return to his dear home, and his dear ing or singing; but still the ice was broken; children; Charlotte's lover, too, was ordained, that rich, low, mellow voice, unrivalled in and was impatient to possess his promised pathos and sweetness, might be heard every treasure. The intended bridegroom was to evening, even by the Colonel, with little more arrive the same evening to escort the fair sisprecaution, not to disturb her by praise or no-ters, and the journey was to take place the tice, than would be used with her fellow-warbier the nightingale. She was happy at Holly-grove, and we were delighted; but so shifting and various are human feelings and wishes, that, as the summer wore on, before the hay-making was over in its beautiful park, whilst the bees were still in its lime-trees, and the golden beetle lurked in its white rose, I began to lament that she had ever seen Holly-grove, or known its master. It was clear to me, that unintentionally on his part, unwittingly on hers, her heart was gone, and, considering blooming guest extraordinary attention! any thing of gallantry or compliment was always addressed to her, and so for the most part was his gay and captivating conversation; whilst his manner to Ellen, though exquisitely soft and kind, seemed rather that of an affectionate brother. I had no hopes. next day. Imagine the revulsion of feeling produced by a short note, a bit of folded paper -the natural and redoubled ecstasy of Charlotte, the mingled emotions of Ellen. She wept bitterly: at first she called it joy-joy that she should again see her dear father; then it was grief to lose her Charlotte; grief to part from me; but, when she threw herself in a farewell embrace on the neck of Miss Falkner, whose brother happened to be absent for a few days on business, the truth appeared to burst upon her at once, in a gush of agony that seemed likely to break her heart. Miss Falkner was deeply affected; begged her to cess?" “Will I! Oh! how sincerely! My write to her often, very often; loaded her with dear colonel, I beg a thousand pardons for unthe gifts of little price, the valueless tokens dervaluing your taste for suspecting you of which affection holds so dear, and stole one preferring a damask rose to a blossomed myrof her fair ringlets in return. "This is the tle; I should have known you better." And curl which William used to admire," said then we talked of Ellen, dear Ellen,-talked she: "have you no message for poor Wil- and praised till even the lover's heart was saliam?"-Poor Ellen! her blushes spoke, and tisfied. I am convinced that he went away the tears that dropped from her downcast that morning, persuaded that I was one of eyes; but she had no utterance. Charlotte, the cleverest women, and the best judges of however, came to her relief with a profusion character that ever lived. of thanks and compliments; and Ellen, weeping with a voice that would not be controlled, at last left Holly-grove. The next day we too lost our dear young friends. Oh what a sad day it was! how much we missed Charlotte's bright smile and Ellen's sweet complacency! We walked about desolate and forlorn, with the painful sense of want and insufficiency, and of that vacancy in our home, and at our board, which the departure of a cherished guest is sure to occasion. To lament the absence of Charlotte, the dear Charlotte, the happiest of the happy, was pure selfishness; but of the aching heart of Ellen, my dear Ellen, I could not bear to think and yet I could think of nothing else, could call up no other image than her pale and trembling form, weeping and sobbing as I had seen her at Holly-grove; she haunted even my dreams. And now my story is over. What need to say, that the letter was written with the warmest zeal, and received with the most cordial graciousness -or that Ellen, though shedding sweet tears, bore the shock of joy better than the shock of grief, or that the twin sisters were married on the same day, at the same altar, each to the man of her heart, and each with every prospect of more than common felicity? What need to say this? Or having said this, why should I tell what was the gift that so enchanted me? I will not tell:- my readers shall decide according to their several fancies between silver favours or bridal gloves, or the magical wedding cake drawn nine times through the ring. WALKS IN THE COUNTRY. THE COWSLIP-BALL. Early the ensuing morning I was called down to the colonel, and found him in the garden. He apologized for his unseasonable intrusion; talked of the weather, then of the MAY 16th.-There are moments in life, loss which our society had sustained; blushed when, without any visible or immediate cause, and hesitated; had again recourse to the wea- the spirits sink and fall, as it were, under the ther; and at last by a mighty effort, after two mere pressure of existence: moments of unor three sentences begun and unfinished, con- accountable depression, when one is weary trived, with an embarrassment more graceful of one's very thoughts, haunted by images and becoming than all his polished readiness, that will not depart-images many and varito ask me to furnish him with a letter to Mr. ous, but all painful; friends lost, or changed, Page. "You must have seen," said he, co- or dead; hopes disappointed even in their aclouring and smiling, "that I was captivated complishment; fruitless regrets, powerless by your beautiful friend; and I hope I could wishes, doubt and fear and self-distrust, and have wished to have spoken first to herself, to self-disapprobation. They who have known have made an interest-but still if her affec- these feelings, (and who is there so happy as tions are disengaged—tell me, you who must not to have known some of them?) will unknow, you who are always my friend, have I derstand why Alfieri became powerless, and any chance? Is she disengaged?" "Alas! Froissart dull; and why even needle-work, I have sometimes feared this; but I thought that most effectual sedative, that grand soother you had heard your sister at least was and composer of woman's distress, fails to aware"-"Of what? It was but this very comfort me to-day. I will go out into the air morning-aware of what?" "Of Charlotte's this cool pleasant afternoon, and try what that engagement." "Charlotte! It is of Ellen, will do. I fancy that exercise, or exertion of not her sister, that I speak and think! Of any kind, is the true specific for nervousness. Ellen, the pure, the delicate, the divine!"Fling but a stone, the giant dies." I will That whitest and sweetest of flowers; the jasmine, the myrtle, the tuberose among women," continued he, elucidating his similes by gathering a sprig of each plant, as he paced quickly up and down the garden walk -“Ellen, the fairest and the best; your darling and mine! Will you give me a letter to her father? And will you wish me suc go to the meadows, the beautiful meadows! And on we go fast, fast! down the road, |