IT was at the close of a beautiful day in July that I walked out to enjoy the cool and delicious breeze of evening. The sun had some time since sunk behind the lofty hill which bounded the view on the west, but the reflection of his dying beams still gave a deep tinge to the clouds that rested on their tops; the mists were gathering over the fields that were spread around in all directions, intermingled with occasional clumps of wood, and now and then a few humble cottages, The inhabitants of the neighbouring hamlets had all retired to rest, and no sound interrupted the quiet which reigned, save the wind, which whispered among the trees, and seemed with melancholy music to lament the departing day, and the lonely bark of the distant watch dog, breaking in upon the "still voice of silence." No. 50.

B

The mind easily assimilates itself with surrounding objects. It is at moments, and amid scenes like these, that the soul seems to burst the chains of her earthly thraldom, and to be animated as if with a new life. It is then that we think of those who once roved with us in similar scenes, and at such hours we listen again to lips which are now silent; again encounter the sweet smile of eyes which once beamed on us; again feel the soft pressure of hands which have long ceased to move. The sweet and pleasant recollections of the past crowd upon us, and almost obliterate the consciousness of the present, in the remembrance of what once was. It is a delusion; but it is a sweet delusion, to dwell upon former happiness, to think of what we have lost. It is then that we fully experience the luxury of grief, which is produced by the memory of former sorrows, when time has mellowed down their bitterness, as the gloom of the evening blends the asperities of threatening rocks with the softness of the woodland plains.

When I had proceeded some way, I came to a spot where nature seemed to have exerted her utmost power of pleasing. It was a small romantic dell, covered with living green. The air was loaded with the perfumes which were exhaled by the beautiful wild flowers that invited the breeze, which there sighed with a deeper murmur, and accorded well with the rippling of a small brook, which sparkled amongst the long grass and mossy leaves, winding in capricious turnings, and occasionally forming a small, cascade, when its bubbling course was impeded by some large stone which had lain unmoved perhaps for ages. It was a considerable time before I perceived any marks of a human habitation in this delightful paradise; for the shade which pervaded it had till now prevented me from seeing a small cottage, which stood half covered with the honeysuckles that twined around its unassuming porch and small windows. Two tame pigeons sat on the branch of a venerable chesnut, which spread its protecting arms over the roof of this low building. It was such a place as a poet would have wished to linger by, and a painter to depict on his canvas,

I knocked gently at the door, afraid of disturbing the inmates of this terrestrial paradise. It was opened

was

by a woman, the very personification of hospitality; she was rather bent down by years, and I thought Í could discern traces of sorrow on her brow, for I young, fanciful, and a physiognomist. Her dress was neat; a cap covered her hair, which was grey, nearly approaching to white. Her countenance was fresh, and she held a stick in her hand, perhaps more from habit than necessity, for her steps were tolerably firm, and her whole appearance denoted that healthy old age, which is the result of a youth of temperance. She invited me in, drew a chair, and desired me to sit down.

By this time I recollected myself sufficiently to apologize for my intrusion, offering my long walk as an excuse for resting myself. The room in which I sat corresponded with the exterior of the building, neat but simple. An oak table, polished sufficiently to have superseded the use of a mirror, stood against the wall, and pan covers, fire irons, and other household implements were arranged to the best advantage over the chimney piece. These, with several chairs, a cupboard, and a few shelves, ornamented with crockery ware, completed the furniture of the apartment.

By the fire sat an old man, who appeared to be about ten years older than my kind hostess. He seemed unable to rise from his chair; but the hearty shake of his hand, and "Ye're welcome, ye're welcome," indicated good nature. "You have a very pleasant spot here." "Eh, sir, it is a sweet place, and has been the scene o' many a pleasure." "Has been?" "Yes, sir, has been; we had once a son, and he used to sit by that fire on an e'en, when he returned from his labour, and would shorten the long nights wi' his talk, and we were proud o' him, but our pride has been humbled; and it has pleased the Lord that we shall lose him." Here the old woman's speech faultered, and I could mark a tear trickling down the cheek of her venerable husband. I saw that I was touching a tender point, and I changed the conversation. I was preparing to be gone, but the hospitable old people would not permit me to step over their threshold, till I had partaken of some cold meat and a stoup of excellent ale. Whilst I was regaling myself, my hostess took from the cupboard a small

case, and, placing it before me, said, "That, sir, is the likeness of him that was our son.' It presented the countenance of a young man in the bloom of life: the features were pleasing, and to me seemed fraught with intelligence. After I had examined it a few minutes, she returned it to its case, and I soon after departed, with hearty thanks for their kindness.

I was then on my route to the metropolis, from whence I purposed visiting Venice, a place which had those charms to me which it seems to have in the eyes of Lord Byron. I longed to view the "relicks of old time;" I panted to behold "the den of drunkards with the blood of princes;" and I determined to gratify this laudable curiosity. I accordingly set sail, and began my career upon this new and mighty element. For the first week I was horribly tormented with the sea sickness; and my servant, who was incessant in his attentions to me, was, I believe, the only one who paid me the least regard.

I was beginning to doze one night, when I was alarmed at a tumultuous shout, and a bustling din on board. My sickness had now vanished, and I therefore sprung upon deck, to learn the cause of this confusion. I >found that there was a vessel not far from us, which seemed to be an English one, and our crew were endeavouring to hail her. As every thing from my native land was pleasant, I staid on deck to behold her. She, however, kept aloof until about four o'clock in the morning, when she turned towards us, and was within gunshot immediately. We now perceived that her crew were all blacks, and distinguished that she bore English colours on purpose to lure us. A man on board her, in broken English, bade us deliver up our ship. To this we made answer by a broadside; they returned the fire; and we were immediately enveloped in smoke. Never did I witness such a scene. The alacrity and promptitude with which cach man gave or obeyed orders was wonderful. They were never idle. They seemed to step fearless into the midst of danger, and to brave death: not a hand trembled. There was a sternness which sat upon each face, a fixed and determined resolution to conquer or to die; and I looked upon them as a crew of heroes.

She now bore down quickly upon us, and threw out her grapling irons. Her crew immediately boarded us. I felt a desperate courage thrill through my veins : I struck down a black, seized his sabre, and cleft the next man completely through. I cut and hacked on every side, and fought as if I were furious. Their captain, who was a strong, tall, dark complexioned man, not a black, now came in my way. I flew at him like a fury; he calmly awaited my assault. I struck at him with all my force; he caught the blow on his scimetar, and my sword broke into a thousand shivers. This did not prevent me from springing upon him. I received a wound; but desperation had rendered my strength Herculean, and I seized him as if he had been a child, and hurled him into the foaming deep. The sea boiled over him; but he rose, caught a rope which was thrown to him by one of his men, and clambered up the vessel's side. Our crew was now overpowered by numbers; the captain and I were ironed, and dragged to the other ship, where the chief was. A number of the black crew were plundering our vessel, when we heard a dreadful explosion; our ship had been blown up, and had destroyed the best part of our crew, and many of the blacks. An heroic little fellow, Jack Wyndham, had set fire to the magazine, and exploded himself, his messmates, and his cruel persecutors in the air. His body was taken up afterwards, and I looked upon it with

veneration.

My wound, which was in the forehead, became excessively painful, and I entreated for a surgeon; but this was denied me. Their captain ordered me on deck. I was brought to him fettered down hand and foot: I had now an opportunity of contemplating more at large his gigantic figure. He was full six feet high, uncommonly broad across the shoulders, and there was a fierceness and wildness in his appearance which was indescribable. He seemed to be an Englishman, and there was a something in his countenance which minded me that I had seen him before. His hair was black, and hung in curls down his face, the regular lines of which, unless distorted by passion, were remarkably handsome.

He spoke to me thus: "Villain! how durst you lift