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he had heard of the loss of the letter he wrote, and could explain that; wrens chory The Al his young friend, Trundle, moreover, had told him the night before that, his affections being engaged elsewhere, he had made up his mind not to have anything to do with the widder;" and Mr. B. was too much a man of the world, when he saw Susanna and found out who she was, to hint at any ulterior purpose in the introduction he had proposed to.. Mr. Trundle. Nevertheless, he could not avoid mentioning that the young man who had "a tung in his hedd" was the individual who sighed for and was sighed after by Miss Sweeting, and-if agreeable to the ladies—he would bring him out to Thistle Grove next day.

Not only were the ladies "agreeable," but Mrs. Diaper insisted that Mr. Bagshaw and Mr. Trundle should come over early and take dinner; and this point settled, the trio began to consider in what way they should punish Mr. Hipgrave.

"I'll tell you what, aunt," said Susanna, after various propositions had been made and rejected." Ask him to come here and dine too, just as if nothing had happened. We can then expose him nicely before witnesses."

This course was adopted, and hence the message which the red-shirt delivered, so greatly to Mr. Hipgrave's satisfaction.

Sunday morning came, -and the bells had not left off tolling for church before Mr. Bagshaw and his young friend were safely housed at Thistle Grove. The lovers' quarrel was reconciled the moment they saw each other; indeed, it had been a settled matter the night before, even to the amount which Mrs, Diaper meant to give to set up her niece, and her future husband in a business in her own neighbourhood, with the promise of all she had in reversion. Sunday came, also, to Mr. Hipgrave. He could have wished that the sun had not shone so brightly, for the tokens of a row were still too evident on his features in spite of the remedies he had so diligently applied. However, he determined to put the best face he could on the matter, and if anything were said about his bruises, attribute them to a convenient lamp-post.

It was about twenty minutes past one when Mr. Hipgrave, with the air of a lord and master who felt, as Sir Giles Overreach says, "cocksure," sauntered up to the garden-gate of Mrs. Diaper. He had almost been given up, and dinner had been put on the table, when a ring at the bell told the assembled guests that their victim was at hand. All except Mrs. Diaper hurried into the back parlour, the door of which was left slightly a-jar, and Mr. Hipgrave entered the apartment.

"I'm afeard I've kep you waiting, Mrs. D.," he said, as he glanced round him and saw her ample preparations for dinner; though his mind was too much confused, in spite of his swagger, to take in the additional knives and forks, which indicated anything but a tête-à-tête,

"Oh, dear no," said the lady, bridling at his evident assurance; “I' should have waited all day till you came.

But in course you

"Should you, though" said Mr. Hipgrave. would, after what's took place between us. I'm ruther seedy this morning, Mrs. D.; overdone with bisness, my love; if it's all the same to you, I'll take a glass of wine before I set down to dinner."

"Oh, pray do, Mr. Hipgrave," returned Mrs. Diaper, in a voice of suppressed passion, which the ex-butler mistook for the trepidation of love "pray do, pray help yourself."

A

Mr. Hipgrave did as he was bid; poured out a glass of sherry and swallowed it, without even drinking the lady's health; he then took another, and becoming somewhat warmer and more animated by the process, proposed to himself to take something else-to-in fact, to repeat the salute with which he had taken leave on the previous Thursday evening. He advanced towards Mrs. Diaper with that cordial and amiable purpose, but by this time the lady's rage at his insolence had reached its culminating point.

We have said that Mrs. Diaper was a person of some bulk; we might have added that nature had endowed her with considerable strength; and when we observe that she lent the whole weight and force of which she was capable to the box on the ears which she bestowed on Mr. Hipgrave as he approached his face to hers, it will not be considered surprising that the ex-butler staggered half-way across the room under its infliction. Indeed, he only saved himself from tumbling by catching at the handle of the inner room door; but he did this in an evil moment, for the door itself flew open, and who should he see before him but Mr. Bagshaw, Mr. Trundle, and Miss Sweeting!

He was overwhelmed with astonishment and consternation, and which way to turn was beyond the power of his faculties. He was, however, spared much consideration, for Mr. Thomas Trundle, who had an old grudge to pay off besides the new one, seized him by the collar, and shook him so violently for some minutes that scarcely a breath was left in his body. Then the lady of the house broke out upon him, then Susanna threw in a gibe, then Mr. Bagshaw hoped his eyes were better, and then, making a football of him down to the very garden gate, Mr. Thomas Trundle kicked him into the road, and deposited him at full length on a couch of roadside mud.

As he was picking himself up, there was a pause in the laughter from the party at No. 1, and the front window being thrown open, he heard the voice of Mrs. Diaper utter these words:

"The next time you're invited to dinner, especially if you're going to be married, ask the first person you meet if it happens to be THE FIRST OF APRIL."

'Twas night, or early morn, the busy street
Was for a time deserted, and no sound,

Save the quick pattering of the rain that beat.
Against the casement, and the wind around,
Sighing its dismal strains, broke the profound,
The solemn, gloomy stillness that seemed meet
To lead the wakeful spirit from this earth—

Where Death has marked all creatures from their birth—
Up to the contemplation of yon spheres

Unknown, unseen, and yet for ever near;

Where the dark valley" passed-years-endless years, Nay, ages but like moments, shall

Oh! that "eternal shore,"

appear.

When Death shall be no more!

How widely differing from this mortal state,

Where we but draw our earliest breath,

To yield it up again in death,

Obedient to the unchanging laws of Fate!

'Twas night, and sleep had closed the weary eye,
And the dream-world its visionary gate
Had opened to my soul, and soaring high,
As if on angel-pinions borne aloft,
Methought I saw, above the azure sky,
As through a veil of silver light-so soft,
And so subdued, yet clear, transparent, bland―
Oh, view sublime !-it was the spirits' land!
Vainly would mortal thought try to portray
That heavenly scene-magnificent and grand.
No words of mortal language could convey
The slightest glimpse of that celestial home,
Where disembodied souls and angels roam
In bliss eternal; and the Godhead reigns
In majesty unspeakable, and might!
Methought around was shed a rosy light,-
And wafted to my ear, ecstatic strains

Came sweeping by,-while forms, radiant in love,
In dignity, and beauty, glorious-bright-
Seemed floating there (that angel-hymn remains
But faintly on my waking mind). Above,
Methought, I gazed in wonderment and awe,
And as I gazed, a cherub form I saw
Approach; his features were not strange to me.
Again-again I looked. Ah, yes!-'twas he
The cherub who was lent me for a space,

A short-short space on earth-yes! I could trace
The well-remembered features! To my side

He came.

"This is the blessed morn," he said,

"When for the sons of earth the Saviour paid
That mighty ransom, which has purchased grace,
And rose triumphant from the tomb! The wide,

The boundless universe this day rejoice. mod al
Hark! songs of praise swell every angel voice!...
And to commemorate this glorious day,

"

1

The dead, who died in Him, are called to risertai i
From yonder earth, where sleep their forms of clay,
And shape their course to meet Him in the skies.
Behold! the graves are bursting-shadowy hosts.
This Easter morn will throng the air:›
Alas! for them who have no share
In the redeeming mercy this day boasts !?
I looked and lo! the shrouded dead
From their dark vaults seemed to have fled',
The mould of many a grave was heaving,"
Pale forms their silent tombs were leaving,
And, hovering o'er the ocean's dark blue waves,
The drowned were rising from their sandy graves!
"Spirit!" I cried, "oh, take me to the spot
Where thy beloved brother lies!" A smile" 11
Was his reply. And quick as subtle thought
We passed far o'er the sea, to yonder iste,
And paused above the hallowed ground we sought.
'Twas dawn's cool hour: the brilliant sun awhile
Had yet to linger, ere his beams could play
With all the burning power of Tropic day!
I gazed upon the sixteen mounds that pressed
Upon so many noble hearts at rest.

Ah! side by side the much-mourned sleepers lay!"
Sleepers no longer! On that morning blest,

They too arose the new-made graves were rent,
And, slow ascending, all those gallant forms,
That oft had braved the ocean's wildest storms,

In their fresh shrouds their heavenward journey went. ́
But soon on one dear shade, as by a spell,

My gaze was fixed. His eye upon me fell,

And, for a moment, stopping in his flight

To the eternal realms of joy and light,

He said, "Mother, farewell! Grieve not for me!
My spirit from yon sinful world is free."
Oh! laud His holy name who called me thence,
That wise, that merciful Omnipotence!

But watch and pray,'

That in the day

When death shall snatch thee to the grave,
Through Him who hath the power to save,
Thy parted soul may be accepted there!"
He pointed upwards-then was lost in air!

* Sixteen officers of her Majesty's ship Dauntless, who died in November and December, 1852, of yellow fever, at Barbadoes; and were buried in the churchyard of the chapel of St. Matthias, where their graves are placed side by side. They were all fine, promising young men.

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CATTARO AND MONE im sarT
MONTENEGRO.*
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9bw 9 TI MR. KOHL, a gentleman who acquired something more than a mediocre celebrity among us by his travels through Great Britain, has lately added considerably to his reputation by a description of Istria, Dalmatia, and Montenegro. Very fortunately, too, for the general reader, he has not, in the present instance, overburdened his pages with statistical accounts, which, though very interesting to the the Few, are rather tedious to the Many. 7#. bode

Although we have not sufficient space to go through Mr. Kohl's new work in its entirety, but, through the interest at present attaching to the subject, confine our attention almost exclusively to Montenegro, still our readers must not imagine that the remainder of the work is not equally interesting. We can assure them that a perusal of the two volumes would impart not only amusement but instruction. Mr. Kohl has evidently wished to draw popular attention to a subject hitherto somewhat neglected; and those of his readers who wish to go deeper into the matter, will be enabled to make a selection from a list of works bearing on the same subject, which he quotes in his preface..

Mr. Kohl commenced his interesting travels in Dalmatia, where he visited the most important places: for instance, Zara, where the chief establishments for the manufacture of maraschino may be found; and Spalato, still more celebrated for the ruins of Diocletian's palace and mausoleum and the Temple of Jupiter, and afterwards proceeded to Cattaro.

The first signs of the existence of the warlike race of Montenegrins will be found on the Illyrian coast, by travellers who pass through Ragusa, for in the vicinity of that city numerous ruined villas may be seen. These were plundered and destroyed by the Montenegrins in the year 1806, when, through the influence of Russia, wild bands poured down from the mountains, in order to drive the French out of Ragusa.

Similar objects will be found on the shores of the Bocca di Cattaro, where the prosperous towns of Perastro, Dobrota, &c., lie close to the foot of the Montenegrin mountains. If the traveller inquire the cause of this destruction, everybody begins complaining of the Montenegrins, and quoting such or such a year in which they burst like a hailstorm upon their richer but detested neighbours on the Bocca. Montenegro, in fact, bears a close resemblance to a volcano, breaking out at intervals, and causing that desolation which may be seen more fully on the Turkish frontier, near the Herzegovina, and Scutari, than round the Bocca and Ragusa.

When the steamer on which Mr. Kohl had taken passage reached Cattaro, there was a general curiosity among the uninitiated passengers to have the first peep at a live Montenegrin, with much the same feeling and result as when the guide on the Alps promises the traveller the first sight of a chamois. However, there were plenty of them to be seen near Cattaro, for it was market-day. As the Montenegrins are compelled to * Reise nach Istrien, Dalmatien, und Montenegro. By J. G. Kohl. Williams and Norgate.

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