"No," said Walstein, still very serious, "not an affair of climate-certainly not. The truth is, travel is a preparation, and we bear with its yoke as we do with all that is initiatory-with the solace of expectation. But my preparation can lead to nothing, and there appear to be no mysteries in which I am to be initiated."

"Then, after all, you want something to do?" "No doubt."

"What shall it be?" inquired Madame de Schulembourg, with a thoughtful air.

"Ah! what shall it be?" echoed Walstein, in accents of despondence; or rather what can it be? What can be more tame, more uninteresting, more unpromising, than all around. Where is there a career?"

"A career!" exclaimed Caroline; "What you want to set the world in a blaze! I thought you were a poetic dreamer, a listless, superfine speculator of an exhausted world. And all the time you are very ambitious!" "I know not what I am," replied Walstein; "but I feel that my present lot is an intolerable burthen."

"But what can you desire! You have wealth, youth, and station, all the accidents of fortune which nature can bestow, and all for which men struggle. Believe me, you are born to enjoy yourself, nor do I see that you require any other career than the duties of your position. Believe me, my dear Mr. Walstein, life is a great business, and quite enough to employ any man's faculties."

"My youth is fast fading, which I don't regret," replied Walstein, "for I am not an admirer of youth. As for station, I attribute no magic to it, and wealth I only value because knowing from experience its capacity of producing pleasure; were I a beggar tomorrow, I should be haunted by no uneasy sensations. Pardon me, Madame de Schulembourg; your philosophy does not appear to be that of my friend, the Doctor. We were told this afternoon that, to produce happiness, the nature of a being and his career must coincide. Now, what can wealth and station produce of happiness to me, if I have the mind of a bandit, or perhaps even of a mechanic."

"You must settle all this with Augustus,” replied Madame de Schulembourg; "I am glad, however, to hear you abuse youth. I always tell Sidonia that he makes his heroes too young, which enrages him beyond description. Do you know him?"

"Only by fame."

too, but only by fits. Would you like to make his acquaintance?"

"Authors are best known by their writings," replied Walstein; "I admire his, because, amid much wildness, he is a great reader of the human heart, and I find many echoes in his pages of what I dare only to think and to utter in solitude."

"I shall introduce you to him. He is exceedingly vain, and likes to make the acquaintance of an admirer."

"I entreat you not," replied Walstein, really alarmed. "It is precisely because I admire him very much that I never wish to see him. What can the conversation of Sidonia be compared with his writings. His appearance and his manner will only destroy the ideal, in which it is always interesting to indulge."

"Well, be not alarmed! He is not now in Dresden. He has been leading a wild life for some time, in our Saxon Switzerland in a state of despair. I am the unhappy nymph who occasions his present desperation," continued Madame de Schulembourg, with a smile. "Do not think me heartless; all his passion is imagination. Change of scene ever cures him; he has written to me every week-his letters are each time more reasonable. I have no doubt he has by this time relieved his mind in some mad work which will amuse us all very much, and will return again to Dresden quite cool. I delight in Sidonia-he is my especial favourite."

After some little time the companions reentered the carriage. The public drive was now full of sparkling equipages. Madame de Schulembourg gaily bowed as she passed along to many a beautiful friend.

"Dear girls, come home with us this eve," she exclaimed, as she curbed her ponies by the side of an open carriage, and addressed two young ladies who were seated within it with their mother. "Let me introduce Mr. Walstein to you-Madame de Manheim, the Misses de Manheim, otherwise Augusta and Amelia. Ask any of our friends whom you pass. There is Emilius-How do you do? Count Voyna, come home with us, and bring your Bavarian friend."

"How is Sidonia, Madame de Schulembourg," inquired Augusta.

"Oh, quite mad. He will not be sane this week. There is his last letter; read it, and return it to me when we meet. Adieu, Madame de Manheim; adieu, dear girls; do not stay long: adieu, adieu." So they

My love adventures with Alice, with whose ame it struck me I should have met that of Caroline's red-coated Captain-my love adventures with Alice, which I recently mentioned to prove that Mary had mistaken me in imagining herself the object of my love, commenced and ended in my twentieth year-they form rather a funny episode.

Alice's father and mother were very respectable, formal, steady, disagreeable people; and she herself the liveliest and prettiest girl I ever met with ;-not the most beautiful, but the prettiest. She was rather petite than otherwise, well formed, and always well dressed. Her face, and neck, and arms were fair, her cheeks rosy, perhaps a leetle too rosy; her eyes blue, bright, and shrewd, and generally looking what is more expressively than meaningly termed "wicked." Her hair was light, golden, and frizzy, and gave that peculiar character to her face which charmed me. Her mouth was delightful, the lips little, but plump, and exquisitely red, and between them four only of the upper row of her teeth peeped out like pearls.

Her parents had been in trade, and between them and mine there existed a feud, almost an enmity, in consequence of the former having "been rude," in consequence of the latter having withdrawn their custom, in consequence of some inadequate cause, no matter what; it has nothing to do with the story.

I paid Alice sundry attentions at a public ball at which I met her; and found her a really delightful girl. On each discovering who the other was, we chatted-laughing the while with most enviable gout and light-heartedness-of the schism between our four parents. She had, I found, more brilliancy than depth, and was therefore more entertaining than edifying; but in a very few moments I was possessed with the foud conviction that she was a person to be very much beloved; and before we parted, I found that it was a most clear case of mutual attachment. What was to be done? There was a holding of hands and a fixed looking into each other's eyes at parting, much to the horror of an aunt who had brought her; and while the said interesting chaperone was, by what we both then held a special intervention of providence, engaged in a few minutes' converse with a male elderly in a pigtail and powder, we actually managed to

VOL. III.-NO. I.

arrange a clandestine meeting for the next day. As our parents were from town, little more was needful than to gain her maid over to her confidence; and next day, having been duly admitted on giving a preconcerted and peculiar rap at the door, I soon found myself tête-à-tête with Alice in the drawing-room. Heaven knows what we talked about for the two hours and a half we were together, but my admiration so increased that I could not think of saying farewell till some other day for another interview was fixed. This day was next day; and, not to dwell too long upon details, the same scene being again acted on the second occasion, I contrived to pass from two to four hours every day with Alice for a whole fortnight. I had never admired any girl so much, and felt that she would be both desirable and enviable as a wife. Of course our most frequent theme was the difficulties of our case. I candidly avowed my willingness, nay my intense desire to make her my wife; and it was resolved that I should in turn sue for the four consents of our parents, and that on failing to gain them we should become united without them. When present the sight of, when absent the thought of, her bright eyes, cherry lips, and gold and frizzy hair inspired my heart with a courage to encounter all obstacles, and jump over such as could not be removed. I have said I visited her for a fortnight. Why ended my visits then? The reasons were twofold; the return to town of her father-the return to town of her mother. The latter I was told by Alice was the advisable quarter wherein to commence the attack, as, her good will gained, that of her partner was certain. I wrote a note, giving my own name, and requesting an interview. My servant waited for an answer, and I was informed I might call the next day. Madam saw me; she was a round, punchy lady, and wore a voluminous

cap.

"You are doubtless curious," commenced I," to learn on what subject I am desirous of addressing you; but in the hope that the suddenness of the avowal may not astonish you, I at once, without circumlocution, am come to offer myself as the suitor of your daughter. Should I gain my own parents' consent I shall be enabled"

"Why whatever's come to the man! You need say no more. Whatever's put such a

с

66

"For Heaven's sake, my dearest Frederick, as you love me!"

"I must. I will."

These three promising interviews had taken place on three sequent days, and I felt convinced that, from the fourth I had, if possi

"Not if I can help it. I wouldn't for no consideration such stuff should come to his ears."

I left her, hurried home, and wrote to her husband. He also appointed the next day, and I was punctual. He was a mild, lengthy, man, I had almost written a scraggy one, and wore light brown knee-breeches, white cotton stockings, and half a yard of shoe on each foot. When I had spoken, and paused for a reply, he half said, half whispered, "I'm sure, sir, I don't know what to say to it. I'm sartin Mrs. . (naming his wife) would never hear of it. Besides I'm sartin your own father and mother wouldn't never hear of such a thing neither. I bear you individually no malice, though we have received most unmeritorious treatment from your house, but I can only say, I bear you no malice, in course, if they're agreeable, and Mrs.-(again pronouncing the disagreeable name) is agreeable, why I'm agreeable: least wise that is if Hallice is agreeable too."

“I thank you for this kindness. morning, sir."

to introduce such a theme to my father, yet I screwed my courage to the sticking-place, and, seizing a moment when he and I were taking our wine together after dinner, in less than a minute the murder was out.

"Let me look at you," said he, bending his face under the moon-lamp, and gazing at "You look sane enough. It must be that I cannot hear properly. Say it again ; say it again."

me.

And now then to gain the three consents (my parents' and her mother's) in the hopes the fourth (his own) would follow. The sway in the case of my parents was rather the reverse of that in the other quarter. My father's will gained, my mother I knew would not oppose; yet preferring the gentler to what I knew would be the more trying seene, I commenced with my mother.

"For Heaven's sake, my dear Frederick," she said, “ lay aside this foolish scheme. It is not a proper match for you.”

"But I love the girl."

66

Spare the threat, sir; I do not want to hear the rest. You must be aware that you have said enough to ensure obedience. I will recur to the subject no more— e-but (added I to myself,) on this day week make her my wife in spite of the whole four of you."

That night I hit on and arranged my plans; and on the next day I wrote to Alice, informing her of the very gratifying fact of my quadruple failure, reminding her of our alternative, and asking her if she had courage to fly. She wrote in answer that she was willing to submit herself wholly to my arrangements. 'Twas well: three more letters from me, and as many from her, and the affair was settled. In the first I informed her of the fact, that owing to my father's generosity, I was now in the receipt per quarter of a sufficient stipend to live comfortably, if not luxuriously, with her as my wife, and that I had, thanks to my pen and pencil, other sources of emolument which would considerably enlarge the little income alluded to, if continued, or even compensate its absence if withheld; that we should at any rate be

"exceeding snug," and that, with intense, mutual, and never-failing love, would surely suffice any rational thirsters after earthly happiness. To all this she said "content," and all that now remained for me was to conclude the definite arrangement. As she was totally unable, when her parents were in town, to achieve the slightest business without their knowledge, I urged in my next letter that a night flight would be necessary, and to save the time and trouble of making inquiries, arranging licences, and what not, our first destination must be Gretna. We should return almost immediately to undergo all needful forms, and in spite of the snubbing, entreaties, and commands of our parents, I entertained no doubt whatever but that they would all, on our return as undividable man and wife, “take up this mangled matter at the best." She answered that she was equally confident.

And thus then ran my last letter:"The night after next a post-chaise will be waiting in square. I shall come exactly at one o'clock. There must of course be no knocking at the door; do not even trust your maid, but be at your window that you may see me. Come down without noise and open the street-door. For the present we must have as little luggage as possible. I will carry whatever you may pack up the little way we shall have to walk from your door to the square. Till one on Wednesday night, farewell."

To this once more she writ "content," and I then set down my eternal happiness as a settled thing. It is not impossible that I should have shrunk from these desperate measures, but for the opposition I had encountered. I felt a triumph due to my selfimportance, and have since had reason to suppose that, had I never courted the four repulses I have recorded, my love might in time have died a natural death. The one day that intervened was completely occupied in scampering about the town to make some needful arrangements, collect certain funds, and order the chaise; also, in getting together what I needed at home, and in writing a letter to my father. In fact, I was in such a bustle, and had so completely settled every thing before the following day, that that stood before me with an almost frightful contrast of coolness and quiet. Having dismissed an untasted breakfast, I felt there was nothing but contemplation for me, till one at night. I felt vexed that I had not left myself an iota more to settle. That annoying feeling pervaded me, which disqualifies one from begin

ning any thing. I could not even raise my hand to take a book from the library, for my arm felt unnerved, and my brain empty, and incapable of receiving impressions. I could not summon energy to unlock my piano, or take up my flute or guitar. I paced about the drawing-room, sat on every chair and sofa, and looked out of every window. To dress and walk out was quite out of the question; my increasing apathy shrunk from such exertion. I took out my watch, and investigated its pattern and appendages as I never had done before. I opened it and examined, with appreciating eyes, its anatomy, and then looking once more at its dial, found that I had expended very little more than a minute by this resource. I felt so inclined to push the hands forward, that I should positively have done it but for the timely thought that such a manœuvre would not affect all other clocks and watches, nor the sun. An alternative at last struck mean odious one, and yet bearing with it its recommendation-that it was the sole one was its recommendation-this alternative was endurance. I flounced down upon a sofahummed the newest airs, and even some old ones-pulled a considerable number of cords from the tassel of the pillow on which I was lolling-read the titles of several books, celebrated and unknown, ancient and modern-wondered why their authors wrote them, and discovered for the first time that there was a very handsome and rather elaborate cornice round the top of the room. I next discovered also for the first time, that of two paintings which had always hung as a pair, and which had always struck me as a good match, one hung nearly a quarter of a foot lower than the other, and that the bows of the cords which sustained them were unpardonably dissimilar. I even tried to sleep, but could not, and at last began a remarkably pleasing train of reflections on all the difficulties and dangers of my case. It was not impossible that Alice's parents and mine might be as aware as ourselves of what we intended—would the post-chaise come punctually I wondered-the street door of our house might make a row when I closed it after me-it was just possible Alice might repent of her resolution, and shrink from her share of the fulfilment of our plans-the street door of her house might make a row when she closed it after her-impudent watchmen might interfere-one of her parents or mine might be taken so ill as to render our attendance in their rooms an indispensable dutythe postillion might be drunk and upset the

chaise. Such were a few of the ideas which I dwelt upon, and a black heaviness which soon obscured the atmosphere tended not to the creation of more joyous thoughts; pit, pat, whish, whish, pour, shower, drive came the rain, pock-marking the windows, and with a species of resolution in its manner that spake of determined long continuance. Disgust and anger at the weather led soon to the same feelings against nature, the world, and existence in general, till, to rouse myself from the utter melancholy into which I felt myself sinking, I started from the sofa whereon I was lolling-walked up and down the whole length of the drawing-room with a quick pace, while, to make my range as free as possible, I pushed or kicked out of the way whatever article of furniture was in the line I chose for my to-and-fro promenade. I now felt myself contemplating the coming adventure as a something which I must encounter, though, strange as it may seem, and long as I baffled the conviction, I felt that I had almost lost desire. I paced and paced, and strove to rouse myself into my former self, and to re-create the feelings which had led me thus far-but in vain; desire kept palpably dying and dying-still dying and dying, till it vanished into utter non-existence. I felt like an invalid (or, I should say, malade imaginaire) whose ailment has flown at the approach of the time destined for the operation which was to cure it. I became a lump of clay-of cold clay-I felt and knew that I had become so-a clod-a stock-a stone, in all but the morbid sensation which almost raged within me-the fierce determination to encounter whatever fate might have prepared for me at one at night. Again I gazed from the windows-pelt, pelt, splash, splash, came the pertinacious rain, and I began to hate myself that I was not what is vulgarly called "weatherwise." I remembered that a sailor of Penzance had told me as an infallible rule to look into the wind's eye," and now wondered what the devil he meant by it; he had explained, and I forgotten-and in vain I racked my brain to remember. My sole idea on the subject was, that I hoped the infernal rain would cease ere I commenced my adventurous pilgrimage. At last, at last, at last-I repeat the word thus to convey some notion of the tedious time that elapsed ere that period arrived-at last came dinner hour, and I yet again faced my parents. Food appeared odious to me-a something totally unnecessary to the enjoyment or sustaining of existence, and the divers worthy condiments wherewith my plate

was successively adorned, filled my heart with contempt, and my face with sneers. My parents marvelled, and grew inquisitive, but one thought and object pervaded me, and God knows how I answered them. This, however, I perfectly remember, that, blending with and superintending, as it were, all my other feelings, was an absolute and positive shame at the apathetic, the enigmatic state in which I found myself. I determined as a dernier ressort to qualify myself by an unwonted devotion to the decanters, and accordingly, at and after dinner, imbibed about the quadruple of what I ordinarily allowed myself. I was resolved to generate, by any available means, that excitement, that energy, which I had so fully and confidently expected would pervade and inspire me on this great occasion. But these artificial stimulants were utterly powerless: wine seemed changed to water for the sole purpose of thwarting me. Perhaps my potations rendered my heart yet more cold, and perceptions more dense, but these were their sole effects. Slowly, slowly, and lingeringly passed away dinner, dessert, tea-drinking, idling, leave-taking, and retiring, and, my parents being early people, I found myself free soon after eleven. I retired to my room to dress, and place my letter, but aware that these operations would not employ me till near one, I threw myself on my bed in the hope of demolishing the remaining tedious time in blessed unconsciousness, and my hope was realised. I remained sleeping, or at any rate half sleeping, till past twelve. I made my final preparations-placed my letter on a table-listened-the house was still-there was no sound whatever, not even of rain without; but as that might re-commence, I arrayed myself in an enormous circular cloak, which I also knew would be no objectionable travelling companion. I descendedopened the street door-and closed it with considerably less racket than I had expected. I had so contrived that my luggage was already in the chaise. I quickly sped towards Alice's street, but suddenly stopped; for I seemed to be such an unaccountable mass of inanity, that shame for my state, and wonder how to combat it wholly possessed me. There was one resource-more libations-libations in earnest. I would-I must make myself, no matter what the means, that which I felt I should be at such a time-at such a crisis. There were no hotels on my road, or had there been, they would not have answered my purpose. I had never in all my life been in a public-house, but the cause urged me, and