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“ Poor devil" “ Who?" “ Morton." “So he is. But most deservedly so, and quite unworthy of pity.”

“ For that very reason I do pity him. It is the villain, who falls in his own toils, and whose principles and motives have always been essentially bad: it is just such a wretch as Morton, who pleads most successfully for my pity. He cannot enjoy the retrospect of his brighter days, for he sees in them the seeds of his present misery ; neither dare he contemplate the prospect of the future; and thus driven back on both sides, and stripped of the pleasures of memory and hope, he is left to “eat his heart” in bitterness of spirit. Most vividly is the wisdom of that advice, which Polonius gave his son, proved by the end of such a man as Morton.

“ This more than all : to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou caust not then be false to any man." But far otherwise is it with the good man in misfortune. Hopo never forsakes him; while the past, although in that even for the best and wisest there must be something to regret, and which therefore teaches humility (no bad lesson by the way) affords the satisfaction of a mingling, however faint, of good intention. Yes you may smile as you please, I do pity Morton. Nay when I heard, as I passed through Naples, that he was in p'ison there for swindling, I could not help doing more.

« The Gods requite thee for it Harry. But in spite of your Jong speech, I cannot help thinking that he is scarcely fit for our pity, and still less for our assistance. His conduct to that sweet girl Nancy Watson was infamous. Nay I may say without any fear of being accused of hyperbole that to leave her in debt, and with child, wbile he followed an heiress to Geneva was devilish.”

“ So it was; but his sufferings have been devilish no less than his vices. To make the most of a metaphor ; he prepared bis own hell. He, as be almost always had done wheresoever he tried, gained the heart of her whom he followed, but circumstances again rendered his attempt abortive. His resources which he had lavished in the hope of deluding the friends of his intended victiin now failed, and as he never kept a friend longer than he found him of immediate use, he was driven to swindling, and the result you know. This I heard from a person who knew him, and who had suffered from his acquaintance, and from what he told me, I have learnt to pity Morton.

“ The Devil you have ! And I have learnt to consider you a marvellous specimen of the species, Man, and a much more so,

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of the genus, lover. There you sit defending-no-palliatingscarcely that :—but certainly pitying as thorough a miscreant as ever lived, one too who did you the worst turn wbich a man could do another, in estranging you from Julia Fulton, if all be true which I have heard concerning him since you left England.You pity, I say, this beast: (for beast he was in every thing but the capacity of mischief, and in that he was perfectly human) you pity him, while you neglect to frustrate bis handy works, by à reconciliation, which is now open to you with Julia, who I am sure, although I cannot prove it, (having my information from people interested in her welfare, and consequently according to our present philosophy, which rejects the belief of honest intention, not fair evidence) loves you. Yes loves you as sure eggs is eggs." Take one ; and own yourself a strange being."

Perhaps so” (said Crichton gravely; and not attending to the concluding sentence of his merry friend.) Perhaps so : But I feel that were I to renew my acquaintance, a scepticism would linger in my love, and blast its happiness. No: as I was going to England, on leave, I cannot do better than proceed, and that to-day."

Just at that moment Master Charles Fulton was announced; and so soon as he had seated himself with his hands tucked under his thighs, thereby displaying the truth of Bacon's assertion, that no youth can be comely except by pardon;" and began to feel at home, he said

“ Wasn't it rum that you should know me? How do you think I found out who you were ?"

« That I cannot guess."

“ Well I'll tell you.” And Master Charles began to swing backwards and forwards; his legs advancing to the retrograde of his head, and vice versa; as he said. “ Well you know I was sure that I'd seen your face before. But, do whatever I might, I could not tell where, until mama said something about my being quite a picture, when that word picture made me recollect, that, as Julia was packing up her drawings to come to France, out of a book, which I had never seen before, a portrait of a gentleman fell. I twigged it, and took it up, when she did blush so: my winky didn't she ? However I thought no more of it then; and might never again had I not seen you. My winky it certainly is very like you, although it looks younger. » Delmon looked at Crichton, who did not speak while the boy proceeded.

“ Well as soon as I thought of this picture, I cried that's prime mama, and ran, and got it before Julia knew what I was after ; and sure enough it was you. By Jingo! Didn't mama stare ? But poor Julia began to cry. So I gave ber the picture ; and tried to come round her. But she would not speak, and has not said ten words since. Nay, when I, thinking it was a case of sulks, locked the kitten in her work table just to tease her into a good humour, she never said a word, (unless you call a sort of mumble, speaking, while the tears rolled down her cheek, a sort of muttering about being the scorn of every body. By jingo she is certainly a rum touch. I wish I could make her angry.”

After which brotherly wish there was a pause for some moments, a silence, which made Master Charles begin to think that it was time to be off. However looking up at Crichton he exclaimed

" By Jingo, if you don't look about the eyes just as Julia does, I'll be flogged—just like a new fellow, when his mother leaves him at school for the first time, while she says “good bye d-e-a-r." Doesn't he Sir ?"

Delmon suppressed a laugh, while he answered, “I do not doubt it. But who painted this picture.”

“ Julia herself.”

“ Pray Crichton," asked his friend," when did you sit ?” Crichton however could make no answer, but rose, and left the room.

“ Well that's what I call rum,” said little Charles. But Delmon led him to talk about his school pranks, and so to forget every thing that had passed, even the tears of his poor sister, before Crichton returned. When the latter did so, he was apparently composed ; and observed,

" It was as you said very odd that you should find my name out in such a manner. Did no one else know that your sister had such a picture.”

O, certainly nobody." "Shall we start for England ?" asked Delmon.

Crichton did not answer. But after a long silence, which seemed of all things to agree least with Master Charles, that young gentleman remarked.“ By jingo I wish I was back again to tell Whistling Joe what a rum country this is, and what rum people I have met.”

« If that be the case” (said Delmon) “ you will perhaps accompany me to see the wild beasts, and whatever else we can find worthy of having a description conveyed to your friend Whistling Joe.”

"0! that I'm sure I will” was the ready answer when Delmon prepared for the walk; while his friend did so to visit the Fultons.

We dare not attempt to describe the meeting between Crichton, and Julia, for we fear that our readers have had already too much of the MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER ; and we consequently hasten to lose her in the wife. It is sufficient for us to say, that the French Champion had not quite recovered of his wound before Captain Crichton," sparserat nuces,”—had sold his com

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mission,-and the lovely Julia « Veneri donaverat pupas,"—had burnt her Album.

All were gay

and happy on the bridal morning Mrs. Fulton told every body that Mr. Fulton bad a great opinion of Capt. Crichton, and that he was a vast favorite of hers; which little Charles thought very rum; while Delmon, who could, after a certain fashion," awake to ecstacy the living lyre” presented to the bride the following hymeneal:

Thine eyes are bright, and beautiful ;

Thy cheek is sunny now;
Life's fairest flowers strew thy path;

Love's sunshine wreathes thy brow.
Oh ever thus

may pleasure be
Before thee, and above:
May Angels guard thy happiness,

And heaven bless thy love.
May children, like their sire, learn

About thy knces to pray:
May all be good, and dutiful,

And none be snatched away:
That none may for their country fight,

I do not heaven implore:
But that not one be left to pine

Upon a distant shore ;
That He, whose arm is ever strong,

Where others find a grave,
Shield from all harmful destiny

Thy beantiful, and brave."
May never tear-drop dim thine eye,

Unless for other's grief;
And then it will be heavenly
To give thine eyes

For, if celestial drop may be

From human source distilled
It is the tear from woman's eye,

Which sympathy hath filled.
But lifetime's hopes, and lifetime's joys

Were never made for rest;
And thou ev'n in thy happiness

Can’st never feel quite blest,
Save from assurance that thou may'st,

In other worlds, renew
That love, which thou hast learnt in this,
Immortal, pure,

and true :
That thou may'st know, where hearts are read

And doubt may never come,
That love, whose earnest thou hast here,

Made perfect at its home.
For, though from home it learn to bloom,

Like some exotic flower
All, who would owe it thoroughly,

Must seek it in its bower,

And that sweet friend, is surely heaven.

In heaven then, may’st thou
Prolong through all eternity

The covenant made now! In conclusion, gentle reader, we may add, that there is now living in - shire, one happy couple, who take in the Calcutta Magazine, and about whoin slander never whispered one word of dispraise, unless the rumour may be considered such, which reports that a woman, who plays with their children, and inhabits a cottage upon their estate, was once no better than she should have been ; and that some people for their part, are surprised, that the Captain can suffer their lady, or his lady, to condescend to take so very reprehensible a concern, in the welfare of such a person, as she certainly does. For such conduct, some people are charitable enough to say, displays a congeniality of taste, and moral feeling in the lady. However, it is to be hoped, that these mightily correct people will be pardoned

“ Their bad hearts for their worse brains ;"! especially as all they have hitherto said, has had no influence upon the conduct of the still beautiful Julia, who continues to display better principle then when she figured as The MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER.



There is a bower, there is a tree,
There is a greenwood, dear to me ;
There is a blossom in that bower
Hath cheered my bosom's loneliest hour,

Beneath that tree there is a seat
Where Mary makes her fond retreat ;
And in that greenwood, lone but dear,
She sheds full oft the tender tear.

There is a rosebush in a grove,
I planted for my winsome love,
I dreamt I saw its green leaves fade,
Unnoticed by the careless maid,

It was a dream of falsehood, --she
Hath ne'er forgot my rose, or me ;
For in that bower she sits all day,
And sighs for him that's far away.

R. C. C.

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