alone was on him, leaving him no consciousness save of the burning, intolerable misery that possessed him.

As he had never loved, so he had never suffered until now; his wild, adventurous career in camps, and cities, and deserts, had never been touched by any sort of grief, and this fell on him with all the vaster desolation, because he had come there in the gladness of the morning, full of faith, of hope, of eager delight, and of unquestioning expectation. He stood in the scorch of the noonday heat, stupified, the glare of sun and sea unfelt in the fiery agony that had seized him.

The little gilded caïque, a glittering toy of azure and white and gold, was rocking at his feet, where it was moored to the landing-stairs; trifles link thought to thought, and with the memory of that first enchanted hour when he had floated with her down the serene and silvery Bosphorus water, he remembered the warning that she had given him-the warning "not to lie under the linden.”

The warning had been-she had said-for his sake, not her own; was it for his that she had left him now? She had implied clearly that some sort of peril, some threatening of danger, must await him with her friendship; was it to save him from these that she had left him thus? Then the grand humility in him that was integrally a part of his nature, as his lofty pride of race was towards men, subdued the bitter sense of her cruelty: what was he more to her than any other to whom she gave her gracious courtesies, that he should look for recollection from her? He owed her is life;-but that debt lay on him, it left no claim to her. What was there in him that he could hope in their brief intercourse to have become any dearer to her than any other chance-met acquaintance of the hour? He could not upbraid her with having smiled on him one hour to forsake him as a stranger the next; for with the outset she had bade him leave her unknown.

Hot, glazing tears, the first that had ever come there since as a child he had sobbed over his young mother's grave, rushed into his eyes, shutting out in a blind haze the sunlit stretch of the sparkling seas and the rich flower colouring around him, where the Cashmere roses and the Turkish lilies bloomed in untrained luxuriance. The sea had no freedom, the flowers no fragrance, the green earth in its early summer no beauty for him ;-he only felt that let him spend loyalty, fidelity, love, and life and peace upon her as he would, he might never be one shadow nearer to her than he was now, he might never touch her to one breath of tenderness, never move her to one pang of pity. His strength was very great, great as Samson's of old; he had wrestled with the gaunt northern bear in the cold of a Scandinavian night, he had fought with ocean and storm in the madness of a tropical tempest, he had closed with the African lion in a fierce embrace, and wrenched the huge jaws apart as they closed on their prey; he had prevailed in these things by fearless force, by giant might but now, in his weakness and his misery, he could have flung himself down on the tawny sands and wept like a woman for the hopes that were scattered, for the glory that was dead.

:

"Geh! Ich diene nicht Vasallen!"

:

he had said, a few short summer days ago and now he was the slave of a slave, beyond resistance or redemption, for he was the vassal of his passion.

Sept.-VOL. CXXXV. NO. DXXXVII.

H

WIDOW DALLAS.

AN IRISH TALE.

III.

THE second day after Mrs. Dallas's arrival at Charlesfort there was a large dinner party there, and a great many of the gentry of the country were present. There was an elderly gentleman, whose principal object in settling in the country had been to introduce the Scotch style of agriculture: the draining by means of clay pipes laid out in lines underground; the farming by machinery, both in mowing and thrashing-doing it on a large scale; and the principle of putting a stop to the cottier system of allowing the class of labourers who abound in Ireland to settle in their mud cabins on his estate. He had been successful in paying away numbers of families, who had emigrated to America; and throughout the country his estates might be known by the unroofed and deserted villages, and several recusant tenants, who had been deficient in payment, or were unwilling to be ejected, had had their houses taken down bodily, and the heaps of stones, the "disjecta membra" of what had been dwelling-places, stood in many spots as silent monuments of his arbitrary acts, and, some said, tyrannical use of his power. He had himself, in the speculating spirit of a Scotchman, built a large misshapen building, with plenty of rooms in it, and designed it for an hotel, in the expectation of a neighbouring watering-place being thronged with visitors; but, shortly after he had completed the building, the watering-place lost its popularity, and he took up his residence in the building along with his family-his wife and daughter, both of whom were at the dinner-party. He looked like a man that was much disappointed in life, and his hirsute adornments reminded one especially of the description given in Virgil of the grim ferryman that poets write of-" Cui plurima mento, canities inculta jacet."

There was also a gentleman who came with his five sisters from a place in the neighbourhood. He had the air of a man of fashion, but his features were marked by the strongest stamp of fastidiousness and discontent, as if he seemed to think existence itself an immense bore, and unmitigated disgust seemed the prevalent expression of his countenance. That languid, indifferent Beau Brummelism in retirement, which does not even deign to lisp a monosyllable, is sometimes observable in the elderly country gentleman, who has had nothing of moment to engage his mind or affection, and, except farming, no earthly pursuit during the whole course of his life, but this man, being a banker, might have been expected to contribute more than he did to the information if not to the amusement of the dinner-party; and one of the officers who had the good fortune to sit next one of his sisters at dinner, said that the extent of his exertions, moral and physical, from seven o'clock till nine, at which time the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing-room, was to take an orange from a dish in front of him and cut it across, and that he was positive he did not open his lips during the whole of the aforesaid time. Happily for the party,

amongst them there were other guests who were more lively and more pleasantly engaged, and who made themselves more interesting; and very different, indeed, was the style of Major Hargrave, who was seated next Mrs. Dallas, to whom he had been introduced by Mrs. Moore. Many persons say that high-bred people never converse at a first interview with ease and fluency, but rather hang back until a complete knowledge of one another allows of their cordial interchange of sentiment. But I cannot help thinking that our neighbours on the Continent are much wiser in their generation so far as regards this point of etiquette than we are, and I do not see the least advantage in a person who has anything particular to say remaining tongue-tied, neither did Major Hargrave when he found himself seated next one of the most interestinglooking persons whom he had ever recollected to have seen. He asked her if she was acquainted with the people who were assembled at table, and she replied that she was. She told him the names of most of the ladies and gentlemen, and asked him if he liked his present quarters. He replied, that so far as the quarters and the country went, he could not say much in their praise, but he thought, perhaps, that the circumstance of being in such a pleasant neighbourhood might reconcile him to his sojourn in it; that the chief resource in such places for most military men was sport, but he really did not see why military men should not also employ their time in other pursuits a little more intellectual.

the

Situated near the extremity of the table, and at some distance from very select part of the company, and separated from them by two soi-disante young ladies, who did not feel disposed to break silence, but who reserved their satirical remarks for the benefit of their own sex when the ladies retired to the drawing-room, and as they had opposite them the doctor and his wife, there was nothing to hinder their tête-à-tête, and as they proceeded talking, they found the conversation of each other much to their mutual taste. Hargrave thought himself well off to have for a companion a lady who had been married, as-he found it invariably to be the case in the different places which he visited-such a lady is always more at her ease than the blooming Miss, however charming she may be, unless, indeed, she be past the age of blushes. But "the mind the music breathing from her face," the calm spirit of sweet concord which marked her words, the engaging amiability which she used in expressing herself with regard to any person who was mentioned, and the intelligence that she showed in her remarks when they talked of indifferent affairs, captivated him very much. He found her conversation interesting without the slightest personality, and witty without an apparent show of ostentation. They talked of different countries which he had resided in, and she was glad to have the opportunity of hearing the remarks of a man who saw things as a general observer without the pedantry of a bookmaker or the bitterness of a political partisan.

It was just then that time so remarkable in the history of Ireland when O'Connell was agitating the country on the subject of the repeal of the Union, and Mrs. Dallas, who heard of the proceedings of parties in the different districts throughout the island, told Major Hargrave that she thought it fortunate that government had sent troops in such numbers all through the land, as she felt very apprehensive of its being disturbed. Major Hargrave, however, did not think there was any probability of

disturbances taking place; that the principal matter that was likely to engage the military was the still-hunting, which they were sometimes called out to aid in on the mountains. "This takes them," said the major, "sometimes through bogs, over hills, heather, fern, and thickets, and always of the darkest nights, sometimes when it is raining, and most frequently their pursuit lies through the most unfrequented and intricate localities. It argues a very lawless spirit in the people that they should give themselves the trouble of making illicit spirits, for which I should suppose they were very insufficiently repaid by what they sell it for, besides running the risk of imprisonment."

Mrs. Dallas was of opinion that the people were, generally speaking, of very irregular habits. Major Hargrave said that he had always heard so, and that most of the officers disliked the idea of being quartered in Ireland, but that it fell to the lot of many to pass a great part of their service there; that throughout the country there were parties of the military, more or less strong, stationed at every place where there was the means of accommodating them, and that he himself, with five other officers, four of whom were now sitting at table, had been at his present quarters more than a month. One benefit of a military life, he imagined, was the number of countries which it gives one an opportunity of visiting; that he had some months ago returned from India, and as he was allowed leave he chose to travel overland, as it was called, but really the voyage took him by the Indian Ocean, and on to Egypt by the Red Sea; that he had passed Ceylon, Cochin, Socotra, landed at Aden, and thence on to Jiddha-where he had an opportunity of seeing Arab life; had left the vessel at Cosseir when they arrived there, and crossing the Desert to Thebes, had been delighted with seeing the wonders of that most ancient of cities, where the ruins of Carnac, the tombs of the kings, Medinet Abou, and other no less remarkable places, render it, he thought, better worth seeing than any place in the world; that he had passed on through Cairo, seen the Pyramids, and afterwards took a French steamer to Malta from Alexandria, and proceeding from thence to Italy, had made his way across Europe, lingering at Rome, Florence, Switzerland, and Paris as long as it would take him to see what was to be seen, and then came home. He said that no one could think of giving an idea of the wonders of Rome, and the beauties of some other places in Italy, by describing them in words, but that once in his life every man ought to visit Rome. Mrs. Dallas had no doubt that it might be well for a man's instruction once in his life to see Rome, but that he might be in danger of being led away by the fascinating influence of the ceremonies observed by the Roman Catholic Church, with their beautiful strains of music, and their superb paintings, frescoes, and the grandeur of their churches and paraphernalia of their worship. Major Hargrave said that at first view the sight of all these was very imposing, and indeed quite entrancing so far as appearance went, and he knew that the priests left no art untried to render them fascinating, but that to one who listened to other Italians speaking of the Pope and of the religion, the impression would be that the general mass of the community had not the slightest vital feeling of respect for it. Nevertheless, it was certain several people from England, and those also of the highest rank-some of them noblemen-had been led away by the machinations of the priests to forsake their own religion and

turn to Catholicism. It was not the attraction of the ceremonies that captivated the senses, but the cunning arguments of the advocates in their cause which held the sway over the minds of those who had been thus misled.

66

While Major Hargrave was speaking to Mrs. Dallas, he recalled to his mind a picture of a Madonna by Garafolo, a representation which, unlike most Madonnas, made her a biondina, which so exactly reminded him of her own face, that he was almost on the point of saying so. She was certainly, he said to himself, a most exquisite specimen of a fair beauty. He then thought of the sweetness of her voice, which he was forcibly reminded of just at that time by hearing that of his opposite neighbour, the doctor's wife, Mrs. Hines, whose intonation, strongly Hibernian, resembled a whine, rather than an articulate pronunciation, as she spoke to the lady next to her, saying, Ach, now, shure you're not in aarnest!" This made him think of an opinion which he had heard some time before advanced by a friend of his, who, speaking of the society in Ireland, said: "With a few very pleasant exceptions, there are two classes of society amongst all the gentry whom you meet: one which freezes you with the chilling reserve of silence that shy people are remarkable for, and the other which suffocates you with the forwardness of vulgarity." So, when Major Hargrave heard this lady speak to her next neighbour, who had ventured on a communication, after a silence of nearly an hour, in a very low and measured tone, the observation was recalled to his mind. For the remark which the young lady had made to her was said in such a piano, soft, reserved manner, that it could not possibly have been heard by any other person at table, but was evidently of a somewhat important kind, and also the speaker must have been well acquainted with the fair Hibernian lady whom she addressed. Soon after this, the lady who was highest in rank present received a sort of telegraphic sign from Mrs. Moore, which is the usual prelude to a general departure of ladies, and the ladies all rose, and Major Hargrave was left also by his fair companion.

It was

When the gentlemen were left to themselves, there ensued a series of conversation, of which the principal topic was the state of the country, and there were several stories told of the horrors committed by Ribbonmen, they having been instigated by low designing men, and connived at by priests. One gentleman told a story, which indeed has since been corroborated, of what happened in one of the midland counties. of a lady who was residing in the country with a family of three children, and all of them very young, the eldest not more than eight, two boys and a girl. She was a widow, and her husband had been dead some years, but was a man who had made himself famous as a police magistrate during the great rebellion in 1798, and consequently was very obnoxious to the peasantry, especially the Ribbonmen. There was a young lady of about nine years old who was staying on a visit at the house. She was the daughter of a gentleman living in the neighbourhood. Just two days before she arrived, they had engaged a new servant as a cook, a middleaged woman. One afternoon, about half-past five o'clock, the children were all playing in the drawing-room up-stairs, and one of them threw a ball across the room out of the window, which fell into the garden. Then the little girl who had just come to the house as a guest ran down into the garden, and looked near the place where she supposed the ball had