love the widow, don't you ?"—" I do."—" Do you know any thing of her history?"-" Not a syllable."'-"Of her situation or character?"—"Nothing-perhaps you do.”—“ I do, enough to satisfy me. She is young, healthy, virtuous, and beautiful, with one child—" -"Hang the child, Abijah."-" Joseph, you are wrong; that child would be a comfort to you."-" To me!"-"Yes, to you, if you marry the widow. What are you rubbing your hands for?" --“ Marry the widow! What on earth do you mean?” cried I, with a flutter of joy, and a thrill at the very idea. "Hear me through, Joseph. You have come to ask me what I would do in your case?"-"You are right, I have." "Well, were I you, I would marry her."—" But why don't you marry her yourself?"—"I! for three reasons. "What are they?"-"In the first place, I am not you."—"Good-the next."—" In the next place, she would not have me.”—“ Pho!" said I; though, to tell you the truth, reader, 1 thought as he did, notwithstanding the beautiful widow was for ever sounding his praises to me, whenever we were alone together. But I could always see a good way into a mill-stone; and whether she romped with her boy before my half smothering him with kisses, or talked of her preserver, that heroic man-that heroic Abijah, I longed to say, but I was afraid, there was no laughing at such a man before such a woman, I could see through the whole. "But in the third place," continued I. "Well, in the third place, I am not worthy of her."—" How so?"-" But you are, my friend "—his rich, bold voice quavered here, and I began to feel rather dismal—“you are; and my advice to you is, to lose no time in securing that woman: you deserve her; you are young and handsome, wealthy and rich. Take her: I would have you go to the beautiful widow, and offer yourself to her; and, if she is the woman I take her to be, you will be able to bring out as much of her history and character as you will have any desire to know. There, there-go, and Heaven

speed you."

I went. I offered myself to the widow, and was flatly, though kindly refused. That was about as much as I could well stomach, and I do not know that ever I should have got over it, but for a little gratuitous intelligence, of a nature to make me almost thankful for my disappointment. The widow was no widow. The child was a thing, with all its beauty, for the mother to be ashamed of. I went straightway to my hero. Abijah Ware," said I, "such and such are the facts," relating the whole. "And how did you learn all this?" asked Abijah. "Out of her own mouth," said 1. "And what have you concluded to do, Joseph ?"-"To give her up."-" You are a fool, Joseph."-" How so; you would not have

me

66

"-"Yes, I would," interrupting me, "where will you find

such another woman? a woman of such exalted virtue ?"—" Vir tue!" said I,—"Was that a sneer!" said Abijah. "It was," 1 cried, lifting my voice and braving the look with which the inquiry was made, as if what I felt were a thing to brag of "Then," said Abijah, "then you never loved her. You would weep sooner than sneer at such virtue, if you ever had."-"But I did love her."—"You did? then there is but one other hypothesis for me. "Well, out with it."-" She has refused you."-I fell back abashed, I dropped my eyes; I could not bear the solemn overpowering reproach of his." Very true," said I. "One word more. Did you offer yourself to her after she told Why do you ask ?”—“ I ask it for your sake; for yours, my dear friend. I long to have you one of us; but I fear you want the courage. It requires prodigious manhood to be a Utilitarian.”— "Well, be it so, I did not offer myself after this; but I did before."

you this ?"—

"I pity you. How you have rewarded her candour; how gloriously you have repaid her truth! She might have deceived you, but she forbore. She proved herself worthy of you, and you abandoned her accordingly."-- His emotion surprised me. He got up,

and walked the floor with a tread that shook the whole house."You do not understand the matter,” said I—," She refused me before I knew this, and told me her story afterwards, not so much as a reason for it, I do believe as to convince me of what she called her good faith, respect and gratitude."—"Young man," said Abijah Ware, "you are throwing away that which would be of more worth to me, and to you, if you were a Utilitarian instead of a sentimentalist, than the great globe itself, though it were a solid chrysolite. I beseech you, once for all, I pray you, I implore you to reconsider this matter."-" Impossible," said I, "think of the usages of the world?"—"What have you to do with the usages of the world?"— "Aye, but the prejudices of society."—"True, prejudices and usages are all to be weighed. Look to what you gain, as well as what you lose, by running counter to them, and whatever they are, and whether well or ill founded, act accordingly. That is the part of the wise man. But enough; will you think better of this? Will you not try to recover that woman ?"-" I dare not; we should be miserable. Hereafter, were we thrown abroad into society, every little neglect, every trifle, which, if her history were untainted, would be laughed at, or pitied, or overlooked, would be to her peace and to mine like the bite of a rattlesnake."—" Very true, but still, still, my friend- "_"Why do you urge me? Even you yourself, were you in my case, would not be able to throw off the prejudices you complain of."-"We shall see. Do you give her up?"--" I do."—" You will not marry her?"-" Never.”——“ Then,

by Heaven, I will!"—" You!" said I, with what I meant for a most withering sneer, though, to tell the truth, I could not help thinking of her praises, and of that summer afternoon at the bedside of the boy-the little wretch, he is alive now-when she dropped upon her knees, and wept upon his great ugly three-decker of a hand. "At least," cried he, "I will offer myself to her before I sleep; and if she refuse me""If!" said I. "I will make her independent for life.""I congratulate her," said I, "her wealth may hereafter make her a desirable match." He glowed, and I I cut and run.

P.S. He kept his word. He offered himself, and the great steam-engine of a fellow is now the husband of the fair widow. I often see him lumbering along to church with the beautiful Mary Roberts-I never mean to call her Mary Ware while I breathedangling at his elbow, like a-like a-like a rose on a patch of thistle and furze-adrift.

THE AMERICAN INDIAN.

(FROM THE TATLER, NO 241.)

He was fresher from the hand
That formed of earth the human face,
And to the elements did stand
In nearer kindred than our race.
In many a flood to madness tost,
In many a storm has been his path,
He hid him not from heat or frost,
But met them, and defied their wrath.

Then were they kind-the forests, there
Rivers and still waters paid

A tribute to the net and spear

Of the red ruler of the shade.

Fruits on the woodland branches lay,
Roots in the shaded mould below;

The stars looked forth to teach his way,
And still earth warned him of the foe.

A noble race; but they are gone
With their forests, wide and deep;
And we have built our homes upon
Fields where their generations sleep.
Their fountains slake our thirst at noon,

Upon their hills our harvest waves,
Our lovers woo beneath their moon,

And all still pay a tribute to their graves.

A STEAM-BOAT ADVENTURE.

I REMEMBER (I have reason to remember) it was a clear day in spring, when I was sailing down the Firth of Forth in an oldfashioned steam-boat. The steam-boat season had not fairly set in, and there were not in the vessel above a dozen passengers altogether. I was of the steerage; and, after my ears had been abundantly ravished by an execrable fiddler, I seated myself on deck, and taking from my pocket a small volume which I had brought with me, (a volume of farces it was-an excellent traveller's guide and companion,) I endeavoured to compose myself for solemn and profitable meditation. Just then, a young lady, dressed in a light gray pelisse, issued from the cabin, and began to pace the empty deck with a grace, of which it would be folly to hope that any one who did not see it, could form an adequate conception. One glance discovered a figure of the most delicious symmetry, and a face of the most attractive expression, beautifully blended with a sweet dignity, that told in a moment she belonged to the ancient and the noble. felt, all at once, that the dreams of youth were not vanity-that the vision which had haunted my enraptured musings was walking, in flesh and blood, visibly before me! But although struck, as they say, "all of a heap," I suppressed my admiration, and contented myself with stealing a glance now and then, in the discreetest manner possible, all the time affecting to be in a brown study, poring over my book. Once our eyes met, and I perceived a slight smile on her lip. Perhaps (this was an after-thought) I was holding the book upside down, or perhaps turning the leaf backwards; and, in either case, she could not choose but conclude, that I was endeavouring to excite the envy of a wretched blackamoor who lay on the other side of the deck, by pretending that I could decipher the English alphabet.

I

When she had returned to the cabin, which the chilness of the air soon occasioned her to do, I discovered that I had not read a word of Foote, and even felt inclined to pronounce him stupid. I became fully persuaded, at least, of the folly of carrying a volume in one's pocket, when one might, by taking a cabin passage, have a handsome little library at one's disposal. And then the volume I had brought was so remarkably shabby! Might I not drop it into the Forth, and step down to the cabin, and see what books were to be got there? But the captain, most unfortunately, has already taken the fares, and it would look signally mean (would it not?) to sneak down now, like a discarded or retired flunkey, playing the gentleman, with no other effect than that of rendering himself an

object of universal derision. Was the young lady alone, or was there no one gallant enough to offer her his arm? Perhaps some shrivelled, antiquated aunt sits by the stove like a melancholy cat, and would not venture to hobble up stairs, even although sweet Juliet kissed her forehead beseechingly! Or perhaps some hideous male monster held out his horrible paw, and begged, in fetid breath, the honour of accompanying her; but SHE, with a look of dignified scorn, worthy of Juno, queen of heaven, paralysed the hateful wretch, and stepping out in her own loveliness, walked the gay galley, like a solitary wild-deer, in maiden meditation, fancy free!!

Ruminating thus, the captain approached, and I resolved to question him. "Few passengers to-day, captain ?"-" More tomorrow, I hope."-"True; always improving at this season. How stands your cabin ?"—" There-as usual."—" Good; but I mean, many passengers ?"-" Never so slack; only one, upon my soul." -"What! the young lady who was just now on deck?"-"The same-a daughter of some nabob, I'se warrant, ready to leap into the arms of any handsome fellow who has the heart to say, Jump, my dear! Bless your eyes and buttons, sir, is it not a shame that you, and the likes of you, should take up your howff among fiddlers, and chapmen, and drovers, and gingerbread-jocks, when, for the sake of a shabby sixpence more, you might be decently cracking with some fine lady such as this, making love and your fortune all at the same time, not to speak of making your trip-eh ?"-" You are right, captain-you are right; and, as I hope for mercy, never while I live shall I put my head again into such a hovel of abomination as that steerage of yours, the filth and squalor of which have made me sick unto death."-" Hooly, hooly, good sir; our steerage is not so bad as that comes to. It may hold up its head with any on the frith. But, as I was saying, it is strange the likes of you should take a fancy for it, in preference to our cabin. The lady has more gumption.' "" Is she really solitary ?"-"As solitary as a squirrel in a wood. I caught her endeavouring to leap over a chair."—"How romantic!"-" You may say so, though she has good common-sense too; for she scarcely looked at our beautiful calf Lady of the Lake, or the fine new novel called Secrets of the Heart, but asked for the Edinburgh Almanack, to see, it is likely, how the tides stood, or perhaps to learn the captains' names of the steam-boats plying on the rivers Forth and Clyde."."-"Surely not!" -"Well perhaps to look the army list; some sweetheart of a lieutenant-eh?"?" I tell you, captain, I must go down-I mean, I will take the cabin during the rest of the passage, for I am sick of your steerage." ."-" That's so far lucky; it will not be deserted