But her, it appeared to tranquillise—and he stepped nigher. She manifested no cognisance of his approach-uttered not a syllable-played-on -each bar bringing accession of calmness—till, with the dying cadence, she reeled off the stool, and fainted.

Sensible to the futility of summoning sympathy-Emile, by sprinkling with cold water, ensured her resuscitation, however slowly.

Hours elapsed-centuries to him; who stirred not from beside her-sustaining the wasted carcass, and revolving possibilities of redemption. Now and then, she unconnectedly emitted whispers-whose all-incongruous import drove him upon such burthensome revery, that, consulting his watch at length, he could scarce comprehend it being but two o'clock.

"Where am I?" she would ejaculate—now in French, now in English :-"And who-whereoh, what a horrid dream! I must not perish: it would-it should-Hah! there they are -Oh, merciful God! regard my wringings-racked heart-tortured flesh-burning brain!-Annihilate-oh! or leave me these, and spare me that!” -then, heaving a prolonged respiration, “Ah!— see!-they're gone!"

Delinquent! not that which lulls the loftier harlot had repose for thee!-Ape of thy million worshippers, thou too, Slumber! less patronisest

the needy cheat,

The poor and friendless villain, than the great!

Finally, more lucid, she told of impending starvation-absolute destitution of a coin-and suicide's perpetual purpose, with a constant deficiency of courage: "I cannot now of my crimes-my strugglings; but oh! I do merit pity. Three years of damnation, without a single straw to extricate me!-You loved, Emile-(but no!" she exclaimed, as self-debating-" not now-not now -no blandishments!) But save me-save

Interdicting further commune for she was too agitated to recount, and himself to hearkenhe noted her private lodging, deposited his purse with her, and prepared to go.

Farewell, then, dear Mary Travers," said he, kindly, "for a while. Shall you not henceforth have cheerier days?"

She mechanically nodded-but the intellects were wandering.

observation.

He delayed for a moment's

• Pope.

She reclined-rigidly motionless-unaware of his presence with back towards him. All was hush. Hark!-a choked groan.-And nowcompressing the purse with insatiate and nervous haste and tightening it strenuously to her bosom-"O God! O God!" she cries, in the keen sensibility of irremediable wretchedness"I have nothing to live for-and die I dare not!"

Human sufferance could bear no further, and distractedly he darted out.

"For the virtuous," he exclaimed, "there is no need of hell: and for the vicious-that they endure on earth is assuredly hell sufficient."

7

No. 5.-Our Oxonian Buffo.

He frights men out of their estates,

And breaks through all law-nets, made to curb ill men, As they were cobwebs. No man dares reprove him. Such a spirit to dare, and power to do, were never Lodg'd so unluckily.

MASSINGER.-A New Way to Pay Old Debts.

Was he awake? Did he actually behold St. Leger? This Berkeley, with a complacency never-to-be-enough-extolled, had extended his graceful figure along three chairs-a flask of his favorite Malay confronting and, to argue from the amorous leer wherewith he recompensed it, assuaging him also.

"Tros Tyriusve?"" cried he, immersed in classic reminiscences and vinous cogitation.

But Villiers leapt to the letter on the mantelpiece it had the Hâvre-mark: the surety of

paternal affection? the herald of rapture with Grace Evrett? From the Post-master. No mail for Villiers had been addrest to that office.

What did this portend?

"The lot of Midas be mine!" exclaimed Berkeley, "if you're not a cool 'one-ner !'" "Pardon me,” replied Emile, with uneasy abstraction—" you-you were good enough to

say

Nothing of notable value-only that you'd got a billet-doux.”

Recalled to himself, confusedly he crushed it. "Well-and so-How! why, I deemed you elsewhere. Has Ma'm'selle been rigorous ?"

"What! Rochefoucault? 'La sévérité des femmes est un ajustement qu'elles ajoutent à leur beauté'-the bustle which they add to their beauty?-No: but I couldn't scorn your example," said he, drolly-" so, merely 'lapp'd' my charmer in Elysium' for fifty-nine minutes, and fled, like a Round-head."

"Indeed?" said Villiers, with unsupprest sarcasm-"you're of infinite self-denial."

"That's my foible!" responded Berkeley; "but, told I truly to what extent, you'd 'laugh consumedly.'"