66 tlemen I had lately been accustomed to meet. | exactly like those which I have always expeBeyond a "beg your pardon, I fear I 'm very rienced when visiting Aunt Horsingham; much in your way, accompanied by such a the moat alone is enough to give one the vivid blush as can be performed only by a blues," but in addition to that, thick red-haired man, the Squire did not venture horse-chesnuts grow up to the very windows, on any communication, either with me or my and dark Scotch firs shed a gloom all over aunt; and with the latter's lecture fresh in the Park. Dangerfield is one of those places my mind, I did not, as may be supposed, that seem always to be in the shade. How dare to take the initiative by dropping my the strawberries ever ripen, or the flowers gloves, or pretending I could n't pull up the ever bloom, or the birds ever sing there, is window, or any other little lady-like man- to me a mystery. Outside there are dark œuvre which lays the foundation of a tem- walks, and yew edges, and cypresses, and porary intimacy, and often furnishes one here and there a copper beech, with lawns with an agreeable hour's conversation. I that are never mown, and copses that are can not see why one should sit " mum op-never thinned, to say nothing of that stagposite the same person for miles, merely because one has never been introduced. When we arrived at length at the Dangerfield station, where Lady Horsingham's emblazoned coach and fat horses were in waiting for us, the Squire," who was here treated with a deference bordering on idolatry, got out too. He made an involuntary motion with his hand, as though he would have taken his hat off, and wished us "good morning," but his shyness got the better of him, and he disappeared from the platform, entangled amongst his dumb favorites, with a blush which was visible even at the back of his head, where the tips of his ears met "How do you do, Kate?" said she, putting the rim of his white hat. As we toiled up two of her cold bony fingers into my hand. the sandy lane leading from Dangerfield sta-"I'm afraid you will find it rather dull here tion to Dangerfield park, we were overtaken by a smart high dog-cart, drawn by a clever raking-looking bay mare, and driven by the owner of the freckles, the pointers, and the white hat. “ Bachelor, my dear," said Aunt Deborah, as he whisked by, "and not at all a bad-looking man, either." "How do you know he's a bachelor, aunt?" I naturally inquired. nant moat, with its sombre and prolific vegetation; whilst within, black oak wains coting, and heavy tapestry, and winding staircases, and small deep-set windows, and oddly-shaped rooms, with steps at the door like going down into a bath, and floors considerably up and down hill, and queer recesses that frighten one out of one's wits to go into, form altogether a domicile that would tame the wildest Merry-Andrew in a fortnight into as staid and sober and stupid a personage as the veriest Lady Superior could desire. Aunt Horsingham received us as usual with a freezing smile. after London; but it is wholesome for young people to be occasionally sobered a little." Aunt Horsingham is tall and thin, with a turned-up nose, rather red at the point, a back that never stoops, and a grim smile that never varies. She dresses in bright colors, affecting strange and startling contrasts, both of hues and material. Her hands are always cold, and seldom clean, and she has sundry uncomfortable notions "Common sense, my dear," replied Aunt about damping the spirits of youth and Deborah, sententiously. "I judge of people checking the exuberance of its gayety, which by their belongings; no lady could get into render her a perfect terror and bugbear to that dog-cart without dirtying her dress the rising generation. When I was a little against the wheel; and if he had a wife, thing, laughing, prattling, and giggling as that handsome bay horse would go with children will, an admonishing look from my another in her carriage instead of his. Be- aunt, with a gaunt finger held aloft, and a sides, he would n't be so fond of his point- cold "Kate, don't be silly, my dear," was ers if he had anything else to care for; always sufficient to make me dull and gloomy and, above all, Kate," added my aunt, con- for the rest of the day. I should like to clusively, his silk handkerchief was n't know, indeed, why children are not to be hemmed, and he 'd a button wanting in front" silly?" Are grown-up people always so raof his shirt." All my life I have had a sinking at my heart when I have heard the ring at that great Dangerfield front door bell. It was better in my poor uncle's time, for he would have made any place lively, but since his death the Park has relapsed into its natural solemnity, and I am quite sure that if ever I do go into a convent, my sensations will be tional in their amusements or irreproachable in their demeanor? "Let the child alone, ' poor Uncle Harry used to say; and once I overheard him mutter, "I've more patience with a young fool than an old one." Such training has not had a good effect on Cousin Amelia. She has been so constantly tutored to conceal her emotions, and to adopt the carriage and manners of an automaton, that 66 as they were of their hand; and although not a very creditable tale to any of the family, Aunt Deborah would never forgive me if I were not to relate the tragedy which conferred on Dangerfield the honor of being a haunted house. Sir the girl is now a complete hypocrite. It is to bed till eleven, so there, having dined at quite impossible to make her out. If you half-past six to a minute, we were forced to tickled her, I don't believe you could get sit at least three mortal hours and a half, her to laugh, and if you struck her I very swallowing yawns, and repressing that inmuch doubt whether she would cry. My explicable disorder termed the fidgets till the aunt calls it "self-command; " I call it welcome bed-candles arrived. No wonder "imbecility." She shook hands with me in men drink and smoke and commit all sorts her provokingly patronizing manner- of enormities to fill up those dreadful hours "hoped I had brought my horses with me "after dinner. I think if ever I take to (as if I was coming to spend months at Dan- tobacco it will be at Dangerfield. Then of gerfield without Brilliant); "supposed I course the Hall was haunted, and of course had my sidesaddle in the cap-box; " and my passage was the one which the ghost showed me my room, without so much as a particularly affected. It was a sad story, single kind word of welcome or a cousinly that of "the Dangerfield ghost." I have caress. It was quite a relief to help dear got it all out of Aunt Deborah at different Aunt Deborah to unpack her dressing-case times, and though I don't exactly believe in and kiss her pleasant face, and give her the the spectre, I can't help sometimes crying warm cup of tea without which Aunt Deb-over the incidents. The fact is, the Horsorah never dreams of dressing for dinner. inghams were quite as proud of their ghost O! those solemn, heavy, silent, stupid dinners, with the massive plate, and the dark oak wainscoting, and the servants gliding about like ghosts at a festival in Acheronwhat a relief it would have been even to have had a clownish footman spill soup over one's dress, or ice-cream down one's back, or In the reign of George II., the head of the anything to break the monotony of the house, Sir Hugh Horsingham, married a entertainment; but no! there we sat, Aunt young wife, and brought her home to DanHorsingham remarking that the weather gerfield with the usual demonstrations and was dull," and the crops looking very rejoicings peculiar to such an event. unpromising; " Aunt Deborah with her eyes Hugh was a dark, morose man, considerably fixed on a portrait of the late Mr. David older than his bride. Stern and forbidding Jones, as a boy, opposite which she in- in his manners, but possessing deep feelings variably took her place, and on which, under a reserved exterior, and a courage and though representing an insignificant urchin determination not to be daunted or subdued. in a high frill and blue jacket, she gazed Such a man was capable of great things, for intently during the whole repast; Cousin good or for evil, and such was the very naAmelia looking at herself in the silver dish-ture on which a woman's influence might covers, and when those were removed, re- have produced the most beneficial results. lapsing into a state of irritable torpor; and But unfortunately young Lady Horsingham as for poor me!-all I could do was to had but one feeling for her lord, and that think over the pleasures of the past season, was intense terror of his anger. She never and dwell rather more than I should other-sought to win his confidence, she never enwise have done on the image of Frank Lovell tered into his political schemes, his deeper and the very agreeable acquisition he would studies, or even his country amusements and have been to such a party; and then the pursuits; all she thought of was how to evenings were if possible worse than the avoid offending Sir Hugh, and ere long this dinners-work, work, work, mum, mum, one idea grew to such a pitch that she quite mum, till tea, and after tea Aunt Hors- trembled in his presence, could scarcely aningham would read to us, in her dry harsh swer distinctly when he spoke to her, and voice, long passages from the Spectator, seemed hardly to draw breath in freedom very excellent articles from the Rambler, save when out of his sight. Such a state of highly interesting in their day, no doubt, things could have but one ending-distrust but which lose some of their point after an and suspicion on one side, unqualified averinterval of nearly a century; or, worse than sion on the other. A marriage, never of all, Pope's Homer, and Cowper's Task, inclination, as indeed in those days amongst running the lines into each other so as to great families few marriages were, became avoid what she called "the sing-song of the an insupportable slavery ere the first year of rhymes," till the poet's effusions sounded wedded life had elapsed; and by the time an like the most extraordinary prose, cut into heir was born to the house of Horsingham, lengths, as we ladies should say, for no probably there was no unhappier couple earthly purpose but to make nonsense of within fifty miles of Dangerfield than dark the whole thing. Her ladyship never went | Sir Hugh and his pretty, fair-haired, gentle character enough to do anything out of her own notions of the beaten track. She had promised her father she would marry Sir Hugh Horsingham;-not that he had the slightest right to exact such a promise,— and she felt bound to fulfil it. She never remembered the injury she was doing "Cousin Edward," the right which such devotion as hus ought to have given him. She knew she loved him better than any one in the world; she knew she was about to commit an act of the greatest injustice towards Sir Hugh; but she had "promised papa," and, though she would have given worlds to avoid fulfilling her compact, she had not strength of mind to break the chain and be free. wife. No! she ought never to have married him at all. It was but the night before her wedding that she walked in the garden of her father's old manor-house with a bright, openhearted, handsome youth, whose brow wore that expression of acute agony, which it is 80 pitiable to witness on a young countenance, that looks almost as if physical pain were added to mental anguish, which betokens how the iron has indeed "entered into the sufferer's soul." "Ah, you may plead, 'Cousin Edward,' but we women are a strange mixture, and the weakest of us may possess obstinacy such as no earthly consideration can overcome. 99 "Lucy! Lucy! for the last time, think of it -for the love of Heaven, do not drive me mad-think of it Cousin Edward! Cousin Edward! you - it is the last, last chance." should have carried her off then and there; The speaker was white as a sheet, and his she would have been truly grateful for the hollow voice came in hoarse, inarticulate rest of her life, but she would have died whispers, as he looked almost fiercely into sooner than opened her lips. He was hurt, that dear face to read his doom. Too well reckless, almost savage. He thought her he knew the set, fixed expression of her del- sullen. "Once more, Lucy," he said, and icate profile. She did not dare turn towards his eye glared fiercely in the waning light, him; she could not have looked him in the "once more, will you give me one word, or face and persevered; but she kept her eyes never set eyes on me again?" Her lip never fastened on the horizon, as though she saw moved. "I give you till we pass that tree,' her future in the fading sunset; and, whilst - he looked dangerous now" and then "her heart seemed turning to very stone, she he swore a great oath "I leave you forkept her lips firmly closed; she repressed the ever." Lucy thought the tree looked strange tears that would have choked her, and so for and ghastly in the rising moon; she even that time she conquered. Lucy had a great remarked a knot upon its smooth, white idea of duty; hers was no high-principled stem, but she held out whilst one might have love of duty from the noblest motives, but a counted ten; and when she turned round, morbid dread of self-reproach. She had not | poor girl! Cousin Edward was gone. once more ceased had not died naturally; in consequence of which he applied to the parish officers, who ordered the grave to be opened, which was done yesterday morning, and the body removed to the vault under the church, for the inspection of the jury, which sat upon it in the course of the day; when the following appeared in evidence: MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR. For the strange story | intimating very strong suspicions that the dewhich it tells, and as somewhat apropos to the observations on likening woman to the moon, perhaps the following may be worthy of a place in "N. & Q." It is extracted from the Dublin Freeman's Journal of November 9, 1808. I may add, that coroners' juries now-a-days would hardly be so simple as to regard the "medical gentleman's" testimony as unimpeachable evidence: “MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR. -On Saturday last a corpse was brought from Charterhouse Square, and buried in Islington Churchyard, and a stone erected at the place with this inscription: "In Memory of MRS. ELIZABETH EMMA THOMAS, She had no fault, save what travellers give the moon- "The lady died on Friday, was buried on Saturday; and the gentleman with whom she and embarked at Portsmouth on Monday for lived (not being married) left town on Sunday, Spain. On examining the body, a silver pin, about nine inches long, was found sticking in the heart, through the left side of the body. A medical gentleman, who had attended the deceased, declaired that the pin was inserted at the request of the gentleman, to prevent the possibility of her being buried alive. The jury, after considerable consultation, brought in a verdict of Died by the visitation of God." The corpse still lies unburied in the vault.". "Mr. Hodgson, the Coroner, received a letter, Notes and Queries. From The Press. LIFE-PEERAGES. tion that its importance is not yet fully appreciated by the public, and from no illgrounded suspicion that a scheme is on foot for the total disorganization of the House of Lords. What else, indeed, could be the result of creating a new order of nobles, who would be completely under the influence of the Crown, and completely above the influence of the people? And what else can be intended by the recent elevation of Baron Parke to the Peerage, but the creation of such an order? In some quarters, indeed, the design is openly avowed, and sounds of rejoicing are rife. Yet, though it publishes the peans of others, the Times itself preserves an unbroken silence. Is it the silence which gives con to prejudice can deny the enormous importance of preserving the integrity of the Upper And WE return to this subject from a convic-House. To those poor silly creatures who unless he wears a dirty shirt, and spouts at think a man cannot possess genius or energy mechanics' institutes, we do not address our present arguments. We leave them to their self-complacency, with a charitable hope that no introduction to polite society will ever cruelly undeceive them. But to readers of a different stamp-men who know what the unflattering lessons of history really arewho understand that the permanence of its institutions can alone make a nation great, and make its greatness happiness-to these That something is designed beyond the we appeal most earnestly and most confidentmere prevention of a new noble family is ly. An hereditary peerage, arbitrating be sufficiently evident from the fact that Lord tween the Crown and the people, is the surest Wensleydale is childless and seventy years of safeguard against civil war and revolution; age. Had that been all, a limitation to him- and the creation of life patents is the surest self and the heirs male of his body would means of undermining the hereditary peerhave been an ample precaution. That it was age. Louis Philippe destroyed the heredinot so considered affords but too clear a pre-tary nobility of France, and constitutional sumption that the creation is intended as a monarchy was wrecked. The hereditary noprecedent- -a precedent, we affirm, which bility of England destroyed absolutism, and smacks strongly of a sinister influence, and a constitutional monarchy was preserved. It policy which Englishmen loathe. is not on the muddy declamations of lowbred adventurers, nor the whining harangues of flabby capitalists, that the country can rely. Pelf is the object of both. whether a man would sacrifice his country to Russia, or himself to a Minister, is a matter of indifference. From all the noisy clapThis measure is unconstitutional in itself, traps of the day the true independent leaders and is also glaringly menacing to the inde- of the people naturally stand aloof. Shall pendence of the House of Lords. By the we on that account destroy their independword unconstitutional we do not, of ence? Shall we object to them on the very intend to question the Royal Prerogative. score of their distinguishing excellence? It Yet we have not now to learn that what may is because the House of Lords are relieved be in accordance with the letter of the law from the necessity of perpetually courting may be opposed to the spirit of the Constitu- the people that they are the people's best tion. And a prerogative which has been friends. But let them once be swamped by exercised only once since the Norman Con- an influx of plebeians holding life-peerages, quest, cannot now be exercised habitually, and they will be compelled either to retire without reviving disputes which were far from public life, or array themselves in an better forgotten. It is astonishing how attitude of unceasing hostility to the nomiblindly men sometimes argue. Here is a nees of the Crown. In the latter case their measure the whole gist of which lies in the independence will be at once sacrificed. creation of new members of the House of They will be oppositionists by compulsion, Lords; yet precedents are adduced in its fa- and instead of the dignified and arbitrative vor, almost entirely composed of women and position which they now occupy, must of aliens, or persons who were members already. necessity degenerate into either nonentities This attempt at proving the innovation a or partisans. Such a consummation may in strictly constitutional proceeding is, without certain quarters be chuckled over. exception, one of the very lamest we ever met of the Constitution may be a fit subject for with, and almost leads us to suppose there jesting there, but it is not effected yet; and must be a people who, on the principle that we would only warn those by whose advice two negatives make an affirmative, conclude this system has been adopted, without the that bad reasoning and bad premises put to- sanction of the Legislature, to beware of gether constitute logic. provoking a storm of indignation which they may be foolish enough to consider impossible. sent? We doubt it. course, None but those who are positively slaves The ruin From The Press, 2 Feb. PARLIAMENT -PEOPLE-PEACE. THE illusion which lingered in some quarters that the Legislature might take an adverse view of the Peace Negotiation, has been dispelled by the discussion in both Houses on the first night of the session. The War party has vanished like a dissolving-view. It has no longer an existence. Its last fragments faded away with the oration of Mr. Roebuck. used "the people " according to his habit for dealing with every connection in which he served? The position of the Premier in relation to his democratic dupes at the present moment recalls the story told of Garrick. The great actor was teased by a flashy dramatist into accepting a tragedy. On second thoughts the famous tragedian thought it hazardous to produce it, whereupon Fitzstilts stormed, and openly cursed the manager as standing between him and the fame of a modern The tone of the debates was remarkable. Sophocles. The manager took his revenge. In the first place, the Government renounced He acted the play-it was damned. So for all the designs which have been attributed to the last twenty years Lord Palmerston has it in its own organs, and by its most eager been advertising himself as a wonderful supporters. It never was disinclined to lis-statesman-"if" he had the opportunity. ten to overtures of Peace; it was all along He has got it. What did he do? He apolo anxious to bring the War to a satisfactory gized for "routine," and threw cold water conclusion. It desired a peace which should on every project of Administrative Reform; be honorable both to Russia and to the Allies. It believed that Russia was sincere. It felt that the War should not be continued for the chance of obtaining greater successes in another year or two. These are the words of Lord Clarendon in one house, and of Lord Palmerston in the other. Not an expression was dropped signifying that they looked with the slightest favor on the cause of "the nationalities; that they wished to remodel the map of Europe; that they were determined to bring Russia to her knees. They made the Anstrian Propositions their own. "We saw," said Lord Clarendon, "that it would be useless for Austria to send those terms to St. Petersburg without the sanction of the Allies." They were disposed to negotiate fairly and frankly on those terms, and they left it to be inferred that the fault would not be on their side if a definitive treaty of peace were not speedily concluded. * We are not amongst those who are surprised at the rising symptoms of popular discontent. We recollect the systematic way in which the sympathies of the credulous were appealed to about "the nationalities." There were whisperers in certain clubs always talking mysteriously of the "great designs" of a Noble Viscount: endless paragraphs appeared simultaneously in popular journals, telling the people to place political confidence only in one quarter; even the greatest literary adversary of the First Minister printed panegyrics in place of its customary invectives. The wrongs of Poland,' "the claims of Hungary,' "Italian Regeneration," furnished endless themes for shadowy hopes and superficial declamation. Is it surprising, after two years of charlatanic claptrap being offered to it, that the "popular" party should arise and denounce the diplomatic practitioner who has duped and 66 and he has advised his Sovereign to deliver the "water-gruel" Speech with which the present session opens. Such is Lord Palmerston: the opportunity is given him, he knows not how to use it. "Popular" sibillation commences. We, at least, are not surprised; for months ago, again and again, The Press denounced a "clap-trap policy," as our readers must recollect. It is instructive to analyze the different sensations of the two great classes who are most disappointed by the solution offered by Lord Palmerston. Intelligent persons, acquainted with the Continent, feel miserably disenchanted of their hopes at finding that we are to return to the status quo · - for the result is nothing better. These complainants lament that the balance of power remains the same, when the Prime Minister, four years ago, talked flippantly about sketching certain changes in the map of Europe. There is also, they say, an air of subordination to external influences which ill befits the greatness of a country like England. At any time, they reason, this appearance of weakness would be unworthy of the national renown; but after the talk of Lord Palmerston, and the artifices to which he had recourse, there is something insulting in the cool assurance assumed by the head of the Cabinet. On the other hand, there is another class of persons, less intelligent, and less familiar with continental questions. These latter ranks look with commercial eagerness for some tangible results proportionate to the national sacrifices. Half our army was lost; a hundred millions have been added to our colossal debt; vast personal sacrifices have been made what have we got? The capital sunk, the scandals of routine, the vacillation of the Coalition, the insincerity of Lord John Russell (connived at by the Premier, |