tax, from every party securing places. This is almost universally understood and accorded, but now and then a sturdy repudiator rejects the practice as an incomprehensible mystery; a puzzle as perplexing as the enigma of the Sphinx, or the knot on the chariot of Gordius.

In all disputes, no matter from what cause they arise, the box-keeper must give in, and acknowledge himself in the wrong, although he feels, knows, and can prove, he is beyond all question in the right. His employer is compelled to yield him up to public clamour, even as Strafford and Laud were sacrificed by Charles the First, and Brandon, of Covent Garden, was immolated to appease the O P rioters in 1809. From this slight sketch, it will readily appear that the post of box-keeper is one of enormous importance, honour, and diffi

culty, demanding first-rate abilities and multiplied acquirements. It is not easy to make a good actor, musician, poet, painter, sculptor, soldier, physician, lawyer, statesman, or prime-minister, but far more difficult than any or all of these is the production of an accomplished box-keeper. He stands forth as a paragon of animals," a phoenix, a black swan, a re-embodiment of the admirable Crichton; to discharge his duties competently, he requires to unite, in his own person, the polished manners of Chesterfield, the smooth tongue of Belial, the impassioned eloquence of Demosthenes, the firmness of the elder Brutus, the integrity of Aristides, the inflexibility of Regulus, the self-devotion of Curtius, the wisdom of Newton, the clear reasoning of Locke, and the profound philosophy of Bacon.

It was early in May, when a troop of the — Dragoons arrived in the ancient city of C--, to relieve the old detachment which had lingered there for nine months, amid the desolation and horrors of one of the dullest and wildest spots of our pretty green isle. It was with no very pleasant feelings that Arnold Hall, the junior officer of the said troop of Dragoons, contemplated the probability of remaining for an indefinite period at C. He had already been knocked about from one stupid quarter to another, throughout the southern districts of Ireland, ever since he first joined his regiment, and to a young man, fresh from his father's comfortable estate, in one of the loveliest counties of England, the condition of these districts appeared extremely barbarous. He had now arrived in the heart of a county where shooting landlords, and non-payment of rents, prevailed among the lower orders, while fox-hunting, ejectment of tenants, and horse-racing, were the chief employments of the gentry. Arnold would have preferred a regular campaign life, or a residence in India, or, in short, anything at all, to fighting with time and dulness in the remote country towns of the rebellious South.

He yawned, and chafed, and ran his fingers through his dark curls, and thought himself very ill-used. His companions in arms, Major Wingfield and Captain Elrington, did not sympa thise much with him on the score of the dulness of C-, for the one was married, and the other engaged to a pretty girl, with a good fortune; and both were contented to remain in a place where there were no parties or balls, and very few young ladies, if the wine were tolerable, and the troutstreams prolific. They were sporting characters, and could find plenty of amusements to suit them; but Arnold was a rather romantic, dreamy youth, fond of reading, and of flirting. There was no library in C, but a religious one, and no pretty young ladies that he could meet anywhere. It was nearly intolerable, and for the first three weeks of his stay in the town he felt very weary.

"Any news to-day, Miss Rooney?" he asked, one morning, as he sauntered into the establishment of an elderly lady, who supplied the military of C with articles for their messing, as well as with all the gossip of the surrounding neighbourhood; " anybody shot or hung?"

"Oh no, sir, but a new family have come to the town; you have heard of that, of course?"

"Why, no; who are they?" he asked, twisting his moustache carelessly. "The family of the resident magistrate, Mr. Sydenham. Lots of nice young ladies, Mr. Hall."

"Indeed! do you know them?"

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No, sir; I have never seen them myself yet, but a friend of mine, Charlotte Fogarty, has been hired to attend on the young ladies, and she says they are the loveliest creatures in the world. Mr. Sydenham himself has been here a month, and now his daughters have come. They have taken Dean Perrot's large house in Mary-street, just near the church. There will be fine doings there, I'm sure, all the summer, Mr. Hall, and you'll have great amusement; for, of course, Mr. Sydenham will call on the officers."

Arnold's spirits rose two degrees at the intelligence Miss Rooney gave him; he tapped his boot with his cane, and sauntered out of the shop. There was something now for him to think of. Among the "lots" of Miss Sydenhams mentioned by the worthy Ellen Rooney, there might be one, at least, pretty; one for whom it might be worth while to dress properly, and keep up his looks.

He mused awhile, and thought of strolling up Mary-street, but then he was not carefully attired; the brown shooting-coat did not sufficiently show off to advantage his really elegant figure, and he turned towards the dilapidated cavalry barracks. On his way there he met a pale, dark man, with grizzled hair and thoughtful countenance, carrying a bundle of official papers, and as he passed he heard the people about whisper, "That's Misther Sydenham the magisthrate." Arnold turned to look at him, and saw that he steadily pursued his way with a grave and stately air. The young man was preoccupied again-something peculiar struck him in the appearance of Mr. Sydenham, he knew not why or wherefore, yet he did not withdraw his eyes from the retreating figure that arrested them, till it was hid by a turning in the

street.

The condition of a young man leading an idle life, with plenty of money in his pocket, is often as deplorable as that of the meanest beggar. Arnold felt all the miseries that beset an active,

sensitive mind, when unoccupied, and not fortified by rational cares and studies. Some odd fancies struck him, and he seized a looking-glass on entering his barrack-room, to perceive whether his face began to show signs of advancing age. Yes, he was nearly twentytwo, and it was natural to expect that wrinkles, and, mayhap, grey hairs, would make themselves visible; yet, strange fact, not a single blemish could his imagination detect that announced the departure of youth, and he put aside the miror, with the mental assurance, that he was a "deuced well-looking fellow." He then laid hold of the last number of a well-known periodical, and whiled away the time with the aid of it, and a cigar, till dinner. So passed this day, Friday. The next was a deplorably rainy Saturday, and then came a brilliant Sunday.

The sun shone dazzlingly over the ancient city of C-, as, loud and solemn, the deep-toned cathedral bell rang for morning prayers, and, with a light heart, Arnold Hall dressed himself with peculiar precision for church. Major Wingfield did not feel inclined to attend prayers, but Captain Elrington accompanied Arnold to the cathedral. They had been there only once before, so that the chaunting and organ, which were generally considered fine, possessed still the charms of novelty for them.

"Upon my word, Hall, you look very spruce, to-day," remarked the Captain, as he and his young companion marched at the head of the troop to church. Arnold smiled to himself; he was bent on conquest.

Alas! reader, the vanities of the world clung round him, as they cling round us all, far firmer than thoughts of death and a future state!

How few of us contemplate the motive that should, at least, bring us to a place of worship on Sundays. How seldom do we consider, while gazing around the sacred edifice, or lounging in the recesses of a well-cushioned pew, that all we see and hear is intended to prepare us for the solemn change that must soon occur-that we are alone listening there, because death claims us all. Arnold had but a very vague idea, in his mind, of what he ought chiefly to have gone to church for, though a strong conviction forced itself on him, that he went because he was the junior officer of his troop, and could

not well absent himself, even if he wished to do so. We fear there were not many thoughts of divinity in his head, as he unbuckled his sword, and passed his handkerchief over his face, or while raising the rich dark curls that clustered together over his forehead, from the recent pressure of his helmet.

The cathedral bell was still pealing forth its solemn invitation, and one by one the congregation dropped in. As the pew generally allotted to the military officers at C commanded a view of the vestibule, Mr. Hall was fortunate enough to perceive the preparations each individual made before entering the body of the church, and he was a good deal amused by them. First came the herculean form of Doctor Reynolds, the principal physician, and one of the aristocracy of the city of C, followed by his little thin wife, who was rather unhappy because she had no children. After them arrived Mr. Timothy Black, the very tyrannical agent of a wealthy land owner, whom everybody expected would be shot for his cruelty to the tenantry under his surveillance, and whom very few would have dared to accompany in his drives through the country, for fear of being sacrificed in mistake. Mrs. Black, a very fair, light-eyed young woman, who always wore a white veil and blue ribbons in summer, and two equally fair, light-eyed little girls, accompanied him, and all four entered their pew with an easy air of importance. The next family that appeared in the vestibule amused Arnold particularly. It consisted of Mr. Attorney Phipps, his wife, and a little daughter of some six years' standing, and a young lady relative, whose intensely dark eyes burned very black and wildly under very dark eyebrows, and were rather more startling than lovely. They were more particular in adjusting their form of entrance than the others. Mr. Phipps first waited to arrange his hair and tighten his waist before he offered his arm to his wife, who had been previously occupied in pulling down, with sudden jerks, the very short, rotund skirt of her little daughter's dress, and in ascertaining that her own brooch-pin was securely fastened, while Miss Lacket waited patiently to bring up the rear in due form. This was what Mr. Hall described with spirit to his friends as the "Phipps get up." The rest of

the congregation amused him more or less by the affectation of importance which almost all assumed. Arnold, Arnold! why were you not thinking of your prayers, rather than commenting on the manners and appearances of the people who assembled within the church? Verily, a reward for your wickedness arrived even in this world. A punishment little dreamed of was yet to fall with heavy force. His doom was impending, and he knew it

not.

The bell had ceased to ring, and now the organ pealed forth a solemn strain, as the clergyman and choristers advanced to their accustomed places; a hush prevailed, and prayer-books were opened; the service commenced, and Arnold tried to fix his attention on the introductory prayers, yet his eyes moved still, involuntarily, towards the vestibule, and in their frequent wanderings there, at length fell on the figures of three youthful females, who, without hesitation or preparation, entered the body of the cathedral.

"The Miss Sydenhams, of course," thought the young dragoon, as he beheld the ladies following the sexton to a pew, with almost as few airs of conceit or affectation as the conceited Arnold himself could tolerate.

They were, indeed, the Miss Sydenhams, and nearly as pretty as a fastidious taste could require. In novels, generally, elder sisters are nearly always taller than the younger ones; yet we are adhering strictly to truth when we say that Miss Sydenham was many inches taller than either of her sisters. She was a very interesting girl, fair and slender, with rich, dark curls clustering beneath her bonnet, and shading a neck white and rounded as an ivory pillar. The expression of her full black eyes was often sad and thoughtful, and yet at times they lighted up with a brilliancy quite charming; small Grecian features, almost perfectly chiselled, and an air of quiet reserve, rendered her appearance very charming. Arnold admired her very much, but thought her rather too tall, and, perhaps, too melancholy looking.

Her two sisters were both small in stature and of fairy-like forms, and so like in appearance, that it might have been difficult to have pointed out a difference between them, had not the very fair hair of the younger one pre

sented a striking contrast to the darker auburn tresses of the other.

The second Miss Sydenham was very pretty and piquant, with bright hazel eyes that flashed and sparkled with remarkable brilliancy, and in the pauses that ensued during the performance of divine service, they more than once caught an admiring gaze from the handsome young dragoon in the officers' seat. The youngest girl was a quiet-looking little blonde, whose soft blue eyes possessed a rather inanimate expression. She seemed delicate, and overpowered with continual ennui. Arnold looked from one sister to another, and admired all; but the more brilliant charms of the second one struck his fancy peculiarly, and he was was almost in love for the sixth time since his military career began.

When the cathedral service was over, he managed to leave his pew just as the Miss Sydenhams were passing it on their way out, and he felt some pleasure in being pretty near the principal object of his admiration, even for so short a time. He was in high spirits, and commented with animation on the appearance of the strange young ladies to his companion, Captain Elrington, who agreed that they were all nice girls, and the eldest girl a lovely crea

ture.

"But her sister with the auburn curls-is she not much prettier?" asked Arnold, quickly.

"No, she is too small," replied Elrington, who having only risen to the confines of five feet seven himself, was an admirer of lofty stature in others, though at the same time perfectly well satisfied with his own size and appearance.

Nothing, however, could destroy the illusion that Miss Caroline Sydenham's bright eyes had conjured up over Arnold's mind. Every day it grew stronger and stronger, strengthened alone by the heat of his own imagination, for it was in vain that he sought to behold the fairy form of his enchantress during a whole week that elapsed since the first time of her appearance in the cathedral. He began to grow weary again, and was observed to walk very frequently up Mary-street, in the hopeless endeavour to obtain even a glimpse of his lady love in some of the windows of her own residence. Again he looked forward more anxiously than ever to Sunday, and again the Miss Syden

hams' appeared in church as before, unaccompanied by their father, and just looking the same as they did last Sunday, only that the second sister wore a very exquisite pink bonnet of Parisian manufacture, which heightened her beauty considerably, and served to bewilder Mr. Hall's head in a fearful manner.

The

The young man's patience was nearly worn out in looking vainly for a call from Mr. Sydenham. According to orders, Major Wingfield had been obliged to consult with the magistrate on business relating to his troop, but had only been admitted to his study, where they had conversed alone on the affair in question, and it was soon well known that Mr. Sydenham had no intentions whatever of visiting the mili. tary, or, indeed, of returning many of the visits of the neighbouring gentry who had called on himself. principal ladies of C had already paid their respects to the Miss Sydenhams, and made their remarks on them. The eldest was generally considered to be very proud, because she said little and was reserved, while the two younger girls were pronounced extremely conceited, because they were pretty, and held themselves very straight. They accepted no invitations to dinner or tea parties, and kept completely to themselves, seldom leaving the house even to take a walk. The brilliant doings predicted by Miss Rooney, as likely to take place at the new magistrate's, turned out fabulous. There was not one entertainment given at his house during the whole summer. The reason of such complete seclusion as his family maintained, could not be clearly ascertained; but, from the distant, proud manners of Mr. Sydenham himself, it was generally considered to arise from pride.

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Well, Mr. Hall, what do you think of the Miss Sydenhams ?" asked Ellen Rooney, one evening, as the young dragoon stepped into her shop. There was a quizzical expression in the spinster's eye as she spoke, and Arnold coloured slightly.

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Oh, very pretty, of course," he replied, with affected carelessness. "All young ladies are pretty."

"Some more so than others," continued Miss Rooney, and then, turning to a damsel who had entered for groceries, "How are your young ladies, to-day, Charlotte? What

makes them stay so much at home? Everybody complains that they are not to be seen out anywhere;" and a merry glance was directed towards Mr. Hall, who became all attention.

"Ah! what would they go out for here, ma'am?" observed the girl rather sharply. "Sure there's nothing at all worth seeing in this place?"

"But, for health's sake they ought to take a walk now and then," urged Miss Rooney.

"Well, that's their own affair-I'm sure they just look as well as them that's continially lollin' through the streets."

"Do they ever go anywhere, but to church?" asked Arnold, tapping his boot with his cane. The girl stared at him, with an expression that seemed to say, "What is it to you whether they do or not?" but she answered, with wonderful civility, that "The young ladies drove out frequently with the master in the carriage.'

"They are all very pretty, indeed," remarked Miss Rooney, good-naturedly, anxious to continue a conversation with Charlotte Fogarty, more for Mr. Hall's sake than her own.

"They are, God bless them, and what's better than that, they're good." "Is their mamma alive?" asked Miss Rooney.

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Oh, I believe she is; but give me the sugar quick, ma'am, or I'll be killed for staying away so long."

"And who is so cross that you are afraid of being 'killed?'" asked Arnold, laughing; "your master, I suppose."

The girl did not deign a reply this time; but, colouring slightly, withdrew from the shop; and Arnold sauntered out, too glad to have heard even thus little of the Miss Sydenhams.

"Am I ever to be introduced to them!" he exclaimed bitterly to himself, giving his cane an impatient jerk, and whisking a small stone that lay on the pavement several yards off. There was no use in going up Marystreet any more; so he whistled to his dog, Juan, and turned up a solitary road, that led towards the wellknown ruin of an ancient religious building in the vicinity of C- He stepped over a few styles, and struck into a wild, rocky field, where a solitary black pig, with two goats, and a calf, were feeding.

It was a very lovely evening, in the commencement of July, and as the

young man ascended the rugged height that conducted him to the ruined edifice, he felt a dreamy pleasure in occasionally stopping to view the wild but beautiful scenery around him. There were long lines of mountains stretching afar off on all sides, among which he could distinguish the bold Galtees, and the Commeragh Hills, with Slievenamuck, and the Keeper Range, whose names he had learned long since, melting away in the evening haze.

For the first time since his arrival in the South, he began to think that he should not like to leave it, and he mused, half pleased, and half melancholy, while wandering round the ruin, He was buried in sleepy meditation when the sounds of voices roused him. The words, Agnes, if we had a telescope, we might look at the mountains this evening," fell upon his ear, spoken in a lively English accent, and immediately after two light, girlish figures met the half-startled gaze of the young officer. He was face to face with Caroline Sydenham and her younger sister, Agnes, in a moment. The girls returned his stare without apparent embarrassment, though the elder one had her head uncovered, and a pretty pink sun bonnet dangling from her hand. She seemed perfectly at ease, and did not blush or change colour, much to Arnold's surprise. Her auburn curls shone brightly in the summer sun, and betrayed no signs of disorder.

She looked really beautiful, all gaiety and animation. She had expressed a wish for a spy-glass to view the surrounding scenery, and Arnold held a small pocket telescope in his hand. He longed to offer it, but knew it was impossible, under the circumstances, and the young ladies passed on, tripping lightly over the lumps of clay and stones that lay scattered around. watched their figures as long as he could, and the longer he looked, the more he admired. He was still gazing after them, when he perceived that Caroline turned to look back; ber bright eye caught his, and he thought there was a smile in it, a pleasant, knowing smile, that somehow or other had a curious effect on him.

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He

Why did she look back?" he asked himself more than once, and his vanity always answered the question.

The evening waxed cooler and cooler, and the first rays of the setting sun fell on the blackened walls of the ruin,