a christening and not for the reasons that might influ. ence you, most philosophic Reader; but because the fit so takes me, or some trifling trifle calls up a train of associations which will strut their part, do what I may to stop them. Would you have an illustration ?—When I was but twelve years old, my father took me to a funeral : and though, with all my wildness, I had made up my mind that it was a horrid thing to die, and a more horrid thing to be buried, and that, therefore, it would be extremely amiable to look sad on the occasion-yet when I saw the people trying so hard to be serious with eyes uplifted, mouths puckered, and hands folded; and the few that spoke at all conversing in whispers-as though they feared the dead would come to life again when she heard the music of her favourite instrument—; and, above all, when I saw the pious creatures, who were so engrossed with the things of the spirit, gulping with quivering lips the funeral wine, and heard their honest sighs as they parted with the glass-I laughed aloud: And then, in an instant, as I looked on the solemn coffin, and thought that the worm would soon be playing with the poor cold corse within, my mirth was changed to shuddering and my laughter to tears. Ere those tears were dried, my father entered the room, and approaching the body, bent over it; and, as I considered the length and breadth of his monstrous proboscis, I thought- What if the woman be only in a trance, and should wake of a sudden and lay hold of dad's nose!'-The train was fired. At once, I saw the meagre hand pop out of the coffin and grasp the article-I saw the parson struggle as the lady held on-the coffin totter-and fall-the gentleman under and the lady within it, both kicking to get loose then the living and the dead, pell mell, making for the door-and, to complete the picture, my father's broomstick legs sweeping in among them. Again I shocked the meeting with a laugh. But when my

of murder, that I was forced to repeat, for the third time, "the most delectable narrative in which her ears had ever luxuriated." Then I was permitted to retire

But stop, my reader; let us first take a sketch of the worthy couple.

My uncle resembled my father sufficiently for a brother; but was neither so tall, nor so lank. Of the two, he was evidently cut out for the divine; for his nose, which was of the family size, had a most decided inclination heaven-ward. His eyes, though rather small, were expressive of good humour; and his mouth, in size like that which fabulists assign to the amiable Ogre, opened every minute to display two hardened ridges of gum, whose barren surface showed one dingy tooth yet standing, like the last remaining wall of a broken-up privy. Excuse the unsavoury nature of this comparison: I cannot forbear using it; as it is apposite in more than one respect. In body, my uncle was not of the most delicate proportions:-his belly gave ample proof of the superior fertilizing nature of good living over abstinence. In years he was rather on the other side of fifty, as was evident from the variegated nature of his skin, where hill and valley rose and sunk in the most delightful contrast. He was indeed the oldest of the seven brothers; and the only one that had ever made a fortune for the simple reason that he was the only one that had ever tried to make it. Equally passionate and arbitrary with my father, he was kinder in heart :-The latter, when least opposed, relaxed not from his tyrannical severity; the former you might lead through flood and flame-provided you let him choose, himself, which leg to put foremost in following. He was narrow-minded in ordinary money matters; yet not so much so as my father-perhaps because his means were greater :—but there were times when the warmth of his feelings would get the better of his selfishness, and then my uncle could be nobly generous. Like his hopeful nephew, he left

his father's protection in early life. Thus thrown upon his own resources, and without education, he got wisdom in that best of schools-vicissitude; and with all his getting, he got-wealth. His relations, who had disregarded his solicitations for succour, when the poor man was suffering under extreme wretchedness in a foreign clime, received him, when returned to his native land, with the utmost cordiality. But the weather-beaten, rough adventurer cursed them in the indignation of his honest heart, and thrust them successively from his door with his own hand-with two exceptions :-his brothers Timothy and Ichabod. The former he esteemed for his intellectual and moral nobleness; the latter had ever been his favourite. And yet, when this latter begged the rich Mr. Levis to make the humble parsonage his home, my uncl rejected the offer with scorn, openly reproaching his brother with the baseness of his 'motives. Resolved to live independent he then bought a house in London, furnished it, and got him a housekeeper in a bankrupt schoolmistress-how recommmended I know not. latter soon became acquainted with my uncle's foible. She humoured it—by making his will her law, by anticipating his every wish, by humbling herself before him lower-than she ever humbled herself before her Maker. The bait was swallowed. My uncle, thinking he saw himself a god in the eyes of his housekeeper, very naturally concluded that sne must be a woman of choice taste and practised judgment. Thus, becoming pleased with his own person, he discovered charms in hers; and, before many months were over, Mrs. Housekeeper shared the bed as well as board of Mr. Jeremy Levis. The match was not a bad one :-Mrs. Levis, though a fool in many other respects, had the good sense, or cunning if you please, to continue, after her marriage, in the same line of conduct which had led to that marriage. Thus,. both parties were satisfied. He fancied he held the power in his hands-and that was sufficient for him; she knew

The

very properly-though somewhat late-that it was none of her business "to pry into other people's concerns.'

I watched the countenances of the guilty pair during the housemaid's recital. That of the man never altered from the sullen, brutish expression, it had worn since his apprehension; but the woman's became of an ashy paleness; yet, when she saw my eyes fixed upon her, it kindled up— the same face which, a few hours before, had looked so lovingly upon me-with an expression of hatred so diabolical, that I was absolutely frightened. True"Heav'n hath no rage, etc."

The Justice, leaving the prisoners under the guard of one of the officers, bade Susan lead the way to the well. We accordingly followed her to a yard on the east side of the house. We found a spot where the ground looked fresh the housemaid brought a shovel; earth was turned up to the depth of several inches—and then a layer or two of stones,—and then-we saw the poor body lying in a heap, with its face upwards, and so soiled! so mangled! -Susan, though a girl of no nervous temperament, ran shrieking into the house; and, as for myself, a feeling like the first attack of sea-sickness came over me, and I stag. gered and but for the garden fence I must have fallen.

The body was carried into the house, and an inquest held. In an old chest were found the clothes of the de'ceased, his watch, a purse of one hundred pounds, and the little trunk about which the hostess had been so anx. ious-and which was found to contain merely a change of linen, and, as the justice had surmised, some papers rela tive to real property. It was evident, from the disordered state of these papers, that the trunk had already been searched by the murderers.

The corse was locked up in the house, to remain there till the relations should dispose of it. The coroner undertook to inform the latter of the melancholy news; and for that purpose used the horse of the deceased, which

he found quietly feeding in the stable-while his poor

master

Susan, whose presence would be required on the trial of the murderers, was provided with a seat in the justice's own carriage; and the good-hearted man promised to procure her an excellent situation in London.

The evening found us in the city. The justice had the carriage driven to my uncle's door: and there I bade him farewell. And farewell you too must bid him, my Reader :-not that I never saw the worthy man afterwards; but because it suits not with my purpose to reintroduce him to your notice. And be not displeased that I have been so minute-that I have detailed such particulars as a kind act to a poor housemaid. Ah, my Reader! it is in such little acts that the man is best seen. I have known many who would have robbed their own families to found a charitable institution, but few who would have cared whether Susan starved or not.

Peace to thine ashes, honest Even! Many years have run their rounds, since the earth was rattled on thy coffin; and though the fire of my youth, which once burned so free, is now fast sinking to a few gray embers, still is thy memory as fresh as ever,-one of those few green spots, mid life's arid desert, which raise the drooping spirits, and beguile the toilsome way with hope of more. Honoured and beloved didst thou live,honoured and beloved didst thou die :-no selfish heir laughed in heart as he brushed the tear-drop from his cheek; but thy children, and thy children's children, mourned sincerely for thy loss; and the poor man sighed as he turned from the grave of his best friend. Peace to thine ashes, honest Even! .