Mary a very pretty little fortune by the time she came of age. hope of Mary's love stimulated me to increased industry. The subject I had chosen for illustration was the statue scene in the "Winter's Tale," at the moment when Leontes stands transfixed before Hermione, hardly daring to recognize her as his living wife. I had had great difficulty in procuring a model for Leontes; but at last succeeded in engaging one through the assistance of a brother-artist, who sent him to me one morning with a letter of recommendation. He was a tall, well-made man, whose age perhaps was under forty His The first thing the good little girl did after they had settled in their new house, was to persuade her mother, whom I found to be a very agreeable and accomplished woman, to let me paint her portrait. I have studied many heads since Mrs. Wyllford sat to me, but never remember one with which I was more impressed at first sight. Hers was a beauty of which it might truly be said that it improved with age. Just as the first autumnal tints only enhance the charms of what was last month's summer land-rather too young, in fact, for the charscape, so some faces, I think, become acter he was to personate, if his hair, more interesting in middle life than in which was turning permaturely gray, the fullest bloom of youth. There was had not supplied the deficiency. I gathsometimes a sweet sad smile on Mrs. ered from my friend's letter that he Wyllford's features, which told of pa- had seen better days-and, indeed, the tient suffering and unwearying love moment he entered my studio I was through many a year of trial. I did not struck by his appearance. His features know her history then, but had heard bore all the evidence of gentle birth; that she had married as a schoolgirl, and yet there were marks of want and and that the union had been an unhappy care upon them which seemed incomone. Mary never mentioned her father's patible with their refinement. name to me, and I took care to avoid a manner was particularly quiet and subsubject which I knew would be painful dued, and, unlike most models whom I to her. She had now grown up a fine, had engaged, he seldom spoke, even fair-haired, rosy-cheeked girl of seven- during the short interval in which he teen, and, after the renewal of our ac- was allowed to rest from what is techniquaintance, I confess that the boyish cally called the " pose.' affection which I felt for her at school soon ripened into a stronger passion. In short, I fell in love with her, and, in the language of diffident suitors of the last century, had reason to hope that I was not altogether despised. But how could I, a young tyro, just entering on my profession, without prospect of an inheritance for years to come, how could I venture to make known my case without the possibility of offering her a home? As the little pinafored dependent on the doctor's bounty, she was an object of compassion; but as the heiress of five hundred pounds a year, she might marry a man in some position nay, would probably now have many such lovers at her feet. I was determined, at all events, to defer saying a word to her on the subject until there was some prospect of my professional success. I was engaged on a picture which it was my wish to send to the ensuing Royal Academy Exhibition. If it were accepted, I thought I might venture to look for further commissions; and the bright After a few sittings he seemed to gain confidence, and, finding I was interested in him, gave me, one dark November morning, while a dense black fog obscured the light and rendered painting impossible, the following account of his life. "You are right, sir," said he, "in supposing that I was born in a better station of life than this. I've been too proud— perhaps too foolishly proud-to own it to those who have employed me in this way before; but there is something about you which leads me to trust you with my secret-or, at least, that part of it which I dare to speak of." I assured him that I would not betray his confidence, and he went on, his voice trembling as he spoke : "I was the only son of an officer in the Indian army, who had married late in life, and at the time of my birth was living on half-pay in the west of England. My mother died when I was ten years old; and my father, who indulged me in every way as a child, dreading what he conceived to be the bad influence of at least for me to think that I was with a public school, determined to educate him in his last moments; that he freely me himself at home. The motives which forgave me the pain I had caused him; induced him to make this resolution and-grieved as I am to say it-that he were, no doubt, very good; but experi- did not survive to see the subsequent ence has since taught me that, in doing misery of which I still seemed doomed so, he made a grievous mistake. A pri- to be the author. vate education may, indeed, answer well in exceptional cases; but as a rule, and particularly when boys are waywardly inclined, it is the worst of all systems. When I went to college, at the age of nineteen, I had seen nothing of the world. I found myself suddenly emancipated from parental control, in the midst of dangerous pleasures which had all the charm of novelty, and associating with companions whose example no experience had taught me to avoid. Naturally impulsive in my temperament, I was soon led away, step by step, into follies and vices which I had never learnt to see in their proper light. I soon be came deeply involved in debt, and, much to my father's disappointment, left Oxford without taking a degree. "He received me with coldness, and even severity, and told me that if I ever hoped to reestablish myself in his favor, I must speedily reform my habits, and enter at once on the study of the profession which he had chosen for me. It was his wish that I should qualify myself for the bar; and with this end in view, I was placed in a solicitor's office at H "I can conscientiously say that at this period of my life my habits were steady, and that I looked forward with earnestness to taking that position in the world which my birth and education ought to have given me. I had, moreover, an additional incentive to industry. I became attached to the daughter of a gentleman who had been one of my father's oldest friends. She had been left an orphan, and in charge of the lawyer's family with whom I had become professionally connected. As we were both extremely young, her guardian, although he knew that my affections were returned, would not hear of any formal engagement until I had shown, by an altered course of life, that I deserved her. In due time I came up to London to read law; and had scarcely been called to the bar when my father died. Deeply as I then felt his loss, it is some satisfaction "Finding that I was now in the pos session of a small inheritance, I determined not to leave H- - until I could assure myself of the prospect of a speedy union with her for whose sake I had labored long and steadily, and without whose gentle influence I felt I might soon relapse into former habits. I had kept my promise. I had relinquished all thoughts of pleasure until I had attained a qualified position; and now I came to claim my reward. Her guardian admitted the justice of my plea; the dear girl herself blushingly avowed her affection, and within twelve months after my father's death we were married. I look back upon "I found my wife everything that I had pictured her. Kind and gentle as she was lovely, she had ever a sympathizing word for me in trouble or anxiety; and though her husband was always her first consideration, she gained the admiration of all our friends by her sweet and winning manner. the first few years of our marriage as the happiest in my life. I had already begun. to practice at the bar with some prospect of success, when an unforeseen calamity occurred, which, combined with my own selfish conduct, completely turned the tide of our good fortune. "It was soon after the birth of our first-our only-child, that my poor wife was seized with a dangerous illness, on recovering from which she was ordered change of air. The waters of a celebrated German spa were mentioned as likely to suit her case; and hoping to compensate by economy for what I might lose in professional practice, I determined to accompany her on the Continent. "The little watering place to which we had been recommended was by no means expensive. We hired furnished lodgings in a good situation; my wife soon found the benefit of the air, and was on a fair road to recovery, when our baby was also taken ill. To a man who, like myself, has never been accustomed to the society of children, the weary noise and constant crying of infants are extremely irritating, and, having brought an excellent English nurse with us, I soon became glad to escape from a source of annoyance which I could not remove, and which would soon have tried a less nervous man than I then was. Unfortunately the adjoining town-like most German spas-had its kursaal, and its gaming-table. At first the beauty of the gardens there, which were laid out with great taste, attracted me. An excellent band played on the grounds; and when my wife was prevented by her domestic duties from accompanying me, I frequently walked there alone, wondering that so many people could bear to throng those close and crowded rooms, when there was so much that was at tractive outside. "One unlucky morning a heavy shower of rain compelled me to take shelter within the building. I walked about from room to room to wile away the time, and at last found myself by the rouge-et-noir table. At first I looked on out of curiosity; and was surprised to find, after all I had heard of the horrors of gambling, that here it was conducted in so quiet and orderly a manner. I watched the croupiers, now raking in, now doling out the glittering coin. I watched the players, men, women, even children, throwing down their florins with apparently a listless air. I little thought beneath that assumed indifference what aching brows and anxious hearts were there. A little girl of ten had just won a large heap of gold, and ran away with it to her mother, who was knitting on a bench outside. How well I remember her smiling happy face as she poured the money into the woman's lap....(Good God! what may that mother have since had to answer for?).... I could resist no longer. I flung down a napoleon, and presently doubled my stakes-another, and won again. I left the table richer by some pounds than when I went to it. Would that I had lost every sou in my pocket! I might then have left the rooms for ever. As it was, encouraged by success, I went the next day, and the nextsometimes losing, sometimes winning. At last I grew bolder, and played for higher stakes, and then.... why should I linger over the details of this misery? It is an old story. I went on and on, incurring fearful losses-still hoping to retrench -and rose at length from that accursed board- —a beggar. "If even then I had had the courage to tell my wife everything, to implore her forgiveness, it might not have been too late to retrieve my fortune, or at least have gained our bread in some humble, but honest employment. But I dared not. I have braved since many a danger by sea and land, and faced what seemed to be inevitable death in many shapes, but I could not then endure to meet her calm sweet face-to take our child upon my knee again, and bear the agony that must ensue from such confession. I knew that my wife expected her old guardian and his family to join us the day after my ruin was completed. I knew that at least the little property she would inherit on coming of age would be hers. Little as it was, it might keep them from starvation. Why should I return to a home which I had blighted, and drag those innocents down into the slough of misery which my own folly had created? I was still young, strong, and healthy, and I determined to seek my fortune alone-to earn subsistence by the sweat of labor. My mind was made up. I wrote a few hurried lines to my wife, and then tore myself away-from her-from my little one, for ever. "My life since that never-to-be-forgotten day has been one of extraordinary vicissitude; my means sometimes rising to the level of a competence, sometimes reducing me to the verge of mendicancy. For years past I have sought my living in different countries, and in various ways, and had nearly realized a little fortune in California, as a gold-digger, when I lost everything on a voyage home by shipwreck. I worked the rest of my passage to England before the mast, and an artist who was on board, knowing my straitened circumstances, gave me his address in London, and has since employed me as a model. This led to other introductions, and among others to yourself, sir. You were good enough to express an interest in me, and I have told you my story; but I beseech you, spare me the sad humiliation which a knowledge of my previous life would surely bring me in the eyes of those from whom at present I must earn my living. I have suffered long and bitterly for the past, though, God knows, not more than I deserve. But I still retain pride enough to beg that you will not inquire my name. Let me be known to you and to your friends as 'George,' the artist's model." The fog had cleared away at the conclusion of this strange recital, but I had no heart to paint that day. I was almost sorry I had heard poor "George's" story. I was in no position to help him, and the aspect of his bronzed and weatherbeaten face, now rather excited my sympathy as a man than raised my admiration as an artist. It is lucky, thought I, that the head of Leontes is nearly finished; this story would have altered its character considerably on my canvas. The man was fit for better things than this—yet how could I help him? I was only just beginning to support myself-and moreover, if I had had the means, I felt sure he would have accepted nothing in the form of charity. Warmly expressing my sympathy, and assuring him that he had not misplaced his confidence, I excused myself from further work that afternoon, determining, in the mean time, to reflect on the best means to adopt for his assistance. He thanked me for what I had said, promised to return on the following day, and went off to fulfil another en gagement. It was only when he had gone that I remembered many questions which I should have liked to ask him respecting the fate of those whom he had so cruelly deserted. And yet if they had been alive-if he had tried, or wished to find them out again-would he not have told me? At one moment I felt ashamed for commiserating a man who had thus selfishly abandoned those who should have been dearest to him (even under the circumstances which he had detailed); at another I realized the bitter trials he had undergone; thought ofthe anguish he must have endured, before he could make up his mind to take that fatal step, and felt how heavy had been his punish ment. I determined to consult my good benefactress, Mrs. Wyllford, on the subject. She was coming the next morn ing with her daughter, to look at my picture. I confess that the prospect of seeing Mary generally put everything else out of my head; but on this occasion I was not sorry, when the time arrived, to find that her mother entered my studio alone. The "little housekeeper," as she used playfully to call her daughter, had been detained by some domestic matters, and would follow her presently. I thought I would first show Mrs. Wyllford my picture, and then, while his portrait was before her, detail the outlines of poor "George's" story, and endeavor to enlist her sympathies in his behalf. She sat down before the easel, looking, as I thought, younger and pret tier than she had ever seemed before. The subject that I had chosen was familiar to her-indeed she had herself suggested it. Camillo was supposed to be addressing Leontes in the lines: "My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on: Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, So many summers dry: scarce any joy Did ever so long live; no sorrow, But killed itself much sooner." She kindly praised the attitude of Hermione, the dresses and acessories of the picture, which I had studied with some care. At last her eye rested on the figure of Leontes. She looked at it long and earnestly. "I want you to be interested in that head," I said at length, in joke. "Why?" said she quickly, and growing, as I thought, rather pale as she spoke. "Was it studied from nature? I see you have only just finished it: thethe paint is hardly dry, and-would you mind opening the window?-the smell of the oil is a little too strong for me." My studio window was one of those lumbering contrivances which swing on a pivot. I went behind the chair to comply with her request, and while engaged in arranging a prop to keep the sash-frame in its place, I began to tell her briefly the story of my model's life. I was interrupted by a loud cry of pain, and turned round to find Mrs. Wyllford falling from her chair. I rushed to her assistance, and found that she had already fainted. There was water in the adjoining room, and I hastened to fetch it. As I hurried back I was met by George, who had just come to keep his appointment, and to whom I hastily explained what had happened. Between us we lifted the poor lady up, and laid her on the sofa. In doing this, her head had fallen on my arm, and it was not until I raised it, that we saw how deadly pale she was. I poured some water between her lips and begged George to get some doctor's help without delay. But he stood like one transfixed, muttering incoherently. "For goodness' sake," I said, "make haste-no time is to be lost! What is the matter? "I think I am going mad," said he as he fell upon his knees beside the couch. "Raise her head a little more-this way, boy, this way," he shrieked, in pitiable accents. "Heavens! how like she is to -Mary-Mary.-O God! it is my wife herself!" Sir Charles is the eldest son of Charles Lyell, Esq., of Kinnordy, Forfarshire, who died in 1849. He was an accomplished author, and possessed great literary taste. He was also warmly attached to scientific pursuits, and his researches in botany resulted in the addition of numerous valuable discoveries in that particular branch of science. Sir CHARLES LYELL was born at Kinnordy, on the 14th of November, 1797. He received his early education at Midhurst, in Sussex, and subsequently entered as a student at Exeter College, Oxford, graduating as Bachelor of Arts in 1819, and taking his Master's degree in 1821. At Oxford the youthful student was afforded the opportunity of attending the lectures of the celebrated Dr. Buckland, then professor of geology. This opportunity he seized with avidity, and thus acquired a taste for the science It was indeed the wife that he had which he has since cultivated so successleft ten years agowho had survived | fully, and in connection with which he is his cruel desertion-struggled with pov- justly regarded as the leading authority. erty and many trials-maintained her- Sir Charles was intended for the bar, self heroically by her own exertions, and and commenced practice as a barrister, was now, thank God! in a position to but what Shakspeare terms "father antic save him from the misery which his folly the law," had few charms for him, and and selfishness had occasioned. She had not being dependent on his profession recognized his portrait while I was tell- for a livelihood, he soon cast aside his ing her George Wyllford's story, little wig and gown, and devoted himself to thinking how closely it was interwoven the culture of geology. On the opening with her own; and it was the sudden of King's College, in 1832, he was apshock which occasioned her swoon. I pointed professor of geology, but this have little more to add in explanation. position he subsequently relinquished. Within twelve months from the date of this event, I married Mary Wyllford. Her father is an altered man. His wife's fortune was an ample one, but he never spent a penny of it without her consent. My picture was accepted at the Royal Academy Exhibition, and, wonderful to relate, was well hung. Since then I have painted from hundreds of men, women, and children; but I can safely say that I never heard from any of my sitters, any narrative which has interested me so much as the Model's Story. C. L. E. SIR CHARLES LYELL, BART. IN connection with the accurate like ness of this eminent geologist, who is also president of the British Association for the current year, we present our readers a brief sketch of his life. Sir Charles Lyell was one of the early members of the Geological Society, and, from the time of the formation of the society to the present, he has enriched its Transactions with his contributions. One of his earliest papers was published in the second volume of those Transactions, and was entitled, "On a Recent Formation of Freshwater Limestone in Forfarshire, and on some Recent Deposits of Freshwater Marl; with a Comparison of Recent with Ancient Freshwater Formations; and an Appendix on the Gyrogonite, or Seed-vessel, of the Chara." This paper was published in 1826, and another in the same year, in Brewster's Journal of Science, entitled, "On a Dike of Serpentine cutting through Sandstone in the County of Forfar." In 1827, two other papers occur in the Geological Transactions. this year also he wrote an article in the In |