To her mistress' aid she accordingly ran,

Wondering much what the matter could be;
Since a simple salute from a handsome young man
Never caused such an uproar since kissing began.
But no mistress nor beau could she scc!

Both were gone! where and how it was fearful to guess,
As a sulphurcous odour remain'd,

While thick smoke still obscured the bay-window's recess,
And with burnt hoof-like marks, and a cindery mess,
The best carpet was shockingly stain❜d.

What occurr'd at the window the smoke might conceal,
Though the maid often vowed that she saw
What was horrid enough all her blood to congeal,
A long black thing that twisted about like an eel,
And the tips of two horns, and a claw.

But more certain it is, from that day ne'er again
Did that lady at court reappear,

Nor amid the beau monde. All inquiries were vain.
So though how they eloped must a mystery remain,
What the clear-starcher was, seem'd too clear.

Now, ye ladies of England! young, charming, and fair!
Pray be warn'd by this maiden's sad fate!

And whatever strange beaux, gay and handsome, may dare
To approach you with flattering speeches, beware

Lest their falsehood you rue when too late.

Above all, while your hearts are warm, tender, and young,
Let no art of the tempter prevail

To extort a rash promise; since slips of the tongue
O'er fair prospects have often a gloomy veil flung,
And caused ladies' disasters in rhymes to be strung,
As hath chanced to the maid of our tale.

THE FORLORN ONE.

АH! why those piteous sounds of woe,
Lone Wanderer of the dreary night?

Thy gushing tears in torrents flow,
Thy bosom pants in wild affright!
And Thou, within whose iron breast
Those frowns austere too truly tell
Mild Pity, heaven-descended guest,
Hath never, never deigned to dwell.
That rude, uncivil touch forego,
Stern despot of a fleeting hour!
Nor "make the angels weep" to know
The fond "fantastic tricks" of power!
Know'st thou not "mercy is not strain'd,
But droppeth as the gentle dew,"
And while it blesseth him who gain'd,
It blesseth him who gave it too?

Say what art thou?-and what is he,
Pale victim of despair and pain,
Whose streaming eyes and bended knee
Sue to thee thus-and sue in vain?
Cold, callous man!-he scorns to yield,
Or aught relax his felon gripe,

But answers-"I'm Inspector Field!—

And this here Warmint's prigg'd your wipe !^

T. I.

1

MR. HIPPSLEY,

THE ELECTRICAL GENTLEMAN.

"A respectable physician, in the last number of Silliman's Journal, gives the following very curious account of an electrical lady. He states, that on the evening of January 28th, during a somewhat extraordinary display of northern lights, the person in question became so highly charged with electricity as to give out vivid clectrical sparks from the ends of her fingers to the face of cach of the company present. This did not cease with the heavenly phenomenon, but con tinued for several months; during which time she was constantly charged, and giving off electrical sparks at every conductor she approached. This was extremely vexatious, as she could not touch any metallic utensils without first giving off an electric spark, with the consequent twinge. When seated by a stove, with her feet upon the fender, she gave sparks at the rate of three or four a minute. The lady is about thirty, of sedentary pursuits, and a delicate state of health; having for two years previous suffered from acute rheumatism and neuralgic affections." -British Press.

This then is what I am suffering from," said Mr. Hippsley, putting down the newspaper which contained the above extraor. dinary account. "I am a walking electric machine! This is why I am abandoned by my earliest acquaintance; my servants dread to come near me; and my physician no longer feels my pulse, but tells me I am hypochondriac; while to prevent having any thing more to do with such a monster, he assures me that my cure rests in my own hands. My own hands! they are electric points. Oh! this is the worst misery of all! the persecution of destiny cannot plunge me deeper into the gulf of despair. What was the inconvenience of being unable to open my right eye during the whole of last month to being a walking galvanic battery, who cannot pat a child on the head without shocking him; or shake hands with a friend without knocking him down? What was my being incapable of sitting or lying for more than three days, resting myself, like a horse in a stall, against the corner of the room, to my present misfortune? I can't touch a bell-wire without sending an electric shock through the whole lodging-house, and throwing half the members of two respectable fa. milies into convulsions. Oh! I shall make away with myself! I can't stand it!" Mr. Hippsley here attempted to draw a bottle of wine; but his hand coming in contact with the cork-screw, a severe spasm seemed to pass through his frame.

"What is to be.

"There's a shock !" exclaimed the unhappy man. come of me? The least touch of metal brings out these cursed sparks!" and putting down the bottle, he threw himself into a chair, looking the picture of despondency.

"I will see Mr. Hippsley!"

"You can't, ma'am; you cant't! Master won't be disturbed; he is not dressed. He said that he wouldn't be shaved, anyhow, till he was made sensible whether it's really hair, or feathers, that's growing out of his chin."

"Tell Mr. Hippsley, his cousin, Mrs. see him," answered a loud voice to this part of Patrick, who scarcely had time to

Martha Meddler, wants to refusal of admission on the announce the importunate

visitor when she entered the room. The invalid rose to receive her.

"Keep off!" said Mr. Hippsley solemnly, as in the perpetual bus. tle which marked Mrs. Martha's most unimportant actions, she ap proached to shake him by both hands, " keep off!"

"Charles Hippsley, for shame! What new crotchet are you going crazy upon now? Oh ? you shake your head? You are a China mandarin for a tea-shop; afraid of being knocked down and broken!" and the inhuman woman laughed till the room rang with her cachinnation.

"Shall I put out my hand, summon all my electrical power, and strike her senseless at my feet ?" said Mr. Hippsley to himself; but he refrained from this act of summary justice to his wounded feelings. He asked her to be seated, and begged she would communicate the cause of her unceremonious visit.

"Stop, my dear soul, till I have rested a bit," said Mrs. Martha. "Perhaps you would like a glass of wine? Patrick, decant that bottle."

Mr. Hippsley was sternly polite; but in the excess of his misery he forgot not the duties of hospitality. The valet now left the room, which formed the front of a first floor in Jermyn-street; and the visitor, after sipping a glass of sherry, opened her communication. "You know, Charles, that you have never been happy since Miss Thornton refused you."

"Madam, you have sur ly not paid me this early and unexpected call to remind me of that which I would willingly forget. I am an invalid, suffering from a scries of afflictions,-I should rather say a concatenation, for I have not time to rid myself of one disease ere another pos. sesses my unhappy frame.”

"There now, there's a dear soul, don't go on with your catalogue of complaints!" interrupted Mrs. Martha. "You know there is no stopping you if you once begin to enumerate."

"Cousin Meddler, relationship can not excuse your taking me to task, as if I were a weak, fanciful girl, placed under your guardianship. No one need in future dread that I shail intrude the relation of my afflictions on unsympathizing hearers. My present misery, if circumstances have nct already made it known, or accident does not reveal it, shall be locked within the recesses of my own bosom," and here Mr. Hippsley wiped the perspiration from his brow, and looked awfully mysterious.

"Well, you are a droll man, to be sure! I have a good mind to have nothing to do with you; but I can't bear to see friends mismanage their affairs, and not help them a bit. Now if any one ever mismanaged a love-matter, it was you, Charles Hippsley! There now, the murder's out! I am confident Kate Thornton is sincerely attached to you, and this morning I am come to tell you so."

"Kate Thornton attached to me!" exclaimed Mr. Hippsley, starting from his chair, and pacing the room. "Impossible! did she not refuse me twice? and have not disappointment and agitation of mind brought on all my unhappy diseases, until at last my frame has become a phenomenon?"

"Become a fiddlestick !-Will you sit down, and hear reason?"

The invalid sat himself down to suffer the infliction with an air of despair rather than resignation, and Mrs. Martha continued.

"Kate refused you because her mother could not bear your flighty and fidgetty ways-never was there such an attached daughter. Now the old lady has been dead a twelvemonth, and yesterday, af ter a little cross-examination, which I put the young lady to, out of regard for your happiness, I came to the conclusion which I don't feel myself justified in explaning more fully. There is a delicacy in these little matters of the heart. I am not a novice in them. You know, cousin, it was quite my own choice that I haven't been three times a widow. There was Colonel Target, he was killed at Waterloo; poor man! he was a dying for me long before he died for his country: and Professor Wiggins, who fell a victim to--"

"An electric machine! a voltaic battery! a human torpedo !" "Good heavens, cousin, no !" exclaimed Mrs. Martha, in great surprise at the interest Mr. Hippsley seemed to take in the thrice-told tale of her admirers, for the unhappy man covered his eyes with his hand, which he had dashed wildly against his forehead. "Mr. Wiggins died of a repletion of intellect after one of the British Association meetings; the philosophical discussions, and the feasts of reason, were too much for him. But what is the matter with you, Charles? you don't seem so delighted as you ought to be at the news I have brought you; though remember I have said nothing-I am not authorized to say anything, and would not betray a sweet girl's gentle confidence for the world. Only call at Knightsbridge; try your fortune once more. Did I ever tell you how often poor Mr. Thompson of the city put the question to me? I should have been a rich young widow now if I had married him. The interference of that nasty charity commission killed him. He was one of the directors of the Laying-out-subscription Institution; good, kind man !"

"My dear cousin," said Mr. Hippsley, "excuse my strange conduct. I am aware how many men you might have made happy had you so chosen, and I am grateful for your attempt to restore my peace of mind. You are an excellent creature!" and the invalid, in a moment of forgetfulness, held out his hand to Mrs. Martha Meddler. The lady was about to take it, when with a shudder it was with. drawn.

"Mr. Hippsley, sir! what do you mean? Is there any thing contagious in me? or do you believe that you have some unfortunate disorder which renders it advisable that you should not shake hands with your friends ?"

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"Excuse me ! excuse me !" exclaimed the wretched hypochondriac. "I know my conduct must appear inexplicable. Will you be kind enough to ring the bell, and my servant shall see you down stairs. I am unfit for company; but do not be offended. It is enough to drive me mad to hear the bliss that might be mine but for one dreadful affliction, brought on by a combination of diseases arising from the very cause, which now removed invites me to happi

Mr. Hippsley strode across the room, his eyes raised to the ceil ing, and arms extended; till the palms of his hands, coming in contast with the door of his bedrooom, it opened at the rude assault, and he disappeared from the sight of the alarmed Mrs. Martha Meddler. Ringing the Bell, under the comfortable impression that her cousin was a lunatic, and wanted a servant's care more than she required Patrick's attendance to the hall, the good lady made the best of her

way out of the house. Reconstructing a shattered resolution, which had often been made, on the failure of her kind endeavours in behalf of others, never to interfere in matters that did not immediately concern her, Mrs. Martha, in the first integrity of her resolve, had very nearly got to her own house, when an omnibus obstructed her in effecting a crossing which would have taken her directly to the street where she resided. Alas, for the mutability of the human designs! the omnibus was marked Knightsbridge. If Mrs. Meddler had a weakness it was an inordinate desire to be of service to her friends. In a moment the kind-hearted lady made a fourteenth passenger in the "Accommodation," a vehicle proceeding at the rate of four miles an hour, including fifty stoppages, from the Bank to Chel. sea. When our traveller reached Miss Thornton's habitation she had come to the determination of making a report of her visit to Mr. Hippsley and in justice to her young friend, assure her of his insanity.

The worthy maiden lady had penetrated the secret of the fair Catherine's attachment to her whimsical lover, and had in consequence lost no time in "bringing matters to bear"-her favourite phrase in such little arrangements;-but as she had acted completely without authori ty, she found it difficult to explain the part she had gratuitously performed.

"My dear Miss Thornton? how happy I am to see you looking so well!" exclaimed Mrs. Martha, seizing the hand of her young friend with affectionate earnestness; "I have a great trial for you; and I am glad to perceive you will have strength to bear it-poor Mr. Hippsley!"

"Mr. Hippsley, ma'am; let me beg you to tell me what has happened to him!" said the agitated girl, losing in a moment that hue of health, the appearance of which had been so satisfactory to her

visitor.

"There! I knew it! I told him so! I told him that I was certain you loved him!" continued the busy-body, so delighted at the confirmation of her suspicions as to be hardly conscious of the distress she was occasioning the object of them.

"You told Mr. Hippsley that I loved him! and by what authority, ma'am?" demanded the indignant Catherine, the blood returning to her cheeks. "And what right have you to suppose this ?-or have you wantonly induced me to believe that harm has come to an old and esteemed friend on purpose to draw ungenerous conclusions from my agitation?"

Miss Thornton wept, and her tormentor who was really a kind-hearted creature felt proportionably distressed.

66

My dear young lady, forgive me. I did it for the best, and I really believe the poor gentleman's flightiness is all occasioned by his attachment to you; I only hope he is not actually deranged; and then if you are favourable to his suit all will be well." Here Mrs. Martha busied herself in soothing her friend, who having found relief in tears was easily persuaded that, however much mis. chief might have been done, it was "all with the best intention in the world."

Miss Thornton's guardian with whom she resided was Mr. Hippsley's physician, so her lover's peculiar temperament was not unknown to her; nor was Mrs. Martha's power in colouring facts a talent of