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- Mr Pearie called him aside for a shoulder, “ do you think I believe your very short time at the Wax-works, tale about a promotion in Captain and this morning he told me, before he Slasher's regiment ?" went out for his walk, that I should " What care I whether you believe it not see Captain Slasher again." or no? He believed it, an'that's enough.
" He told you so ?--'Tis, indeed, too He's awa' to Lon'on his horses are true."
a' to follow to-days-his rent is a' paid, ~ I'm so sorry!-Captain Slasher and sae we're quit o' him. You dinna had seen such strange things in India; seem half pleased about it, Charles ?" -but I don't think Mr Pearie ever “ Look within, into your own heart, liked him ;-Do you think he did ?" Mr Pearie, and tell me if you think I
« My dear Mary," said Charles, ought to be pleased." o don't run on so thoughtlessly . “'Deed ocht ye, for ye see we've it is of the greatest importance that the disposal o' Mary a' to ourselves, this subject should not be mentioned. she'll still be in the firm; and between Never on any account allude to the oursels, I ha'e every reason to bedislike you perceived Mr Pearie en- lieve she's as well pleased at the busi. tertained to Captain Slasher. Hush! ness as we are." he's coming! It may be the saving of « Once for all," said Charles, firma life. Beware!"--and Charles rush. ly_ I know all, Mr Pearie,-mark ed out of the room to have his inter me,-all. I was by the water's side, view with the murderer alone.
last night-you understand me.” Never were happiness and peace of " Whisht! for God's sake whishtmind more clearly depicted on a hu. it wad ruin our credit in the town man countenance than on that of Mr poor Dawson has his way to makePearie. His hands stuck in both folk wad think it was carryin' the pockets, his hat cocked airily on one joke owre far. It was grand fun! but side of his head, for he had just re- sef us, man, whisht about it." turned from his morning's stroll,-and, During this recital, which was ac. his whole outward man swelling with companied with many explosions of comfort and satisfaction, he winked mirth, the listener was transfixed with significantly to the horror-struck visi a mingled feeling of pity and disgust. tor, and said
At last, however, a conviction of the « We've done him, Charles ; yon insanity of the unfortunate banker birky will gie us nae mair trouble." took possession of his mind. But
A shudder passed over poor Charles Dawson, the quiet, steady head-clerk at this dreadful commencement. - the confidant of his principal's
" You allude-I presume-to-to plans about Mary--the depository of Captain Slasher ?" he stammered. his schemes of vengeance against his
si Just so-1 gi'ed him a hint about rival! It was impossible to believe some promotion that was going on in that both were insane. Time pressed the Indian army, and he set aff that he resolved to leave Mr Pearie ; to very hour for London."
explain the whole business in a few vi Promotion ?” enquired Charles, words to Mary į and then to inform with a searching look at the uncon- Dawson of the discovery of his misscious narrator.
deeds. At this moment à bell was “ Yes -a sudden death had ta’en rung in the street, and Mr Pearie, place in the régiment that he was aye rushing to the window, listened for puffin' and boastin' about.- Do ye a moment to a proclamation of the mind hoo he used aye to be telling us bellman, then looking at Charles with hoo pleased he would be if we could a face in which alarm and vexation see his corpse?"
were very powerfully expressed, he Charles gathered the whole energy of exclaimed, * We're found out! we're his soul into one sentence. With com, found out what'll become o' us ? pressed lips, and an eye rivetted on Mr I'll gie the bellman five shillings, and Pearie, he said, “I have seen it, sir !" bribe every ane else to haud their
* Weel, was't a braw ane P_It tongues. Not a word, Charles, o'what maun hae been unco black, for ye ye saw last night." mind he tauld us his men were a' nig But Charles was in no mood to make gers.—But is't come hame? Whar promises. Mr Pearie rushed forth to saw ye his corpse ?"
carry his plans of bribery into effect; « Old man l" said Charles, laying and Charles hurried into the Bank. his hand solemnly on Mr Pearie's There, seated quietly at his desk, as if nothing particular had happened, was “ Murder !" cried Mr Pearie, astoDawson busy making entries.
nished; “ it's no just sae bad as that “Dawson,” said Charles, "no time is either, though Tam Jaffrey, the bellto be lost. Follow me into the house." man, says that the town-clerk tauld
Mr Dawson folded up his books and him it amounted to hamesucken and papers, and did as he was told. robbery-principally on account of
Mary was no little amazed to see the breeks ; for ye see they were the Charles, thus accompanied, enter her Captain's ain breeks, and a pair o' his breakfast parlour.
auld boots too." “ What's the matter?" she exclaim. “What is all this about?” enquired ed,“ has any thing happened ?" Mary, who had gazed from one person
“ Yes," said Charles, “ murder has to the other, amazed at the conversahappened! have you heard the bell- tion. man?"
- Just a frolic, Mary, o' Dawson an' “No-who? what is it? ob tell me." me," said Mr Pearie—“ Ye see that
« Dawson can tell you best!-out lang-neckit Indian, afore going awa', with it, sir,-it is no secret to me!- had had the vanity to hae his statue I saw you last night .by moonlight." done by the folk at the Wax-works,
“ Me, sir?-de'il a bit o' me will and had furnished it with his auld tell ony thing without the order o'my claes. Noo, I saw clear enough that principal.”
his plan was to leave this statue wi' “ Then I will," continued Charles. you, Mary, as a parting keepsake; an' “ You will see your admirer, Captain as I didna wish to hae ony thing o' Slasher, no more."
the kind, Dawson an' me just gaed " I know it," replied Mary, - Mr doun last night, clamb into the upPearie has told me so."
- stairs window, and got haud of the “ It was Mr Pearie, aided by the wax figure. We didna ken hoo to diabolical ruffian at my side, who got get quit o't, so we tied a wheen stanes quit of him."
round it, an' threw it bodily into the "I know that too,” said Mary; “I water opposite the Dene-walks-and think they managed it very well." Charles, ye see, refuses to tak' the
Charles Patieson reeled as if thunblame o't, tho' I've tauld him ye're derstruck, and fell into a chair. willing to reward him.”
But farther disclosures were inter- Charles Patieson, at this explanation, rupted by the entrance of Mr Pearie. started up. “What! refuse? Who
* Ah ! Dawson ?"_he exclaimed - said I refused? My dear sir, I will “ this is a foolish business—they're confess this moment." draggin' the water--they'll find the “ An' marry Mary Peat?" body to a certainty."
Our chronicle gives no account of “There ! there!” cried Charles. “I what Charles's answer was. But, we told you so, Mary !"
believe, a very short time saw every « Unless we get some body to tak' thing satisfactorily arranged - and the wyte o't, it'll ruin our reputation; the spotless reputation of the “ heed
some young chap- it wadna harm o' the hoose" preserved from the scanthe like o' a laddie o' twa or three an' dal of so frolicsome an achievement, twenty-Charlie, will you just save by the self-devotion of the younger Dawson an'me frae disgrace, and tak' partner. The church bells thunderthe blame o't on yersel?"
ing forth their best, « one morning " Who! I, sir?"
very early, one morning in the • Wha else? Was it na for your spring,” gave notice to all whom it sake it was done ? Wasna it to get ye might concern, that the banking estathe hand (ye've gotten the heart al. blishment lately carried on under the ready I jalouse), o' Mary Peat there, names of Pearie, Peat, and Patieson, that Dawson and me did it?" . was now conducted under the names
Charles looked at Mary, and Mary's of Pearie and Patieson only. In the silence and blushes confirmed Mr course of a few years it was finally Pearie's statement.
dissolved. Mr Pearie retired from “ No, sir," he replied at last, “ not business, and now resides at the Dene even for that. Mary herself would -his old premises bearing, in new gilt recoil from a person accused of mur- letters above the door — “ Branch
Bank. Hours of business from 10 till 4."
OUR WOULD-BE RECTOR. Among those serious and vexatious Radical. The poor Duke asked for an affairs the public have had a little re. increase of his pension, that pension laxation in laughing at the misfor being, on the whole, equal to the antunes of his Royal Highness the Duke nual interest of half a million of of Sussex. This Royal Duke has been money ; his only discoverable plea notorious for many years as a Whig being that he would extremely like to “ and something more," as a liberal of have more money than during his the most vociferous kind. Nature sixty years of drowsy existence he had having given the Royal Duke no ta- ever possessed. No one in the House lents whatever, he could not, like some was cruel enough to ask what he had of his betters, abuse them, and his prin- done for all that he had got from the ciples having been taught by Whigs, nation already. The royal patriot the character of those principles may and petitioner never baving held any be left for the amusement of the public. office, never rendered any service,
But during his whole life the topics never been heard of in any human of his oratory were the abomination shape of any possible exertion for the of living upon the public,-his own public behoof. The case was so dehuge pension, we presume, being the cisive, that, prodigal as the House was, reward of intended services, he never the petition slept on the table. The having rendered any in the sixty years result was lamentable; the Royal of his being. His Royal Highness Duke gave up the Presidentship of the was in perpetual agonies at the idea Royal Society, to which his prodigious of pensions and places, of titles con discoveries among the stars, or possibly ferred without cause, of royal extrava. his investigation of the philosopher's gance, and Ministerial corruption. stone, doubtless entitled him ; wrote a The friend of the patriotic party who lacrymose letter to the Fellows, which sang and swore that self-denial, public was intended to rouse the very insen. economy, and personal disinterested. sible feelings of the public, and, declarness had taken refuge among them ing that he was unable to support the exalone, could do no less than flourish penses of this formidable elevation, rehis commonplaces at taverns and tea- tired, covered with, we presume, glory. drinkings, and preach cheap living The men of science, it must be and liberty. All this was often looked owned, have not been altogether on with surprise, when it was remem- pleased with the reason, however they bered that his Royal Highness him. may have been with the result. They self was one of the most palpable cases did not choose to be regarded as havof sinecurism in the kingdom; and that ing eaten up a Royal Duke, as churchthe success of his doctrines would wardens were once said to devour a have driven him to the hopeless ne- child. Accordingly, some lively corcessity of earning his bread by the la- respondence has followed. bour of his brains or hands. Still his The point in question is the Royal Royal Highness harangued, and while Duke's inability to support the heavy there seemed no chance of his getting expenses of his Presidentship. This any thing from the Treasury he was is an unlucky confession to be thrown the most averse of any man living to among so many arithmeticians. They condescend to the national offence of have since been busy in the calculamaking any demand upon the finances tion how much it may have cost his of what he, as regularly as the tavern Royal Highness to give tea and cakes, bell rang, pronounced an impoverish which were all that his Royal Highness ed, beggared, cruelly burthened, and ever gave. Some take the items of so forth, nation.
the tea, which they assert might be a But the hope of other things dawn- couple of pounds at five shillings each, ed. He saw the Duchess of Kent, as on his soirees. And others distinctly her expenses decreased, getting an state, that those soirees, last year, augmentation to her income, and the amounted only to four, and allowing Duke, old as he was, thought that as for candles, sugar, cream, &c.- for to his merits were quite equal, so might these calculations the melancholy anhis luck. He accordingly made his nouncement of his Royal Highness's proposal, through the bowels of com- dilapidation have naturally driven passion of Mr Gillon, a young gentle- them—the amount might be, at the man who, in default of all other claims outside, about L.200 per annum, on public attention, avows himself a which, deducted from his public allowance of L.18,000 a-year (with if not frugal, good taste ; and that, in other matters, amounting to L.21,000), the simplicity of their style, there was leaves only the small sum of L.20,800 nothing to contrast offensively with to meet the troubles of this world. the ordinary habits of the guests ; nor,
A sensible, and by no means an I should have thought, to increase in uncourteous letter, on this subject has any sensible degree the expenses of appeared, utterly denying that the ex- your establishment.” penses of the Presidentship could be a All this will be extremely well reburden to any one with a tenth or a lished by the country, though we shall hundredth of the unhappy Royal not answer for the Royal Duke's equa. Duke's income.
nimity on the occasion. The truth is, It says, “ I have been thirty years that all men are extremely glad when a Fellow of the Society, and have fre- pretexts and pretences exhibit themquently had the honour of being elect- selves the things they are. Paying all ed of the Council. I have attended due respect to rank and royalty, we the evening parties of Sir J. Banks, have seen nothing in the conduct of Sir H. Davy, and Mr Gilbert. I this man, whether young or old, to have also attended, I believe, all the justify any kind of regret on the occa• soirees' at your Royal Highness's sion. A Whig prince, in the modern residence to which I was honoured sense of Whiggism, is an anomaly and with an invitation, and I think I may an absurdity. If Radicalism were say that these have not amounted to four triumphant for a week, it would strip altogether, and that, except your Royal every prince in the land of title, penHighness's frank and gracious reception sion, honours, and coat and breeches, of your guests, there was nothing to dis- and send them roving the earth like tinguish them from the evening parties the unfortunate French nobility. so frequent in London, in which a prin But we warn the country that the vate gentleman gives tea, coffee, and experiment on the parliamentary ris. conversation to his literary friends." cera is to be repeated. The “ Date
It continues in the same quiet, but obolum Belisario" will not altogether perfectly intelligible style I can answer in the instance of a petitioner only say that the meetings which I who “ of the division of a battle knows attended, though perhaps too few in no more than a spinster.” We recomnumber, were conducted with plain, mend the following:
Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Whose trembling legs have borne him to your door,
And humbly take his twenty thousand more.
A talking, trifling, brain-bewildered thing,
Who never served his country or his king.
A lavish pension, title, and a star ?
To hold his hand up at your worships' bar.
Per month, where Charity supplied the meal,
And now he lives, hard fare, upon his zeal.
(Dinners and suppers were beyond a prince),
He ne'er has koown a smile, or sixpence since.
Sir Joseph's three-cocked hat, Sir Isaac's chair,
The spectre of the grocer's bill was there,
Whose trembling legs have borne him to your door,
And humbly take his twenty thousand more.
J. B. & A. B.
COLERIDGE's Christabel is the most ches of the tree, would seem to be doing exquisite of all his inspirations; and, the injustice of neglect to the elegance incomplete as it is, affects the imagi. of its foliage, and the microscopic nation more magically than any other perfection of every single leaf. Those poem concerning the preternatural. who now read it for the first time, will We are all the while in our own real scarcely be disposed to assent to so and living world, and in the heart of much praise ; but the man to whom it its best and most delightful affections. is familiar will remember how it has Yet trouble is brought among them grown to his own liking-how much from some region lying beyond our of melody, depth, nature, and inken, and we are alarmed by the sha- vention, he has found from time to dows of some strange calamity over- time hiding in some simple phrase hanging a life of beauty, piety, and or unobtrusive epithet." In no peace. We resign all our thoughts poem can “ every line be a picture ;" and feelings to the power of the mys- and there is little or no meaning in tery -- seek to enjoy rather than to what Mr Tupper says above about solve it and desire that it may be the tree; but our wonder is, how, with not lengthened but prolonged, so his feeling of the beauty of Christabel, strong is the hold that superstitious he could have so blurred and marred Fear has of the human heart, entering it in his unfortunate sequel. “My it in the light of a startling beauty, excuse," he says, “ for continuing the while Evil shows itself in a shape of fragment at all, will be found in Coleheaven; and in the shadows that Ge- ridge's own words to the preface of nius throws over it, we know not whe- the 1816 pamphlet edition, where he ther we be looking at Sin or Inno. says, I trust that I shall be able to cence, Guilt or Grief.
embody in verse the three parts yet Coleridge could not complete Chris- to come, in the course of the present tabel. The idea of the poem, no doubt, year'-a half-promise which, I need dwelt always in his imagination-but scarcely observe, has never been rethe poet knew that power was not gi. deemed." Mr Tupper continues:-“In ven him to robe it in words. The the following attempt I may be cenWritten rose up between him and the sured for rashness, or commended for Unwritten; and seeing that it was courage ; of course, I am fully aware, “ beautiful exceedingly," his soul was that to take up the pen where Colesatisfied, and shunned the labour- RIDGE has laid it down, and that in the though a labour of love-of a new wildest and most original of his poems, creation.
is a most difficult, nay, dangerous proTherefore 'tis but a Fragment- ceeding ; but upon these very characand for the sake of all that is most teristics of difficulty and danger I wild and beautiful, let it remain so for humbly rely ; trusting that, in all proever. But we are forgetting our. per consideration for the boldness of selves; as many people as choose may the experiment, if I be adjudged to publish what they call continuations fail, the fall of Icarus may be broken ; and sequels of Christabel - but not if I be accounted to succeed, the flight one of them all will be suffered to live. of Dadalus may apologize for his preIf beyond a month any one of them is sumption." “ Finally," he says, “ I observed struggling to protract its deem it due to myself to add, what I ricketty existence, it will assuredly be trust will not be turned against me, strangled, as we are about to strangle viz. that, if not written literally curMr Tupper's Geraldine.
rente calamo, GERALDINE has been Mr Tupper is a man of talent, and the pleasant labour of but a very few in his Preface writes, on the whole, ju- days. diciously of Christabel. “Every word Mr Tupper does not seem to know tells-every line is a picture : simple, that Christabel “was continued" many beautiful, and imaginative, it retains years ago, in a style that perplexed its hold upon the mind by so many the public and pleased even Coleridge. delicate feelers and touching points, The ingenious writer meant it for a that to outline harshly the main bran. mere jeu de sprit-but “ Geraldine"