arms, enraged at the fallen glory of Britannia upon the high seas, and pestered with a gnawing and restless spleen, that rendered their actions every thing the opposite of amiable. The haughty bearing toward Americans, fostered during the war as much by despotic policy as domineering inclination, was a thing too deeply rooted to be suddenly metamorphosed into more gentle demeanor, even by so important a change in relative position as had then taken place between them and their late foes. In short, they were reckless and without curb; the younger officers, especially, giving full rein to their volatile humor, and often plunging headlong into actions that in wiser moments they themselves regretted.

Cornelia Neville had been long an enthusiastic admirer of SHAKSPEARE, though only now commencing her acquaintance with stage representations. Her favorite, the brilliant comedy of As You Like It; so full of immortal sentiments, as well as elegant wit, graceful playfulness, and harmonious embodiment of character; was the play of the evening; and the delighted girl, with rapt enjoyment, laved and revelled among the musical ripples of Avon. Her dark eye bent its light, through a softening tear that she never sought to dash away, upon the wanderer Orlando, and his old friend Adam; while the next moment her ringing laugh gushed out at the drollery of Touchstone, or her eloquent exclamations were breathed in sympathetic comment upon the 'most humorous sadness' of Jaques. Just after a merry observation among themselves, which had thrown the party into unrestrained laughter, and in which Miss Neville joined with a frank abandon, caught from the generous atmosphere of her father's seat upon the Hudson, a young officer, in the livery of the king, leaned over from the next box, drew aside the drapery, and stared impudently at the lady. Miss Neville, without turning her eyes, was conscious of the rude action, and with that delicate tact which is an amiable refinement of the sex, gave no token of her knowledge. She knew well the fiery temper of the two brothers, and imagined she could prevent their observation of what, if seen by them, would inevitably produce some serious consequence. She drew their attention instantly to the stage, and laughed anew with heartier freedom than ever, rattling off jocose remarks upon costume, gesture, or whatever else caught her eye, with a vivacity as piquant as it was irresistible. The officer gazed into the box for many moments; at length letting the drapery fall, and retiring, as Miss Neville thought, without having been seen by the Percys. Poor girl! she never dreamed that Charles Percy was going through with as excellent a piece of acting as she had herself performed. It is true she succeeded in keeping the attention of Stephen riveted on the passing scene, and apparently the mind of Charles, also; but the quick eye of the lover had seen all, while no clouding of the sunshine upon his brow betrayed the burning indignation suddenly alive within his heart.

'Beautiful! beautiful!' said Charles Percy. O, how the transcendent eloquence of that passage, Cornelia, triumphs even over the tame and soulless manner of the actor! The dolt! He has been dropping gems from his tongue, and does not know it.'

'Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.'

'How touching and how true the thought! how glowing and natural the form of expression! how euphonious the lines!' continued Charles, after repeating them; and yet how inconceivably vapid and dull is the actor who stands before us, the mouth-piece of such music of the brain!'

'In just such tones you may hear a thread-and-needle merchant counting up his charges,' replied the laughing girl; tape, two-and-sixpence; sewing silk, one shilling; satinet, five shillings; needles, twopence; just six-and-eight-pence, Madam !'

Charles laughed again, seemingly in the lightest mood in the world, and quite innocent of the knowledge that any thing had taken place, till after trifling in a gay way a little longer, he suddenly seemed to discover something of interest to him in the open lobby opposite. At this moment boisterous merriment was heard in the box near them. A burning crimson flashed and passed rapidly over the face of Charles Percy.

Stephen, is not that Henry Longworth, standing near that lobby-door to the right?' asked Charles of his brother.

Um? which? O, I see. Yes, that 's Harry,' replied Stephen.

'If Miss Neville will excuse me, I have a communication of some importance to make to him,' said Charles, with a calm smile upon his handsome face.

Will you oblige us by going?' said Stephen Percy; I have a communication myself to make to this fair lady.'

'Pray go, Sir,' said the lady, with mocking entreaty.

'Go!' repeated Stephen; 'allow me to solicit you in the imperative mood to get out!' and rising from his seat, he pushed his brother out of the box. Go on, Mr. Jaques,' said he, soto voce, as he resumed his seat.

Charles Percy hurried around the lobby to his friend. Longworth, come with me!' exclaimed Charles, in an emphatic whisper, snatching the gentleman he addressed by the arm, and hurrying him toward the box where the rude strangers were.

A moment more, and the two young Americans stood in the box alluded to, in presence of five officers in British uniform, who remained seated, Charles Percy having calmly closed the door behind him.

A piece of ungentlemanly rudeness has been committed in this box,' said Percy, in firm and impressive accents. The lady in the next box is one to whom I have the honor of standing in the relation of protector, and

''Pon my soul, my dear fellow, I envy you!' said one of the officers. 'You cannot trifle with me, Sir!' returned Percy, quickly, but still calmly, though a dangerous light shot from his eye as he spoke.

6

6

'Can't say we know you, Mister!' drawled another of the officers. 'You shall know me, Sir!' replied Percy. Gentlemen,' continued he, for I hold you, as officers of the English army, entitled to be so considered, I ask to be informed who drew the curtains from that box, and impudently stared for some moments at a lady with whom he is unacquainted?'

At this, one of the officers who had not before spoken, rose to his feet, exhibiting in the action evident indications of excessive conviviality. 'Sir,' said he, 'you may do me the honor to address yourself to me.'

Then, Sir, as my presence cannot be over agreeable here, and as your conduct has compelled me to leave pleasanter society, you may state as briefly as you please exactly what you meant by demeanor to which you must understand I take most positive exception."

Another officer here rose, and seemed about to commence some violent outbreak, when he who had avowed himself as the offender, laid his hand sternly on his friend's shoulder, and declared in a thick voice that it was his affair. 'Sir,' said he to Percy, with all the absurd dignity of a tipsy man, 'you are, if I am not mistaken, a He was very near saying rebel, but stammered an instant, and finished the interrogatory with an American ?'

Long live the Union! and God bless my country!' said Charles Percy, with an enthusiasm of tone that he scorned to restrain.

'Well, Sir, I must allow that you yet bear very strong similitude to a gentleman. As you intimate that you are in a hurry, and as we can most unanimously grant you leave of absence, I suppose you desire my card?'

That, or an unequivocal apology, Sir.'

The first is most convenient, Mister American,' said the officer, handing his card, which Percy immediately took, putting his own in the Englishman's hand at the same moment. 'Good night!' said the

British officer.

Percy and Longworth bowed and left the box.

CHAPTER SECOND.

THERE is a manner of forgiving so divine, that you are ready to embrace the offender for having called it forth.'

LAVATER.

"THUS does the ever-changing course of things
Run a perpetual circle, ever turning;

And that same day that highest glory brings,

Brings us but to the point of back returning! DANIEL'S CLEOPATRA.

THE nuptials of Charles Percy and Cornelia Neville had been agreed upon with great joy, not only by the destined bride and groom, but by their two families, and their whole circle of connections and friends. The approaching union of the young couple seemed to present a broad and manifest contradiction of the old poet's assertion, that the course of true love never did run smooth;' for never did two hearts twine more fondly and firmly around each other, and never did the world seem more free from any semblance of obstacle to the happiness that true love sighed for. Alas! how blind are we to the stupendous changes the turning of an hour-glass may weave in the frail tissue of our destiny! Wonderful as the mechanism of the eye, delicate as the fabrication of beautiful spots upon the wing of a butterfly, is the microscopic

multitude of undreamed of events that move the hearts of men and the destinies of nations in the quick passing of a single moment!

The morning after the incident at the theatre, related in our first chapter, Charles Percy was called upon by Col. Stanford, a young officer in His Majesty's service, whose family rank at home and high reputation in the army went hand in hand to confer upon him honor. He was accompanied by two friends, two of those who were in the box with him the evening before, and he held in his hand the challenge sent to him that morning by young Percy. In the frank spirit of a brave soldier, and with the graceful ease of a gentleman, Col. Stanford addressed his challenger:

Mr. Percy, two of the gentlemen who were with me in the theatre last evening, accompany me now. The other two could not conveniently attend me, or I would have rejoiced that you should see them here also, to hear me most sincerely declare my regret for the occurrence of last evening. I will not ask you to spare me the humiliating confession that imprudence had rendered me for a time forgetful of respect for myself and others, for a man's shame should be in committing an error and not in its acknowledgment. I behaved uncourteously, Sir, to the annoyance of a lady and yourself. Through you, permit me to solicit from that lady her gentle pardon, and let me entreat you, Sir, to accord me henceforth what I so idly forfeited in a foolish moment, the estimation of a gentleman.'

The sunlight of a noble soul rose and spread like the loveliest hue of morning over the classic brow of Charles Percy; quick in forgiveness as in anger, he stepped forward, extending his hand to Stanford.

And did the cloud here vanish from the ethereal blue, which threatened to lower so darkly over the long holiday life that rosy Love seemed preparing for Charles and Cornelia? Was such the lofty spirit actuating British officers in revolutionary times? Alas! the cloud did but fade away thinly, to gather again with lightning in its breast of darkness, and hurl more fatally its bolt of wild destruction. One superior soul will more often cast glory upon others of meaner mould around, than those others will honorably emulate the excellence that lights them into notice. The story will show.

A moment, Sir, before you give your hand,' said Col. Stanford. 'It may matter little, but I feel a desire to be open as the day with you, and therefore am impelled to explain, that my brother officers do not sanction the course that, in opposition to their sentiments, I have adopted in this affair. Two of them, in fact, have refused to be present here at all, and the gentlemen with me attend reluctantly at my earnest request. You will believe, Sir, that nothing but an immoveable conviction of justice and propriety in what I do, could induce me to act so directly against the wishes of my companions in arms.'

'Col. Stanford,' said Percy, 'I have no quarrel, and I seek none with your friends. Your brave and honorable conduct has made me rather a petitioner for regard than a seeker after redress, and I can rejoice more in taking your hand as a friend than your life as an offender. Furthermore, Sir, let me avow that in soliciting a deadly meeting with

you, I yielded only to the exaction of a custom which in heart and reason I can never acknowledge.'

The hand of the young American was seized by the English officer, and the pledge of friendship was exchanged with equal warmth; soon after which the interview terminated; Stanford departing with his two friends, who bowed stiffly to Percy as they left, without having uttered a syllable.

Six months had nearly rolled away, and the appointed bridal day of Percy and Miss Neville was approaching, when one day a letter, postmarked Montreal,' and directed to Charles Percy,' was put into his hands. It was from Stanford; demanding, entreating, imploring, that the fatal meeting they once avoided should now take place! Let those who can, imagine the wonder, horror, and consternation of Charles Percy! Stanford wrote that he was preparing to follow his letter instantly to New-York. His life had been rendered wretched, he said; he had been slighted, cut, contemptuously treated, by his brother officers: society shunned him like a thing of disease. A brand was upon him; the finger of scorn pointed after him; and the shallow foplings of the day stared through their eye-glasses at the cowardly officer who had disgraced the British uniform and basely apologised to an American! a miserable Yankee rebel! Even his family in England had in correspondence betrayed too plainly, what in pity those once kind ones endeavored awkwardly to conceal, their cruel and blood-freezing estrangement. Stanford wrote in phrenzy. Explanation or argument with his sneering persecutors was in vain, for they would either not listen to him, or hear him with a cold look and no reply. He confessed that he trembled for his sanity, yet half felt that loss of reason would be relief. from present horror of mind. Growing wilder, he owned that all his miseries clamored now around one haunting idea; he had lost friends, country, home, regard, affection; he was despised, spurned, down-trodden; a solitary wretch, who could not raise his eyes without meeting contempt from the proud and more degrading pity from the mean; and the young New-Yorker, Charles Percy, was the cause!

Col. Stanford had left New-York the day after his noble reconciliation with Percy, and had remained in Canada the whole of this interim. Three days after his letter had been received, he arrived himself in New-York, and instantly despatched a cold and formal challenge to the man for whom his heart yearned, and whom society sentenced him to hunt into the grave as his bitterest enemy! Percy received the hostile message, and went at once to see his challenger in person. He thought the calm influence of humanity and reason, and the teaching of a higher philosophy, might be brought to bear upon the excited mind of poor Stanford; but his generous attempt was fruitless. Stanford would not see him. He wrote to the unhappy officer; his letters came back unopened. Every conceivable method was tried by Percy to change the aspect of this extraordinary position into which Stanford had forced him, until finding every thing else fail, he at length flatly refused the chal lenge. It was soon clear that this would not avert the danger, for Stanford threatened desperate vengeance in some way if he was not met in the manner he desired, swearing that as life was only agony to him