the form of the external ear concentrates the vibrations, | knowing her to be a kind good woman, and always friendly and sends them inward through the channel to the to me, because I sewed for her four young children when membrane of the tympanum; that the membrane is she was sick, I wrote the other day, just to ask her if thus set into vibration; that air is admitted to the she knew of any little situation where one might earn drum through the eustachian tube, to counteract this bread in an honest way, for you know there is a large pressure; that the chain of little bones communicates family at home, and no work for any but William. And these vibrations to the membrane at the inner end of here," continued the girl, producing an open letter, "she the drum; that this in its turn communicates a tremor tells me that she wants an assistant in the shop, and, if to a limpid fluid contained in the cavities of the I go up to London, she will teach me her business, and labyrinth; and lastly, that the nervous tissues in con- give me a small salary after the first year." tact with this liquid, convey to the brain those peculiar impressions which we call sound. But how the various gradations and qualities of sound, whether noisy or musical, are thus detected by the ear, we shall probably never know.

nearer her own station; but as the girl chose differently, | Alice picked up their living by all sorts of small industhe only dowry vouchsafed to her was the indignation and dislike of her family, including her elder sister, who had been but a month before satisfactorily married to Mr. Robert George Lacy, the village attorney, and third cousin to the Squire of Willowbrook hall; for where was there ever an English village without a hall and a squire? The sisters had been the only girls of their family: born among many boys, in childhood they had dressed their dolls together, and in youth arranged their curls at the same glass, (for farm houses were scarce of mirrors in those days,) but the currents of their wedded years flowed far apart, for the barriers of style and station rose between them. Mrs. Lacy inhabited a house of two stories, kept what in Willowbrook was called a drawingroom, and sported "her one-horse chaise and bit of livery," as the Caudle papers have it; while Mrs. Walton's dwelling-place was a low cottage, apart from the rest of the village, and standing alone under the old willow trees on the very margin of the stream: but it was covered with rose and honey-suckle, had flowers in the front and a neat garden in the rear all Willowbrook knew that she kept no servant, and the family (for such things will come,) walked to church every Sunday" on their feet like other people," as an observing dame of the neighbourhood was wont to remark.

Such distinctions were sufficient to mark the respective positions of the sisters, particularly as Mr. Lacy was known to be the Squire's man of law. But in two things, at least, they were equal; first, that their children increased and grew like olive plants, if not much faster; and secondly, that they never thought of laying up any provision for their future days: but time, at length, still more equalized the fortunes of the growing branches. Mrs. Walton passed from her rose-covered cottage to a green grave, at the birth of her sixth child, and her poor husband, whose heart still held fast the love of his stealthy wooings, struggled on awhile with the desolation of his home, and followed her within the year, leaving five almost infant girls to the care of the older and only brother, William, a boy still in the years when tops and balls are precious, and marbles have an intrinsic value. Mrs. Lacy had but little time to mourn the sister from whom fortune had so far estranged her, for the great destroyer entered her own dwelling also, and Mr. Lacy, in the midst of his apparently prosperous business, and village greatness, was suddenly summoned from this world by a fever, leaving his affairs embarrassed to such a degree that the sale of his effects scarcely paid his creditors, and his wife with seven children to provide for, besides her own singularly genteel ideas and rather useless habits of course, friends and relations assembled to do what they could for the widow, and the result of their combined abilities was, that she and her family were placed in a small house, much like that occupied by the Walton's, though not so neatly kept, with some poor remnants of their former furniture, and the first-born Robert, (for by a curious coincidence of circumstances, Mrs. Lacy's children had amongst them but one boy, and he was the eldest,) was placed as an apprentice with Mr. Selby, a draper, who had lately set up in the village a shop which, like the rod of Aaron, swallowed up all its former establishments, for the like of it had never been seen in Willowbrook.

But the Waltons had no friends to take care of them; for their father had no relations but one married sister, a poor char-woman with a drunken husband, and, having lost her first baby, she took the youngest child to nurse in its place. Their mother's relatives looked coldly on the tradesman's children, and generally recommended the workhouse; but the orphans preferred their old cottage, and the owner (for such deeds of hopeful charity are still known amongst men,) allowed them to remain in it, free of all charges, till time or fortune should enable them to pay. But young William had learned something of his father's trade, and Agnes, who happened to be their eldest girl, could sew a little; Ellen, and Mary, and

try;-sometimes they went errands, and sometimes they went where people's wits are said to go-"a wool-gathering," like the children of the "Shepherd of Salisbury Plain," for Willowbrook was a pasture district, and sheep will leave wool on the bushes. So the orphan family lived on through many a summer, and many a winter too, for poverty can make out life in the country. At times they received assistance from some kind neighbours, who still remembered old friendship, and their dead parents; but often they had none except that of Providence, who, like the old world's Jupiter, still helps those that help themselves; and at length little Elizabeth came to join their company, for her good aunt finished her washing days, just when the little girl was able to go a wool-gathering with her sisters. But every year added strength to their hands, and means to their resources, for time is the trust of the young. As William grew older, his skill and employment increased, till his praise was in all the parish as a good and trusty tradesman. Agnes was in requisition by all who were fastidious in shirts, caps, or baby linen, and there was a taste for such things even in Willowbrook. Her sisters, one after another, became expert in the use of the needle, and added to the family finances by the practice ef every useful art, from "straw plait," up to "Berlin;" and the Walton's were known as a decent, industrious family, who paid their own way, and wanted nothing but work from the world.

How the Lacys lived was for some time a problem to the whole village, for Robert was still in his apprenticeship, and Mrs..Lacy promulgated the fact, that "her girls, poor things! could do nothing for themselves," and nothing certainly they did that could bring in a farthing. Her own time, as well as that of her eldest daughter, was occupied by perpetually washing and patching up the remains of old finery, for the purpose of enabling that young lady to appear to advantage. As for the junior branches of the family, they were very seldom visible.

In the days of their mamma's glory, they had all, including the baby, (for, of course, there was one,) been daily exhibited on the village street, under the conduct of a very loud-speaking nurse, who drew the attention of both strangers and natives to the magnificence of their frocks, hats, and feathers. But those days were past, with all their grandeur, and Mrs. Lacy's chief care was now to keep them as much out of sight as possible, and fast shut up in the cottage, lest, as she expressed it, "they might learn bad habits, by associating with the children of common people;" for, Reader, the exclusive spirit hath its temples every where. To be sure, this arrangement did not much improve either the health or tempers of her little girls; but what are such considerations to prudent and determined mammas, compared with the indulgence of their own caprices or vanity? however, the grand mystery of Willowbrook was at length solved, for it became generally known that the family received an allowance in a quiet way from the parish, and, besides, sundry contributions from all who came within the pale of relationship, out of which consolidated fund Mrs. Lacy occasionally purchased white pinafores and gaycoloured calicoes, destined to be washed every second day; for the most merciless wearers of her household supplied their wants in the provision line, and drank tea at least three times per diem.

But the years that passed over the Lacy's, in paltry dependence, petty jealousies, bitter disputes, and all the mean miseries of an idle community, shut up in their poverty both of mind and purse, brought changes, though not bright ones, to Robert; he was naturally of a gentle and patient disposition, and his mother had so earnestly impressed upon him, that he was to be the staff of her age, and the support of his sisters, that Robert seemed to regard himself as a staff in good earnest, on which the weight of the whole family must lean.

Doubtless there was ballast enough in that connexion

Some said that Robert was foolish for thinking of a girl so poor as Agnes, and others that Agnes was too wise to think of him; but none remarked that young Master Lently, the tallest of the rector's boarders, (for the good pastor of Willowbrook eked out his limited income by a private seminary,) sat directly opposite her in church, and was sure to bid her good-morrow at every stile in her many walks of necessity.

to keep his youth steady; for, from a frank and handsome | long sittings and late hours. They knew also that he boy, he grew up a sober and very subdued young man, walked to and from church by her side in his wellanxious to succeed, and extremely attentive to business: brushed though rather threadbare coat, for Robert's such boys are always sure to please their employers'; wardrobe was not extensive; but the sight or mention and, as soon as Robert's apprenticeship expired, Mr. of a wedding always made him look strangely sad, like Selby engaged him as a shopman, with the usual amount one who felt he could not afford to marry. of salary given by country drapers; but, small as that amount was, it would have left poor Robert savings, besides the supply of his own simple wants. However, such was not the destiny of his earnings, for, no sooner did the parish authorities discover that Mrs. Lacy's son was in the receipt of money, than they stopped the supplies; the few relations, whose patience was not already exhausted, also refused to be further taxed, on the same account. And Mrs. Lacy and Miss Charlotte, who now stood on the threshold of womanhood, with the deep-rooted consciousness that she was Attorney Lacy's daughter, and therefore could do nothing for her own support, patched and mangled, and drank tea as heretofore accustomed, till one penny of poor Robert's quarter's salary never beheld the succeeding quarter paid and the good dame spent most of her leisure hours in lamenting that it was not in her power to send her little girls to Miss Green's nice day-school, where deportment and all sorts of fancy work were taught for two shillings a month, and observed to a friend who hinted that girls might learn to read at the charity school, "that Attorney Lacy's daughters could not be seen in such a place: no reading at all was better than that, for she knew those who had lived and married well without much learning, and Charlotte could teach her sisters, any way."

How Miss Charlotte fulfilled the duties of a governess we cannot tell, never having seen the fruits of her instruction; but one thing is certain, that, having a good deal of unoccupied time, the young lady improved her own mind with all the novels she could either buy or borrow, and took a special pleasure in reading the adventures of young noblemen, who were captivated by lovely faces seen through cottage windows; for in the truth of such tales both she and her mamma had an unwavering faith, particularly when they ended with a peal of bells, a bridal procession, and the instantaneous transformation of a young and beautiful peasant girl into a jewelled countess. At times indeed it seemed to have entered into their calculations that one of those marvellously rare events might occur in their own history; but Robert had no such visions; he laboured on with persevering though uncrowned industry: never was there a youth more anxious to learn or less prodigal of his gains, but the burthen was beyond his strength, and in spite of every effort the helpless dependent family continued pinched and poor. Meantime the village matrons observed that he was a discreet and deserving young man, and the girls hinted it was a pity he had so many sisters, for Robert was handsome and good, and the only amusement he sought, after the long toil of his busy day, was an evening visit to the cottage of the Waltons.

Mrs. Lacy had recollected their near relationship ever since her fortune sunk to the same level. The families in consequence became intimate as cousins ought to be, and the Waltons were found very useful in the way of small loans, and other obligations, which were not always returned, though the good dame remarked, in the secresy of her own heart," one could not forget they were a mere tradesman's children, and no equals for her family, who had seen better days."

But Robert seemed to think his best hours were spent beside the small open window where Agnes used to work. Young men will fall in love, however far it may be beyond their means, and the girls of the neighbourhood, always keen in such matters, could tell how his eye followed her light active figure, when his step was limited by the shop threshold, as she passed on those numberless errands that keep the early rose on the cheek of the young country needlewoman, in spite of

Master Lently was the son of a London merchant; his father had higher views for him than the countinghouse, for an estate and title were the crowning visions of all the old man's commercial speculations. Frederic, for that was the boy's name, was his only heir, and, being particularly anxious for religious and moral training, he committed his education for some years to his old acquaintance, the peaceful and the easytempered Rector of Willowbrook, for the old merchant was firmly convinced that boys could learn no evil in the country.

Master Lently was now eighteen, and talked much of setting out for Cambridge or Oxford, but still he did not go, and Agnes encountered him by the green lanes and hedge-rows oftener than usual. From frequent meetings she had formed a sort of acquaintance with the young gentleman, just sufficient to answer his good morning, and remark on the state of the weather; and, if her smile was more brief and bright than that bestowed on her sober and paternal cousin, Agnes knew too well the barriers that rose between their stations, and never permitted them to be passed, though Lently was said to be the best-natured and handsomest boy in the parish. But she was already sixteen, her young sisters were growing up around her, and all their arts could only keep want out of the cottage, besides, work would fail at times among so many hands, and, though William's earnings were on the increase, he called himself a man now, and cast long looks on Rose White, the blacksmith's eldest daughter. Agnes saw this, and had for some time contemplated resigning her office of chief needlewoman of Willowbrook, to her next sister, Ellen, who was now fully competent to fill it; but the prudent take no steps without making sure of their ground, and she accordingly consulted Mrs. Carleton.

That lady was, as Agnes had said, an officer's widow, whom disease had overtaken in her journey to London, where she intended to join her relations; her route lay through Willowbrook, and, as her funds were low, she found accommodations suited to them in the neat cottage of the Waltons, who practised a sort of subletting with the better part of their dwelling, in order to discharge their obligations to the kind owner who had spared their weaker days.

Mrs. Carleton was one of those who believe the world owes us all a living, and are determined to recover the debt. Her relations were people of business, and with their assistance she opened a handsome retail shop, in one of the quiet but respectable streets of the capital. Well might Agnes rejoice over her letter, for it was the return of "bread cast upon the waters," with the memory of many a kind and careful deed done to the sickly woman and her orphan children. Such things will come back; but blessed are their goings forth even when they never return.

Short and hasty were the young girl's preparations, for Mrs. Carleton had said, the sooner she came the better; but the Lacys were in still greater haste disseminating the news, for news were scarce in Willowbrook, and therefore highly valued. All the village wished well to Agnes, but some joined in Mrs. Lacy's opinion that "she was very bold," and many wondered with Charlotte that she wasn't afraid. But another morn

ing, at a still earlier hour, found her come to take leave of the Lacy's. She had got the farewells and good wishes of all Willowbrook, the rector and his pupils included; and Frederick Lently was out unusually early that morning, walking backwards and forwards in front of The Golden Deer," where the southern stage stopped on its way to London. Agnes had taken an outside seat, but the good people of Willowbrook thought that Frederick expected his father; however that might be, Agnes Walton made her parting arrangements; she gave her brother William a watchguard for himself, and a "Billen bag" for Rose, bestowed upon Ellen her cheap work box with all its well-worn appurtenances, kissed all her little sisters, and promised to look out for places for them in London; and-Readers, they were not afraid took solemn farewell of all the Lacys, who were assembled in the parlour, and crying on the occasion; only Robert, for he stood at the door ready and determined to see her to the coach, which now came thundering on with all the temporary stir and tumult which a passing stage can create in the street of a quiet village: and, after many prayers not to think of going all alone, from the weeping Charlotte, mingled with the mother's strong recommendations to just come straight back to her brother if she found London in the least disagreeable," Agnes wiped her eyes, slipped her arm in that of Robert, who drew it kindly in with "God bless and prosper you, Agnes; I know you'll come to something yet, and get some great match in London, but I'll never forget you," said the young shopman, as he helped her up to her outside place, about which Frederic Lently was marvellously busy, but all the world knew that he was good natured. Thank you, Mr. Lently. Cousin, farewell!" said Agnes; and away drove the southern stage, in all the glory and importance of being the coach to London, for railways had never risen on the dreams of Willow-studded with innumerable villas and hamlets, and the brook.

| the freshness of the air, and the repose of nature, acting on the mind gave impetus to his powers. He sat down from time to time on the bank of the river, and rested against the mulberry-trees on its border, an object of silent curiosity and inspection to the patrols, and little caring as to the hour of his arrival at Lecco; but sympathy for his condition and alarm for his safety brought people from the town to his assistance. They had been alarmed by the report of the driver of the carriage, and, as they said, humanity would not allow them to leave a sick man on the road exposed to the violence of the storm which they were assured was approaching; nor were they mistaken, for shortly after they reached Lecco, lightning and distant thunder announced its vicinity. Soon the rain fell, and continued to fall in torrents for five hours, amidst lightning that lit up the surrounding mountains with a lurid glare, and peals of thunder, which boomed and echoed among them in a continuous roll.

(To be continued.)

THE PASSAGE OF THE SPLÜGEN.

A FRAGMENT.

No person can pass from Milan to Lecco without being struck with the singular beauty of the scenery, increasing at each step in variety of feature and in richness of landscape. The hills, gently undulating, are clothed with trees of the richest verdure, from which vines hang in a succession of festoons, or are trained as roofed terraces, among which cottages and villas of the most dazzling whiteness sparkle in their softened outlines. A higher range of grey rock, on the crags of which many an ancient ruin frowns on the peaceful scene beneath, rises in the middle distance, preparing the eye by a fitting and natural gradation for the stupendous forms and snowy crests of the distant Alps. The Adda, winding in its course through the narrowed vallies, gives additional life to the scene, now rich and bright in pastoral beauty, but still recollected as one of rapine and horror while occupied by the French army during its Italian campaigns.

The writer of this little sketch performed this journey on a splendid evening of last summer, and it will be long, sufferer even as he was from acute illness, before the recollection of that gorgeous sunset, and the calm repose of that hour, will be effaced from his memory. Imperceptibly night drew on, but there was no darkness, for hardly had the Alps to the west lost the bright pink tinge of the setting sun, than those to the east were lit up by the brilliancy of the moon at its full, throwing a long flood of dancing light on the ripple of the Adda. He hardly regretted the circumstance, though in his then helpless state the position promised discomfort, if not danger, but the motion of the carriage became so insupportable, that he was compelled to alight, and to allow the vehicle to continue its course, while he feebly followed it at intervals, as

The morning broke fine and cloudless, and nature was bright and fresh from the effects of the storm. The traveller mustered his energies, and engaged a little carriage to take him to Varenna, a small town on lake Como, where he proposed to join the steamboat, and to proceed in it to the end of the lake. Varenna has nothing to recommend it but its position and scenery. The church, and here and there a white building, alone distinguish it from the rock of which it otherwise seems to form a part, and which is fringed with olive and lemon trees, and cypresses of enormous growth and towering height.

Anticipating the appearance of the steamer, the traveller embarked in a small boat in order to enjoy uninterruptedly the beauty of the panorama, the green waters of the lake, the sloping hills, densely wooded with oak and chestnut-trees to their summit, and

towering Alps in the back ground, beneath whose snowy tops wreaths of cloud and vapour winded slowly along, like mysterious spirits in those inaccessible regions; but a strong gale, rushing through a ravine, accompanied with mist and rain, so agitated the waters, that the boatmen were alarmed and turned to gain the shore; he, however, compelled them to bring the head of the boat to the wind and to await the steamer. Resolution prevailed and the point was gained, but at the expense of a complete soaking to himself and luggage.

The storm soon passed, and again all was sunshine and beauty, and in less than two hours the steamer was moored along side the rude quay at Colico, a little rough spot at the navigable extremity of the lake. Here difficulties seemed to increase, for the place boasted but of one carriage, which was already engaged, and the diligence only passed through at midnight, so as to reach Chiavenna at six in the morning, in order to have the advantage of daylight to ascend the pass of the Splügen, and to get clear of the defile of the Via Mala. The request to be permitted to join in the solitary carriage was courteously acceded to, the driver having stipulated to take the party with whom the traveller was now associated, to Chiavenna at all risks, by boat or otherwise, if the report of a bridge on the road having been washed away should prove correct. For about two hours every thing progressed favourably, and the party were congratulating themselves on the storm of the previous evening, which had brought the mountain-torrents and waterfalls into full activity, some dashing madly through the gullies, and others either falling in a sheer stream from a precipitous height, or winding gently down the side of the mountains like silver threads, when suddenly the carriage came to a dead stop.

Here the work of devastation had begun, for an inconsiderable stream, swollen by the sudden and vast addition to its waters, and boiling furiously along, sweeping away trees and vineyards in its course, had covered the once cultivated surface with stones and rocks,