CHILDE HAROLDE.

(Subject of the Plate.)

IT is the hush of night, and all between
Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear,
Mellow'd and mingling, yet distinctly seen,
Save darken'd Jura, whose capt heights appear
Precipitously steep; and drawing near,

There breathes a living fragrance from the shore,
Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar,
Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more;

He is an evening reveller, who makes
His life an infancy, and sings his fill;
At intervals, some bird from out the brakes
Starts into voice a moment, then is still.
There seems a floating whisper on the hill,
But that is fancy, for the starlight dews
All silently their tears of love instil,
Weeping themselves away, till they infuse
Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.

Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
If in your bright leaves we would read the fate
Of men and empires,-'tis to be forgiven,
That in our aspirations to be great,
Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state,
And claim a kindred with you; for ye are
A beauty and a mystery, and create

In us such love and reverence from afar,

That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.

All heaven and earth are still-though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most;
And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep:-
All heaven and earth are still: From the high host
Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast,
All is concenter'd in a life intense,

Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,
But hath a part of being, and a sense

Of that which is of all Creator and defence.

THE DEJEUNE; OR; COMPANION FOR THE BREAKFAST TABLE.

No. III. New Series.

HENRY DALTON.

A Manuscript found among the posthumous papers of a Suicide.

My name is Henry Dalton. I was born in the village of Llandisent, a romantic spot situated in the centre of South Wales. My family was of good extraction and independent fortune, and I, the murderer, was their sole child. The consequence may be probably anticipated. I was indulged in every variety of amusement that the caprice of boyhood suggested, and reached the years of manhood a slave to the most ardent passions. At the early age of sixteen I entered myself a fellow commoner of Trinity College, Cambridge. Life, with all its pleasures, was before me; I saw only the roses, not the thorns of its path, and resolved to pluck them while yet they bloomed. As it was not my intention to try for college honors, I had ample leisure to enjoy the festivities of an university. My father's vanity supplied me with abundant means, and assemblies, theatres, billiards, and the turf, engrossed every hour of the day. Among the number of my acquaintances (dare I call them friends?) was a young man by name Fortescue. He was a professed roué, a man of honor, as it is called, with men, a libertine among women. Under his auspices I appeared on the November turf, sported bets on the Riddlesworth, became a noted character at the Jockey club, and on one memorable occasion, when flushed with wine and elated by the prospect of a splendid notoriety, had the honor of losing six hundred pounds to a Duke.

What was I to do? Application to my father was useless, for I had but lately received a remittance, accompanied for the first time with complaints of my extravagance. Immediate payment was necessary, but appeared impossible. "You are unfortunate, Dalton," said Fortescue, to whom I imparted my distress, accompanied with a request for a loan; "but I will try to accommodate you with two hundred pounds, and we will both try our luck at in London." I accepted the offer with alacrity, and after calling on his Grace to say that in a few days I would be ready with his money, set out with my fidus Achates for the Metropolis. The rooms in street were well filled when we entered, every convenience for gambling, Rouge et Noir, Hazard, &c. being seductively arrayed on the different tables. The whole had the effect of enchantment: I was dazzled, bewildered by the splendor, staked my two hundreds, neck or nothing, at Rouge et Noir, and before the evening was concluded, came off the triumphant winner of eight hundred pounds. My extacy at sight of my retrieved finances was indescribable; I repaid my loan to Fortescue, who had been equally fortunate, finished the night with a magnificent entertainment, and returned the next morning to Cambridge, exulting in the ability to redeem my honor with the Duke.

A few months thus rolled on, varied only by the alternate joys and

disappointments of a spendthrift's life, for Fortescue, like some malign influence, had effectually fastened on my feelings. We accompanied each other to the Chesterton billiard rooms, the Huntingdon assemblies, the Newmarket race-course, and thence to the varied resorts of fashion or debauchery in the metropolis, where we saw life in it's most refined and degraded forms. Still, notwithstanding all this, I was far from being totally depraved. Oh no! my mind at times felt formed for higher pursuits, and often when I have appeared to superficial observers the life and soul of conviviality, my heart has been bleeding inwardly with remorse.

In process of time my relations died, and I succeeded to the family estate. It was then clear of mortgages: would to God that it had continued so! But my evil genius hurried me with Fortescue to that hotbed of profligacy, Paris, where as usual I managed to become desperately involved. Day after day, week after week, I applied to my steward for money, until all possibility of further remittances entirely ceased. Among other intelligent companions, I met at the Palais Royal with an English officer of dragoons. He was a man of the strictest integrity, but addicted like myself to the infatuation of gaming. Still he never suffered it to trespass beyond his means, which enabled him by their lavish abundance to indulge every variety of amusement. To him, on a fatal night I

mortgaged the remnants of my patrimonial property, and after some further intimacy, returned with him to his country-seat in Devonshire, where he studiously endeavoured to wean me from my libertinism and generously promised, on condition of amendment, to return me my estate. Among other society that he allured to Vale Royal (the name of his country residence) to beguile my bitterness of mind was his sister Amelia, a beautiful girl of seventeen, and the heiress of a small demesne in the neighbourhood of Box Hill. The pen lingers in my hand while I retrace this part of my narrative. It is like the breath of spring blowing over a leafless desert, but like that too it has passed away, and sheds sweetness in my path no more. I was for some time in company with the sister of my friend before I felt the full force of her attractions. We walked, we read, we conversed together, and still I was ignorant of the nature of the spell that detained me at Vale Royal. But one evening, when I hinted to B- my intention of returning to the continent, I saw a tear glistening in the blue eyes of his sister. I felt confused-I know not why; and after some incoherent expressions quitted the room. It was evening: the moon was up, and instinctively I rambled to the little summer-house where I had last parted from Amelia. The light tones of a harp echoed from the spot it was a plaintive air, and she knew that I admired it. I could no longer mistake the nature of my feelings: I saw before me the only woman I had ever loved, the only one who had ever acknowledged partiality for me. Could I resist the opportunity? No! let it suffice to say, that in a short time she became my wife, and for once I believed that I was happy.

We continued at Vale Royal until the marriage ceremony was concluded, and then returned to Llandisent, which my friend, according to his promise, had restored. For the first few months I felt contented with my situation, but as the novelty ceased, the irksomeness of mono