to a strange confessor for a remission of his mortal sins. Count Valençay admitted himself to be every way an offender ;-intemperate, debauched, a gambler, a seducer of innocence; and among other crimes which he charged against himself, was a pretended marriage with a pretended niece of a canon of Notre Dame; for whom he admitted the utmost violence of a criminal attachment.-Lucile is about to become a mother,' said he, in the unreservedness of confession; and her child will become fatherless, and herself a castaway, should I fall tomorrow. Am I to be forgiven?'

"Père Anselme wrung his hands and sobbed aloud at this declaration; while Valençay, attributing the good man's despair to the unction of his zeal, implored his intercessions with Heaven for the more than widow who was about to be left to the evil-dealing of a cruel world. He demanded also absolution, and Père Anselme trembled while he pronounced the words of grace; he had not, indeed, so trembled since the day when he first learned the elopement of his wife with Clement Manoury, of Martinique !

"That night, on his return home, Christophe the mulatto received orders from his master to light the fire of a small furnace erected at one end of the little garden attached to the Canon's house, where, during the winter days, he was wont to amuse himself by the exercise of his skill in smithery, such as the manufacture of curious locks and safetybolts, which he often caused to be sold for the benefit of the poor. During the summer, he usually devoted his leisure to other pursuits; and what might be the cause of his selecting a fine midsummer night for the renewal of his occupation no one could guess. Till morning, however, the bellows of the forge were heard in operation, andt hen, instead of retiring to rest after his unaccountable exertions, Père Anselme went forth to his daily duties, having charged his servants with certain household services to be performed during his absence, and taken with him the key of the house-door, in order to enforce the commands he had already issued, that none should pass the threshold during his absence. He desired also that the morning and evening meal of Lucile might be served to her as usual; nor did he return at night till his daughter had retired to rest. But there was nothing in all this to occasion surprise to Lucile; her thoughts indeed were otherwise engrossed, and had they been free for cogitation, she knew that the time of the Canon was just then doubly engaged with the duties of his brother

Cure.

"She was wrapt in sleep when, at midnight, he re-entered the house, and a sleep so heavy, that she observed not an unusual sound in an uninhabited chamber on the opposite side of the corridor from her own, the walls of which abutted against those of a public hospital. Heavy, ay, heavy indeed must those slumbers have been, that heard not stones displaced and replaced-the blows of the heavy mallet-the smart strokes of the sledge hammer, which so strangely disturbed the rest of the old mulatto.

"On the morrow, at an early hour, a hired berline stood at the Canon's door; and when the lovely but pale and wan Lucile made her appearance at the breakfast-table, the Canon bid her with a grim smile prepare for a holiday. Together they ascended the carriage, but her eager inquiries could obtain no clue to their destination. Be satisfied,'

replied Anselme in a hoarse voice; you will discover anon. I have secured to you a day of pleasure.'

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At length she perceived that they had passed the barriers of the city, and were ascending the heights of Charonne. In another minute's space they were following a splendid funeral procession, that took its way towards the cemetery of Mont Louis. The hearse was covered with gorgeous escutcheons-the noblest armorial bearings of ancient France graced the long train of carriages following the dead-and as the cortège stopped at the gates of the cemetery, Lucile perceived that a sword and belt, a coronet and cushion, were placed upon the coffin.

"Involuntarily she gave vent to expressions of interest, as with a pale face she gazed upon the solemn scene-involuntarily evinced her curiosity as to the name of the hero about to be consigned to the dust. She addressed herself to her uncle,' but Père Anselme was reciting aloud his prayers for the dead, whom the priests, with their crosses and banners, had come forth to welcome to the grave. Their driver now prepared to let down the steps, having received previous orders from the canon.

"Whose obsequies are these?' inquired Lucile with faltering accents, as she prepared to place her foot on the step.

""Tis the burial of the young Count Valençay, Aide-de-Camp to his Majesty, who fell yesterday in a duel at Montrouge,' replied the man in a careless tone; he was the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; yet 'tis said that he hazarded his life in a drunken quarrel, for a worthless actress.'

But he spoke to unheedful ears; Lucile lay senseless at the bottom of the carriage, and when the miserable girl recovered her powers of recollection, she found herself in a strange room, chained by her right hand to a bare wall, a loaf of bread, a vessel of water, and a missal, lying by her side. Even then, she neither heard, nor saw, nor felt distinctly; strange words sounded in her ears-a figure which she deemed to be that of her uncle stalked before her, proclaiming himself her father, and addressing her in opprobrious terms and with fearful denunciations that fell meaningless upon her heart. Yet the accusations were full, too full of truth; and the invectives with which he accosted the dying girl were such as defile the ears of the lowest of her fallen sex.

"True child of an abandoned mother,' cried he- of a mother who deserted thy cradle for the arms of a paramour-of a mother whom I abandoned all ties of nature and country to punish as she deserved-thy doom is decreed! I forewarned her, yet she fell! I told her that so surely as she dared to outrage her vows of matron chastity, the hand of my vengeance should be heavy on her-that her blood should flow drop by drop in atonement for her sin; and so it did, and I beheld it, and was content. Then returned I to Europe, in the hope that the sorrows of my youth might be compensated by a tranquil old age, passed in the bosom of my child. And thou, too, Lucile, did I forewarn! I ventured not to assume over thee a father's authority, lest peradventure the babbling of those who surrounded thy childhood should have described him to thee as harsh and intemperate; but as a near kinsman-as a spiritual teacher-my voice was loud in thine ears, with exhortations against the evil promptings of the salt blood of thy mother flowing in thy veins; yet thou hast fallen, and the ruin of my house is accomplished-my last hope withered-my last joy defiled! Out on thee, castaway, out on

thee! For thee, even for thee, shall there be no mrecy-no ear of pity for thy bewailing-no heart of flesh for thine anguish. My own hand, a father's hand, forged the snares that hold thee fast; and now will I feast mine eyes on the sufferings of thy penance. Despair and die!"

"To all these outrages Lucile had no other reply than the name of him whom she believed to have been her husband. To die was all indeed that she desired; but despair she could not, for she trusted that death would reunite her to the object of her soul's affections. Her mind was at times perturbed, at times lucid; but of her peculiar jeopardy she knew and could comprehend nothing. It was all a miserable confusion of suffering-of terror-of darkness-of desperation!

"At length came the appointed hour-the hour of a mother's agony; and all night the lonely creature writhed and struggled with her pain, her miserable right hand still fettered within the master-bolt; but towards morning her moans grew fainter, and the feeble wail of a new-born child was added to the sound. Lucile was still alive when her father entered the room, and her dying eyes re-opened in fearful dilation only to witness the paroxysm of disgust with which he crushed into nothingness the tender frame of that offspring of shame. It was well perhaps the miserable babe should die, for already it was an orphan.

"That night, Anselme Lanoue watched beside the dead-the young mother with her little infant laid upon her arm, and a bloody cloth enveloping the right hand of the corpse! When placed in her coffin, and the bier brought forth from that hateful chamber, the Canon of Nôtre Dame closed its door for ever, that no one might look upon the mangled hand still fixed within the manacle left hanging to the wall; and it was Christophe the mulatto who, on the apprehension of the old priest, nearly twenty years after the fatal catastrophe, bethought him of the mysteries to be revealed in that deserted room, and found strength to wrench the staple from the stones.

"Look upon it again," said Balthazar, replacing the terrible relique in my hand at the close of his narrative," and tell me, Sir, whether your country contains a more fearful testimonial of the ascendancy of ungovernable passion?"

The gathering tears in our eyes prevented our discerning so clearly as we could wish the delicacy of those blanched and fragile bones; but it was clear that the hand had been divided above the wrist by some sharp instrument; it was clear that two fingers had been previously broken in a desperate struggle for self-extrication. That hand which the hand of love alone had pressed-which had been from infancy uplifted to Heaven in the fervent supplications of innocence-had been crushed and tortured by the vengeance of a father!

Our hearts revolted against the spectacle; and right glad were we to behold the instrument of torture finally consigned to the dark and rusty treasury of-THE RED MAN.

.

SIR MATTHEW MEDDLE.

A SKETCH.

"Save me from my friends! I can protect myself against my enemies." Henri IV. (of France).

"On ne donne rien si libéralement que ses conseils."

La Rochefoucauld.

SIR MATTHEW MEDDLE is the most obliging creature in the world; consequently he has done an infinite deal of mischief in it. He will assist you; he will serve you: he will undertake to do for you that which you in vain assure him nobody can do satisfactorily but yourself. "I am an idle man," he will say: "I have neither business nor occupation of my own; your time is precious; now do leave that matter to my management; so far from a trouble, it will be an amusement to me." But, alas! he does not consider that (as in the fable of the frogs) it will be" death to us." And fortunate may you consider it, if you receive such timely notice of his intention to be (what he calls) serviceable; you may in that case prevent, or at least mitigate, the mischievous effects of his good-nature. But 'tis his "secret service," against which neither prudence nor human foresight can guard, that destroys you: 'tis when he "does good by stealth," that his pernicious kindness operates most powerfully to your injury.

I shall not stop to narrate the particulars of seven marriages of his concocting, the comfortable results of which were two elopements, three separate maintenances, and two divorces; nor of the numerous slight misunderstandings and trifling differences betwixt friends, which his attempts to explain, or to reconcile, have brought to the decision of a jury, the arbitrament of the pistol, or (more unhappily still!) aggravated into lasting hostility and enmity unappeasable; nor shall I-In fa word, I will avoid his example of meddling with affairs which concern others, and shall state only a few of the cases in which I myself have been made the victim of his kind intentions.

How lavish soever of his services he may be to the rest of the world, yet Sir Matthew Meddle holding me, the only son of his favourite sister, in greater affection than any other of his kindred, or, as I sincerely believe, than any other existing creature, it is not to be wondered at that upon my unlucky self he should have perpetrated his most cruel acts of kindness, and inflicted his friendship with the most determined virulence. For as long as I can remember him, he has been destructively [attentive to my interests, and has acted in my behalf with assiduity the most fatal: I may, indeed, date his interference concerning me at a period antecedent to my possession of the faculty of memory, for it commenced even before I had the honour of making my appearance in the world. The effect of this, his first service, has left an irremovable impression-not on my mind only, but on my left cheek!

One day when my mother was in that interesting situation which promised her husband the speedy enjoyment of the honours of paternity, my father and his brother-in-law Sir Matthew were dining with a large party at Long's. Amongst the company was Sir Pepper O'Popper, a gentleman whose temper was extremely irritable, and his sense of hear

ing not very acute. Like persons in general who labour under the latter infirmity, he was prone to consider every remark which he did not distinctly hear as applied to himself; and would guess at its import from the gesture, or from the look of the speaker. The glass had circulated freely when my father, tasting of a fresh bottle, thrust it aside; and, with an expression of mingled anger and disgust on his countenance exclaimed, "Detestable! 'tis as fiery as pepper!"

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What's that you are saying about me, Sir? What's that you are saying?" fiercely cried Sir Pepper; who fancied he heard some uncivil observation coupled with his own name.

My father was about to offer a good-humoured explanation of the cause of Sir Pepper's misapprehension, when up started Sir Matthew.

"Now, Ned, be quiet, pray be quiet-you are so intemperate! let me settle this disagreeable affair. My dear Sir Pepper-indeed, now, my brother-in-law meant no offence-believe me he didn't; if he had-why, in such case, I should have been the first to say, 'throw a bottle at his head,' though he is my brother-in-law."

"I don't hear a word you say, Sir; speak louder, if you please," impatiently cried Sir Pepper.

"In such a case," bawled Sir Matthew," I say I should have been the first to advise you to throw a bottle at his head."

Sir Pepper, who had heard nothing but the conclusion of Sir Matthew's speech, seized a decanter, which he hurled with desperate violence in the direction of my father's head. Had that promoter of conviviality fulfilled the intention of the director of its course, my father's must have terminated on the spot; for (though, fortunately, missing him by a hair's breadth) from the force with which it had been projected, not only was it itself dashed to atoms against the wall, but it put the latter in a plight which rendered the aid of the plasterer and the carpenter eminently necessary.

A scene of confusion ensued: but some mediator more adroit than Sir Matthew taking up the affair, Sir Pepper apologized for his intemperate conduct towards my father, and, offering him his hand, declared that "the misunderstanding was owing entirely to Sir Matthew Meddle's explanation."

"Ned," hurriedly whispered my uncle, "under the circumstances, it would not be well for you to quit the party suddenly, so do you remain where you are; but, considering the delicate situation of your wife, should any exaggerated account of this unpleasant fracas be conveyed to her But leave that to my management. Remain here for an hour or so; I'll go home and excuse your absence to my sister."

Sir Matthew rushed down stairs, jumped into his carriage, and desired the coachman to drive full speed to his sister's. Arrived there, he knocked and rang as if he had found the house in a blaze.

"What is the matter, Sir?" inquired the servant who opened the door.

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Nothing. I hope your mistress has not yet retired for the night ?" "Not yet, I believe, Sir; my mistress is not very well, but as she has not rung for Mrs. Smith yet, I dare say you will find her in the drawing-room."

"That's fortunate!" Sir Matthew ran up stairs, and, rushing into the drawing-room, exclaimed, "Bessy, my love, don't be alarmed."