THE STROLLING MUSICIAN.

I WAS one evening sitting alone in my dining-room, reposing in all the luxury of a stuffed arm-chair and slippers, and enjoying (if enjoyment it may be called) that sensation of drowsy lassitude, the natural consequence of a hearty meal, when our appetite has been previously whetted by fasting and fatigue :-my eyes were fixed upon an old ancestral portrait which hung above the mantelshelf, but their sense' had no more to do with it than a ship with the anchor from which she has parted in a gale. My imagination, in short, boldly independent of all reasonable bounds, flew about from one subject to another, without resting on any-now carrying me to the Black Hole at Calcuttathen taking a short cut over Mont Blanc-and anon transplanting me from the gloomy grandeur of an Alpine solitude to the bustling purlieus of the Stock Exchange.

A great chasm in the centre of the fire might reasonably have urged the necessity of a poker; but it did no such thing; it gave a sentimental turn to my reflections, and my heart yearned of the loss of some friends, and the absence of others.

Memory then led me a long jaunt through the scenes of my infancy-some, alas! were in their graves; and Henry, poor Henry, where was he? perhaps dead; cold in his grave-no matter, I thought a profligate, a gambler. Here I paused for a moment; my heart softened; I thought of the affecting letter which he wrote before he left his home. If,' said he, 'I die, or fall through any misconduct, mourn not for meI'm base beyond the power of redemption.'

My thoughts were becoming confused. I shut my eyes from very languor-opened them again-closed them a second time-peeped once more through my eyelids, and was about to sink into the arms of Nature's soft nurse,' when the chords of a guitar, struck by some itinerant musician, roused me from my stupor. Never was my mind more fitted for the full enjoy

ment of dulcet sounds than at this moment, and the beautiful little air of Pescator dell'onde' stole over my wandering senses with a peculiar charm. The singing was not amiss, and the accompaniment tolerably managed. Give that fellow a shilling,' said I to my servant, who now came in with the tea-things. Give him a shilling, Adam, and ask him to play something else.'

'I'll ask him to play something else, and give him the shilling afterwards,' replied the cautious Adam; nor could I refuse him an approving smile at the time, though the recollection of his well-meant policy is now ever accompanied with a sigh!

The poor musician gave me the due sum of melody and departed.

He visited my door occasionally afterwards, always receiving his shilling; and old Adam, who dearly loved gossip, would sometimes exchange a few words with him. He managed to learn that the poor singer had seen better days, but vainly attempted to discover his name, or any particulars relating to his history.

But he is most likely a discharged valet,' the old fellow would say, and in a tone which at once proved that he was not a little displeased at having his curiosity checked.

And pray, Adam,' said I, 'what sort of a looking man is he?"

'Why, sir, it is in general so dark that his face and figure are not over plain to be seen; but, from his grammar, and that like, 'twould seem as though he were something of a gentleman-that is to say, so far as I judge of him when he speaks English. As to the foreign lingo in some of his songs, I know naught about it. Sure enough, it must be cold work for the poor fellow this weather; for, as I take it, he can't find much warmth in thrumming o' those catguts.'

'Next time he comes,' said I, 'tell him to walk into the hall; and, together with his shilling, Adam, give him a glass of your home-brewed.'

'Aye,' replied Adam, 'that be o' the right sort, sir;

if there be any thing particularly calculated to make me sing, it be a draught o' that same home-brewed.'

On the musician's next appearing, he was accordingly told to walk into the hall; 'But,' said Adam, in relating the matter afterwards to his master, 'he would do no such thing; and, egad, what's far worse than all, he took it into his head to refuse my homebrewed, which,' continued he, in an affected tone of indignation, 'will do more good to his soul than his music will to mine.'

'Twas strange! I went to the door myself, intending to speak to the man, but he was gone.

According to Adam's account, he did not seem offended at being asked into the house; but, on the contrary, much affected by the intended kindness of the offer; and it was in a tone of considerable agitation, but totally free from pride, that he stated his not being accustomed to enter people's houses in that capacity. 'In that capacity!" I was perplexed.

Although his visits to my door were from that time discontinued, I could indistinctly hear him, for several succeeding nights, singing in the distance. This gave additional impetus to my curiosity. I thought once or twice of conferring with him in the street-of following him home to his lodging-in short, of fathoming his mystery; but, like people in general, I hesitated to perform till opportunity had passed, and a fortnight elapsed without my hearing any thing more of him. I could never contemplate his singular conduct without thinking there was something in it which merited attention; and, regretting that I had been so backward when the means of obtaining information were probably in my power, I determined, should they again offer, to secure the advantage.

:

At length I received a note, directed-To the Master of On opening it I read as follows :'Sir-The poor musician whom you have lately so liberally patronized, has little reason for supposing that the pride which withheld him from entering your house a fortnight back, will recommend him to your notice

now; perhaps, however, his misfortunes may. He has had to thank many of your neighbours for a shilling; but you are the only one that can reprove him for being above his situation, as you alone have given him an opportunity of showing that he is so. His singing is now over; and he can have nothing more to do with music, except it be in the form of a funeral dirge.

'He is on his death bed! sinking under the effects of a cold which attacked him during one of his noctur. nal rambles.'

*

Without waiting to peruse any more of this letter, I desired the little girl who brought it to conduct me instantly to the musician's abode.

On reaching the poor fellow's bedside, I found him feebly answering the apothecary's inquiries. This done, he raised himself upon his pillow, and, turning towards me, apologized for the strangeness of his conduct, and begged that I would sit down beside him.

We had scarcely exchanged a dozen words before I had occasion to mention my name. The poor fellow looked surprised. 'Charlemont!' he exclaimed, with a deep-fetched sigh, and again repeated my name, as if it were associated with some of the past events of his life.

I regarded him with earnestness, and the gaze of my helpless companion was equally searching.

'Good God!' he exclaimed, can it be William Charlemont?'

I became agitated, hardly knowing why; and, moved by vague suspicion, alluded to the place of my early education.

"Tis he!' he exclaimed, with a convulsive utterance; and, falling back upon his pillow, he faintly added, William Charlemont, we are brothers !'

For Heavens,' said I, explain yourself. My suspicions are right! Do I not behold in you my longlost brother?'

'You see, indeed, his person,' replied he, taking my

hand, though I wonder you should recognize any likeness between what I now am, and what I then was.'

The mutual happiness elicited by this sudden and extraordinary recognition was but of short duration. After pausing some minutes to regain his composure, he continued, Thank God, you will own me, William! As you have acted thus far in my behalf, you will, I am sure, remain my brother to the end. I shall not trouble you long-death has advanced upon the last hold of my existence, and his conquest will be easy and immediate. Often have I arraigned the hard fate which parted us; I have now to bless the good fortune which has brought about this interview, and at last conducted me to your bosom, on which my lacerated heart may repose a few moments, ere it ceases to throb, and leaves me at rest for ever!'

'Nay, do not talk in this manner,' I replied; 'you shall be removed immediately to my residence.'

The medical attendant shook his head, in token of the impossibility of such a step.

'No, my dear William,' said Henry, smiling, do not think of that, I shall soon be removed to my own house-the only one I shall have ever had-the only one I have now any hope or wish to inhabit,'

In the course of the day he grew considerably worse; and, though my curiosity to know something of his history was maddening, the apothecary forbade any interruption to his quiet. I, therefore, sat by his bedside in silence, bathed in tears, watching him with the most painful anxiety, and comparing the disfigured form of the poor slumberer beside me with that of my brother twenty years before.

Henry at length opened his eyes, somewhat refreshed by sleep, and desired to be raised upon his pillow.

'If you knew,' said he, the calm which now pervades my sinking soul, the hope that animates me, and the confidence on which that hope is grounded, you could neither pity my present state, nor lament