and disasterous affair reached the government, they offered a large reward for the apprehension of the younger Vivian. The detachment of military along the coast had orders to make a rigid search for him- the number of the cruisers were doubled the magistrates were called upon, by royal proclama tion, to institute an inquiry, and to assist the military in apprehending all persons suspected of being implicated, in order that an example might he made of the lawless men who had been guilty of so sanguinary an outrage. Walter Vivian, however, was placed far beyond the reach of justice. It would have been a dangerous instance of loyalty for any authority in the west of Cornwall to be officiously diligent in hunting forth the outlaw. Even the appearance of being anxious for his apprehension would have been dangerous. The smuggler was universally considered the injured party. Thousands of families depended for their bread upon the traffic prejudices were strong against the new laws the passions of the lower orders were in a ferment-murmers akin to revenge were heard on all sides, and a loyal attachment to the law was very generally considered to be more honoured in the breach than the observance, In a cave, a few miles from the Land's End, which opened on a wild and unfrequented sea-beach, Walter Vivian found a hiding-place, till a vessel could be procured to carry him out of the country. But here began his sorrows. Here, love, although it mitigated the privations of the outlaw's cave -although it made softer than down his bed of straw on the damp earthonly darkened the more the vista of his hopes, and rendered doubly painful by anticipation the separation which was unavoidable. Some few months before the catastrophe which had made him an outcast from his country-which had branded his name as that of a felon the unfortunate hero of our tale had been married. His wife was a lovely. creature, not yet arrived at her twentieth summer-tender, gentle, confiding, and devotedly attached to her husband. Those who know her storywho have heard of her fame-who, by the winter fire-sides of Cornwall, fill many an aged and young eye with a tear while they tell her fate-can alone do justice to her innocence and beauty. Ask the octogenarian of the West who Tracy Pendril was? He will shake his head and say with a sigh, "There is no such maiden now-a days!" She was the very idol of the district. Better whisper suspicion of the purity of your best friend, or worst enemy's genealogy, than speak dispraisingly of her! The old men blessed, the sailors toasted her in a full can on shore, and sung her charms before the mast at sea. Her naine was to be seen cut out on many a capstern and handspike, and inscribed on the windows of Dutch taverns and French cabarets. The venerable crones of her native village still mention her as a pattern of beauty and conjugal affection. "She was pure as truth," they say, "and beautiful as an angel-the victim of errors not her own, of inachinations foul, cruel, and perfidous, of a love that hurried her to the grave!" It was requisite that Vivian should leave the country. His means were ample, his share in his brothers' business had been profitable; the sum due to him was considerable, and sufficient to render him comparatively independent in any country where he might desire to reside It was agreed that he should go to America, by himself, and that she, who would have made its wildest woods, its most inhospitable savannahs, a perfect elysium, should follow at the earliest opportunity. The king's reward, however, was on his head, and he could not personally superintend the arrangements necessary for his escape. His wife passed with him, in his cave, the few days that remained for his sojourn in England. and consequently was ignorant of the scheme that was matured, or the fate that awaited him. To his elder brothers, as persons most interested in his happiness, was confided his secret, and the measures to be adopted to facilitate his embarkation. But the elder Vivians were not men formed in the same mould, as to the generosity and nobleness of character, with Walter. Avarice had frozen their hearts, and congealed their blood. The adventurous habits of their youth, now that they had escaped its perils, had not softened their dispositions. Having acquired riches, they now sought security; and conceiving they saw the way to obtain it, they grasped at it, like fiends, at the expense of their younger brother's liberty and happiness. They saw in the death-or what was the same to them-the perpetual expatriation of Walter, a release from the dreaded consequences of his late outrage, in which they were, to a certain extent, implicated as his partners, as well as a favourable opportunity to possess themselves of his property. As an outlaw, in a legal sense, he could not recover this property; but, if beyond seas, they calculated that even the moral obligation would be hushed in the roar of the billows of the Atlantic. They laid their plans accordingly. It will be recollected, that in those days the colonies now called the United States of America were dependencies of the British crown. Maryland and Virginia were slave settlements; and it was customary to transport convicts thither, who, till the expiration of the term of their sentence. or till liberated by the government, were subjected to the hard labour and discipline of the then slave code. It often happened, too, that persons, such as incorrigible debtors, or those guilty of minor offences, who deemed it prudent to banish themselves, were gladly engaged by the planters, upon indentures for a specified number of years, and for a certain description of labour, during which servitude they were entirely under the control of their masters. They were, in fact, little better than slaves. They were treated with extreme rigour, frequently became the victims of the climate, and rarely survived the term of their bondage. When they did so, they were at liberty to go where they might choose, purchase land, or follow any occupation which their former habits or inclinations might direct. To a Virginia house in London, the elder Vivians made overtures for the deportation of the hapless victim of their cupidity; and as might be expected, the offer was gladly accepted. A vessel lay in the Thaines ready to sail for that quarter of the world, and it was stipulated that he should hover off a certain head-land on the coast of Cornwall, and take the outlaw on board. Meanwhile, the nature of the contract, the character of the ship, the degrading terms of exile and slavery, were carefully concealed from Walter. It was stated to him that his passage was secured, and that he might make any part of the colonies he should deem proper his abode. He was furnished with fictitious bills, on the vampire house that had bought his blood, and he was consoled in his agony at parting from his wife, by being assured that their separation would be but short, and would depend entirely upon his own settlement in the colonies. He never dreamt that his brothers could be his betrayers, or that that lovely girl who hung round his neck, and fainted in his arms at the sight of the waves. that were to bear him from her, was to be left in unprotected penury, in cheerless widowhood, in unrelieved and hopeless misery, by the villany and treachery of those who owed their existence to the same parents. But so it was. The ship arrived: the parting was a scene of unutterable anguish-and which we shall not profane by attempting to describe; but it was unavoidable; a boat conveyed him on board, and a fresh breeze soon bore him out of sight of land. To be continued in our next. 4 FIRST START IN THE WORLD. THE following sketch of the method adopted for starting a Scottish youth in life, is taken from an entertaining work entitled "Nights of the Round Table; or, Stories of Aunt Jane & her Friends." "IN one of the most sterile, moorland parishes, a region of heather and moss, in the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, lived an honest, poor couple, who, among several children, had at son named William, a lively, intelligent, and active boy, whom his mother loved, and the neighbours liked. When William had been at school for about five years, though occasionally away at herding, at peats, or harvest work, his parents, having other children to edu cate, began to grudge the expenses of William's learning, for what with one branch and another, he cost them nearly two shillings a quarter. It was fortunate that the schoolmaster's 'conscience compelled him, about this time, to declare, that he could do no more for William. He was Dux of the school, read Horace well, and Homer tolerably, and his penmanship was a marvel in the Upper Ward, which, however, was not saying much. would be a shame and a sin, to consign such bright parts and high clas sical attainments to the plough-tail. William's parents were very willing to believe this; and as an opportunity offered to place him as an apprentice with a small surgeon-apothecary, a friend of the schoolmaster's, in the city of Glasgow, his whole kindred made a push to raise the supplies necessary to make Willie a doctor. One aunt gave a pair of home-knit hose perhaps ; and a grand-dame a coarse linen shirt or two, with a better one for Sundays; for every grand-dame and matron had, in those simple days, her household stores of linen. The old shoes clouted for common wear, a new pair in the chest, fonr days of the parish tailor, It " who, with his apprentice, worked in 1 all the cottages and farm-houses at sixI pence a day, completed the equipment of our hero: the tailor displaying some ! extra flourishes on the rude staple of William's blue coat, as his handy work might haply be seen in so magnificent a place as the Candleriggs of Glasgow. His entire equipment cost the family 11. 8s.; but it is not every day a son is launched into life, and they were determined to do it respectably. And now the rainy November morning was come when William, mounted behind his father, set out for the capital of the West, boys and girls shouting good wishes after him from the school-house green, and maids and matrons bestowing solemn blessings on blithe Willie' as he rode past. "Behold him now established with the identical widow, who, twelve years before, had entertained the schoolmaster, when he attended the University, at a pension of four shillings per week, but Willie, as a boy, was received at a more reasonable rate. His board was two shillings and sixpence, of which his master was to pay one-half. His mother's share was to be paid in rural produce, for though neither butter -nor meat were very plentiful in the Upper Ward, money was still more scarce. William's heart had never sunk, till next morning that his father, having first shared his porridge and buttermilk, returned thanks after their meal, in what appeared an earnest prayer for the preservation of his boy amid the shares and temptations of life, and for a blessing upon him." GHOST STORIES; OR, SHADES OF THE DEPARTED. FOR THE OLIO. NO. 1. THe HobgoBLIN. A ghost!-a ghost!-My story, for a ghost! PARODY THE parsonage house near the <churchyard wall was well clad with ivy, and its suburbs much shaded by deep plumed cypress trees, beneath whose tumbrage gravelled walks, half covered with green damp, led in a serpentine winding to the large kitchen garden separated by the low narrow door in the front, to which a short flight of displaced steps reached, and which of yore, when splendour reigned within, had been kept in better condition, than when fold Joseph and his dame Dorothy" became the latest tenants. It was well accredited that the Parsonage", was haunted by a 'Hobgoblin " The oldest villager, attested it. The clergyman's family deserted the spot, slowly decaying into a desolate ruin, and lived, not at their ease, it was said, at another living, in a pretty, sprightly, market t vn, miles distant. Joseph and Dorothy, his wife, a trusty couple who had passed their years of threescore and upwards, were firm believers in the presence of the Hobgoblin in the large room, which was rarely, or never, permitted to see the sunshine, or be dried by the soft air which fluttered amid the branches of the yielding trees that grew unconscious of the patronage which they needed to give them a more luxuriant beauty. Grand, though they were; and the music which they made in the seasons of winter, yet, the couple excepted, few, very few, footsteps trod hither, but on occasions of urgent necessity. Now it was said the "Hobgoblin" had a motive (as all goblins have most assuredly) for keeping the owners of the Parsonage away from it, namely that he should stalk and strut his hours alone, in mute, selfish pride, or some mysterious reason not palpable. Joseph and Dorothy, were of too credulous a class, therefore, to interrupt him. Health, industry, and a clear conscience gave them sound and sweet sleep, especially as "Hob" was kind enough to walk on tiptoe and pursue his course in airy lightness. But the neighbours that resided at the upper end of the village were not so reconciled; and, one dark December night, when the wind was aloft in the tree tops and the chimney portals whistled moaningly, Tom Trim, the fearless wagoner, was persuaded, by the permission of Joseph, and Dorothy, to satisfy the yearnings of his neighbours, but more particularly his sweetheart Betty Bye, the basket-maker's only daughter, as to the real character of master Hob," as the goblin was irreverently called by some of the half fearful believers in his existence. Trim had taken no inconsiderable quantity of the best ale at the little quiet inn, hard by; for, said he, "though a stranger to fear, yet I like to keep the coats of the stomach warm, and line the inside as well as the outside, with that which is good." Trim, in case he should bave occasion to retreat precipitately from the casement window of the large room, very cautiously placed a ladder on terra firma. He was dressed in a foul-weather jerkin, with a good portion of neckcloth and spatterdashers. He took with him a hatchet in one hand, and a stable lantern's 1 strapped before him; stamped his way, with a barley fork in his right hand, up the great wide creaking stairs. Having opened the door, he marched his way valiantly into the room. The light glanced out under the trees where Simeon, Dorothy, and their neighbours were watching the result. But as yet the Hobgoblin delayed his appearance, though the witching hour of his usual coming had considerably past. Nothing daunted, Trim supposing his lantern might be the cause of the bashful gep ́ ́tleman not wishing to be hunted down so easily, extinguished the light. This ruse very soon succeeded, and in a short time, the Hobgoblin passed through the room as ghostly as need be. A shuddering scream of terror was heard beneath the trees, issuing from the lips, especially of "Betty Bye," who resolved to abide the worst, since the "goblin" had persecuted her in her dreams, made her quite miserable, and revenge in his annihilation seemed the only satisfaction he could give her. But reflection had no space to dilate on the inevitable consequences likely to intercept temporary feelings, for in the passage of another interval the "Hobgoblin" skipped from under the trees and ascended the ladder with lightninglike rapidity, discovering "Trim" just on the eve of looking out, but who fell back instantaneously, as if under the operation of an electric shock, into the room, at the goblin's facile entrance. Simeon, thinking, however to give Trim fair play, and cut off the Goblin's descent, moved the ladder aside, declaring, by the wrestling he could hear upstairs that a desperate struggle was going on. Betty Bye, who could no longer hold her patience, induced by many others of her witnessing friends, taking the lead, entered the hind door of the Parsonage. She soon reached the scene of action, but her beloved "Thomas Trim," whom she expected ina woful plight, was fighting only with his own shadow, though he declared that he had given master "Gob" such Pa piercer, shewing them the impression in the wainscot as would deter him ifrom a revisit. This was, however, like "the flourish of Falstaff in gasconade and Perroneous. “Ah! my dear Tommy!" said Betty in the language of exasperation-"the wretch was dressed in a sky-blue frock with a criminal's hat on his head his figure was very lathlike, "bat with bandy legs, amazing long feet like paddles." "You are * right, ¢ Betty!" said her palpitating auditory. "Yes" she continued "I should know him out of all the world, for, he had slippers on: his goggling eyes were as large as red hot cannon balls." "God save us!" added Dorothy-" so they were. Betty!" "And such a pug nose!" said Betty-" A mouth from ear to ear, -a picked chin," said Tom-" And he'd hollow cheeks, with a countenance as pale as a corpse by candlelight!" sighed Betty. Ay, ay, his fingers were as long as this barley fork!" said Tom, "and-oh! here, here he comes -stand clear and fear not- he's only scotched-but we'll kill him this time." Ah? God save us!" sighed Dorothy ont of the well spring of her heart-It is of a surety-but Tommy, my good lad! don't do murder-the sixth commandment, Joseph, and 1, have always strictly observed." But the Hobgoblin entered the dark room, and passing all of them present, eyed Betty Bye, as she after vowed most solemnly-in a savage manner. The direful tormentor, vanished once more into thin air; and just as Trim swore he had done his work for him this time," Hobgob resuming his delectable sport, danced before the half terrified group in the room with the most self-assuranced nonchalance. D-n it," said Trim, "master Gobby! this is too bad!" And, as he went up to destroy it with one fell swoop, Hobgob retreated again to the lattice. Trim close at his heels, as he imagined, lunged the grim shadow, and not being aware the ladder had been removed, fell out of the window on the grass plat below, more frightened than hurt, fortunately-crying, "Good bye, Betty! good bye!" while the Hobgoblin stood motionless before him. His friends, who had left the inside of the house to assist him, were half afraid to approach, till at length Betty Bye, with a warming pan of fiery coals, came in right good earnest. With the shaking of the "hot ones" Hobgoblin retired. He was never seen again at the parsonage, to the infinite joy of the villagers. Tom and Betty were, shortly after this conquest over an obtrusive enemy, united as their friends allowed they ought to be; but not till it was ascertained that a collegian, who occasionally spent his vacations in the neighbourhood, was the mysterious agent that played off his pranks to the horror of the ignorant. He usually concealed himself in the church porch; and it was himself that, by the use of the magic lantern, created the Hobgoblin and gave it identity. Fearing, however, by the danger to which Tom Trim had been exposed, that something serious might happen, he relinquished his vagaries. 66 Ali, sir," said Tom, "what mischiefmaking people these learned men be!" "Indeed they are," said the collegian. "Hold the lantern for yourself, and see the slide against yonder wall; behold the effect!" "God bless us!" reiterated Trim with his friends at his side "well, it is very wonderful-now I know how it is!"-pointing to the Hobgoblin passing over the opposite wall. Though Joseph, Dorothy, and their neighbours, were now convinced that Hobgoblins were only optical illusions, produced by the magic lantern, yet they listened with deep concern at the recital of any narrative that detailed particulars relative to a "Ghost Story." PORTRAIT PAINTER'S PRATTLE. Sit, Ma'am-(If I can make it like, No feature must be shaken :- Don't put those curls behind your ears, I wish you'd give yourself more hairs, Says Love is lock'd within.' I must come nearer, dear Miss S,, I find while I am drawing you, Dismiss that softness from your eyes, I find is very hard. Ah, lady! how I envy thee I'd give my hopes to be R. A. Might your white hand be mine. I do not wonder at your blush, . Here is a hit-by-bit-and Taste, With much or little gets a feast. THE "taste of the town" is regulated by various causes. Sometimes it arises from trivial, and sometimes from rather important, events. It is, however, general, though derivable from particular sources. Taste sometimes leads the fashion, and sometimes governs opinion. Taste is usually of a popular character, and like the waves in a pond when rippled by motion, spreads to its extremity and settles, or returns, to receive new impressions. Town taste" is more variable than "country taste;" inore readily supplied with materials; more easily gratified by their enjoyment; yet more capricious, because where there is a surfeit of supply, taste is less inclined to value it, than as it is offered in the country, more scantily. We refer, of course, to mental taste in both. Not, at the same time, meaning the intrinsic worth of knowledge, but the source whence simple pleasure is derived. 66 Evil, be thou my good," is the language of Milton; and this idea corresponds, in some degree, with the "taste of the town;" for much alloy is to be found with the choicest of the metallic influence abroad in the common course of our nature. In the congregations of devotion, how many persons are gathered together, simply on account of possessing a peculiar taste for a particular advocate of a certain calibre. He looks, speaks, and is, tout au fait. He is the representative of their notions and thrives by their auspices. They agree with him in dogma, accord with him in faith, and unite with him in practice. He comes up to their taste. The physician, or surgeon, whether he be a Brodie, or a St. John, is no less the exclusive object of town taste, and receives sanction, while he secures a profitable fee-ling in his arduous and beneficial profession. The lawyer, from the judge to the pettifogger, is a chosen vessel of some persons especial favour, if distinguished by the taste of others known to them. But a more general criterion of taste is evinced where we ourselves are beheld veluti speculum, |