6.

as in a glass, at the theatre. How many of us laugh at our individual" showup"-not taking the hint of the moralist, to go and sin no more;" but enjoying our taste with the town, remarking, that "Let him whom the cap fits, wear it." If others weep with Melpomene, we weep also; if they laugh under the mask of Comus, we laugh also. If they shake their sides in farce, we are "pleased with a feather, tickled with a straw." We hum operas all night, or dance fandangos at a masquerade, and consider them all a hum. The "taste of the town' follows a fiddler, or a conjuror. Ancient and modern music are governed by the tact of musical taste, which corresponds with pride, passion, or profit. Street music, like corn in a mill, is ground round the town, and discord has been too long an admitted taste. A man of taste is a nondescript; a woman of taste an indescribable: because he is made up of town qualities, and she, lovely creature, is a passion flower. When a divine, a physician, a lawyer, an actor, an actress, a dancer, a musician, or a poodle, is identified by the taste of the town; when a sculptor, a playwright, a painter, a poet, a senator, or a writer, wins the taste of the town; -the chisel, the manuscript, the pencil, the stanza, the speech and the composition are alchemised, and the inheritors well off in this world's approval. But most of all, the "taste of the town" is exemplified in dress. Both sexes carry this to an extraordinary pitch. A person may as well call for an extinguisher to be hid from society, as to be tasteless in his sphere. For in matter, manner, word, or deed, he would be voted a bore-without the adjuncts of fancy. folly, and usage. If variety were not the watch-word of the taste of the town," the pivot would stand still, and misery prevail over sublunary pleasures. Such is the opinion of the

THE SECRET.

OLIO.

1 RECOLLECT a pretty incident which may not be uninteresting to the reader. A wild young fellow married a lovely girl, and having been long addicted to habits of dissipation, even the sincere attachment which he entertained towards his wife could not entirely disentangle him from its snares. His occasional irregular hours would have given any but one of so pure and sweet a disposition every reason to suspect that she did not hold that place in his

affection which was her right; but this reflection scarcely ever intruded upon her spirits. The husband was far from being cruel, and really loved her, but his disposition was weak, and his companions eloquent; and he seemed rather to grow worse than better in his habits. It happened once that he was called out of town, and in his haste left behind him a letter, in which, to please an unprincipled friend, he had spoken of his wife in terms of carelessness, if not of derision, and dilated freely upon his general course of life. Imagine the anxiety and suspense of the startled profligate when he found himself borne by a rapid steam-boat upon a journey which must necessarily be of several days duration, yet remembered distinctly that the fatal letter was left exposed and unsealed upon his wife's table. He recollected also with a pang, that he had wantonly, in answer to her inquiries, boasted that it contained a profound secret, which he would not have revealed for the world. He paced the deck in an agony of disappointment and shame. He pictured her opening the letter, turning pale with horror and indignation-perhaps fainting with anguish-alarming the servants-flying to her father-renouncing him for ever. As soon as possible he returned, but with a sinking heart, to his dwelling, bracing himself up to meet the fury of an enraged and wretched woman. He opened the door softly. She was bending over her table busily writing. A placid smile sealed her mouth with a perfect beauty, and spread over her glowing features the mild expression of peace and joy; and even as she wrote, the fragment of a sweet ballad fell from her lips in a low music that flows only from a heart entirely at rest. The husband stole noiselessly around, and read as her pen traced her gentle thoughts.

"Your letter is lying by me. The very, very letter, containing the 'profound secret.' Now could I punish you for your carelessness; but, my dearest Charles, how could I look you in the face on your return after having basely violated your trust in my integrity, and meanly sought to gratify a silly curiosity at the expense of honesty, delicacy, and confidence. No. The letter is unopened, and lest you should feel uneasy, I enclose it to you, with the sincere love of your affectionate wife," &c.

"What an angel!" muttered the conscience-stricken husband.

"She started up with a cry of pleasure-and as Charles met the light of

never had I seen in any other a strong and beaming brightness, which sent through her "long dark lashes, low depending," an expression almost more than earthly. Her pale, but perfect features, were rendered almost statuelike by the contrast of the dark and glossy ringlets which fell luxuriantly from her beautifully-formed head, while her sylph-like, gliding, but graceful figure of symmetry, realized the idea of a creature belonging to a brighter world than ours. My companion perceived my admiration; nor did she seem astonished or displeased, when, instead of replying to some question about Cambridge, I interrupted her by an observation upon the singular and beautiful being before me. "Ah! poor Constantia!" she sighed. The manner in which these few words were spoken, almost made me love her. I had no opportunity of further inquiry, for the quadrille was ended, and another aspirant for the hand of the fair Cecilia hurried her away to waltz, and left me to ruminate alone upon this "child of mystery," for such I felt quite convinced she was. Peace was out of the question, until I elicited the facts from my friend himself. He informed me that she was the only child of a wealthy, but penurious Baronet. She had never known the tender cares of a mother's fostering love, and thus the flowers of her mind were left to wander in wasteful luxuriance, when, had they been better trained, they would have formed a garden of the fairest and the brightest growth. It was impossible that such a being should live and not be loved; far more so, that her own bosom should be dead to the impulse and power of strong affection. She was loved, and oh! how fondly and how fatally was that love reciprocated! But the bud of her hopes was never destined to blossom! When her stern and unpitying parent drove the chosen of her heart, proud and pennyless, from his doors, he little thought, and perhaps, he little heeded, how hard and decisive a blow was struck upon his affections. And he, too, the discarded and hopeless, seeking a painful and early death upon the battle plain, little deemed, as the name of Constantia lingered on his dying accents, that she, the adoring being for whom his heart beat high with hope, would, in losing him, lose also the consciousness of her own existence! The news of his death was announced to her without caution. She spoke not-she wept

not-she fell suddenly and violently to the earth, and was raised from it-a maniac!

Time, however, that " only healer when the heart has bled," at length restored the lovely Constantia to the world; but the fair promise of her.. youth had been sapped, and her health had sunk under the bitter visitation. At first, her recovery was but partial, for the frequent and wild fits under which she laboured, rendered it constantly necessary to watch her every movement, and often to place a restraint upon her actions which threatened to immolate the frail form which her malady had spared. By degrees, however, these fits became more rare, and the poor sufferer was once again permitted to resume her station in society. Her physicians hoped, that by joining in the gaieties and pleasures of the world, the most effectual and speedy remedy for her disease would be attained, and so, in truth, it proved; for Constantia, although she seldom siniled, sometimes joined in the dance, and sat at the festive board, beloved by all, and feared by none. "It is upwards of a year,' continued my friend, "since she has been visited by any of the consequences of her fatal malady, and we believe that she is now totally restored. Cecilia and she are inseparable companions; they were reared, as it were, in the. same cradle, and, cousins, have been constantly together; and, indeed, when others have been unable, during the continuance of the fits, to soothe the mind of the interesting sufferer, my sister has seldom failed to succeed. But," he continued, "I must seek my partner,"

There was something in this narrative too deeply touching to permit me to join immediately the throng; a string of my heart had been struck, which would only vibrate to the sound of sorrow. I retired, therefore, to a niche at the extremity of the hall, where, unseen, I could meditate on what I had heard, and watch the graceful, but melancholy movements of the young aud ill-fated Constantia. It was not very strange that I should have taken so lively an interest in this poor sufferer, and the tales of her woes, for I had lately mourned the death of a beloved relation, who had sunk to an early tomb, though with a mind unshaken, yet with a heart crushed and broken as Constantia's. The guests began to disperse, and the efforts of the musicians to be more irregular and drowsy; and feeling

heavy and fatigued with my ride, I stole silently to my chamber.

How long I slept, I know not, but I was awoke by the wildest strain of vocal music I had ever heard; and, as the moon was streaming through the gothic panes with her broad pale light, I leaped from my bed, to ascertain from what fair serenader the sounds proceeded. But the song had ceased, and all was still as the grave. I opened gently the casement of the window, and leaning forward, gazed out upon the beauty of the night. I perceived, on looking around, that the room I occupied formed one of several that led to a broad stone terrace, which overhung what I presumed to be the large court-yard of the castle, and a faint light, rendered hardly discernible by the effulgence of the moon's rays, assured me that I was not the only tenant of the range.

"Constantia !" exclaimed a voice, apparently of one suddenly roused from slumber, and which I immediately recognized as that of my friend's sister— "Constantia! how is it that you are up!" No answer was returned; indeed, her companion seemed unconscious that she was addressed. "Constantia!" continued her cousin, in the quick tones of alarm," how often have you been warned never to expose yourself to the night air?" In a moment Cecilia herself had risen, and her hand was laid gently on the shoulder of the poor maniac. "Constantia-my dear, dear Constantia !" she said, in a subdued and soothing voice, "I thought you were still by my side, sleeping as sweetly and as calmly as when I came to bed. Why, dearest, have you risen? You forget that you are an invalid, and that the night air is cold." "Ah!" exclaimed Constantia, suddenly leaping up and seizing her cousin with frantic energy-"Ah! I have you at last-you have escaped me too long already!-you murdered my poor Frederick, and now" Here she fastened on the terrified Cecilia by the throat, and throwing her vehemently on the ground, nailed her down with the force and energy of a savage. The sound of the death-gurgle was in my ear-but for the moment I was as one petrified and spell-bound. I had neither power to speak, nor to move, till by a violent effort roused myself from the effects of the sudden blow which had fallen, as it were, with benumbing force upon my senses, and rushed madly to her assistance. But alas! it was all too late for the quiver of life had passed away from the limbs of the hapless Cecilia! and Constantia, the lunatic Constantia, stood unabashed, alone, unconscious of the world on which she trod! For myself, I lost all recollection; but how long I remained insensible, I know not. I was aroused by some one who grasped me tightly by the shoulder, exclaiming, "Well, my gallant knight, how long is my fair cousin to wait for your hand in the dance? I started up aghast-my friend and the lovely Constantia stood before me! Why you rogue," continued he," you've been sleeping, and have lost my cousin's beautiful song." no,"quickly replied, endeavouring to collect myself, the reality of that portion of my dream flashing across me, "do not think I was so lost to good. taste; she sang two- heard them both;" and, bowing low to my sweet partner, I added, "but the last was ex

I heard the voice again, but it seemed, if possible, in a sweeter strain. The curtains of the neighbouring window slowly drawn aside, and the casement quietly opened by a female hand. I fancied I could reeognize the slim form and dark hair of Constantia L'Estrange. Impelled by I know not what motive, for I did not wait to analyse it, I hastily wrapped myself in my dressing gown, and in a moment stealing silently in the direction of the open window. Fair reader, do not blame or condemn me, for an indescribable presentiment of impending mischief had seized me, which I could neither shake off, nor exactly account for. Creeping slowly under the shade of the parapet wall of the terrace, I approached as nearly as I could the object of my solicitude, and, unobserved, stationed myself in such a situation as to command a view of her movements, without the slightest chance of being detected in my purpose. With breathless anxiety awaited the result of my fears, but the moon alone appeared to be the object of her search and contemplation, and she looked upon it with such a fixed, wild, and unnatural gaze, as plainly told me, that those who believed her mind restored and at rest, had sadly overrated the effects of her care, or strangely underrated the extent of her malady. The fire-the vivid and horrible fire of the maniac was in her eye!the expression of every feature was altered-the lovely being had contemplated as possessing the beauty of an angel, was suddenly transformed I dare not say how awfully! The wild and irregular snatches of song came not from the lips of reason.

566 No,

quisitely beautiful." She smiled. Her cousin was less particular-he laughed aloud. "That's good," said he, "it was an encore.!" Monthly Mag.

INDIAN JUSTICE.

IN the first week of January I set out from Lake Macobemish, near Moose River, Canada, to visit the outposts. I was accompanied by an Indian named Neegonaubee and two half castes. About an hour after sunrise, on the second morning, we arrived at the little river which forms the outlet of the Lake, at the opposite extremity of which the trading post was situated. We could now see the house; it was not more than three miles distant. I had been instantaneously struck with alarm at not observing any smoke from the cabin, but had abstained from making any remark. To testify surprise or anxiety at the moment would have been unbecoming in a great chief; but now I conceived the etiquette of the forest allowed me to take counsel. Neegonaubee, who, by virtue of his rank, walked next to me in the file, addressed me in a low calm voice, and said, "What has my brother seen?" "What my eyes have looked for they have not seen.' ""My brother's eyes are not shut." Without farther conversation we advanced, and every succeeding step tended to confirm us in the conjecture that the post had been abandoned, or that some evil had befallen its tenants. There was still no trace of smoke, the slightest curl or feather of which must have been visible in the clear yet sullen sky. We reached' the door and lifted the latch, its only fastening upon ordinary occasions, but now it was secured from within. We called aloud. There was no answer, save the dread echo of our own voices. We went round to the back of the house; there, for the first time, we perceived a track It was a beaten track-a human track-and evidently led to some clumps of willows and dwarf woods; but it was covered with a sinuous veil of the last night's snow. Neegonaubee stooped down and deftly brushed away with his mitten the covering from one of the plainest prints of the mocassin. He uttered a low deep "Hugh!"-the ordinary exclamation of the Indian; but here it was not simply of savage satisfaction, or of mere excitement, or emotion, or horror. It partook of each; and there was an expression of bitter anguish mixed in it

withal. He spoke not, however, but forthwith turned to the house, and burst in a wooden shutter which secured an opening answering alike the purposes of door and window. He sprung into the house-we followed. By the struggling light which broke upon us from the opening behind, we saw two men lying on the floor on their backs, and covered with a blanket. We removed it-stirred them:-they were dead and frozen! The flesh from the breast and limbs had been partly cut away. We broke open the door with a few desperate blows from the butts of our guns, and the whole diabolic scene lay exposed to view. There were ashes on the hearth-we found them fresh and warm; a kettle lay close beside, and from it there protruded a human hand, mangled and torn with the teeth. In a corner lay bones of different descriptions, flung together the smallest bones of the human body, I would say, such as of the feet and hands, and the like. We turned the men over; one displayed a tomahawk-wound on the back of the head; the other had received a deep wound on the left temple, and a second wound on the face beneath the left eye. The whole mystery was now explained - the men had been murdered! but wherefore and by whom? Not by an enemy simply for vengeance; the position in which we found them, the successive removals of masses of flesh, the appearance of the interior, and every thing that presented itself to the eye about the hut, proved this :— not by overpowering numbers whose force rendered resistance useless and paralysed exertion, for the track was that of a single person, who, moreover, could not be far away. This was manifest from the very existence of the track, the freshness of the ashes, and the warmth of the hearth.

With a common consent, which, in the intensity of our horror and rage, was felt by all, and acted upon withont word or sign, we set forth in search of the murderer, I was led forward by the desire to avenge; my followers were goaded onwards by a still higher motive. We returned to the track we had discovered behind the house. Here we had to wait some moments for Neegonaubee. At length he came; and, on arriving at the track, let his gun fall heavily, and leaned upon it, wrapt in some emotion which I could not penetrate. The features betrayed little of the workings of the spirit within whatever they might have been; but the