ing my steps, I then, through my veil, distinctly saw your face and figure"

"My figure!" said Frederic in amazement.

"Yes, my friend, your figure," returned his wife, "it was to me you gave alms on that night! It was my life-my honour, perhaps that you then saved!"

"You a mendicant-you so young, so beautiful, and now so rich!" cried Frederic.

“Yes, my dearest husband," replied the lady, "I have in my life received alms-once only-and from you; and those alms have decided my fate for life. On the day following that miserable night, an old woman in whom I had inspired some sentiments of pity, enabled me to enter as a sempstress into a respectable house. Cheerfulness returned to me with labour. I had the good fortune to become a favourite with the mistress whom I served, and, indeed, I did my best, by unwearied diligence and care, to merit her favor. She was often visited by people in high life. One day, Sir James Melton, an English gentleman of great property, came to the establishment along with a party of ladies. He noticed me. He returned again. He spoke to my mistress, and learnt that I was of good family-in short, learnt my whole history. The result was, that he sat down by my side one day, and asked me plainly if I would marry him.

Marry you!' cried I, in surprise.

Sir James Melton was a man of sixty, tall, pale, and feeble looking. In answer to my exclamation of astonishment, he said, 'Yes, I ask if you will be my wife? I am rich, but have no comfort-no happiness. My relatives yearn to see me in the grave. I have ailments which require a degree of kindly care that is not to be bought from servants. I have heard your story, and believe you to be one who will support prosperity as well as you have done adversity. I make my proposal sincerely, and hope that you will agree to it!'

At that time, Frederic," continued the lady, "I loved you. I had seen you but once, but the occasion was too memorable for me ever to forget it, and something always insinuated to me that we were destined to pass through life together. At the bottom of my soul I believed this. Yet every one around me pressed me to accept of the offer made to me, and the thought struck me that I might one day make you wealthy. At length my main objection lay in a disinclination to make myself the instrument of vengeance in Sir James's hands against relatives whom he might dislike without good grounds. The objection, when stated, only increased his anxiety for my consent, and finally, under the impression that it would be, after all, carrying romance the length of folly to reject the advantageous settlement offered to me, I consented to Sir James's proposal.

This part of my story, Frederic, is really like a fairy tale. I, a poor orphan, penniless and friendless, became the wife of one of the richest baronets of England. Dressed in silks, and sparking with jewels, I could now pass in my carriage through the very streets where, a few months before, I had stood in the rain and darkness-a mendicant 1"

"Happy Sir James!" cried M. de la Tour, at this part of the story; "he could prove his love by enriching you!"

“He was happy," resumed the lady. "Our marriage, so strangely assorted, proved much more conducive, it is probable, to his comfort, than if he had wedded one with whom all the parade of settlements and pin-money would have been necessary. Never, I believe, did he for an instant repent of our union. I, on my part, conceived myself bound to do my best for the solace of his declining years; and he, on his part, thought it incumbent on him to provide for my future welfare. He died, leaving me a large part of his substance-as much, indeed, as I could prevail upon myself to accept. I was now a widow, and, from the hour in which I became so, I vowed never again to give my hand to man, excepting to him who had succoured me in distress, and whose remembrance had ever been preserved in the recesses of

my heart. But how to discover that man! Ah, unconscious ingrate! to make no endeavour to come in the way of one who sought to love, to enrich you! I knew not you name. In vain I looked for you at balls, assemblies, and theatres. You went not there. Ah, how I longed to meet you!" As the lady spoke, she took from her neck a riband, to which was attached a piece of a hundred sous, "It is the same the very same which you gave me," said she, presenting it to Frederic; "by pledging it I got credit for a little bread from a neighbour, and I earned enough afterwards in time to permit me to recover it. I vowed never to part with it.

Ah, how happy I was, Frederic, when I saw you in the street! The excuse which I made for stopping you was the first that rose to my mind. But what tremors I felt, even afterwards, lest you should have been already married! In that case you would never have heard aught of this fairy tale, though I would have taken some means or other to serve and enrich you. I would have gone to England, and there passed my days, in regret perhaps, but still in peace. But happily it was to be other. wise. You were single."

Frederic de la Tour was now awakened, as it were, to the full certainty of his happiness. What he could not but before look upon as a sort of freak of fancy in a young and wealthy woman, was now proved to be the result of deep and kindly feeling, most honourable to her who entertained it. The heart of the young husband overflowed with gratitude and affection to the lovely and noble-hearted being who had given herself to him. He was too happy for some time to speak. His wife first broke silence.

"So, Frederic," said she, gaily, "you see that if I am a fairy, it is you who have given me the wand-the talisman-that has effected all!"

SONG.

Though winter comes dreary,
In frost and in snow,
A sun shall come cheery,

And bid them all go.

The spring, it shall greet us

With songs and with showers The summer shall meet us

With dancing and flowers.

But, alas for the lover
That's loved not again!
No heart can discover
A cure for the pain,
Full dark is the token

Of pleasure's adieu; The heart that is broken No hopes can renew.

The star falls in darkness,
To be no more seen,
And leaves a spot, markless,
Where splendour hath been.
On the shore, speedy drying,
Nought's seen of the wave;
So the heart for love dying
Sinks into the grave.

HOPE.

HOPE is the sweetener of every bitter draught in the cup of life. It cheers the destitute, sustains the sinking, animates the drooping spirit of incipient despair, comforts the afflicted, and consoles and supports the dying. Through the pilgrimage of life it gives strength to our fainting courage, and inspires us with a heavenly and abiding faith, as it lures us by the prospect, and stimulates us by the desire for another, a better, and a happier world. To the weary of foot, and the desolate in heart, to the poor and the wretched, Hope, like a precious restorer, comes to pour balm into their wounds, and to assuage and mitigate their griefs. At the same instant with the primeval curse pronounced upon the sinfulness of our first parents, Hope was born into our world, the companion of sorrow, suffering, and ill. Hence, wherever the shaft of affliction darts its poisonous sting, there Hope is ever to be found. As it was the first thing born into our world, to cheer poor fallen humanity through its chequered course of existence, so, as Rochefaucault has beautifully said, is the last thing that dieth in man. Mourner, whoever thou art, and whatever be the source and the character of thy grief, let this win a smile from thee, in the midst of thy tears, that when the box of Pandora was emptied of its fancied treasures, and misery and evil were spread over the earth, Hope yet lingered in the depository of pain, to soothe our sorrows, and to lighten our burthen of care.

THE DEATH-FETCH.

She stood beside me, passing fair,
And beautiful as light;

Yet pale, and still her features were
As those that softly, faintly, gleam,
Reflected on the glassy stream;
And with their silent beauty seem
To calm its waters bright.

Her brow was pale, and cold her eye;
Yet, in its silent depths, did lie
A speech that only dreams could tell,
And words could never breathe so well.
A still sad light was on her cheek-
A sober radiance, faint and meek;
Like moonbeams pale that softly steal
Upon the silent midnight air,
Some shape of beauty to reveal,

Deep slumbering in sculpture fair
Upon a marble sepulchre :
And, as they gently, fondly, trace
The lines of that angelic face,

The saddened breeze in silence keep;
As if they might not break the sleep
Of that still mourner there.

In beauty near me she did stand,
And gently laid her small white hand
Upon my fevered brow.

I felt her touch but as a breath,
Yet cold, as when we bow
To kiss the ashy lips of Death,
And shrink in terror from that kiss,
The curdling chill nothingness.
I gazed upon that form of grace,
The fearful beauty of her face,
The icy coldness of her eye,
The look of still inanity,

That shadowed all with ashy hue;

And then-oh! then, at length, I knew

The form I gazed upon in love
Was not an earthly thing;
But 't was her spirit, from above,

Around me hovering,

To tell me she was passing home-
That she was summoned to the tomb

She breathed upon my ear a sigh,
Like faery music wandering by
Upon the moonlight summer air,
So sweetly sad its whispers were.
She spake to me in murmurs low,
And mournful, as the notes that flow
Through some impassioned dream;
Yet sweet as Echo's magic note,
That on the listener's ear doth float,
Haunting the rocks and stream,
Where some lone singer's tuneful lay
In distance faint doth die away.

"I've come afar, I've come to thee,
My own beloved!

I have tracked the waves of the murmuring sea To stand once more

On the silent shore,

With thee-my own beloved!
My mother is gazing on my face,
The lingering lines of life to trace ;
My brother, in tears, is kneeling by
To watch the light of my fading eye-
To kiss the check and marble brow,
And the ashy lips that speak not now.
Yet I am afar from the bed of death,
Where they watch the pulse and the struggling t.......
Away, from my mother's weeping eyes,

And the deep, deep, sound of my brother's sighs, "I've come afar-I 've come afar,

To breathe one parting kiss of love
Ere I pass away to my home above-
To shed one tear upon thy cheek—
One parting, last, farewell to speak
To thee, my own beloved!"

Upon my lips a kiss did seem,
As 't were the breathing of a dream.
A tear upon my forehead fell,
Like dew upon a violet bell,
So gentle was its thrill;

And, as she gazed on me, a smile,
Amid her eye so still,

Did seem to strive with death awhile,
And with the paleness of her cheek
A mournful smile, serene and meek,
Like Faith that looks through earthly fears,
Like Hope amid a dream of tears.

A melting dreamy sigh did fall
Upon my ear, most musical,
Like the faery note that clings
Around the breeze-awakened strings
Of some sweet breathing lute.
Awhile it lingered on my ear,
Now dying faint, now thrilling near:
It ceased, and all was mute.

I gazed upon that shadowy thing-
She too was fading-vanishing.

Her hand was raised to the skies above;
She beckoned me with a look of love,
And on her cheek a smile still lay,

As silently she passed away.

G. B. J.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS.

DRESSES, &c.-The season brings with it its opera dresses, its elegant adaptations appropriate to the period; some most elegant ball dresses have graced the circles of fashion, of which a description would convey but a faint idea.

Elegant travestisements also have given scope to the tasteful and fertile inventions of some of our chief modistes; for some of the latter have put into requisition the historical lore of the cleverest artistes, who have, both in the costume and coiffure, exhibited the various characteristics and peculiarities of striking and picturesque historical periods.

A Pekin dress, worn by a distinguished lady in our salons of rank and fashion, was greatly admired; it had a berthe cardinale round the corsage; the sleeves, which were short and close inside, loose and flowing out, had spiral ornaments of Alençon lace, and four rows of the same round the jupon, (which was of satin in the interior), the outer row of the first-named material, and gathered up by blond rosettes, which had inner rosettes of pearl, as well as the sleeves and corsages.

A Chusan redingote was ornamented, both in the sleeves and skirt, with boullions of the same, twisted with small buds. A stomacher of lace was added, which, being elegantly embroidered, greatly set off the dress.

A very elegant ornament is composed of Mosaic trimmings, which are worn in considerable variety, particularly in those in the tunic style.

White pinks, with gold foliage, was observed on an elegant Poult de soie dress.

The Peruvian garland, a recent introduction, may reckon on a fair share of patronage for some styles at the least. An intermixture of flowers, feathers, and sprigs formed of gold beads forms this elegant embroidered ornament.

Coral is of no unfrequent occurrence as an ornament to the dress, and no less in the evening than any other costume; this, however, may not be reckoned on as of permanent duration. For the draperies of corsages, and to loop tunics, it is principally employed. With these it is mostly used in cameos.

A crape dress was made to open at the side; this was closed by a cord of violets of various shades, arranged in a zig-zag form; the sleeve, which was double, tight inside, and cut square, and flowing externally, was similarly embellished; being laced up at the side with similar ornaments on a smaller scale.

A white tersade is sometimes used for the same purpose, relieved at regular intervals by the introduction of a cumer coral.

MATERIALS AND COLORS.-In addition to many of the materials which have prevailed for some time, and which still belong to the circles of the fashionable world, as the levantines, and chinés, and chusans, and Palestines, we may enumerate the barpours d'été, the faulard de chiné, and a very rich and elegant thing-the gros de Naples brochi in pompadour. Of the levantines the short fabrics are preferred.

BONNETS, CAPS, &c.—The very beautiful, elegant, and light capotes, similar in some respects to those which came into vogue so predominantly last season, which are now about being introduced, cannot fail of obtaining equal favour.

They are not only light in themselves, but also in regard to the embellishments; whether they belong to the department of feathers, flowers, lace, or other ornaments.

Those of crape and lace may be especially cited as exhibiting these characteristics. The demi-guirlande form is chosen as a favourite mode of ornament for this style.

White satin capotes, the interior lined with the same, or with pink-coloured satin, and embellished with pink d'Angleterre, or blond, have appeared, and with great éclat.

An exceedingly pretty capote in velours épinglé, rose, glacé white, had a scarf in English point, retained by a rose on each side, the ends reaching to the chin, and seeming to tie underneath. Paille de ris will, it may be expected, become no less in vogue this season, particularly for capotes, than it was last.

Besides the usual tightness and smartness that has been apparent in the ensemble generally of late, the brims will be more diminished in length than heretofore.

Early spring flowers, as lilac or violets for instance, will be adopted.

The arrangement is observed more over the upper portion than drooping down the side as heretofore.

Among turbans, of which a great variety are now seen, few perhaps can be said to excel the Morgiana turban; it is formed of velvet, generally of a rich deep hue, with two bold, full folds in front, not quite equal in size, and with golden bandelettes and fringes; also the Zephirine, composed of tulle and golden corded résilles with the most ærial possible feathers,or other very delicate and appropriate ornament.

A very pretty visiting crape bonnet in rose color was ornamented with a ruche of tulle, forming two almost circles running one into another like a figure of 8; there was besides a tuft of violets in each circle.

A capote in moire had three biais of crape lisse towards the border, and a small straight feather in addition.

Morning capotes in gros de Naples, transparent, in taffetas, glacé, and faulard, with slight delicate ornaments are very fashionable.

VARIETIES.-Shawls of cachmere still keep up their vogue; their variety is so great in colour, texture, and pattern, that they are found to assort with almost every species of toilette, and to suit every period. They thus make not only an appropriate winter but also a spring costume; and are no less admired now than they were during our illustrations two or three months back; they are now worn long and square, very generally; many may be seen embroidered in silk. A blue, green, or black ground is frequently surrounded by a border, which is much deeper at the two extremities. Foliage, or flowers, or a blending of each are frequently worn.

A very pretty and much approved introduction, as an embellishment to evening dresses, is the Ruban écharpe, which is made of considerable width. The prevailing colors, dark blue or porcein, or similar tints; a very rich border is added, composed of gold thread mingled with buds, a rich fringe, surmounted by palms, is added to each end.

The above elegant embellishment is not confined to the use already mentioned; the coiffure known as the Grecian, as well as some very elegant coiffures twisted in the turban style, are made in the same.

A cordeliére, composed of Mosaic fancy trimming, isa ttached to the waist, being entirely brought round, and tied on one side. Among the favorite introductions of the season, few obtain more prominent regard than the new and beautiful scarfs, which are being so lavishly produced, and which bid fair to supersede to a great extent some other articles of costume, as the cloak, the pelisse for instance.

Shot velvet with embroidery a la Turque, is very brilliant in scarfs. Worked satin and some other materials in guipure embroidery, Chinese foulard worked in various colors. The rich fabrics with the Moorish patterns show well also.

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES.

PLATE 1.

FIGURE 1.-Evening dress.-Challi dress. The corsage low and peaked, with a lace berthé of old lace, united in the middle of the bust by a rosette of the same color and material as the dress; the sleeves are quite short, the outer ones in lace; the skirt, which is in other respects quite plain, is ornamented with similar lace, and alternations of rosettes in the tablier form. The hair in ringlets, and ornamented with ribbon.

FIGURE 2.-Evening dress.-Levantine dress. The corsage cut low, especially at the shoulders, and laid in bias folds throughout the upper part, peaked in the middle, less pointed than at the ceinture, which is cut in the old stomacher form; the sleeves are with slight ribbon borders, and a rose similar to that which ornaments the corsage; the skirt is made in double jupons divided, with rosettes introduced.

FIGURE 3.-Evening dress.-Poult de soie dress. Demimontant in regard to the corsage, which is laid in two broad bias over the upper part, bordered by a lace edging; noeuds of ribbon ornament both the front and the sleeves, the latter of which are short, with a lace volan termination; the skirt is made en redingote nœuds down the front, with broad revers and lace edging; pockets similarly ornamented. The turban in satin and crape, intermingled with fringed ends.

FIGURE 4.-Walking dress.- Cachmere redingote. The corsage is embroidered in the upper part, and has oblique drapings from each shoulder to the ceinture, which is extremely pointed; the sleeves are long, and tight fitting; two rows of rosettes are laid down the front of the dress, united obliquely by two cords of piping. Rice-straw bonnet with feathers.

First half-figure.-Promenade dress, made tight in the sleeves and corsage, with lace cannezou.

Second half-figure.-Evening dress, low on the bust, full and loose in the upper part of the front, with pearl ornaments. The capotes are ornamented with ribbon nœuds, marabouts, and bouquets.

Tulle cap with elegant garland bouquet of mixed flowers.
Coiffure embellished with roses.

PLATE 2.

FIGURE 1.-Robes en Tartalanes. Double pipes with broad hems, braided at the top, ornamented on the right side with nœuds and tassels; corsage low and pulled in from the shoulder to the ceinture; tight sleeve, trimmed to correspond with skirt. Coiffures in blond and satin.

FIGURE 2-Cap of figured blond, ornamented with flowers. Dress en soie glacé. Skirt very full, with two rows of lace forming a robe, with nœuds of ribbon in the centre; corsage tight and pointed, finishing with a berthé; sleeves fitting close to the arms with mittens.

FIGURE 3.-Pelisse.-Poult de soie ornée de passementerie. corsage and sleeves tight, cape trimmed to correspond with skirt.

FIGURE 4.-Dress en gros d'étré. The corsage terminates in the upper-part with a frilling, draped in perpendicular folds, graduating to a peak ending at the ceinture; the skirt full, trimmed with lace or satin, descending on each side; buttons or noeuds up the centre.

PLATE 3.

FIGURE 1.-Promenade dress.-Satin Royale. The corsage high, finished at the neck by a lace frill, the bust ornamented with rich gimp trimming, terminating at the ceinture; tight sleeves, with epaulette trimmed with gimp to correspond with the corsage; skirt rather full, open at each side, entrelacé with gimp, finished at the points with rosette and tassels, showing a sous jupe of rose-coloured silk. A poult de soie bonnet with crépe and flowers.

FIGURE 2.-Ball dress.-Madeline tissue. The corsage low and pointed to the ceinture, folds round the bust, with a bouquet in the centre; skirt full and fashioned in the robe style, with bouillon ornaments, terminating with ribbon nœuds and bouquets, short sleeves, finished with flowers and ribbons.

FIGURE 3.-Coiffure en velour, with a gold fringe. Amber satin dress, flounced with point lace. Corsage low and pointed to the ceinture; a broad berthé, concealing the bust, completes this elegant costume.

FIGURE 4.-Walking dress.-Lin pekinet. The skirt in the robe style, with a grape-vine trimming. A pelerine gornie, with lace chapeau en velour épinglé, with feathers.

PLATE 4.

FIGURE 1.-Evening Dress of Organdi; pointed corsage, volans of lace very deep and full are introduced on the skirt in front, in three rows, which together form the similitude of a tablier, the sleeve is short and tight to the arm.

FIGURE 2.-An elegant morning dress. Cap of blond and flowers. Robe of satin with sleeves faced with velvet and vandyked lace and buttons, corsage tight and pointed, and trimmed to correspond.

FIGURE 3.-Walking dress, a pelisse with a deep cape and loose sleeves, trimmed with black lace, the skirt finished with lace and nœuds of ribbon.

BEAUCOUP D'AMOUR.

Despite what wisdom's voice may say,

I fain would gather heaps of ore, And at my true-love's feet would lay, With pleased haste, the golden store. Then daily would I satisfy

Each lightest wish, Adêle, of thine : No jot of avarice have I,

But boundless is this love of mine.

To make immortal my Adêle,

Were I with powers of song inspired, My verse, which still on her should dwell, Would be from age to age admired, Thus may the future's memory

Our graven names one day entwine :
I have no wish for fame-not I,
But boundless is this love of mine.

If Providence should deign to place
My steps upon a kingly throne,
Adêle that splendid dream should grace,
And all my rights be hers alone.
To please her more, I willingly
Would see a court around me shine :
Ambition!-none of it have I,
But boundless is this love of mine.

But why these vexing vain desires, Since every wish Adêle doth crown! More happiness true love inspires, Than grandeur, riches, or renown. Then let me on that bliss rely,

Which fate can never make me tyne; Nor wealth, nor fame, nor rank have I, But boundless, boundless love is mine!