mour.

hour, walked to the window, and returned to his chair not in a very pleasant huHe got up for the seventh time; the skies still lowered. It rained as violently as ever. The streets were very wet; the few persons whom necessity had forced from home, were passing rapidly along with umbrellas, jostling against each other, and dropping with the rain. Mr. Welburn stood looking through the window, muttering to himself, "What delightful weather! it has rained for five successive days! no wonder that a man soon becomes tired of his existence ;-at a watering place, with nothing to do, cared for by no one, and with such a cheering prospect as this before him! No promenading to-day ; but the billiard rooms are open; that is some resource to an idle bachelor."

Mr. Welburn, after this mental soliloquy, drew out his watch; it was eleven o'clock. He thought nobody would be at

the billiard tables before twelve. He walked across the room, and began to sing; his voice was not melodious ;-he gave a deep sigh as he saw it still raining, and it suddenly occurred to him that the moon was nearly at the full. He took up an almanack to satisfy his doubts, and to look for a prediction of fine weather at the commencement of another quarter. He found "warm weather" announced when the moon should begin to wane ;-he sat down with the almanack in his hand, and turned to the day of the month. He smiled, when the figures recalled to his recollection, that yesterday was the anniversary of his birth. "Yesterday my birthday!" he sighed again, looked at the fire, and began to talk to himself. "I am aged one-and-thirty! 'tis odd enough ;-I never thought of it ;-one-and-thirty, and still a bachelor!" Some unpleasant recollections were associated with the word bachelor: He placed himself in an easy posture,

drew his chair nearer the fire, stirred it into a blaze, and began to meditate on the events of his life, since the death of his father left him an orphan, and his own

master.

When this event happened, Mr. Welburn recollected that he was still at college, intending to enter the church.

He

was then only nineteen, possessing a tender heart, great talents, and passions as powerful as his abilities. His father had left him a fortune, which, though not sufficient to support an Oxonian in "great style," yet made him perfectly independent. About a month after his father's death, when he had again returned to college, he became violently attached to a young lady, who was neither beautiful nor very accomplished; but she had a je ne sçai quoi about her, which Welburn was certain would make him perfectly happy, and he was equally certain that without her he should be perfectly miserable. His heart was so entire

ly engrossed with this passion, that he almost entirely neglected his college and his studies, and gave himself up to love with a fire and impetuosity not at all felt by the object of his idolatry. The lady, whose tranquil temper formed a contrast to his own, was astonished at his raptures. His comely person pleased her eye, and his vehemence sometimes diverted, and at other times almost frightened her. She listened to the rapidity of his protestations with a silent astonishment, which Welburn knew how to interpret into tenderness. He had however gained some little interest in her heart by his unwearied eloquence; in re.. turn for all his trouble, she even sometimes felt a few of the hopes and fears which kept his own breast in such a state of constant agitation; but her peace of mind was quickly restored by the interference of her parents. They commanded her never to think of a lover who came recommended by so small a fortune.

The lady was good-natured, timid, indolent, and very dutiful. She was persuaded, that a lady born of such a family, and sister to the wife of a baronet, could not even exist without an income more than ten times the amount of Welburn's. The unfortunate lover therefore received a very civil rejection of his addresses, with those common assurances of gratitude for his of fer, and as common assurances of a con, stant friendship and esteem, with which every lady refusing a lover thinks it neces sary to soften the harshness of her negative.

The mortified pride of Welburn soon determined him to feel only a lofty and cold contempt for such a chilly-hearted mercenary being, and he moreover resolved to become indifferent to the whole sex, and proudly and independently to live a ba chelor on his paternal fortune. He gave up every idea of becoming a clergyman. His disappointment rankled too deeply in