suing the route indicated by the father, | takes him for her affianced lover, and dances with him until he expires from exhaustion. My sister, alas! is a Willis, and I have often beheld her in the moonlight."

he passed the castle of Loewenstein in the night, and averted his tearful glance from the dwelling of her to whom his affections were indissolubly united.

At the moment that Emelka recovered rom the swoon into which she had fallen, a message arrived from the monastery, to the effect that Gyula had been carried away by a torrent through which he had endeavoured to pass, and was drowned.

The old woman would then relate the sufferings of her relative, and Emelka felt some alleviation of her own sorrows while listening to these strange narratives.

It was in the spring of the following year, when the Baron of Loewenstein At this intelligence, the maiden be-entered, one morning, into his daughter's came dangerously ill, and the Baron, who apartment, introducing the Lord of Zehad no other child, began to experience metreny, whom he presented as her future the pangs of remorse. He lost no time husband. Emelka, with her habitual in sending for a leech, who had the repu- obedience, raised no objection, well knowtation of curing the most difficult dis-ing that all entreaties would be useless, orders; but all the efforts of science and skill were unavailing, for Emelka languished and pined away like a flower in autumn. Winter came, with all its rigours. The Baron was often absent, hunting the wild boar, of which pastime he was passionately fond, and it was during one of these excursions he formed an intimacy with the Lord of Zemetreny, with whom he had long conferences.

and she therefore appeared resigned to her fate. The maiden, however, felt the hand of death upon her, and prayed to heaven for help. The supplication was heard, and, day by day, her steps became more feeble; the eyes, formerly so beautiful and brilliant, were lustreless with weeping, and, on seeing the long, black tresses of hair, almost covering her attenuated form, she might have been likened to a skeleton, covered with the mantle of the last enemy. She passed away from earth saying to her father

"I pardon you for having removed Gyula from me!"

The loss of his daughter was a terrible blow to the proud Baron. The violence

During the days of the dreary season, when nothing was heard but the wind whistling through the leafless forest, the cries of wild fowl, and the rough voices of the sentinels on the castle walls, Emelka would request her nurse, who was seated at the bedside, to relate some olden traditions, of which she had a won-upon her affections, of which he had been derful store in her memory: the history -and exploits of some noted Hungarian, of a past age, generally being the theme. She would also tell of the successes and mischances of love: how the perjured were always punished by supernatural beings, who issued from the earth to avenge betrayed love.

Of all these popular stories, Emelka preferred one relating to the Willis, which the nurse would invariably commence thus:

"The Willis, my dear child, is a maiden who dies with the crown of the affianced upon her brow, and such spirits wander, unceasingly, about the most unfrequented paths. If by hazard they meet a solitary traveller, the youngest of the Willis

guilty, filled him with remorse. He caused the coffin, containing the remains of his child, to be conveyed to a solitary grotto, and, renouncing the world, abode there as a hermit.

The misfortunes which had overtaken the inmates of the castle of Loewenstein, spread far and wide, and reached Croatia. Gyula obtained leave of absence, and immediately departed to visit the spot endeared to him by so many tender events.

haughty old Baron should strive to pre- THE CONTROL OF THE AFFEC

vent me.

TIONS.

A GREAT MAN'S ADVICE TO A YOUNG
LADY.

It was evening when he arrived, after a toilsome journey, under the walls of Lowenstein Castle. Although the winds were stirless in the forest, a singular It was in 1758, long before the War of agitation appeared to prevail amidst the Independence, that Colonel Washingtonfoliage, and mysterious sounds arose as he who was to become the founder of around him. It seemed as if every glade the American Republic was then called was inhabited by some sylph, and that-crossing on military business a ferry of spirits attended upon him, and influenced all his actions. As the clock of the castle sounded the hour of midnight, Gyula recognised the path on which he was about to enter, as one said to be frequented by the Willis. A plaintive song presently arrested his attention, followed by the sound of feet moving in the dance, and on turning round, he beheld near him a group of these singular beings, with long hair, in which flowers were entwined; wedding garlands on their heads; and precious rings, that shone like gleams of lightning through the darkness, upon their fingers.

The song rose louder, full of sweetness and melancholy. From the circle of the dancers, a maiden, more beautiful and languishing than the others, came forward and took the traveller by the hand. "Emelka," cried Gyula.

She raised him in her arms, and at the touch, which thrilled through his frame, he passed away in death.

The following morning, on proceeding through the valley, the Baron perceived the corpse of the young Squire.

"Pardon me, Heaven," he exclaimed, raising his eyes imploringly.

He bore the inanimate body into the grotto, near the coffin containing the remains of his daughter, and took his melancholy watch beside them, while, from that day, he saw often in his dreams the apparitions of the young lovers hovering around his hard bed, and gazing upon him with a look of pity and consolation.

NUMBERS engage their lives and labours, some to heap together a little dirt that shall bury them in the end; others to gain an honour that at best can be celebrated but by an inconsiderable part of the world, and is envied and culumniated by more than it is truly given.

"the Pamunkey, a branch of the York River," was stopped by a request to partake of the hospitality of a Mr. Chamberlayne, the owner of a domain in Virginia, where the colonel's name was honoured. The strict Washington insisted on pressing forward, but the Virginian Amphityron would take no denial, urging among other temptations that he would introduce his friend to a young and charming widow then beneath his roof. This was a Mrs. Custis (née Dandridge), aged twenty-six, who had married a gentleman who was both a colonel and an eminently successful planter. By his premature death, Mrs. Custis "found herself at once a very young and among the very wealthiest widows in the colony." Colonel Washington came to dine, and remained to woo. He was fascinated by the widow, and, marrying her, never lived to repent the step. The new Mrs. Washington had a step-son, whose son, Mr. George Washington Parke Custis, is the author of certain "Memoirs" of the great man, just issued, and he and his sister were adopted by Washington. This young lady, "Nelly Custis," when sixteen, and after her first ball, had told her revered guardian that she cared nothing for "the youth of the present day." The sound and sensible advice then given by Washington, at that time President of the United States, to his adopted daughter, is of universal application to those who, as she then was, are unengaged :

"Love is said to be an involuntary passion, and it is therefore contended that it cannot be resisted. This is true in part only, for, like all things else, when nourished and supplied plentifully with ali ment, it is rapid in its progress; but let these be withdrawn, and it may be stifled

ACCURACY.

A GREAT deal has been said and written about punctuality-a great deal has been written and said, too, about order or method. Too much could not be said, I am sure, about either, considering the importance of both. Punctuality, method, and accuracy, are all intimately connected; but each, nevertheless, embraces something which the other leaves out. I should like to say a word or two on the last, as its consequence has not been so much insisted on as that of the former two-in a domestic sense.

in its birth or mnch stinted in its growth. | be no great departure from truth to say For example, a woman (the same may be that it rarely happens otherwise than said of the other sex), all beautiful and that a thorough-paced coquette dies in accomplished, will, while her hand and celibacy, as a punishment for her attempts heart are undisposed of, turn the heads to mislead others, by encouraging looks, and set the circle in which she moves on words, or actions, given for no other purfire. Let her marry, and what is the pose than to draw men on to make overconsequence? The madness ceases, and tures that they may be rejected." all is quiet again. Why? Not because there is any diminution in the charms of the lady, but because there is an end of hope. Hence it follows that love may, and therefore ought to be, under the guidance of reason; for although we cannot avoid first impressions, we may assuredly place them under guard; and my motives for treating on this subject are to show you, while you remain Eleanor Parke Custis, spinster, and retain the resolution to love with moderation, the propriety of adhering to the latter resolution, at least until you have secured your game, and the way by which it may be accomplished. When the fire is beginning to kindle, and your heart growing warm, propound these questions to it. Who is this invader ? Have I a competent knowledge of him? Is he a man of good character-a man of sense, for, be assured, a sensible woman can never be happy with a fool. What has been his walk of life? Is he a gambler, a spendthrift, or drunkard? Is his fortune sufficient to maintain me in the manner I have been accustomed to live, and my sisters do live, and is he one to whom my friends can have no reasonable objection? If these interrogatories can be satisfactorily answered there will remain but one more to be asked; that, however, is an important one. Have I sufficient ground to conclude that his affections are engaged by me? Without this the heart of sensibility will struggle against a passion that is not reciprocated -delicacy, custom, or call it by what epithet you will, having precluded all advances on your part. The declaration, without the most indirect invitation of yours, must proceed from the man, to render it permanent and valuable, and nothing short of good sense and an easy, unaffected conduct, can draw the line between prudery and coquetry. It would

Our good maid Betty, with many excellent qualities, often creates much petty discomfort from her want of accuracy. Sometimes she puts too much salt in our soup, and sometimes too little; the latter fault can be easily remedied, but we find it difficult to take out the salt when there is too much. Sometimes she burns our throats, too, with cayenne pepper. Now a little consideration might easily teach her that a certain quantity of pepper or salt sufficed for a certain quantity of soup, and she might observe what this quantity was, and store it up in her mind. She might then reason with herself and say, if a pint of soup wants so much, a quart will require double. Betty, I observe, too, has a proper-enough idea that potatoes are required for dinner, and we generally have a dish of that vegetable, one day mealy, another day waxy, another day hard, and again pappy, all through inaccuracy. Besides, my wife and self have quite as large a dish of potatoes, or of other vegetables, when we dine alone, as when we had three or four of our cousins to dinner, though Betty knew that they were coming. In fact, my wife, who is fond of a joke, says that

Now I will not advert to the stale topic of shirt-buttons. No doubt much petty chagrin arises from the absence of a but ton at neck or wrist, when one has just enough of time to dress and go to busi

Betty always dresses fewer potatoes when | so-and-so." My dear wife, after having she expects anybody, and that the quan- been inaccurate, is also unpunctual, and tity diminishes in the proportion that the returns half an hour after time. Dinner company increases; so that if we should is at least an hour delayed altogether; ever attain to a large dinner party- and sometimes my business will not perwhich our income has never yet admitted mit of my waiting for it. My Julia of-Betty would probably send us up one always makes out, somehow or other, that potato, or probably half of one. Take the fault entirely lay with myself and eggs again: I am a particular kind of Betty; but this arises, I think, from her man-having lived a bachelor life before temper being a little ruffled by the sense marrying my dear Julia-and I like my of her own little shortcoming. eggs boiled just three minutes, or three minutes and a half, if they are large. Now Betty cannot do this. She was always making my eggs hard as stones, or bringing them up raw; because she had no accurate notion about such an in-ness; and these laundresses are always tricate subject as the boiling of eggs. She could never see that if you put them into cold water it was impossible to calculate when to take them out, on account of the fire sometimes being brisk enough to heat the water quickly, and sometimes slow enough to heat the water tardily. Poor Betty would plunge the eggs, too, when she had been warned of the cold water, into water in a state of violent ebullition and crack all the shells, which were then brought up free of their contents. I was at length compelled to have my saucepan up into the parlour, and I can now cook my eggs three hundred and sixty-five times in the year, without a failure. But Julia says, with a roguish sneer, that I am "a particular accurate man."

My dear wife (the best of women) may have a little feeling when she makes these remarks-when she says, "Oh! you are one in a thousand"-and, "Men are always twaddling about what they don't understand;" for, between you and me, I have sometimes to grumble at her, on account of her little inaccuracies. When she goes out before dinner to visit a friend, she has generally taken something with her-some bunch of keys, or something else which Betty ought to have had- -or forgotten to leave out something for Betty-or neglected to give some order to Betty, or to send something in, according to promise; so that when I arrive home with an impatient stomach, dinner is not ready: "Missus did'nt leave out so-and-so," or, "Missus forgot to do

|

divesting one's linen of its buttons (through their want of accuracy); but this shirt-button has been harped on long enough, and I think married ladies have been so worried on this subject, that I begin to take their part out of mere pity. But there is one thing I wish my wife would remember, and that is to put a clean towel on my horse for every used one that she takes away. She takes away my towels for the wash quite regularly, but I must generally stamp about the room with a dripping face, before I can get any in return; and then keys have to be found, drawers unlocked, Betty has to scamper about, before I can be supplied. I have generally to petition for soap, too, a day or two before I can obtain a piece.

Now, my dear ladies, and my dear Betties, moralists have told you how much better things are managed with order and punctuality than without them

how much more easily even. I would add that the affairs of a house can also be managed better and with less trouble through the exercise of Accuracy. It is as easy to make tea and coffee, to boil eggs, potatoes, or joints of meat, to roast and fry, and to perform other domestic duties as accurately as not; and it is infinitely more comfortable. Don't say a word about grumbling old married parties, who have been bachelors; and don't recriminate. I acknowledge, once for all, that men are worse than women, and their faults graver.

tribe that resembles the brittle stars in its power of breaking itself up. This is described so humorously by Professor E. Forbes, that I use his own words, and refer ORDER ECHI- such of my readers as are of opinion "it is good to be merry and wise," to his History of British Star-fishes.