gently pressed her hand, would have proved, to a man of less tact and feeling than Charles Hammond, that he was no unwelcome visitor.

I need scarcely add, that a very few days elapsed before his proposals were duly made and accepted; and not many weeks before a merry peal rang from the old tower of Churchover, to announce the marriage of the young curate.

How quiet shews the woodland scene!
Each flower and tree, its duty done,
Reposing in decay serene,

Like weary men when age is won -
Such calm old age as conscience pure
And self-commanding hearts ensure,
Waiting their summons to the sky,
Content to live, but not afraid to die.

Sure if our eyes were purged to trace

God's unseen armies hovering round,

We should behold by angel's grace

The four strong winds of heaven fast bound;
Their downward sweep a moment staid,

On ocean, cove, and forest-glade,

Till the last flower of autumn shed
Her funeral odour on her dying bed.

KEBLE.

MANY readers (and I confess that I am of that number) do not feel at all satisfied with a story which leaves off abruptly with a wedding, as if there was

S

no further interest beyond it. We prefer to dwell for a while on the contemplation of the happy event, to hear some of the particulars. And when the married couple have driven off on their matrimonial trip, we like to know what becomes of the friends of the parties, and others with whom we have been made acquainted.

Great were the rejoicings which took place on the happy occasion of Mr. and Mrs. Hammond's wedding. There was a handsome, but not ostentatious, entertainment at Mr. Walton's house; and in the evening a hundred poor families were regaled on the lawn, for Mr. Walton thought it fit that the poor should partake of his rejoicing. The poor think much more of an entertainment than the rich, and are far more easily pleased. Besides, it is written in Scripture, "When thou makest a dinner or supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours, but call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind." Mr. Walton saw no reason why this precept should not be acted upon literally on fit occasions. It was the office of Mrs. Dorothy and Mr. Hopkins to manage the arrangements of the feast, and admirably well they did it; so that while none had too much, all were satisfied and pleased. And, by-the-by, it may be well to state that Mrs. Dorothy highly approved of her young mistress's choice, having conceived a great opinion of the merits of Mr. Hammond.

Some time has now elapsed since the marriage; and Mr. Walton has the blessing of seeing his daughter happy, and his children's children around him.

Miss Anna Walton has not yet been persuaded to follow her sister's example. He would be a fortunate man who could prevail on her; and it is whispered that a certain gentleman in the neighbour

hood, not without the approbation of Mr. Walton, is laying close siege, and that there are strong symptoms of the fortress surrendering.

Mrs. Decorset and her family have left Churchover, not finding it genteel enough for them; and are now living at Boulogne, where Mrs. Decorset (or, as she now styles herself, Madame de Courcy) passes for the widow of a French nobleman ; and they are considered very fashionable people.

As to Mr. Raffles, he has verified the old proverb, that misfortunes never come single. Soon after the ill success of his newspaper-scheme, he lost half his fortune by the failure of another speculation in which he had engaged. He has been obliged to remove to a smaller house, and give up his liqueurs and old wines. But, what is remarkable, though his fortune is so much diminished, and his hospitality to his friends curtailed from want of means, he gives away to the poor more than ever he did before, and is always ready to subscribe handsomely to charitable and religious purposes. It should be stated also, that in politics he has quite come round to his friend's opinion, and only wonders "what on earth possessed him when he was a liberal."

Old Ambrose has gone to his rest in peace and hope.

Mr. Walton is now considerably past his seventieth year, yet still retains much of his former vigour and activity, and is as wise and agreeable, as practical and philosophical, as ever. He has gradually withdrawn from the management of some of the societies and institutions, and has become fonder of the retirement of his library. One subject which interests him more than formerly, and upon which he often converses with his son-in-law, is that of the unfulfilled prophecies. He has been led to this subject by the remarkable blessing pronounced at the beginning of

the Book of Revelation: "Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein; for the time is at hand." His attention has recently been engaged by a subject to which much importance is attached by many eminent writers and preachers of the present day-the second personal advent of Christ; and he fully agrees with them as to the necessity of all Christians being found ready for that great event, watching and praying for the coming of their Lord and Saviour. He has not, however, been able to discern any solid foundation for those calculations respecting dates, and the order and mode of fulfilment of predicted events, in which some have indulged; and he is therefore content to rest in the great outline of the Church's expectation, as it is taught or implied in her various services, leaving minuter details and particulars to be understood when the day itself shall declare them. Knowing the second advent of our Lord to be an event plainly revealed in Holy Scripture, -an event to which Christians are taught to look forward as the consummation of their hopes,-he is not deterred by any seeming perplexities arising from the obscurity in which future events, as to many of their particulars, are involved, from meditating, with a mixture of joy and awe, on its coming solemnities. He reads in Holy Scripture of the rise and destruction of an antichristian power previous to Christ's advent, of the perilous times of the last days, and of the sudden destruction of the mystic Babylon; and his meditations on these and other kindred subjects naturally lead him to think on the signs of the times, and the present state of the world, and especially of his own country; and, though little troubled on his own account, and prepared for whatsoever it may please God to send, yet he feels considerable anxiety about