room at Oxford, with this difference only: it was not so dirty, and the adjoining room, which in college would have been a scout's room, was a sleeping-place for James Jobs-whom, to my great surprise, we found curled up in one corner, fast asleep.

While Nibson aroused James Jobs to assist us in our search for the will, I just threw my eyes round the sleeping-room. In one corner was a stump-bedstead, with a kind of dimity canopy, to make it look like a French bed-a regular forgery, as Isaac called it; a triangular washing apparatus in another corner; a chest of drawers under the window, with a towel on the top as a toilet-cloth, on which were laid out, as neatly as possible, a primitive array of decapillatory conveniences, or rather necessaries; but the most striking object was the long array of shoes and boots of all lengths, breadths, and thicknesses; high-lows, low-highs, lace-ups, mud-boots, waders, snow-boots, &c. &c. If they were not waterproof, as they professed to be, the only question was, as it appeared to me, how they ever got dry and lissome again, when they were once wet. Across the room was fixed a stout ash pole, which would have puzzled most people, and given them an idea of a patent premeditated-suicidalapparatus, or a drying-line of unnecessary stability; but it was merely for gymnastics, i. e., for twisting and twirling round until you had bruised your shins and almost every limb of your body-a medicine, certainly not an anodyne, to be taken every night and morning, as recommended by Mr. Surgeon Pugtail. On the wall (suspended by a few wafers), were some unframed prints, extracted from "Daniel's Rural Sports," "The Shooter's Vade-Mecum," and "Walton's Angler;" and in a corner behind the door, a collection of weather clothing, contemporary with, and equally as efficacious, as the eucnemidals before alluded to.

66 Umph!-ha!-odd !-curious!-funny!-very!" said Nibson. "Comfortable!-convenient-very!" said Mr. Isaac.

"Very, indeed," said James Jobs, who entered with Mr. Nibson, and advancing quietly before the partners, made a low and respectful bow, and hoped my honour was quite well.

I returned the salutation of "the boy," as James was still called, though evidently sixty at least; but in such a way as not to indicate any recognition of a former acquaintance.

"You do not remember me, Mr. Bursar, I see," said James Jobs. "I cannot," I replied, "recollect ever having seen you before; but now that I observe that scar upon your forehead-surely you cannot be the poor soldier whom Sam and I took as valet from breaking stones on the road at fourpence a day, with the thermometer at zero? and whom we christened Friday?"

"The same, sir; and had it not been for your kindness, I must have perished from cold and want."

The fact was, James Jobs, or Man Friday, as we called him at college, was of a respectable tradesman's family near Oxford; but being of a "roving disposition," had, early in life, enlisted into a horse regiment, and served in the American war, where, in consequence of a severe sabre cut over the eyes, which had very nearly proved fatal, he got his discharge, and returned to England to find his family extinct, with the exception of one cousin, whowas so much elevated in life, as to disown poor James; the result was, that he got a deal of pity, but no money; and when the few friends who remembered him after twenty

years' absence, were tired of feeding him and listening to his tales of the wars, he was forced to apply to his parish, who, in kind consideration of the severity of the cold, set him to break stones on the road, at so much per bushel, by which he got warmth, and two shillings per week, paid at twice; so that after paying for a bundle of straw, and leave to sleep in a loft, he had not much left for meat and drink; a red herring and two potatoes served him for two days, and his drink did not intoxicate him much, being chiefly Pindar's patent ariston.

We saw the poor fellow at work as we were trying to warm our limbs up Headington-hill, and finding that he had served as an officer's servant in a cavalry regiment, and could look after a horse well, we engaged him at a trifle a week, and let him have the run of rack and manger. The day of his relief from starving and stone-breaking being Friday-and Robinson Crusoe's valet running in our heads-we termed James Jobs "Friday," and by that name he went, as long as Sam remained at college. It appeared that he had lived with my friend Sam, off and on, as he said, ever since, and he had hoped not to outlive a master who, whether rich or poor, had always proved to him a kind friend.

When James had recovered himself, and could command his feelings sufficiently to address me again-"Sir," said he, "I am glad you are come down-I always told master you would stand his friend, and the assurance seemed to comfort him. I have here sir, in this drawer, a letter and a packet which I was to give into your hands; the packet is bulky, and it took master many years to write it but it amused him in the long evenings, when his health would not allow him to enjoy his friends' fire-side. Master, sir, was an odd man, and may be, the new-light people might think him a bad one, because he loved sporting. But what I look at, sir, is this, never was a man more beloved in the parishhis church was full of a Sunday, and he preached what we could all understand. If he offended any one, it would have been these gentlemen here," bowing to Nibson and Inkspot, "for he was a regular lawyer starver, and settled all disputes quicker and cheaper than a chief justice."

"Perfectly correct," said Nibson. "True-very!" said his partner.

"And here," continued James Jobs, "is what master called his last testament, poor fellow-he had not much to will away-he gave away all he could spare while he lived--and he lived the happier for it. He had but one fault that ever I found out, sir, and that was what lost him his life at last he wanted ballast-and as Mr. Heavysides, the coroner, justly observed, that was what lost the Merry-go-round-she wanted ballast."

I cast my eye over the will and found that he had left every thing to me, including James Jobs-begging that I would merely distribute such of his property as I did not want in the following way :-to Nibson, his books, for his eldest boy's use-to Inkspot, his writing-desk, regretting that the key was lost-his guns, to the keepers at the park— his fishing tackle, to James, who was as great a "killer" as his master -and his boots and shoes, clothes, &c., to the poorest of his parishioners, whose wants no one knew better than himself.

I gave orders to Nibson and Inkspot to dispose of the furniture, and

distribute the proceeds of it among the poor of the parish generally, and took James Jobs and the parcel to the Rentborough Arms, where the worthy solicitors received a check from me to cover all their demands, and whether it was doubly gratifying on account of its being unexpected, or not, I don't know, but they became doubly civil, and even invited me to dinner. This I begged to decline, and bowed them out; and, ordering James to book two outsides, I started by the first coach, and after being regularly soaked here I am."

"And where," said our senior editor, "is James Jobs?"

"Sound asleep in his old quarters by this time, I ordered him a commons, and a pint of the dean's particular, as I came in, and rely on it, he has since been to the stables and rubbed my horse down, and laid himself up in clover in the pallet, as usual."

"And what," said the vice-principal, did the parcel and letter contain ?"

"That," said the Bursar, "is at present a mystery. Peter!" "Sir!"

"Send Mrs. Peter to warm my bed, and bring me one tumbler of brandy-and-water, hot and strong.'

"Not a bad move," said the chaplain―et sic omnes.

(To be continued.)

SONG OF AN ANCIENT SICILIAN GIRL.

From beholding the radiant glory of the sun as it sunk 'neath the Western Ocean, the ancients entertained the idea that there were islands seated 'mid the far-off sea, where the souls of the blest were placed after death. (Strabo 1. Horat. 4, od. 8, v. 27. Epod. 16, v. 41. Plin. 6.)

April, 1839.

Afar, afar, 'mid the Western Isles,

Where in radiant brightness the sunbeam smiles,

Where the lingering twilight dies away,

Or in stillness enshrouded, it closes the day

Afar, 'mid those isles of the glowing west,
Eternally wander the souls of the blest,
And lovely is every scene, and fair

Are all things springing and flourishing there.

Pleasures that never can fade or die,

Brighten and bloom 'neath their cloudless sky;

And perennial streams of happiness flow,

Of bliss that none but the blest can know.

Oh! for ever to wander 'neath skies such as these,
Gliding in music o'er tremulous seas!

Oh! to be one of those spirits blest
Afar! afar! 'mid the isles of the west!

F. A. LESLIE.

THE WIDOW MARRIED.

BY MRS. TROLLOPE.

CHAP. I.

AN INCOMPLETE NARRATIVE RESUMED-AN UNEXPECTED BLESSINGPREPARATIONS FOR HAPPINESS-THE PHILOSOPHY OF RESEMBLANCE.

ALL persons tolerably well-read in biography are aware that the amiable Mrs. Barnaby, ci-devant Miss Martha Compton, of Silverton, after having lost her second husband, the reverend Mr. O'Donagough, from the effects of an unfortunate accident, which occurred to him near Sydney, in New South Wales, bestowed her still extremely fair hand on her former friend and favourite, Major Allen. But the events which followed these third espousals, though unquestionably of as much general interest as any which preceded them, have never yet been given to the public with that careful attention to the truth of history which they deserve; and it is to remedy this obvious defect in English literature, that the present narrative has been composed.

The existence of Mrs. Barnaby (this name is once more used as the one by which our heroine has hitherto been best known), the existence of Mrs. Barnaby, up to the hour in which she pledged her vows to Major Allen, before the altar of the principal church in Sydney had on the whole been a very happy one. She had in fact very keenly enjoyed many things which persons less fortunately constituted, might have considered as misfortunes; and to the amiable and well-disposed reader a continuation of the history of such a mind can hardly fail of being useful as an encouragement and example.

Mrs. O'Donagough, on the day she married Major Allen, was exactly thirty-eight years of age, at least she only wanted two days of it; and it is possible that her wish to enhance the festivity of every scene in which she was engaged, might have led her to name her birthday as that on which her third wedding should take place, had it not been that a sort of dislike which she had taken, while still Martha Compton, of Silverton, to the unnecessary dragging forth the date of the day and hour at which people were born still continued. She therefore said nothing at all about her birthday, but prepared for the solemn ceremony with as much tender emotion, and as delicate a bloom, as when she first pledged her virgin troth to Mr. Barnaby.

Born under a happy star, a pleasure yet awaited Mrs. Major Allen, the want of which she had often lamented, and of which her hopes had long since withered and faded, till at length they assumed the wornout aspect of despair. But in due time, after her third marriage, Mrs. Allen communicated to the major the delightful intelligence that he was likely to become a father.

Major Allen behaved exceedingly well on the occasion; professing his entire satisfaction at the news, and adding with newly-awakened paternal forethought, "If that is the case, Mrs. Allen, we must mind our hits as to money matters, and take care that our little evening cardparties answer."

May.-VOL. LVI. NO. CCXXI.

D

To this Mrs. Major Allen had not the slightest objection; but how powerful is maternal feeling in a woman's heart! Though she failed not to render her little Sydney soirées as attractive as ever, though she walked about the room, and behind the card-players as usual, never forgetting a single instruction given to her by her ingenious husbandnotwithstanding she did all this, her heart was almost wholly in her

work-basket!

It was really beautiful to watch the development of a mother's feelings in a heart which had never yet been awakened to them! For instance, Mrs. Major Allen had never shown herself in any country particularly fond of poor people; but now she never saw a woman in her own interesting situation without feeling her heart, or at any rate her attention drawn towards her; and many a question did she ask, and many a copper coin did she bestow, in consequence of this most amiable species of solicitude.

During the first months of her residence at Sidney, she had not perhaps chosen her intimates among the most domestic ladies; but now the case was entirely altered. There was an excellent woman, a Mrs. Sheepshanks, the wife of an attorney, enjoying great business in the town, who had more little children than any other lady in it, and with her Mrs. Major Allen now sought to form an intimacy of the most familiar kind. She delighted in nothing so much as stepping in to call upon her as soon as breakfast was over, and entering with her, even while her, nursery avocations rendered every thing like regular conversation impossible, into a sort of zigzag intercourse, between saying and doing, that to any one less delightfully alive to the innocent attractions of little children, must have appeared exceedingly tiresome.

Mrs. Sheepshanks, poor woman! like all the other ladies in the settlement, found it very difficult, not to say impossible, to keep any decent servant in her family; the few young women who deserved the epithet getting married themselves with such certain rapidity, as to give every reason to suppose that Mr. Hood's interesting anecdote of an offer of marriage being made through a speaking-trumpet, to a vessel approaching the coast with young ladies aboard, must have been founded strictly on fact.

At the time Mrs. Sheepshanks and her little family took such hold on the affections of Mrs. Major Allen, the only attendant the attorney's lady had to assist her in the labours of the nursery, was a girl of seventeen, whose domestic education not having been particularly attended to, left her with rather less knowledge of her duties in such a situation, than might have been wished.

The confusion, therefore, which sometimes ensued in this department of the household was considerable; but Mrs. Major Allen bore it all; nay, she rejoiced at the excellent opportunities this afforded of obtaining information concerning many infantine facts, of which she had hitherto lived in total ignorance.

Mrs. Sheepshanks, who though sometimes a little fretful, was in the main a good-natured woman, always received these visits very kindly; and indeed her respect for Mrs. Allen was so great that she considered them as an honour. For Mrs. Allen had, with friendly confidence, mentioned to her how near she had been to marrying a lord, of which indeed her beautiful shell necklace gave the most convincing proof;