change for the better, however, having occurred in his circumstances, the young lady's friends were induced to sanction his addresses, and thus to become accessories to the course for which he has just suffered.

The unhappy man passed the last night of his bachelor existence in his solitary chamber. From half-past eight to ten, he was busily engaged in writing letters. Shortly after ten o'clock, his younger brother Henry knocked at the door, when the doomed youth told him in a firm voice to come in. On being asked when he meant to go to bed, he replied, "Not yet." The question was then put to him how he thought he could sleep; to which his answer was, “I do n't know." He then expressed a desire for a cigar and a glass of grog, which were supplied him. His brother, who sat down and partook of the like refreshments, now demanded if he would want any thing more that night. He said, "Nothing," in a firm voice. His affectionate brother then rose to take leave, when the devoted one considerately advised him to take care of himself.

Precisely at a quarter of a minute to seven the next morning, the victim of Cupid, having been called according to his desire, rose and promptly dressed himself. He had the self-control to shave himself without the slightest injury; for even not a scratch upon his chin appeared after the operation. It would seem that he had devoted a longer time to his toilet than usual.

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The wretched man was attired in a light blue dresscoat, with frosted metal buttons, a white waist-coat, and nankeen trousers, with patent leather boots. He wore around his neck a variegated satin scarf, which partially concealed the Corazza of his bosom. In front of the scarf was inserted a breast pin of conspicuous dimensions. Having descended the staircase with a quick step, he entered the apartment where his brother and a few friends were awaiting him. He shook hands cordially with all present, and on being asked how he had slept, answered, "Very well," and to the farther demand as to the state of his mind, he said, "He felt happy."

One of the party having hereupon suggested that it would be as well to take something before the melancholy ceremony was gone through, he exclaimed with some emphasis, "Decidedly." Breakfast was accordingly served, when he ate the whole of a French roll, a large round of toast, two sausages, and three new laid eggs, which he washed down with two great breakfast cups of tea. In reply to an expres sion of astonishment on the part of a person present, at his appetite, he declared that he never felt it heartier in his life.

Having inquired the time, and ascertained that it was ten minutes to eleven, he remarked, that "it would soon be over." His brother then inquired if he could do anything for him; when he said he

should like to have a glass of ale. Having drank this, he appeared satisfied.

The fatal moment now approaching, he devoted the remaining brief portion of his time to distributing among his friends those little articles which he would soon no longer want. To one he gave his cigar case, to another his tobacco stopper, and he charged his brother Henry with his latch key, with instructions to deliver it after all was over, with due solemnity, to his landlady.

The clock at length struck eleven; and at the same moment he was informed that a cab was at the door. He merely said, "I am ready," and allowed himself to be conducted to the vehicle; into which he got with his brother- his friends followed in others.

Arrived at the tragical spot, a short but anxious delay of some seconds took place; after which they were joined by the lady with her friends. Little was said on either side; but Miss Gale, with customary decorum, shed tears. Pinkney endeavored to preserve a composure; but a slight twitching in his mouth and eyebrows proclaimed his inward agitation.

The ill-starred bachelor having submitted quietly to have a large white bow pinned to his button-hole, now walked, side by side with Miss Gale, with a firm step to the altar. He surveyed the imposing preparations with calmness and gazed, unmoved, on the

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clergyman, who, assisted by the clerk, was waiting behind the railings.

All requisite preliminaries having now been settled, and the prescribed melancholy formalities gone through, the usual question was put, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy wife?" To which the rash youth replied, in a distinct voice, "I will." He then put the fatal ring upon Miss Gale's finger; the hymeneal noose was adjusted, and the poor fellow was launched into matrimony.

THE EVENING STAR.

BY BARRY CORNWALL.

THE Evening Star, the lover's star,
The beautiful star comes hither!
He steereth his barque

Through the azure dark,

And brings us the bright blue weather,

The beautiful bright blue weather.

- Love!

The birds lie dumb, when the night stars come, And silence broods o'er the covers;

But a voice now wakes

In the thorny brakes,

And singeth a song for lovers, - Love!
A sad sweet song for lovers!

It singeth a song of grief and wrong,
A passionate song for others;
Yet its own sweet pain

Can never be vain,

If it 'wakeneth love in others, Love!

It 'wakeneth love in others.