rise, Would think, to see how calmly now it sleeps, Its surgy waves will seem to strike the skies, When the wild whirlwind o'er its surface sweeps? Yet that it is so, yonder cliff will tell, Whose crumbling sides resist the waves in vain; Impell'd by storms, they rush with awful swell, And drag its falling atoms to the main.' Author's Manuscript Poems. The clouds had now advanced much nearer, and did not appear so compact as before: but as yet no lightning had burst from their cimmerian womb. The waves began to heave with an agitated swell, though as yet there was no wind. Soon a light breeze sprang up that a little ruffled the water; but the swell, that still increased, appeared not to be actuated by the wind. In a few minutes the gale increased to a fect hurricane, and I thought it ad per visable to return: 1 rose for that purpose; and as I did so, the first flash burst from the nearest cloud, which had imperceptibly gained so much on me, as to be almost over my head. The light that the flash occasioned I can only compare to an immense sheet of liquid fire. A short time elapsed, and it was followed by an extremely heavy peal, or rather succession of peals, of thunder. I now hurried on pretty quick, for it was exceedingly dark between the flashes, which were almost without intermission, and each followed by claps of thunder that were every time louder. I began to blame myself for the folly of waiting its approach as I had done; but its progress had been so much more speedy tean I had expected, that I was quite VOL. XXXVIII, deceived by it. I at first hoped to get home before it rained, but the storm at length grew so awfully violent that I wished for rain as one means of safety, and it at length poured most heavily. I was inwardly thankful for it. Previous to my getting home, I could see at a distance a fire, evidently occasioned by the lightning. At the time I could not tell what it was the flames were destroying, but heard afterwards that it was a farm-house seven miles off. What a situation for the sufferers to be in at such a moment! I reached my friend's house, and found all the family got together in the kitchen, and, except the master, terrified beyond description. I was completely soaked through every garment, and heated excessively by the hastiness of my return. The first thing I did was to drink a small glass of brandy as a precaution against taking cold, and the next was to change every article of my dress. I then rejoined my friends, and we remained together till the termination of the storm, which was not until after midnight. It was so violent as to beggar all description. I will conclude this walk with some stanzas, that are part of a small poem I once wrote after a similar storm; but they can give no idea, or but a very faint one, of its real violence. The direful pause seems fill'd with wild despain, And shudd'ring Nature owns a pang of fear. The setting sun casts round a blood-red ray, Whilst distant thunder rolls in solemn peal; An awful night-fall shuts a dreary day; And whisp'ring conscience bids the guilty feel, 3 B Walsingham-Hall, I WAS so much fatigued on Tuesday night with our journey, that after dispatching a line, informing you of our safe arrival, I retired for the night. I was waked the next morning by an early serenade from a thousand tuneful throats. I rose, and opened the shutters. The breezy morning breath'd perfume, The opening flow'rs unveil'd their bloom.' The scene was inviting; I tied on my hat, and descended. All was still, save the soft responses of the towering lark and melodious thrush. They were paying their morning prisons to that Almighty Power who bad the morning wake for them. The flowers exhaled an odoriferous perfume. I seemed to tread on air; and to render the scene quite en▾ chanting, I saw Walsingham hasting up the walk to join me. I stopped. Thus looked the first of women,' said he; "Thus stood Eve, veil'd in a cloud of fra Thus early, thus alone; her heav'nly form 'but not more soft and feminine But to return to our walk in the gardens, which are very extensive, and sloping with a beautiful declivity, are terminated by a clear stream; over which is thrown a light Chinese bridge, which leads to the path in which several small tem ples are erected. I drew the plans for some of them when in town, I have not seen them all; but one I have seen, and am delighted with it. It was designed by the late accom plished lady Walsingham, and does honour to her taste. On a smooth green plot stands a small white building in the style of an hermitage. The steps of this enchanting little grotto are cut out O may I with myself agree, The furniture is a rushy couch, cane chairs, and an oaken table. A shelf with some books is fixed in a recess on one side of the door. From the small gothic windows are perceived the glittering spires and dark turrets of the castle. The walls are in imitation of stone, and a large cross is rudely sculptured on one side. The dashing of the cascade is heard at a distance. The pleasing murmuring of the water and the wild romantic scenery, joined to the solitude of the place, raises a calm yet sublime sensation in the breast; encourages contemplation, and, as it were, estranges us to the world. as she was then with her aunt at the German Spa. And though she has been more than a year in England, she has never made one visit to town; which is the more remark. able as solitude used to be her aversion. Perhaps, she is displeased at another being in her place, as she used to be her brother's housekeeper. Yet she need not mind that; for her fortune is very large, and quite at her own disposal. We are in expectation of sir Harry Champly, and the right hon. Charles Baderly. The last gentleman is from Ireland, and is expected with great impatience by Walsingham; who says, with this addition, he may challenge all England to produce such a party as ours will then be.-Hark! the sound of horses.-I will go down, and see if he is come; for really Adolphus has made me quite curious. (In continuation.) No, 'tis not the Irish gentleman; but a letter for me, from London.— 1 may now say with Walsingham With this addition, England cannot produce a happier party than Walsingham will boast. We walked round to the front of the house, where the prospect is almost boundless. On the left, a hanging wood frowns with majestic grandeur; on the right, a beautiful sheet of water-adorn'd with ten lovely swans, and several cygnets; and in the front never can the prospect tire the view.' The lawns, the park, the distant village, bounded Who do you think is on the road by the horizon only. Such is Wal- to us? O my dear mamma! it is singham, and your daughter the the friend of my childhood, my inhappy mistress of the whole. O estimable miss Lester, who after a my mother! that your health would five years absence is returned to her permit you to come and witness my native country; and by this early happiness! Well, I must be con- favour shows she has not forgot her tent thus only to communicate it, Caroline, (although she neglected since it is impossible to see you. to write to her ;) but brings back the warm heart, the affectionate love, which used so charmingly to distinguish her. Having said so much of the house, it is time to say something of the company. Lady Mary Brilliant, lord Seymore, and Mr. Linly, arrived the night before Mrs. Howard and I. I thought lady Julia received us with less affection than politeness. You know she has not seen either ber brother or me since our marriage, With what joy, what rapture, shall I present my little Adolphus to the lovely Helen! Now, indeed, I shall watch every carriage, and the sound of every horse's foot. I can write no more; but when this joy ous interview is over you shall hear again from your very affectionate, and happy daughter, CAROLINE WALSINGHAM. LETTER II. The Hon. Charles Baderly to Sir Robert Lexton. Walsingham-Hall. BOB, you and I have both heard of Mahomet's paradise, and of its beautiful inhabitants. But I have found the happy place. If you doubt my assertion, come, my boy; come on the wings of hope to Walsingham. If I was delighted at the perspective beauty of the situation; if I was pleased with the elegant simplicity of the house; how was I astonished at-but how shall I describe, the assemblage of grace and loveliness that meet in the charming mistress of this happy place? No, my pen can never describe lady Walsingham. I may tell you, she is above the common height of women; that she is elegantly formed; that she is exquisitely fair; that her eyes are a languishing blue, and that her head is adorned with a profusion of auburn hair: but I can never tell you what lines of sense mark her expressive countenance. No, you must see her to do her justice, and then in her intelligent eye you may read her whole soul. Oh, Lexton, I little thought that I should ever envy a married man; and yet, I was never an enemy to the sex, as you know. But her husband is my friend, and that will act as an antidote against the witchcraft of her eyes.If I did not think so, I would not stay another night under her roof. But I have not yet introduced you to the company. Walsingham, who was on the look out, descried, and hastened to meet me in the park. I alighted from my horse, and we walked together to the house. How happy, my dear friend,' said Walsingham, 'does this favour make me; I have a wife, Charles; a woman I am sure you will admire, and am impatient to have you acquainted with.' We entered the house, and he led the way to the drawing-room, without permitting me to change my dress. The company were assembled there. At one of the windows stood two ladies in conversation; but on our entrance they both turned round. Heavens! what beauty did that movement discover! Oh, Bob! you would have given half your estate to have been present at my introduction. Never before had I seen such sweetness and majesty blended in one countenance as I then beheld in lady Walsingham's. 'Caroline,' said my friend, 'I can now make a return to miss Lester for the pleasure conferred on us this morning, by introducing the honourable Charles Baderly to her and your acquaintance. The longwished for, the long-expected friend of my heart." Lady Walsingham with a charming frankness gave me her hand; and I ventured, as the friend of her husband, to press her damask cheek. Walsingham took miss Lester by the hand. This lovely girl, Baderly, does my Caroline the honour to prefer her company to the gay scenes of London; and has distinguished this day by her arrival.' I saluted the lady; congatulated her on the justness of her taste. But who would not prefer their society, and the magic spot she dwells on, to the noise, the smoke, and the distraction of the metropolis. Walsingham led his fair guest to ward the company. I followed his example, with his still fairer wife. He presented me to the party; which consisted of lady Mary Brilliant, whose father you know; the hon. miss Howard (whom neither you nor I know): by the way, she is a rich handsome widow; sir Harry Champly, a most confounded coxcomb; the modest Theodosius Linley, our Carne Abbey acquaintance; and lord Seymore, à very worthy nobleman. Julia Walsingham, the sister of our friend, you remember-but the wild blooming girl you knew is metamorphosed into the pale languid woman of fashion; and her warm and lively spirits are changed to a most forbidling coldness. She is even cool to her angelic sister. What strange mutable animals are women!-and yet, I think, Walsingham's wife is an exception from this foible; she seems as happy in the company of her old friend miss Lester as she could be in the acquisition of a new acquaintance. The evening of my arrival passed very convivially; the women were sprightly-the men were rational. Miss Lester would have lady Walsingham's child brought in: she took the smiling boy in her arms, and nursed him a considerable time. He is a most charming infant and never could his nurse appear to greater advantage than while she so exerted herself: every one was delighted with her. Indeed, she is a woman of a very fine figure, of a majestic and dignified form. Though not fair, she has a lovely complexion; piercing black eyes; fine eyebrows, and hair of the same colour; with such an air of vivacity and archness difused over her countenance, that one or two in our party dare hardly look at her. I need not inform you that I make not one of their corps, No, no, Bob; though I detest a demure prude, as a stupid piece of still-life, yet I admire not the other extreme; for when a lady's animation passes a certain boundary it becomes excessively indelicate, and is more disgusting to me than even prudery. I would rather be in company with a good picture than either of them. Miss Lester, is certainly no prude. No, she is one of those good girls who make the most of the gifts which Heaven has been pleased to bestow on them. She has already distinguished me above my fellows. I know not why: unless because I have distinguished her less. Women love contradiction. They disregard the conquests they have made, and are always contriving to ensnare those who stand aloof. And where, methinks I hear you exclaim, did you, Baderly, acquire all this philosophy, that you can withstand all the contrivances of a beautiful woman, and talk of standing aloof with as much sang froid as if you had passed your grand climacteric? I will answer you, my friend.-I have not the smallest wish to be distinguished by miss Lester; but would prefer one approving smile from the mild countenance, of lady Walsingham to the most studied, the most fascinating glances of the coquetish Lester; for a coquet I am sure she is. This is the birth-day of Walsingham; and to-night we are to have a concert (several of the neighbouring families, who are performers, are expected), in an elegant temple, built, I understand, from a plan drawn by lady Walsingham, and dedicated to harmony. The lamps are already lighting; I will go down, and see who is come to increase our festivity with their company. Some country squires, I imagine; for they a laugh. ing most confoundedly loud. |