TWILIGHT IN AN UNINHABITED

HOUSE.

THE dying brands upon the silent hearth
Flicker by snatches on the dusky walls,
Through the deserted rooms no footstep falls,
Nor echo sighs of woe, nor strains of mirth.
All is deserted: rise, ye shades, arise!
Ye somewhile tenants, such as erst ye were!
My mother, in thy girlish bloom appear,
Before so many tears had dimmed thine eyes;
My grandsire, in thy manhood's freshest prime,
The mirror of a courtesy gone by ;

My grandame, fair as in that far-off time;
And thou, dear Paice, the flower of chivalry!
The hero of romance, the Christian sage,

Relic unique of poets' golden age!

March 19, 1840.

B

FAMILY PICTURES.

I.

"Of a fine old English gentleman, one of the olden time.”

Old English Ballad.

"SOME Worn-out Characters of the Last Century," the title of a pretty paper in an old and forgotten periodical,* would be an apt prefix to this little record. I derive the first section of it from the oldest family annals to which I have access—the manuscript journal of my great, great, great-grandfather on my mother's side, Joseph Paice, member of parliament for Lyme Regis. Cowper made it his modest boast, not that he was descended from the great ones of the earth, but that he was the child of parents passed into the skies; and I am sensible of greater honour derived from connection with the venerable

*The Grumbler. 1791.

English worthies I am about to commemorate,— one of whom, the last of his race, laid his dying hand in blessing on my childish head,-than from being able, as most of us may be if we go far enough to seek for them, to drag this and that illustrious name into some obsolete connection with my own.

The good old journalist of whom I am first about to speak was born in 1658 at Exeter, where the memory of his grandfather was precious for his piety; so that it appears good and holy men have been rife among the Paices for many generations. Pace is peace; and what better name for them whose lives were exemplars of peace on earth, good will towards all men? It does not appear that there were any fighting men among them, nor so much as a contentious person. They gave no trouble to the lawyers, nor did they affect duels or brawls, neither giving just offence nor being readily offended; but withal they had a nice sense of honour, as being of too high enamel to be easily scratched, and were gentlemen of the first school, which is the Christian. One of them was a courtier in the time of Charles I.,

and is named as such in Hume's "History of England."

The

The Joseph Paice of whom I am now writing narrowly escaped dying in his infancy. women were weeping around him, when an eminent minister of the gospel came to console the afflicted family, and, after praying very earnestly with them for the infant's recovery, he lifted him up from the cradle, and cried

Well, friends, God hath given it unto my faith that the child shall live. Good Lord, make him a Joseph unto Thee, and a Joseph to his relations!"

This little anecdote seems to carry its date with it. His father died in 1667, leaving his widow "low in the world, but rich in grace," and the journalist's uncle adopted him and put him to school; after which, he sent him to learn French in a counting-house at St. Malo's. On his return to England, he was placed with Mr. Hunt, a Turkey merchant; and, while still very young, he fell in love with and married a Miss Mary Payne. They had light hearts and light purses-the united amount of all they could call their own in