Something better than two years sped in all smoothness and prosperity with our young officers. A ruffled passage had not occurred between thepair ; and with the regiment they stood well;-that is to say, they were both respected, for they merited respect. None could be more regular and punctual in their duties, none more exemplary in regard to etiquette, observance of orders, or fitting attention to appearance. Frederick in all these respects was a model. In fact, he was generally admired as the most handsome as well as the most accurately dressed young officer of the corps. His figure too was elegant and soldier-like in a remarkable degree. It promised nobly; you would have said, 'he will be of majestic aspect a few years hence.' But he was re served, almost austere in his manners, and kept so much by himself, that he was rather admired by the elderly officers than liked by those more nearly of his own age. Sinclair, however, ever as open and free as day, was on good terms with every one; and as ready to borrow as to lend. Besides, his father three or four times paid his sons a visit, and was almost ostentatious in his display. The fame of his wealth had been spread, and this was a feather in Lancelot's cap.

66

"Thus stood matters about two years and a half after the young men had joined their regiment. But tidings at last reached Sinclair that his worthy father had been taken dangerously ill; it was an illness unto death, yet not till after the arrival of the son to receive his parent's last injunctions and confidings. Among these was the statement that he had willed two hundred a-year to his second-born; and Lancelot did not fail to advertise his comrade of the bequest; declaring, that had it been five times as much, it would have been equally agreeable to the heir. Weeks passed, Lancelot was obliged to repair to London on urgent business; and there to remain for a considerable period. In the meanwhile he became enamoured of town-life; exchanged into one of the household corps, and spent his money like a lord. He was welcomed everywhere; his large fortune was noised abroad; and by the end of the first season he was like many other heedless young men, more straitened for the needful than when under the eye of Frederick Farquhar, and when his father supplied each with a moderate amount to keep up their position.

"Let it not be thought that between these young gentlemen there arose any quarrel, any sort of misunderstanding. On the contrary, their correspondence was frequent; the candid confessions of the one, and the considerate suggestions, rather than admonitions of the other, introducing something like a new and dearer element into the history of their friendship.

"I have squandered all the disposable funds left by my dear father,' wrote the heir of many thousands, but shall forthwith borrow upon landed secu

6

rity a sum, the interest of which shall make safe your annuity; for the said sum shall be at your disposal, at the power of your investment. Besides, I need a few cool hundreds for my own convenience.' 'You shall do no such thing,” replied the more prudent and forecasting correspondent, for I will not accept of aught in that way; have patience; I at least can; be circumspect, and all shall yet go well. A rejection of my wish and counsel at this time will go far to work a breach which both of us would have cause to deplore.'

"In this and similar strains did the bosom friends correspond, at a period when Frederick found it indispensable to measure his expenditure by the rate of his pay, a cornet's income. Nor was it grudgingly or with other than a sort of alacrity, that the military enthusiast entered upon the experiment. 'I shall learn from it; I hope to have a triumph to console myself with; and to the task, the trial I bend myself.' Such was his stout resolvings.

"Months of this enterprise and practical effort had been gone through, with more sacrifice, however, of comfort, than he had anticipated. It was not alone that he had deprived himself of some of the necessaries of life, and of almost all its luxuries; but being determined that happen what might he should not incur debt, and also that no one should accuse him of a falling off in his equipments, it was necessary that he should forego the regimental mess-table: and thereby he incurred all sorts of misrepresentation and suspicion. He scarcely at times escaped the infliction of insult; although his calm and perfectly correct deportment, together with a persuasion of his resolute nature, if once awakened, counselled caution. But the day and hour arrived.

“A regimental inspection is at hand. General Lambert has arrived from head-quarters for the purpose; has gone through his duty; and is to finish the day by dining with the officers of the regiment. The general has a quick and experienced eye; he inquireth the name of that fine young man, whose features so strongly resemble those of an old fellow campaigner. ‘Farquhar! Farquhar !' he exclaims to the informant, the same, the same,-I must talk with him the moment leisure permits.'

"The day's task, as already said, is over; and the officers are lounging around the barracks, yawning for the hour of dinner. The general too has returned from his hotel, and is in colloquy with the colonel: 'I do not see Cornet Farquhar,' observes the general. Nor are you likely,' answers the colonel, except when duty calls. He reads a great deal, and associates little with the rest.' 'So, so,' remarks the inspector, but I must see him.'

"The summons has gone forth, and the cornet and the veteran general are arm in arm. Long and earnest is the conversation; it is all about days gone x 3

6

by, and about the cornet's father. But the dinner moment has been trumpeted, and the general never supposing that the son of his comrade is a stranger to the comforts of a luxurious mess-room, relaxes not his hold, but plants the young man next to himself. There is some speculation at table, more in thoughtful than in spoken conjecture. The general is loquacious, drinks freely, and appears intent to draw Frederick Farquhar out. The young man feels proud, it is the first time that he has met with anything like a cordial greeting; and he responds to all that is put to him with consummate knowledge and dignity. The general enjoys the conversation, but is resolved to test the cornet to the uttermost. Accordingly, he propounds questions in military history, and even in the science and tactics of war. Farquhar modestly replies, and uniformly earns approval. In the meanwhile the wine is doing its office with the veteran, and unguardedly he resolves on propounding a question of a delicate nature for a regimental mess. ‘Farquhar, a philosopher like you, should be prepared to give an opinion on the subject of duelling. Is the practice or system defensible in any case? I must have your judgment.' I once was told by a gentleman, who studied expediency above all things,' answered the cornet, with manifest reluctance, 'that no man should readily give out his sentiments on this vexed subject, lest they should be quoted to his injury afterwards. However, since you press me, I shall be candid with you, whatever the consequences may prove to myself; and a single sentence and argument will indicate what is my poor judgment. When a principal has once called in his adviser, he becomes a mere living pistol in the hands of another. Now, surely this should be sufficient to decide the folly of duelling. The idea of any reasonable being becoming a mere machine in the hands of another, in a case involving probably the life or death of himself and a fellow-creature, ought to be enough to make one reflect on the folly, and something worse, that he is guilty of. A man who consents to be a living pistol must indeed be well charged with lead, when he resigns himself, perhaps life and soul, to the will of another.' 'Capital!' exclaimed General Lambert; the best argument I ever heard,-shake hands with me, man, I must let you alone, I see.'-And yet the general had been in more than one affair in the course of his life; but then he was not much of a philosopher.

"It would not be easy to say what were the cogitations which passed through the bosoms of those who listened to the dialogue between the general and the cornet. Perhaps envy, jealousy, or some degree of rancour prevailed on the part of the younger gentlemen. Be this as it may, not many minutes had elapsed after the subject of duelling had been dropped, when the expression of every malignant feeling had full scope against Frederick Farquhar.

"General Lambert had been observed for sometime fumbling from one pocket to another, and to be growing every moment more fidgety and anxious. At length he cried out,- What the devil has become of my snuff-box, the box which his Royal Highness presented to me, and which I value beyond the price which money can measure? I had it just before I entered your mess-room, snuffed out of it, and put it into my pocket,-this identical pocket, (it was the pocket on the same side where Farquhar had walked when in close conversation with the general, and on which he now sat.) The precious gift I must and shall have, continued the excited general, clenching almost every fragment of his sentences with a round oath. More than one voice helped him out by swearing they had seen him make use of such a snuff-box as mentioned immediately previous to his sitting down to dinner, and therefore that it could not yet be far away. Every eye was now bent upon the cornet, and the scene waxed so fiery and terrible, that it will take another opportunity to describe it.

1

(To be continued.)

SEVILLE.

"It is at Seville I would pass my days."

LORD BYRON.

Do you know the ancient Hispalis, the city of a hundred towers, and its strong wall;-the smiling Seville; that city ever full of pleasure and enchantment? One loves to wander in her fertile fields, in that garden of Hercules, or gently to glide along its beauteous river beneath the shade of overhanging orange trees in blossom. We also love to saunter through the rooms of its old alcaçar (palace) in search of the vestiges of valour and love which remembrance of its early history brings to our thoughts. It was long the habitation of the Moorish kings of Spain. Afterwards it became that of the kings of Castile and of Leon-the Moorish palace formed a Christian dwelling; but then its chronicles changed their language; in their bloodstained pages we no longer read Saracenic legends of love, tournament, and war; we now read in deep red characters the word Fratricide! In one of these rooms, in the left-hand gallery, it was, that Peter the Cruel assassinated his two brothers.

Of all the monuments Seville contains; I prefer its alcaçar. There are, however many others that claim the attention of an amateur of the arts.

The singular magnificence of its cathedral must doubtless be admired, as well as its tower, named Giraldi, the work of the Moorish architect Guëver, he who invented and gave his name to that system of calculation known to us as the science of Algebra. But what do I care for its colossal statue that turns with the slightest breeze? I look for recollections that speak to my heart.

In the interior of the church these become more eloquent-its immense space offers an admirable coup d'œil, It is the largest and most regularly built church in Spain, and scarcely inferior to any in Europe. Its erection commenced in the reign of Don Sancho the Brave, and was completed in that of Don Juan II., a period including nearly a century. It once inclosed more wealth and precious objects than all the churches of the Peninsular included. The body of the edifice is an admirable chef d'œuvre of architecture, four hundred and twenty feet in length, by two hundred and sixty-three in breadth, and the height one hundred and twenty-six feet. When the last rays of an Andalusian sun penetrates the glass windows, painted by Arnao of Flanders, grotesque kaleidoscope figures of emerald, ruby, and sapphire hues, seem to dance upon the marble pavement of the nave, and shed a rainbow glory on the ancient tomb of the holy King Ferdinand. Then it is this old basilick is beautiful and mysterious, at that solemn hour when day is about to close its eyes, and night awakes to warn mankind of sleep, the emblem of death. At such a moment the seraphic tones of the finest organ in the world, resemble a choir of angels; and infidels might pray for the repose of the blessed king's soul that conquered Seville-the most delectable of cities.

The treasure contained in the cathedral previous to the invasion of the Peninsular was inestimable, according to the roll preserved of the objects. Thirty altars of massive silver; the statues of St. Isidore and St. Leander, as large as life, in silver; golden candlesticks, ornamented with precious stones, ten feet high; a custodia of silver gilt, richly studded with gems, twelve feet high, containing a pix, weighing seventeen hundred mares of silver, mounted with precious stones, and of still more precious sculpture; four hundred solid silver balustrades surrounding the high altar. These items are but a small portion of the immense wealth the piety of centuries had bestowed upon this splendid temple of God. Where are they now? The hand of conquest has violated and dispersed them. I have only named such treasures as come within the acceptation of things intrinsically of a given value. But much other treasure was stolen by the impious invaders, of a value beyond all estimation,-I mean those pictures of the most famous masters that decorated the various chapels and eighty

Shame to the guilty!