subsided, and all is mild, mellow, warm, yet temperate; when experience ripens what kind intention put forth in honourable and benevolent design, come ye and mingle the dew of sympathy in Britannia's urn; let us all join heart and hand, and say in the plain yet expressive language of sincerity, "He is gone! he is no more! his place is vacant amongst the sons of men! peace to his manes !

'We ne'er shall look upon his like again.""

CHAPTER I.

"Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto." HORAT.

"LET us put him into the Fourth Foot," said Mr. Greenlaw, now Sir John; "it bears the name of the King's Own, and that pleases me," (his lady made no reply:) "or into the Seventh Fusileers, the dress is so elegant," (not a word:)" or into the brave Forty-second, but no, the kilt would never do for Bob: or into"-"A fool's cap," indignantly replied her Ladyship, for she was such in her own right, or rather by the courtesy very properly conceded to the descendants of the peerage. "A pretty thing indeed!" continued she, with a

toss of the head, which always was a check-mate to her husband—“a fine thing indeed, for the maternal grandson of a Peer, the nephew of a General, the cousin of an Admiral, the grandson by your side (laying great emphasis on the pronoun) of a member of Parliament, your only son and heir to twelve thousand a-year, besides (with a toss of the head number two) my property and expectancies, the Bishop's personal property, the Scotch estate in chancery, (toss number three, and it was a toss-up if ever she got it,) the Longdale reversion, the chance of brother Herbert's dying at Naples, my everlasting grand aunt's succession !—why, you must be addled, cloudy, or besotted !—what? put Herbert, whom you, like a bumpkin, choose to call Bob !"

"Robert Herbert Gascoigne, love!" gently interrupted Sir John, whose Borough interest and whose lady's pen shortly after procured him to be presented and knighted-" Herbert, my love, would make a pretty officer."—" True,"

replied she; "but you would make a pretty hand of it to put him in an Infantry Regiment, liable to be sent I don't know where."-" Well, then, in the Dragoons," said the mild partner, (for he perceived that she was on her high horse) "in the King's, or the Royal, or the Light Dragoons, the Tenth Hussars, or one of the Regiments of Lancers, (this he conceived was mounting on the scale of fashion,) or, my love, the Life Guards, or Blues."-"Neither, sweet sir, (ironically, with the usual toss,)—" neither, if you please. Herbert Gascoigne would be lost in the Life-Guard boots, extinguished in their massy helmet, oppressed by the cuirass, and, in short, would be ill at his ease. Herbert is delicate and growing, and would not suit the dress at all; neither would the masqueradish appearance of the Tenth please me;-besides, he has no beard, and would be ridiculous in false moustachios;-the lance, again, is beyond his strength; and the Light and Heavy Dragoons are not sufficiently distinguées."

"Why, Sir Marmaduke, one of your ancestors, served in the Green Horse long tails, you know," remarked Sir John.

"Green Geese!" exclaimed Lady Gertrude, "with their long tails!-you make a long enough tale of it; but you forget, mon bon homme, that you are talking of a dark age, when the Green and Black Horse were little more than regiments of Cavalry militia, and when the Life Guards were called the Cheesemongers; all gingerbread and gold leaf; shopkeepers and freeholders. But now the thing is quite altered: they are all smarted and brushed up, and have been to foreign parts; the Household Troops have gathered laurels on the Continent; and the greenhorns no longer play at soldiers, but have borne the brunt of the war in right earnest :-but none of these suit me." "The Blues ?"

"No-I don't like them."

"Because I don't like them." (A woman's