ask him for a fee. Some persons went quite mad during the panic, and I had to undergo some unpleasant scenes when called to visit such, while under temporary constraint at the station-house.

A case of a far more melancholy character occurred at a village on the shores of the bay. A party, among whom was a young lady and her betrothed, had been out boating, and the tide having gone out, they had to gain the shore by wading a long distance, ankle deep in water. The same afternoon, the young lady was seized with severe illness, and I was sent for. It was evidently a case of acute inflammation, and not of cholera, and was treated accordingly. The young man could scarcely believe my statement that it was not cholera, his mind was so much, but so erroneously, relieved by the statement. The progress of the disorder was so violent, that the remedial measures pursued were not equal to staying it. In the evening, I was sent for again, and the bleeding and blistering were carried as far as it could be done without danger, but without diminishing the intensity of the malady; the diagnosis was now of the worst kind, and I communicated to her lover the small chances of a favourable crisis. They sent for me again at midnight, and I cantered, I scarcely know how, through groves and narrow lanes, dark as pitch. From that time till morning, when death relieved her of her sufferings, I did not quit the poor girl, when, after writing a letter of condolence to her father at Castlebar, I returned to my hospital duties.

The priests, as I before said, had assumed a friendly relation; the virulence of the disease had begun somewhat to abate; few cases in the hospital were ever fatal; the most cheering reports were daily transmitted to the Marquis of Sligo, (whose interest in the neighbourhood was so great, that he wished even for the names of every sufferer,) and Providence smiled on our exertions, when a sad disaster befel us. I had returned one night fatigued to my bed at the hotel, when a servant came rushing into my room, exclaiming that the hospital was on fire; and already, indeed, a broad sheet of flame was to be seen from my window enveloping the edifice. It was about two hours before daybreak in midsummer. Hurrying to the scene of conflagration, some spectators had already gathered there, but none offered assistance, where they fancied it could only be given at the risk of infection, even if spared by the flames. The fire had originated in the staircase, which was only a temporary one, and not boarded between the steps, while beneath was a store of hay kept for renewing the mattresses. The nurses had in my absence lighted themselves up and down, by sticking a candle on the wall, which had fallen into the hay; and thus, at the onset, the communication with the upper wards, which were full of sick, was cut off. Happily a ladder was procured, and placed against one of the windows. The smoke was, however, already so dense, that there was no proceeding except with the body nearly level with the floor. By great exertions, every patient was safely handed out of the window, and successively deposited in a neighbouring garden. Only one nurse broke her leg by jumping through a trap-door. The building was also saved, and only required a slight repair.

After this accident, I went and slept at the hospital. At this time there were also two assistants: one of them was a person who, being acquainted with the minor surgical operations, practised without licence

or diploma, among the poor of the neighbourhood; the other, was a student of medicine, and we had a room prepared for us to sleep in, taking it by turns to keep watch all night. The second night of these arrangements, I and the elder assistant were in bed. The latter had had some evil forebodings during the day, and said that he thought he should be sick. I had endeavoured to cheer him up. About one in the morning, the younger assistant came down, and said he was unwell. I rose and tendered him assistance, and put him to bed. Scarcely had this been accomplished, when the other arose in his bed, and was immediately sick. His countenance was pale and anxious; the dark areola was round his eye. I comforted the two invalids, by promising not to quit the room till they were better, or it was all over. The youth rallied from his violent sickness. In about an hour or two I had restored the right functions of the assimilatory organs; not so the elder, who survived, but only after a long and lingering illness, and he left the hospital an altered man; nor did he ever, I believe, resume those duties which his conscience did not appear to approve of in sickness.

From Westport, I went to Claremont, where the disease had not then broken out. The story of poisoning springs was rife here, and the prejudices against me very strong. To counteract these as much as possible, Mr. B―, one of the largest proprietors in the neighbourhood, and a magistrate, came out with his lady and family to meet me on my arrival, and I drove with them through the town, which did not, however, allay all expressions of feeling, and several stones were thrown at the carriage. When I proceeded to my duties in the town, assistance was refused with closed doors, and not a sufferer would go to the hospital. It was impossible, under these circumstances, to save a single case. After trying in vain every persuasive means, Mr. Bresolved upon going with me, attended by six constables, all that the town afforded, to visit one of the dirtiest and most crowded streets. This was in the evening, and every door was shut and a crowd assembled outside. The constables pointed out where there were sick people ; but our entrance was opposed by barred doors within, and showers of stones from without. Mr. B- was unfortunately in light clothes, and after night came on, was the most frequently struck. In vain he read the riot act, the populace seemed bent on driving us away. They made a rush at the constables, and one of them was thrown on a heap of stones close behind me. I was obliged to clear the space with his own carbine before he could be released. We were now hemmed in on both sides, our force was very inconsiderable, the aspect of the crowd momentarily more threatening, and the missiles more numerous and dangerous. Mr. B was obliged at length to have recourse to arms, and a few shots happily cleared the streets without injuring any one; but the crowd retired behind the houses, and kept up a continual shower of stones upon us. We were determined, however, to keep our station, and at midnight sent off a mounted policeman to Castlebar, for military aid. Early in the morning, a detachment of troops arrived, and peace was restored to the town. The same day a meeting of the inhabitants was summoned at the town hall. It was attended by the magistrates, the major commanding the detachment, the rector and priests, besides myself, on the bench; the building itself was as crowded as it could be. I then addressed the meeting at consider

able length-detailing the history and nature of pestilential cholera ; its progress, and the best means of assuaging it. This part of my address was listened to with mingled groans and derision. I proceeded, however, to advert to what had occurred under my own observation, in England and in their own country. I narrated some very striking cases, where opposition to the decrees of Providence had entailed punishment on the offenders; and I then began to touch the right key-to appeal to their common sense through the only approachable point-their superstitions. There was now perfect silence and attention; taking advantage of this, I challenged them for their unmanly hostility towards those who had no wish but for their welfarefor the harm which they did to their friends and relatives, by their ill-judged and ignorant warfare, and the danger that they exposed themselves to by impeding the steps that might be taken to prevent the spread of the disease, or to diminish its virulence. Then turning to the priests and the rector, I called upon them to second my efforts, and to assist me in pointing out the delusion under which the crowd were labouring, in accumulating upon an individual the just decrees of Providence, and the total absence of all proper religious feeling, which such a line of conduct manifested. These worthy gentlemen followed me by a few words to the desired purport. The meeting broke up in silent regret and shame for what had occurred; and from that time, although the troops left the same day, I experienced no further hostilities at Claremont.

THE CHURCH OF ST. VALERY.

A LEGEND OF VARENGEVILLE.
BY CHARLES HERVEY.

WHEN warm July bids tourists hie

The Channel to pass over,
Oft where to cross they're at a loss,
From London or from Dover.

While some would fain go up the Seine,
A pleasant journey, you'll own,
Ten-shilling fares (bewitching snares!)
Tempt multitudes to Boulogne.

The shortest way (so handbills say,

The wanderers to enlighten)
And best, "'pon rep!" is by Dieppe,
Some eighty miles from Brighton.

By rail from town you travel down

In three short hours with ease, man;
Then catch the "Dart" just on the start,
And sail with Captain Cheeseman.
When you arrive, you'll ride or drive,
Of course, as England's scions
Are wont to do, to Arques and Eu,
To stare and see the lions.

Still there's a spot which you may not
Find out, though there you can go--
A farm-house now, but once, I vow,
The residence of Ango,

VOL. II.

Full long 'tis since the merchant prince,
In fortune's prosp'rous hour,
There ruled with pride, and kings defied
With more than kingly power;

Since gallant knight and damsel bright
Held soft and am'rous parley-
In those gay halls, now cattle stalls,
Or fill'd with wheat and barley.

A league or more from this manoir,
Proud wreck of Ango's glory,
Thick woods conceal fair Varengeville,
The locale of my story.

Now France, I wot, boasts many a spot
More famed for crops and tillage;
I'll wager, though, she cannot shew
A more romantic village.

Its streets are glades whose arching
shades

Each cottage home embower,
The summer air breathes odours rare
From many a hidden flower.

Beyond the village, on a hill,

You plainly may discover,
Like bird on perch, an odd-shaped church
The seashore jutting over.

G G

THE regiment of French Hussars to which Eugene Daverny was attached was pursuing its march far from the spot where its brief halt had taken place, when that young officer emerged, alone, from the forest forming the boundary of the principal road from the north of the province of Leon to Valladolid. It was towards the close of a magnificent day, early in the eventful year which witnessed the liberation of the Peninsula from the sway of France, and at the time when Marmont was making the most desperate efforts to collect a force sufficient to save Ciudad Rodrigo from the grasp of Wellington, whose iron hand was wrenching fortress after fortress from the possession of King Joseph. Daverny's regiment had been suddenly ordered southwards, and so hasty was its progress, that although the relaxed discipline of the French armies permitted, and frequently sanctioned the straggling of parties of marauders along the line of march, for the purpose of plunder, few upon the present occasion dared to avail themselves of their liberty, so far as to risk, for the chances of pillage, the probability of being abandoned by their comrades to the terrible vengeance of the Guerillas, who hung upon the traces of the column, and found oft-recurring opportunities of avenging upon a Frenchman the outrages and atrocities perpetrated upon Spain by the soldiery of France. The disappearance of Eugene Daverny, which took place when the troops halted for their brief refreshment, had therefore excited as much surprise as regret; and although the peremptory orders under which the regiment was hurrying on, precluded all delay, often through the remainder of the day did his comrades turn in their saddles and strain their eyes along the winding road, or gaze into the thick woods around it, in the hope of discovering the young officer on his return. But it was not until night had nearly fallen that Eugene Daverny dashed into the remembered road, though unfortunately several leagues behind his regiment.

"Mon Dieu !" was his exclamation; "I am again at the place