I should scarcely be worthy of his friendship—and for this I have given him my love!"

"Oh! I am rightly punished!" was the next bitter reflection. "It is Heaven's judgment that I feel what I would have inflicted."

I passed a miserable, sleepless night, trying in vain to calm my excitement. I could not reason myself out of my love, it was so reasonable; all that I could do was to trample it down under the feet of my pride-at least it was left to me to hide from him that I had the presumption to aspire to be his friend and companion. I dreaded lest he should have misinterpreted my late conduct; and yet I dreaded lest he should have read it aright. To be despised by him as a heartless coquette, or to be supposed a love-sick girl, soliciting the heart which had conquered hers,-both ideas were terrible. "Oh! he cannot know it yet; he never, never shall;" and the burning glow on my cheek seemed to dry up my tears.

There was a stern necessity laid upon me now. I would willingly have avoided Mr. Oliphant, but after our late intercourse I feared to do so. Still, occasionally, I was forced to seek his society,-to bear him converse; while every word or sentiment made its deepening impression. One day my father proposed taking me to hear a trial where the cause of the defendant was to be undertaken by his friend. I could not forego the temptation. I went. I heard right upheld against might, and with so resolute a tone, so convincing an eloquence, that that day it triumphed. Had I never admired, never loved Mr. Oliphant before, that day would have forced my heart. While his intellect commanded my admiration, his high morality and generosity of feeling drew towards him all the wavering good, all the fitful aspirations of my better nature.

"Had he loved me," thought I, "he might, perhaps, have made me worthy of him; he might have made transient emotions permanent, and strengthened moods into principles. But there is a wide chasm between us, and he does not care to lessen it."

One night I returned very late from the house of one of my fashionable acquaintances, and on entering the drawing-room, was surprised to see Mr. Oliphant sitting by the dying embers of the fire. I knew he had been going to spend the evening with my father, but had not expected to find him there alone at that hour. He rose somewhat abruptly at my entrance.

"You wonder to see me still here, Miss Elliott," he said with a passing smile, "but I have waited expressly to have the opportunity of speaking a few words with you."

He seemed embarrassed. I felt my heart beat. A wild idea-a momentary hope rose in my mind. I sat down to preserve the appearance of composure. "To-morrow," he pursued, "I leave London for several months on important business. I do not wish to alarm you, Miss Elliott; but 1 am very much afraid I may not see my old friend again. Your father's health is rapidly declining; do I assume too much with one whom I have known from a child, if I venture to remind you how much he stands in need of your attention ?"

I was silent. The reaction of his words was exquisitely painful both to my heart and pride, while every item of his explanation had a separate sting. He going! My father dying! He forced to call me back to duty!

66

"Ada," he said, "are you already displeased?" Already!" I repeated bitterly; "then you have something further to suggest ?"

"What has changed you, Ada," he demanded, fixing his eyes on my face, ill-fitted to sustain the searching scrutiny; what has become of the sweet teachableness, the better feelings of so few months back? How have I offended you? How lost your esteem?"

His earnestness almost overcame me. I felt if I did not make an effort I should betray all.

"I have the reputation of caprice," I said, with a forced laugh. "I cannot explain it in any other way. To be serious occurred amongst other moods, and has passed away in its tuin."

"I was deceived then; I believed you in ear From the stinging misery of my disappointment, nest; I cannot consent to give up the belief. It I turned again to my former pleasures, and seems to me as if then you showed your true self, plunged into everything that promised excite--your present conduct strikes me as unnatural, ment, with a recklessness that the world mistook as assuined. Throw off the disguise, Ada! Let for gaiety. Love failing me, I threw myself back me, before I go, see you like yourself." again upon admiration, and threw off, in the unchecked exercise of every power that I possessed, -the few restraints which had formerly held me. "If he whose love I valued deemed me unworthy, better reduce me to the level of those who admired me."

Once or twice, Mr. Oliphant ventured to expos tulate with me, but I could not bear it, and repulsed him haughtily. To know that, when he was present, his grave eyes followed every movement, with an anxious, pained expression, goaded me, by the law of contrariety, to fresh excesses. Even my indulgent father began to complain of my extravagance. My sarcasmn cost me the favor of my friends, my lovers dropped their suit with a mistress so contemptuous. Added to that, I felt I was sinking lower, becoming more worldly, heartless and selfish. I passed bitter nights of self-condemnation, and yet, when the morning came, I rose to spend just such another day as the last.

He approached me as he spoke and took my hand. I withdrew it hastily; I feared lest he should perceive how I trembled. He turned ab ruptly away and began to walk up and down the room. The interview was getting too painful for

me.

"Have you anything further to say!" I inquir ed at length.

"I wish I dared speak, Ada!" he returned with energy.

"No one, sir, controls your freedom." said I, gazing at his evident signs of emotion with astonishment, for I knew not how to render them. I would not a second time believe because I desired.

"Well then, I will speak. You shall listen to a dream, Ada; it had better out than burn inwardly. I have watched you with interest from a child. It was not your beauty nor your talents which attracted me so much as the existence of certain elements in your character which, I always believed, would in the end get the mastery of the

inferior, and help you to become what God meant become accustomed to the happiness of being Oliyou to be a noble work. Occasionally, as a child, phant's wife. Accustomed! yes: but it is to an you would curb your high spirit, and bear a word even deeper and fuller flavour. With him my of reproof from me. The human heart is very moral education began: happy for me, his kindly weak, Ada; perhaps it was this early amenability penetration detected something worthy of his care! to my influence that first planted the seeds which I have not, however, under his guidance lost my have struck so deep. At least, I have loved you, distinctive character. I am still ambitious,-still Ada. In the height of your frivolity and gaiety, aspiring; but my ambition has centred in becomI fancied I saw beneath all the empty glitter and ing more worthy to be his friend and companion, display, a heart capable of higher things,- -a na- and the teacher of his children; I aspire chiefly to ture superior to the life you stooped to. It was keep true time with him in his untiring progresnecessary,-ecessary to excuse to my own judg- sion towards God and Heaven. Mine is the rement the passion that was growing so strong.-trospect of gratitude, -the anticipation of love and Three months back, when you suffered me to re- happiness.-Eliza Cook's Journal.

[The Major and Laird are discovered standing on the Lake shore.]

LAIRD.-Whaur's our Palinurus? I thocht he wad be here wi' his new fangled boat afore this time, what dis he mean by keeping twa decent bodies in the cauld in sic like a fashion. MAJOR.-A little patience, Laird, even now, I see something looming in the distance and rapidly approaching.

[The Doctor and a friend are seen approaching the shore in an ice boat, under full sail.] DOCTOR.-Are you all ready? sit there, Laird, and look sharp for your head when we go about, or jibe. All right, let go. [They start.] Major, allow me to introduce to you and the Laird my valued friend, Dr. Cuticle, a monopolizer of the alphabet, I verily believe he has nearly all the letters tacked to

are to be found. How are they made, Doc

tor.

DOCTOR.-The Ice-boat was first introduced in the winter of 1832, by Mr. J. A. Cull, an ingenious fellow citizen, who made many experiments on a small scale, previous to the winter of '32, which resulted in the production of a sailing machine or boat, many of which picturesque craft we now daily see on our frozen bay. Mr. Cull at first tried common skates, and the ordinary sails of a boat, but found that the Felucca rig was best suited for convenient working. The Ice-boat is in form of an Isosceles triangle, the base of which is in front, and to which two wrought-iron skates (firmly bedded in oak blocks) are fixed; the width of the front is about 12 feet, from the ends of which the two sides are fixed, which come to a point about 13 feet on a perpendicular or centre piece, which is fixed to the front piece in the centre boarding, extends from the sides over this centre piece, and is in space sufficient to accommodate seven or eight persons. The mast is firmly fixed in a block or hollow box, firmly bolted through the junction of the base and perpendiculars. The sail, as will be seen LAIRD.-If the Ice-boat, as you ca' it, was by the drawing, comes to a point about 8 feet na so like a wheen sticks tied together, I forward of the masthead; the dimensions of should na be so afeart. Hae ye ony o' thae the sail are as follows-after leach 30 feet, yard contrivances in your country, Dr. Cuticle. 35 feet, length of boom 32 feet. The skates DR. CUTICLE.-I think in the north they vary in size, but those most liked are about 18

his name.

MAJOR.-This is certainly a most delightful and indescribable sensation-this rapid gliding along-why, Laird, sce, we are literally borne on the wings of the wind.

inches long, 8 inches deep, and † inch thick. The front skates are ground, slightly curved fore and aft, with the side edge bevelled to the outside, so as to enable the boat to hold to the windward. The stern skate is firmly attached to an oak rudder post, which is placed perpendicularly through the stern, and reaches about a foot above the top deck. The tiller fits on top of the rudder post; the stern skate is ground straighter than the two in front, and bevelled at both sides to a point. The turning of the ice-boat is managed with this stern skate-the time taken in going about is not more than three seconds. The speed attained by these boats is very high, but commonly from forty-five to fifty miles per hour, with a beam wind, or a little off; it has been doubted by theoretical men that these boats sail faster than the speed of the wind, but one fact is certain, that when put before the wind the sail becomes a baek sail and the boat will scarcely move. Now I'll repeat the words of a song which I intend to ask our friend, the Mus. Bac., to set to music for me. They are by a young friend :

1.

In a cloud of spray we fly,

While, below, a sudden roar

Of insulted pride, from the fettered tide
Rolls echoing to the shore.

2.

We heed not the water's rage,

Tho' we seek their wild domain;

to gude music. Hae ye been lang in our toun, Dr. Cuticle?

DR. CUTICLE.-But a few days. I promise myself, however, another visit shortly, as I find I cannot get through my business in the time I have to spare. Statistics are troublesome things, and require both patience and perseverance.

MAJOR.-Statistics! May I ask are you interested in our Canadian matters?

DR. CUTICLE.-I am here for that purpose. I am on a tour of hospital inspection, and to examine into the number of deaths, in certain localities, arising from certain diseases.

MAJOR.-I fear you will not gain much information hereabout. Canada offers a poor field for such investigations: it is, as you for your pockets, unMedicos would say, wholesomely healthy." What do you think of our Hospital?

DR. CUTICLE.-As far as the Hospital is concerned, it is hardly fair to ask me now. Wait till my book comes out, and I'll send you a copy.

LAIRD. Our freen thinks that the truth shouldna be tauld at a' times; it happens noo and then, and I jalouse it's so in this case, that our judgment is best shown by keeping a calm sough on matters till we're far enough awa; then we can bleeze richt and left.

DOCTOR.-I am afraid the Laird is right. Our Hospital is, I am sorry to say, not the best conducted in the world.

MAJOR. Then we ought to know the faults in the establishment; and who can better

For the billow's crest, Old King Frost hath pressed, point them out than an intelligent stranger?

And bound with an icy chain.

3.

Now, swift as the sea bird's flight,

We skim o'er the glassy bay!

Come, Dr. Cuticle, give us your ideas; you're among friends, and what you say, now, shall go no farther.

DOCTOR.-I would really very much like to hear Cuticle's remarks on the Hospital. He

Tho' no bird, in its sweep, like our bark can keep would do me a favor, by speaking boldly.

So untired, its eager way.

4.

We fear not the North Wind's might,

Tho' fierce from its frozen seat,

Where the icebergs wheel, in their dizzy reel,
And in awful conflict meet.

5.

Impelled by its icy breath,

We glide o'er the frozen main,
As shadows fly, 'neath autumnal sky
O'er a field of waving grain.

6.

On! our bark brooks not delay:

We sigh for a wider sea,

DR. CUTICLE.-I scarcely like to say anything, but if I do venture, you must promise to pardon me for telling exactly what I think. ALL-Certainly.

DR. CUTICLE. And you will also promise to let me get out of town, unscathed. I'm no fire-eater.

ALL.-We will.

DR. CUTICLE.-Well, then, on those conditions I'll give you a full and true account of my visit to your Hospital, what I saw there and what I think of it. On first arriving in Toronto, I determined to transact my business before delivering any letters, except such as were absolutely necessary. Having obtained, then, the necessary open sesame, I set off for the Hospital, which I easily found, from the directions that had been given, which were, to

Where on strong wing, ever forward we'd spring, walk along King Street, west, until I reached

And mock at the storm in our glee.

LAIRD. Vara appropriate, and will mak' a bonnie sang, if ye can get them weel married

a large square brick building, set down crookedly in a vacant lot of ground. I knew it as soon as I saw it, and thought it a very judi cious arrangement, as strangers, cannot possi

bly mistake it. I presume it was for their accommodation it was thus placed askew,

DOCTOR.-That was not the reason. It was erected many years ago, and to please some fanciful gentleman, it was placed with the front facing due south, so that the corners might represent the cardinal points of the

compass.

his, but I remember, when I was a student, the glee with which the announcement of an operation was received; even now I take an actual pleasure in seeing a skilful surgeon whipping off a leg or an arm.

LAIRD.-Eh, megstie! but ye Doctors are a hardened set o' brutes, and hae nae mair feeling than a whin stane.

DOCTOR-People like, whatever their profession may be, to see talent combined with dexterity, especially so where a minute of suffering seems a prolonged year of agony to the patient; but pray proceed, Cuticle, I am afraid that but too many of your remarks, though unpleasant, are just and true.

DR. CUTICLE.-The visiting physician tak ing a chair ordered the patients to be brought in. One by one they were presented and dismissed, after, as I thought, a very superficial examination. The tongue of one was glanced at; the pulse of another felt; a question or two asked, and then something prescribed, but what, or why, or wherefore, I am sure that not one half of the students could in any wise make out; indeed not one in ten had a chance of either seeing the patient or hearing what was said. This part of the physician's duty over, I followed in the train through the different wards, listening to the bedside clinics, but here again the crowding of the students prevented any thing like attention being paid to the remarks of the phy sician, had he made any! I come now to the worst feature in the institution-I speak with reference to the students, for if you had no students it would not matter-the want of a proper operating theatre. The amputation I saw performed-no, I cannot say I saw it, but it was performed in this wise—the patient lay in one of the back wards on the ground floor, a dark, close room; of course he had to be removed, so he was taken into the corridor, and placed on a table fronting the window which lighted the narrow passage. The operator and two or three other brother chips

DR. CUTICLE (taking out his tablets) — An odd idea. It is not the position, however, that I find fault with, but its arrangements. It does not look as if it were built for an Hospital, on entering the hall I noticed a row of benches set against the wall to accommodate the out-door patients, or those desiring admittance: it is true that there was a stove in the hall, still every time the door opened, in came a blast of cold air, on the poor sickly wretches, and God knows many of them looked miserable enough without being exposed to the wild wintry wind which whistled round their half-clad pinched and shivering forms. Who are the visitors of this Institution? Where is their humanity? Why is there not a proper waiting room for the accommodation of patients? Why are these unfortunate beings doubly unfortunate, for they are both ill and poor, not treated with more consideration. On every Hospital should be inscribed "Blessed is he who considereth the poor and needy," and the directors of the Hospital of whatever grade, should assuredly not be the las; to observe the precept. But this is not all; passing on, one of these miserables asked me if the doctor had not yet come? So, thought I, the attendant physicians are not regular, poor suffering creatures, I pity you! Thus cogitating, I passed on to the surgery. The surgery! Had I not been melancholy enough from what I had already seen, I should have burst into a laugh. The surgery! a small, badly-lighted room, with a partition across the centre, behind which were ranged on shelves musty-looking old bottles covered with dust and cobwebs; while the drawers beneath, for holding powders, roots, &c., were as dingy-occupied the space between the window and looking as the shelves above. This room, crowded as, I was told, it always is, and as it was on my visit, is no place to dispense medicines in. You ought to have a proper dispensary, with a dispensing clerk or apothecary attached, and there should also be a regulation that the room should be cleansed at least twice a year. Presently there was a bustle and stir among the students-the Doctor HAD come. He was greeted on his arrival by the MAJOR-What do you say to that, doctor? resident surgeon, who, advancing, informed DOCTOR-The picture is in the main correct, him how many of his patients had been re- and has more truth than poetry in it; but still lieved by death since his late visit, and that I think it is a little exaggerated. Cuticle has there would be a couple of operations-one been so accustomed to larger and more perfect for cataract, the other an amputation of the establishments, that our imperfections appear leg, below the knee, of a man who suffered from more glaring and of more importance than a compound comminuted fracture of both they really are. He ought to remember that bones. The students manifested, very natur- the Hospital was erected fully thirty years ally, evident symptoms of delight at hearing ago, and was then a noble institution." Since

table, the students stood chiefly in the rear of the table, on stools, benches, or chairs, so as best to command a view, and two actually got on the table on either side of the head of the unfortunate patient; they, doubtless, saw best. I was so disgusted with the whole af fair that I left the hospital, marking it down in my note book as one of the worst arranged and managed I had ever seen.