"You are monstres, diables! You do not merit to have some gentiman to teach la belle danse in dis country."

"He'll cackle like a blue-jay," said the corporal, "by the time we get the feathers on him."

"They are hen's feathers," said the lieutenant, "but they'll do. Now ensign Sacket get on to the table, and corporal you hand him the skillet of tar. You Mr. Le Vosher, or whatever your name is, stand alongside of the table."

Monsieur believed his destiny to be fixed-"Oh, mon Dieu!" he exclaimed; "le diable! qu'est que c'est que ça ? do-vat is dat ?"

Vat you

?

"Tar, tar, nothing but tar-stand up to the table," was the reply.

"Sacristie! put dat sur ma tête-on my head et sur mes habits-my clothes; mes beaux habits de noces—my fine clothes for de marriage! Oh, messieurs, de grace, pardonnezmoi; vous gaterez-you will spoil all my clothes."

"Blast your clothes !" said the corporal; "pull them off."

"Je vous remercie, tank you, gentlemen ;" and he very deliberately divested himself of a superfine light-blue broadcloath coat, and embroidered silk vest, a laced cravat and an under cravat of coarser fabric. He prolonged the operation as much as possible, making continued efforts to conciliate the compassion of his persecutors, which only added to their merriment.

At last all pretences for delay were over; every voice was hushed. The ensign began to uplift the fatal skillet, when all composure of mind forsook the affrighted bridegroom, and he uttered a loud shriek. Favoured by the general stillness, Elvira distinctly heard his voice, and knew at once that it betokened the extremity of distress. She rushed to the rescue, screaming for mercy. The men fell back, leaving their

trembling victim in the centre of the room.

"Ah! ma chère, quels bêtes!" he exclaimed, with a grimace that produced a peal of laughter. One of the men threw him his coat, another his vest; while the corporal set down the skillet, saying, "If it had not been for his gal, I'd have given him a wedding suit."

But we rather think monsieur would have been released without the interposition of his distressed bride, for a Yankey mob is proverbially good-natured, and the merry men had enlisted in the landlord's cause, for the sake of a joke, rather than with the intention of inflicting pain. After the ludicrous adventure was over-ludicrous to the jolly trainers, but sad enough to the fugitive pair-Elvira deemed it expedient to press their retreat. Monsieur brought the chaise to the door, and they drove away amidst the loud huzzas and merry clappings of the jovial company.

CHAPTER XV.

Even-handed justice

Commends the ingredients of our poison'd

Chalice, to our own lips.

MACBETH.

DAVID WILSON, not long after the affair of the robbery of his mother's desk, went to New-York, in order to see his comrades, who were imprisoned there, and, if possible, to abate ther demands on his purse. He succeeded in doing this; but having fallen in (attracted doubtless by natural affinities) with other companions as wicked, and more desperate, he soon spent in that city, which affords remarkable facilities for ridding men of their money, all that remained of the five hundred dollars. He preyed on others for a little time, as he had been their prey; and, finally reduced to extreme want, he joined two of his new associates in an attempt on the southern mail, which ended in his detection and commitment to jail in Philadelphia, where he was now awaiting a capital trial. A particular account of the whole affair, accompanied with letters from her son, was transmitted to Mrs. Wilson, who seemed now to be visited on every side with the natural and terrible retribution of her maternal sins.

After Elvira's departure, with all the profits of her little

school, Jane did not delay another moment to go to her aunt's, in order to communicate to her Mr. Lloyd's kind offer of assistance, and to extend to her any aid or consolation in

her own power.

She found Mrs. Wilson alone, but not in a frame of mind that indicated any just feelings. She received her niece coldly. After a silence of a few moments, which Jane wished but knew not how to break, she inquired of Mrs. Wilson, whether she had any more information respecting David than .was public?

Her aunt replied, she had not. She understood the particulars were all in the paper, even to his name; she thought that might have been omitted; but people always seemed to delight in publishing every one's misfortunes.

Jane asked if the letters expressed any doubt that David would be convicted?

"None," Mrs. Wilson said. "To be sure," she added, "I have a letter from David, in which he begs me to employ counsel for him: so I suppose he thinks it possible that he might be cleared: but a drowning man catches at straws."

"Do you know," inquired Jane, "the names of the eminent lawyers in Philadelphia? Mr. Lloyd will be best able to inform you whom to select among them. I will go to him immediately."

"No, no, child; I have made up my mind upon that subject. It would be a great expense. There is no conscience in city lawyers; they would devour all my substance, and do me no good after all. No, no-I shall leave David entirely in the hands of Providence."

"And can you, aunt," said Jane, "acquiesce in your son's being cut off in the spring of life, without an effort to save

him-without an effort to procure him a space for repentance

and reformation ?"

"Do not presume, Jane Elton,” replied Mrs. Wilson, "to instruct me in my duties. A space for repentance! A day -an hour-a moment is as good as an eternity for the operations of the Spirit. Many, at the foot of the gallows, have repented, and have died exulting in their pardon and newborn hope."

"Yes," replied Jane; "and there have been many who have thus repented and rejoiced, and then been reprieved; and have they then shown the only unquestionable proof of genuine penitence-a renewed spirit? Have they kept the commandments, for by this shall ye know that they are the disciples of Christ? No: they have returned to their old sins, and been tenfold worse than at first."

"I tell you," said Mrs. Wilson, impatiently, "you are ignorant, child; you are still in the bond of iniquity; you cannot spiritually discern. There is more hope, and that is the opinion of some of our greatest divines, of an open outrageous transgressor, than of one of a moral life."

66

Then," replied Jane, "there is more hope of a harvest from a hard-bound, neglected field, than from that which the owner has carefully ploughed and sowed, and prepared for the sun and the rains of heaven."

"The kingdom of grace is very different from the kingdom of nature," answered Mrs. Wilson. "The natural man

can do nothing towards his own salvation. Every act he performs, and every prayer he offers, but provokes more and more the wrath of the Almighty."

Jane made no reply; but she raised her hands and eyes as if she deprecated-so impious a doctrine, and Mrs. Wilson "Do not think my children are worse than others;

went on :