there, stoutly resisting all external communications. Messenger after messenger announced that the company were arriving, that they had all come together, and that the ball was at a stand on my account. To each of these I gave evasive answers; but when all my brothers besieged my fortress, I positively told them that I would not surrender, and that I did not intend to appear. This final determination I suspected would bring up more authoritative deputies, so I jumped into bed, and was soon lulled to sleep by the distant sound of the music and the merry feet of the dancers. I was almost ashamed to show myself the next morning at the breakfast table. However, I wisely considered that I might as well encounter all the blame or laugh at once. My mother thought it was very odd that a young man of my age should dislike dancing, and instanced the splendid display which many of equals made on the preceding night. My Father rather defended my conduct, and said that he did not see why Mat should dance if he did not like it. My Aunt was fortunately so knocked up by her fatigues, that she drank her refreshing tea by herself up stairs. I congratulated myself on having escaped so easily; indeed, I believe few knew the real reason of my absence, for sudden illness was alleged as the cause. All suspicions, which are generally very busy in our county, gradually died away, for I luckily soon after returned to Eton, where I now remain, and which I shall be the more sorry to leave, since "The King of Clubs" has published its amusing lucubrations. my I have the honour, Sir, to remain your constant admirer in every thing (the punch-bowl excepted) MATTHEW SWINBURNE. THE CONFESSION OF DON CARLOS. (Loosely imitated from the Spanish,) O TELL not me of broken vow- 9 Then do not tell me, while we part, While Youth shall bow at Beauty's shrine, Then wherefore dost thou bid me tell Thou bidst me, and I will confess :- Hear how my folly I reveal; Inez, the innocent and young, First snar'd my heart, and wak'd my song; With all the modesty of youth, We talk'd of constancy and truth ; And aye we joy'd in stolen glances, And sigh'd, and blush'd, and read Romances. And lasted, Rosa-half a year!. And then the maid grew fickle-hearted, Fair Leonora's laughing eye *The original was a Spanish idiom which we found it impossible to render literally: we believe it comes very near to the English expression which we have substituted. P. C. And yet perchance that lovely brow Came o'er me in a veil of light, And burst the bond whose fetters bound me, The tale is told and I am gone :- And thus is Love's Confession done; Give me thy parting benison; To wander o'er a foreign sea, My pilgrim's hat, and sandal shoon, Dark-eyed Castilian! let me win Let lonely sighs, and dreams of thee, P. C. SOLITUDE IN A CROWD. "This is to be alone; this, this is solitude."-BYRON. READER! were you ever alone in a crowd? -If not, thank your stars, and bestow a grain of pity upon those who must return a different response to the question. A crowded solitude, if we may use such a strange expression, is, in sober sadness, as melancholy a sensation as human nature is capable of enduring. A crowded solitude!-If you are young, thoughtless, and talkative, you will be astonished at the idea; and there will be nothing extraordinary in your surprise. The ancient poets,-poor ignorant souls!-have given us a very different description of being alone. They have defined various kinds of Solitude, suited to various descriptions of men; but all of them are alike founded on mistaken notions and groundless prejudice. Were we to follow their opinions, we should place the solitude of the lover in whispering groves, purling rills, and moonlight; that of the sage in a library, or an observatory; that of the poet in a dish of vegetables and a Sabine farm; and, à fortiori, that of the Etonian in an uncarpeted domicile, with a fractured window on the one side, and a smoking fire on the other. Is this solitude? Far from it! We must most strenuously contend that true solitude is to be found in a multitude. We are aware that the Solitude we are now discussing is not that which is generally understood by the term. Many persons have probably never heard of any but a corporeal solitude; that which we are describing is mental. The one is to be found in Caves and Caucasus; the other in Theatres and Almack's. The former delights in moonshine, the latter in candelabras; the first sets a great value upon the silence and pure air of the country; the second gives the preference to the noise and squeeze of the fashionable world; and which of these is real solitude-the corporeal, which is removed from the sight and hearing of all objects? or the mental, which both hears and sees a variety of things, and is utterly unconscious that it does either? We are distrustful of our powers of description, and will therefore endeavour to illustrate our meaning by examples. We are |