nearly terminated, has made me doubt whether these rural customs of the good old times were always so very loving and innocent as we are apt to fancy them; and whether the peasantry in those times were really so Arcadian as they have been fondly represented. I begin to fear "Those days were never; airy dreams THE MANUSCRIPT. YESTERDAY was a day of quiet and repose after the bustle of May-Day. During the morning I joined the ladies in a small sitting-room, the windows of which came down to the floor, and opened upon a terrace of the garden, which was set out with delicate shrubs and flowers. The soft sunshine that fell into the room through the branches of trees that overhung the windows, the sweet smell of the flowers, and the singing of the birds, seemed to produce a pleasing, yet calming effect on the whole party, for some time elapsed without any one speaking. Lady Lillycraft and Miss Templeton were sitting by an elegant worktable near one of the windows, occupied with some pretty ladylike work. The captain was on a stool at his mistress's feet, looking over some music, and poor Phoebe Wilkins, who has always been a kind of pet among the ladies, but who has risen vastly in favour of Lady Lillycraft, in consequence of some tender confessions, sat in one corner of the room, with swoln eyes, working pensively at some of the fair Julia's wedding ornaments. The silence was interrupted by her ladyship, who suddenly proposed a task to the captain. "I am in your debt,” said she, "for that tale you read to us the other day; I will now furnish one in return, if you'll read it; and it is just suited to this sweet May morning, for it is all about love!" The proposition seemed to delight every one present. The captain smiled assent. Her ladyship rang for her page, and despatched him to her room for the manuscript. "As the captain," said she, " gave us an account of the author of his story, it is but right I should give one of mine. It was written by the clergyman of the parish where I reside. He is a thin, elderly man, of a delicate constitution, but positively one of the most charming men that ever lived. He lost his wife a few years since; one of the sweetest women you ever saw. He has two sons, whom he educates himself; both of whom already write delightful poetry. His parsonage is a lovely place, close by the church, all overrun with ivy and honeysuckles, with the sweetest flower-garden about it; for you know our country clergymen are almost always fond of flowers, and make their parsonages perfect pictures. "His living is a very good one, and he is very much beloved, and does a great deal of good in the neighbourhood, and among the poor. And then such sermons as he preaches! Oh, if you could only hear one taken from a text in Solomon's Song, all about love and matrimony, one of the sweetest things you ever heard! He preaches it at least once a year, in spring time, for he knows I am fond of it. He always dines with me on Sundays, and often brings me some of the sweetest pieces of poetry, all about the pleasures of melancholy, and such subjects, that make me cry so, you can't think. I wish he would publish. I think he has some things as sweet as any thing in Moore or Lord Byron. “He fell into very ill health some time ago, and was advised to go to the continent; and I gave him no peace till he went, and promised to take care of his two boys until he returned. "He was gone for above a year, and was quite restored. When he came back, he sent me the tale I'm going to show you—Oh, here it is!” said she, as the page put in her hands a beautiful box of satin-wood. She unlocked it, and from among several parcels of notes on embossed paper, cards of charades, and copies of verses, she drew out a crimson velvet case, that smelt very much of perfumes. From this she took a manuscript, daintily written on gilt-edged vellum paper, and stitched with a light blue riband., This she handed to the captain, who read the following tale, which I have procured for the entertainment of the reader. IN the course of a tour that I once made in Lower Normandy, I remained for a day or two at the old town of Honfleur, which stands near the mouth of the Seine. It was the time of a fête, and all the world was thronging in the evening to dance at the fair, held before the chapel of Our Lady of Grace. As I like all kinds of innocent merry-making, I joined the throng. The chapel is situated at the top of a high hill, or promontory, from whence its bell may be heard at a distance by the mariner at night. It is said to have given the name to the port of Havre de Grace, which lies directly opposite on the other side of the Seine. The road up to the chapel went in a zig-zag course, along the brow of the steep coast: it was shaded by trees, from between which I had beautiful peeps at the ancient towers of Honfleur below, the varied scenery of the opposite shore, the white buildings of Havre in the distance, and the wide sea beyond. The road was enlivened by groups of peasant girls, in their bright crimson dresses, and tall caps; and I found all the flower of the neighbourhood assembled on the green that crowns the summit of the hill. The chapel of Notre Dame de Grace is a favourite resort of the inhabitants of Honfleur and its vicinity, both for pleasure and devotion. At this little chapel prayers are put up by the mariners of the port previous to their voyages, and by their friends during their absence; and votive offerings are hung about its walls, in fulfilment of vows made during times of shipwreck and disaster. The chapel is surrounded by trees. Over the portal is an image of the Virgin and Child, with an inscription which struck me as being quite poetical: "Etoile de la mer, priez pour nous!" (Star of the sea, pray for us.) On a level spot near the chapel, under a grove of noble trees, the populace dance on fine summer evenings; and here are held frequent fairs and fêtes, which assemble all the rustic beauty of the loveliest parts of Lower Normandy. The present was an occasion of the kind. Booths and tents were erected among the trees; there were the usual displays of finery to tempt the rural coquette, and of wonderful shows to entice the curious; mountebanks were exerting their eloquence; jugglers and fortunetellers astonishing the credulous; while whole rows of grotesque saints, in wood and wax-work, were offered for the purchase of the pious. The fête had assembled in one view all the picturesque costumes of the Pays d'Auge, and the Cotê de Caux. I beheld tall, stately caps, and trim boddices, according to fashions which have been handed down from mother to daughter for centuries, the exact counterparts of those worn in the time of the Conqueror; and which surprised me by their faithful resemblance to those which I had seen in the old pictures of Froissart's Chronicles, and in the paintings of illuminated manuscripts. Any one, also, that has been in Lower Normandy, must have remarked the beauty of the peasantry, and that air of native elegance which prevails among them. It is to this country, undoubtedly, that the English owe their good looks. It was from hence that the bright carnation, the fine blue eye, the light auburn hair, passed over to England in the train of the Conqueror, and filled the land with beauty. The scene before me was perfectly enchanting; the assemblage of so many fresh and blooming faces; the gay groups in fanciful |