his presence. Upon inquiry he ascertained that Mr. Irving's congregation had a mysterious assembling of themselves together in the early morning, before day-break, and to this meeting he resolved to go. Having called upon a friend with whom he was on terms of intimacy, they regaled themselves liberally with chocolate and toast, grumbled profusely at the rawness of the morning, and set off on their expedition. London before day-break! Have any of our readers walked through its streets or squares at that desolate and comfortless season? If not, they have not yet experienced one of the most chilling and unearthly sensations of which their nature is capable. The deserted streets, the deathlike silence and stillness, for now they have not so much as a drawling watchman to tell in echoes of "a cloudy morning," the flickering street-lamp casting its lonely ray across the pavement, it may be, just washed down by a shower of rain, or more comfortless still covered by thick greasy mud, occasioned by the trampling of many weary feet in a heavy mist, or drizzling London rain. At midnight, aye and for some time after, young and happy voices may be heard speaking of the enjoyments they have just left behind them, the jovial party and the merry-andrew of the night. Then you may meet a group of youths four or five abreast, linked arm in arm, as though conscious in their obscurity that "union is strength;" the centre of the party talks of "glorious fun," and the rest join in a chorus of boisterous mirth. But these groups become more scarce, and then you see before you skulking along in the darkest part of the street, the wretched, haggard, ruined gamester, starvation trembles in his limbs, and avarice and passion gleam from his hollow eyes. You see him stagger, but he is not drunken: it is the re-action, the exhaustion of mind and body after the terrible exaction to which his energies have been subjected. This state of things is succeeded by a cold and deathlike calm, after which the monster city bursts into a thing of life," stirring, bustling, whirling life. The quiet that precedes this activity, was hovering over the metropolis, when Wyliehart and his friend walked hastily through its streets, cutting off the angles of squares, and wheeling round the corners with remarkable dexterity. They had proceeded on their way some time in silence. Wyliehart's companion taking the lead with such lengthened strides that it was with great difficulty the surgeon, however much accustomed to rapid walking, could manage to bring up the rear. 66 "I tell you what it is, Rumball," gasped Wyliehart at last, "I cannot keep up this game any longer, why you spin along like a cork leg." These are the times to spin along," he replied, 66 never till this blessed hour did I literally smell the morning air; I don't wonder at Hamlet's papa's ghost finding it too cold, I can scarcely bear it with my body on. But never mind, my good fellow, another run and we shall be in the square;" and off he set faster than before. The rain had begun to batter in their faces, and the wind, as it had been an angry hound, swept with a howl up the narrow streets, seizing their cloaks and shaking them passionately, while the flames of the gas lamps danced and flickered like the death-lights over a wild moor on the night of a funeral. "Well, well, I thank my blessed stars," said Rumball, shaking himself and stamping on the church steps," here I am. This is one of the darkest cross-bars in the chequered scene of life that I have come upon yet! you must have a wonderful fancy for this meeting, Will, to walk the earth under such horrible circumstances as these.' "Do you call this walking?" said Wyliehart, "what a chase you have led me!" "Now don't stay to grumble," he replied, "but let us make haste inside, we shall find it warmer there; we have nothing now to do but to make the best of it, and thank our blessed stars that we are within gun-shot of a fire. Just untwist this shawl from my throat-there now come along." The door was left unfastened, so as to allow free ingress to all who chose to join in the morning service; Wyliehart pushed it open, in the expectation of passing at once from darkness. into a blaze of light, but his astonishment was great to find the chapel in, what at the first moment appeared to be total darkness. He was about to utter an exclamation of surprise, and to express his belief that they had mistaken the time, when his attention was attracted by a clear, distinct, echoing cough, ringing along the roof of the building, and then another, and another, each proceeding from different parts of the church, till at length his eyes having become accustomed to the darkness, he gradually discovered a considerable congregation scattered about in the pews, quietly awaiting the arrival of their minister. "I see no beadle," whispered Wyliehart, "we must help ourselves to a seat." I "See a beadle!" replied Rumball, "no, how should you, you couldn't see a dozen, if they were all in a heap within an inch of your nose. am all in a shudder-don't go in, it's so dark and cold." Wyliehart made no reply, but walked determinately up the aisle, and opening the door of a pew, situated near the pulpit, entered and seated himself. Rumball cast his eyes around him in a vain attempt to pierce the darkness, rubbed his head rather fiercely, and followed his friend. Beneath the pulpit was placed a table covered with dark green or black baize, upon which stood two candlesticks bearing lighted candles, an open Bible lay between them, and a large chair, evidently intended for the pastor of the congregation, stood behind the table. Saving from these solitary candles, no ray of light disturbed the gloom; the distant parts of the chapel and assembly were totally obscured, so that it was impossible to ascertain the extent of the building in which the meeting was held, or the number of persons assembled. On either side of the table was a long seat or form, on which the elders of the church were ranged, with their eyes fixed upon the ground, or turned upwards with a look of solemnity and expectation. After waiting some time in silence, a low rustling and trailing of silk upon the pavement was heard, and the elders rose slowly from their seats. All eyes were immediately turned towards the spot from whence the sound proceeded, and the shadowy outline of a tall majestic figure was observed just issuing from the darkness. Slowly and solemnly he swept along the aisle until he reached the chair beneath the pulpit, into which he threw himself with an air of abstraction, covered his face with his hands, and re mained some time deeply buried in mental devotion. There was a perfect hush throughout the church during several minutes, and then the Pastor rose deliberately from his seat, stretched out his hand as though to cover the whole congregation, and with eyes uplifted to heaven, remained again some time in silent prayer, mentally calling down a benediction on his flock. The light shone full upon his face and figure, bringing them out in bold relief from the darkness with which they were surrounded. The height and apostolic bearing of his form, the serious, nay melancholy expression of his countenance, the earnest supplicating glance of his upraised eyes, the long black hair which hung upon his shoulders, the flowing drapery, the uplifted hands, the grey-haired elders nearest the table, supporting the figure, the others gradually fading in the darkness, and all silent and motionless, formed a groupe so mysterious and unearthly that Wyliehart and his friend were silent with astonishment, and almost held their breath with awe. At length the prayer was ended, and in a low and measured tone the minister read several portions from the books of the Prophets, of the curses and judgments that were denounced against "the polluted city," and the "land of blood." He read of the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the arrow that flieth at noon-day, of the famine stalking through the length and breadth of the land, and the sword filling their streets with rivers of blood. "My children," said he, gently closing the Bible," the day of wrath is at hand! already has the whirlwind been sent forth in fury; desolation and horror and a blasting tempest, are even now gathering around us! The bloody city has filled the measure of her iniquities! Howl-and cry-for the day of wrath is at hand!" At this moment a low, wailing sound was heard to proceed from a seat near the speaker, he paused, raised his right hand, as though commanding silence, placed his left upon his breast, and with closed eyes devoutly waited the continuance of the revelation. Gradually the mournful wail increased and swelled till the roof reverberated the sound, and a female form was seen to rise slowly from her seat, then the voice became fainter and fainter till it had nearly died away. Suddenly the tone increased again, and she uttered rapid syllables of unknown import, but with a wildness and energy that made the two friends tremble in their seats. At length they could distinguish the words "He cometh in judgment! woe! woe! woe! to the bloody city! He cometh! He cometh! He cometh!" Each repetition was higher and londer than the preceding one, till the last words were uttered in a piercing shriek, and she then fell prostrate to the ground, in a state of complete insensibility. Two of the elders carried her out, and the Pastor proceeded with his address. He had studied and compared the Prophets, he had calculated times and seasons, he had been favoured with revelations in dreams and visions of the night, and he knew without a doubt that the end of all things was at hand. And then he burst again into a lamentation over the fearful destruction that he believed awaited the inhabitants of the Earth. "Let us go," whispered Wyliehart, "I really cannot bear this any longer." He looked at his friend as he spoke, his head had dropped upon his shoulder and his eyes were closed. "Tom," said he, half aloud, "don't be a fool! What is there to frighten you? Come, we'll go home;" and he took him by the arm to enforce his request, but Rumball exhibited no sign of consciousness. The quick eye of the minister was immediately upon them, "Hush," said he in a thrilling whisper that hissed round the walls of the church, "it is another revelation!" Wyliehart stood uncertain how to act, for it was evident to him his friend was in a fit. At length, after a pause, the Pastor said in a solemn voice, "It is a spiritual movement, but no revelation-let him be removed." Some of the elders immediately assisted Wyliehart in carrying him to the vestry, and the service went on as before. When Tom Rumball had recovered from his fit, the dawn was far advanced. It is astonishing what an effect daylight has in removing superstitious fears, and Wyliehart, who had certainly been overcome with something very like terror when in that mysterious meeting, now began to treat the whole matter as a joke. "It's nothing at all but a got up affair," said he, " from beginning to end. Why not have the place lighted and warmed and fit for Christians to sit in, then it would not take such hold of one. "Oh don't say so," replied Rumball shaking his head, "there's something more than man in all that-but don't talk about it any more. I'd rather see a ghost any time, because then you do know your customer, but this under-handed work, this shaking of the very marrow of your soul, I can't make it out at all. But don't talk about it any more, I don't want to think of it." "But seriously," said Wyliehart, "those frantic shrieks I believe to be hysterical. No doubt their minister is sincere and considers them to be revelations from Heaven, so that of course he encourages them by every means in his power. If I had stayed a little longer, I believe I should have screamed myself." Tom Rumball shook his head again, but would not prolong the conversation. "At any rate," resumed Wyliehart, "I have done with them for ever, I never wish to have anything to do with such fits as thoseNo, no, Mr. Job Popkins made a great mistake." TO TWO FRIENDS, ON THE BIRTH OF THEIR FIRST BORN. Like a bright Hope long watched through many a year; And care and fear hath not been borne in vain : DELTA. THE MELANCHOLY MAN'S MUSINGS.-No. 6. CHAPTER XIII. THE MELANCHOLY MAN SPEAKETH OF STRANGE THINGS, WHEREOF MORE IS LEFT UNSAID THAN IS SAID. WELL do I remember one glorious afternoon in the month of June. I strolled musingly among the fields. My mind was in that indescribable mood, wherein joyous and gloomy thoughts alternately chase away and reproduce each other. I was conscious to myself of a deeper life than I have ever before or since been. I seemed to dive further down into the fact of reality and the fact of unreality. Yet was I not called away from the material objects around me into philosophic reverie or dreamy fantasy; but in the thing tangible, audible, visible, I knew somewhat beyond the tangible itself, the audible, or the visible. Each play of the breeze upon my cheek brought with it a mysterious sense of things spiritual-souls departed -cherubic hoverings-Divine All-presence. Every wave of scent from the roses wafted to my soul sweet remembrances, mingled (how, I know not) with sad ones, and anon sweet anticipations, not mingled with sad, but sweet, bewilderingly sweet. Each thing I saw, from the half-shut daisy to the broad heaven-confronting ocean before me, was a universe of deep earnest thought and intensest emotion. Language cannot tell, nor could memory recall, that one afternoon's LIFE. can now gather up but a fragment of it. I had wandered thus perhaps one hour, perhaps two hours, (to me it was an age,) when I threw myself upon a grass-bank, with my eyes turned towards the sky. The gentle summer wind had quite ceased, and all was still, most solemnly still. Opposite to me there was standing a cloud, all motionless. My sight was strangely drawn towards it, for it was curiously tinged with the rays of the now almost setting sun. As I looked more and more with growing earnestness of gaze, I saw it as I had never seen cloud before. Most plainly could I discern in it hills and mountains, long winding rivers, spreading forests, with oaks that looked eternal; broad acres of meadow-land, paled around with stout substantial fences, like valuable freeholds: cities walled in, and moated, and bristling with batteries, studded with massive towering palaces; here long ranges of Doric colonnades, there heavy domes Byzantine; here huge Cyclopian monuments, there stable unshakeable Egyptian granite temples. There was hurry and bustle, and walking to-and-fro, and gatherings, and rushings in the streets. All were doing, or seeming to do, or to be about to do. A great part were bargaining and chaffering, selling their broad acres, exchanging houses or palaces, buying up freeholds and long leases. Some were piling up their gold in heaps (O how it glittered!) adding bag to bag and ingot to ingot, in thick-walled treasure-houses, with iron-barred and bolted gates, barricades, chevaux-de-frises, and thief-traps-piling and piling, toiling, sweating, fretting. could see also pomps and processions, crowns, sceptres, and gew-gaws, gilt coaches, trains, liveries, uniforms-all gay and glistening in the sun-light-heralds, champions, trumpeters, with horses and elephants, gorgeous caparisons, proud prancings and curvettings, I |