The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain

ersally true-just as we know the sun shines, or that we cannot breathe without air-still we are all certain that even the same seasons

delightful than the exquisite emotion with which a human heart, not hardened by vice, or contaminated by intercourse with the world, is softened into tend

from it-because we knew that then spring must have come! And that universal song of the lark, which fills the air with music; how can we forget the bounding joy with which our young heart drank it in as we danced in ecstacy across the fields? Spring, in fact, is the season dearest to the recollection of man, inasmuch as it is associated with all that is pure, and innocent, and beautiful, in the transient annals of his early life. There is always a mournful and pathetic spirit mingled with our remembrances of it, which resembles the sorrow that we feel for so

ons are inexpressibly dear to ourselves; and, secondly, because it is toward the close o

e western hills; but those mild gleams which characterize his setting at the close of April, had communicated to the clouds that peculiarly soft and golden tint, on which the eye loves to rest, but from which its

of miles from the village, "I am quite ignorant of

's far in th

ough the town of Ball

oes,

ur do we ar

st three in th

ut cast his eyes over the asp

he sky and atmosphere was full of warmth, and softness, and hope. As the eye stretched across a country that seemed to be rich and well cultivated, it felt that dream-like charm of dim romance, which visible darkness throws ove

d in general all equally disposed, in consequence of their previous libations, to either one or the other. Here they meet a solitary traveler, fatigued and careworn, carrying a bundle slung over his shoulder on the point of a stick, plodding his weary way to the next village. Anon they were passed by a couple of gentlemen-farmers or countr

the humbler classes. Sometimes he could catch a glimpse of them sitting around a basket of potatoes and salt, their miserable-looking faces lit by the dim light of a rush-candle into the ghastly paleness of spectres. Again, he could catch glimpses of greater happiness; and if, on the one hand, the symptoms of poverty and distress w

ar between. One after another the lights, both near and at a distance, disappeared. The roads became silent and solitary, and the villages, as they passed through them, were sunk in repose, unless, perhaps, where some sorrowing f

ust crossed a bridge that was known to be exactly sixteen m

ressing the guard, "we are abou

the neighborhood, si

ed the other, somewhat sternly, "and, ins

of the country. Yes, sir, we're exactly sixteen miles from Ballytrain

at you will not open your lips to me until we reach the town, unless I ask you

that he was mute, and nodded, but spoke not

e soul is tenderly alive to the influence of local affections, and, who, when absent, has brooded in sorrow over the memory of his native hills and valleys, his lakes and mountains-the rivers, where he hunted the otter and snared the trout, and who has never revisited them, even in his dreams, without such strong emotions as caused him to wake with his eyelashes st

, and meadow, was familiar to him, and he felt such an individual love and affection for them, as if they had

ons of the night. The river, as it gleamed dimly, according as it was lit by the light of the moon, and the lake, as it shone with pale but visionary beauty, possessed an interest which the light of day would never have given them. The light, too, which lay on the sleeping groves, and made the solitary church spires, as the

er knew that, on reaching its eminence, he could command a distinct view of the magnificent valley on which his native parish lay. He begged of the coachman to stop for half a minute, and the latter did so. The scene was indeed unrivalled. All that constitutes a rich and cultivated country, with bold mountain scenery in the distance, lay stretched before him. To th

ld effulgence which poured down upon them from the firmament. Let not our readers hesitate to believe us when we say, that the heart of the stranger felt touched with a kind of melancholy happiness as he passed through their very shadows-proceeding, as they did, from objects that he had looked upon as the friends of his youth, before life had opened to him the dark and blotted pages of suffering and sorrow. There

e light foot of his boyhood was so familiar! What, too! the school-house down-its very foundations razed-its light-hearted pupils, some dead, others dispersed, its master in the dust, and its din, bustle, and monotonous murmur-all banished and gone, like the pageantry of a dream. Such, however, is life; and he

e passengers found themselves opposite to the sign of the Mitre, whi

ressing the stranger, "I t

he course of a few minutes-for the coach changed horses there-he desired him to call

e 'Mithre,' sir, of course,"

ceeded along the shadowy side of the main street, and, instead of seeking his bed, had, in a short time, altogether vani

uscular. Of his dress, however, we must say, that it was somewhat difficult to define, or rather to infer from it whether he was a gentleman or not, or to what rank or station of life he belonged. His hair was black and curled; his features r

oots," after his return, "Wi

plied the other, "

the goodness to se

y, leaving the room with an evid

l, with Irish features, brown hair, a

said, in an int

s impossible to come at any member of thi

," she replied, with

with you for some time-perhaps a few months. Will you see now that a room and bed are prepared for me, and that my trunks are put into my own apar

ill you try them. The wild myrtles of Drumgau, beyant the demesne 'isliout, is foulded in t

osely, saw that she was an exceedingly neat, tig

n the capacity of wai

replied; "abo

e waiters in this esta

enerally act week about. This is my

at service before you c

omas Gourl

d not prevent him

e exclaimed. "And pray in wh

aid to Miss

w did you come to leave

o ask, sir," she replied, "I wi

right to enter into such inquiries; but I trust I have for

eplied, with a peculiar smile, "and

e than I expected-you had no quarrel, I hope, at parting? I beg y

he replied; "what e

forget a slice of the buck, out of the haunch, my dear; and, whisper, as you and I are likely to become better acquainted-

ad, and hesitating; "you're a sly-looking g

in a spirit of good-will and honor, and in such you may fairly accept of it. So," he added

turn, and exclaimed, wit

d you come to know that, sir

taken. I only imagined, I suppose, that you said something to that effect; but it does not matter-I have no intimacy with the Gourlays, I assure you-I think that is what you call them-and none at

atisfied that, in consequence of his having left it when a boy, and of the changes which time an