son or daughter-that kept so, mind you, from be. ginning to end-to be happy and prospered. There's a curse-God's curse, John-on all they do and all they have. I know there is. I have seen it again and again; and what's more, 'tis Scripture truth, it is, John: "Cursed be he," says the Bible, "that setteth light by father or mother :"--and the old sexton turned to his work, while the man, after looking wonderingly at him, walked slowly away.

Years -a quarter of a century or more - have passed away since the old sexton uttered this denunciation over the grave of Old Granny.' Is it chance, think you, reader, that furnishes a sequel to 'point the moral' of our sketch? Or is it the hand of God himself which is daily seen, if we would but watch the operations of his providence, setting his stamp of deep displeasure on those and theirs who trample upon his commandments-" the first commandment with promise "honour thy father and thy mother ?" Here is the sequel: A very few years passed away, and with them vanished the prosperity of the unnatural son as a morning dream. In his turn, he had first to bear the neglect and insolence, and then to suffer from the desertion of his children. His wife turned against him, as poverty enclosed the wretched family in its meshes-a poverty unsanctified and unbrightened by Heaven's grace. That wretched son of a wretched parent at length died, a drivelling sot. His wife lived to be a very counterpart of the Old Granny,' whom she had often wished in the workhouse; and found a pauper's grave. Their children

but enough; their history is not wrought out.

119

MISS BELLAMY'S LODGERS.

Now, dear Miss Bellamy, is it possible that I could have been more economical? Can I reduce my expenses more than I have done ?'

'I really think not, my dear madam; I must say that, considering your rank in life, the circle in which you move, and your expectations, you have been remarkably frugal. I wonder that Mr. Wilson should say you have been extravagant.'

Alas! how foolish talking rises in judgment against us; and the sins of our youth, how they make us blush, even in old age! And their consequences, too! -but am anticipating my story. I fancy I hear some one say, 'And pray who was Mr. Wilson ?' I am coming to him directly.

The honeymoon was not quite over, when Charles Wilson and his young wife, returning from their wedding excursion, took up their abode in that part of my large old house which it was my pleasure to let as lodgings. Mr. Wilson was a young friend of one of my friends. He had, a few months before, been appointed to a tolerably lucrative office in our town, and had consequently taken to himself a wife.

I cannot tell exactly how it was that I began in the slightest degree to interest myself about my lodgers; and indeed, at first, I secluded myself from all possible intercourse with them. It was under stood that of the two entrances to our joint habita. tion, they were at liberty to use but one; their apartments were far enough away from mine; they had their servants, and I mine,—that is, I had a single attendant who had been my nurse when a child, and

who had clung to me, or suffered me to cling to her -which amounted to the same thing-when my misfortunes, with which I will not trouble my readers, came upon me. A useful and kind woman was old Sally; she did all the business part of the lodging letting; so it happened that a whole month passed away before I had seen either Mr. Wilson or his wife; and it was from Sally alone that I learned anything of their domestic economy,-such as that Mr. Wilson regularly left home every morning at ten o'clock to go to his office, and returned at three to dinner; and that Mrs. Wilson had thus far generally occupied the interim in receiving and returning wedding visits.

My first intimacy with Mrs. Wilson was brought about by our mutual acquaintance, who told us that as we lived under the same roof, we should find it greatly to our advantage and comfort, he thought, if we were to live on friendly terms with each other. At first, I shrank from the contact, but my female lodger was good-tempered, and met my cold advances more than half way; and as time gradually subdued the poignancy of my recent grief, I was glad of some slight intercourse with my own sex, a little more polished than that of good old Sally. In course of time, I began to notice the peculiarities of my new acquaintances; but long before this, the better half" of the two had furnished me with a large amount of information respecting her family and other matters which she thought it necessary that such dear friends as we were to be, should hold in common. As for me-ah dear !—I had nothing to boast of, and so my story was soon told.

What a happy pair were Charles Wilson and his wife for six months after their marriage! how attrac tive to each other, and anxious to please! how goodhumoured and pleasant! I had not then known many young married couples; and, in my simplicity, I could not help thinking what a pity it was that all the wedded part of the world were not matched so nicely as my young friends.

What then was my astonishment when, one morning about six months after our acquaintance com menced, the door of my little sitting-room opened, and admitted the young wife in a paroxysm of tears. She had undergone a cruel mortification, she saidsuch as she had never expected. Her husband had refused to purchase some trifling superfluity upon which her heart was sct, and had, moreover, hinted that a little more economy in some personal and domestic expenditures might be convenient.

Had I been wise-but alas! I was not wise: so I encouraged the young wife to hope that her husband would think better of the matter, and, if she persevered in her demand, would give her the coveted luxury. And so he did; for the next day my friend again came to me, her face irradiated with smiles, and exhibited the proof of her victory, as she terined it. Her victory! It was a sad victory for them both.

After this it was April weather with my poor lodgers :-now a remonstrance from Charles, terminating with, 'We really cannot afford it;' succeeded by a counter-remonstrance, and 'I cannot do without it;' and followed up by another victory, narrated in words such as these to the sympathizing friend,— 'Well, Charles is a dear good fellow, after all; for I have got what I wanted.'

At one time it was an extra servant to which an objection was made. 'But,' said the lady, 'I have never lived with so few servants as a cook and a housemaid. It did very well for us at first; but now -and in my circumstances too-.' It was enough, and a lady's maid, or something of the sort, was added to the establishment. Then again, a suit of furs was the object of dispute, and How I do hate,' said Mrs. Wilson, 'to hear you continually saying you cannot afford it,-with your income too, and my expectations!' So the sable muff, &c., &c., were bought and exultingly worn. A party to celebrate the christening of the first-born was the next cause of another violent altercation; but to avoid a threat

ened fit of illness, the party was invited; and uproar enough it caused.

It would be waste of time to tell all the scenes of this kind of which I was often a witness, and to which I was, in some degree, and far too often, a party. At that time I thought my friend's husband was close and stingy; now, I know he was wise and prudent, and only too yielding. Perhaps, however, he sometimes might have remonstrated to advantage with a little less acrimony; but I don't know; for it was only at second hand that I heard of his remonstrances. However this might be, a single year had made lamentable changes in both of my lodgers. The joyful alacrity which each of them manifested at the approach of the other, and the oneness of interest they had, at first, shown in all that concerned them, were gone. Charles became moody and disputatious; his wife peevish and uncontrollable. Sometimes, for whole evenings, Mrs. Wilson was left alone to console herself with the extravagances she had, from time to time, gathered round her at such a fearful cost; and when her husband returned late at night, it was too evident that he too, in his own case, had discarded the hateful idea-'I cannot afford it.'

And thus time wore on, until at length the poor wife's constant complaint was that it was a difficult matter to obtain money from her husband, even for the purchase of common necessaries-' and with such an income too,' was the perpetual wind-up of her disconsolate harangues-with such an income as his, and such expectations as mine ;-it is too, too bad!'

It was nearly at the end of his second year of wedded life, when Charles Wilson one day returned from his office at an earlier hour than usual, and not finding his wife in their drawing room, he sought her, where she was but too often to be found-in my own sitting-room. Poor fellow! he was pale with excitement; his lip quivered, and his whole frame was agitated.

What is the matter Charles ?' was Mrs. Wilson's