grade direction, so as to alter the otherwise precipitous descent,into one more gradual and easy. On one side arose a wall of chalky cliff-on the other a steep slope of slippery down -so Andrew guided old Dobbin slowly and carefully round the promontory's brow; and on doubling the point, an unexpected and unwelcome sight saluted him. Just beneath, on a sort of green platform half way down the declivity, had stood from times beyond the memory of man, an awful fixture, from which the eminence derived its designation of "Gallows-Hill." Round that fatal tree, and quite down the remaining descent, and ranged, ledge above ledge, up the chalky summit, the whole population of Cseemed now assembled; yet such was the stillness of the vast multitude, that no sound, indicative of the scene they were approaching, had reached the ears of Andrew or his son, till they came in full sight of it. Andrew Cleaves instinctively tightened his rein and halted abruptly, and the boy jumped up and caught hold of his father's arm, but uttered not a word, as he looked down breathlessly on the condensed living mass. At last he drew a long deep inspiration, and looked round in his father's face, the seriousness of which had darkened into unusual severity. Rather in answer to his own momentary surprise, than in reply to the boy's inquiring looks-Andrew uttered, in his deepest, lowest tone-"Ay, I see how it is 'Sizes are over, and there's an execution going forward.-So perish the guilty from the land!"

Andrew Cleaves would have been a sturdy champion for that faith, in the strength of which the valiant Bishop Don Hieronymo urged on the slaughter of the Infidels, with the shout of" Smite them, for the love of God!" And under the Jewish dispensation, he would never have spared Agag, whatever he might have done by "the best of the sheep and oxen." So now twice over yea, three several times, he fervently ejaculated" So perish the guilty

from the land!" concluding the third repetition with a sonorous "Amen!" which was softly re-echoed by the tremulous voice of the unconscious child, who, having been accustomed at home and at church always to repeat the word after the clerk or his father, now chimed in mechanically with the pious aspiration. "Amen!" quoth Andrew, and whipt on Dobbin, though rather perplexed at having to make his way through the closewedged multitude. Andrew Cleaves, though a severe, was not a cruel man: Though a zealous advocate for the extreme rigour of the law, he took no delight in witnessing the actual execution of its dread sentence; neither did he desire that his innocent companion should thus prematurely behold a sight so awful. Therefore he pushed on as fast as possible, hoping to get clear of the crowd before the arrival of the Sheriff and the mournful cavalcade, which was slowly approaching. As they passed close to the foot of the gibbet, Josiah, glanc ing upwards at the fatal tree, shrunk close to his father, as if he would have grown into his very side; and now their onward progress became more difficult-almost impossible. The fatal cart was close at hand, and the curious people thronged about it to catch a passing view of the condemned. It was in vain that Andrew urged on the old mare with voice and lash: she could not force a passage through the living wall, so he was fain to take patience and draw up to the side of the road, till the sad pageant had passed by. The crowd which had arrested his progress, impeded also the advance of the cart with its wretched burden; and during the time of its tedious approach, Andrew gathered from some of the bystanders, that the criminal, who was that day to meet an ignominious and untimely fate, was a mere youth, having barely attained his 20th year; that he had been a boy of fair promise, till seduced by bad company, and evil example, into irregular ways, and lawless practices; which, proceeding from bad to worse, had at

his short, quick, laborious respiration, broken at intervals by a convulsive sob, was distinctly audible; and transient as was Andrew's involuntary glance, the object it encountered was not one soon to be forgot ten. It was a sight, indeed, to touch a father's heart; and who could have beheld it unmoved?

The culprit, as has been said, was a mere youth. He appeared scarcely to have numbered twenty summers. A tall slim lad he was, almost effeminate in the transparent delicacy of his complexion, the profusion of fair silky hair which waved in disorder about his blue-veined temples, and the sickly whiteness of his long thin hands, one of which hung lifelessly over the side of the cart, in which he sat erect and stiffened, as if under the influence of some benumbing spell, (his eyes only wandering with a bewildered stare,) and seemingly incapable of attending to the Clergyman, who was seated by his side, occasionally reading to him a few sentences from the book of Common Prayer, and mildly exhorting him to join in some pious ejaculation, or penitential verse.

At such times, indeed, the wretched boy looked for an instant towards the book of prayer, and his lips moved, but no articulate sound proceeded from them. Those quivering lips were parched and deadly white, but a spot of vivid crimson burnt on his hollow cheek, and the expression of his large blue eyes, distended to an unnatural roundness, was exceedingly ghastly. Occasionally he looked quickly and eagerly from side to side, and in one of those hurried glances his eyes met Andrew's, and at that moment his frame was convulsed with a universal tremor, and he faintly articulated the word "Father!" Right glad was Andrew Cleaves when the cart with its miserable burden, the Sheriffs with their attendants, and the whole dismal train, having passed onward, the people thronged after them to the place of execution, and he was once more at liberty to pursue his way, which

he did with all possible expedition, urging on Dobbin with an energy he had never before ventured to exert on that steep declivity. But the sound of the agitated multitude, (that heavy, awful sound, like the swell of a distant ocean,) was still audible, and Andrew speeded to get beyond it, and to reach C-, now within the distance of a few furlongs. All this while not a word had passed between the father and son; but just before they entered the town, Andrew looked round upon his child, who had remained, as it were, glued on to his side, both his little arms fast locked round one of his father's. He was very pale, and trembled like a leaf, and when his father spoke to him, and he tried to answer, the attempt produced only a deep choking sob, that burst out, as if his very breath had been pent up for ages; one or two hysterical catches succeeded, a broken word or two, the brimming eyes overflowed, and then the little heart was relieved and lightened-Oh, would the burden of elder bosoms was as easily breathed out!-And he slackened his grasp of his father's arm, and began again to breathe and prattle freely. Andrew fairly enough improved the opportunity of that awful sight they had just witnessed, by pointing out to his young companion, the dreadful consequences of vice, and the danger of yielding to temptation, even by the most trifling deviation from moral and religious rectitude. They had just reached the entrance of Cso the lecture was necessarily concluded; But Andrew failed not, to wind up his exhortation against the early inroads of sin, by inveighing, especially, against the particular guilt of waste and extravagance, charging his son to take extraordinary care of his new clothes, not to skuff out his shoes by unnecessary activity and acts of wanton mischief, nor to squander away his pocket money in idle toys and sensual indulgences. The latter charge was particularly requisite, as Josiah took with him to school the capital of three sixpences

in silver, and was to receive the stipend of twopence every Monday morning. He was moreover enjoined to keep au exact account of his expenditure, and his father presented him for that purpose, with a long narrow ledger-looking account book, all ruled and lined with red ink, under the heads of pounds, shillings, and pence.

Andrew's last charge was abruptly put an end to, by the rumbling of his cart wheels over the stones of the High Street; and in two minutes, they had turned out of it into the Market-place, then through a long, narrow, back street, and at length drew up before a tall red house, with a bright green door, having on it a large plate of resplendent brass, whereon was engraved with sundry flourishes,

"THE COMMERCIAL ACADEMY FOR YOUNG GENTLEMEN, KEPT BY THE REV. JEREMIAH JERK."

All matters concerning the admission of Josiah had been settled, and resettled, over and over again, between the careful father and the Rev. Mr. Jerk, so the former had nothing more to do, than to consign his precious deposit into the care of that respectable pedagogue, which transfer was the affair of a moment, for Andrew had his private reasons for brief leave-taking; so setting down his son at the door of the new abode, (when the master took the hand of his little pupil with that peculiar tenderness of manner so insinuating to the breaking hearts of new comers), he laid his hand on the boy's head, and with an abrupt "God be with ye, my man!" was in his seat again, and off, and round the corner of the street, before the tears that had been swelling up into the little fellow's eyes, had burst over their lids, and down his pale, quivering face, in all that agony of grief excited by the first trial of the heart-the first pang of the first parting.

However cogent were the motives which decided Andrew Cleaves to decline the Rev. Mr. Jerk's proffer

ed hospitality, he was by no means in haste to get home that day. He had business to transact with sundry corn-factors and graziers, and various other persons in C, and altogether found-or made, so much to detain him there, though his concerns were wont to be more expeditiously transacted, that it was evening before he remounted his rumbling vehicle, and put Dobbin in motion, and quite dark before he reached the door of his own cottage. It was a cold evening too-a cold, cheerless, bleak March evening, and an east wind and a sleety rain had been driving in his face all the way home; and as he approached the cottage, its bright blazing hearth glowed invitingly through the low casement, and reflected a red cheerful light on the half-open door, and streamed forward like a clew of welcome along the narrow gravel walk to the entrance wicket. And yet Andrew was in no haste to re-enter his comfortable home-Some hearts may guess why he lingered on the cold heath-Such as have felt the pang of returning to an abode, when all is as it was-except-that the light of life is extinguished-the jewel gone-the shrine left desolate.

But at last poor old Jenny came hurrying out at the sound of the cartwheels, with her humble welcome, and wonderment at his late return, and offers of assistance in unharnessing Dobbin, that her master might the sooner come in and warm himself. Her well-meant kindness was rather gruffly declined, so she was fain to retreat within doors, and leave

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Master," as she muttered to herself, in not the best of humours, "to please himself his own way;" (the most difficult thing in the world, by the by, to some folks in some moods,) and when at last he approached the fire-side, and she ventured a cautious question as to how he left the dear child? she was snapt off with an injunction to mind her own business, and not trouble him with foolish questions. So, having set down his supper on the small table already pre

pared with its clean white cloth, and partaken of the meal in unsocial silence, she was dismissed to her own hovel, with an intimation that Andrew would himself put away the fragments of the repast, and had no need of her further services that night.

What were Andrew Cleaves's special reasons for ridding himself so impatiently of old Jenny's company that evening, and what were his cogitations after he had locked her out, and himself in, and resumed his for mer station by the hearth and the little supper table, we cannot exactly ascertain, though it is to be presumed they differed widely from those feelings of snug satisfaction, with which, after the old lady had set by him his pipe and his small glass of ale, he had been wont to lock her civilly out, and re-seat himself in his comfortable corner, with the sweet consciousness, that his child was sleeping peacefully in the little adjoining chamber, and that he should himself lie down to rest on the same bed, when the cuckoo flung open his small door in the old Dutch clock, and warned him it was time to retire.

Very different must have been his cogitations the night he dismissed poor Jenny so impatiently-for when the cuckoo warned, he still sat on unheeding, with his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the cold fireless hearth, where no spark had glimmered for the last half hour-the pipe unlit, and the small glass of ale still untasted. But when the hour actually struck, it aroused him from his comfortiess abstraction; and starting and shivering with a sensation of cold to which he had been till then insensible, he hastily swallowed down his temperate draught, and taking up the end of the candle, now flaring in its socket, and moving with the noiseless stealthy step acquited by long habits of carefulness for the slumbers of his little bed-fellow, he entered his now solitary chamber, and shut himself within it-and what were his thoughts that night, his feelings, and his prayers, may be guessed by some

hearts, but perhaps not fully conceived by any.

It would be hard to say whether the ensuing Saturday was more eagerly looked forward to byfather or son. Certain it is, that when the morning of that day arrived, Andrew was in no less haste to be gone, than when he had harnessed old Dobbin to the cart so expeditiously on the preceding Monday. But when he reached C-, it was still too early to call for his boy, for Andrew, with all his impatience, would not on any account have anticipated the precise moment when the half-holiday commenced-so he trafficked away the intervening time at his different places of call, and drew up the cart at the door of Mr. Jerk's Academy, just as the "young gentlemen" had risen from their Saturday's commons of scrap-pie and stick-jaw-certain savoury preparations not enumerated in the catalogue of that scientific professor, Monsieur Ude, or perhaps recommended by the late Dr. Kitchiner, but quite familiar to the palate of provincial schoolboys. Little Josiah, having just risen from the aforesaid banquet, came running to the door at the sound of the cart-wheels, choking with joy, and the last huge mouthful of tenacious compound. In a moment he was up in his father's arms, and hugging him so tight round the neck, that Andrew was fain to cry out,

"Well, well, my man! but you'll not throttle your old dad, will ye? Have you been a good boy, Joey ?"

Joey answered with a second hug, and the usher, who stood smirking at the door, satisfactorily certified the same; so the boy was sent to wash his greasy face and hands, and fetch his hat and little bundle of Sunday clothes, and then his father lifted him up into the cart, and turning old Dobbin, and giving him the sign of departure, a bright cherup and a propelling stamp, in a few minutes they were fairly out of C, and on their glad way to the cottage. What were the boy's acclamations of delight at the first sight of its curling