counsel to his opponent, "that I can prove the contrary. Here is the catalogue of a bookseller in Paris, which contains another copy of that edition; and, if there already exist a second, we may argue on the probability of finding a third."

This species of defence seemed to have very little weight with the alcaldes on the bench; they took a short time to consider the case, and unanimously condemned Vincente to the gallows. During the pleadings of his own counsel, Vincente had hitherto preserved the greatest firmness and composure; but, when this allusion was made to the copy in Paris, he was suddenly seen to exhibit signs of inward pain and vexation; in fact, he lost all command over himself, and burst into tears.

The alcalde governador, pleased with this late symptom of repentance, said to him in a soothing tone, "At length, then, Vincente, you begin to understand the full enormity of your crime."

VINCENTE." Alas! Señor Alcalde, my error has indeed been unpardonable."

ALCALDE." It is still within your power to implore the clemency of our gracious Queen Regent."

VINCENTE. "Ah! if you could but know how miserable I feel." ALCALDE." If the justice of men is inflexible, there is another justice which is tempered with mercy, to which the truly repentant sinner may always look for pardon."

VINCENTE. " -"Ah! Señor Alcalde, then, after all, mine is not the only copy?"

THE QUEEN OF SPRING.

HAIL to the queen!—the queen of spring!
She hath journey'd here on the zephyr's wing;
Like a young coquette, she hath linger'd a while,
That we may rejoice in her song and smile!
But we know she has come, for her perfumed breath
Hath awaken'd the earth from its seeming death.
She has spoken the word, and the messenger breeze
Has whisper'd her will to the shivering trees;
Their pale green leaves they have all unfurl'd,
And the spirit of youth is abroad in the world!
Hail to the queen!--the queen of spring!
That has journey'd here on the zephyr's wing.
Let us twine her a wreath from the sunny bowers
Of the violet blue and young wild flowers,
And the valley's lily that grows beside,
And always looks like the violet's bride.

But see!-here are roses as white as snow,

They are fitting to bind on her fair young brow;
And their deep-glowing sisters, whose hue first begun
From a blush at the praises their loveliness won ;
While the sun with warm kisses, in whispers the air,
Still tell the same story, and hold the blush there!
But the roses are come !—she must hasten away,
Or the southern world will mourn for her stay!
On the zephyr's wing she is sailing now—
She has many a league to cross, ye know.

For her car she hath taken a warm bright beam,
And is fading away like a happy dream.
The sun rides high in the heavens again,

The flowers have burst from their emerald chain;
So their beautiful ruler, the Queen of Spring,
Her sceptre has pass'd to the Summer King.

CAMILLA TOULMIN.

578

THE BENEDICT CLUB.

BY RICHARD JOHNS.

THE whole town was in an uproar. Mr. Clackett had unfortunately told Mrs. Clackett that the formation of a club-house was determined on by the principal gentlemen of Rareborough; the ladies, old and young, were consequently up in arms.

"Then there's an end to domestic happiness!" said Mrs. Burnsides, with a despairing sigh, when little Mrs. Clackett gave her this distressing information. "Burnsides will never be at home. Many a rumpus we have now about his staying out so late at night. He shall not be a member, or he must choose between me and the vile club. I have money in my own right-he may take his boy, and I the girl ;"—and thus did Mrs. Burnsides settle the generally difficult question of separation and alimony in one long breath, after the before-mentioned sigh.

"You are surely not serious!" exclaimed Mrs. Green, looking so searchingly into poor Mrs. Clackett's small eyes, that they winked and watered under the infliction.

"But I am, my dear," said the circulating medium of Rareborough intelligence, who was now one stage farther on her morning's round;" and, as I told Mrs. Burnsides five minutes ago, I like the plan amazingly. What's the use of making a fuss about it? Men will be men, and like to meet each other; and Clackett will be secretary, and able to tell me everything that is going on. It will be quite delightful!"

"Men will be men, and like to meet each other," said Mrs. Green, with a suppressed sob. "I'm glad you are pleased with such arrangements; but it is not only each other they like to meet-they will make it a convenient blind-Going to the club, indeed! You'll excuse me just now, Mrs. Clackett," continued the distressed lady, drawing a cambric handkerchief from her black satin bag; "nothing has so much annoyed me for a long time."

Oh! my dear, make no stranger of me; I was this moment going, I assure you," said the town gossip. I had no idea you would have taken the thing to heart so I have several visits to pay;" and away trotted Mrs. Clackett, while her afflicted friend threw herself on a sofa, and sobbed aloud.

"Oh, Green! Green! cruel man!-is this what a loving wife deserves?"

""Tis on purpose to make assignations with that creature the Widow Pitman, that he is going to support this club."

"I dare say they will have two or three entrances to the house, and I shall never know where he is."

"The fellows dare to get up a club in Rareborough!" exclaimed Mrs. Manly Minniken with vehement surprise, when Mrs. Clackett told the news of the morning. "Of course the ladies are to have balls and suppers given to them, and archery meetings, and all that kind of thing?"

"No, my dear," said her little informant; "Clackett tells me 'tis to be conducted in London style. There is no mention of the ladies -it is only for gentlemen. Everybody is to be balloted for-one black ball to exclude; servants in white and scarlet; old Mr. Thompson's house in High Street to be taken for the present, and the committee will build immediately. No friends admitted at meal times; every one pays for his own dinner; can dine as low as fifteen pence, Mr. Clackett says, bread, and cheese, and table-ale included. As to wines, there will be a sample of each sort in the cellar, but only Marsala for general consumption."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Manly Minniken, at the top of a voice whose very piano seemed to have a forty-woman power; "and Minniken has become a member of this precious club, you say? Well, we shall see. I hope Mr. Clackett doesn't quite depend on him? Perhaps he may change his mind, you know ;" and Mrs. Manly Minniken, as if accidentally, glanced at a whip which, with her riding-hat and gloves, lay beside her.

"Oh! I'm sure you won't let Mr. Minniken disappoint my husband-I'm sure you won't over-persuade Mr. Minniken."

"But I'm not quite so sure of that as you seem to be," remarked Mrs. Manly, with a significant compression of the lip.

Mrs. Clackett would not believe her ;-it would be such a pity to oppose such a nice arrangement;-the gentlemen would bring them home all the news stirring,-and away hurried the busy little woman to Mrs. Dawdle Darnley.

"La! you don't say so, my dear!" drawled out the lackadaisical lady, when our indefatigable friend had, for the twentieth time that morning, announced the formation of the new club. "What am I to do for Harry Dawdle to drive me out, when he is at the nasty club? He shall take me with him, I do declare, if I stay at the door in the phaeton while he goes in to read the papers."

"But it is not only reading the papers, my dear," said Mrs. Clackett; "they will dine at the club much oftener than at home, -that you must make up your mind to, like a sensible woman; and then they will have billiards in the morning, and cards in the evening; and Clackett does think they will be able to get up a little hazard. It will be quite in fashionable style, I do assure you."

I

"Then Harry sha'n't go," whined out Mrs. Dawdle, with the petulance of a spoilt child. "If he does, I'll cry my eyes out. don't pretend to be a sensible woman, and he knows it. I'd rather not have your visits, Mrs. Clackett, if you come to tell me that Harry is going to belong to this club. It's all your fault and your husband's.'

my

"Bless heart!" exclaimed the astonished little newsmonger; "what have I got to do with it? Mr. Dawdle Darnley can surely act for himself-I only came to tell you what was going on; but if my company is not agreeable, I can go where it is more esteemed."

Mrs. Clackett rose from her chair in a pet; and no wonder, for Mrs. D. Darnley would not take the trouble to make an apology, but merely remarked,

"How angry you are, to be sure! La! what have I said? Dear me! won't you wait till I ring the bell, that the door may be opened for you?"

But her visitor had found her way down stairs ere the necessary

operation was performed on the bell-handle; and then Mrs. Dawdle Darnley, sauntering to the window, looked out, exclaiming,

"That tiresome Harry! I wish he would come back. How I will scold him, if he has anything to do with that horrid club!"

But Harry was a long time before he did come back, as he was just then in solemn conclave with many other magnates of the town at the George and Dragon. He was on the committee for the establishment of the Benedict Club.

"We then perfectly understand each other," said Mr. Burnsides, a large-sized, red, pattern-calico-printer, who had kindly taken the chair on that momentous occasion: he was about to wind up a brilliant harangue of twenty-three minutes' duration, by Dawdle Darnley's repeater. "Whatever occurs in this room is never to be mentioned out of it," concluded the chairman; " and having established it as a standing rule that no member, except the original founders, be admitted that cannot show just cause why he does not find his home agreeable, we will now proceed to hear the claims of proposed candidates from gentlemen of the committee who wish their friends to be nominated. The strictest impartiality will be shown; but it is necessary to make it clear to the female part of the community inimical to clubs, that no man is allowed even to be balloted for by the Benedict Club whose home is rendered comfortable."

The worthy Mr. Burnsides sat down amid much cheering, and Mr. Green got immediately on his legs (not Mr. Burnsides) to propose Mr. Harrass as a fit and proper member of the club.

"This gentleman," remarked his proposer, a tall, thin, care-worn man, "has very sound reasons for occasionally wishing not to be at home. Well knowing, as our worthy chairman has so ably explained, all that may be spoken here is under the pledge of secrecy, I have no hesitation in saying that Mrs. Harrass is jealous! If her husband venture to look at a woman, she imagines he has an eye upon her for an improper purpose. Not to put temptation in the way of Mr. Harrass, she has surrounded him with a harem of gorgons. The house-maid squints, the nursery-maid is seamed with the small-pox, and the cook is an old crooked woman; but still Mrs. Harrass is uneasy at having so many females in the house. She talks of the cook sleeping out; and has actually given the nurse warning, being distressed at her constantly cocking her eye at her master. Nor is it only the abigails who make this anxious wife fearful of losing her property in the affections of her husband. She has quarrelled or cut with every pretty woman of her acquaintance. If Mr. Harrass offers to see a lady visitor home of an evening, his spouse looks daggers at him, and then, with a painful effort at a smile, turns to the maid, wife, or widow, as the case may be, and blandly remarks, that if the expected servant does not come, their man can accompany her; but she is quite sure her dear friend will not take Mr. H. out, when he is anything but well.' In vain Mr. Harrass rashly declares that he never was better in his life, and that he should like to stretch his legs after supper; the guest is hurried away, and, oh! the wigging Mrs. Harrass gives her thoughtless husband! 'Stretch your legs, indeed, you cruel man!'-sob, sob, sob—' you like any woman better than your wife!'-sob-' you 'll break my heart, you will, by your infidelities!'—sob, sob, sob, ad infinitum. Mrs. Harrass goes into hysterics, nor will she be pacified

till her unhappy husband shouts at the pitch of his voice again and again, Do hear reason!-do be composed !-I tell you that I never will offer to see anybody home again, not even Aunt Deborah!' Such scenes are not of unfrequent occurrence in my friend's house," concluded Mr. Green, " clearly proving Mr. Harrass a fit candidate for the Benedict Club."

He was accordingly balloted for, and not a single black ball forbidding his receiving that comfort which the society of brothers in affliction must ever afford, Mr. Clackett, the secretary, entered him duly elected."

6

"As the matter is fairly in hand," said Mr. Burnsides, the worthy president, rising like the sun in a fog,-for the committee were smoking," I shall take on myself to propose Mr. Angersteam as a member of the club. This gentleman, my friends," continued Mr. Burnsides metaphorically, "has unfortunately been unable, even after several years' experience, to dovetail his disposition into the peculiarities of his wife, so as to prevent division in the cabinet. Mr. Angersteam confesses he is passionate; but then he declares his passion's soon over, if his wife does not commence a species of aggravation which perfectly infuriates him. Mr. Angersteam gets in a rage if he be kept waiting at the door; but Mrs. Angersteam will cry out to the servants, Never mind-it's only your master! Let him knock till you've taken away the supper-tray.' In comes the husband mightily incensed,- Why was I kept waiting at the door?—and where is my supper? I won't put up with it!'- You must put up without it. I have told the servants to go to bed,' remarks the lady, helping herself to a glass of wine; I was not going to keep the tray for you, when you were in no hurry to avail yourself of it until you reached the door, and thundered at the knocker. I wish your fingers had been under it!'-' Madam, you're an impertinent woman!'' Mr. Angersteam, you had better strike meyou would do it, if you were not afraid;'-and, by way of encouraging her spouse to enter into hostilities, this worthy helpmate pushes a decanter of mild port from her with a vehemence which despatches a great portion of its contents, together with some few fragments of broken glass, into Mr. Angersteam's bosom."

Mr. Burnsides considerately drew a veil over the conclusion of a scene, which he had only touched on to show that his friend, though not perfectly faultless himself, had good reason to require occasional relaxation from family jars. The ballot-box passed round, but a black ball was discovered. Mr. Burnsides, getting extra red in the face, surmised in good round terms that there must be a mistake. The candidate consequently again underwent the ordeal, and was this time duly elected; Mr. Minniken remarking, in his peculiarly gentle way, that he was afraid just now he had got into the wrong

box.

This knotty point being decided, Mr. Dawdle Darnley begged to propose his friend Sir Felix Fondle, Knight, a candidate who had a peculiar claim on the sympathy of the club, he having a wife so desperately enamoured of him, that if some asylum were not open for his accommodation, such as would be afforded in "The Benedict," the unfortunate gentleman must die the death of a lap-dog in being killed by kindness. Lady Fondle could not bear to have Sir Felix out of her sight. His accidental disappearance for an hour