THE

STORY OF THE BACK-ROOM WINDOW.

We live in a world of busy passions. Love and hate, sorrow and joy, in a thousand shapes, are for ever near us. Death is at our threshold. Life springs up almost at our feet. Our neighbors are 'exultations, agonies!' And yet we seem to live on, ignorant of all.

We should see and know all see the miser, the spendthrift,

Could we but unroof (Asmodeus-like) the houses which, day after day, present towards us so insensible an aspect, what marvels might we not disclose! What fruitful thoughts, what radiant visions, would throng into our brain! The mystery of human conduct would lie unveiled. men truly. We should the scholar, the toiling artisan, the happy bride, and the girl deserted (like the people in the palace of Truth); all contributing their share to the unknown romance, which time is for ever weaving round us. As it is, each of them spins out his little thread, and dies, almost unknown, and soon forgotten; unless some curious accident should arise, to extend his influence into another region, or to hold his 'fame' in suspension,

twenty years after his coffin has been lowered into the dust.

It was some such chance as I have just adverted to, that threw into our knowledge certain facts, regarding a neighboring family, which else had probably slipped very quietly into oblivion. You will observe, that what I am now about to relate is almost literally, a fact.

'Some years ago, we lived, as you know, in BSquare. The room in which we usually dwelt was at the back of the house. It was spacious, and not without some pretensions to the graceful, the marble chimney-piece being distinguished by a painting of Cipriani, whilst on the ceiling lay scattered some of the conventional elegances of Angelica Kauffman. From the windows which occupied the northern extremity of the room we looked (to the left of a large oriental plane) the back of a crescent of houses upon the points of the arc receding from us. [I mention these things merely to recall to your mind our precise position.]

'In the centre of this crescent, was a house which had for a long time been untenanted. Whilst its neighbor dwellings were all busy with life and motion, this only was, for some reason, deserted. We were beginning to speculate on the causes of this accident, and to pity the unhappy landlord, whose pockets were lamenting the lack of rent, when suddenly - it was on an April morning-we perceived, for the first time, signs of change. The windows of the deserted mansion were opened, and workmen were seen bustling about its different rooms. There was an air of preparation, evidently, which announced an incoming tenant.

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"Well!" said A—, at last that unhappy man has discovered some one bold enough to take his haunted house; or perhaps, after all, he is merely endeavoring to decoy the unwary passenger! We shall see.

'A few weeks determined the question; for, after the house had been duly cleansed and beautified, and the odor of the paint suffered to fade away, various articles of furniture were brought into the rooms. These were of moderate price, and explained to us that the new tenant was a person of respectable station, but not rich. We began to feel a wish to know "what manner of man" he was. Our interest in the once empty house had received a new impulse; and we looked out, day after day, for the stranger's arrival.

'At last a young man, of lively and agreeable presence, was one morning seen giving directions to a female servant, about the disposition of the furniture. This was evidently the master of the mansion. He stayed for half an hour, and then departed; and he repeated his short visit daily. He was probably a clerk in some public office, a merchant, or professional man, whose time was required elsewhere. But, why did he not reside there? That was a problem that we strove to solve in vain. In the end, he went away altogether.

"Each morn we missed him in th' accustomed room."

'And now no one, except the solitary maid, was seen throwing open the windows in the morning to let in the vernal May; closing them at night; rubbing with a

delicate hand the new furniture; gazing at the unknown neighborhood; or sitting listlessly in the afternoon, "imparadised" in rustic dreams, she appeared to be the sole spirit of the spot. It was not the "genius loci" which we had reckoned upon. Our imaginations were not satisfied; and we looked forward confidently to another comer.

He went away; far as we could Everything was

'We were not disappointed. After the lapse of a fortnight from the young man's departure, our inquisitive eyes discovered him again. He was sitting at breakfast with a lady by his side. Pretty, young, neat, and attired from head to foot in white, she was evidently a bride. We rushed at once upon this conjecture; and certain tender manifestations, on the husband's leavetaking, confirmed us in our opinion. and she, left to herself, explored, as observe, all the rooms of the house. surveyed with a patient admiration; every drawer opened; the little book-case contemplated, and its slender rows of books all, one by one, examined. Finally, the maid was called up, some inquiries made, and the survey recommenced. The lady had now some one to encourage her open expressions of delight. We could almost fancy that we heard her words" How beautiful this is! What a comfortable sofa! What a charming screen! How kind, how good, how considerate of -!" It was altogether a pretty scene.

'Let us pass over the autumn and winter months. During a portion of this time, we ourselves were absent in the country; and when at home, we remember but little of what happened. There was little or no variety