compelled to cease from sheer exhaustion. He was a young man of most pleasing manners, and uncommon abilities, and was a constant source of wit and pleasure while travelling with us.

We soon were coasting the Welsh hills, which raised their eternal cloud-wrapped heads one above another to the skies. We saw a great deal of corn, quite green and unripe, in consequence of its being exposed to the cold sea breezes; and we were told by one of the passengers that he had known it unripe in the same situation just before Christmas. We heard the famous echo, and saw the place where the Ross Castle was wrecked. Some passengers were landed at Beaumaurice and Bangor; but we did not land till we arrived at the Menai Bridge. This is a most splendid structure, of which I need not say much, as it is so well known, and has so often been described. It is built with an immense quantity of iron, and is suspended upon stone supporters, hewn out of a neighbouring quarry. There is a partition along the middle of the bridge, dividing the two roads over it from each other. The roads are wide enough for gigs, &c. to pass each other; and the length of the bridge I ahould guess to be about 200 yards. We saw a drove of bullocks pass over, which, notwithstanding its vast size and weight, shook the bridge tremendously. You pay a penny for passing over it. Boxes and other trifles are to be purchased at the gate, formed out of the same quarry from which the stone for the bridge was hewn.

We walked out after tea, and examined the bridge

more closely, and found it had an arch above the road, where a companion played the chrenopian with a most beautiful effect, arising from the increase of sound and the beautiful echo, occasioned by the arch. An hour's walk into the neighbourhood, displayed to us some beautiful scenery, with which we were greatly delighted.

Again passing the bridge, (which quite surpassed every idea I had formed of it, whether in regard to its size, form, or the immense weight of iron, of which it is chiefly built,) we returned to the inn. Supper over we accompanied some young gentlemen whom we met at the inn, to serenade some fair ladies in the neighbourhood, which we did to the great amusement of ourselves, and the pleasure of the ladies.

At twelve o'clock we retired to rest, and walked to Bangor next morning to breakfast, a distance of between two and three miles, and a most delightful walk. We there joined a newly-married couple at breakfast, who had heen spending a week among the Welsh hills, and were returning that day to Liverpool. We saw the castle and church at Bangor, and then went on board the steamer, to return to Liverpool. A more beautiful day I never saw. The sun was laving his warm beams in the sparkling and dancing waves; every eye shone bright, every face was smiling, and every voice was gladsome. The cheering music woke the babbling echoes, and every heart seemed to bound with joy. Our new friend had monopolized the fair bride we met at breakfast to himself; and to all appearance she and her husband were fascinated by his

manners and accomplishments. Indeed, such a favorite had he become, that upon landing, they went to the bridegroom's house together.

When we observed our new friend so completely engrossed by his attention to the lady, we imitated his example, and promenaded the deck with two lovely girls, whose good opinions we so far gained, as to receive their address, and an invitation to supper. But though we had partly promised to accept it, we did not go, as the theatre had greater attractions.

I amused my companion before we arrived at Liverpool, with the following narrative, which I had gleaned from the landlord the night before :—“A young woman who called at the inn where we were stopping, the evening before, had married an old man, who was seventy years of age, though the girl herself was only eighteen. She had been induced to marry him merely for the sake of the presents, it is usual for the bridegroom to present to the bride upon the wedding day. She had been married, received the presents, left him immediately, and had not lived with him since." This custom obtains, I believe, very generally throughout Wales, and, in consequence, such cases as the above are not at all rare.

In passing up the Mersy we saw many vessels and steamers, it being a clear day, sailing and plying in all directions, for very many leagues, which, with their white sails fluttering in the wind, and the curling smoke rising to the clouds, looked exceedingly beautiful in the far off distance. We passed one fine vessel returning from India, which took the pilot on board,

She was a splendid

directly after we passed her. looking vessel, and seemed to have received little or no damage in her voyage. I gazed upon the countenances of many, and saw there joy and gladness depicted, as they anxiously and affectionately looked upon the shores of their native and beloved country. Our band struck up, “Rule Britannia,” as we passed them, to which their hearts responded, and one universal cheer broke from the lips of all. Ah! thought I, what years of banishment from their beloved homes some of those poor fellows have endured, from necessity, or for the sake of gain! What numberless hopes and prayers have passed from their hearts, relative to their native land! What sighs have been wafted across the ocean after their youthful friends, or those related to them by closer ties than those of friendship. The one they loved, or the parent who had mourned them for years! Perchance now their hopes are realized, and prayers answered for a return to their country, the lover and the parent are found upon their return, not with raptured hearts, and tears of joy, awaiting them on the pier, but, alas! consigned to the dark grave, the resting place of the broken-hearted.

These thoughts were sad, but soon hope tinged my day-dreams with brighter colours, and it was with a light and buoyant step, that I trode again the smooth polished flagstones of busy Liverpool.

No. 3.

ALBERT LEWELLIN.

"A greater VILLAIN Parthia never bred."

HORACE.

ALBERT LEWELLIN was a rich merchant, resident in Liverpool, where he lived in the most costly style, and indulged in the most expensive habits. Indeed such a libertine had he become, that he was excluded from the company of all virtuous females, save one, and she his fair cousin. Ellen Mowbray had known Albert from childhood, and she silently, in the secret chamber of her own pure bosom, cherished an affection for him, which finally proved her bane and destruction.

He was utterly unworthy of the love of so pure a being; but she had loved him before his erratic life had lost him the goodwill and friendship of the virtuous and good; and all his bad conduct could not destroy the holy principle of her early and undying love. She sighed over his misconduct, and endeavoured, by the most impassioned arguments, to reclaim him, but in vain. He continued his riotous and disorderly course of living, till his affairs were in such an embarrassed state, that it required great skill on the part of his father, and his attorney, to wind them up in such a manner, as to meet all the demands of his numerous creditors.

His father then took him home to his own residence, situate in a beautiful village in Wales, far from