i l i. ll, i j . l.

ELOPEMENT EXTRAORDINARY. '(From the Leeds Tunes.)

Sonsw’neaa about nine months ago, a gentleman named Charles Ibook, Esq, a wealthy American merchant, retired from the toils of business, and, returning to his native country, took up his residence among his relativesy in the

beautiful village of Mirfield. The family consists of him- self, his wife, and two daughters, the eldest ofwhom is the heroine of the present eventful story. Attached to the esta-

blishment was I). young man named Benjamin Hall ; he is nearly twenty years of age, and was employed in the charac- ter of boots, occasional groom, Soc. Miss Brook is twenty- three years old, and it appears that for a considerable time a latent passion for young Benjamin had been growing within her bosom, which gradually increased with the growth of time, so that whenever he was engaged at his occupation in the yard, she placed herself at one of the windows, and never left it until he had finished and departed from her Sight. The artless and unsophisticated youth ofcourse neither knew ~nor suspected the nature of the cogitations which prompted her to watch him. On the contrary, he had often been heard to complain of her conduct, because, said be, “it seemed as ifho could not do his duty without being watched.” Find- ing that the pleasing rustic was wholly insensible to the lan- gauge of her eyes, our indomitable herome resolved to seek I private interview, and sound his heart 2——

“ And ifan infant passion struggled there, To call that passton forth.” V

This interview, and a series of others, it may be easily con- ceived, were not long delayed. Benjamin most willingly re- ciprocated, and at length the wedding Was proposed. Here, however, he hesitated, and for a time his courage failed him.

He feared, perhaps, it would be taken amiss,—tlie master might be oflended, and then he would lose his place. Such foam, it is needless to say, were speedil y removed or incli- fied, and the ultimatum was, that he consented to be hers for better and for worse. She, therefore, furnished him with the means, and on Saturday week he Went to Dewsbury and purchased the marriage license. On Sunday evening, the day ‘following, Miss Brook took an airing in the phaeton alone, her Adonis being the driver; here the license was duly conned over, and it was finally arranged that the mar- riage should take place on Tuesday the 2d instant.

Early in the morning of that memorable day, they accor- dingly arose ; Benjamin with his fair one’s assistance, pre- pared a horse and gig from his master’s stables, into which they sprang like lightning, and drove off about four o’clock by a circuitous route to the ancient village of Bristol, unper- ceived by any ofthe family or servants. They arrived at the Black Bull Inn a little before seven o’clock, where they re- mained till eight; they then proceeded to the church, and the marriage was duly solemnised by the Reverend W. Heald, the vicar. After the ceremony was over, they again returned to the Black Bull Inn. In the meantime, the timiin at Mirfield arose as usual, and seated themselves at the break- fast table, but the young lady’s place was empty;a maid was therefore dispatched to her lodging-room to fetch her, but instead of bringing Miss Brook, she brought the following note from her dressing-table :—“ Dear Momma—Pray don’t be alarmed, I am only gone to get married !” This, of course, put the whole house in a ferment, and Messrs. George Mitchell of tho Yew Tree, Fearnsides, and Fairburn,

and other neighbours, were caller] iii and sent in quest of the fugitives. Bristal, being about three miles distant, was thought to be the destination of the lovers. Mr. Mitchell arrived first, on horseback, and, proceeding to the Black Bull lnn, found them in the travellers’_ room. The bridegroom bid him “Good morning,” and observed, “ Had you been here halfan hour ago, you would have been just in time for the wedding.” “ What l” said he in arage, “is it over?” and (letting out. of the room went to the vicar to ascertain the fact. Mr. Heald assured him that it was truc, remarking, “l have onlyjust returned from the church ;” and “cannot ypu undo what you have done?” “No, sir,” observed Mr. oald, smiling, “if lcould do so I should have plenty of work !” Mr. M. then returned to the inn, where he found the other gentlemen, who had arrived in a pliaetoii. An at- tempt was then made to part those whom “ God had joined together,” by giving the bridegroom into custody on the charge of stealing the horse and gigl—This was too much for the young lady’s cquaiiimity. She then stood forth, and Baldin a tone of great anger: “No,‘Gentlemeu; Benjamin is not: my husband; he was then my father’s servant, and in taking the horse and gig he only obeyed mv commands l” Then, turning to her husband, and presenting him with her gold watch and purse, said, “ Here, take those, they might as well charge you with stealing them.” The charge then of course fell to the ground, and all parties for several hours sat in sullen and rigid silence, 'save the sighs and sobbings ofthe afflicted lady. At length Benjamin, whom We shall call Mr Hall, rose and said-lo his wife and his brother (a minor, who had been engaged to .give the lady in marriage), “Come, let pl now go home.” Upon which Mr. Fearnsides exclaimed, in a frantic manner, “ If you attempt to move, I will shoot you l”——and “ If you attempt to do that,” said Mr. Hall’s bro- ther, “I will knock you down,” accommodating his fist to the .expresswn; and again all became seated and silent. ‘ While my remained in this state, the yonng lady’s father

(who he onlyjust returned from Liverpool) arrived at the

inn. Upon his entering the room, Mrs. Hall immediately

rose, and, curtseying, seized him by the hand ; and after complaining bitterly of the conduct ofthe individuals pre- sent, stated her warm attachinth to her Benjamin. After

Mrs. Hall had done speaking, all again became silent for a

considerable time. At length souie refreshments were or-

dered, and a more conciliatory policy adopted. It was ulti- mater and mutually agreed that they should all return to

Mir-field, and see u they could not accommodate matters.

Accordingly, at night, the horses, phaeton and gig were

brought out, and the party started ofi‘forMirfield, Mr. Hall

being between two ofthe gentlemen in the phaston, and Mrs.

Hall being between the other two in the gig. They arrived

at Mirfield at ten o’clock, and the pliaeton turned up the

road leading t9 Mr. Brook’s residence; at this moment Mr.

Hall turned his headhand perceived that the gig, containing

his lady, was proceeding at a rapid rate on the road towards

Huddersfield; upon which he sprung from between his com- panions and crossed the field to overtake the gig, aiid as he approached he called out “Whoa, whoa,” and the horse, kpowmg the vows of its former indulgent keeper, imme- diately stood still, and obstinately refused to budge. The young lady’s keepers, hearing Mr. Hall approach. took her fizom the gig into an adjoining house (Mr. Shaw’s), her iii- dignant husband following, and fighting his way through the door and passage of the house. They, however, ma- naged to cause .him to be obstructed and detained while they got her through the window, screaming pite- ously, and placed her again in the gig, and drove ofi‘. In half-ap-liour My. Hall was turned out of the house, and knowmg that his Wife had recently been on a visit to Mr. Kilners, at the Carr House, Huddersfield, he therefore pro- ceeded on foot, and arrived at the Carr House a little after midnight. He repeatedly paced the front of the house and was perceived. Soon after two o’clock on Wednesday inor-

_ ningya gig, containing two men and a female, drove from

the yard, and Mr. Hall ran and seized thehorse by the reins?

two ofthe Huddersfield watchmen were called and feed id

take him off, and hold him while the gig got away. They

did so, but two other individuals coming up, and being iii-

formed of the cause of his being detained, they attacked the watchmen, a scuffle ensued, and ultimately Mr. Hall was released, when he immediately set off in the direction the ig had taken. He, however, never overtook them, ndr was

8 able to trace them through any of the toll gates, and it has since been ascertained that the female in the gig was not his wife, but only one of Mr. Kilncr’s servants, who was placed therein order to decoy him from the premises. It was also discovered that a chaise conveyed Mrs. Hall from

Huddersfield to Manchester, at midnight, on Thursday week,

when it was observed that the individuals who had charge of her bad hard work to pacify her. This circumstance reached the ears of Mr. Hall, and he started at ten o‘clock on Friday night from Mirfield, by omnibus, to Iliiddersfieid and from thence, in company with two friends, by Iriot, tci

Manchester. They then proceeded by the first train Sifsa-

turday morning to Liverpool; owing, however, to hisjnex- perience and mismanagement, he returned home on Wed-

s

nesday last, without having accomplished the object of hgs mission. An eminent solicitor, however, has now takenhis case in hand, and, if the young lady is not produced _in a few days, it is more than probable that legal proceedings will be commenced against the parties implicated in her ab- duction. We understand that the young lady possesses from fifteen thousand pounds to twenty thousand pounds, bequeathed to her by a deceased uncle in America, and in- dependently of her father. It is suppos_ed,_ by those most competent to form an opinion, that she is either in thelsle of Man, or has been shipped ofi'to America. Her relations, however, refuse to give any information, consequently it re- mains an absolute mystery.

THE NIGHT-CAB. [F ram Bentley’s Miscellany]

“Now, sir, if you. lease! cab, sir, cab!” exclaimed the driver ofNo. 370 o , in a voice that seemed the peculiar compound of gin and bad weather. I answered the man’s appeal by a nod, and No. 370 odd was presently drawn up to a close parallel with the curb-stones. Afcllow With a waddling run came bustling up, his body and arms shuffling about with an activity that seemed iiiipatieutto anticipate his legs, which were none the fleetcr for a pair ofwooden— soled shoes. He was the watermaii of the stand, and imme- diately put in his oar. ‘Come, old no, you take and mind the boss, and I’ll let the job in.” t‘ “as job,” in so far as it consisted ofthe two ladies who were with me, (my wife and sister,) was forthwith let in ; while I mounted the box ofthe cab, adjusted a woollen comforter round my neck, closed up the breast-work ofin y great-coat, and put a friend into my mouth, in the shape ofa cigar, which soon afterwards burn— ed to do me service, and finally (by the way) exhausted itself in my behalf. During these preliminaries, my pre- vious doubts would not be wholly Silent. From the stand to the farther end of the Mile-end-road, which was the place ofour destination, seemed rather a long pull under existing Circumstances. “Can Idepend upon you to take us safely ?” inquired I ofthe driver, as he settled himself at my side, and took the stunted whip and flabby reins into lllS glovcless hands. “ D’ye think I am too old, then ?” answered the man, in a tone of some little asperity. “ Nay,” said I, “ We’ll say nothing about that. But the animal and the carriage—they certainly do appear to be considerably the worsefor wear.” “Pretty well for a night-cab, sir,” replied be, With an eni- phitsis as distinctive as his foggy utterance could manage. “ There’s plenty ofgo in it yet, master, though. it ain’tjest the dandy thing,” observed the Waterman, shutting one eye, and with the other appearing to consider curiously our turn- out, whilc his hands rested upon his hips, and his‘ mouth took its own private diversion by performing the office ofa squirt. \Ve moved off at a very tardy rate, though [soon discovered that any pace at which we could go, with such a vehicle, must be a rattling one. The poor horse—a piece of half-animated frame-work, an article in osteology with a skin cover—wasa moving object in the sense of passion still more than of action. The whip could not accelerate his course; it served only to galvanise his body,—for one of his legs was so lame, that it acted as a drag upon the otlierthrec, and kept down to a very low mark the iiiiixiinum of his speed. In his efforts to get forward, his long ridgy back heaved painfully up and down, an epitome ofthe mountain in labour. His irregular deviations from right to left showed that he was what is called groggy—drunk with excess of toil. It was evident that the poor creature 'had long since gone through the whole duty of a horse; but life and labour are inseparable ideas in relation to horses; these noble ani- mals, like the followers of Wallace, must “do or die.” At length my fears with respect to the quadruped ' were some— what abated, and 1 turned a closm- attention to the charioteer. lie was a man who must have seen more than sixty winters. His spare figure was inclined to stoop; and his face, forlorn and haggard, was seamed with strong lines, all pulling down- wards, tlie way of the grave. l-Iis coarse great-coat hung closely upon him, the worst; ofmisfits, and was mended up in sundry places with patches a shade or two darker than itself, as ifto distinguish how much it had been out ofrepair. The man and the animal seemed altogether so much “ ofa piece,” that they might have been made up into a very good ceiitaur on his'last legs. “This is a hard life for you tolead,” said I, as I renewed my glance at the poor man by the fiiful glare of the gas lights, as we drove by them. “Ay, indeed, it is, sir,” replied lie. “But I expect nothing better in such a world as this. "I‘is a world for the young, and not for the old.” “The world does» indeed appear to have treated you, at least, rather slialiliily,” [observer]. “The world! —the worldl—I am sick of this blood-sucking world!" ex-

ams colonial metals.

1, and yet, in its nature, not an isolated one. App“) til: trading-concerns of this huge mart of the _world,t us‘ evIt

than London, not a few are the _instances1n which vaud— ing ambition doth o’erleap itself,” and comes down, utteihy broken by the fall. Little account is taken of those w'lo are thus prostrated,——fbr the eye ofsociety is fixed eage‘i y on the successful ; but, could the career of these rash unfor— tunatee be duly traced out in its sequel, how many Of'thell] should we discover to he slaving iii our streets, or pining in our workhonscsl 1 could not but feel much commiseration for the case before me. From the topping commercialist to the depressed cabman, What a descent in the ladder of life! I made an observation or two With a View to Sheerthe spirits of the narrator; but to little purpose. “Sir, said‘lie, “ I’ll tell you what it is; there is a law Wanted—a law, sii, for the sake ofliumaiiity; and they shouldnt long wait for it, either, if] had my way.” “Nay, observed 1, “ we have

the one you propose?” “ Why, just this, sir. Every man that comes to the dark side of fifty years, With indifferent health, and no money to fence ofl'bcggary With, and make him independent ofthe world, should be hanged, Sir, put of the way—~I say hanged I” (Here he made a stamp so impresswe upon the foothoard, that_I verily feared we should lose {be support of that uncertain piece of plank) I attenipt'et to laugh him out of such an idea .as this upriori method of sup- pressing misery by strangulation; but.I found that-on this point the poor man was possessed With a touch of mono- mania—was riding a grim hobby,-—and so Lgnve up the en- deavour. \Ve reached my house at length, and I settled with our desolate driver, slipping into his hand a couple of halflcrmvns beyond his fare.

« Tnn STATISTICS or PAl‘tLIAMENT.——Tl‘le session is . at length over, and we are happy to be enabled to give the fol- lowing statistical information regarding the events. by which the first session of conservative rule has been distinguished. The house has sat upwards oflOO days, and has smled in the same period nearly (300 white Waistcoats. Out of more than a thousand speeches, about one-half have sent their hearers to sleep; and of 200 orators, two have been pulled down by their friends to prevent their continuing to make tools of themselves. There have been nearly 30,000 “cheers,” and the word “hear” has been repeated so often, that statistical vigilance has been unable to keep pace with. it.‘ Of miscel- laneous noises there have been six, the two principal ofwhich are crowing like a cock, and brayipg like an ass; the latter having been the more natural. 0f the reports of committees the number has been large, and the result in wastepaper very considerable. Of legislative improvements, two have been partially effected, and 28 have been talked about. There have been, on an average, a thousand white neck- cloths, four hundred satin scarfs, sixteen stocks at. four-and- six, and one (Mr. Hume’s) at tivo-and-thi-ee, in mohair. The majority of the members have worn Wellington Boots; but six have been detected in Clai'ences, and one in Oxo- Mans—Punch.

In order to enjoy the present, it is necessary to be intent. on the present. To be doing one thing, and thinking of another is a very unsatisfactory mode ofspending life. Some people are always wishing themselves somewhere but where they are, or thinking of something else than what they are doing, or of some body else than to whom they are speakinc. This is the way to enjoy nothing, to do nothing well, and to please nobody. It is better to be interested with inferior persons and inferior things than to be indiffer- ent with the best. A principal cause of this indifference is the adoption of other people’s tastes instead ofthe cultiva- tion of our own; the pursuit after that for which- we are not fitted, and to which consequently we are not in reality in- clined. This folly pervades, more or less, all classes, arises from the error of building our enjoyment on the false foun- dation of the world’s opinion, instead ofbeing, with due re- gard to others, each our own world. The hunters after the world’s opinion lose themselves in diffusion of society and pursuits, and do not care for what they are doing, but for what will be thought of what they are doing; whereas com- pactness and independence are absolute essentials to happi- iiess, and compactness and independence are, precisely the two things which the generality of mankind most of all neg- lect, or even ii-eqiiently study to destroy.

INDIAN Anion—The warfare ofthe Indian army at present is no joke. This century has presented before us foes as determined and as brave as any European army that ever took the field. The Rajepoots, the Burmese and the Arabs are about as ugly customers in the way offighting as the most death-loving soldier could desire. \Vitli these the case

claimed he, with a bitterness to which the peculiar huski- ness of his voice gave a strange effect; “but it will all be over soon. I shall drop into my hole of earth, and then it will be all—” “One!” said the solemn tone ofSt. Paul’s clock, filling up the pause with singular and startling apti- tude. We graduated onwards through Cheapside, the small but close rain drifting against us continually with an insinua- tiou not to be evaded. Our situation was uncomfortable enough ; but I felt by this time my curiosity and sympathy strongly aroused towards the blighted being who sat by my side,——a specimen ofthe human structure in ruins. The declamatOry burst which bud suddenly come forth from the depths ofhis dejection showed him to be too sensitive in feelings for an ordinary cabman, to whom, in general, the habit of life supplies a pretty tough defence against the shocks of the world. 1 put a few questions to him, and the interest expressed in them presently drew fl'o'l] him an out- line of his chequered career. “ Sir,” said be, “ten years ago I was a commercial man ofthe most respectable standing—— one ofthe principal sugar-brokers in Mincii‘ig-lane. I was enabled to live at a handsome rate, kept my liouse on Clap- hain-rise, and hospitably entertained my friends—friends! that word seems to blister my tongue whilel speak it. I speculated largely for a rise in the market, and was induced to venture everything upon what seemed the strotivest of probabilities. Sugars fell—and l was undone. Mv rdinner companions—I had taken them at their own valuation, and thought them bound to me for ever—deserted me as hastily as ifl had been struck with the plague. I was then past fifty years of age, and had to begin life again, as it were at that unscasonable time. Those who had advised me to iny rniii, shunned me the most: lcould get no assistance from friends, so Itried slighter connexions‘and common acquaint- ance, persons who had never borrowed my money nor planted their legs under my table. These did what, they could for me in the way of recommendation to employment, for I was fain to turn clerk, and drudge for a maintenance ; but thepressure ofmisfortune tried me heavily. I was found fault With by my principals for being slow, very slow, and I was sometimes flatly informed that I was too old. After shifting about for scvsral years from pillar to post, from one counting-house to another, at a salary decreasinv as my one advanced, I came to a stand—still in that line, aaiid trot inbto another employ as warehouse-man in a silk-hous: in the city. I couldn’t long keep that, limvever, for I was parted with in favour ofa younger and more active man. Atlast l was obliged to take up with a ticket-porter’s situation - but I found little to carry in the way of burilien, except myself for people generally selected the stouter and younger sort be: fore me. The next thing I fell into was the place ofconducter to an omnibus; but 1 was not able to make much ofsucli a rough-and tumble sort oflife as that. Well, sir, I was unable to keep along with the bus; the time—keeper thought I was too old, and the proprietor agreed with him; and so I was taken of'I‘the step. What was I to do ? I wandered up and down