well of his country, and had he been enabled to continue in his
profession, would in all probability have risen by his merit to its
highest grades; but having served his time as midshipman, he received a
desperate wound in "cutting out," and shortly after obtained his
promotion to the rank of lieutenant for his gallant conduct. His wound
was of that severe description that he was obliged to quit the service,
and, for a time, retire upon his half pay. For many years, he looked
forward to the period when he could resume his career:--but in vain; the
wound broke out again and again; fresh splinters of the bone continually
worked out, and he was doomed to constant disappointment. At last it
healed; but years of suffering had quenched the ardour of youth, and
when he did apply for employment, his services had been forgotten. He
received a cool negative, almost consonant to his wishes: and returned,
without feeling mortified, to the cottage we have described, where he
lived a secluded yet not an unhappy life. His wants were few, and his
half pay more than adequate to supply them. A happy contemplative
indolence, arising from a well cultivated mind, feeding rather upon its
previous acquirements, than adding to its store--an equanimity of
disposition, and a habit of rigid self-command--were the characteristics
of Edward Forster; whom I shall now awaken, that we may proceed with our
narrative.

"Well, I do declare, Mr Forster, you have had a famous nap," cried Mrs
Beazeley, in a tone of voice so loud as to put an immediate end to his
slumber, as she entered his room with some hot water to assist him in
that masculine operation, the diurnal painful return of which has been
considered to be more than tantamount in suffering to the occasional
`pleasing punishment which women bear,' Although this cannot be proved
until ladies are endowed with beards, (which Heaven forfend!) or some
modern Tiresias shall appear to decide the point, the assertion appears
to be borne out, if we reason by analogy from human life; where we find
that it is not the heavy blow of sudden misfortune tripping the ladder
of our ambition and laying us prostrate, which constitutes life's
intermittent "fitful fever;" but the thousand petty vexations of hourly
occurrence.--We return to Mrs Beazeley, who continued--"Why, it's nine
o'clock, Mr Forster, and a nice fresh morning it is too, after last
night's tempest. And pray what did you hear and see, sir?" con