extraordinary affair, and I am obliged to add, that
when, a year or two afterwards, the Admiral
died, Cornic went to Brehat. His presence
produced a magical effect, I suppose; but
this I know - that the young widow did
actually recover her reason, and was actually
married to him, after all.

KEEPING THE PEACE

Not only by the desolated city on the far
Crimean shore, and by the trembling towns
upon the Euxine and the Baltic, has long-lost
peace been welcomed; not only in the
victorious capitals has she re-assumed her olive
crown amidst the general joy, but far down
here, in fertile Devon also, we have been glad
to hear war's echo die away. In clear,
bright cider we have drank to Peace, who
blesses apple orchards, pasture lands, teeming
rivers and the loom. Our little country
town has lifted up its voice: squire and
parson, manufacturer and yeoman, have each
contributed towards banqueting the poor.
Every man has given that he could and of
what he had: the butcher of his meat, the
baker of his bread, and the brewer of his
strong ale; the schoolmaster bestowed his
green to set our tables on, the bell-ringers
dispensed free music cheerily, and the very
wind was raised—it was a voluntary subscritption
of its own—to kep the clouds off,
and to take care they did not rain.

The peace softly came upon us in the early
morning with the south wind from the sea ;
with a ripple across the river and a wave
upon the woodland and a shadow over the
meadow grass ; with the bleat of sheep and
with the low of oxen and with the song of
bird upon the budding bough ; with the rich
moist smell of the quickening earth and with
the odours of a world of flowers. Riding
down through the red Devon lanes and between
their tall fern-clad banks, with the
blue sky overhead, with ever and anon over
the frequent gateways a view of purple upland,
lsweet and far, or of the dewy pastures
and the kine close by, whereat we could not
but pull rein and gaze in joy, it seemed indeed
a morning made for peace—for the
keeping of a restoration far happier than
that the day has hitherto celebrated. The
low white farms on either hand seemed
almost uninhabited ; many a cottage with
its door wide open to the sunshine was
left entirely vacant ; the hammer lay unlifted
on the blacksmith's anvil ; the tools
in the carpenters' shops. In every little
hamlet, a humble but graceful tribute to
the day was offered,—a garland over a
cottage porch, a device of green leaves
mingled with may, and archways across the
paths composed of flower and bough. We
passed through throngs of people in their
best attire ; happy fathers with their children
astride upon their necks or clinging to
their hands ; happy mothers with infants in
their arms; happy couples, some day, perhaps,
to be similarly blessed; here and there a
spring-cart, laden with unlicensed numbers,
jogged along,—for the distance of some of our
parishioners to their metropolis is more than
a holiday walk. Sometimes a burly farmer,
whose occupation for that day was gone,
trotted by on his earth-shaking steed; Good
morrows! were as plentiful on every hand
as violets and blue-bells, and the burthens
of many a song flitted from group to group,
as the birds twitter from tree to tree. As we
reached the brow of the hill which looks
straight upon the little town, we could see
the bright flags dancing from the steeple, and
catch the unaccustomed hum and stir.
When we came upon the stone bridge that
spans the sparkling river, we read the
V R—in large tulip letters—upon the
first triumphal arch, and heard the notes of
the brass band on the school-green, as it
played God Save the Queen. The shops
were closed; but in place of that blank, dead,
shuttered stare of theirs, smiled flowers.
Upon the white-washed wall of the schoolhouse,
emptied of its little labourers, Peace
shone out glorious in War's own garb of
glittering laurel- leaf; on silken wings she
soared from window and from housetop, and
floated every way on waves of song and
music; but principally she held her state
upon the green, in company with her
continual ally, Plenty.

Eight mighty tables there were set, and on
them laid twelve hundred-weight of beef, and
such an amount of cold plum-pudding as would
be indigestible to print—enough for thirteen
hundred stomachs. As the great throng
poured in, they took their places where
they could, on forms or chairs. Each had
a parcel in a handkerchief,—a plate a-piece
and knife, and fork, and cap, or ought
to have had - for so far it was picnic—but
we saw many eating without either, and
enjoying themselves as much as though
they had silver fingers with crests at the
back of their hands and mother of pearl at
their wrists; one mighty man had brought a
child's doll's-plate with him, about the size
of a crown-piece, and inscribed "a Present
from Plymouth; doubtless it was a pledge
of affection, but it was certainly a very little
one, and the huge slice of beef had to be
doubled twice before it would confine itself
within the tiny round; his neighbour, who
was just old enough to run alone, had a
tremendous soup-plate, which he very judiciously
made use of, upon the occasion of a
trifling shower, umbrella-wise, to cover his
infant head; so many pink plates, and so
many pictorial ones (mostly of a scriptural
character), and so many mugs that had been
apparently bestowed as the reward of merit,
were probably never been seen; there was
one in particular entitled "A Good Boy's,"
which held nearly a quart and a half, and I
watched the owner (who was about sixty