The Sun.
London, England, 1826-05-22 00:00:00

for being so merry, that any one who could have seen and keard
us, must have been satisfied of the perfect good will of both par-
ties to lose no time in reaching Gretna-green.
I, of course, continued to direct my whole attention to im-
proving her partiality.for me, not merely by sharing and encou-
raging her joyous good humour, bat also by entering into all her
feelings, and by bestowing upon her such personal attentions and
caresses as, without being indelicate, or calculated to alarm her
modesty, were an unequivocal declaration of my wishes and in-
tentions. And I undoubtedly succeeded ; for before we reached
Kendal, she treated me with all the affectionate confidence and
gratifying intimacy that a cherished friend and admitted lover
could have expected from her.
At Kendal, after breakfast, I was about to undeceive her, to
explain the stratagem I bad used, in order to know her and make
myself known unto her, and to attempt, by a common course of
supplication and argument, to persuade her to marry me.
The Devil reminded me that, besides the means of persuasion
furnished by our already established intimacy, I had a very power-
ful argument to use. She had passed one whole night with me !
end I could have urged that, for her own sake, she would do well
to become my wife without delay. True it was, that I treated her
with the utmost delicacy ; and her conscience would have been
clear, though she had not married me. But then there was an
ill-natured world, which, knowing how much I had done, would
never give me credit for any degree of forbearance, and would
laugh at any giving declaration of mine, as the mere result of fear
or repentance. The argument was, indeed, at least to a gentle-
Woman, tremendously powerful; but I felt an invincible repug-
nance to using it. *A romantic fit (for which no stranger will give
me either blame or credit) came upon me ; and under its influ-
ence, I dreaded to appear a brute in the eyes of this sweet girl,
who was already so well inclined to like me, and whom, kad I
used that ungenerous argument, I should have married by a means
which promised to ensure for me her dislike instead of the tender
love that I then felt certain of inspiring her with.
Still, what other chance had I of obtaining her free, and full,
and openly expressed approval of an immediate marriage? Even
though, as I half suspected, she should not, in heart, object to be-
'coming mine, she must, for the sake of her pride, have made ob-
jeCtions which I could not have answered; and it therefore be-
hoved me' to furnish her with some excuse for yielding to my
wishes. There was no time to loose. Whether or not I should
use the ungenerous argument, I had passed one night with her.
I had gone too far to recede, if it were possible to advance by any
means short of constraint. The ungenerous argument recurred to
me continually ; but I always repelled it, and sought till my head
ached for some other means of inducing and excusing her approval
of an immediate marriage, without .destroying her good. opinion

of Inc.
At last the device struck me, which I ultimately used with we-
ceitx ; and I declare that that pretext was employed, not as the
surest and easiest means of persuading her, but as the only one
which would' enable me to marry her without, in the very act of
marriage, risking the lows of-her good opinion. •
She entered at once, and I may say,. eagerly, into what she
hougla a scheme for securing her tether's fortune. There was
no holding back, no heeiteti le " Yes," she Said, " with plea-
sure,\
for papa's sake." She eidently exulted at the idea of being
useful to her parents, and exit weed so beautifully her admirable
feelings towards them, that I vas very near clasping her in rrty
arms and betraying all. .
Here, in order to show that I am not the ruthless ravisher, and
that she is not the consummate fool, that we have been described,
1 roust proceed with consideraLle detail.
'As soon its she had expressed net only her consent, but her wish
to marry me, I said to her, " Ella, you have one other import-
ant consideration. If you ieel any repugnance towards me—if
you do riot feel that you shall be able to love me, to be very happy
in living with rue entirely henceforth, tell me so without hesita-
tion. There is no absolute necessity for our marriage. I beg of
you to reflect most carefully upon this point, and to examine your
feelings towards me. You have seen very little of me, but still
we are become as intimate as if we had known each other for
years.' I hope, and do not doubt to treat you always, for your
own sake, with more than the tenderness which your peculiar
situation has hitherto obtained from me. Bin think ; and do
not decide rashly. If you dislike or object to marry ill:, say so,
and-I will take you back to Shrigley, when your father's alfeirs
must be arranged in some other way,"
• This speech, which was dictated by a vain wish to satisfy my-
self that I had a large share in her decision, she listened to With
'he deepest attention. I would not allow her to answer erotic-
, tlieeely. A long pause (which she will perfectly recollect) ensued.
At last she slid, " If you are always as you are now, I hope to be
veil happy with pee." " But," asked I, "What do you believe?"
We bandied these words, hope and believe, till we both laughed.
I Could not expect her to make an impressive declaration of attach-
ment, I told her I wee satisfied, as her answer left every thing
to depend upon me. I thanked her, kissed her, and encircled Ler
ice my arms, and from that moment I treated her es my future
wife ; talking to her of the years of enjoyment I promised myself
in her society ; of my anxious desire to obtain her tenderest love,
and to consult her welfare and happiness by every means in my
power ; Of my tender and affectionate feeling towards her, and of
a thousand things that u mast would say to his affianced bride just
before their marriage.
In all this I was perfectly sincere. Her admirable conduct had
in it few hours (hours which circumstances had ;pun out to weeks)
made me love her more than I should probably have done after a
common acquaintance of years. Her courage and pretence of
mind ; her good sense and judgment ; her wit and acquirements ;
her most 'pude and affectionate, yet roost happy and cheerful
temper ; her helpless situation ; her evident partiality for ma ;
the very wrong, but for such partiality, I should have been inflict-
ing upon her ; all conspired to fill me with the strongest emotions
of tenderness towards her. I swore to myself and to her to renders
her the happiest of women, and to make her, as a devoted hus-
band, more than ample reparation.
• This tenderness -from rue, and the caresses to which it gave rise,
soon restored our cheerfulness. As we passed the mountains of
'Westmoreland, we projected a summer visit to the Lakes. Near
Carlisle, and on the border, it svas imposable to think and speak
of any thing but Waverley and Welter Scott, and the lest hour
of our journey to Gretna was occupied in telling stories of the
hair-breadth escapes of runaway couples, and in all but boisterous
mirth at the anticipated surprise of her Cheshire friends and ac-
quaintances when they should hear of her marriage.
When near Gretna, I found that she IWO well acquainted with
the marriage-service, having, as she told me, " often read it,
little thinking, then, that she should want it so soon."
I, therefore, in order to gratify another 'mantic whim, took
care that the ceremony should he more formal and solemn than
is either necessary or usual at Gretna. She performed her part
in it with the utmost cheerfulness; giving steadily, and with evi-
dent signs of feeling, right answers to the solemn questions of the
marriage-service ; and, when I first celled her my wife, site ern-
brace] me with as much tenderness as if I had been the long che-
rished object of her choice.
The die was now irrevocably cast; but I had still three im
portant objects in view—to keep my engagement at Calais; to
inform Mr. Turner, as soon as possible, that his daughter was
legally, and to speak as humbly as possible, not ineligibly mar-
ried ; and if possible to conceal from my wife that I had in any
degree sinned against her father,'
I therefore proceeded at once to Dover, and sent my brother
into Cheshire, with instructions to ' conceal nothing from Mr.
Turner, but to urge hint to avoid a public scandal, and above all
things, 'to join me, for his child's sake, in maintaining her good
opinion of me.
• Unfortunately, when my brother reached-Shrigley, Mr. Tee-
pee was in London ; and he was persuaded to trust an explana-
tem to a third person, who knew nothing but the bare fact of the

marriage.
On our journey to Calais, and daring our stay there, my
wife's confidence in me was without limit; her high spirits
rather increased than diminished; and our mutual attachment
seemed, as it was, sincere and unbounded. At Dover she
made the acquaintance of some friends of mine, who crossed
the Channel with us, and who will bear witness to our mutual
affection. Calais, although a wretched place, was full of novelty
and amusement to her. There we passed nearly a week, like any
other newly-married couple, and as if neither she nor I had any
reason for anxiety. Indeed, although occasionally I could not
riihnxeevntZtleeruaieufitol Etij.lcoabt---
but be anxious to learn in what manner Mr. Turner had
el-dined& girl, whose happiness, whatever might be the conduct
received my brother's commuulacanatioanms,uslinwg,asthsoe
high
-spirited
teaching, dressing, caressing,
at' I. e e family,
s octw)
almostliutwhich
pmyicierhatLerl: 1 leot
every
the
e:otenderness.
doie,:t :r,vif firstromtr thingi t
not: i
bgbmpula
gel,
et
).ch
And
rn od
inf
the no i
ny
erevolutiond . existence, y f
oin
that I was indifferent Vo)f.
passionate and romantic husband—that it
mingenxtmotfureth.e mwhomobeehanasit.t,.,rul,etg,
neglected, and always restrained school-girl, into
jai:lc:he:lf
eassituyoosertiong:ea
tisilenoeart ftllytiodowloonfdera at her having, under its happy influence
preferred the vaudeville even of a Calais theatre, to the die-away
songs of a Liverpool concert ; the hasty productions of a tenth-
rate marchand de modes to, the little co4-3tuttle bonnet and scanty
pelisse of a 1.1111=101414 aTe.lPlTlltiker • and ____ ~._
, my poor company to
that of her governess.
On the 15th March the Duyer Packet brought a friend for
whom I was waiting, and my wife's uncles.
411 the zlevigimPer accounts of our TileetiOg are mere inventions.

They went to the Hotel Meurice, where, I was told, they had
asked for me. I proceeded there, but not finding them, returned
to the Hotel Quillacq, and was then informed that ildr. Robert
Turner and Mr. Critchley, together with a lawyer, and several
Bow-street officers, were coming to arrest me on a charge of
abduction, and that Mrs. Turner was dangerously ill.
My carriage and passports were ready, and I could have
escaped to the world's eud with my wife; but I really wished
to meet her uncles ; and even if I bad not so wished, the
accounts of Mrs. Turner's situation would have fixed me to
the spot.
I sent to Messrs. Turner and Critchley, to say that I awaited
them. When they appeared, I begged for a short conversation
with them before they should see their niece. My object in
desiring to see them first, was to tell them the whole truth, and to
entreat that for her sake they would not, as she was now my wife,
give her a had opinion of me. They turned a deaf ear to all that
1 could say upon that subject, seemed convinced that the marriage
was null and void, and urged me, in consideration of Mrs.
Turner's most dangerous illness. and Mr. Turner's abject disused.
to put no obstacle to the return of their daughter to England. I
could not hesitate for an instant. I led her to them, and left her
with them some time. On my return, I found her as touch
convinced as they were that we were not married.
I then, seeing their misery, hastened to afford them all the com-
fort in my ponder, by taking them into their niece's bed-room, and
assuring them that was the first time I had ever entered it.—
Mr. R. Turner asked me if I had any objection to write what
I bad stated ? " Not the sliehtest," I replied, " if you think
that it will be a comfort to Mr. and Mrs. Turner ;" and
I immediately wrote a strong declaration to the effect of what
I had just assured them. Mr. R. Turner and Mr. Critchley
will bear witness that I did not do this under the influence
of fear, or to obtain credit or favour for myself ; but that.
seeing their conviction that uu marriage had taken place, sad
induced by their repeated assertions to entertain, myself, a
doubt upon the subject, I did it voluntarily and calmly, merely
to give the whole family some consolation in their distress.
There was then some desultory cons ersation about arresting
toe. This I knew was out of the question, but I offered, if the
lawyer would undertake that I should be hailed, to proceed imme-
diately to London. He would not give me an assurance to that
effect. I therefore declined, returning to England immediately •
but I assured Messrs. Turner -and Critchley, that I would eel,
taiuly appear there very soon, and meet manfully, though sub-
missively, the worst consequences of what I had done.
On the same day I addressed a letter to Mr. Turner, in which
I 'eagerly sought to remove from. his daughter to myself, all tbs
blame that might attach to our marriage, and repeated,' eve"
stronger terms, my previous declaration, under the same impulse
that had induced me to make it to his brothers.
The following extract front that letter will show the spirit is
which it was written :
" I am assured, Sir, by your brothers, that my marriage 's
null and void. If this be the cue, I shall feel the deepest regret'
not on my own accouut, I hope, but because reparation will there' •
by be put out of my power. If your daughter be nut, and should
never be, my wife, I have, indeed, done you an irreparable in-
jury. In that caste I should desire to give you some proof of ab-
ject repentance, if any sacrifice on my part could only tend
o to-
wards removing the evils of which I shall have been the authr
but I fear I shall be unable to do you any good by suffering tar
self. Nevertheless, I shall place myself at your disposition.--
Every facility shall be afforded by me for the pursuit of yourrea-
geance. Igo to Paris only to fulfil an indispensable engegamea, at'
"'
and shall hasten to return, to suffer cheerfully whatever pilaus
meat it may be your pleasure to inflict upon me.
"If I have not mistaken the spirit of our brothers' law •
sures, nothing but the Act of Parliament can decide whether of
not your daughter be my wife. For her sake, I certainly or'
that she is ; but if she be not, and if you decide that she doubt
shall he, then I have only to desire that every shadow of
slii
may be removed from the question ; and, in effecting this, 1 that
not only be ready, but most anxious to afford any aristanca
it may happily be in my power to offer.
hastyl true
euslt,tte Sir, ,itwritten.that I d
notouwillo n
otseek a
misinterpretby thevosupriritoiumw.Thogthis fiochr,
lam not influenced by any feeling of alarm. I faam Pffreparea
and
acnodmafonrxti,ous to meet, the consequences of what I have done,
have no hope of being able to persuade you to think favourablyustr
me. I have tried to write, in the first place, with a viewsa :La ;
at
repair
thata ntno t secondly,ge
ffgiave grievous
wtdh,ao have obtained no answer
manly frankness which, I trust, is habitual to me ;
toou'as rrs
least, if at present you know nothing but ill of nle, Yol'..aiytete to
utulthind;negrubbauteditcoanysvwniceotaiukolintni
gtghicol.tevilnleaaredinco:yofourrt isnonu, "wi.th,thses
. warrant again_ ist
Mr. Turner answered this letter by oh....4Miainai- than I baren7
me for a capital felony. Ino sta'aer b"."- °f
!wielder u'ree
lytforwinroynfgutbury
eevenryppeogn• naeansce.in leis Power." :ueerur.:"llauerintd.
E4'1413
where
have
alwaYa bpi
angi'll'ittilterto my offers CO
/from Willett I be a,-
lam impelled to make this statement, s .
purposely excluded numerous corroborative
view to my own justification, for that I know is imports,' sad
Inure) •
in order to remove from myself some of the most
have
bees
east
from nay wife the mortifying, imputations which
upon us both.
st that tbis
make her suffer for my sins. 1 will, thereon, tru
done
aid
Mr..
repeated acknowledgment of the injury that have e
wish to
Turner, and the proof which it furnishes that I have
u_
thou
defend myself, may check, for the future, the well-
reaand are stUl
It may be well to pursue um vindictively, but it is crud to
misguided zeal with which his agents bare laboured,
sod
from Ihlr. Turn
tba
striving to make his daughter a public laudgeht4in'ig'mcn°a.t.
object of everlasting curiosity and comment.
air Turner,
The above statement has been submitted to
• •
gether with the following letter : in a l"-
Sir—ln compliance with the implied pledge j love
ter which I lately addressed to the editor of the of
the honour to enclose, for your consideration,. an acco
st it sue,
circumstances attendant on my marriage, which, aucati
intention to circulate amongst my private frienain
u, Ilea
If the public statements respecting your daughter '1
not, for the most part, appeared originally in titer
Iwo
is supposed to be under the coutroul of your Watt A 7:..14 hoe
stir
treated them with complete indifference, mod nothing 1":"4
induced me to aid in making your daughter all'objeci,Laao toy
discussion ; but, as many of the ridiculous and inettu,"_7,:a, of
graphs respecting us both have been inserted with the I;cgre, j
your authority, though I feel certain without your aaw,,,tsiro
am impelled to rectify the misrepresentations which time!en It lst,
yourescg in their true colours, amongst lily r 1
daughter's amiable character and admirable wadi'•4l,o
And althoughit has been impossible for sne to de this ^to:oiss
acknowledging, in their fullest extent, my beavY sioaaedesicat
you, I have no objection to your making such tick", '"dlea,ine
public, in all details, if you should agree with me
1, oay thereby
the fake imputations cast upon your daughter
be removed. wish t°
To you, Sir, lam *mauve to repeat, that I have re to
escape from the punishment which it may be your plea"
diet upon me. • • • do°
subßmuitttlinmgum't;sealft theto our vtiemngse,anbecge,yoluhatovebentevrell'illt:lLo':4thi:l4
being alb to moderate your anger. My sole ressuas_.,,,,ey
step are, the recollection of toy engagement to lye"plel
your disposition, and an anxious deeire to focilitAr,,ol eve
ace,
means in my power, whatever course of procesaliag,..l ps
thought most conducive to your daughter's advantage. t.
the honour to be, Sir, your most obedient humble eer,s/loop,
London, May 6. EDWARD a W Al""t"

POETRY.

TIIE CHARM OF FICTION.
Oh ! tell me not that I love too well
The legends cf ancient days to tea's,
And Flame me not when I fondly dwell
On the fabled deeds of the fairy race •
When my apirit has mourn 'tl aver hopes grown 004
How dear have these tales of enchantment been;
For it s,etrk'd as they cast a mantle's fold
Alys‘::f and the al to'd world between.
Thus, when by the Wild and wintry storms
I have seen the beauty of Nature defacid,
I have g,aid with delight on the fanciful form'
By the thick hoar-frost on the casement traA
ll
I have grieved to think that their beau:ire must
Fade with the breath of the first bright hoer
Rock, forest, and silvery waterfall,
And diamond palace, and rosy-bungbower.
If those fragile pictured more brilliant are
Than the landscape beyond, which they veil Tre'"
3. :-
Oh ! how shall the tedium of life compare
ThVYuen-li,dwicttethrecame fvo4irseoo7h:be
juthltdhatelghtPleho:rkslpeoefillgruchief:f.tervYorly:::i_
I had rather live in this fancied
Than turn to the dark cold %vial& agetial