appointed for these? do they not slump in consecrated ground? or is it if a prons fiction, a generous oversight, in the survivors, which thus fans out men's epitaphs when dead, who, in their life time, duscharged the offices of life, perhaps, hus lamely? Their failings, with their reproaches, now sleep with them in the grave, Mun wars not with the dead. It is a trait of human nature, for which I love it. 3-CHARLES LAMB, Rosamund Gray.) ON FORMING A TASTE FOR SIMP THE simple and innocent satisfactions of mature are usually within reach; and, as they excite no valet er turbation in the pursuit, so are they enjoyed tone tumult, and relinquished without long or pe It will, then, render essential service, both o - and morality, if we can persuade men an and to contract an habitual relish for d tions of uncorrupted nature, dared to visit the churchyard, where my parents were interred. I The cottage lay in2 my way. Margaret had chosen it for that very reason, to be near the church; for the old lady was regular in her attendance on public worship. passed on, and in a moment found myself among the tombs. 3 I had been present at my father's burial, and knew the spot again; my mother's funeral I was prevented by illness from attending: a plain stone was placed over the grave, with their initials carved upon it,5 for they both occupied one grave. I prostrated myself before the spot; I kissed the earth that covered them; I contemplated with gloomy delight the time when I should mingle my dust with theirs, and kneeled, with my arms incumbent on the grave-stone, in a kind of mental prayer: for I could not speak. 6 Having performed these duties, I arose with quieter feelings, and felt leisure to attend to indifferent objects. Still I continued in the churchyard, reading the various inscriptions, and moralizing upon them with that kind of levity which will not unfrequently spring up in the mind in the midst of deep melancholy. I read of nothing but careful parents, loving husbands, and dutiful children. said jestingly, where be all the bad people buried ?8 Bad parents, bad husbands, bad children, what cemeteries are 2 sur. 3 Je continuai ma route; or, Je passai outre. I 1 and it was only after that page 89 (the present case, however, that I dared to go.' is within the rule). The abovementioned exception with regard to tout, takes place :the only adjective as tous (masc.) when tout, tho only adjective p sou- with another 4 Remember that this construction is not French. 5 'upon it,' dessus. 6 not unfrequently,' vent.-'will; see page 7 On n'y faisait ment 8 Où enterre-t-on do mauvaises gens? 10. When the adject cedes gens, it sometim being put in the mas ception to the rule appointed for these? do they not sleep in consecrated ground? or is it but a pious fiction, a generous oversight, in the survivors, which thus tricks out men's epitaphs when dead, who, in their life-time, discharged the offices of life, perhaps, but lamely? Their failings, with their reproaches, now sleep with them in the grave. Man wars not with the dead. It is a trait of human nature, for which I love it.3-(CHARLES LAMB, Rosamund Gray.) ON FORMING A TASTE FOR SIMPLE THE simple and innocent satisfactions of nature are usually within reach; and, as they excite no violent perturbation in the pursuit, so are they enjoyed without tumult, and relinquished without long or painful regret. It will, then, render essential service, both to happiness and morality, if we can persuade men in general to taste and to contract an habitual relish for the genuine satisfactions of uncorrupted nature. The young mind is always delighted with rural scenery. The earliest poetry was pastoral, and every juvenile poet of the present day delights to indulge in the luxuriance of a rural description. A taste for these pleasures will render the morning walk at least as delightful as the evening assembly. The various forms which nature assumes 5 in the vicissitudes of the seasons constitute a source of comwhich can never be exhausted. How grateful to es is the freshness of the herbage, the fragrancy of rs, and all those simple delights of the field, which have, from the earliest ages, no less justly than described is all mere fiction," exclaims y re, or n! me font l'aimer). 'On the formation of the taste Use revêtir. All that, will exclaim. . ., is RELIGION NEVER TO BE TREATED WITH LEVITY. 3 IMPRESS your minds with reverence for all that is sacred. Let no wantonness of youthful spirits, no compliance with the intemperate mirth of others, ever betray you into profane sallies. Besides the guilt which is thereby incurred, nothing gives a more odious appearance of petulance and presumption to youth, than the affectation of treating religion with levity. Instead of being an evidence of superior understanding, it discovers a pert and shallow mind; which, vain of the first smatterings of knowledge, presumes to make light of what the rest of mankind revere. At the same time you are not to imagine that, when exhorted to be religious, you are called upon to become more formal and solemn in your manners than others of the same years, or to erect yourselves into supercilious reprovers of those around you. The spirit of true religion breathes gentleness and affability. It gives a native unaffected ease to the behaviour. It is social, kind, and cheerful; far removed from that gloomy and illiberal superstition which clouds the brow, sharpens the temper, dejects the spirit, and teaches men to fit themselves for another world by neglecting the concerns of this. Let your religion, on the contrary, connect preparation for heaven with an honourable discharge of the duties of active life. Of such religion discover,9 on every proper occasion, that you are not ashamed; but avoid making any unnecessary ostentation of it before the world.- (BLAIR.) 1 Qu'il ne faut jamais traiter la religion. The conjunction que is sometimes thus used, with an ellipsis of the first member of the sentence, in the titles of chapters or sections of a book, &c., to indicate the subjects treated of therein. 2 exubérance. 3 'spirits;' entrain (or, vivacité, or, gaieté) in this sense. 4 immodérée; or, démesurée. 6 mépriser; or, se faire un jeu de. SCENE FROM THE PLAY OF “MONEY" GEORGINA, and SIR JOHN VESEY (Bart., Knight of the Guelph, F.R.S., F.S.A.), her father. Geor. And you really feel sure that poor Mr. Mordaunt has made me his heiress? Sir J. Ay, the richest heiress in England. Can you doubt it? Are you not his nearest relation? Niece by your poor mother, his own sister.1 All the time he was making this enormous fortune in India, did we ever miss sending him little reminiscences of our disinterested affection? When he was last in England, and you only so high,2 was not my house his home? 3 Didn't I get a surfeit out of complaisance to his execrable curries and pillaws? Didn't he smoke his hookah-nasty old—that is, poor dear man-in my best drawing-room? And did you ever speak without calling him your "handsome uncle?"-for the excellent creature was as vain as a Peacock,6 Geor. And so ugly,7 And Sir J. The dear deceased! Alas, he was, indeed. if, after all these marks of attachment, you are not his heiress, why then the finest feelings of our nature-the ties of blood-the principles of justice-are implanted in us in vain. Geor. Beautiful, sir. Was not that in your last speech at the Freemasons' Tavern upon the great Chimney-sweep Question? Sir J. Clever girl! 10—what a memory she has! Sit 1 'niece,' &c.; simply, his sister's daughter.' 2 not taller than that.' 3 Simply, la sienne ('his'). 4 après avoir mangé, pour lui faire plaisir, d'un de ses maudits pilaux au curry? 5 'finest.' 6 car il était glorieux (or, fier) comme un paon, le cher oncle. 7 Et laid!. ne m'en parlez pas; or, more concisely, Et d'une laideur. 8 Poor (p. 117, n. 13) dear man! Alas, yes, indeed.' 9 A merveille. 10 Comme elle est fine, cette petite fille-là! or, simply, Comme elle est fine! |