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the mind, which the strife for wealth, office, political distinction, and party success, produces in this free country.

Second, The predominance given to the nervous system, by too early cultivating the mind and exciting the feelings of children.

predominance of a nervous temperament, especially
among the Roman ladies.

Cobbett attributes our superiority to the British in
the late war to the greater strength of our soldiers.
This superiority we should be careful to preserve, by
the proper physical education of both sexes when
young; and by cultivating every part of man's na-
ture, and not the mind exclusively.

Third, Neglect of physical education, or the equal and proper developement of all the organs of the body. Fourth, The general and powerful excitement of There is another, and I fear a more frequent and the female mind. Little attention given in the edufatal disease than that of insanity, caused by mental cation of females to the physiological differences of excitement; and which, judging from my own obser the sexes. Teachers seldom reflect, that in them the vation, and the records of cases in modern medical nervous system naturally predominates; that they are journals, appears to be increasing with frightful raendowed with quicker sensibility, and far more active pidity. I allude to organic diseases of the heart. imagination than men; that their emotions are more The heart is a vital organ, and its sound state is esintense, and their senses alive to more delicate impres-sential to the possession of good health. When we sions; and they therefore require great attention, lest reflect, therefore, upon the powerful influence which this exquisite sensibility, which, when properly and the feelings have upon this organ, the change from its naturally developed, constitutes the greatest excellence natural action, caused by anger, fear, love, joy, ava. of women, should either become excessive by too strong rice, ambition, envy, revenge, and all those passions excitement, or suppressed by misdirected education. and feelings that agitate civilised society, we shall If this were the proper place, it would be easy to show not wonder that the diseases of the heart have inthat efforts to make females excel in certain qualities creased in modern times. This disease has also inof mind which in men are considered most desirable, creased in all countries during times of great political to make them as capable as men, of long-continued and moral commotion. Corvisart says, "it was more attention to abstract truths, would be to act contrary frequent in the horrible times of the French revolu to the dictates of nature, as manifested in their orga- tion than in the usual calm of social life." nisation, and would tend to suppress all those finer sensibilities, which render them, in every thing that relates to sentiment and affection, far superior to men. But in general the mental peculiarities of the female mind are not regarded in education. Their intellectual powers are developed to the greatest degree, and thus their natural sensibility is changed or rendered excessive. This excessive sensibility is not always counteracted by bodily labour and exercise; for there is probably no country where women belonging to the wealthy class, exercise so little, especially in the open air, as in this. But they here participate more, perhaps, than in any other country, in the excitement of parties and sects, which, in beings whose nervous system is easily excited, is very likely to produce strong emotions; and, as I have shown, such emotions may have deplorable effects upon their offspring.

Testa, in a late work on diseases of the heart, states the same fact as regards agitated Italy. This author considers the powerful and irregular operation of the passions as the most frequent cause of organic disease of the heart. Whoever reflects upon these facts must feel the importance of cultivating a quiet state of mind in order to preserve good health. This is important at all times of life, but particularly so during childhood. It should be recollected that the early developement of the mental powers of children awakens the passions and appetites earlier than they would be, but for this premature mental cultivation, and therefore excites the heart while it is in a tender and delicate state. But not only does strong mental emotion greatly endanger children, but it is to be feared that the emotions of the mother may predispose her offspring to disease. This is the opinion of Corvisart, It is fearful to contemplate the excited state of mind Esquirol, and many other very accurate observers. which every where prevails throughout this republic, I must therefore repeat what I have elsewhere said, and the vast amount of machinery, if I may so say, that the powerful and constant excitement of the which is in operation to increase and perpetuate such minds of the females of this country, together with excitement; and the little attention that has hitherto their neglect of proper physical education, threatens been given to the dangers it may produce. The foldangerous consequences. Whoever notices their gelowing facts in reference to the city of Hartford, are neral attendance at meetings where strong feelings probably applicable to many, if not most of the towns are awakened, and perpetuated for weeks and months, of the same size in the United States. This city contains about seven thousand inhabitants. Nearly all, and witnesses their violent emotions, and knows any by very frequent meetings, especially in the night, if not all, the children of the city, commence attend- thing of the effect of excited mind and agitated feeling school as early as the age of three or four, and at-ings upon a delicate bodily organisation, must, on retend six hours each day, for several years. Nearly all attend school on the Sabbath also. Most families have a library and books for children, besides news. papers and other periodicals. There are nine large churches in the city, belonging to six different denominations, exclusive of one for coloured people. These are all well filled twice, and frequently three times, every Sunday. Besides, there are religious meetings on other days, amounting, in the various churches, to twenty or thirty during the week. There are two lyceums, or literary associations, both of which meet once a-week, and are open to all without expence. At one are weekly debates, usually on some political or historical subject; and at the other is a lecture every week, on such subject as the lecturer pleases. Both of these are well attended. Every week seven large political newspapers, advocating the interests of three different parties, are published in Hartford; and also five large religious newspapers; no two of which belong to the same sect. Several other periodicals are published here, but not weekly. In addition to the papers pub. lished in this town, men of business take one or more We have dwelt on, till we have become enamoured of those published in the larger cities, and most of the reviews and magazines of this country, and of Eng-of, the delicate mode of expressing the rise and progress of love by the gift of the tender rosebud, or the The papers published in Hartford are not circulated full-blown flower. We have pitied the despair indiat a great distance, but are intended for the popula-cated by a present of myrtle, interwoven with cypress tion of the town and vicinity; as the large villages in and poppies, and we believe that these emblems will every section have papers published in their own never cease to convey some similar sentiments, whertown. From this statement, it is evident that the inever poetry is cultivated or delicacy understood. habitants of Hartford are supplied with more mental excitement from periodical literature, than many of the largest towns in Europe; yes, even far more than is afforded to the inhabitants of Naples, Madrid, and Moscow.

land, are received here and read.*

If, therefore, constant mental excitement is ever or in any country dangerous, it is so now in this country, and cannot fail ultimately to have most disastrous consequences, demanding the attention of the patriot and the philanthropist.

It is a common and just observation, that the permanency of our republican institutions depends upon the intelligence and virtue of the people; but there may be other causes besides ignorance and vice, slowly and silently operating upon the physical man, which will as certainly lead to the ruin of the country. The decline of the Roman empire was marked by the general

On inquiry at the post-office, I learn that eighty daily, one

hundred and ten semi-weekly, and four hundred and thirty-two weekly newspapers, published in other places, are taken by the

inhabitants of Hartford. Besides, more than three hundred dollars are annually received at the same office for postage on papers and pamphlets that are received irregularly.

flection, fear, not only for the injury which such pro-
cedure must inflict upon the females themselves, but
for that which may be entailed upon the generation
time, deserving the serious consideration of all who
I believe these few hints are, at the present
have influence to perpetuate or allay the excitement
alluded to.

to come.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.

THE mystical language of flowers had its rise in those
sunny regions where the rose springs spontaneously
from its native soil, and the jasmine and the tuberose
in wild profusion, scent alike the garden and the wil
derness. The influence of the "land of the sun" has
been felt by the pilgrims from our colder climes, and
they have presented to us a pleasing fable in the lan-
age of flowers, as they have described and inter.
preted it, which our imaginations have received with
such delight, that we can hardly bring ourselves to tell
the plain unvarnished truth concerning it.

But we fear that the Turkish language of flowers, which Lady M. W. Montagu first made popular in this country, has little claim to so refined an origin as either poetry or the delicacy of passion. We had been taught to belive that it served as a means of communication between the prisoners of the harem and their friends or lovers without; but how could it be thus used when the emblematical nosegay must convey as much intelligence to the guardians and fellow-prisoners of one of the parties, as to the party herself? The truth appears to be, that the language of flowers and other inanimate objects has arisen in the idleness of the harem, from that desire of amusement and variety which the ladies shut up there, without employ ment and without culture, must feel. It answers the purpose of enigmas, the solution of which amuses the vacant hours of the Turkish ladies, and is founded on a sort of crambo or bout rimé, of which M. Hammer has given not less than an hundred specimens. From these we shall copy a few, after having explained the principle of the association on which this language is

founded.

There is neither herb, tree, fruit, nor flower, colour, gem, nor plume, which may not convey a meaning

unintelligible to such as are not initiated into its mys-
tery, but that meaning is very arbitrary, for it depends
on the sound of such words as will rhyme with the
object named. Thus,

In the Turkish, Armoude.-Wer bana bir Omoude.
In the English, Pear.-Make me not despair.
Jonquil. To cure me you only have skill.
Hair. Carry me off if you dare.

A piece of stone. Two heads on the couch of one.
A piece of clay.-Turn your old friend away.
A burning coal.-Live thou, I go to death's dark
goal.

Sometimes one word has various meanings, as various sentences rhyme with it, as

as,

Rose. You smile, but still my anguish grows.
Rose. For thee my heart with love still glows.
Sometimes a double rhyme belongs to a single word,
Tea,

You are both sun and moon to me,
Your's is the light by which I see.

Two flowers combined may form a stanza, such as,
The op'ning rosebud shows how pure,
My love for thee, thou charming maid:
The pink, alas! the proud disdain,

With which my ardent passion's paid.
The difficulty, however, of finding rhymes for such
words as orange, cotton, hyacinth, cinnamon, as we
are by no means gifted with the talent of the very in-
genious authors of the Rejected Addresses, deters us
from attempting any more of this Turkish crambo.
We shall therefore conclude with specimens of a bill-
let and its probable answer as follows:-

A fig, some plaited straws, a branch of cypress, a lock of hair, a rose, a pear, a piece of myrtle, all bound with an Aurora coloured ribbon, might be read thus, "Your chains fetter me, I am your slave, I adore you, Oh relieve me, Your love consumes me, Give me hope, Heaven grant you to me, or take my life which is a burden to me.'

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If the lady to whom such a billet is addressed be cruel, she will answer it by sending a carrot, a lock of hair, a bottle, a bean, and some silk; which would signify, "It is not so easy to give one's heart-Get hence, wretch-I shall not listen to you, but smile as you die Let me never see you more."

A kind answer might be conveyed by a violet tied with a bit of wire to a hyacinth and some jasmine. "We are of the same stature-come this evening and we will complain of fate with the bulbul-Love me well, my love will equal your's.”—Edinburgh Magazine, 1818.

SPIDERS.

THE Rev. Dr John North found out a means of entertainment which is thus described in his memoirs. It consisted in "keeping great house spiders in widehe had them safe in hold, he supplied them with mouthed glasses, such as men keep tobacco in. When crumbs of bread, which they ate rather than starve; but their regale was flies, which he sometimes caught and put to them. When their imprisonment appeared inevitable, they fell to their trade of making webs, and made large expansions, and more private recesses. It pleased him to observe the animals manage their interest in the great work of taking their prey; if it was a small fly given them, no more ceremony, but take and eat him; but if a great master flesh-fly, then to work, twenty courses round, and perhaps not come near him, for he had claws sharp as cat's; and after divers starts to and fro, a web was, with a hind-leg, dexterously clapt over two or three of his legs. After all his claws were in that manner secured, then, at a running pull, a broad web was brought over him, which bound him hand and foot, and by being fixed to the spider's tail, the fly was carried off to one of his inmost recesses, there to be feasted upon at leisure. other, and for their continual design of eating are paid Spiders, like other creatures of prey, eat one anby a continual dread of being eaten. Two old spiders will not be kept in one glass unless accidentally known to each other, or, it may be, male and female; but to better of the other, and then falls to and heartily feeds work they go, coursing about till the one hath got the upon him. They breed numerously, and the young

ones, after the example of their fathers, use the same trade. The danger, as well as fear, is common to all. There is little regard to relation or families; and for that reason, like pikes in a pond, none ever takes a prey, but he turns suddenly round lest another should take him. When the young are hatched and can run about, they lie still, waiting for advantages over the rest, and care not rashly to expose themselves. If they are disturbed, and some made to run, the whole nation

is alarmed, and many a life falls in the disorder before the wars cease; and then each that survives makes merry with his booty. Thus their numbers are reduced to a very few, who find means of retreating into castles of their own making. They cast their skins at certain periods; and their manner of doing it is remarkable: they hang themselves to the ceiling of their web, with their body downwards, and, holding themselves fast up by all their legs brought together, remain striving and pulling each leg, till it comes out of the hose, and their body is freed from its case; and then they turn and run away, leaving their old coat in their place, as we often see them hanging in cob

webs. The signal to them of this change coming on, is a dry parting of the skin upon their backs; whereupon they fall to work as was described. The doctor used to divert us with describing the course of life which his poor prisoners led."

PASSAGE OF THE BALKAN.

THE road through the mountains would certainly not have been deemed practicable for an English saddlehorse. It was simply marked over the natural rock by frequent use; no care whatever having been for one moment expended upon it, even for the purpose of removing the loose stones, or breaking down the more prominent masses. Sometimes we rode over a track polished like ice by the winter torrents, on which, when ascending, we were obliged diligently to take a zigzag course; when descending, to allow the animal now and then to slide at his discretion. On other occasions, the near foot might be seen on a pointed rock, while the off leg was about to pounce into a hole, the hinder hoofs making the best of their way through boulder stones, as if playing with them at marbles.

It seemed to me, at first, an improper hazard of life to attempt to ride over such a road as this, where the horse and rider, even going at a stealthy pace, were every moment in peril of being dashed to the ground. But the animals-though in England the whole five would not be deemed worth as many pounds-were so well accustomed to the business which they had to perform, that, be the disposition of the track what it might, they never by any chance made a false step. Their intelligence, prudence, courage, and extreme watchfulness for their own safety, as well as for that of the lives entrusted to their keeping, were wonderful. No human being could have executed their office with the uniform success which attended all their movements. So rapidly did they gain upon my confidence, that, on levels or even on declivities, I did not hesitate to follow my Tartar's example, when, with a view to recover the time lost in ascending, or to escape quickly from a pass through a dense part of the woods, whence banditti sometimes fire upon the tra veller, he absolutely galloped over these smooth or broken masses, both equally dangerous, as if he were flying for his life.

Nothing in nature can be more beautiful than the variety, especially towards the close of the autumn, of the hues that distinguish the shrubs and trees which compose the forests of Mount Hæmus. On one side, as if for the purpose of ornament, an eminence rising gradually from the torrent bed over which we rode, and extending towards the heavens, was clothed to its summit with the most magnificent shrubs, tinted with all shades of colour-light gold, russet brown, silver ash, pale green, scarlet red, orange, and the incomparable blue of the iris. Amidst these shrubs, the convolvulus and other flowering creepers suspended their festoons of bells, rivalling the delicate white of the lily or the transparent pink of the wild rose.

On the other side, the thick forests sometimes below us, sometimes threatening to march down upon us from their tremendous heights, rank long grass, ferns, and brambles, branches interlacing with each other, old trees fallen in all directions, and scathed by the lightning, rendering them impenetrable, seemed indeed peculiarly fitted to be the haunts of robbers. The assassin has only to place himself behind the trunk of a tree, wait until the wayfarer appears in view, then deliberately take his aim, and he can hardly fail to bring down his victim. Pursuit is altogether out of the question. Retaliation would be equally imprac ticable, as the murderer could not be seen. The traveller who is best armed, as in this case my Tartar was, is usually selected for the first experiment. The discharge is the signal to the whole band, who are stationed at their posts along the edge of the forest, to be ready to fire at the remaining fugitives; and then, when all danger of a contest is over, the work of plunder commences.

My Tartar and postilion were in a perfect fever during the whole time we were riding through these passes. We galloped the whole way, whether up or down the declivities. Sometimes the road was occupied by caravans, and we were obliged to mount nar. row and broken pathways, which we found or made upon its edge. But even over these tracks, where there was scarcely room for the horse's hoof, we flew with a speed which must have betrayed their terror. I do not affect to say that I was myself altogether free from alarm; but I confess that I thought a great deal less of perils from banditti than from the rocks over which I was obliged to pursue my companions.Quin's Steam Voyage down the Danube, 1835.

PETTY VEXATIONS.-It is of the utmost advantage, for our own peace, that we should learn, as much as possible, to regard the little vexations which we may, or rather must, often meet from the ill humour of others, or from the crossings and jarrings of interests opposite to our own, with the same patience with which we bear the occasional fogs of our changeful sky. The caprices of man are as little at our disposal as the varieties of the seasons. Not to lay our account with these human vexations, is a folly very similar to that of expecting in winter all the flowers and sunshine of spring, and of lamenting that the snows and sleet, which have fallen every where else, should have fallen on our little garden.-Dr Thomas Brown's Lec

tures.

SIR HUGH.

FOUNDED ON A GALLOWAY TRADITION.
By Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq.
Sir Hugh rode forth one summer eve,
To smell the thorns in flower;
When lo a dame he did perceive
Sit by a ruined tower.

Of beauty rare her raven hair

Did down her pale cheek flow;
And her eye shone clear, as stars appear,
That gleam o'er hills of snow.
She wore a kell of black velvette,
And a robe of velvette green:
Her flowing veil of silver net
Might grace the Fairy Queen.
She touch'd a lute of ivory small,
And sang with witching power-
"The grass grows in my father's hall,
The thistle in my mother's bower."
The ivy drooped around her seat,
And downcast was her head-
Sir Hugh reined in his courser fleet,
And softly this he said,

"O lady fair, why sit you there,

Close by the ruined wall?
The evening star shines bright afar,
And chill the damp dews fall."
"O well I love this twilight hour,
When all the world is mute-
And echo, from the lonely tower,
Sings sweetly to my lute.
"Alight, alight, thou gentle knight,
And let thy courser rove,
While I thine eager ears delight
With lays of melting love.

"My sire that castle overthrew,

Destroy'd the owner's name-
His wife and daughter perish'd too,
Unpitied, in the flame.

"Sad spectres oft, with dismal groans,
Glide nightly o'er the green-
And through the crevice of the stones
Pale rays of light are seen.
"And still at midnight hour, I've heard,
Again the castle burns-
Though not one ivy leaf is sear'd,

When cheerful morn returns.
"Alight, alight, faint-hearted knight;
No ghost thou need'st to fear;
For I can quell the fiends of hell

With carols loud and clear."

"O dame sans peer, I rest not here,
The daisy drinks the dew;
E'en now the bat, to spectres dear,
From yon dark turret flew !"
"But hark the thrush, in wild rose-bush,
Expecting home his mate!

O, stranger, stay-why this delay,
When lady bids you wait?

He spurr'd his steed-she struck her lute,
And sang so loud and shrill,
That echo join'd, in sweet pursuit,
From every tower and hill.
The witching sounds, in evil hour,
Arrest the warrior's way;
Ah who can conquer music's power
When Beauty chaunts the lay?
With luckless speed he left his steed,
And sat the lady by;

The nightshade shook in the Gothic nook,
And the owl was heard to cry.

The nightshade shook in the Gothic nook,
At her chords of magic power-
With fatal weight, on the hapless knight,
Rush'd down the crashing tower.
Ere dawn of day his courser true
Returned home again-

And long they sought him, young Sir Hugh,
But still they sought in vain.

His sister plants the dreary yew,

His brother plants the bay;
And the marble's rear'd for young Sir Hugh:
But his bones are far away.

The tear is on his mother's cheek;
Yet late her lamp doth burn-
Alas! those sounds that silence break
Beguile-he'll ne'er return.

Where yonder mass of ruin spreads
Its stones of mighty size,

And wallflowers wave their golden heads,
That slumb'ring warrior lies.
Oh, never more, on courser fleet
To wind his bugle horn;
No more to smell the breezes sweet
Breathe through the blooming thorn;
No more to bask-despair-rejoice-
In beauty's varying ray;
Nor list soft charms of lute and voice,
That ravish-to betray.

But still, they tell, at that lone place
The fatal form is seen-

With silver veil, and downcast face,
And robes of velvette green.
She strikes a lute of ivory small,

And sings with syren power-
"The grass grows in my father's hall,
The thistle in my mother's bower."

AFFAIRS OF HONOUR.

THE following remarks on a duel which took place several months ago in the United States, are extracted from a New York paper, called The Transcript. They treat the practice of duelling in a style at once exceed. ingly humorous and replete with common sense :— "In Sir John Falstaff's Catechism it is thus set down 'Can honour set a leg? No. Or an arm? No.''Honour hath no skill in surgery,' &c. These are truths, and no less so in our day than in those of the fat knight. Honour-or what is so called-can neither splinter a broken limb, nor 'take away the grief of a wound.' It was not wise, therefore, in Mr W—— of Virginia, and Mr C—, his competitor for Congres. sional honours, to sneak away the other day, as they did, to Bladensburg, to break one another's limbs, or bore one another's flesh with pistol bullets.

Honour, to be sure, led them on; and bonour cooked up an unpleasant dish for Mr CBut could honour set his broken arm? No. He was obliged to depend on the surgeon. Could honour allay the pain of his wound? No. He was obliged to take laudanum. What comfort, then, could he derive from his honourable meeting with Mr W-? Has he avenged any wrong received at the hands of Mr W-? No. But he got a shot in his elbow, and is none the wiser for it-saving and excepting, that if he did not know before how a pistol bullet felt, he has now some idea of it. But does he feel better now, in consequence of his elbow feeling worse? No. And if he were to fight another duel, and get shot through the gizzard, it would not better his feelings in the least. If he were before injured by Mr W. has he now got rid of any part of the injury? No. It is increased by the addition of a broken arm. Is his reputation improved by the shot? No. Is his wife, or mother, or sister, pleased with it? No. Has he derived any sort of advantage from it? No.

Then whereto has this villanous honour of his served him? Why, to get a painful wound; and that is serving him a scurvy trick. It might have killed him, and that would have been a scurvier trick still. He has very little cause, then, to be satisfied with the part which honour has made him play.

And was it wisely done of Mr W to accept the challenge? No. Has he proved himself a brave man by standing up to be shot at? No. He durst not do otherwise. He had not the moral courage to refuse. Some booby would have pointed the finger at him, and said, 'There goes a coward!' But would that have proved him a coward? No. Should the finger of a booby, then, be the index to guide a man in the way he ought to walk? No. And is he much better than a booby, who has not courage enough to disregard the opinion of a booby? No.

What, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter in relation to affairs of honour? Why, that he who sends a challenge is little better than a block head, and he who accepts one is little better than a dunce."

NIGGARDLINESS PUNISHED.-An Edinburgh publisher of the last century, notwithstanding a well-sus. tained resolution of celibacy, was famous for his courtly and gallant manners in the presence of the fair sex: he was also, however, remarkable for a ridiculous degree of niggardliness. One day, a young lady, the daughter of one of his friends, paid him a visit at his suburban villa near the coast, and was received with a profusion of his usual compliments. Taking her to see his conservatory, he exhibited with great triumph a remarkably fine pine apple, which he assured her should be hers, and, as it happened to be quite ripe, she should have it to-morrow. The lady, who knew her entertainer well, had a shrewd suspicion that his gallantry on the present occasion had carried him somewhat beyond the boundary of his intentions. She was resolved, however, not to be thus baulked of her prize; and, possessing a lively off-hand manner, she humorously insisted upon carrying home the apple herself. "Nay, my lovely young lady," said Mr. who appeared to be rather disconcerted at the turn matters were likely to take, "you shall not fatigue those delicate arms with such an unsuitable load; but you may depend upon it I shall send John (the gardener) into town with it to-morrow on purpose, along with some other nice things besides." But Miss B., wisely considering that, in such a case the proverb of "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" was peculiarly applicable, would not listen to this proposal, but con. tinued to importune him in the most playful manner imaginable, till he was at last fairly forced to yield, which, notwithstanding his scrupulous politeness, he did with the worst grace possible;-and the apple of contention was carried off in triumph.

LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by ORR & SMITH, Paternoster Row; and sold by G. BERGER, HOT well Street, Strand; BANCKS & Co., Manchester; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool; W. E. SOMERSCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAM, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PUB DON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York; J. TAYLOR, Brighton; GEORGE YOUNG, Dublin; and all other Booksellers and Newsmen in Great Britain and Ireland, Canada, Nova Scotia, and United States of America.

Complete sets of the work from its commencement, or num bers to complete sets, may at all times be obtained from the Publishers or their Agents.

Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. Printed by Bradbury and Evans (late T. Davison). Whitefriars

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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH," "PICTURE OF SCOTLAND," &c.

No. 195.

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NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS. ONE of the points of view in which human beings make the meanest and most ridiculous appearance, is in regard to their antipathies those unaccountable dislikes to various objects in nature, to various kinds of food, to various bodily and mental peculiarities in others to innumerable harmless and indifferent things, in short-which beset so many of us. Antipathies are of two kinds, some being apparently the result of native weakness, while others arise from vicious education and bad habits. James I., who, in many other respects, gave token of a constitution diseased and imperfect, though perhaps originally intended to be powerful, was full of antipathies, as appears from a catalogue of them drawn up by Ben Jonson, in reference to the various senses. To the same cause must be ascribed those affections under which so many stout and brave men are described as having laboured; affections causing them to faint at the sight of even a fictitious spider, at the intrusion of a cat, and on coming into the presence of other objects equally unimportant to the generality of men. Such examples of the manifestations of intense antipathy call for no particular remark in this place; they were better left to the physician. In the other class of instances, the affection is not so obviously organic as to forbid all hope of dispelling or abating it by means of rational remonstrance. The antipathy which we sometimes cherish in regard to other nations is not natural; it is only false sentiment imposing itself upon us as true-wickedness assuming the guise of a virtue. It is not at all fanciful to suppose that many of the so-called glories of the British arms have been achieved under the influence of no more honourable a sentiment, than a detestation of men who could so far differ from us in taste as to eat frogs. Such allusions form the burden of many of those popular ditties which were employed, not many years ago, to stir up men to the strange task of destroying each other. The French, for their part, have the same horror for our occasional indulgence in rook-pie which we have for their frog fricassees: only let us suppose a vast body of that nation marching to encounter a vast body of ours, and lashing up their rage against us by patriotic execrations of our habit of eating rook-pies! Yet that we have been guilty of a gastronomical intolerance of this kind, is undeniable. For no better reason do we encourage hatred against the individuals around us. Men have become objects of detestation to others for the most trivial personal peculiarities-for having white cheeks, for having long limbs, for a manner of walking. A difference in predilections often raises this disgraceful spirit. We hate people for being given to music, ourselves having no taste for it. We hate people for the veneration which they pay to ancient things, ourselves chancing to have little of that disposition. Mirthful, we detest people for being grave; and, grave, we detest them for being mirthful. It is no uncommon emotion of the human mind, to wish to give a laughing face a good blow in the chops.

A series of incidents strikingly illustrative of the antipathy which is apt to arise in consequence of a difference of tastes, took place a few years ago in a village in Devonshire. Mr George Dawson, a medical man, and Mr Zachariah Figgens, a retired woolcomber, chanced about the same time to settle in this village, where they took up their abode in two neat little villas, contiguous to each other, and the back grounds connected with which were only separated by an oak paling. Messrs Dawson and Figgens had come from different parts of the country, and were not acquainted; but those who knew both.

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said they were as good sort of men as might be he committed the most dreadful havock among the met with. The doctor was a little of a botanist, lily-whites, and all the other species without distincand, besides removing a number of splendid flowers tion, leaving the ground in the morning strewed with from his former residence, had employed a scien- their feathers, and one or two worried outright. Figtific gardener to plant others, so that his little do- gens beheld the scene with curved brow and gnashing main was soon all in a blow of floral beauty. Mr teeth. He thought he should shoot the dog. He Figgens had an equally costly hobby, but referring to thought he should tweak the owner's nose. But these a different order of creation. He was all for the fea- were actionable doings, and a safer and more approthered tribes. In a series of ornamental sheds rang-priate kind of retaliation at last presented itself to ing along his back ground, he afforded shelter and food to countless varieties of poultry-the brassywinged-black, the yellow-winged-red, the lily-white, the top-knot, the true Dorking, and the pheasantbreasted. His yard by day was an universal scene of scratching, cackling, fighting, crowing, and fluttering. If Messrs Dawson and Figgens had been men of much liberality of sentiment, they would have laughed at each other's harmless follies, and thought no more upon the subject. Being otherwise, they mutually conceived a deep-rooted contempt for each other, the one ridiculing the gaudy flowers, and the other the gaudy plumage, in which his neighbour delighted. Mr Dawson, moreover, kept a mastiff dog, which disturbed the other family by its barking; while Mr Figgens retained a huge Hampshire hog, equally disagreeable to the Dawsons by its grunting. The gentlemen were at one in politics and in religion, of about equal pretensions in wealth and standing, and every way qualified to become friends. But their hobbies were of different species, and on this they split.

Matters proceeded for some time smoothly enough, but they could not do so always. A coarse old ragged yarn stocking had been left by some poor creature on the road which skirted the bottom of the two gardens, and this did some heedless passenger toss over the wall into the doctor's grounds. Miss Dawson, in taking an early walk, discovered the intruding object, and, having contracted a dislike to young Figgens, concluded that it had been placed there by him. She therefore tossed it over into the poultry-yard, where it fell upon the shoulder of that young gentleman, who was employed at the moment in feeding some of his father's top-knots. He, peeping through the paling, and observing the lady, lost no time in returning the rag with his compliments, hoping that she had not missed her stocking. Miss Dawson was shocked beyond measure, and returned to the house to complain of the shameful conduct of the low people at the next house; while Master Figgens took equally good care to inform his father of the insult which he conceived had been offered to him. In the course of the forenoon, Dr Dawson took a walk in his garden, and observing the objectionable garment, tossed it once more over among the lily-whites, where it was soon after found by Mr Figgens. The latter gentleman, fully incensed at what he could not but consider as a direct insult, packed it up, and sent it by a servant, with a note to Dr Dawson, regretting that his stockings should be thrown about, but supposing that Miss Dawson had not time to mend them. Impertinent fellow! low mechanical rascal! and other less elegant vituperatives, expressed, on the part of Dr Dawson, the loathing with which he received this communication.

The gentlemen were now full of mutual ire, and observed no measure in speaking despitefully of each other. Dawson described Figgens to every body as a savage whom no degree of affluence could improve; and Figgens set down Dawson as a fellow living on the public. It is said that a breach is easily widened, and so it proved in this case, in more respects than one. The mastiff, having one night slipped his chain, broke through the paling into the poultry-yard, where

him. Having discovered the loosened paling which had admitted Pompey, he easily removed the adjoining spoke, so as to allow room for the passage of a still larger animal. He then contrived measures for allowing his hog to get loose in the night, and finding its way into the doctor's garden. Next morning, at sunrise, the tastefully disposed climbing plants, the beautifully arranged dahlias, balsams, stocks, all the pride and glory of the place, lay in one promiscuous ruin. Dawson surveyed it from a bedroom window, and, without stopping to put on more than one of the least dispensable garments, rushed down with his cane to avenge himself upon the intruder. Frantic with rage, he rushed to the encounter. The beast, as if conscious of its evil deeds, retreated before him, but yet warily kept its snout to the foe. He, less considerate, followed it into a bed of dahlias, where, madly endeavouring to thrash it, he soon prostrated almost all that remained to him of those glorious flowers. For some minutes he was allowed thus to expend his rage; but the beast at length saw fit to attempt an escape. It accordingly rushed between his legs, overturned him amidst the gaudy ruin, and, dashing through the paling, regained its own territory. The servants came to their master's assistance, and raised him in a state of exhaustion. Not having seen the hog, they concluded that he had suddenly become deranged, and inflicted all the damage upon the flowers himself. They led him carefully in, and seated him in the parlour. He would have thought it all a dream, but that he felt the bruises on his elbow and hip; and, during his countermarch from the field of battle, had seen several grinning faces at the windows next door. All this was so exceedingly grating to the doctor's feelings, that the administration of nux vomica, arsenic, and all the poisons in existence, seemed at first too small a retaliation for the outrage committed upon him. All at length settled down into the desperate resolve of commencing a lawsuit.

At Figgens's they were in an ecstacy of delight. The conflict which they had witnessed was compared to that of George and the Dragon, though the doctor, they thought, must be allowed superior courage, as he fought on foot. The adroitness of the hog they applauded to the echo. To draw on the encounter amidst the thickly planted rows of dahlias, so as to avoid the blows, while the blooms flew in every direc tion, showed a knowledge of the art of war quite sure prising; to capsize the antagonist with such dexterity, and then to escape without the loss of a bristle, was altogether a masterpiece of manoeuvring, far surpassing the powers of any dragon. Old Figgens, young Figgens, and all the servant girls, laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks.

Although the revenge which the Hampshire dragon had taken was terrible, yet, in the mind of Figgens, it did not appear more than a satisfactory set-off against his own wrongs. The loss of his top-knots was still, indeed, so deeply grudged, that, if he had been at all a fighting man, he would have certainly challenged his neighbour to single combat. Any how, the idea of a lawsuit was not calculated to give him much surprise.

It has been said that bad pens have been a cause of

errors in orthography, and thick ink of mistakes in philology. Whether these assertions be well or ill founded, the doctor's writing apparatus produced the following morsel of intelligence :

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desolation, or wafted across the bosom of the ocean, where foaming waves and gathering clouds alone compose the picture, he still finds objects of interest. In "Mr Dawson begs to inform Mr Wiggins that his the light vapour which conceals the mountain's sumgreat black hog has trespast to the amount of twenty-mit, or the majestic storm, that rolls along its heavy five pounds. If you don't pay it, you may do as you masses, threatening destruction to the world below, please. down on the nail." he equally views the effects of electricity, that wonderworking agent; and his mind is irresistibly led to the conviction of His superior intellect, who, from the same means, can produce such varied and different results!

Immediately on receiving this effusion, old Figgens went to his desk, where he sat for some time cogitating with his finger on his nose, and every now and then repeating the words twenty-five pounds. Having then mended his pen, and tried it several times, he wrote the following answer to the doctor :

"SIR-I've got your letter, and as to twenty-five pounds your dog has murdurd my fouls to inormus amount, and I will proscute you, cording to law, or any othur nusence.-Yurs, &c. Z. F."

Both parties then repaired to their respective attornies, to whom they related the whole facts, each with the colour of his own feelings, and an action and counteraction were immediately raised. Every preparation was made for hearing the case in court; expenses to the amount of nearly two hundred pounds had been incurred on both sides; the lawyers were all agog for further fees, and the public for a little amusement at the hearing of the case; when it was announced to the court that the parties, by their attornies, had agreed to withdraw a juror, each paying his own costs. Thus ended, in ridicule and severe loss, a squabble arising from the most unworthy motives, and which the least spark of good and liberal feeling on either side might have easily obviated.

So much for the antipathy which a diversity of hobbies may generate. Another species remains to be remarked upon-the antipathy, real or supposed, for certain kinds of food. I say real or supposed, because many of the dislikes of this kind are only affected, or at the most presumed by ourselves upon erroneous conviction. It is by no means uncommon to meet with individuals in company, who avow an antipathy to half of the things at table. They cannot take this; they never take that; another thing has been proscribed in their family for several generations. Whereas, if the matter were inquired into, it would probably be found that the most of the articles they repudiate were never tasted by them: the feeling has no foundation but in mere caprice.

Judging of antipathies by the standard of the smaller morals, they are to be condemned as manifestations of petulance, of affectation, and of bad breeding. Politeness, which mainly is founded on benevolence, teaches that we should avoid giving pain by our discourse to others; and is it not a great breach of this principle, when, by expressing a loathing for that which others like, we in effect call their tastes in question? By a higher moral standard antipathies are equally censurable. There is nothing truly detestable but wickedness; and every good man must wish his mind to be in such a state, that, while bestowing the sentiment where it is due, it may regard other things with the liberality of a lover of God and of his good works.

GLEANINGS FROM THE ELEMENTS.
THE ATMOSPHERE.

I love the summer calm; I love
Smooth seas below, blue skies above;
The placid lake-the unruffled stream-
The woods that rest beneath the beam;
I love the deep deep pause that reigns
At highest noon o'er hills and plains;
And own that summer's gentle rule
Is soothing, soft, and beautiful,
But winter, in its angriest form,
Hath charms" There's grandeur in the storm.”
When the winds battle with the floods,
And bow the mightiest of the woods;
When the loud thunder, erash on erash,

Follows the lightning's herald flash,

And rocks, and spires, and towers are rent, "Tis startling, but magnificent.

CARRINGTON.

THE science of Meteorology is of ancient date. In the earliest periods, as far back as history enables us to trace the operations of human intellect, we find mankind interested in atmospherical phenomena. Nor is this wonderful, if we consider the importance of noting the various changes of weather, to a people who, for the most part, led a wandering and pastoral life. The striking beauty, moreover, of many meteorie appearances, and the terrific nature of others,

combined to render the science more attractive and

It will be our task in the following papers to give a brief outline of the most important phenomena of our atmosphere; endeavouring, as much as possible, to avoid all technical terms and abstruse disquisitions, which, however necessary they may be to the perfect understanding of the science, would yet be tedious and uninteresting to the general reader.

The air or atmosphere, in which we breathe and move, and which is so necessary for the support of life, that its abstraction, even for a brief space, proves rapidly fatal, is a compressible, elastic fluid. Thin and invisible, it is yet material, and as such must cumstances; as the support of the mercury in the possess weight. This fact is proved by numerous cirbarometer-the action of pumps-and the immense force which is required to separate the two segments of a hollow sphere when the air contained in it is withdrawn. In the common leather sucker, with which boys amuse themselves by raising large stones by means of a circular piece of stiff wetted leather attached to a string, the adhesion is produced by atmospheric pressure: and it is upon the same principle that flies and other insects are enabled to walk in opposition to gravity, as upon the ceiling of a room, or the smooth polished surface of a perpendicular mirror; the feet of these animals being provided with an apparatus expressly designed to act as a “sucker.” The pressure of the atmosphere at the level of the sea has been estimated as equal to fifteen pounds upon every square inch of surface; this is equivalent to the pressure of a column of mercury of about thirty inches, and one of water of about thirty-four feet. But this is not constantly uniform, the variations being most frequent in countries situated at a distance from the equator.

The compressibility and elasticity of this fluid are well exemplified in the air-gun, where a quantity of air is forced into the reservoir by means of a condensing syringe, a part of which being set free at each discharge, exerts such force in expanding as to communicate a velocity to the balls equal to or even greater than that produced by gunpowder. The whole weight of the atmosphere is estimated at 100,000,000,000,000,000

tons.

The atmosphere, however, does not pervade all space. The astronomical observations of Dr Wollaston and Captain Kater have led them to believe that there is no solar atmosphere, and the researches of others would seem to justify the same inference with respect to the planet Jupiter. If these conclusions be correct, it follows that our atmosphere is confined to the earth; accordingly, many attempts have been made to discover its extent. From the most accurate observations upon the number of degrees below the horizon to which the sun sinks before twilight ends, it would appear that its height is between fortyfive and fifty miles. It seems to be flattened at the poles, the ratio of its polar to its equatorial diameter

being as 2 to 3.

The variations of atmospherical pressure produce many striking effects. When it is increased, the air becomes bright and clear-the clouds float only in its higher regions all nature smiles in gladness and man experiences that buoyancy of spirits which sheds a charm of pleasure around every object. Far different are the effects of an opposite state: the heavy clouds sink down, almost to the surface of the earth, and roll along in sombre masses-mists, fogs, and damp prevail a universal and depressing gloom is felt, and drives us to the shelter of our dwellings. The rapid falling of the barometer, indicating a great and sudden rarifaction of the air, prognosticates with

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face of the earth. The reason of this is founded upon the general law, according to which bodies, in as suming a denser form, give out a part of their latent heat; while, in expanding, they acquire a greater cape city for caloric, and consequently produce cold, by abstracting the heat of neighbouring objects. The air, then, which is at the surface of the earth, becoming heate 1, ascends by reason of its rarifaction, and expanding as the incumbent pressure is diminished, produces tha: cold which is always experienced in elevated regions. At the same time, the cold air which has descende i from above to supply its place becomes condensed by th 3 increased pressure, and consequently produces warmth. The rate of diminution of temperature, as we ascend from the earth, is 1° of Fahrenheit's thermometer for 352 feet.

The effects of these different temperatures, both upon the animal and vegetable world, may be well studied in those mountainous regions of the tropics, which, as we advance to their summits, exhibit, in miniature, a picture of all the climates of our globe. At the foot of these elevations, the ground is covered with all the luxuriant clothing peculiar to warm latitudes. Vegetation here reaches its greatest perfection: sandal-wood, palms, ebony, and gigantic ferns, mingled the air is filled with the odour of fragrant spices with the bright flowers of the scarlet-coloured cacti, raise their spreading foliage to the burning sun, affording beneath a cool shelter to the elephant, the lion, tiger, and other mighty beasts of prey; while the varied tribes of serpents and lizards creep silently among the grass and the air is filled with gorgeous birds and glittering insects of every size and description. Ascending a little higher, the scene becomes changed: citrons, olives, and orange-trees abound.

Around, above, in blended beauty shine

The graceful poplar, and the clasping vine;
Here the young violet, in her chalice blue,
Bears to the lip of morn her votive dew;
Here the green laurel springs to life the while,
Beneath her own Apollo's golden smile.
the Indian fig; while fields of corn wave gently in
Here, too, flourish the date-tree, the plantain, and
the cooling breeze, and transport the beholder's fancy
to the rich plains of fertile Europe. At a still greater
elevation, chestnuts, oaks, and other forest trees, wave
their majestic heads, and squirrels skip gaily among
the branches. Above, the sides of the mountains are
clothed with the dark foliage of the hardy pines;
then succeed brooms and grasses; while the various
species of lichen terminate all traces of vegetation.
Beyond this dwells perpetual winter, and everlasting
silence reigns within

These palaces of nature, whose vast walls
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,
And throned Eternity in icy halls

Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
The avalanche--the thunderbolt of snow!
dified by the nature and products of the soil. Bar-
The temperature of the atmosphere is also greatly mo-
ren sands increase the warmth, by reflecting and
radiating the heat received from the sun; while ve-
getation and rivers cool the air, by the evaporation
it follows, that the severity of the cold of any country
which is constantly going on at their surface. Hence
may be alleviated, by draining the ground, and re-
moving the forests to a certain extent. Unlimited
destruction of the woods, in many places, has proved
most injurious; such has particularly been observed
in Barbadoes, and many others of the West Indian
islands.

It is frequently of great importance to ascertain the mean temperature of any place or district. This is easily done by the following simple method:-For a and divide by 2; or, to be more accurate, add toge day, add together the greatest observed cold and heat, ther the results of observations made every hour, and For months and years a similar plan divide by 24. is adopted. The mean temperature at the equator is 51° Fah.; at the poles, 5° or 6° Fah. The air itself is colourless, the azure tint generally observed in the sky being most probably caused by the aqueous vapour floating in it; accordingly, at great elevations, where little or no water exists, it perfectly transparent; but it is more particularly so appears almost black. In no part is the atmosphere at the equator, and at great elevations. It is calcu lated that the sun's light, when he is at the horizon, is diminished one thousand three hundred times before it reaches the surface of the earth, by reason of the great column of air which it has to traverse. The air consists essentially of two gases, oxygen and nitrogen, in the proportion of one of the former to four of the latter. I shall not here enter into the discussion, as to whether these gases are in a state of chemical combination, or merely mechanical union; is the most probable opinion, and is the one adopted by most philosophers of the present day. Besides these two gases, it also contains about one part in a thousand of carbonic acid (a compound of oxygen and The temperature of the atmosphere varies according carbon), with a variable quantity of water and other to latitude, elevation, season of the year, and time of extraneous matters. It is a remarkable fact, that the the day. It is greatest in the tropics, and at the sur-composition of the atmosphere is the same at very

engaging. Accordingly, in all ages of the world, philosophers have reasoned, wondered, and disputed, concerning the various meteorological facts which every day, nay, every hour, unfolded to their view. The study of meteorology, even as an amusement, appears to possess some advantages over the allied certainty a violent storm-one of those fierce convul- but shall content myself with stating, that the latter

sciences. The botanist and the zoologist, to carry on their researches, must confine themselves to habitable Countries, where vegetation and life abound. But the student of this department of nature is dependent upon no such adventitious circumstances. Seated on a barren and rugged steep, where all around seems

sions of the elements, which, happily unknown in
our more favoured climes, spread swift destruction
through the fertile regions of the south.

great elevations, and below the level of the sea, as at
the earth's surface.
Hitherto we have examined the atmosphere only
when at rest; no less wonderful and interesting are
its effects, when, put in motion, it gives rise to the
phenomena of winds. The consideration of this sub-
ject, however, must be deferred to a future paper.

MADAME DELCOURT,

A TALE OF FRANCE.

Ar the extremity of a shrubbery of sweet bay, that terminated the bright lawn of an inn, or auberge, in the hamlet of Andevin, arrondissement of the Charolle, was a little bower so closely shadowed by the clustering shrub, as not to admit a single sunbeam, and so cunningly contrived that a common observer

would not easily have discovered its entrance; and in that same little bower were seated, in secret consultation, Antoinette and Lily St Aubert, the two nieces of Madame Delcourt, the proprietor of the beforenamed inn.

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· Ah, Monsieur Claremont,' said Antoinette, overtaking him from the interior of the house as he stepped on the lawn, my aunt wants to see you particularly; she told me to tell you so.' 'Indeed!' exclaimed he, 'then I must be off to her. I think I know what she wants me for, at least I hope I do. Is she dressed already?' 'Oh yes, quite,' answered Antoinette. 'By the way, is Monsieur Le Grande come yet?' 'Not yet, I'm sorry to say, and that makes me rather uneasy, though that he will arrive, I have not the least doubt, as he says so in his letter; and as we have never yet seen each other, I'm sure he will not neglect this opportunity of becoming acquainted with me. But where did you say Madame Delcourt was?' 'I'll take you to her; this way, if you please.' And leav ing Antoinette to conduct Monsieur Claremont to his future daughter-in-law, and Baptiste to make a further assurance of his eternal love to Lily (for which performances the reader is requested to conceive a lapse of ten minutes), we will station ourselves at the entrance of the auberge, where a carriage and four has just stopped.

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wise served to diminish her good looks. A rich, and apparently quite new, white satin petticoat, trimmed with lace, and fitting closely to her well-made figure, was short enough to leave exposed to view an extremely small foot and well-turned ancle; while a boddice, trimmed at all points with lace, although, perhaps, if too strictly scrutinised, it might be deemed as cut somewhat low, still seemed so studiously arranged, as only to leave exposed a finely curved throat. On her head was placed a fillet of real and choice flowers, which she was carefully arranging at the time of Antoinette's entrance, whom she greeted with a "How is this, pray?' and turning sharply round as she spoke, continued, 'Why were you not here an hour ago? How is it, I say?' 'I'm sure, aunt, I don't know.' Don't know! the same excuse, hey? that eternal "don't know, I'm sure;" come, fasten me this band behind.' 'Yes, dear aunt there,' she continued, as she completed the task allotted to her; upon my word, you look particularly well to-day.' " Do you think so?' asked Madame Delcourt, whose anger was somewhat softened by this evident show of 'Well, well, Lily, I will tease you no more about taste on the part of her niece. 'Indeed I do; that 'Hallo!somebody-house here! house!' loudly it, though in fact it is no longer necessary; for al- tasteful head-dress makes you appear at least a full called the late tenant of the carriage, as he stepped though you do not deign to answer me by word of twenty years younger.' Foolish girl!' exclaimed from it into the house. Mind you give them a full mouth with sincerity, those tell-tale blushes cannot Madame Delcourt, though in a tone of unquestionable feed, but don't take the harness off, he continued, deceive me.' 'Come, dear sister, I will be frank with self-satisfaction. But, in spite of that, do you know, addressing one of the postilions, who was preparing you, and to be so, I must premise by confessing that aunt, I can hardly bring myself to believe that you to lead the horses into the stable. Ay, never fear I do love Baptiste Claremont dearly-that is, I have are really going to marry Baptiste Claremont, although for that, sir,' was the man's answer; and then turndone so hitherto; but that must end. If he marries you are even now dressing for the occasion,' Minding to two superbly liveried lacqueys, who had asMadame Delcourt from choice (and choice, I fear your own business, if you please.' 'But you know, sisted him to alight from the carriage, he continued I mean, I think-must be his only motive), he is un- aunt, you are older than he is by twenty-four years.' And you had better go in, and get your dinners.' worthy of my love; nor would it be correct. No, no Hold your saucy tongue-do,' replied her aunt; Thank ye, sir,' said they, touching their hats, and -I ought not, I will not. But if he marries my aunt 'what is it to you or to any one indeed-whom went and did his bidding. Have I the honour of adfrom necessity, or By the way, I know Bap- marry, for I know it's the talk of the whole hamlet dressing Mons. Le Grande ?' said Antoinette, as she tiste has something of importance to communicate to though, forsooth, it's just the same to me, for the mat- advanced, and held open the door for the admission of ter of that. you; he told me so this morning,' observed her sister. I am a widow-in prosperous circum- the stranger. Yes, my dear, yes,' he replied, and a I shall not listen to him,' replied the other in a de- stances and I will marry whom I like: what does it slight shade of thought passed over his features: he jected tone. Now that is wrong, Lily-very wrong-signify if Baptiste is a little younger than myself?' might have been thinking of his carriage, or horses, very absurd indeed.' "There our opinion differs, AnA little younger!' thought Antoinette. However, or what not. However (whatever might have been toinette.' 'Well, well, whatever opinion is right, or it matters not what people think,' continued the bride the cause of it), the cloud passed away, as with a whichever opinion is wrong (and I think my own elect; 'I have settled every thing with his father; and smiling countenance he said, I am right, I fancyright), I have a scheme in my brain which I call a in another hour or two, when Monsieur Le Grande this is Madame Delcourt's inn ?' The speaker was a very hopeful one. You know François Claremont has arrives, we shall sign the settlement, and be married. short, fat, good-natured man, of between fifty and begged his brother-in-law, Monsieur Le Grand, to be It would, indeed, be strange, if after a widowhood of sixty years of age; he was dressed in a light green present at his son's marriage with my aunt, and sign twenty years, I might not be permitted 'How, frock coat, nankeen trousers, shoes with silver buckles, the settlement; now don't cry about it, Lily!' aunt! is it twenty years?'Ay, full that. You were and silk stockings; a broad black ribband was fas'Well?' said she, sobbing. And he's expected down not yet born when my poor dear husband Philip left tened round his neck, over which fell his long shirthere to-day,' continued Antoinette. Well?' again me. Ah! that was a sad pity, but he would go to collar, giving him a combined appearance of respectauttered her sister. Now, I've been thinking that he sea, and the consequence was, that he was shipwrecked, bility, comfort, and coolness. Oh yes, sir,' replied can't take any very great interest in the matter, inasand perished with all the crew. Heigho!-I wish Antoinette, in answer to the question of the respectmuch as he has never yet seen his brother-in-law, Monsieur Le Grande was come.' 'Oh! you mean able, comfortable, and cool-looking gentleman. Ay, Monsieur Claremont so, as they say he is a very good the gentleman from Paris, who they say is so rich, I thought I was right,' he replied. I'll run and tell natured man, I've made up my mind, when he does and whom Monsieur Claremont, although his brother- Monsieur Claremont you're come,' said Antoinette, come, to go boldly up to him state the facts of the in-law, has not yet seen.' 'The same, my love. He's and she made a movement towards the door. 'Run case and beg his intercession. What say you?' an upholsterer-nothing more he fell in love with and tell whom?' 'Monsieur Claremont!' replied 'Indeed I don't know.' 'Oh, you're really quite Monsieur Claremont's sister; and though she hadn't Antoinette. 'Ah!-no-not just yet-wait a bitstupid; but come along, we must go up to the house a sous, he married her, But come-I am ready,' con- tell me what's your name?' Antoinette St Aubert, 'Antoinette St Aubert, hey?-a very pretty -come along, I say and do dry your eyes. Saying tinued Madame Delcourt, as, repressing with the back sir.' this, she parted the boughs of the shrub with one of her right hand a forward black curl, she took a pro- name that, Antoinette." 'I'm very glad you think hand, while with the other she dragged, rather than longed, final, and satisfactory look at herself in the so, sir.' Are you?' 'Indeed I am; because led, her sister through the aperture, and they both glass. Do you stay below, Antoinette, and if any trastood upon the lawn facing the house. veller arrives, attend to him.' 'Yes, dear aunt.' By the way,' continued Madame Delcourt, as they left the room, should you see Monsieur Claremont, tell him I wish to see him particularly, will ye?' Certainly, dear aunt,' replied she. And, leaving Madame Delcourt and her niece Antoinette to pursue their respective avocations, we will return to Lily, whom we left standing on the lawn with Madame Delcourt's bridegroom, preparing to answer the question he had put to her and,

'Oh see!' exclaimed Lily, releasing her arm from her sister's, there is Baptiste. For heaven's sake let me go another way. I would rather die than meet him now.' 'Stuff and nonsense. Indeed you shall not go another way. Now just hold up your head, and don't let him see you've been crying, or let him think you care a pin's point for him. Pretend to pick that daisy behind you, and wipe your eyes, girl. It is so foolish and mind-bush-here he comes. Well, uncle uncle that is to be, I mean-how do you do? You don't look over well. Hold your head higher, child.' This was said, as the play-books have it,

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How are you this morning, Lily?' said Baptiste Claremont, advancing with his extended hand towards her as he spoke, without appearing to notice her sister; what! won't you shake hands with me? Oh, you won't speak to me, won't you?' said the slighted Antoinette; very well, sir-I wish you a very good morning; I shall go and seek some one who will answer when I speak to them, for I hate to have all the conversation to myself." Antoinette,' exclaimed Lily, endeavouring to detain her sister-Indeed, Lily, I must go. You know I shall get a horrid scolding as it is, for my aunt has been waiting for me this half hour to help her to dress so good bye. Good morning, dear uncle,' and away bounded the beautiful girl towards the house.

Lily, Lily, will you not even speak to me?' said Baptiste. Pay do not turn away,' he continued, at the same time gently detaining her as she was preparing to fallow her sister. "Is this kind, or even just ** But leaving for a while his question unanswered, we will follow Antoinette into the dressing room of her aunt (on the second-floor back of the afore said inn), who was standing before a no mean-sized looking-glass, complacently contemplating her figure and effect. Although Madame Delcourt had arrived at what ladies term certain age,' and which they interpret as the shady side of forty,' still there was in her manner that peculiarly French light-heartedness, which made her appear a good ten years younger than she really was; and indeed her dress, on this, the morning of her intended second marriage, in no

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Abridged from the Monthly Magazine, October 1833. Tilt, London

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Because what?' 'Oh! nothing in particular, sir.' 'Ah! but I must know why. Why, sir, if you really must know: I thought that I wanted to ask a favour of you, but 'A favour! well, out with it-I promise you I'll grant it.' 'You know you are come here to sign Madame Delcourt's marriage settlement.' 'What! With Monsieur Baptiste Claremont, I mean.' 'Oh, ay, I see; well, go on.' And it so happens but you must promise me faithfully not to tell.' 'I do promise-go on, go on, "Ah! but you must say, upon

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your honour.' Upon my honour, then-' Well, 'What can you have to say to me, sir?' was the an- I think I can trust you. It so happens, you must swer he received. Oh, Lily, I can easily perceive by know, that Baptiste Claremont doesn't care a fig for your cold, your cruel conduct, that you think me a my aunt.' 'Who's your aunt ? Why, Madame faithless villain-but you wrong me.' 'Indeed!' Delcourt, to be sure.' 'You Madame Delcourt's faintly uttered Lily. "Ay, indeed you do. It is my niece!' To be sure I am.' 'Well, go on-go onfather who forces me to marry Madame Delcourt, be- I'm interested.' Thank ye, sir. As I was saying, Pray do not turn away-if you will but lis-Baptiste Claremont doesn't care a fig for my aunt; ten, I will explain all-and you, instead of neglecting but he's desperately in love with my sister! Well ?' me thus, will pity me, I am sure; for believe me, 'And my sister now promise me, you won't tell dearest Lily, I ever have, and ever shall, love you.' this. I do promise-any thing every thing-go And marry my aunt ?' Why will you taunt me? And my sister's desperately in love with him.' What can I do? Will you but listen to my explana-Ay! Now you know, sir, it's a terrible hard thing tion ?' 'Well?' said the distressed and anxious girl. for a handsome young man to be obliged to marry an 'You know, some time back, that your aunt lent my old woman, when he's in love with a young one-isn't it now ?' father three thousand francs, for a time, to pay off a 'Very, I should think.' Now, sir, I've mortgage on his farm, which would have ruined him.' been thinking, that if you would, you might be of very Can I? I'll do it Well? His bond for that three thousand francs is great service to us in this matter. now due, and she has offered to release him from it, with all my heart; but first tell me, why does Clareon his effecting my marriage with her; he, overjoyedmont, if so averse to it, marry Madame Delcourt then ?' at the proposal, will not hear any reason, but has per-Why, sir, I'll tell you-if you'll particularly remem emptorily commanded me to sacrifice my happiness for ber not to tell, for it's a very, very great secret.' life, and marry her You hear me, dearest Lily, You may quite depend upon me.' Antoinette placed do you not ?' Yes, Baptiste.' 'And do you not pity her beautiful lips almost close to his ear, and in a me? you know how dearly I love you-you must know whisper said, "She forgives your brother-in-law the it.' He again paused and on receiving no assent three thousand francs, when his son marries her.' "What! my brother-in-law take three thousand francs from Lily, he continued, "I never yet have disobeyed my father! never-in thought or word-although but tell me now, but let me think, that you feel I have intentionally slighted you-much as I honour his commands and I have proved I do he shall not be obeyed on this one-distressing point. No, no, Baptiste, It would be very wrong." you must not do that. Then tell me, have I exculpated myself? Lily's proffered hand was the only answer Baptiste received. Dear, dear Lily-how very much I love you!' exclaimed he passionately. God bless you, Baptisteand thoughbush-here comes your father-let go my hand.'

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from his wife-his son's wife I mean? Hush, hush
"Well, well-never
I beg of you to talk lower.'
mind-you're a very good-hearted nice little girl, and
you may tell your sister to make herself quite easy;
for, after all I have heard, I promise you, upon my
honour and word, I won't suffer the marriage to take
place. And now you may inform Monsieur Clare-
That I will, sir, directly but
mont I am here.'
pray remember not to mention to him what I have
told you.' 'Not I, believe me and you must be as
secret with the assurance I have given you, as regards
every body but your sister. To be sure, to be sure,'

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