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FASHIONABLE RUSTIC tion,' say to my mainma, I am WALKING AND HALF DRESS. now a man, fulfil now your pro

mise; give me my father's sword; (With ar Engraving, elegantly co- let me join the army, fight for my loured.)

country, and be a hero like my

father!" 1, A JACKET and petticoat “ Aye, brother, but suppose you of thick slate-coloured muslin or should, like my father, die in batfine stuff; the jacket trimined tle, or like that brave hero we read with a double row of pink rib- of in the news-papers' the other bon, and the petticoat and sleeves day, who in the great sea-fight Vandyked with the same ; long fought the French so nobls" sleeves or gloves to match the . And conquered, sister ! - That dress : a gypsy hat of chip or

was a glorious death! He will straw, trimmed with pink crape; ever live in the hearts of his counand a half handkerchief of the trymen ; and each rising generasame tied under the chin; white tiön will read the name of Nelson parasol, and slate-coloured or grey with rapture, and try to imitate shoes.

so great an example.' 2. A short round dress of thick

“ Indeed, Frederic, I do not India muslin, made close to the like to hear you speak so; one throat, which is finished with a would think you were unhappy, I Vandyke collar : the front orna

sure mamma is the best of mented with rich work or lace;

women. We have an elegant cote plain long sleeves, trimmed at the tage, and beautiful gardens to play bottom with the same. A cap of in. Now, for my part, I never vellow satin interniixed with lace, would wish to quit mamma's side: and a yellow rose in front, yellow But, come brother, suppose you kid shoes and gloves.

and I were to attend a little to our tasks to day; you know maminá has promised, if we are good, to

take us to Theodore's cotiage; ! THE SWORD.

long to know how his arm is; it A FRAGMENT.

was a sad thing for him to break

it: I wonder who attends his silke By Caroline A.

worms how, as his children are too

Foung to do any thing for him. I WISH I were a man,' said I am sure when I am there and the youthful Frederic to his little see their distress, I bless God for sister Madeline.--" Dear me, bro- his goodness to me, and enabling ther! how often will you say it? mamma to relieve the poor." and suppose you was a man, what Madame de Soleure here interwould you do then?"

rupted the conversation; the chilFrederic cast his eyes on his dren looked frightened, for the father's sword that hung over the tasks were totally forgotten.-- My chimney; the colour nounted to beloved children,' said the ariable his lovely cheeks. I would,' said lady, 'I have heard your converhe, raising his hands towards the sation ; I was sitring in the next sword in an attitude of supplica- room; the partition is so thin, und

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you spoke so loud that it was miss Meadows. The opening blosimapossible for me not to hear soms of genious which she saw risyou; your sentiments delight me. i ing in the mind of Maria inspired Yours, my darling boy; must be ; her with an idea which she thought as yet suppressed ; if it be the will ; would sooth many hours of sad reof Bleaven to spare you, a few years flection. This was to educate her will bring you to that period you

niece herself; and no person was so ardently wish for: In the inter- better calculated for such a task vening time you hare a great deal · than miss Meadows.

She was to learn., A true hero inust be a well educated, had read a great. gentleman ; both his inind and deal, reflected much, had mixed manners, must be polished ; and with the higher circles of life, and without education that will never could draw from each scene, and be. Retuin, my dear Frederic, each character, those traits she to your studies; waste not reven a thought would so form her Maria particle of your time, for like para as to make her amiable in domesticles of gold they each have their tic. life. Under such a precepseparate value; and if lost, the tress the little Maria could not mind which polished might prove fail of improvement, and never your greatest ornament, would be was trouble better repaid. Often dormant to yourself and friends. would the little orphan say, when I will keep my promise by attend- her aunt rewarded her with a kiss ing you this evening to the cottage, for well executing her task, I of Theodore,

should be an ungrateful little girl Wkile I have my young friends if I did not endeavour to please my hard at their task, and their ami- dear aunt! I will never, while I able mother occupied in domestic' live, vex my dear aunt !' Muria arrangements, I will give my little was blessed with the outward form rtaders an outline of madame de of beauty; her mind was the seat Soleure's history. I think I hear of the milder virtues; she possessed iniss Fanny say, 'Oh! I hope we sensibility to feel for the woes of shall hear more of sweet little Ma- others; to feel that gratitude was • deline;' and master Tom says, “I the first debt due to the Almighty long to know if Frederic gets his for his benefits to her, and to her father's sword;' while miss Eliza aunt who had endowed her with is quite pleased that the author or. those mental accomplishments that authoress is to tell them something taught her to look on the frivolities of good madaine de Soleure: as I of life with indifference. She had shall make miss Eliza the oldest in just reached hier eighteenth year the present party, she shall be gra-' when her aunt's health began to tified.

decline: a rapid consumption had • Madame de Soleure lost both taken possession of her frame. her parents at so early a period of With what tender care and anxlife that she had no recollection iety did Maria watch over her early of them : her mother's sister took friend; by each endearment she charge of the orphan, and never would try to ease the heavy hours was trust more inplicitly fulfilled of pain; night and morn would than it was by miss Meadows. The she iinplore Heaven to spare her death of a belgved sister had chased aunt, her more than parent. the smile of joy from the face of The climate of England w38 VOL. XXXVIII.

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thought by the physicians too keen tember's strell; the harvest was for iniss Meadows, and towards Ar ju most places ended; only a few tumn they ordereit her to Lisbon, beans were left to be got in, and or the south of France; at this pe- the farmer's Summer toil would riod France enjoyed the blessings be ended. The air was very calm, , of peace, and the people were and I could not frelp ejaculating, happy in being governed by a good king, Miss Meadows, who had for those whom wisdom and whom

This is the time, ever her niece's iinprovement at

Nature charm, heart, thought that a tour through to steal themselves from the degenerate this delightful country would be a crowd, source of delight to a mind fond of And soar above this little scene of the charms of nature; and Maria things; formed in her ardent imagination To tread low-thoughted tice beneath

their feet: her aunt's restored health, whilst travelling with her through those To sooth the throbbing passions inte delightful scenes she so often read And woo lone Quiet in her silent walks:

, of: she had never quitted her na

THOMSOX. tive shades in Somerset, and now anticipated the pleasure with ar The fallen leates that rustled dour natural to youth.*

under my feet as I walked one Skepton-Mallet

seemed to whisper in my car's •Winter is at hand ;' for when

Summer quits us short is the
A NIGHT WALK

progress till Winter
• Reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd

year.'
IN SEPTEMBER,

As yet it was warm and fine, and By J. M. L.

Night was clad in her brightest

robe ; no sullen cloud obscured • Now air is hush'd, save where the the bright face of heaven, all was weak-ey'd bat

beauty, and all was peace; each With short shrill shricks flits by on leathern wing;

Silver-streaming star'
Or where the beetle winds poured its radiance around, and

His small but sullen horn, the pale-eyed moon shed her wanAs oft he rises 'midst the twilight path, ing lustre on the earth... Thus Against the pilgrim borne in heedless may we address Night when si-, hum ;

lence and serenity atfend her: Now tenehme muid compos'.

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less song

death;

morn;

Or'inid the dun discolour'd gloom, Wounded, and wheeling various, down Sits on some hero's peaceful tonib,

the wind. Throws Life's gay glittring role aside, These are not subjects for the peaceful And tramples on the neck of Pride,

Muse,

OGILVIE. Nor will she stain with such her spotCrossing a field of stubble I Then most delighted, when she social heard the partridge's cry.--Night. The whole mix'd animal ereation round loving bird ! well may'st thou, at Alise, and happy. Tis not joy to her, this season more especially, seek This falsely-cheerful barb'rous gaine of the gloom of inidnight rather than the glare of day; instinct has This rage of pleasure, which the besttaught thee to dread the hour of less youth light, and instinct teaches truly. Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming Soon as morning appears, the sportsman, with jocund heart, will When beasts of prey retire, that all seek thy closest haunt; there the Urg'd by necessity, had rang'd the dark, steady pointer will show thy hid- Urgd. by necessity, had rang'd the dark,

As if their conscious ravage shuna'd the ing-place-his master advances ;

light, fear seizes thee ! you rise, and Ashani'd. Not so the steady tyrant, death almost certainly awaits thee! man,

Who, with the thoughtless insolence of ! Here the rude clamour of the sports pow'r, man's joy,

Inflain'd beyond the most infuriate The gun fast thund'ring, and the windo. wrath ed horn,

Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd Would tempt the Muse to sing the the waste, tural game:

For sport alone pursues the cruel chase, I low, in his mid career, the spaniel, Amid the beamings of the gentle days. struck

Upbraid, ye rav’ning tribes, our wanton Suff by the tainted gale, with open nose, rage, Outstretch'd, and finely sensible, draws For hunger kindles you, and lawless full,

want; Fearful and cautious, on the latent prey; But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty rolled, As in the sun the circling covey bask To joy at anguish, and delight in blood, Their vivid plumes, and watchful ev'ry Is what your horrid bosons never knew.' way

THOMSON Thro' the rough stubble turn the secret eye.

On my way home, toward which Caught in the neshy snare, in vain they I was now hastening, as the mists

beat Their idle wings, entangled more and began to rise, my ideas, by an immore ;

pulsé which po man can control Nor on the surges of the boundless air, or define, were lert to the females Tho' borne tțiumphant, are they safe'; of the present dạy ; that some few

of them are faulty the fairest Glanc'd just, and suuldon, from the arnongst them will allow; that

they are but fewvery fewam D'ertakes their sounding pinions ; and extremely willing to believe: but,

again, Immediate, brings them from the tows. as my walks are addressed more ing wing

particularly to them, and for their Dead to the ground;. 05 drives them perusal, I am sure I shall be eswide dispersid,

cysed for ending this with what

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the gun,
fowler's ege,

man

quent foot

Hurdis calls a friendly lecture to From him who ill deserves. Let the the fair.' The truths it contains spruce beau, are obvious; and though it is a

That lean, sweet-scented, and palav'roys long quotation, still the beauty of Who talks of honqur and his sword,

fool, it will amply repay those who have

and plucks never before read it; and to those The inan who dares advise hiin by the who have the pleasing recollections nose ; of Hurdis's poetry, will be, I am That puny thing which hardly crawls sure, a sufficient inducement for about, them again to peruse it.

Reduc'd by wine and women, Fet drinks

on, • Unwedded maiden, is there yet a And ve pours loudly o'er his glass, re

solv'd For wisdom eminent ? Seck him be- To tell a tale of nothing, and outswear times :

The northern tempest ; let that fool, I He will not shun thee, tho' thy fre say,

Look for a wife in vain, and live de Wear out the pavement at his door. Ye spisid. fair,

• I would that all the fair ones of this Be sedulous to win the man of sense ;

isle And fly the empty fool. Shanie the dull Were such as one I knew. Peace t? boy

her soul! Who' leaves at college what he learnd She lives no more! And I a genius need at school,

To paint her as she was. Most like, And whips his academic hours away, methinks, Cas'd in unwrinkled buckskin and tight That amiable maid the Poet drew boots,

With angel pencil, and baptiz'd hy More studious of his hunter than his Portia. books.

Happy the man, and happy sure he was, Oh! had ye sense to see what powder'd So wedded. Bless'd with her, he wanapes

der'd not Ye oft admire, the idle hoy for shame To seck for happiness ; 'twas his at Would lay his racket and his ball aside, home. And love his tutor and his desk. Time Ilow often have I chain'd my truant was

tongue When ev'ry woman was a judge of arms To hçar the music of her sober words ! And military exploit. ''Twas an age How often have I wonder'd at the grace Of admirable heroes! And time was Instrucțion borrow'd from her eye and When women dealt in Hebrew, Latin, check! Greek:

Surely that maid deserves a monarch's No dunces then, but all were deeply love learn'd.

Who bears such rich resources in heç. I do not wish to see the female

eye.

self Waste all its lustre at the midnigḥt For her sweet progeny! A mother lamp:

..

taught I do not wish to see the female cheek Entails à blessing on her infant charge Grow pale with application. Let your Better than riches; an unfading cruse care

She leaves behind her, which the faster Be to preserve your benntu...that sa

Aws

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