love and generosity, he had married a lady with nothing but uncommon beauty and uncommon worth to recommend her, for she literally had not a shilling to her fortune. She was one of those gentle and retired characters who see and know little of the world, but who seem born to shed grace and loveliness upon the domestic circle. She rarely went abroad, and the little company she saw at home was of a very select description. Her mind found its proper employment and happiness in the bosom of a young and numerous family, which she was diligently training up in the love of God and man. Mr. Conway's numerous connections and extreme fondness for society drew him so much from home, that I made no less than five calls at his house before I could meet with him, when to my no small satisfaction he was alone and disengaged. We spent a very agreeable hour, during which the charms of his conversation almost compensated for all my previous disappointments. He had just concluded some critical remarks upon the works of a very popular poet, when the great clock in the hall struck seven. He instantly rose, with evident discomposure in his countenance— pulled out his gold-repeater-replaced it-made several hasty turns across the room-took up the poker-adjusted the fire-then threw himself upon his chair, and was making some slight observation, when his lady entered. 66 Pray, Mrs. Conway, what is the reason we are so late this evening? Have I not repeatedly expressed my wish that Robert should bring in the tea exactly ten minutes before seven o'clock, that the first cup may be poured out not later than seven? Do you consider the multiplicity of my engagements which renders this sort of irregularity exceedingly inconvenient ?" "I am extremely sorry, my dear, at the delay; but Sally's mother has been with her nearly an hour this afternoon, upon some particular family business, which has rather retarded the work of the kitchen; but tea will now be ready in five minutes !" "That is certainly no excuse at all! The order and regularity of my family must not be disturbed by the private affairs of my servants. I shall expect Sally's friends to attend not only to a more proper time for their visits, but also to their reasonable duration." This dialogue, which, short as it was, I could not help thinking too long, was happily terminated by the entrance of Robert with the urn; and while tea was making, Mr. Conway, perhaps sensible of a slight degree of rudeness, endeavoured to assume his usual vivacity. This, however, was speedily interrupted by an unlucky muffin, the aspect of which was rather too sombre for my friend's taste. "I am really astonished," said he, “at Susan's assurance in presuming to send in the muffins burnt to a cinder, when she has been told a hundred times that I choose them lightly toasted; the next offence of this sort, Mrs. Conway, notwithstanding your foolish partiality to the girl, shall assuredly be followed by her immediate dismissal To overlook such palpable negligence and disobedience, would ruin the best servant in the world, and totally undermine that authority so necessary to the proper regulation of a family." "Indeed, my dear, I exceedingly regret Susan's inattention; the muf fins are certainly a little too much toasted, but this I think does not frequently occur; and I shall request her to be more exact in future. Susan is, on the whole, a most excellent servant, and it would distress me much to part with her, especially on so trifling an occasion." A long pause now ensued; the unpleasant adventure of the muffin had entirely demolished Mr. Conway's good-humour, and his lady grew me lancholy and reserved. Our situation became intolerably irksome, and I endeavoured to divert attention from the late incident by the relation of several anecdotes. I particularly mentioned a neighbouring gentleman of fortune, who had married the daughter of one of his tenants. Mr. Conway severely reprobated his imprudence, maintained that inequality of condition was a source of exquisite misery in the marriage-state, a means of degrading a man from his station in society, and productive of both public and private evil. He declared, that he had never known a single instance of connubial happiness where there was any material disparity of rank or fortune. I turned my eye upon Mrs. Conway; a single tear stood ready to steal its march down her cheek as she silently withdrew to attend her domestic concerns. Oh! how eloquent was that tear! it spoke volumesit penetrated my very soul. This evening had unfolded to me a little secret in the character of my accomplished friend. I discovered that he was very polite, very gentlemanly, very entertaining, and very agreeable; in short, that he was a very charming fellow every where but-in his own house. After four such trials, Mr. Editors, you will hardly expect that a man of my cast should make a fifth. The experience they furnished was not altogether useless. It taught me the value of unmeaning invitations and idle professions, and convinced me that the most friendly cup of tea is generally to be found at a man's own fire-side. EUGENIUS. Biography, Anecdotes, &c. TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE REV. ASTLEY MEANLEY, With a descriptive Sketch of the Vicinity of that Hamlet. To the Editors of the Northern Star. HAD the Northern Star arisen in our hemisphere, before the sun of the late Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Meanley, of Stannington, had set, their life and their death would have blended with its beams; but the memory of the just can never be out of date; and if you will accept the accompanying tribute to their virtues, and recognition of their abode, it may not be considered irrelative to the local nature of your Magazine, and the claims of departed excellence. Of such who, wrapt in earth so cold, No more the smiling day shall view, For many a tender thought is due. STANNINGTON, a small hamlet. four miles from Sheffield, is spread out on the side of a mountain which flanks the high ridges joining the Peak of Derbyshire to the eastward, and overlooks the widely-extended common rising to those opposing hills which form, in continuous succession, the Penistone moors, the Lancashire hills, and the mountains of Wales.-Between this Common and the declivity upon which Stannington is built, the little river Loxley, which gives a name to the opposite district, winds its way amidst birch and alders, to join the Don, a few miles below. The banks of its rocky pavement are occasionally diversified by those buildings, called in the phrase of the country "Wheels," where the iron articles made in the vicinity are ground and polished. These low walls, with their highraised roofs, upon which the house-leek and the ivy maintain their station and their verdure in all seasons, tinted by the amber-coloured clay that not only tinges their base and the surrounding objects, but the workmen employed therein, with the large round grinding-stone in reserve, resting against the wall, and half bedded in the soil, contrasted with the little patches of ground (covered over with culinary vegetables) which the grinders cultivate at leisure, present a picture, peculiar in its combination to the neighbourhood of Sheffield, upon the banks of the Rivelin, the Lor ley, and the Don. The inhabitants of Stannington are chiefly employed in shaping or filing the blades of knives, razors, and scissors, in little out-buildings adjoining their habitations, previous to their being polished at the wheels below. Husbandry, the happiest occupation of the labouring poor, is almost totally excluded by the sterility of the soil, which is chiefly covered with stone, excepting where in some sheltered spot the elegant birch which is indigenous in the country, and the graceful ash that loves the "land of the mountain and the flood," spread abroad their sylvan beauty; or from the interstices of the bedded stones, the purple erica, the tufts of the fern, that grace of the heath, rising like the plumes of a Mexican chief, with the bold blue-bells of the major campanula, soften the scene, and compel the beholder to say, "All is not barren!"" The dwellers in this high, yet sheltered hamlet, are people of simple habits and uncultivated manners; at least such they were in times not long since gone by. Blockaded by the long and tedious hills which interveDe between them and Sheffield, their intercourse is limited to a weekly errand to receive their earnings and provide their necessaries. A small but neat dissenting chapel affords the people of Stannington an opportunity of meeting together in the name and to the praise of HIM who laid the foundation of their hills, and bade the waters of their vallies flow, uniting them weekly with their more widely-scattered neighbours in the district of Stannington and Loxley, there, with the simplicity of older times and mountain-dwellers, they bring their refreshments with them, and in summer make their dining-table on the mossy stone, or the green turf that attaches to their chapel. If "the grandest scenes of nature re- The Rev. ASTLEY MEANLEY, late Minister of Stannington, and she who bore his name, went hand in hand in all those offices of kindness that brought down blessings on their name and labours. Their aid was the sure resort for every want, their counsel for every difficulty, and their solace for every woe. They did not wait for their application, but like ministering angels sought it out. Their visits were sweet and many. "sweet They were at Stannington, what Hope is said to be in the cup of life, the cordial drop by which its draught is sweetened. Mr. Meanley's heart overflowed with peace and good-will to all mankind; and that of his partner was an emanation from the same affectionate source. To them the young looked up for counsel, and the aged for support; whilst children, (who early distinguish such as deserve to be loved and venerated) sought with "endearing wile" their presence. The cheerful smile, the kind encouragement, the serious injunction, and the ready but well-directed gift were repaid by affection, gratitude, and observance and whilst personal and pecuniary aid was dispensed to all that needed, the beauty of their practical holiness was evinced in the cheerful, prompt, and zealous administration of its best and purest spirit. In a country so wildly secluded from the world, and amidst a people so grateful, the benevolent association was as the shepherd's pipe upon the mountains," with all his little flock at rest about him. There, shut out from all the pomp that beats upon the high shore of the world, "their lives and conversation, their hospitable hearth, their books, their house, was like a flower in the desert, -a star when only one is shining in the sky, a sail in the hitherto shipless sea: within, it presented to the ever-welcome visitor and the cherished friend, every requisite for the happiest accommodation warmth, comfort, and usefulness pervaded; whilst without, the bleakness of its situation was sheltered and softened by trees that rose high above the building they embowered, and graced by all the kindly-blooming flowers that were cultured in the garden, (sloping up the hill in front of its windows,) from amongst which a little stream of water ran, with the freshness of a mountain-spring, diffusing life and beauty to all within its elementary influence. Under the affliction of extreme deafness, Mr. Meanley's countenance was ever chearful happy to see his guests happy, he exacted no individual attentions, but sought within himself and from his books that amusement which relieved them from exertions he did not wish to excite. religion was that which St. James calls the "pure and undefiled before God, to visit the widow and the fatherless, and to keep himself unspotted * St. Pierre's Studies of Nature. His by the world:" to do good, and to be good, was alike the practice of his life, and the precept of his pulpit. He was at peace with himself, and the same blessed spirit pervaded all beneath his roof. Mrs. Meanley was a native of Sheffield: in her, goodness was an heritage, one that she well improved, making her ten talents twenty. Hers was that active agency peculiar to woman when she puts her heart into the act; and in kindness of will and deed, her spirit, as her heart, was with her husband. She was first called to receive her reward, and they whose lives had been thus lovely, death did not long divide.* At Stannington, long will their goodness and their memories be hallowed, and the house in which they dwelt be blessed for their names' sake. A MOUNTAINEER. * A plain stone over the grave which contains the mortal remains of both, (in the yard of the Upper chapel, Norfolk-Street, Sheffield,) bears the following inscription :"Here lie the Rev. ASTLEY MEANLEY, Minister of Stannington, and JANE his wife, (who was the daughter of the Rev. Thomas Haynes.) He died 31st May, 1814, and she 23rd April, 1812." Original Poetry. NOON AT SHEFFIELD. "TIS twelve-the tinkling chimes from yonder bill |