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periority of mind, my colour would no longer single me out, and prevent their being appreciated: but it happened that these very qualities quickly opposed my illusion. I could not desire my own happiness at the expence of the misfortune of thousands; besides, I daily witnesssd the folly of persons who were struggling against events that they could not control. I saw through the weakness of such characters, and guessed their secret views. Their false philanthropy did not long deceive me, and I quite gave up my hopes when I found that they would still feel contempt for me, even in the midst of the severest adversity. The days were gone when each sought to please, and remembered that the only means of doing so in society is the very unconsciousness of one's own success. No sooner did the revolution cease to be a grand theory, no sooner did it menace the interests of every high individual, than conversation degenerated into dispute, and reasoning was exchanged for bitter personality. Sometimes, in spite of my dejection, I could not help being amused by the sudden violence of opinions which were excited by ambition, affectation, or fear. But gaiety that is occasioned by the observation of folly in others, is too malignant to do good: the heart delights in innocent joys; and the mirth of ridicule, far from dispelling misfortune, is more likely to proceed from it, as it feeds upon the same bitterness of soul.

"My hopes in the Revolution having quickly vanished, I remained dissatisfied, as before, with my situation. Madame de B.'s friendship and confidence were my only solace. Often, in the midst of an acrimonious political discussion, after vainly trying to restore good humour, she would cast a sad look at me. This look was a balm to my heart: it seemed to say, 'Ourika, you alone can sympathise with me.'

"The negro's right to liberty next egan to be debated, and I, of course, felt deeply interested in the question. One of my remaining illusions was, that at least I had countrymen in another land, and, knowing them to be unhappy, I believed them virtuous, and pitied their fate. Alas! here again I was undeceived. The massacre of St. Domingo added fresh grief to my soul; and, to my despair, at belonging to a proscribed race, was added shame at their being likewise a race of barbarians.

"The Revolution having soon made

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rapid progress, and the most violent men getting into power, inspired the greatest terror by their utter disregard of the laws of justice. The horrid days of the 20th of June and 10th of August, prepared for every other event. greater number of Madame de B.'s friends fled at this epoch. Some sought shelter abroad, others in the provinces or in secret retreats; but she remained. The constant occupation of her heart fixed her to home.

"We had been living for some months in solitude, when, towards the latter end of the year 1792, the decree for the confiscation of emigrants' estates was issued. In the midst of such great disasters, Madame de B. would have cared little for the loss of her fortune, had it not belonged to her grand-children, for, by a family arrangement, she had only the enjoyment of it during her lifetime. This made her decide upon sending for Charles home; whilst his elder brother, then nearly one-and-twenty, went to join the army of the Prince of Conde. Their travels were just completed, which, two years before, had been undertaken under such different auspices. Charles arrived in Paris in the beginning of February 1793, a short time after the King's death, Madame de B. had given herself up to the most poignant grief at the perpetration of this deed. Her feeling mind proportioned its horror to the immensity of the ciime. Affliction in old age is a most moving spectacle; it carries with it the authority of reason, Madame de B. suffered with such energy that it affected her health, and I did not conceive it possible to console her; but I mingled my tears with hers, and sought, by elevat ing my own sentiments, to ally my soul more nearly to her's, so that I might, at least, share her sufferings. My own distress scarcely occurred to me while the reign of terror lasted. I should have felt ashamed to think of it during such dreadful calamities: besides, I no longer felt so isolated, since every person round me was unhappy. Opinion is like the link of country. It is the property of all, and men are brothers to de fend its cause. Sometimes I thought that, poor negress as I was, still I was allied to noble minds by the same need of justice that I experienced in commen with them. The return of truth and justice to their country, would be a day of triumph for me as well as for them; but, alas ! it was far distant.

"On Charles's return, Madame de

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B. went into the country. All her fiiends had fled. The only society she had left was that of an old Abbe, who, for ten years, had turned religion into ridicule, but was now highly irritated at the riches of the clergy being confiscated, because he lost twenty thousand francs a-year by it. He accompanied us to St. Germain. His company was rather quiet than agreeable, and was more the result of his disposition than of his heart.

"Madame de B. had had it in her power, all her life, to do good. She was intimately acquainted with the Count de Choiseul, and, during his long ministry, was useful to a number of persons. Two of the most popular men, during the reign of terror, owed obligations to her, and remembered it in those dreadful times. They watched over her preservation, and risked their own lives to save her's from the fury of the revolutionary assassins; and it may here be remarked, that, at this fatal epoch, even the chiefs of the most violent factions ran great danger in doing a little good. It seemed as if our desolate land was only to be governed by evil, for that alone took away, or gave power. Madame de B. was not sent to prison; she was guarded at home under pretext of bad health. Charles, the Abbe, and myself, remained with her, and attended her with care.

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Nothing can equal the state of auxiety and terror in which we passed, our days, continually reading in the papers accounts of the sentences of death passed against Madame de B.'s friends, and trembling lest her protectors should be deprived of the power of preserving her from a similar fate. We discovered, ideed, that she was on the eve of perishing, when the death of Roberspierre put an end to so much horror. We breathed again-the guards left our house, and we all remained in the same solitude, like people who have escaped some great calamity together. Misfortune seemed to have linked us closer to each other. I felt in those moments that I was not a stranger. If I ever passed a few happy moments since the fairy days of my childhood, it was during the times that followed this disastous epoch. Madame de B. possessed to a supreme degree those qualities which constitute the charm of domestic life. Her temper was easy and indulgent; she always put the most favourable construction upon what was said before her; no harsh or captious judgment of her's ever cooled the confidence

of her friends. Thoughts were free, and might be uttered without responsibility before her, merely passing for what they were worth. Such gifts, had they been her only ones, would have made Madame de B.'s friends adore her; but how many others she possessed! It was impossible to feel in her company; there was a charm in her wit and manner, that made even trifles interesting the moment they engrossed her attention.

66 · Charles bore some resemblance to his mother. His mind, like her's, was liberal and just, but firm, and without modification, for youth allows of noneit finds every thing quite right or quite wrong; while the failing of old age is to believe that nothing is ever quite right or quite wrong. Charles was endowed with the two first qualities of his agetruth and justice. I have already said that he hated the very shadow of affectation; nay, he sometimes fancied it where it did not exist. Reserve was habitual to him, and this made his confidence the more flattering, as it was evidently the result of his esteem, and not of his natural propensity: whatever portion of it he granted, was of value, for he never acted inconsiderately, and yet was always natural and sincere. He placed such fuil reliance in me, that his thoughts were communicated to me as quickly as they came.

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When we were all seated round our table of an evening, how interesting were our conversations! Our old Abbe took his share in them. He had made out to himself such a completely false set of ideas, and maintained them with so much good faith, that he was an inexhaustible source of amusement to Madame de B. Her clear and penetrating judgment drew out the poor man's absurdities (he never taking it amiss ;) and she would throw in keen traits of good sense over his orderly system, which we used to compare to the heavy strokes of Charlemagne's or Roland's sword.

"Madame de B. was foud of exercise. We used to walk in the forest of St. Germain every morning; she leaning on the Abbe, and I following with Charles at a distance. It was then he would unburden his mind to me, and tell me his thoughts, his projects, his future hopes, and above all his opinion upon` men and passing events. He had not a secret feeling hidden from me, and was unconscious of disclosing one. The habit of relying upon my friendship had made it like his own life toh m、

enjoyed it without knowing that he did. He demanded neither attention nor ex-* pression of interest from me; he knew, that in speaking to me of his own concerns, it was as though he spoke to me of mine, and that I felt more deeply for him than he did for himself. Friendship like this was a charm that equalled the sensations of happiness itself!

So I

"I never thought of telling Charles what had 30 long oppressed me. I listened to him; and, by I know not what magical effect, his conversation' banished from my mind the recollection of my sorrows. Had he questioned me, I should have confessel them all; but he did not imagine that I had any secret." Every body was accustomed to my weak state of health; and Madame de B. had strived so much to make me happy, that she had a right to think me so. ought to have been: I felt it, and often accused myself of ingratitude and folly. I doubt whether I should have ever dared to own how miserable the irreparable misfortune of my colour made me. There is a sort of degradation in not being able to submit to necessity; and when hopeless grief masters the soul, it bears the character of despair. There was a rigidity in Charles's notion, which likewise increased my timidity. One evening our conversation turned upon pity, and it was asked whether misfortune inspires most compassion from its cause, or from its effects. Charles decided for the former: this was declaring that all grief should be actuated by some powerful motive. But who can judge the motives of another? All hearts have not the same wants; and does not real misfortune consist in the hearts being deprived of its desires? It was seldom, however, that our conversations thus led me to reflect upon my own case, which I so earnestly sought to forget. I would have no looking-glasses in my room; I constantly wore gloves and dresses that covered my throat and arms; I had a large hat and veil to walk out in, which I often continued to wear ia doors; in short, I would fain have deceived myself, and like a child, shut my own eyes and thought that no one

saw me.

(To be continued.)

VARIETIES.

TEST OF TEMPER.,

Olaus Magnus, who lived in the middle of the sixteenth century, informs_us,

that in his time it was 26 a custom among the most illustrious Goths and Swedes, when they would honestly marry their daughters, to prove the disposition of the suitors that came to them, and to know their passions especially, by playing with them at tables or chess. For at these games, their anger, love, peevishness, covetousness, dullness, idleness, and many more mad pranks, passions, and motives of their minds, and the forces and properties of their fortunes, are used to be seen; as whether the wooer be rudely disposed, that he will indiscreetly rejoice and suddenly triumph when he wins; or whether, when he is wronged, he can patiently endure it, and wisely put it off.'

SINGULAR DIRECTION.

A package with this direction, safely reached its intended destination from London :

"Deliver this as soon as you can
To Thomas Porter, of Uppingham,
(Abraham and he are brothers ;)

He sells and cries
Hot buns and pies

On market days and others!"

FRENCH INGENUITY.

AN ANECDOTE.

A Frenchman went to a rich Jew, and told him he wished to exchange a number of dollars for Louis d'ors, which he was under the necessity of immediately procuring. The Jew, after bargaining to his own advantage, consented, and promised the gold should be ready the following day. At the appointed hour the Frenchman came with his bags, which, having holes in the sides and near the top, suffered some dollars to be seen. The gold being counted and weighed,, he presented an empty bag, in which it was put.

Just at this moment, when the dollars were to be examined, a friend entered in great haste, and called him away on urgent business. However, he left not only the bag supposed to contain the gold, but also the bag supposed to contain the dollars, and said he would return in two hours to see them counted; desiring, in the mean time, they might be locked up in the Jew's bureau.

The two hours elapsed, and the Frenchman did not make his appearance, but the Jew thought himself safe,

He was unwilling to unlock the bureau till the Frenchman should be present. At length, another hour having glided. away, he began to say to himself:-" Is it possible that I can have been cheated?" The very question was alarming to any man, and especially to a money changer. The first anxiety of the Jew led him to the supposed bag of gold; this he untied, and discovered that the bag containing the gold had been exchanged for one which was full of leaden counters. He scarcely needed to enquire further; however, he opened the bag of silver, and found himself équally deceived.

He hastened to go and acquaint the police; but when he came to an outward door that led to his apartment, it was locked and bolted. The Frenchmen had post-horses prepared, and had instantly taken flight; but, when they were at a distance, they were guilty of some imprudent delay; and, alter the Jew had obtained his release, the vigilance of the pursuit was so great that the Frenchman, against whom the Jew had deposed, was taken.

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During his imprisonment at Amsterdam his behaviour and abilities were equally remarkable. By the aid of burned turf and straw he drew the siege of Mantua on the walls, and Buonaparte on horseback, heading the French armies. While the executioner was whipping him, he spoke of the magistrates in the most contemptuous terms. What," said he, is my crime compared to theirs? I have but cheated a Jew; a vile fellow, who has become rich by cheating; while the wretches who condemn me to this ignominious punishment have betrayed and sold their country.' He was afterwards branded; and at the moment of inflicting the mark, he criad aloud, Vive la Republique!

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STORY TELLING.

One of the most favourite amusements of the Lazzaroni of Naples, is to listen to public readers, of whom (says Mr. Galiffe in his Italy) there were generally two or three on the mole; and it is really a curious thing to see an audience of individuals covered with dirty rags, listening to poetry with the same attention as the Greeks might have paid to Homer. They sit on the ground, or on the wall, or on the logs of wood that are occasionally deposited on the mole, while the readers stand in the middle of the throng, or rather at one extremity of

with a small vacant space before

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them, as their stage or arena. readers take care to oblige the nonpaying amateurs to yield up their places to those from whom they have reason to expect contributions. Such preferences in a public place, where, in strictness, all rights are equal, would not be tolerated in many of the capitals of Europe; but a strong and lively sense of equity pervades the whole of this class at Naples, in such a degree, that I never saw either disturbance or discontent occasioned by these interferences. The ragged listeners who were thus arbitrarily displaced for persons who did not even thank them for it, rose from their seats with perfect coolness and equanimity, and sought other places in more distant parts of the circle. I was frequently induced to stop at these groups to examine the features, attitude, and expression of the individuals who composed them; but I could never bear to listen above a few minutes to the reader; who stops at every line in poetry, and at every comma in prose, to explain by his gestures, or by other words, the sense of what he has just recited. But his ill-timed emphasis and ridiculous grimaces, which made his exhibition intolerable to my taste, formed, perhaps, an essential part of the entertainment of his native audience; for as the books which I heard read, were always written in pure Tuscan Italian, it is probable that, without the grimaces and interpretations of the reader, few of his hearers would understand his meaning. I also was surprised to find that the readings were usually in some romance of chivalry, a style of subject which does not seem to have many points, in unison with their feelings; and I was the more astonished at this, because there is abundance of pretty poetry, and of very entertaining fairy tales, in the Neapolitan dialect. Howbeit, "Sentir storie" is so favourite an amusement, that it always attracts a crowd on the mole, even when contending with the rivalship of an exhibition of puppets. At one time, there were no fewer than six spectacles for the mob, exhibiting there every day; a reader of poetry, a declaimer in prose, a singer, a tooth-drawer, and mountebank; a pulcinello with a dog, and puppets that performed plays. Each of these was very numerously attended.

CLERICAL MISTAKES.

A few years ago, on a Sunday, two sprigs of the law, who were attending the circuit of the Judges, taking a ram

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ble through the country, happened to enter a small hedge inn, where it was the the custom of an honest old curate to make a slight repast between the hours of performing his multifarious duties, it being too far to go home between each. They entered the common room, whers the curate was sitting, and began talk ing about the various causes in which they were or had been concerned; but presently observing him, one said to the other, in a whisper loud enough to be overheard, “Jack, here's an old parson; let's quiz him.' And then said aloud, "What do you think I heard, Jack, the last time I was at our parish church?" "Can't tell, indeed," replied Jack.Why," rejoined the other, the parson made a terrible blunder in reading the Psalins; for, instead of saying Ŏ Og, King of Basan,' he said, My hog is the king of bacon-' Oh, plied Jack, "that's nothing; for, a short time ago, our rector, in reading the lesson where it speaks of Ananias and Sapphira his wife, he said, Ananias set fire to his wife!" After a good hearty laugh, the first turned round to the curate, and said, "You seem to be of the cloth, Sir." The curate bowed, "And pray do you never make such mistakes, as you find your brethren are apt to do?"---Yes, Gentlemen, I must confess I do. No longer ago than this morning I

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"Indeed!---What was it?""My discourse, Gentlemen, turning upon fiars, I was about to say, that the Devil was the father of them all; but, by some unaccountable mistake, I said, 'the Devil is the father of all LAWYERS!'" The merriment of the young gentlemen was a little damped at having such a relation pinned to their backs; and, paying their reckoning, they sneaked off without saying a word.

Lord Byron died in early life; but he seems in that respect to have paid the unripe debt of nature in common with many of his celebrated predecessors, Shakspeare died in his 52d year, in the enjoyment and full vigour of his facul ties Spencer died at 48-Marlow at 31 Sir T. Wyatt at 39--Henry Howard, Lord Surrey, was beheaded at 31 Sir Philip Sidney, was killed in battle at 32-Lord Halifax died at 40-the licentious Rochester at 30-Otway at 34 J. Philips at 32-Collins at 26 Churchill at 33-Parnell at 38-Savage at 45-Addison at 47, leaving, like Lord Byron, one only child, a daughter Day died at 44-Goldsmith at 46 R. Fergu

son, the Scotch Poet, at 34-and Robert Burns, (at the same age as Lord Byron,) in his 37th year.

A CURIOUS EPITAPH.

Some years since, a Mr. Dickson, who was Provost of Dundee, in Scotland, died; and, by will, left the sum of one guinea to a person to compose an epitaph upon him; which sum he directed the three executors to pay. The executors, thinking to defraud the poet, agreed to meet, and share the guinea among them, each contributing a line to the epitaph, which ran as follows:

First, "Here lies Dickson, Provost of Dundee,

Second. "Here lies Dickson, here lies he."

The third was put to it for a long time: but, unwilling to loose his share of the guinea, vociferously bawled out, Hallelujah, halleluje !"

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POETRY AND PASTRY.

A German poet, having lately written a gastronomic song upon the pastry of one of the best pastry-cooks of his place, the latter thought he could not better testify his gratitude than by sending him one of the objects he had celebrated in his song. The poet was at first enchanted with the work; but, O grief on finishing the last morsel, he recognized in the paper on which it lay when baked, the copy of his song with which he had testified his homage to the pastry-cook. In a great rage he ran to his shop, and accused him with the crime of lasa poetica. Ah, Sir," replied the artist, not in the least disconcerted, "why so angry? I have only followed your example: you have made a song upon my pastry, and I have made pastry upon your song!"

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SATAN; OR, THE DEVIL AMONG THE

TAILORS.

Some time ago, a French teacher, resident in Oxford, by the name of Ducane, called on Mr. Wickham, a mercer, who lived opposite University College, for a waistcoat piece, but could not recollect the name of the material he wished for. He said that "he thought it was de English for de diable." Mr. Wickham mentioned the several names of his infernal highness, such as Old Nick, Beelzebub, &c. "No, no, it was not dat," was the reply. At length Mr. W. thought of Satan. "O dat is vat vant, said Ducane; "I vant a satan vestcoat."

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