in which the trade are coyly dabbling, have followed its example; and doubtless, in these days of reform, the musical world will be purified of its exclusiveness, and the works of musicians become as open to every one as those of writers and painters. Mozart's 'Don Giovanni' is now puplishing in threepenny numbers, arranged by Mr Barnett; this is a good beginning. We hope the intire works of Paesiello, Winter, Gluck, Rossini, and other great German and Italian writers will follow. Meantime good selections are the most desirable, and effect a more rapid spread of a knowledge of good music. It was lucky that the first work that set the example of suiting its price to the means of the public was good, and has stood its ground; otherwise the failure of the thing might have been looked upon as a proof of the fallacy of the reasons that led to the attempt. The Musical Library 'is cheap, beautifully got up, and selected with taste and discrimination. Every part has something of the best in it; something for likings exclusively English, something for the lovers of the truly Italian style, something for those who delight in the profundity of the modern German school. A supplement of letter-press accompanies the monthly parts, with comments on the music they contain, and notices of musical occurrences of the day. We would object, generally, that, in the arrangements for the Musical Library,' too much is sacrificed to exceeding facility of execution, which makes the accompaniments sometimes less full than they might be: we could also wish, for our own parts, that a little more concerted music from the dramatic Italian and German writers were introduced. There are many of Mozart's finest pieces, many among Rossini's best performances, that are not at all too difficult to enter into a selection for the most general uses. And may we entreat speedily for a few specimens of Gluck and Winter, particu-, larly some of the latter's affecting compositions in the 'Ratto di Proserpina,' which is an easy straightforward work, and most beautiful? The current Number of the Musical Library' contains, among the instrumental music, an Air and Variations by Beethoven It reminds us of the in his most original manner. Theme and Variations in his 'Septuor;' the two things are very different, but obviously by the same master hand;-three of Handel's finest choruses arranged for the pianoforte; and the wonderful overture to 'Don Giovanni.' What a pity that the still more wonderful introduction into which it should run, which finishes with that beautiful trio for three basses, could not have been given us with it. It is difficult, perhaps, but not impossible; and its beauty would pay for any amount of difficulty. Among the vocal music is a pleasing ballad by Arne, and a sweet glee by Spofforth, the sweetest of glee writers. The tenderness and beauty of this one are not to be surpassed in anything of the kind. It was written, we believe, in C, for a counter-tenor, tenor, and two basses; but, for more general convenience it has been re-arranged, in A three sharps, for two trebles, alto, and bass; it goes very well so, and is certainly better suited to family parties; by this arrangement the ladies are not excluded, and that is the chief thing. A memoir of the composer is in the Supplement. SONNET. TO MY FIRE. My little chirping fire, companion gay, Sweet is thy precept in that listening hour; Thou seem'st to tell me with thy quiet mirth How good is hope-regret how little worth :— And perfect is thy love;-if Fate but lower A The cold world leaves us,-thou, with kindlier turn, THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. [FROM Mr Godwin's Lives of the Necromancers,' A more melancholy tale does not occur in the an- The poor wretches had been but a short time in The last was effected; the other plans, by some means, we The prisoners were kept in jail till the summer The other prisoners were severally indicted for her what she desired. She said the death of John Ro- From the whole of this story it is fair to infer that began to think that they were worthy objects of detestation and terror, that their imprecations had a real effect, and their curses killed. The brown horrors of the forest were favourable to visions, and they sometimes almost believed that they met the foe of mankind in the night. But, when Elizabeth Device actually saw her grandchild of nine years old placed in the witness-box, with the intention of consigning her to a public and ignominious end, then the reveries of the imagination vanished, and she deeply felt the reality, that, where she had been somewhat imposing on the child in devilish sport, she had been whetting the dagger that was to take her own life, and dig her own grave. It was then no wonder that she uttered a preternatural yell and poured curses from her heart. It must have been almost beyond human endurance to hear the cry of her despair, and to witness the curses and agony in which it vented itself. Twenty-two years elapsed after this scene, when a wretched man of the name of Edmund Robinson, conceived, on the same spot, the scheme of making himself a profitable speculation from the same source. He trained his son, eleven years of age, and furnished him with the necessary instructions. He taught him to say that one day in the fields he had met with two dogs, which he urged on to hunt a hare. They would not budge; and he in revenge tied them to a bush and whipped them; when suddenly one of them was transformed into an old woman and the other into a child-a witch and her imp. This story succeeded so well that his son had an eye that could distinguish a witch by sight, and he took him round to the neighbouring churches, where he placed him standing on a bench after service, and bade him look round and see what he could observe. The device, however clumsy, succeeded, and no less than seventeen persons were apprehended at the boy's election, and conducted to Lancaster Castle. These seventeen persons were tried at the assizes and found guilty; but the judge, whose name has unfortunately been lost, unlike Sir James Altham and Sir Edward Bromley, saw something in the case that excited his suspicion, and, though the juries had not hesitated in any one instance, respited the convicts, and sent up a report of the affair to the government. Twenty-two years, on this occasion, had not elapsed in vain. Four of the prisoners were, by the judge's recommendation, sent for to the metropolis, and were examined, first by the king's physician, and then by Charles the Ist, in person. The boy's story was strictly scrutinized. In fine, he confessed that it was all an imposture; and the whole seventeen received the royal pardon. TABLE TALK. Bad Translations.-Madame de la Fayette (authoress of some of the French Fairy Tales') used to compare a bad translation to a footman sent with a compliment from his mistress; what she had directed him to say in the most polite terms, he quite murders by his bungling rusticity in delivering it; and the more delicate the message is the more it is sure to suffer from the ignorance of such a messenger. Involuntary Trip to the West Indies.-A frigate, returning from a cruise, came off Plymouth, and the Captain invited a few friends to dine on board, promising them a sail, as it was a fine day. They went and enjoyed it much; but as they were tacking to return to port, a cutter came up with an order from government, for him to sail instantly to the West Indies, with some sealed packets to the Admiral on that station. There was nothing to be done, therefore, but to take his company with him, and give them such a view of the West Indies as they neither expected nor wished to have.-The Ship. Ancient Reform Schedule.-In old times people used to put a written schedule of their sins under the cloth which covered the altar of a favourite saint, accompanied by a donation; and, in a day or two after, re-examined the schedule, which the virtues of the saint converted to a blank.-Fosbrooke's British Monachism. TO CORRESPONDENTS. OUR Correspondents will excuse us this once. It is Christmas time, and good friends make allowances. Several articles have been delayed by the press of immediate matter till next week, when we shall bring up all arrears remaining at the end of 1834. To one Correspondent, however, a Lady, we cannot help making our acknowledgments for the letter received from Wales, accompanied with apologies no less needless in themselves than welcome and delight. ful for the spirit that dictated them. LONDON: Published by H. HOOPER, 13, Pall Mall East, From the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street. LONDON JOURNAL. TO ASSIST THE INQUIRING, ANIMATE THE STRUGGLING, AND SYMPATHIZE WITH ALL. writer's meaning. It is in the passage where Christianity is spoken of as a "GREAT EVENT." This event, says the passage as it stands in print, "has had a wonderful effect on the world, and still has, even in the workings of its apparently unfilial daughter, Modern Philosophy, who could never have been what she is, but for the doctrine of boundless Deity, grafted upon the elegant selfreference of the Greeks, and the patriotism of the Romans, which was so often a mere pretext for the most unneighbourly injustice. Now so great an event must have been in the contemplation of Providence," &c. out the sun will halt in the sky, and prudent men sharply consider whether they have need of common perception. Without entering into politics, something is to be said, now-a-days, for an Englishman's being averse to making presents; and, as it behoves us to make the best of a bad thing, reasons might be shown also, In the same article, instead of "the Handel and Corelli," read why it is not so well to have a formal and official sort Instead of the word "Deity" in this passage, it should have been sympathy. "Handel and Corelli." NEW YEARS' DAY. NEW YEAR'S GIFTS. THE WASSAIL-BOWL. ALL the Christmas holidays have, or may have, if they please, some things in common, such as mincepies, plum-puddings, holly-boughs, and games of play; but the three principal ones have each their indispensable accompaniment,-Christmas Day its log on the fire-New-Year's Day its wassail-bowl -Twelfth Night its cake. Every man may think he begins a New Year purely by entering into the 1st of January; but he is mistaken. The New Year is no more to him than the old one-the 1st of January nothing different from the 31st of December. The poor man walks in error. People, if they could, have a right to hustle him back again into the preceding week, and ask him what business he has out of his twelve-month. Formerly, everybody made presents on NewYear's Day, as they still do in Paris, where our lively neighbours turn the whole metropolis into a world of cakes, sweetmeats, jewellery, aud all sorts of gifts and greetings. The Puritans checked that custom, out of a notion that it was superstitious, and because the heathens did it; which was an odd reason, and might have abolished many other innocent and laudable practices-eating itself, for one-and going to bed. Innumerable are the authorities which (had we lived in those days) we would have brought up in behalf of those two customs, in answer to the New-Year's-Day-knockingdown folios of Mr Prynne, the great "blasphemer of custard." Unfortunately, if the Puritans thought gift-giving superstitious, the increasing spirit of commerce was too well inclined to admit half its epithet, and regard the practice as, at least, superfluous-a thing over and above-and what was not always productive of a "consideration." "Nothing's given for nothing now-a-days," as the saying is. Nay, it is doubtful whether next to nothing will always be given for something. There are people, we are credibly informed, taken for persons "well to do" in the world, and of respectable characters, who will even turn over the pages of the LONDON JOURNAL, and narrowly investigate whether there is enough wit, learning, philosophy, lives, travels, poetry, voyages, and romances in it, for three half-pence. From the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street.] of day for making presents, as to leave them to more spontaneous occasions. Besides, if every body gives, and everybody receives, where, it may be asked, is the compliment? and how are people to know whether they would have given or received anything, had it not been the custom ? How are they to be sure, whether a very petty present is not a positive insult, till they compare it with what has been received by others? And how are men in office and power to be sure that in the gifts of their inferiors there is anything but mere selfseeking and bribery? It was formerly the custom in England to load princes and ministers with NewYear's Gifts. Queen Elizabeth, who had the soul of a mantua-maker as well as of a monarch, received whole wardrobes of gowns and caps, as well as caskets of jewellery. What a day must she have passed of it, with all the fine things spread out before her! And, yet with all her just estimation of herself, and her vanity to boot, bitter suspicions must occasionally have crossed her, that all this was but so much self-interest appealing to self-love. But or an Earl did not send a suppose a Duke gift good enough. Here was ground for anger and jealousy, and all the pleasure-spoiling self-will which sees no good in what is given it, provided something be wanting. Dryden addressed some verses on New Year's Day to Lord Chancellor Hyde (Clarendon), which he begins as follows: My Lord, While flattering crowds officiously appear Here was a blow (not very well considered perhaps) at the self-complacency induced by the receipt of great presents!" Suppose Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst, or Lord Chancellor Brougham, had similar presents sent them on the like occasion. How could the one be sure that his great legal knowledge, or the other, that even his great genius, and tact for all knowledge, had anything to do with the compli ment? or that it was not as mere a trick for courtfavour, as any thing which they would now despise? We grant, that (where there is any right to bestow it at all) a present is a present; that it is an addition to one's stock, and, at all events, a com PRICE THREE HALFPEnce. pliment to one's influence; and influence is often it own proof of a right to be complimented; as want of influence is sometimes a greater. But, for the sake of fair play among mankind, every advantage must have its drawback; and it is a drawback on the power to confer benefits, that it cannot always be sure of the motives of those who do it honour. If a day is to be set apart for such manifestations of good will, the birth-day would seem better for them than New-Year's Day. The compliment would be more particular and personal; others might not know of it, and so would not grudge it; and real affections would thus be indulged, not mere cere monies. We own that we think there is something in that distinction. Yet our sprightly-blooded neighbours would no doubt have replies to all these arguments; and, for our part, we are for cutting the knot of the difficulty thus:-Make us all rich enough, and then we could indulge ourselves both on the New-Year's Day and the birth-day, both on the general occasion, and the particular one. For, to say the truth, we people who are not rich, and who, therefore, have nothing perhaps worth withholding, are long in coming to understand how it is that rich people can resist these anniversary opportunities of putting delight into the eyes of their friends and dependents, and distributing their toys and utilities on all sides of them. Presents (properly so called) are great ties to gratitude, and therefore great increasers of power and influence, especially if they are of such a kind as to be constantly before the eye, thus producing an everlasting association of pleasant ideas with the giver. They tell the receiver that he is worth something in the giver's eyes; and thus the worth of the giver becomes twenty-fold. Nor do we say this sneeringly, or in disparagement of the selflove which must of necessity be, more or less, mixed up with everyone's nature; for the most disinterested love would have nothing to act upon without it; and the most generous people in the world, such as most consult the pleasure of others before their own, must lose their very identity and personal consciousness, before they can lose a strong sense of themselves, and, consequently, a strong desire to be pleased. Oh, but rich people, it will be said, are not always so rich as they are supposed to be; and even when they are, they find plenty of calls upon their riches, without going out of their way to encourage them. They have establishments to keep up, heaps of servants, &c.; their wives and families are expensive; and then they are cheated beyond measure. Making allowances for all this, and granting in some instances that wealth itself be poor, considering the demands upon it, nevertheless for the most part real wealth must be real wealth; that is to say, must have a great deal more than enough. You do not find that a rich man (unless he is a miser) hesitates to make a great many presents to himself, books, jewels, horses, clothes, furniture, wines, or whatever the thing may be that he cares most for; and he must cease to do this (we mean of course in its superfluity) before he talks of his inability to make presents to others. Allow us to add a few maxims for those who make presents, whether on New-Year's-day or birth-day. If the present is to be very exquisite indeed, and no mortification will be mixed up with the receipt of it, out of pure inability to make an equal one, or from any other cause, the rule has often been laid down. It should be something useful, beautiful, costly, and rare. It is generally an elegance, however, to omit the costliness. The rarity is the great point, because riches itself cannot always command it, and the peculiarity of the compliment is the greater. Rare present to rare person. If you are rich, it is a good rule in general to make a rich present; that is to say, one equal, or at least not dishonourable to your means; otherwise you set your riches above your friendship and generosity; which is a mean mistake. Among equals, it is a good rule not to exceed the equality of resources; otherwise there is a chance of giving greater mortification than pleasure, unless to a mean mind; and it does not become a generous one to care for having advantages over a mind like that. But a rich man may make a present far richer than can be made him in return, provided the receiver be as generous and understanding as he, and knows that there will be no mistake on either side. In this case, an opportunity of giving himself great delight is afforded to the rich man; but he can only have, or bestow it, under those circumstances. On the other hand, a poor man, if he is generous, and understood to be so, may make the very poorest of presents, and give it an exquisite value; for his heart and his understanding will accompany it; and the very daring to send his straw, will show that he has a spirit above his means, and such as could bestow and enrich the costliest present. But the certainty of to permit themselves to receive it; otherwise we For present-making, then, upon New-Year's Day, malt-liquor (we fancy we see several pleasant faces instantly, over this paper, looking their resolution to have it some in porcelain and some in common ware); but, in no case must the roasted apples be his being thus 'generous, and having this spirit, forgotten; they are the sine-qua-non of the Wassailbowl, as the Wassail-bowl is of the day-and very pleasant they are, provided they are not mixed up too much with the beverage,-balmy, comfortable, and different, a sort of meat in the drink,-but innocent withal, and reminding you of the orchards. They mix their flavour with the beverage, and the beverage with them, giving a new meaning to the line of the poet : must be very great. It would be the miserablest and most despicable of all mistakes, and, in all probability, the most self-betraying too, to send a poor present under a shabby pretence. With no sort of presents must there be pretence. People must not say (and say falsely) that they could get no other, or that they could afford no better; nor must they affect to think better of the present than it is worth; nor, above all, keep asking about it after it is given, how you like it, whether you find it useful, &e. It is often better to give no present at all than one beneath your means;-always, should there be a misgiving on the side of the bestower. One present in the course of a life is generosity from some: from others it is but a sacrifice made to avoid giving more. To receive a present handsomely and in a right spirit, even when you have none to give in return, is to give one in return. We must not send presents to strangers (except of a very common and trifling nature, and not without some sort of warrant even then) unless we are sure of our own right and good motives in sending it, and of the right and inelination, too, which they would have "The gentler apple's winy juice;" For both winy and "gentler" have they become by Throw off your reserves, then, dear people, and be Radicals; and cry one and all with the poet whom I pray thee by the Gods above, Moore's Anacreon. THE WEEK. From Wednesday the 31st December, to Tuesday the 6th of January. NEW YEAR'S EVE AND NEW YEAR'S DAY NEW-YEAR'S DAY AT A HOUSE IN D-SHIRE. SIR,-I am one who have formerly read with great delight your essays on Christmas and other holidayand wishes that you would not let it pass by, without keeping; and the approach of this time-honoured season is beginning to stir up within me many hopes resuming so interesting and inspiring a subject. [Our correspondent, whose recollections are very flattering to us, will see that we have done what he wished.] I humbly hope that you may be gratified by the following description of a New-Year's morning which I witnessed at a house in D-shire, where the door has not been barred upon good old customs, and where Old Christmas is still welcomed and supported by a remnant of sincere and affectionate retainers. I am, sir, Your constant reader and admirer, N. B. This pleasing little masque was principally 1831. NEW-YEAR'S MORNING AT R As the clock struck nine in the morning of NewYear's-day, the doors of the drawing-room were thrown open, and the family and friends entered, followed by the household. A most pleasing surprise seized upon all: at the farther end of the apartment appeared a group of allegorical personages. Janus, on a pedestal, with an altar before him smoking with incense; Aurora, on his left, with the "bright morning-star, day's harbinger," and on his right, winged, and bearing a rural crown, stood, smiling in youthful beauty, the Angel of Peace. Now entered a train of villagers, gaily and tastefully decorated, preceded by a banner, inscribed→→ "WE WISH YOU A HAPPY NEW-YEAR." Fair Venus sends the myrtle bough, Old Saturn sends his hoary sprig, So shall thy years with wisdom dwell, Ceres presents the golden ear, By summer suns embrowned; : . Gay Bacchus laughing bared his brow, Of ivy wreathed with vine, That high thy generous cup may flow, With rosy sparkling wine. Hygea sends her healing balm, (The richest boon yet giv'n) That health may sweeten all thy joys, And bid them taste of Heaven. The master then received the baskets of NewYear's Gifts. Each was accompanied with a billet, containing the name of the person for whom it was intended, and of the one who presented it; the billet also contained some wish or compliment, poetically expressed, and the gifts were distributed to the guests as directed. NEW-YEAR'S DAY IN GERMANY. (From Goethe's Memoirs of Himself.') It was in the beginning of the new year-a day on which the general bustle, occasioned by the visits of congratulation, set the whole city in motion. Το us children this day always afforded a pleasure long and eagerly wished for at our grandfather's house, where we used to assemble by break of day, to hear a concert performed by all the musicians belonging to the town, the military bands, and all who had any pretensions to handle flute, clarionet, and haut-boy. We were intrusted to distribute new-year's gifts to the people of the ground story: the number of receivers and the crowd of visitors hourly increased. Relations and confidential persons came first; functionaries and people in subordinate situations came next; and even the members of the senate would not fail to pay their respects to their pretor. A select party used to sup in the evening in the diningroom, which was scarcely ever opened again during the remainder of the year. We were particularly delighted, as will easily be believed, with the tarts, biscuits, macaroons, and sweet wines distributed on the occasion. In short, on this anniversary we enjoyed, on a small scale, everything that is usual on the celebration of more pompous festivals. PASSAGES ON NEW-YEAR'S EVE, AND NEW-YEAR'S DAY. (From Brand's ' Popular Antiquities.') 6 There was an ancient custom, which is yet retained in many places, on New Year's Eve: young women went about with a Wassail bowl of spiced ale, with some sort of verses that were sung by them as they went from door to door. Wassail is derived from the Anglo-Saxon væl hæl, be in health. "The Wassail Bowl," says Warton, "is Shakspeare's gossip's bowl, in the Midsummer's Night's Dream,' Act I. Scene I. The composition was ale, nutmeg, sugar, toast, and roasted crabs or apples. It was also called Lamb's Wool." It appears from Thomas de la Moore ( Vita Edw. II.') and old Havillian (in 'Architren.' Lib. 2.) that was-haile and drinc-heil were the usual ancient phrases of quaffing among the English and synonymous with the "Come, here's to you," and "I'll pledge you," of the present day. It was unnecessary to add, that they accepted little presents on the occasion from the houses at which they stopped to pay this annual congratulation. "The The learned Selden, in his Table-Talk,' (article Pope'), gives a good description of it. Pope," says he, "in sending relicks to Princes, does as wenches do to their Wassails at New Year's tide; they present you with a cup, and you must drink of a slabey stuff-but the meaning is, you must give them money, ten times more than it is worth." Verstegan gives the subsequent etymology of Wassail:-"As was is our verb of the preter-imperfect tense, or preter-perfect tense, signifying have been, so was, being the same verb in the imperative mood and now pronounced wase, is as much as to say grow, or become; and waesheal, by corruption of pronunciation, afterwards came to be wassail."- Restitution of Decayed Intelligence,' edit. London, 1653, 8vo. p. 101. Ben Jonson personifies it thus: "Enter Wassel. like a neat semster and songster, her page bearing a brown bowl drest with ribbands and rosemary before her." careful to end the old year well, so they are no less solicitous of making a good beginning of the new one. The old one is ended with a hearty compotation; the new one is opened with the custom of sending presents, which are termed New Year's Gifts, to friends and acquaintances." He resolves both customs into superstitions, as being observed that the succeeding year ought to be prosperous and successful. The poet Naogeorgus is cited by Hospinian, as telling us, that it was usual in his time for friends to present each other with a New Year's Gift; for the husband to give to his wife; parents to their children; and masters to their servants, &c.; a custom derived to the Christian world from the times of Gentileism. The superstition condemned in this by the ancient fathers, lay in the idea of these gifts being considered as omens of success for the ensuing year. In this sense also, and in this sense alone, could they have answered the benevolent compliments of wishing each other a happy New Year. Dr Morison tells us, that in Scotland, it was in his time the custom to send New Year's Gifts on New Year's Eve, but that on New Year's Day they wished each other a happy day, and asked New Year's Gifts. I believe it is still usual in Northumberland for persons to ask for a New Year's Gift. In the Statistical Account of Scotland,' Edinb. 1793, 8vo., vol. vii., p. 488, Parishes of Cross, &c., County of Orkney, New Year's Gifts occur under the titles of "Christmas Presents," and as given to servant-maids by their masters. Ibid, p. 489, we read; "There is a large stone, about nine or ten feet high, and four broad, placed upright in a plain, in the isle of North Ronaldshag; but no tradition is preserved concerning it, whether erected in memory of any signal event, or for the purpose of administering justice, or for religious worship. The writer of this (the parish priest) has seen fifty of the inhabitants assembled there on the first day of the year, and dancing in the moonlight with no other music than their own singing." ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE. NO. LI.—HER IMPERIAL HIGHNESS MADAME D'AUBAND. 6 (From Recollections of Seven Years in the Mauritius.') CHARLOTTE CHRISTINA SOPHIA DE WOLFENBUTTEL, wife of Czarovitz Alexis, son of Peter I, was unfortunately an object of aversion to her husband, although beautiful and amiable. In a fit of passion, he maturely confined with a dead child. The Countess gave her one day a blow which caused her to be preof Konnismark, who attended on the princess, being aware that if she recovered she would only be exposed to further acts of violence, determined to declare that she had died. The Czarovitz, to whom this was agreeable news, ordered her immediate interment; couriers were dispatched to inform the Czar of the event, and all the courts of Europe went into mourning. The princess escaped to America with an aged domestic, who passed for her father, and a female attendant. While she was living in privacy in Louisiana, an officer of the name of D'Auband, who had seen her in Russia, recollected her, and made her an offer of his services. Soon after they heard that the Czarovitz was dead, and D'Auband then engaged to conduct the princess back to Russia; but she found herself happier in a private station, and declared her intention of remaining in retirement. The old domestic dying about this time, she was without any protector, and D'Auband, who had been long attatched to her, offered her his hand;-she accepted it. Thus she, who had been destined to wear the imperial diadem, became the wife of a lieutenant of infantry. The princess had no reason to regret her second marriage ;-happy in the affection of a man she had wedded from choice, she lived in uninterrupted peace and comfort ten years, without a wish to mingle again in the splendid scenes where she had known The ingenious remarker on this representation observes, that it is the figure of the old Wassail-Bowl, so much the delight of our hardy ancestors, who on the vigil of the New Year, never failed to assemble round the glowing hearth with their cheerful neigh-only misery; but D'Auband fell into ill health, and bours, and then, in the spicy Wassel-Bowl (which testified the goodness of their hearts), drowned every former animosity, an example worthy modern imitation.” "As the vulgar," says Browne, "are always very his wife, anxious above all things for his recovery, proposed that they should go to France to procure the best medical advice, and to try the effect of a change of climate. They accordingly embarked for his native land, and soon after he was restored to health. He then solicited an employment in the Isle of France, where he was appointed Major. The princess, however, previous to quitting France, had been recognized by the Marshal de Saxe, who, after having called on her, and heard the story of her adventures, informed his king of the discovery he had made. His Majesty desired his Minister of Marine to write to the Governor of the Mauritius, directing that every mark of distinction should be showered on Monsieur and Madame D'Auband, and that they should always be treated with the highest consideration. These orders, we are told, were punctually obeyed; the princess lived in tranquil happiness in that island until 1747, when her beloved husband died; she then returned to Paris, where she lived to a great age. What a change of fortune did this lady experience! and how exactly the reverse was the change of Madame de Maintenon, who, from the condition of a private individual, a desolate widow, became the first female at the brilliant court of Louis XIV, and, eventually, was elevated to the dignity of Queen, although not publicly acknowledged such! She, who was born in a prison, and whose early years were passed in poverty and obscurity, was afterwards the dispenser of honours and emoluments!-to whom statesmen, generals, authors, applied for places and for pensions! She, too, passed part of her life in a distant colony, but that was before she had known splendour and rank. The Russian princess went into exile, after having experienced the insufficiency of exalted station to confer happiness; the morning of her days passed amidst the glitter of a court where she was miserable ;-peaceful and happy was her decline in the privacy she had chosen. Madame de Maintenon, in all the plentitude of her power, and the magnificence which surrounded her, perhaps had reason to look back with regret on the time when she was the poor but distinguished widow of Scarron; distinguished by her talents, not by her station;— in the evening of her life, she acknowledged that she had never known real happiness, whilst she was supposed to have attained the summit of earthly felicity. "There are the fields, the woods, the rivulet, the cottage hearth," it would seem to say, as, leaning forward its aged summit, it appears to render all farther progress impracticable; “ go to them by some other outlet, or despise not the useful stepping-stone over which you pass." Nor is the request without its reasonable foundation, for it is not the beauty of the stile, nor its convenience, which you have taken so long a walk to contemplate; the ripe meadows around, the rich woods beyond, the bright heavens above, all call forth ejaculations of delight, whilst the stile--the poor, the decayed, the insignificant stile is stept over in silence, or merely observed, to call forth exclamations against its age, its awkwardness, and its "stu pidity." Alas! there are stepping-stones in this world of ours, whose "Shape is human, and whose soul's immortal." But, it may be said, would not open spaces answer the same purpose? For thy convenience, dear reader, perchance they might (though, if thou art a true lover of the country, thou couldst not but grieve at the demolishing of so rustic and picturesque a feature in her beauty), yet what would not the owners of the land suffer from the absence of this useful incumbrance? What would prevent strange cattle from invading their pastures, or their own from straying from the meadow to the corn-field or the neighbouring road? At least so thought one of them, who was once a near neighbour of ours. The land he owned was considerable, and all but one small portion of it was left to him undisturbed. Now this small portion, dear reader, lay immediately below our little village; indeed, a path through it led to a few picturesque habitations which stood in its suburbs. About midway between the two stood a stile (methinks I behold it at this moment, so many have been the anxious glances cast towards it as we hastened on to satisfy our impatient hopes), and a stile it was of most formidable pretensions; nay, we even came to the conclusion, when obliged to clamber over its summit, that, of all awkward stiles, it was, assuredly, the most awkward. Now this fact appeared to me universally admitted, for rarely did a morning dawn but an opening had been made beside it, through the adjoining hedge, for the convenience of the passenger, at the expense of him who was its rightful owner. Again to replace the broken and dilapidated barrier became at length impossible. What was to be done? The proprietor of this most unaccommodating accommodation was by no means a man to put up with injury and encroachments upon his property, and it was therefore not long ere a pile of huge stones leant against its massive post; but what was the consequence? morning dawned, and the hedge was surrounded by its former protectors; evening, and all was again secure: once more the sun arose, and once more the barrier was pulled down. Once more the sun descended, and once more the fortification was erected, but to no avail; it seemed as though that luminary itself undermined its foundation, for, with its appearance, there it continually lay prostrate and unavailing, without offering one clue to the offender. That stile has been the cause of many a laugh of lightness. It was there that a young friend of ours, never passed a stile unnoticed, and seldom without Then, again, how many are the reminiscences of on. Then, too, how delightful, especially to the rejoiced at the facility which the steps attached to it But I have sometimes seen large masses of stone And now, dear reader, adieu! I have said that the stile is ofttimes the witness of farewell scenes, and there shall ours take place. Perchance, thou art tired of so long and dull a dissertation ; but despise not the e To judge from the specimen plate before us, w should imagine everyone interested in planting would find the Arboretum Britannicum' the best of guides in that absorbing pursuit. Here we have the features of the tree in detail, in representations of the fruit and leaves, very clearly and judiciously engraved, while we see the figure the whole tree will cut in a full-length portrait on a smaller scale. Making a fixed scale, too, for all the engravings, perfects the idea of such a work, as thus a just impression may be got of the proportion of the sizes of the various plants. Mr Loudon was one of the first, if we mistake not, to set the example of making large demands on the resources of the artist to enforce the descriptions in the text; these verbal descriptions must ever be vague and uncertain; a mere portrait of a thing tells us little of its nature or innate properties; if these two are joined, we know all about it at once. The practice is gaining ground considerably. Prudent Sensibility.—The relations of a Dutch heiress, who had run away with an Englishman, addressed an advertisement to her in the papers, requesting, that if she would not return to her disconsolate parents, she would at least send back the key of the tea-chest, which she had carried away with her. TO CORRESPONDENTS. SEVERAL articles and letters have been unavoidably delayed for the last two weeks. Among them is a notice of Miss Landon's new novel, Francesca Carrara,' a production full of interesting remarks for reflection. Several other interesting books have been received, and will be duly noticed. We are sorry that the above reason has also forced us to postpone the conclusion of Mr Simpson's Chapter on Education' till the new year; but it will very well stand by itself, as a separate article, for UN JEUNE MARI speedily. And the Birth of Poesy, the receipt of which we ought to have acknowledged before; but we hoped to have before inserted it. We are thankful for the honour done us by the descending the opposite hill one delicious moonlight subject, I entreat thee, though thou shouldst the inscription of the Fall of the Fairies' in the Green night, humming one of his fresh-from- London airs, and endeavouring to clear it a bound, dashed into a deep pool of mud which had collected at its foot ;— it was there that another took refuge from the fancied pursuit of some ladies he imagined following, who, from particular causes, he wished not to meet, to find that it was his own party he was so assiduously avoiding;-it was there that the stile-leaper was put to the test;-it was there that the most dexterous assistance was necessary to the timid girl who ventured to encounter it ;-it was the stile of stiles, yet we all loved it, for to what a prospect did it lead! It was the entrance-gate to nature's own chamber, where she had collected with truest taste something of everything that was beautiful on earth. I have loved a stile ever since I first saw my venerable and beloved parent spring one, to the shame and astonishment of my then youthful brothers. Well do I remember it. We had all spent the day in that most delightful of employments, nutting, and were returning triumphant, followed by the produce of our exertions, when a stile presented itself before us: "For shame!" exclaimed my father, perceiving my elder brother preparing leisurely to mount it, "For shame! leap it at once." The attempt was made, but in vain; his companion assayed it also, but with as little success. "Stand back," said my father, in his own deep, sonorous voice, and the next moment he was some paces on the other side. My brothers laughed (it was all they could) and scrambled over. "Ah," sighed my father, walking on, you should have seen me in my young days;" and he smiled from delightful recollections. Since that hour I have 66 handler of it; and if thou art thus weary, sit thee FINE ARTS, Arboretum Britannicum; or Portraits to a Scale of a MR LOUDON, whose zeal in the cause of domestic and The title explains the nature of the work. One of ock Intelligencer,'-a poem with dainty bits in it. We have, unfortunately, mislaid the contribution forwarded to us by our friend of the Amici Club; but shall no doubt recover it. The Country Churchyard' would have been inserted, but it waited for the conclusion promised us by the writer. The remarks' On Scandal' are very true, but hardly novel enough for publication. R.F.E. shall be attended to. We thank J. W. A.; but he is mistaken in thinking that we were desirous of receiving translations already published. The Death of the Year' and The Song of the Fairies' are creditable to the feeling and fancy of the writers; but we have so many verses sent us of a like merit, that we are often obliged to deny ourselves the pleasure of gratifying the authors by their insertion, because we cannot do equal justice to all. With regard to the flattering request made us in one of the letters, circumstances will not at present allow us to insert the whole of it; but if the book in question be sent us, addressed to our Publisher, we will do what we can. We should be happy to notice the book mentioned by GEORGE H., but have not received it. Our young friend who writes on the Eleusinian Mysteries,' cannot do better than continue his studies, but his remarks have not yet sufficient interest for publication. LONDON: Published by H. HOOPER, 13, Pall Mall East. From the Steam-Press of C. & W. REYNELL, Little Pulteney-street. |