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Granada. In listening to these evening gossipings I have adopting the same course of expediency; and still more in picked up many curious facts, illustrative of the manners setting himself in opposition to the public feeling. of the people and the peculiarities of the neighbourhood. He was the more called upon in prudence to endeavour to These are simple details of simple pleasures; it is the na-conciliate the people, the Comte d'Artois never having been, ture of the place alone that gives them interest and impor- as just observed, at all popular; a fact of which he must, tance. I tread haunted ground, and am surrounded by of course, have been well aware, as he found it necessars, romantie associations. From earliest boyhood, when, on for his own personal safety, to quit France at the outset of the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages of an the Revolution; and when he subsequently returned he old Spanish story about the wars of Granada, that city has must also have known that he was mainly indebted to his ever been a subject of my waking dreams; and often bave brother, and then Sovereign, for any share of public approI trod in fancy the romantic halls of the Alhambra. Be- bation. The Comte d'Artois, when compelled to quit hold for once a day-dream realized; yet I can scarcely cre. France, visited the court of his father-in law, the King of dit my senses, or believe that I do indeed inhabit the palace Sardinia, at Turin, and subsequently other parts of Europe, of Boabdil, and look down from its balconies upon chival. but at length sought an asylum in England, where he re ric Granada. As I loiter through these Oriental chambers, sided for a considerable period. Becoming deeply involved and hear the murmur of fountains and the song of the in pecuniary embarrassments, and some of his creditors benightingale; as I inhale the odour of the rose, and feel the ing very clamorous and urgent, it was found necessary to influence of the balmy climate, I am almost tempted to assign him, as it were, a refuge; and Holyrood House, Ed. fancy myself in the paradise of Mahomet, and that the inburgh, being a privileged place, where the stern ministers plump little Dolores is one of the bright-eyed houris, des of the law could not enter for the purpose of enforcing petined to administer to the happiness of true believers. cuniary claims, it was fixed upon by the British Govern
ment as a residence for the Comte, and some of his family, BRIEF NOTICE OF OUR LATE ROYAL NEIGHBOUR, as he might be there enabled to live without molestation, CHARLES X.
In this respect also the characters of the two surviving This ill-advised and misguided Prince was born the 9th brothers were strongly contrasted-Louis XVIII.contrived October, 1757; he was the youngest of the three brothers, to live at Hartwell, in Buckinghamshire, without being who have successively sat upon the throne of France, (with subject to any of the inconveniences just alluded to, and the short interruption of the nominal reign of Louis maintaining a character which was always considered highXVII.) namely, Louis XVI., Monsieur, afterwards Louis ly respectable, whilst his personal conduct conciliated the XVIII., and the subject of the present article, who was esteem of all those who approached him, or in any way styled the Comte d'Artois, and continued to be so called in came in contact with him. The Comte d'Artois, on the general, up to the period of the restoration of the Bour- other hand, was by no means liked ; there was a hauteur in bons, and the enthronement of Louis XVIII., when, ac- his manner which was not at all pleasing, or calculated to cording to the formal and ancient usage of the French insure him respect or esteem ; and his careless and improCourt, he was styled Monsieur, being then the next brother vident habits, especially situated as he then was, were very of the reigning monarch.
ill adapted to raise his character. There was much symThe Comte d'Artois was married on the 17th November, pathy in England for Louis XVIII. when residing here; but 1773, to the Princess Maria Theresa, daughter of Victor little or none for his brother, the object of the present arAmadeus, third king of Sardinia, and sister to the consort ticle. of Louis XVIII., at which period he was only in the 17th The early habits of the Comte d'Artois were very decidyear of his age. By this Princess, who died at Gratz, in edly at variance with that fervour of religion, or rather of Hungary, the 20 June, 1805, he had two children-Louis devoteeism (if such a word may be used) that seems to have Antoine, Duc d'Angouleme, born the 6th of August, 1775, seized him in advanced life, and which has been even moru who, on his father's accession to the throne, became Dau- injurious to him than his former conduct, though both dephin of France, and who married Maria Theresa Charlotte, cidedly showing the weakness of his mind, or that total his first cousin, the only daughter and only surviving child want of prudence that unites disregard of expediency, of Louis XVI., but by whom he has no issue ; and Henry which is an evidence of a deficiency in wisdom, more espai Charles, Duc de Berri, who married in 1818, Maria Caro- cially in individuals of high station. For the follies of line, danghter of Francis 1., late King of the two Sicilies, youth, there is of course an excuse ; but for those of age, by whom he had two children, viz. Maria Theresa Louisa, in the teeth of experience, there is none, except one can be (called Mademoiselle,) born 28th September, 1819, and found in imbecility or perverseness of mind. Henry Charles Dieudonne Artois, Duc de Bourdeaux, (a It was reserved for the Comte d'Artois, who, previously posthumous Prince,) born the 29th September, 1820. The to the Revolution, (we, of course, mean the ola Revolution,) Duc de Berri was mortally wounded by an assassin, in Pa- incurred great public odium, by setting himself against the ris, on the 14th of February, 1820, and died the following popular feeling, and who mainly contributed, by his conmorning.
duct, to excite a feeling of dislike towards his whole family, The Comte d'Artois was never favourably spoken of with to profit nothing by upwards of forty years' experience, and reference to his domestic relations. On the contrary, he to pursue a precisely similar course (as to effect,) after beacquired a character for dissipation and extravagance, which ing himself, in the order of succession, called to the throue, rendered him highly unpopular, especially when contrasted thereby rendering the French nation so decidedly hostile to with the conduct of Louis XV!. and of Monsieur; for his family that they are doomed to another exile, nerer to though the unfortunate monarch just mentioned fell a vic- return. tim to revolutionary fury, his character, as a man, was not The residence of the Comte d'Artois in England, of course, only untainted, but was highly estimable. Monsieur, also, affords but very scanty materials for biography, as there (afterwards Louis XVIII.,) though somewhat luxuriously was little or no variety, nor any event of importance to de inclined, had conducted himself in a way which secured to scribe. His forced sojourn at Holyrood House was, of nehim considerable public respect, whilst the ease and affabi- cessity, rather monotonous; but, some arrangement having lity of his manners contributed to render him highly popu- been effected with his creditors, he was subsequently enabled lar. He was enabled, in consequence, to brave the first to live at Hartwell, with his brother, Louis XVIII. But storm of the revolution, and it was only when its dema- here there was very little difference between one day gogues hurled their insane fury against the very name of and another, except what was afforded by an occasional royalty, that he took refuge in flight. The amenity of his journey to London, or to other quarters, and these very manners, and the prudence with which he at times yielded rarely. They lived pretty much a retired life, nor could it to popular opinion, subsequently served to sustain him firm- be otherwise; and indeed, for a considerable period, the ly upon the throne, till his final summons from this terres prospect with reference to restoration, seemed so shrouded trial scene; and that conduct materially contributed to show in gloom, that they might have almost calculated upon by contrast the weakness and folly of his successor, in not passing the remainder of their lives in this country.
One of the incidents, however, that occurred, whilst here, may serve to account for the speed and the rapidity with to the Comte d'Artois, deserves to be recorded, namely, which the new Revolution was effected, its progress and the loss by death of a favourite mistress, as it is said to termination having been caleulated upon and arranged. have altered the frame of his mind, and to have brought on
Monsieur, the Comte d'Artois, succeeded his brother as that sort of gloomy moroseness which marked some parts King of France, by the title of Charles X., and made his of his subsequent conduct. We can scarcely persuade our public entry into Paris on the 27th of September, 1824. selves of the truth of this statement, it being by no means
Had be then formed a resolution to be in reality a consti. unfrequent for a weak mind to swerve from one extreme to
tutional sovereign, and adhered to it permanently, the another—from gaiety, and recklessness, and frivolity, to greetings of the people with which he was then hailed gloom, and melancholy, and a feeling bordering on des might have lasted during his life, and all might have been pair ; but even supposing it to be true, it is only an addi- well; but his devotion to priestly influence got the better tional proof of the want of strength of mind, and the ab- of whatever sense he had, and thus was gradually brought sence of that intellectual stamina which befits an individual on the catastrophe. Had he, indeed, at any time, from the for high station. It is not the possession of great talents, period of his accession, to Wednesday the 27th of July or splendid attainments, which is requisite, but merely that when his ordonnances were in their effect deluging Paris good sense which enables a personage so situated to do what with blood, shown a bona fide intention of governing acis right, and proper, and expedient, and thus to secure him-cording to the Charter, and in unison with the principles self a high place in popular opinion. It was in this re
of rational freedom, he might have preserved the crown spect that the Comte d'Artois, in whatever station, was la- upon his head; for even on the day alluded to, had he dientably deficient, and not possessed of, or contemptuously shown himself, and revoked the fatal ordonnances, there is spurning, that tact of which his brother Louis XVIII. so
every reason to believe that tranquillity would have been successfully availed himself. He lost a throne which com.
restored, and his reign continued.
But here was evinced the real weakness of his mind. mon prudence might have enabled him to retain and secure for his family.
He had resolved to possess absolute power without having When the conqueror of great part of Continental Europe the talent to command the means; and, failing in his at was himself in turn conquered, and the pleasing sound of tempt, Charles and the crown of France were for ever serestoration reached the ears of the Bourbons, no time was
vered. It would be useless to recount tbe acts of the short lost by them in setting out for the promised land, and our of his government ; matter of recent history, they are sub
reign of Charles X. (not quite six years), or the measures beach at Dover in loudly cheering Louis XVIII. on his jects of public notoriety. He had to contend with a condeparture for France to take possession of the throne of his siderable party hostile to his rule and to his house, but inancestors. This restoration took place in 1814.
stead of adopting measures of a soothing and conciliatory The Comte d'Artois, then called Monsieur, accompanied nature, his conduct was so irritating and exasperating that his brother, and, of course, as the heir presumptive to the he alienated many of his friends, and at last converted inthrone, became a personage of high importance; but though as his real power
decreased he fancied it had become consi
to enemies very nearly the whole French nation ; whilst exalted at Court, he was by no means popular in the city, derably augmented, and thus he became the dupe and the or in the country.
Again driven, for a time, from the throne, Louis XVIII. victim of his own delusion, and his family were obliged to take refuge at Lille, in con- all that remained the power of mere physical force_was
When his constitutional rule was at an end, and when sequence of the return of Bonaparte from Elba. But the latter being compelled to abdicate, in consequence of the at its last gasp, he imagined it was great enough to oversplendid victory obtained over him by the Duke of Wel awe France, aud only awoke from his dream when he found lington, at Waterloo, on the 18th of June, 1815, the himself a fugitive, condemned to hopeless exile. Bourbons were again restored. Louis XVIII. remained
He had played a desperate game, in which common pruin quiet possession of the throne till his death, on the 16th dence might have whispered him, that he had every thing to of September, 1824. He had hoped that the birth of a lose, and nothing to gain. He had set his all upon the male heir, in the person of the Prince who was subse- hazard of a die, without even the chance of a cast in his quently styled Duc de Bourdeaux, and who received the favour ; and when, acting probably under the instigation of name of Henry, so popular in France, would have secured evil counsellors, he had thus provoked civil war, and dyed the succession in the family of his brother; and there cer
the earth with the blood of the French people, he then, in tainly seemed every probability of it; but the extreme keeping, as it were, with the terrific sketch he had pourfolly of that brother was destined to mar the prospect, discord among the French people, to prolong civil war, and
trayed, endeavoured, as a last resource, to throw the apple of though he was himself still more deeply interested in securing the succession to his own immediate descendants, than
to cause a prodigal expenditure of the blood of his late subhis deceased relative.
jects, as he seems vainly to have imagined, by abdicating In the conduct of the Comte d'Artois, or Monsieur, sub. in favour of his grandson, the Duc de Bourdeaux. But his requent to the second restoration, whilst he was the heir purpose was seen through, and the ruse failed. Had he presumptive, there was nothing particularly striking or
been content with his power as a constitutional king, he remarkable; but he never enjoyed any popularity at all might have transmitted it to his grandson in a constituapproaching to that which was conceded to his brother, his tional manner ; but he had himself, like our James II., sentiments being known too much to approximate to the broken the link of legitimate succession ; and, like the explodel dogmas of the old regime, and his manners and convention Parliament of England, the representatives of deportinent, though polite and courteous, betraying evi- the French nation determined to fill the vacant throne, dence of great constraint, and evincing that he was more
without delay, (and delay would have been highly dangerplaying a character which he had assumed, than speaking ous,) with a Prince of their choice, of the late reigning house. or acting from the bottom of his heart. Whatever might
At the age of 73, Charles X. might have thought himself have been the real sentiments of Louis XVIII. he so effec- too old to go upon his travels ; and had he only uttered tually disguised them (if they were at all hostile to the a few words to the purpose, or issued a few short sen. existing order of things) that the people placed confidence tences to a similar effect, he might have saved himself in hin; but in his brother they never trusted ; on the
the humiliation of a compulsory banishment. It was contrary, they always suspected him of being hostile to the once said of James II., when in exile in France, and new institutions, and their suspicions being confirmed by that, too, by an ecclesiastic, “ There goes a pious gentleman, his ordonnances, they rose as it were en masse, and who gave up three kingdoms for a mass ;” and something drote him from the throne. There is little doubt that the similar may be said of Charles X. Had 'he attended more Duke of Orleans, (now Louis Philippe I.) had been looked to the sound advices of patriotic statesmen, and less to the to as the eventual occupant of the throne, in case of the insidious suggestions of crafty and designing priests, he arbitrary conduct of Charles bringing on a crisis ; and this might still have been King of France..
SOCIAL LIFE IN GLASGOW.
thing about the west country. But there would be no end BY JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART, ESQ.
of it were I to tell you all, &c. Many of our readers must have just seen COBBETT'S rently for forty people rather than for sixteen, which last
“ The dinner was excellent, although calculated appaaccount of Edinburgh and Glasgow, which stares us in the number sat down. Capital salmon, and trout, almost a face in every newspaper, so frequently and familiarly, that rich as salmon, from one of the lochsprime mutton from we forbear to repeat much of him. Mr. Lockhart's pic- Argyleshire, very small and sweet, and indeed ten times turc of his native city is now comparatively rare, and it was
better than half the venison we see in London--veal not
superior-beef of the very first order_some excellent fowls always racy i
in curry_every thing washed down by delicious old Wet « Mr. asked me to dine with him next day, and India Madeira, which went like elixir vita into the appointed me to meet him at the coffeeroom or Exchange, cesses of my stomach, somewhat ruffled in consequence of exactly at a quarter before 5 o'clock, from which place he my riotous living at Edinburgh. A single bottle of hock said he would himself conduct me to his residence. My and another of white hermitage, went round, but I saw rendezvous is a very large, ill-shaped, low-roofed room, plainly that the greater part of the company took then fer surrounded on all sides with green cane chairs, small tables, perry or cider. After dinner, we had two or three bottles and newspapers, and opening by glass folding-doors, upon of port, which the landlord recommended as being real stuff a paved piazza of some extent. This piazza is in fact the Abundance of the same Madeira, but, to my sorrow, no daret Exchange, but the business is done in the adjoining room, -the only wine I ever care for more than half-a-dozen where all the merchants are to be seen at certain hours of glasses of. While the ladies remained in the room there the day, pacing up and down with more or less importance was such a noise and racket of coarse mirth, ill restrained in their strut, according to the situation of their affairs, or by a few airs of sickly sentiment on the part of the hostessy the nature of the bargains of the day. I have seldom seen that I really could not attend to the wine or the dessert ; a more amusing medley. Although I had travelled only but after a little time, a very broad hint from a fat Falstaff
, forty miles from Edinburgh, I could with difficulty persuade near the foot of the table, apparently quite a privileged myself that I was still in the same kingdom. Such roar- character, thank Heaven ! set the ladies out of the room. ing! such cursing ! such peals of discord ! such laughter! The moment after which blessed consummation, the butler. such grotesque attitudes ! such arrogancel such vulgar dis- and footman entered as if by instinct, the one with a hinge regard of all courtesy to a stranger! Here was to be seen punch bowl, and the other with, &c. the counting-house blood, dressed in box-coat, Belcher hand. “ A considerable altercation occurred on the entrance of kerchief, and top-boots, or leather gaiters_discoursing the bowl, the various members of the company civilly etis (Edepol!) about brown sugar and genseng! Here was to treating each other to officiate, exactly like the “ Elder be seen the counting-house dandy, with whalebone stays, in Burns' poem of the Holy Fair, “ bothering from side to stiff neckcloth, surtout, Cossacks, a spur on his heel, a gold- side” about the saying of grace. A middle-aged gentleman headed cane on his wrist, and a Kent on his head-mincing was at length prevailed upon to draw “ the china" before primly to his brother dandy some question about pullicate him, and the knowing manner in which he forthwith biber handkerchiefs. Here was to be seen the counting-house gan to arrange all his materials, impressed me at once with bear, with a grin, and a voice like a glass-blower. Here, the idea that he was completely master of the noble science above all, was to be seen the Glasgow litterateur, striding of making a bowl. The bowl itself was really a beautiful in his corner, with a pale face and an air of exquisite ab- piece of porcelain. It was what is called a double botel, straction, meditating, no doubt, some high paragraph for the that is, the coloured surface was cased in another of pum Chronicle, or perchance, some pamphlet against Dr. Chal- white net-work, through which the red and blue flowers. mers! Here, in a word, were to be seen abundant varie- and trees shone out most beautifully. The sugar being ! ties of folly and presumption—abundant airs of plebianism melted with a little cold water, the artist squeezed about a I was now in the coffeeroom of Glasgow.
dozen lemons through a wooden strainer, and then poured “ My friend soon joined me, and observing, from the ap- in water enough almost to fill the bowl. In this state the pearance of my countenance, that I was contemplating the liquor goes by the name of sherbet, and a few of the conscene with some disgust, My good fellow,' said he, you noisseurs in his immediate neighbourhood were requested are just like every other well-educated stranger that comes to give their opinion of it-for in the mixing of the sher into this town, you cannot endure the first sight of us mer- bet lies, according to the Glasgow creed, at least one-half cantile whelps. Do not, however, be alarmed; I will not of the whole battle. This being approved by an andible introduce you to any of these cattle at dinner. No, sir, smack from the lips of the umpires, the rum was added you must know that there are a few men of refinement and the beverage, I suppose
, in something about the proportion polite information in this city. I have warned two or three of one to seven. Last of all, the maker cut a few limest of these rare aves, and depend upon it, you shall have a and running each section rapidly round the rim of his very snug day's work. So saying, he took my arm, and bowl, squeezed in enough of this more delicate acid to fix, observing that five was just on the chap, hurried me through vour the whole composition. In this consists the true tours several streets and lanes till we arrived in the —, where de-maitre of the punch-maker. Upon tasting it, I could his house is situated. His wife was, I perceived, quite the not refuse the tribute of my warmest admiration to our acfine lady, and withal a little of the blue-stocking. Mearing complished artist_s0 cool, so balmy, so refreshing a comthat I had just come from Edinburgh, she remarked that pound of sweets and sours never before descended into my Glasgow would certainly be seen to much disadvantage af. stomach. Had Mahomet, &c. ter that elegant city. «Indeed,' said she, 'a person of taste “ The punch being fairly made, the real business of the must of course find many disagreeables connected with a evening commenced, and, giving its due weight to the halresidence in such a town as this; but Mr. L's business samic influence of the fluid, I must say that the behaviour renders the thing necessary for the present, and one cannot of the company was such as to remove almost entirely the make a silk purse of a sow's ear-he, he, he !' Another prejudices I had conceived in consequence of their first ap. lady of the company carried this affectation still further. She pearance and external manners. In the course of talk, I pretended to be quite ignorant of Glasgow and its inhabi- found that the coarseness which had most offended me was fauts, although she had lived among them the greater part nothing but a kind of waggish disguise, assumed as the coof her life and, by the by, she seemed to be no chicken. vering of minds keenly alive to the ridiculous, and there I was afterwards told by my friend, the major, that this fore studious to avoid all appearance of finery-an article damsel had in reality sojourned a winter or two at Edin- which they are aware always seems absurd when exhibited burgh, in the capacity of lick-spittle, or toad-eater, to a lady by persons of their profession. In short, I was amongst of quality, to whom she had rendered herself amusing by a set of genuinely shrewd, clever, sarcastic, fellows, all of malicious tongue ; and that during this short absence she them completely up lo trap--all of them good-natured and had embraced the opportunity of utterly forgetting every friendly in their dispositions—and all of them inclined to
take their full share in the laugh against their own pecu- | as a master workman in any trade, unless he is admitted liarities. Some subjects, besides, of political intent, were as a freeman or member of the craft; and such is the staintroduced and discussed in a tone of great good sense and tionary condition of most parts of Germany, that no person maderation. As for wit, I must say there was no want of is admitted as a master workman in any trade, except to it, in particular from the privileged character' I have al- | supply the place of some one deceased, or retired from buready noticed,
There was a breadth and quaintness of siness. When such a vacancy occurs, all those desirous of humour about this gentleman which gave me infinite de- being permitted to fill it present a piece of work, executed light; and, on the whole, I was really much disposed, at as well as they are able to do it, which is called their mastile end of the evening (for we never looked near the draw- ter-piece, being offered to obtain the place of a master working-room) to congratulate myself as having made a good ex man. Nominally, the best workman gets the place, but change for the self-suficient young Whig coxcombs of Edin- in reality, some kind of favouritism must generally decide burgh. Such is the danger of trusting too much to first impres- it. Thus is every man obliged to submit to all the chances sions. The Glasgow people would, in general, do well to of a popular election whether he shall be allowed to work assume as their motto, Fronti nulla fides ;' and yet there for his bread; and that, too, in a country where the people are not a few of them whose faces I should be very sorry to are not permitted to have any agency in choosing their see things different from what they are."-Peter's Letters. rulers. But the restraints on journeymen in that country
are still more oppressive. As soon as the years of apprenPORTRAIT OF AN INTELLIGENT AND VIRTUOUS ticeship have expired, the young mechanic is obliged, in the ARTISAN
phrase of the country, to wander for three years. For this BY ELLIOTT OF SHEFFIELD.
purpose he is furnished, by the master of the craft in which Alas! Miles Gordon ne'er will walk again!
he has served his apprenticeship, with a duly-authenticated But his poor grandson's footsteps wakes thy tear,
wandering-book, with which he goes forth to seek employAs if indeed thy long-lost friend were near.
ment. In whatever city he arrives, on presenting himsulf Here oft, with fading cheek, and thoughtful brow, with his credential, at the house of call, or harbor, of the Wanders the youth, town-bred, but desert-born ;
craft in which he has served his time, he is allowed, gratis, Too early taught life's deepening woes to know, a day's food and a night's lodging. If he wishes to get He wakes in sorrow with the weeping morn,
employment in that place, he is assisted in procuring it. And gives much labour for a little corn.
If he does not wish to get employment, or fails in the atIn smoke and dust, from hopeless day to day,
tempt, he must pursue his wandering; and this lasts for He sweats to bloat the harpies of the soil,
three years before he can be anywhere admitted as a magWho jail no victim, while his pangs can pay
ter. It is argued, that this system has the advantage of Untaxing rent, and trehly taxing toil,
circulating knowledge from place to place, and imparting They make the labour of his hands their spoil,
to the young artizan the fruits of travel and intercourse And grind him fiercely; but he still can get
with the world. But, however beneficial travelling may A crust of wheaten bread, despite their frowns ;
be, when undertaken by those who have the taste and caThey have not sent him, like a pauper yet,
pacity to profit by it, to compel every young man who has For work house wages, as they send their clowns; just served out his time to leave his liome, in the manner I Such tactics do not answer yet in towns;
have described, must bring his habits and morals into peril, Nor have they gorged his soul. Thrall though he be and be regarded rather as a hardship than as an advantages Of brutes who bite him, while he feeds them, still There is no sanctuary of virtue like home. --Many of the He feels his intellectual dignity;
German stories, which are of a more homely cast than ours, Works hard, reads usefully, with no mean skill
turn upon the circumstances of the wanderings of a young Writes; and can reason well of good and ill.
mechanic, who, if he is to turn out well, comes home at the He hoards his weekly groat. His tear is shed
conclusion to his native city, an adept in his trade, and For sorrows which his hard-worn hand relieves.
either marries his master's daughter, or some young maiden Too poor, too proud, too just, too wise to wed,
to whom he had been affianced before he set out on these (For slaves enough already toil for thieves,)
dangerous travels. How gratefully his growing mind receives The food which tyrants struggle to withhold!
British BENEVOLENCE.—The income of the principal Though hourly ills his every sense in vade,
Religious Societies supported by voluntary contributions, Beneath the cloud that o'er his home is rolled,
for the year ending May, 1832, has been as follows :He yet respects the power which man hath made,
British and Foreign Bible Sociсty....
.£81,700 Nor loathes the despot-humbling sons of trade.
Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society.
48,200 -But when the silent Sabbath-day arrives,
Church Missionary Society..........
48,700 He seeks the cottage bordering on the moor,
London Missionary Society..................
... 31,500 London Hibernian Society.
9,800 Where his forefathers passed their lowly lives,
Society for Promoting Christianity among the Jews...... 11,000 Where still his mother dwells, content, though poor, British and Foreign Seamen and Soldiers' Friend i ociety.. 500 And ever glad to meet him at the door.
Religious Tract Society..
3,300 Oh, with what rapture he prepares to fly
Irish Evangelical Society..
3,000 From streets and courts, with crime and sorrow strewed,
Home Missionary Society.
4,000 And Side the mountain lift him to the sky!
Naval and Military Bible Society.................... 2,700
2,700 How proud to feel his heart not all subdued!
Prayer Book and Hornily Society..
2,500 How happy to shake hands with solitude!
1,900 Still, Nature, still he loves thy uplands brown,
Port of London Society..... The rock that o'er his father's freehold towers!
Christian Instruction Society.. And strangers hurrying through the dingy town,
Ecelesiastical Knowledge Society.. Jay know his workshop by its sweet wild-flowers,
Sunday School Society.
London Itinerant Society.. Cropped on the Sabbath from the hedge-side bowers.
Society for the Observance of the Lord's Day...
2-10 CRAFTSMEN OF GERMANY.
The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign The different crafts in Germany are incorporations re- Parts, the Society for Promoting Religious Knowledge nised by law, governed by usages of great antiquity, with among the Poor, the Baptist Missionary Society, and varia foud to defray the corporate expenses; and in each con ous other minor institutions, not making up their annual arable town a house of entertainment is selected as the accounts in May, are not included in the above summary. knuse of all, or harbor, as it is styled, of each particular If these were added, the gross amount contributed volun. Chai Thus we see, in the German towns, a number of tarily in this country, for the support of religious institutaverns indicated by their signs, as the Masons' Harbor, tions for general purposes, would exceed 1.300,000 an. ibe Blackanitbs' Harbor, &c. No one is allowed to set up 'nually
700 600 4,10 310 390
COLUMN FOR THE LADIES.
She could no longer weep now.
He wrote to her once more“ I am convinced you THE SPINNING WHEEL SONG.
can never exist without loving ; but am I the only nian BY MISS MITFORD.
in the world ?-try to love somebody else, and, prithee! FAIR Janet sits beside her wheel
do live." No maiden better knew
She reflected upon it for about half a day, and did To pile upon the circling reel
live. An even thread, and true.
Now, gentle reader, and without presumption, let me But since for Rob she 'gan to pine, ask you" Who's the Dupe ?"
F. E. She twists her flax in vain ;
A GOOD WOMAN.--Extract from the Statistical Ac. "Tis now too coarse, and now too fine,
count of the Parish of Whithorn, by the late Dr. Isake And now 'tis snapt in twain.
Davidson." Mrs Macmillan, widow of Bailie Anthony Robin, a bachelor professid,
Macmillan, late of this burgh, died this year (1794) in her At love and lovers laughs,
hundredth year. She lived in this parish, and near neighAnd o'er the bowl, with reckless jest,
bourhood of it, all her life, and was connected with some His pretty spinster quaffs ;
of the best families of the county. Her age is well authen. Then while, all sobbing, Janet cries,
ticated. She left two sons, one of them a present magis. “ She scorns the fickle swain,"
trate in the burgh, and two daughters. Upon inquiry, I With angry haste her wheel she plies,
have found that Mrs Macmillan was blessed with a good And snaps the thread again !
natural temper, and was always the friend of peace; that
she enjoyed an easy and uniform flow of spirits, and was MY COACH ACQUAINTANCE.
greatly esteemed by her neighbours as a person of the best
moral character. She was remarkable for cleanliness in BEAUTIFUL girll although I may never
her person, at her table, and in her house, and to the end of Behold shining on me again thy fair face: Though short our acquaintance has been, yet for ever,
life shewed great attention to her dress. To all her other Thy form and thy tones in my heart shall have place.
accomplishments she added those of religion, the duties of
which she performed with an attention and zeal highly The coach' has now stopt--and alas! I must stop, too, worthy of imitation. Religion appeared in her with a
And the spell thy sweet spirit has cast over mine, smiling countenance, guided her honourably through the I must tear away-and my trunk from the top, too different stages of life, and ministered to her joy in its even
And start off in a route quite different from thine. ing. Her sense of duty led her to industry; and her reli. Blest be the fortune that brought us together;
gious principles and feelings bestowed upon her contentAnd blest be the showers that drove me inside ;
ment, and cheerful trust in God. She lived like a saint,
and died like a Christian heroine." Guard, that's my trunk—that one covered with leather,
And that's my umbrella stuck there by its side.
COBBETT ON EDINBURGH.--I now come back to this de Said soft things, and all things I thought would please thee; lightful and beautiful city. I thought that Bristol, takGood by; a safe journey—when you think about it,
ing in its heights and Clifton and its rocks and river, was O, join with the thought some remembrance of me.
the finest city in the world; but it is nothing to EdinC. M.
burgh, with its castle, its hills, its pretty little seaport, con
veniently detached from it, its vale of rich land lying all SHE AND HE;
Around, its lofty hills in the background, its views across the OR, Who's THE DUPE.
Frith. I think little of its streets and its rows of fine houses, She was handsome ;
though all built of stone, and though every thing in LonHe was tender.
don and Bath is beggary to these ; I think nothing of She turning her dark languishing eyes upon him, one
Holyrood House ; but I think a great deal of the fine day for the space of five minutes,
and well-ordered streets of shops; of the regularity which He said to her, “ I love you ;"
you perceive everywhere in the management of business ; She replied, “ Je le crois bien, mais que je vous plain." and I think still more of the absence of all that foppish. He said to her next day, “I shall die if you do not con
ness, and that affectation of carelessness, and that insodescend to love me ;"
lent assumption of superiority, that you see in almost all She answered, “ Live on!"
the young men that you meet with in the fashionable parts Ile did live !
of the great towns in England. I was not disappointed : She was more than delighted to have thus restored him for I expected to find Edinburgh the finest city in the to life.
kingdom. Conversations at Newcastle, and with many Ile for a whole fortnight seemed only to prize it, that Scotch gentlemen for years past, bad prepared me for this from henceforth it might be devoted to her.
the reality has greatly surpassed every idea that I She fancied, at the end of a month, his gratitude was
had formed about it. The people, however, still exceed not quite so warm, and suspected, not without cause, that the place ; here all is civility; you do not meet with rudehe had courted new dangers elsewhere.
ness, or even with the want of a disposition to oblige, even She questioned him of it.
in persons in the lowest state of life. A friend took me He quite laughed at the notion. Dangers ! said he ; do round the environs of the city; he had a turnpike ticket, you then funcy I run into real ones ? Should I have died received at the first gate, which cleared five or six gates. think you, had you not have loved me? and would you, he had it. When I saw that, I said to myself, * Nota
It was sufficient for him to tell the future gate-keepers that par example, be silly enough to die, if I were indeed to leave you?-Bah!
bene: Gate-keepers take people's word in Scotland; a She replied not a word.-she blushed, then grew pale, thing that I have not seen before since I left Long Island." and could hardly refrain shedding tears.
-Cobbett's Register. He wrote to her saying, “he had altered his mind-it THE PLEASURES OF EXPECTATION.-A drunken was a thing common enough, and for her part what could fellow, at a late hour in the night, was sitting in the she do that was better ?"
middle of the Place Vendome. A friend of his happening She returned not a line.
to pass, recognised him, and said, “ Well, what do you do He wrote to her again--"I know that you are suffer- here, why don't you go home " The drunkard rephed, ing—I was told of it yesterday-—'tis really quite childish "My good fellow, 'tis just what I want-(hiccup)—buit, (pooh, pooh)--call sense to your aid I will see you to the place is all going round—Chiccup)—and I'm waiting morrow."
for my door to go by."