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here;” and instantly he few to the same re. ing than handsome, nor did she bear the least treat as his nephew, who seizing his uncle by resemblance to be r brother. Eliza endeavour. the lap 1 of his coat, and dragging him into ed to collect herself, and advancing towards the chamber, said :-“ Aye, uncle, you told the lady, said, how much slie esteem d herself Miss Fitzwarren to take care of your nephew, honoured by the visit from Miss Hartley, but now the nephew will take care of the The sister and brother exchanged a smile. uncle." So saying, he locked him in, threw “Emma,” says he, “has teizeu me to death the key of the door on the little table on which to introduce her to you."_" And yet, indeed," Eliza leaned.-" This is a prime affair,” added said the young lady, “I once hoped to have he, without considering the consequences it
been the pirson who would hare bad the might entail on his beloved Eliza; “ there pleasure of introducing Miss Fitzwarren to will be rare sport, by and by, with angry you; mamima has often talked of her."-Eliza Letty. Come, old girl," said be to her, as he had never, to her kuowledge, seen the mother rushed by when she entered the room, “ in of Hartley; slie did not visit at Mr. Jefferies', with you, good wight."
and she was wondering at the words of Miss Mrs. Umfreville as yet thought nothing; | Einma, whoo Vr. Hartley said:-'Pardon my but the evident confusion of Eliza, and the interrupting you, «ster, we are all guilty of tremor she was in, convinced the beautiful
neglect; pirmit me, Em: a, to introduce to Bacchante, that the visit of the young Theo you Mrs. Uinfrevile, the prettiest bacchante dosius was not of that indifferent nature, as that ever was sten." those morning calls of inquiry which he had “Did you not find, madım,” said Miss made in her company, or when with his aunt Emma, on whose intelligent countenance there and uncle he visited the fair invalid. She was appeared not much admiration of the lady just not displeased at the discovery she imagined introduced to her, “ did you not find the sbe bad made; she knew that she herself must amusement what you wished, that you quilted give up all hopes of making a conquest of the || it so early.”—“Horrid !" said Mrs. Umfreville, handsome Theodosius; and she now resolved, “the warmth of the place was, I am sure, forty if possible, to gain the confidence of Eliza, | degrees beyond that ever experienced under and determined, also, kindly to assist her. he torrid zone. Now I never use rouge." She was not blind te the tenderness Mr. Jef Emma looked unbelieving, and Mr. Hartley feries evinced for her; and if the governess
wbose eccentric character sometimes made was married and fairly out of the way, Mr. him forget the precise etiquette of politeness, Jefferies would ain be als ber own.
said with great sang froid, “I ought you She laid down her mask, took up the key of always did.” Eliza's chamber, twirling it round her finger, “ Pure nature," said Mrs. Unfreville ; “but wbile sbe looked arcbly in the face of the poor as a bacchante, you kuow, my face ouglit to distressed and embarrassed girl. “Come, appear of a high red. Now the heat occa. come, I know what this love is; trust in me, sioned by my mask, in that suffocating place, who am ever your friend; it is in your power has entirely deprived me of what little I added to make an amiable young man, who is become lo my own natural colour. Eliza, my love, let an absolute fool of fashion, every thing that is me go and put on a little in your room; I amiable and excellent. I know Theodosius roomised Lady Eglivtown to sup with her Joves you—Jefferies is a fool, a downwright pvty at one.”—“ You will not find any rouge money loving dolt, tu think of sacrificing such there,” said the confused Eliza. “Oh! 10, I a sweet fellow as Theodosius to that milk and dare say not, my little rus ic," replied Mrs water, sallow looking, muddy eyed thing, Miss | Umfreville; “but I always, on th se occasions, Plevithren, whom I know he hates."
carry Madame Martin's tablettes in my bosom, Just in the midst of the lady's harangue, the her colours have such a fine effect by candleservant ushered in Mr. Hartley and his sister. | light.” The young lady was more genteel and interest
“ For a lady," said Mr. Hartley, rather sar. No. XXX. Vol. V.-N.$.
castically, “who is so much indebted to all | freville suspicious; the room appeared in all bourteous nature, you seem to know all the its accustomed Beatness ; she listened, she various properties of false colours !"
looked carefully round before she began her “ Oh!” said Mrs. Umfreville," it is my dif toilette operations. Unluckily, Mr. Jefferies ferent friends who tell ine of them; and a had a slight cough; this cough increased to woman of fashion cannot possibly exist at one
that degree, that the curtain at the head of the time or other without these requisite aids.
bed was agitated with it. She flew to it, and This is the key of your chamber, my Eliza,”
her former suspicions brought conviction to added she;" I know it well, for I used to sleep
her mind. there before you came.”—“No, madam,” said She dragg d Mr. Jefferies from the place of Eliza, in a tremulous voice; “I do not ihink
his concealment, she smiled malevolently on that is the key, besides,"_“Besides what? him; she untied tbe wreath of ivy wbich was my dear,” said Mrs. Umfreville. “I tell you crossed over her shoulders, and sportively I know it very well.” And as she was putting fluog it round bis neck; “ Resistance is vain," it to the door, Eliza, almost frantic, though
said she, “I expose every thing if you offer pure as innocence itself, agonised at the idea
to make any." And leading him into the ad. of the scene that must ensue, said, “Indeed, joiniog apartment, she scoffugly pointed to madam, you cannot get in, the lock, I believe, him saying, “Behold, ladies, bow I have caught is broke."
this gentleman of the bed.cbamber in my “ All this is very strange,” said Mrs. Um
toils!” freville, turning ibe wards, and Eliza screamed, Not all the powers of the pen or pencil
Pray, madam, desist; let me light you to could do justice to the groupe in Miss FitzMrs. Jefferies' dressing room,-this gentle. warren's dressing room. Eliza Fitzwarren man and lady will excuse me,-judeed,” added
pale and trembling, had sunk on her chair, slie, in a whisper, “the room is in such a litter, and seemed with the utmost difficulty to sup. that,--that when the door is opened, my port herself from fainting, and a deep louk of friends will see it.”—“O no, no, I will take | reproach and concern
was depicted on the care of that,” said Mrs. Umfreville, and rushed countenance of Mr. Hartley, as he struck bis into the room.
forebead, and took the hand of his sister. The agitation of Eliza, rendered Mrs. Um
MEMOIRS OF THE LATE ASTRONOMER, LALANDE.
Tue elder Lalande, the celebrated Pro. nent for the most noble virtues of the heart. fessor of Astronomy, and one of the inost es.
By a very singular perversion of intellect, lie be. traordinary men of his age, was among the came a professed atheist about the commence. first of the distinguished savans, with whom it ment of the French revolution ; pronounced, was my good fortune to become acquainted.l in the year 1793, in the Pantheon, a discourse He died during my residence at Paris, and, against the existence of God, with the red cap after bis decease, had that justice done to his upon his head, and displayed on this subject stupendous powers and acquirements, which, obe most absolute ipsanity during the rest of as it happens to many o!hers, was refused to his life. This monstrous infatuatiou be rayed him during the last years of his life. Lalande, him into the most whimsical acts of extravaif not the most profound and original, was gance, and particularly into the publication of certainly the most learned astronomer of a Dictionary of Atheists, in which he enregis. France, and the principal benefactor of tbe | tered, not only many of "the illustrious dead," science to which he was 60 passionately but a great number of his contemporaries, and, devoted. He was remarkable for the most among these, some of the principal dignitaries egregious vanity, and for the broadest eccen. of the empire. Ericities of character, and almost equally emi Thịs circumstance led to an occurrence in
the Iustitute, which that body will not soon lande, por was any sarant ever rewarded, durforget. At an extraordinary sitting of all the ) ing so long a course of years, with so many classes convoked for the purpose, when La scientific honours, or feasted with more inlande was present, a letter from the Emperor toxicating homage. Before the age of twentywas announced, and read aloud, in wbicb it five, he was admitted into almost all the declared that M. de Lalande had fallen into learned academies of the world, and pensioned a state of dotage, and was forbidden to publish | by the principal monarchs of the Continent. thereafter any thing in his own name. The
He travelled through nearly all the states of old astronomer rose very solemnly, bowed low, Europe, and was every where received with and replied, that be would certainly obey the demonstrations of the most enthusiastic reorders of his Majesty. His atheistical absur- l spect, not only by the learned of every descripdities, deserved no doubt, to be repressed, but, lion, but by all who were most distinguished besides the singularity of this form of inter in rank and fortune. In Italy, upon which he diction, there was an unnecessary degree of wrote the best book of Travels now extant, severity in it, as the end might have been at.
he was overwhelmed with aitentions by Cletained without so public a humiliation. La.
ment XIII. and pursued, from the remotest lande was notoriously superavnuated, and not extremities of that country, by its most distherefore a fit object for this species of punish-tinguished ornaments in every department ment. Some consideration, moreover, was due of knowledge and taste. He found his bust in to his many private virtues, to bis rank in the most of the observatories in Germany, and was scientic world, and to the large additions greeted with the surname of the God of Astrowhich he had made to the stock of human nomy in some of the cities of the Norih. His knowledge. His atheistical opinions arose, || reception in England was of the most flatternot from any moral depravity, but from a ing kind, and in fact all his journies were but positive alienation of mind on religious topics. a contioued succession of brilliant triumphis. He was not the less conspicuous for the most Before he had passed the age of thirty, he disinterested generosity; for warm feelings of numbered among bis correspondents and bis bumanity; for the gentleness of his manners; private friends, some of the reigning Princes før the soundness of his opinions on questions of Germany, and almost every author or of science, and for a certain magnanimity with savant of note in Europe. His works would regard to the merit of his rivals and detrac embrace more than sixty ponderous volames, tors. The extravagance of his opinions and and correspond, by their learning and utility, bis manners during his detage, rendered him to the high reputation which he enjoyed. It an object of universal derision in Paris, and is not therefore much to be wondered at, if the subjected bim to the most cruel and in circumstances of his early life produced that decent inockery. It became fashionable, even delirium of vanity, if may be allowed the amoug ibose who had derived their knowledge expression, which marked his character in the from his lessons, and experienced his bounty, last stage of his career. to depreciate bis merits, both as an astro. In the conversation which I had with bim, nomer and as a mi. Lalande had the mis. not many mouthis before his death, I frefortune of living to see a maxim verified in his quently saw occasion to admire both the brilown regard, which has been exemplified in jancy of bis imagination, and the copiousness every age and country-hat some disciples of his knowledge; but it was imposible to conmay become superior to their masters. But fine him, for any lengtlı of time, to a rational be was, nevertheless, at all times, among the strain of discourse. His mind reverted in. luminaries of science, and to him astronomy cessantly to his favourite theory of atheism, was iudebted for more substantial and un- and to his own personal merits, upon which remitted services, than to any of his contem. he expatiated with a complacency that would poraries.
have been irresistibly ludicrons, if it had not No person of the last century made so bril. exbibited so melancholy a proof of the imhe. liant a debut upon the world of science as La-' cility of human nature, even when most emi
nently gified. When he spoke, however, of || least to deduct that of modesty." His manners republican institutions and of this country, were exreedingly engaging, and his couversahe displayed a liberality of sentiment and tion was enlivened by brilliant sallies, and an ardent attachment to the cause of freedom, by a singular degree of candour and nairette. wbicli, with me, made full amends for bis Lalande addressed a delineation of himself to egotism. His passion for astronomical studies a lady who had promised to write his life. I Qever deserted him. Until the moment of his cannot resist the temptation of transcribing dissolution, he was engaged in deep calcula it for you, as it exhibits an amusing specimen tions, and in the most elaborate researches of the superlative vanity, and for the most He was at all times lavish of his fortune, in
part, a very just picture of the character of favour of the interests of science, and gave to this extraordinary man. the Institute, in the year 1302, a considerable “ I am,” says he,
an enemy of show and sum in perpetuity, the interest of which, was
ostentation ; y amour propre (and every one to be allotted to the person who produced the has his share) bas but one object-literary best work on Astronomy, or made the most
glory. My patience and tmper can witbimportant discov:ry in that science, in the stand any vexations arising either from sickcourse of the year.
ness, disappointment, or injustice. I was present at his funeral, which was at
“I exercise the most liberal iodulgence witla tended by bis brethren of the Institute, and regard to the faults or follies of others. I find rendered particularly solemn by the discourse
every thing good. I can bear pleasantry, pronounced over bis grave. Dupont de Ne
sarcasm, or even slander, but I know how to mours, now one of the most prominent of the rally in my turn. I dislike the common plealiterati of Paris, and wbo, as you may recol sures of this world. I cannot endure gambling, lect, resided at New York a few years ago, 1) shows, or feasts. stepped furth from the crowd, with the tears
“I never go to the play: study, and the Aowing rapidly from his eyes, and, in the course converse of intelligent persons, particularly of of a very touching panegyric on the deceased, well-informed women, are my only amuse. recited acts of benevoleuce, which had fallen ments. Such have been for me, in regular under his own observation, that would have
succession, the meetings of Madle. Geoffrin, done honour to'a Howard. He made one strik. du Bocage, du Defante, de Bourdic, de ing observation, in wbich bis whole auditory | Beauharnais, de Salem, &c. In frequenting appeared to acquiesce at once; that Lalande
their societies, I always go on foot, and somehad more religion than he was conscious of times take long walks ; my object in so doing possessing."
is to encounter mendicants, and I take pleaLalande was below the middle size, and
sure in relieving them. exhibited one of the ugliest faces that I have
I have often lent, and my money has been ever seen. He was, however, not a little vain
rarely returned, but I have never reclaimed it. of his person, and extremely fond of narrat.
My honesty of speech often degenerates into ing the conquesis which he had achieved, in
rudeness. I have never been able to dissemble bis youth, over the hearts of half the Prin
the truth, even when it was calculated to ofcesses of Europe. The egotism which com
fend. I have often fallen out with old friends, in pletely vauquished bis judgment in his old
consequence of refusing them my suffrage at age, blinded him to the absurdity and false.
academic elections. I never could bear the hood of the recital on this head, which he || weight of hatred on my miud; I bave made never failed to make, even to his casual
many enemies by my candour ; but I never visitors. He faucied that he had arrived at
hated, and I have always endeavoured to conciabsolute perfection, and published at various Jiate them. I love whatever contributes to the times a notification to the world, “ that he perfection of mankind, and care very little for possessed all the virtues and good qualities of what contributes to their amusement. buman nature.” A wit of Paris very earnestly “ Gratitude is so deeply implanted in my requested him on one of these occasions," at I heart, that I weep involuntarily whenever Ire-,
collect the proofs which I bave either given or terfered with my studies. They have never received of Ibis feeling. The numerous in made me pay a morning visit. I have some. stances of ingratitude which I have experi- lines said to handsome women, 'It only rests enced, have never diminished the warmth of with you to make me bappy, but it is not in my acknowledgment for favours.
your power to make me miserable.' They tell Among the numerous men who bave ho me that I have never truly loved-granted; if noured me with their friendship, I recollect to love truely it be necessary to turn fool. with pleasure, Montesquieu, Fontenelle, J. J. “I am rick, but I have no caprices nor Rosseau, Dalembert, Clairaui, Maupertuis, La
I bave but few servants, and no Condamine, Voltaire, Reaumur, Euler, Barthe horses ; I am temperate and simple in my lemi, Raynal, Macquer, &c.
habits; I never ride : I can sleep any where. “The last wished me to marry his daugh. || Great opulence or rank would be useless to me. ter. I refused her from a motive of friend
“I am well prepared for death. When I ship to the family; she deserved a better
write a note or a memoir, I say to myself match.
perhaps this is the last; but it is a great grati. “ I am reproached with speaking too often fication for me to render an additional serof myself. I acknowledge this defect, and
vice to astronomy, and to add another stone have no other excuse to offer but my natural to the edifice of my reputation. sincerity and my love of truth. I maintain
“ I am satisfied not only with my physical that it is treason against the community to constitution but with my moral being, with be sileni in relation to the vices of others. It my philosophy, wi-h my sensibility, with my is sacrificing the good, from a mistaken charity | disposition to stigmatize vice, although it has to the bad. I love my family. I have given up to made me many enemies : I enjoy therefore all them the enjoyment of my income, even during the happiness of which bumanity is capable. my life time. I have loved wonen much; | I am one of the most contented men on earth, I love them still. I have always eudeavoured and I can say, as Bayard did, that I feel my to contribute to their improvement; my soul glide away from me satified with her. passion for them has always been reasonable; self."--Travels of an American. they have never injured my fortune, nor in.
THE NEW SYSTEM OF BOTANY, WITH PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF FLORA, &c. &c. &c.
THERE is no country in the univursa, on Thern as in their nature habitat ; and amongst the same scale of ten perature, to wbich na these we may rank the ture may be said to have been more unkind
JASMINE, than to that of England; as far, at least, as regards spontaneous, or rather indigenous for jessamine, of whose native country modern productions. Ytt if she has acted as a step. botanists seem uncertain, though there is no mother with regard to vegetable gifts, she has doubt that the common white jessamine has been bountiful in a race of men whose talents, been cultivated in this kingdom for three cenenterprise, perseverance, and industry have turies; for in the reign of Queen Elizabeth it not only drained the insalubrious marsh, and was in high esteem both for the elegance of clothed the oaked rocks with verdure, but its appearance, and the fragrance of its forets, have also naturalized 10 the English clinate and is then stated by Gerarde, who wrote in both the useful and the elegant of the butany 1597, to have been very common in most parts of almost every clime. Many of these bave been of England. The rich cultivated it with care so long familiarized to our view, that ther first in order to form their arbours, and to wreath its introduction is forgotten, and we consider ceudrils round their garden banqueting.bouses,