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ebanged his waistcoat before he sought for mistress of the revels; when, and how shall the key, and again before he found it.
we go?" " What have you there, Charles ?" said I, “ To-morrow, if you please," said I : “ and sceing a roll of paper in his band.
suppose you and I go in the chariot, and give “ A beautiful landscape of Margaret Free Margarít a place with the coachiman : we can man's," replied he," which I have run away
takeler in if it rains. Charles may take Bar. with to shew you."
bara in his curricle, aud Millichamp may go My brocher unrolled it. « These are the on horseback." ruios of Fountain's Abbey,” said be; “ Mar.
“ l'il take Margaret in my curricle," said garet bas drawn them very correctly."
Charles, “ I should like very much to see them,” said “ And, Millichamp,” said Barbara, “I Millichamp, after he had attentively examined kuow you can drive a gig to admiration: we the drawing.
will have the rig, and you shall drive me. I “I should like it of all things," said Bar
wil give you a lesson on good manners, and bara. “Now do, my dear Mrs. Oakwood, lat
you shall give me one on driving, as we go us go?"
along “ I have long wished 10
see Fontain's “ If you want a lesson on driving," said Abbey,” replied l; “but I will not leave Mr.; Milichamp, “you might go in the curricle Oakwood again, at present.”
and take one from Mr. Charles, who is much “I am sure," said Barbara, “Mr. Oak b iter qualified to instruct you than I am ; and wood will go with us."
I will drive Margaret.”
No; I never learn any thing, except I
Barbara,” said her brother, “if you wish “ You know very little of me," replied my to learn to drive, you make a very bad choice brother; " or you would know I am very ill in a master. Millichamp may drive a gig, but natured."
give bim a tandem, give him four-in-hand, or “ I positively cannot belicve it," cried she. give bin a pair of my chesnuts, any bow, and “ Look at that handsome face, Millicharp, , you will see what a figure he'll make. I would and tell me if you can discover one trait of ill bet six to four he dashes his carriage to pieces. nature in it. You are not old enough to be | If you want to drive in style, you should learn ill-patured. I declare I should not take you of me. Nobody can manage my chesnuts but to be forty."
“ If I were under forty,” said my brother, “ I think," replied my brother, “ pature “ your flattery and your handsome face miglit intended i hee for a chesnut, and made a misgain their point; but I am on the wrong side take when she gave thee a pair of arms, inof fifty, and proof against all you can say." stead of two additional legs."
“ lf handsome faces have lost their power " I hope she intended me for nothing less over you, brother,” said I, “ let me try mine. than a coachman," returned Charles. «Ionce “ I should be very glad to see Fountain's | drove a pair of fine blood-horses through Abbey."
Wales. I shall never forget what a pleasant “ You try your power so seldom,” replied | party we were; myself and three more young my brother, “ that it is uncontroulable when fellows. You have no soul, Millichamp, or you do. You cannot exert your influence in you would have been deligbted with our exvain ; and I will go whenever you please.” cursion," « Excellent!” cried Barbara.
“ I have one
“I have a soul highly susceptible of the consolation, however; though nobody minda beauties of nature,” said Millichamp, and me now, I may be uncontroulable when I am should have been as much delighted with the fifty."
Welsh mountains as any of you." “ Well, sister,” said my brother, “ you are “We did not pay our devotions to the Welsh
mountain," said Charles; “ our business was || have no opportunity of shewing your wit in to knock down the grouse; but the gratifica. our excursion." tiva I wished to partake of was the last dinner “ By yo means," answered he; “ I should we ate at Aberystwith."
not think of shewiug my wit in the company “ I am so much a stranger to modern of ladies ; and so I will go and take the landsystems," replied Millichamp, “that I did | scape back to Margaret, and ask if she will po! know a soul was requisite to relish a trust herself in my curricie. wonder, Sir," dinner,"
continued he, you
do pot lend her some of " That is a secret your books have never your prints, to copy; she would make charm. taught you,” said Charles; “ but I'll tell yeu | ing drawings from them.” how it was We bespoke every thing in the “ I should wonder more if I did,” replied house, It certainly was a good dinuer, and my brother. “ I have often been surprised at we ate like sportsmen; but that was pot the i he facility with which many persons ask fa. bost of it. We turned the waiter out of the vours, that it is extremely painful either to room, and let nobody wait but our own fellows grant or to deny. Such is that of borrowing We dispatched all the pigrons out of a noble books. In general I have refused the request; pye; filled the dish with fragments of ducks but refusing is so uvpleasant, tbat I have and chickens, fish and lobster sauces, mullou now and then lent books of value. A lady chops, and sweet pudding, and then put the with whom I wis siightly acquainted, mado crust on again. We salted the jellies and 10 difficulty of asking me for an elegant set of peppered the custards. We ate half the fruit Costumes, to cupy some of the figures. I out of ihe taris, mixed the remainder with knew not how to say I will not oblige you, mustard and vinegar; and, putting ihe li's when you know I can. I lent them. At the on, we sent them out, as well as the pigeon | end of three months I ventured to seud for pye, to all appearance untouched. We then them. She returned them; but was so ofrang for the waiter, and wrapping every platefended, she would never speak to me more. and dish, g'ass and decanter in the table. Another time my physician borrowed my cloth, we dashed them on the floor, and or. Shakespeare of 1623, to write out half a dozen derell our bill. Now, I think, that was leaves, which were wanting in his own. I did Aight beyond ihe ancients."
not like to deny him. He cured me of all my “ Beyond any thing I ever read of, aucient disorders : and at last he cured me of lenda or modern," replied Millichamp.
ing books; for he kept it half a year, and “ You uot only svared abuve history,” said it was not without anych trouble that I got my bother “but abuve reason and common it then." sense."
“ I have often wondered," said Millichamp, " But the best of it was,” resumed Charles,
man who would shudder at pickrehat, th: ugh we bid the people make their ing your pocket, should make no scruplo ow.. charge, they could not be recompenced; of borrowing a book, and never return; for we smashed almost all their stuck of glass, ing it." and ear henware, and the poor devils niust “ Thougb that man might not pick your send to Sorewobury, abuve threescore miles, pockel,” said my brother, “he would bore to replace it."
row your money, if he wanted, and never re “I ain -fraid, Charles,” said I, “
turn it." find the prescat party very insipid; you will
(To be continued.)
" that a
ON THE SUPERIORITY OF VOCAL MUSIC OVER INS TRUMENTAL.
FROM THE FRENCH OF COUNT D'echerNAY.
I NEVER suffer my opinion to be biassed one through whose mouth I have been able, by partiality, prejudice, or prevention: I give since my return from Italy, not only to endore myself up to the impressions I receive; I write the French music, but almost to become pas. them down, permit any one to differ from me, sionately fond of it. If it had several such and indeed oppose me.
disciples as him it would be equal to,
and even Whatever may be the merit of instrumental || rival the Italian music; but he was the founmusic, whatever pleasure it may give by the der of a school which had only himself for a vastness of its imitations, and the indetermi professor and a pupil. pale feelings it may produce on the mind His singing in these two cantatas was through the organs of hearing, every one most neither French nor Italian, it was a manner confess that the greatest charm of music lies entirely by itself; he had, in a superior de. in that which we call vocal. Nothing can gree, what the Italians cali il portamento di voce, come
me in competition with the huimau voice; or the art of conducting the voice, and lengih. wind instruments resemble it in a small degree, ening out the cadences, a merit which he but they articulate no:bing. Let us thiok made kuowo to the Frencii singers of that only of the inflections of that voice, which be time. In the meinoirs of Marmontel, Geliote longs to a good sjuger! I will cite only one occupies a place worthy of 'envy, that of the amongst the known proficients at Paris, Ma happiest among mortals! Such is he there demoiselle Colbroon. I never heard any wo described; while so many others, happy in man in Italy superior to her; I prefer her appearance only, are little so in reality. Dur. infinitely to Mesdames Todi, Mara, and Bas- ing the life of a certain Emperor, but whose tardella, all three equally known and estimated name I cannot now well recoilect, who had by the amateurs at Paris. I may cite Nosari reigned fifty years with glory, he could only in a cavetisre of Griselda, which I bave often count, amidst all his long career, one fortnight heard him repeat, whose voice is most perfect, of happiness. Geliote, from the moment of and many others of equal merit; it always his birth to that of his death, experienced appeared to me, as I lis:ened to them, that unalterable felicity. Tais is an example, they were to the most famous Sopranos of Italy / amongst many others, of distributive justice, what an excellent miniature painter is to Ri against the chances and caprices of fortune. gaud, Liotard, or Latour. Only compare a What can be said of a serious l'alian Opera? concert composed of the proficients whom 1 Every body knows that it dissipates the ennui have named, with those we hcar at the French of five long bours in transforming the theatre Opera!
into a place of rendezvous, and assemblies I arrived from Italy, where I had heard and divided into boxes, where instead of listeuiug followed the first proficients, such as Caffarelli, they play, eat and drink, or couverse. They Giziello, Aprile, &c. I was at a concert in only lay down their cards to come forward and Paris where Geliote performed two of his most hear one recitative, accompanied by two or favourite pieces, and which he sang best of three airs, or a duo sang in a superior mauner, any: he did not take them from Operas, but but not played, by an excelleni Soprano or a they were two cantatas of Felider and Pygma- || Prima Donna! lion. The delight which the great Italian Of what use is the serious Italian Opera in Sopranos had given me did not prevent my | exercising interesting composition and goou listening to Geliote with rapture; to a species writing? That, for instance of Apostolo Zeno, of melody which seems entirely abandoned a and above all, Metastasio, siuce they are not the present day, and which the present gene listened to, and cannot be listened to, by their ration bare not the least idea of. What magic want of stage effect, and the ennui caused by is there not in sucb a voice ! What taste, what their long recitativos. nethod in this unequalled singer! the only The comic Opera, which has all the defecte
of the senso. Opera, and is equally luns, i audience listen to those miserable pieces, in yet more insupportable; because the play of which we can scarce conceive how such men the actors has reither elegance, natare, vor as Piccis i, Cimerose, Sacchini, Paesiello, and dignity; and wants iht lively gaiety of Ilie Paer, would even associate their scientific barFrosch comic Opera; it is bombastic and fien mony and seductive melody! ridiculous: and how can the actors make the
“ Do not cry, dear p?pa," said the little ere I continue my narrative, I will request Juliet as she clung round her father's knee; my readers to look back a fiw years, and re. mamma will soo': come back."
trace the circumstances that led to Mr. and Mr Beritun clasped the child wi'l emotion
Mrs. Beritov's present situation and misfor. to his heart, while the tears silently flwed tunes. from beneath a share that covered his eyes, As Vr. Cleland, afier a confinement of some now mournfully closed from ihe glorious light montlıs in France (during the dreadful revoof the sun; day and night were alas equally lation), was lurrying in the gloom of the unknown); and the smiles or tears of his be
evening, disguised by the ussistance of a kind loved wife and child alike unperceived by him friend, to reach a packet that was to waft bim wbo bad till within a f-w months experienced once inore to his long regrelled home and from the effects of the firmer the only conso country, he passed through a narrow lane, latiou during his unmerited misfortunes. his mind agitated by the fear of discovery and In a few minutes Mrs. Beriton entered the
the various ideas that alternately assailed him, cottage; pale and exhausted, she sink in a
he felt liis coat sightly detained by a fecble chair. Juliet ran tuwards ber with infantine
hand, and turning round, be held a child who, delight, and taking hold of her hands tried to in French accents, implored his assistance. climb on her knee; her mother averted her
Mr. Ciland, during his confinement, had suf. face in the hopes of concealing tears that glis. fered so many liardships, and heard and wit. tened in spite of her efforts to restrain them; nessed such dreadful cruelties committed by in turning her head she tret the melancholy the inhabitants of France, that his soul revolt. countenance of her husband; she immediately led at the name of a Frenchman, and bardened conquered the emotion that seemed before to a heart which till then bd always been alive OV«l power her, and advanciug towards him,
to the cry of distress; he shook off the child's inquired in the kindest accenis wheiher he hand, and continued bis pace for a few steps, had wanted any thing during her absence? when he fet the pang that always attends & Mr. Boriton, pressiog her hand, replied in the I feeling mind in the nonperformance of a duty negative. A rilence of a few minutes surceed it has been accustomed to. He cast a glance ed. At last, after some hesitation, he inquired of inquiry towards the spot he had passed; if her walk had been successful? “Betier, my and heheld a sight that instantly recalled him. dear," answered Mrs Beriton, with the forced
The poor little mendicant, enfeebled with the accents of cheerfuloess, “than I could h.ve i want of food, bad in his rude repulse fallen expected; and I trast I shall in a month's ' agaiust the step from which she had risen to time have the comfort of sceing you enjoy the implore bis assistance, and was supporting sea breezes, and deriving from them that be
herself against the wall, the blood trickling in nesit it is my daily prayer you may experience.”large drops from her forebead. Mr. Cleland Ju saying these words, and casting on ber hus- bastened towards her, but ere he had finisbed band a look expressive of the tenderest affec-binding his handkerchief across her temples, tion and concern, Mrs. Beriton hurried out of the child, from debility and loss of blood, the room to indulge for a few minutes the fainted. In the greatest distress (delay being emotions she could no longer repress. But of the utmost importance to his escape and
liberty), he knew not how to act; to abandon agitated him; nor did be recover his usual the little unfortunate in her present situation presence of mind till the bateful shores of the was repugnant to his homane heart, and to country he had suffered so much in were fast wait ber recovery perhaps bis ruin. After receding from bis view: he then remembered some besitation he knocked against the dror his little companion, whom he had not relia. of the bouse from the steps of which the child quished, and wbo had clung to him in wild bad first claimed his notice; it was opened dismay during his short struggle to gain adby a man whose countenance bore the strong. mitlance on board the vessel. Opening bis coat est marks of ferocity, and who demanded with he now relieved her fears, and was more at vulgar insolence what he wanted ?
liberty to view a countenance which till now Mr. Cleland at first shrunk back from bis bis peculiar situation had not permitted him
to attend to. savage appearance; but recollecting himself,
He was astonished at the beauty requested a few drops of water to restore the which shone tbrough so many disadvantages; miserable being he supported.
for though covered with the meauest garments, “Not I," said the hardened wretch with an and pale and enfeebled from the effects of grief oath; "she has asked for that before, and I and the want of proper nourishment, yet the have just beat my wife for attempting to give
elegance of her countenance and gracefulness ber some.
Thanks to Vive la liberte, she is of her form plainly indicated that she descendthe last of that proud family I vowed to be ed from no mean origio. Falling on her knees, revenged on. Her father and mother, the and rising her mild eyes bathed in tears, witla Marquis and Marchioness, were guillotined
innocent earnestuess she entreated him not yesterday; but she being too young to be
to leare her. Mr. Cleland had no such in. thought of any consequence, was suffered to lention, and even bad such a thought suggestescape. And i be poor little fool thought, as
ed itself, he had, in making her the coinpanion my wife had r:ursed her, she should find relief of his flight, rendered it an impossibility; he bere; but I soon evded her bopes in tha! Therefore lost no time in relieving her anxiety, respect, not a morsel of bread shall any one and procuring her a small quantity of nourish. belonging to me give to the child of the man ment, which lie administered with the tenderI hated.”
ness of a father, and soon after was rewarded Mr. Cleland turned from the wre'cb with in seeing the little exhausted sufferer sink disgust, while be shuddered with horror at into a refreshing slumber. He gazed ou the his diabolical expression of mind and coun- sleeping innocent while his thoughts foudly tenance. The violence with wbich he shut reverted to his long lamented home. Was bis the door recalled the fleeting senses of the un beloved wife alive? If so, bow was ber affecfortunate child, whose deep sobs of distress tionate heart distracted with fears for his life were now no longer unheeded by Mr. Cleland, and safety! Now did his fancy fondly pourtray who having no time to deliberate, io the en- | the happiness of their meeting ; and under the thusiasm of the moment, wrapped her in the influeuce of this pleasing vision bis harrassed large coat whiclı served for his disguise, and frame found relief in a temporary slumber by with precipitate steps hurried to the place the side of his prolegée. of appointment. When he arrived there Mr. Cleland was a clergyman of the most all was in a state of confusion ; the packet exemplary character, and blessed with a wife was on the point of sailing; a moment's delay in every respect worthy to be his partner longer would have been fatal to his escape. through life; he was in possession of a small The owner of the packet being his friend, he living in the western part of England, but was by bis adroit management admitted into | baving no family (except a nephew whom he the crowded vessel, while others less fortunatel bad adopted) he lived in the greatest comfort were vainly entreating the same indulgence.
and respectability, beloved by his neighbours, So momentous was his entrance into the and almost adored by the poor, to whom be ship, that his mind was a perfect chaos from was the consoling friend and generous bene the feelings that had within the last hour : factor. No. XXXI. Vol. V_N.S.