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MONUMENT NEAR LUCERNE. The bold and beautiful design copied in our engraving is from a small clay figure, modelled by a Swiss artist, from the original at Lucerne. This is a colossal work cut in the solid rock, close to that city, on the grounds of General Pfyffer. It is from a design furnished by Thorswalden, which is shewn close by, and represents the Helvetian Lion protecting, even in death, the Lilies of France-a figure admirably suited to the occasion it commemorates.
It was executed by the Swiss, in memory of their countrymen who were massacred on the 10th August, 1792, at the Tuilleries, in defending Louis XVI. from the atrocious wretches of the Revolution. The names of those who perished are engraved beneath the lion.
About sixty who were not killed at the moment, were taken prisoners, and conducted to the town-hall of the commons of Paris for summary trial; but the ferocious females who mingled in the mobs of those terrifying times, rushed in bodies to the place with cries of vengeance, and the unhappy men were delivered up to their fury, and every individual murdered on the spot!
"From all sedition, privy conspiracy and rebellionGood Lord deliver us !"
“ TROUBLESOME BABY ! (A Whisper to Elder Sisters, by one of themselves.) ELIZABETH had just parted from some intelligent young friends, who had been eagerly discussing the contents of a popular new work, setting forth the desirableness of mental cultivation. Having exchanged pledges of mutual reform in this particular, Elizabeth returned slowly to the house, meditating various fresh plans for study, with corresponding resolutions to suffer no interruption to their effectual adoption, Hastily flinging off her bonnet and mantle, she hurried to the library, in search of a book sufficiently deep to be placed first on her proposed list. She ruled a copy book for “ Remarks," and wrote the title of the volume, “Professor Powell's History of Natural Philosophy," fair and neat at the top of the page. She then descended to the garden, deeming it more agreeable to read there this fine morning than in the solitude of her own room. Alas! there were circumstances which she had not taken into account.
At the parlour door she met her mamma with an infant in her arms. “My dear Elizabeth !" said Mrs. Ormsby, “I was just wishing for you, I must attend to some work, and baby is not disposed to sleep this morning."
“ Troublesome baby!" exclaimed Elizabeth as she took the child ; and her countenance became so clouded by disappointment, that the little creature missing its mother's smile, began to cry.
“ Mrs. Ormsby, who was leaving the room, returned, saying "I cannot leave the baby to cry, Elizabeth; why do you not try to amuse him, and make him happy ?”
“ Because I want to read, mamma. Why cannot he go to nurse?"
“ Nurse is at this moment washing and dressing the other little ones for a walk; will you take her place ?"
“No, thank you; I should not like that so well.”
“ Will you finish cutting out these shirts for your papa; they are nearly done, and the sempstress will call for them in an hour? She works so hard that I do not like to rob her of her time by keeping her waiting even for a minute."
“I do not like either of these employments, mamma; but, perhaps, nursing baby is the least of the evils, so let me try again, and I will play with him."
When so disposed, Elizabeth could act the part of nurse so admirably, that there was no difficulty in coaxing baby to her care again, when her features beamed with their usual sunny cheerfulness; and the transient fit of ill-humour having passed away, she remarked, half playfully"How convenient it would be if little babies were as independent as kittens and birds are!"
“Nay, my dear!" replied Mrs. Ormsby, as she busily plied. the scizzors, “ You forget that the kitten's infancy is rendered still more helpless by its blindness, and the unfledged nestling must be fed, day after day, at a vast expense of toil and trouble to its nurse."
“ Ah! yes just for a fortnight or a month, but how soon the feathers grow, and the bird can provide for itself, and the kitten lap milk, or catch mice as cleverly as its mother:--but baby will not be independent for years."
" True, and as if feeling its own helplessness, how gratefully it clings to every one that will minister to its necessities:-how happy when its little legs can take it some small errand, or its tiny fingers try to be useful.”
“That is all very pleasant to a mamma, I dare say--for every body says a mother's love is something peculiar; but do you know, I cannot help feeling it rather hard to have the trouble of nursing such stupid little things without any of these wonderful mother's affections to comfort me."
“Oh! that is the grievance, is it?" said Mrs. Ormsby, gently. “Do you find yourself quite prepared to set up an independent life, my child ?”
“Why no, mamma! I am afraid I could not quite earn my own living yet: but why do you ask me is there any thing amiss about papa's business ?”
“No! my love, I trust you will not be put to the test: but if you are still dependent on your parents for some things, do you not think it incumbent on you to afford them what aid you can?”
“Yes, indeed, dear mamma. If I were obliged to go out and work, and you and papa were in distress, I am sure it would
be my pride and pleasure to send you all I could possibly spare from my earnings.”
“I believe it, my dear; but though you are not called to this sacrifice, why should you withhold that sort of aid which is equally acceptable, and more appropriate to our present position ?”
“ What can I do, mamma? I should like to make you and papa another present on your wedding-day, as we did last year. But then you would not be surprised again, and that was a great part of our pleasure in preparing it.”
“ Perhaps we should be still more surprised if you were to offer us the testimony of affection we most desire."
“Oh! how I wish I could guess what that should be! I must consult George and Flora—they are much better guessers than I am."
Away ran Elizabeth with the baby on her shoulders—who laughed and crowed, well pleased with change of scene. George and Flora were busy in their little gardens. Flora took baby and moved him gently in the swing, while Elizabeth unfolded her scheme of the wedding-day present that should exactly meet the wishes of their parents. “What think you of a pretty little desk to keep bills in?” suggested Flora.
“ Mamma never has many bills, and those she always keeps in the pocket of her housekeeping book," interrupted George, “ I know, for she lets me balance her accounts every week. A work-box, with plenty of cotton and thimbles, would seem nearer the mark; for I am sure she must use up her cotton, and wear out her thimbles, with all the stitching she does! But, Elizabeth, as you are most with her now you have left school, I advise you to watch well this next six weeks, and try to find out what will please her best.”
By this time baby was hungry, and his sister carried him to the house, musing over the wedding-day present, and proceeding to the nursery she would fain have resigned her charge; but the artless joy of the little fellow at sight of the spoon and cup, awoke some undefined feeling, which led Elizabeth to feed him herself.
While so engaged her mamma came in, and commended her kind dexterity.