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writer's fancy seems equally at home in scenes of all the grave of a suicide. The “confessions" themselves gay, joyous and brilliant nature. “The Bayadere"_|are good only so far as they are illustrated by the ediis full of exquisite descriptions of Oriental luxury, and tor's narrative. Of that narrative we will give a short resembles without being inferior to thein, some of the abstract. A Scotch country gentleman, some century brighter passages in Moore's Lalla Rookh. The shorter and a half ago, marries a fanatical predestinarian wife, poems abound in the same pure and delicate senti- || by whom he has a son, and they separate and then ments, expressed with equal simplicity and beauty. || she has another. The elder boy,George, is a fine, frank, Our extracts have already been so copious that we dare | generous youth-the younger, Robert, a sour, darknot begin again to mark any passages for quotation. | minded, and rigid fanatic. Robert takes it into his We have been told that L. E. L. is a very young and head to pester and torment his brother on all occasions, accomplished female. If this be the case we shall feel | and particularly at his sports :a still higher admiration of her poetry, which we consider as superior in nearly all the true characteristics of

“ George took him for some impertinent student of divi

nity, rather set upon a joke than any thing else. He perpoetry, to that of any other living female. Indeed, the Il ceived a lad with black clothes, and a methodistical face, youth and diligence of the authoress gives us reason whose countenance and eye he disliked exceedingly, several to look for the day, when her real name shall be pre

times in his way, and that was all the notice he took of kiin fixed to the productions of her pen, and when they

the first time they two met. But the next day, and every

succeeding one, the same devilish-looking youth attended shall be hailed by all as a source of delight and pride | him as constantly as his shadow; was always in his way as to her country. This is very enthusiastic praisebut with intention to impede him, and ever and anon his deep we are sure it will be echoed by every one who reads

and malignant eye met those of his elder brother with a the volume we have noticed.

glance so fierce that it sometimes startled him.

“ The black-coated youth set up his cap before, brought

his heavy brows over his deep dark eyes, put his hands in • The Literary Gazette.

the pockets of his black plush breeches, and stepped a little farther into the semi-circle, immediately on his brother's

right hand, than he had ever ventured to do before. There The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner. || he set himself firm on his legs, and with a face as demure as Written by Himself. London : Longman and Co. 8vo.

death, seemed determined to keep his ground. He pre

tended to be following the ball with his eyes; but every 1824.

moment they were glancing aside at George. One of the

competitors chanced to say rashly, in the moment of exThis is another Scotch novel. These Scotch are

ultation, That's a

d d fine blow, George !! On which after all a very curious race. Their general character the intruder took up the word, as characteristic of the comis plodding dulness, but it is dulness" with a dif. Il petitors, and repeated it every stroke that was given, makference." When once, by any extraordinary excite

ing such a ludicrous use of it, that several of the on-lookers

were compelled to laugh immoderately; but the players ment, they are animated into great intellectual motion,

were terribly nettled at it, as he really contrived, by dint of they continue in that motion by the mere vis inertia for sliding in some canonical terms, to render the competitors a surprising length of time. Thus is it with them at pre and their game ridiculous. sent in the way of novel writing. Half a century ago they

" But matters at length came to a crisis that put them

beyond sport. George, in flying backward to gain the exhibited the same spectacle in political economy and

point at which the ball was going to light, came inadvermetaphysics. After having been started on their ca | tently so rudely in contact with this obstreperous interloper, reer, how steadily they rolled along through every that he not only overthrew him, but also got a grievous fall difficulty, moral and physical, until they were lost in

over his legs; and, as he arose, the other made a spurn at

him with his foot, which, if it had hit to its aim, would unthe obscure depths of their own profound speculations.

doubtedly have finished the course of the young laird of The mania for novels is on them at present, and it Dalcastle and Balgrennan. George, being irritated beyond rages with an alarming intenseness. Where and when measure, as may well be conceived, especially at the deadly it will end, we dare not venture to prognosticate. So Il stroke aimed at him, struck the assailant with his racket,

rather slightly, but so that his mouth and nose gushed out long as paper, pen and ink abound, so long as the

blood; and, at the same time, he said, turning to his cronies, booksellers will buy, or the public read-orrather so long - Does any of you know who the infernal puppy is ? as any money is to be made by the artists—just so

16 • Do you not know, Sir ?'” said one of the on-lookers, long will the general madness continue. As part of

| a stranger: • The gentleman is your own brother, Sir-Mr.

Robert Wringbim Colwan ! the reading public, we are quite indifferent about the

** No, not Colwan, Sir,' said Robert, putting his hand matter, since we are not obliged to read—nolens in his pockets, and setting himself still farther forward than volens : but as reviewers are often at a loss for mate before, not a Colwan, Sir; henceforth I disclaim the rials—we are glad to see volume after volume tumble

name.' .

"No, certainly not,' repeated George : “My mother's from the press, and cry sunto perpetuæ.

son you may be,-but not a Colwan! There you are right.' The novel before us is a curious work enough. It || Then turning round to his informer, he said, Mercy be is a sort of pendant to a hoax in Blackwood's Maga- | about us, Sir! is this the crazy minister's son from Glaszine, The main idea is very German in its character,

" In the meantime, young Wringhim was an object to all of and not unlike that of the “ Devil's Elixir"-noticed in the uttermost disgust. The blood flowing from his mouth our last. It purports to be “ the confessions" found in and nose he took no pains to stem, neither did he so much

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as wipe it away; so that it spread over all his cheeks, and ceiving that he was the same being as myself! The clothes breast, even off at his toes. In that state did he take up his | were the same to the smallest item. The form was the station in the middle of the competitors; and he did not now | same; the apparent age; the colour of the hair; the eyes; keep his place, but ran about, impeding every one who at- || and, as far as recollection could serve me from viewing my tempted to make at the ball. They loaded him with exe own features in a glass, the features too were the very same. crations, but it availed nothing; he seemed courting per- || I conceived at first, that I saw a vision, and that my guarsecution and buffetings, keeping steadfastly to his old joke of || dian angel had appeared to me at this important era of my damnation, and marring the game so completely, that, in || life; but this singular being read my thoughts in my looks, spite of every effort on the part of the players, he forced | anticipating the very words that I was going to utter." them to stop their game, and give it up. He was such a

He fancies the stranger to be Peter the Great in rueful-looking object, covered with blood, that none of them had the heart to kick him, although it appeared the only

disguise, and passing under the name of Gil-Martin. thing he wanted: and as for George, he said not another of his residence and pursuits he can discover nothing. word to him, either in anger or reproof."

Gil-Martin becomes his religious adviser, and shapes Edinburgh was at this time full of dissensions be- || his conduct as he pleases. He invites him to commit tween the Whigs and Jacobites, and the former took up a murder on religious pretexts-sets him a heartily the cause of Robert Colwan against his brother. brother George, and finally aids in his murder also. After many disputes, and one serious tight,--the matter

The writing here is singularly forcible. Gil-Martin is became somewhat forgotten, when one night George

of course the Devil himself, or an impersonation of the Colwan is found murdered, and one of his young com

fanatical feelings of poor Colwan. After his obtaining panions is suspected, and in his absence condemned.

the lairdship, he commits all sorts of crimes at the The father loses his senses and dies, and then succeeds

instigation of Gil-Martin. Drunkenness, seduction, young Colwan to the laird hip and estate. All these in

murder and parricide, are in the catalogue. But Gilcidents are described at length, with considerable power.

Martin is a treacherous friend. He constantly insti. Young Colwan is suspected by an old housekeeper of|| gates to crime, and yet he is always at hand to betray his father's to be the guilty person, and this suspicion is

his victim. Escaping from the officers of justice, he justified by strong evidence. Sundry other crimes are

wanders in destitution and despair throughout Scotland laid to his charge. Just as the officers of justice are

officers of justice are l and into England. Here is a passage describing some enquiring for him, he is missed, and never heard of || of his sufferings :more. Then follows “ the confessions," which are “ The scene that ensued is neither to be described, nor

written by Robert Colwan after his believed, if it were. I was momently surrounded by a numescape. It is a singular exposition of the effects of | ber of hideous fiends, who gnashed on me with their teeth.

and clenched their crimson paws in my face; and at the fanaticism on the human character. He describes his

same instant I was seized by the collar of my coat behind, early life, and the religious tuition of his mother and by my dreaded and devoted friend, who pushed me on, and, a bigotted preacher, her friend, and supposed by many with his gilded rapier waving and brandishing around me, to be his real father. He narrates his own misdeeds of

| defended me against all their united attacks. Horrible as

my assailants were in appearance, (and they had all moncruelty, malignity, and calumny. He becomes ac

strous shapes,) I felt that I would rather have fallen into quainted with a mysterious youth, who continues with their hands, than thus be led away captive by my defender him through life, and gives the cast to all his actions. at his will and pleasure, without having the right or power This is the account of their first meeting :

to say my life, or any part of my will was my own. I could

not even thank him for his potent guardianship, but bung " As I thus wended my way, I beheld a young man of a down my head, and moved on I knew not whither, like a mysterious appearance coming towards me. I tried to shun criminal led to execution, and still the infernal combat conhim, being bent on my own contemplations; but he cast tinued, till about the dawning, at wbich time I looked up himself in my way, so that I could not well avoid him; and and all the fiends were expelled but one, who kept at a dismore than that, I felt a sort of invisible power that drew me tance; and still my persecutor and defender pushed me by towards him, something like the force of enchantment, the neck before him. which I could not resist. As we approached each other, “ At length he desired me to sit down and take some our eyes met, and I can never describe the strange sensa rest, with which I complied, for I had great need of it, and tions that thrilled through my whole frame at that impreg. wanted the power to withstand what he desired. There, sive moment; a moment to me fraught with the most tre for a whole morning did he detain me, tormenting me with mendous consequences: the beginning of a series of adven reflections on the past, and pointing out the horrors of the tures which has puzzled myself, and will puzzle the world future, until a thousand times I wished myself non-existent. when I am no more in it. That time will now soon arrive, I have attached myself to your wayward fortune,' said he; sooner than any one can devise who knows not the tumul | . and it has been my ruin as well as thine. Ungrateful a of my thoughts, and the labour of my spirit; and when it you are, I cannot give you up to be devoured: but this is a hath come and passed over--when my flesh and my bones | life that it is impossible to brook longer. Since our hopes are decayed, and my soul has passed to its everlasting are blasted in this world, and all our schemes of grandeur home, then shall the sons of men ponder on the events of overtbrown; and since our everlasting destiny is settled by my life; wonder and tremble, and tremble and wonder how || a decree which no act of ours can invalidate, let us fall by such things should be.

our own hands, or by the hands of each other; die like " That stranger youth and I approached each other in heroes; and, throwing off this frame of dross and corsilence, and slowly, with our eyes fixed on each other's eyes. ruption, mingle with the pure ethereal essence of existence, We approached till not more than a yard intervened between from which we derived our being.' us, and then stood still and gazed, measuring each other “ I shuddered at a view of the dreadful alternative, yet from head to foot. What was my astonishment, on per-|| was obliged to confess that in my present circumstances

existence was not to be borne. It was in vain that I cela. The Parricide, in spite of its prophetic title, is reasoned on the sinfulness of the deed, and

on its damning nature; he made me condemn myself out of my own mouth, by allowing the absolute nature of justifying grace, and the

fortunes of a young Russian, Alfonso-who joins the impossibility of the elect ever falling from the faith, or the Polish army at Mislaw, and performs prodigies of vaglorious end to which they were called; and then he said, Il lour against his countrymen led on by his own father this granted, self-destruction was the act of a hero, and

In an accidental encounter be stabs his father, without none but a coward would shrink from it, to suffer a hundred times more every day and night that passed over his head. ll having recognised him. There is the necessa

" I said I was still contented to be that coward; and all ||tity of love-treachery-conspiracy-and friendship that I begged of him was, to leave me to my fortune for a | mixed up with the incidents, and in the performance season, and to the just judgment of my Creator; but he said

we do not see why it should not have tolerable success. his word and honour were engaged on my behoof, and these, in such a case, were not to be violated. If you will not

| The following scene is about as good as any thing in pity yourself, have pity on me,' added he: turn your eyes || Mr. Shiel or Mr. Walker_who are accounted, if we on me, and behold to what I am reduced.'

mistake not, the leading tragic writers of the day :“ Involuntarily did I turn round at the request, and caught a half glance of his features. May no eye destined

Rivoski. to reflect the beauties of the New Jerusalem inward upon

" What's he that joins a foreign state t'oppose the beatific soul, behold such a sight as mine then beheld!

The very being of his native birthplace? My immortal spirit, blood, and bones, were all withered at

What's he that would direct an impious war the blasting sight; and I arose and withdrew, with groan

Against the land that gave him being? Arm ings which the pangs of death shall never wring from me.''

In an unnatural contest with his kindred ? At last he sets about writing the journal which ends || If to do this can stamp the sunken traitor, with the moment preceding his death. Whether that | Blush deeply-thou-Russia gave thee birth. death was by his own hand, or the act of Gil-Martin

Alfonso. we do not learn, but the letter in Blackwood would

Wherefore have it that poor Colwan hung himself.

Should I be palsied at the name of Russia ? The book, as we before stated, is curious and clever. Thou hast provoked the memory of that

Which opens all the avenues to sadness.
None but a powerful writer could have produced it, || This is the point so delicately sharp-
and were it not for the air of mystification which is || It penetrates my feelings with regret!
thrown about the discovery of the MS. we should
have nothing to quarrel with.

Rivoski.
So should a Russian feel in treachery.

e nt or power Caroline and Zelite: or Transatlantic Tales, taken from II No pride na vastin

|| Think on the noble hearts that claim thy race, ife. By ANNE WHITE SMITH. London : COCK, || And on the infamy of patricides. 12mo. 1824.

Alfonso. THESE tales are simple and pleasing. The first is

Wherefore should I think on't? In this famed state the story of a young female, married to an accom

l I found no shelter or protection-noplished officer, and afterwards deserted by him for Had not my infancy raised other friends another. He is killed in a duel, and she mourns him // Who snatched me from the jaws of savage murder, as a widow. There is a subsequent attachment on her

There had I perished outcast and forgot. part to a married man, who falls in the field of battle.

Rivoski. There is a good deal of interest attached to this tale || Say thou wert cherished by a foreign handof blighted affections, and it is told in an unpretending |

Il Could none be found to try thy valour's strength

But we—your kinsmen ? way. The other story Zelite, relates to a West Indian

Alfonso. girl, and is not less deserving of praise, though happier in its termination.

Russians have injured us; | And from full gratitude I must oppose them.

Rivoski. The Parricide, a Tragedy, in Five Acts, as Performed at

| For which, by all the laws of heav'n and man, the Theatre Royal, Bath. By ROBERT ALLEN, A.M. An ignominious death rewards thy labour! Bath: Wood und Co.

Start not-with me thy fearful secret's safe

| 'Twere not entrusted to a common foe. This is about the hundred and twenty-second tragedy which has been written within the present year.

Alfonso. At such a rate we shall soon be overwhelmed with || My soul is shaken by thy mystic words: this class of composition. Fortunately the general

And yet e'en Russians must despise the man

That could, in vile remembrance of himself, cast of the present year's crop, is not very affecting,

Forfeit the faith he once had sworn to keep. or some fears might be entertained lest the great foun.

The heav'ns--my faith-my honour urge me on. tain of all tears should be dried up. They are the

Rivoski, least pathetic things imaginable. Formerly-one was

Wouldst thou wipe off this ever deadly stain expected to cry over a tragedy-mais on a change tout That casts immortal infamy upon thee

ve of the Russ

Real

Alfonso.
Speak out thy hopes-remove the hateful war,
And leave us to enjoy our nature's rights.

Rivoski.
Thus must it be-abandon all to us-
Join in the tumult of th' avenging tire,
And then we may receive you in our victory
As should a kindred one that had been lost.

Alfonso.
Wither me-rain, Heav'n, eternal curses down-
Let all the fury of indignant fiends
Feed on my viperous soul whene'er I fall-
The ingrate monster thou believest me!
What is't to me, if this be Russian honour ?
What Russia's virtue, when its very head
Can practise villanies that ruder states
Would shudder but to think on ? No-take back
The touch of patriot love thou lent'st me,
I will not own it ever moved my soul;
For from this moment know me for a Pole
A man-a prouder title than a Russian
E'er can claim,

Rivoski.
Betray thy natural foes-
Fire the proud dome that reare in majesty,
And let one scene of vengeful desolation
Atone the wrongs thy country has received.

Alfonso.
Let arms—let courage try our willing faith.

Rivoski.
Impetuous boy, thy city is undone-
Thyself and friends and all betrayed to me,
Where patricides must hang on palace walls !

Alfonso.
How has thy insolence escaped my fury-
How have thy treacheries been unrevenged !
Draw-if thou darest defend thy infamy,
Or meet thy just reward

(Rushing towards him.)

Rivoski, Strike home-thou art my son !

(Alfonso in the act of stabbing is horror-struck, lets fall his sword, and prostrates himself at the feet of RIVOSKI. "The curtain falls on them.)

Mr. Allen's language is singularly loose and incorrect -so much so, that one is disposed to doubt his proper claim to the A. M. which follows his name in the title page. Nor is his versification much better ; but there is a good deal of passionate feeling about the play which in some measure redeems it from general condemnation.

before us is almost sufficient to recompense us for all the trash we have waded through for a long time past. There is something uncommonly modest in the size and form of the volumes, which delightfully contrasts with the air of confidence and self-complacency that pervades their contents. Indeed, this is pretty nearly the only objection we have been able to contrive against them. The writer is a clever, smart, shrewd, and well-informed person, but he is something too fond of shewing off his cleverness by a sarcastic and derisive tone of observation upon almost every subject. Not that there is any ill-nature in his remarks, but the constant employment of pungent seasoning either corrupts the purity of the taste, or renders the dish itself very tame and insipid. The author, we understand, is a young Scotch Barrister, in posse or in esse, and probably this sort of style is professional, at least all our acquaintance amongst that class of persons are singularly addicted to the persi flage.

The author is clearly an ingenious observer, and has managed his materials so as to give them a cast of great novelty. Scenes and events with which we have long been familiar, he has dressed up in a fresh and striking way. There is an originality in his manner, which testifies the writer's talent, whilst it augments the reader's pleasure. Our traveller begins his observations with some general sketches of the eastern parts of France, and the approach to Strasburgh. His notice of this city is very complete. He is particularly successful, both in this and the other parts of his book, in illustrating his descriptions by references to other countries, as for example:

" Strasburgh itself is an irregular, old-fashioned, heavylooking town, most inconveniently intersected by muddy streams and canals, and full of soldiers and customhouse. officers; for it has the double misfortune of being at once a frontier trading town, and an important frontier fortification. The appearance of the inhabitants, and the mixture of tongues, announce at once that the Rhine was not always the boundary of France. Nearly two centuries have been insufficient to eradicate the difference of descent, and manners, and language. The situation of the town, more than any thing else, bas tended to keep these peculiarities alive, and prevent French manners from establishing, even in a French city, that intolerant despotism which they have often introduced into foreign capitals. As it is the centre of mercantile intercourse which France maintains with Swabia, Wirtemberg, great part of Baden, the north of Switzerland, the German part of the population bas always among them too many of their kindred to forget that they themselves were once subjects of the Holy Roman Er or give up their own modes of speaking, and dressing, and eating. The solid Swabian and serious Swiss drover are deaf to the charms of the universal language and kitchen. At Strasburgh you may dine on dishes as impenetrably digguised, or languish over entremets as nearly refined away to nothing, as at the tables of the great Parisian rivals, Very and Vefours; or, on the other side of the street, for half the money, you may have more German fat, plain boiled beef, and sour cabbage. The German kitchen is essentially a plain, solid, greasy kitchen; it has often by far too much of the last quality. People of rank, indeed, in the great capitals, are just as mad on French cookery as the most delicate of their equals in London ; but the national

oire

A Tour in Germany, and some of the Southern Provinces of the Austrian Empires, in the Years 1820, 1821, 1822. London: Hurst and Co. 2 vols. 1824.

AFTER toiling through innumerable volumes of tours and travels on the continent with infinite vexa. tion, it is quite “ refreshing" to light upon such a work as this. The labours of a professional reviewer are not always without reward, and the perusal of the volumes

cookery, in its general character, is the very reverse of that breach must be made in the luggage castle, and be built up of France, and it is by no means certain that the national || again. Half a day's travelling in one of these vehicles is cookery of a people may not have some connection with its | enough to make a man loathe them all his lifetime. national character. The German justly prides himself on the total absence of parade, on the openness, plainness, and

(To be continued.) sincerity which mark his character; accordingly, he boils his beef, and roasts his mutton and fowls just as they come from the hands of the butcher and the poulterer. If a gourmand of Vienna stuff his Styrian capon with truffles, this is

VISIT TO HAMPTON COURT. an unwonted tribute to delicacy of palate. French cookery, again, really seems to be merely a product of the vanity and parade which are inseparable from the French charac

AFTER leaving our sticks with the sentry, we ascended ter. The culinary accomplishments are to his dinner just the noble painted staircase, and entered a large anti-room, what sentiment is to his conversation. They are both sub

lined with warlike gear, but on the whole making a stitutes for the solid beef and solid feeling which either are

very pretty armoury. A respectable elderly-looking pernot there at all, or if they be there, are intended for no

son, with a profusion of hair-powder, and beautified with other purpose than to give a name. No one portion of

a queue whích hung down bis back like a bell-pull, sat God's creatures is reckoned fit for a Frenchman's dinner

in a corner of the apartment, like a spider watching Alies, till he himself has improved it beyond all possibility of re

to conduct company through the state chambers. We cognition. His cookery seems to proceed on the very sam

rested here a few minutes, examining the arrangement of principle on which his countrymen laboured to improve

the arms, while other parties were collecting for the same Raphael's pictures, viz. that there is nothing in nature or

purpose with ourselves for our Cicerone, though there was art so good, but he can make it better.

little either of physical or mental exertions in his labours, was as anxious to save both as if they would never again re

cruit, and like a commodore waited till his convoy was fully As a specimen of the author's playful style, take the

| collected before he unlocked the stately chambers. An old following:

gentleman of very intelligent countenance joined us, and

soon after an elderly gouvernante, one of the " What the Germans call a Diligence, or Post-wagen,

"unwed she-sages draxging its slow length through this delicious scene, is a bad

Whose tale belongs to Hallam's middle ages," feature in the picture. Much as we laugh at the meagre cattle, the knotted rope-harness, and lumbering pace of the || swelled out the party by the cortege of misses in her train, machines which bear the same name in France, the French evidently on a Saturday's excursion to Hampton Court, to have outstripped their less alert neighbours in every thing see the wonders of the place under her sagacious direction. that regards ncatness, and comfort, and expedition. The Our guide could not go far wrong with the history of the German carriage reacmbles the French one, but is still more almost contemporary beauties of King William's court, and clumsy and unwieldy. The luggage, which generally con really the flesh-and-blood attractions of many of these substitutes by far the greater part of the burden, (for your Dili- Il je

Ijects did not leave much inclination to attend to his gence is a servantof all work, and takes a trunk just as cheer- || prating, while he particularized them. But when he defully as a passenger,) is placed, not above, but in the rear. Il scended to subjects of less excitement, and expatiated on Behind the carriage a flooring projects from above the axle of the old Flemish masters, he made sad work of them, and as the hind wheels, equal, in length and breadth, to all the rest of for chronology,-a sig for dates ; here he floundered sadly, the vehicle. On this is built up a castle of boxes and pack and the farther he waded he only sunk the deeper. ages, that generally shoots out beyond the wheels, and Having detected the old gentleman and myself smiling, towers far above the roof of the carriage. The whole weight he became more cautious, seeming to think with honest is increased as much as possible by the strong chains in- || Dogberry, “that t less note he took of such folks the tended to secure the fortification from all attacks in the better,” and addressing himself chiefly to the lady, who rear; for the guard, like his French brother, will expose || was gliding about with all the eagerness and flutter of a himself to neither wind nor weather, but forthwith retires hen, followed by her chickens, affecting to point out les to doze in his cabriolet, leaving to its fate the edifice which lm

merveilles," and teach the young idea how to shoot,” and has been reared with much labour and marvellous skill. engrast on their severer studies a taste for the fine arts, Six passengers, if so many bold men can be found, are under her own auspices. But soft awhile, our guide is saypacked up inside ; two, more happy or less daring, takeling his lesson: “That ere picture, Ma'am, was painted five

cir place in the cabriolet with the guard. The breath of hundred years ago, by Wandyke, for Cardinal Volsey;" a life is insipid to a German without the breath of his pipe; || slight breach of chronological accuracy, which passed unthe insides puff most genially right into each other's faces. | noticed by his auditor, and added very much to the inWith such an addition to the ordinary mail-coach miseries terest of the tale. "Oh la!” says the gouvernante, turning of a low roof, a perpendicular back, legs suffering like a up her eyes, to which she in vain tried to give the intellecmartyr's in the boots, and scandalously scanty air-holes, tual look, “a'n't it a sweet beautiful picture? How well the Diligence becomes a very Black-hole. True, the po- || you could copy that Miss ; I am sure no one would know lice has directed its denunciations against smoking, and the difference, and it would be so delightfully clean, and Meinherr the conducteur (he has no native appellation) || look so fresh in a gilt frame; now remember, my dear girls, is specially charged with their execution; but Meinherr what the gentleman tells us ; that picture was painted five the conducteur, from the cravings of his own appetite, has | hundred years since for the Cardinal I told you of in our last a direct interest in allowing them to sleep, and is often the || historical readings." There was one picture remarkable very first man to propose putting them to rest. To this || for the profusion of legs and arms displayed in it; for among huge mass, this combination of stage-coach and carrier's || the whole group, and it was pretty numerous, there was not cart, are yoked four meagre, ragged cattle, and the whole one inch of petticoat; but when our commodore came in dashes along, on the finest roads, at the rate of rather more | sight, he drew up, cried a hem! and shot ahead from it, than three English miles an hour, stoppages included. The || as if it had been a sunken rock, not without a scowling look matter of refreshments is conducted with a very philanthro- l of espial at the quarter where we stood, as if at a nest of pical degree of leisure, and at every considerable town, a || pirates. In a kind of undertone, he pointed to a picture

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