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listened to him, an' he made me a fool hands to tell me what ye bad done! an' a disgrace to my people ; and he Didn't I tell ye that bad loock an' mislistened to the devil, an' spilt his masa fortin' id stick to you an' yours to ther's blood for the lucre or gain; but ye're grave, an' that nothin' that the judgment's come at last. I was a touched ye id tbrive ? An' isn't the dacent, innocent girl, when first I met curse come thrue? Where's my him that's there-look at me now, and child, my beautiful boy, tbat sickened see what he's made me-but that's from that very hour, as if he was not what I want to talk about. It's sthruck wid an evil eye? Where's now eleven years, last Michaelmas, my ould father, that died or a broken sence him an' I were livin' in the sar- heart wid the shame ye brought upon vice ov Mr. Daly, a farmer, and a ine ? and where, oh, where is the inkind masther he was ; an' there come nocent thoughts that used keep me a girl out or the County Mathe singin' for joy the live-long day, an' into the saine sarvice, an' she wasn't I listenin' to the birds in the threes, in it two days, when she come in an' lookin' at the deer in the park, an' the morning in a thrimble ov fright gatherin' the flowers on the hill, an' to Miss Daly, and tould her that she thinkin' nothin' that wasn't good and dhramed that the masther an' mis- happy ? An' where is that quiet thress were murthered in bed by a sleep that never come near me from ndan that she knew the face or well, the day I knew ye, an' never will till and that the dhrame was too sharp a I'm laid in my grave ? an' the sooner dhrame, not to come for a warning. that blessed hour comes the betther, Miss Daly was walkin' out ov her for there I'll be quiet at last. Ye're room an' goin' on to the kitchen all the seen an awful sight, Sir, an' ye're timo, never mindin' a word the girl heard an awful story, and ir it's a was sayin', for she had a bould warnin' to ye, gentleman as ye are, heart an' didn't nind dhrames no that company lades to ruin, I'm glad more nor if she was a Jew. In the ye come : any how it was kindness kitchen were the laborin' men all at inade ye stay, an' God 'ill bless ye breakfast, an' him," pointing to the for it. There's the day breakin', an' corpse, " along wid the rest; an' as the wimin 'ill be comin' here to lay the girl passed through after Miss him out wid the first light, and the Daly, the moment she saw him she sooner ye go, the betther for both." screeched, and ran out as fast as a It was with the utmost difficulty hare from the dogs; and when Miss that I could prevail upon this extraorDaly axed her what ailed her to make dinary woman to accept of a trifling her behave that way, she tould her the sum, which I pressed upon her : she murtherer she saw in her dhrame was said that “she had done nothing to sittin' in the kitchen, an' iv he wasn't desarve it," and it was only through turned off that instant minute she'd fear of offending me by a refusal, that lave the service that very day. An she took it at last. An hour and a angry girl Miss Daly was to hear her balf of sharp walking, brought me to talk that way, an' tould her to go as the village of Delganny, and though fast as she liked, and go she did. the scenery in that neighborhood is of Three nights afther that the dbrame a most romantic and picturesque chacome thrue, and the masther and the racter, you must excuse me from demisthress were killed in their bed- scribing it after the events of the Oh ! the kind misthress that never night. About two miles from Delclosed her eyes on her pillow with an ganny, I got on board a fishing-boat angry thought agin mortal breathin'. bound for Dublin, and a bright and Am I belyin' ye ?” said she, stepping tranquil evening found me at anchor fiercely up to the corpse, “ Didn't I in the harbor of Kingstown, « a sadder curse ye on my bended knees, when and a wiser man" than I was the day ye wakened me up wid your bloody before.
ENGLAND AND AMERICA.
(We copy the following remarks on the the same channel, England—which, relative popular feelings of England and therefore, is her chief market for America towards each other, from Captain everything intellectual as well as comBasil Hall's “ Travels in North America," mercial. Thus, in a variety of ways, a work which has been looked for with no a certain amount of acquaintance with small degree of interest on both sides of what is doing amongst us is transmitthe Atlantic. This passage is selected ted, as a matter of course, across the rather as a specimen of the author's style Atlantic. After all, however, say of writing and his manner of speaking of what they please, it is but a very conour country, than from our conviction of fused and confined sort of acquaintance the truth of his observations, or from any which they actually possess of Engthing noble and striking in the feelings land. There was, indeed, hardly anyand views which they express.)
thing in the whole range of my inqui.
ries in the United States, that proved The artificial structure of society in more different from what I had been the two countries is so dissimilar in led to expect, than this very point. nearly all respects, and the consequent At first I was surprised at the profundifference in the occupations, opinions, dity of their ignorance on this subject; and feelings of the two people on al- though I own it is far short of our igmost every subject that can interest norance of them. I was also wellnigh either, is so great, and so very strik- provoked at this sometimes, till I reing, even at the first glance, that my collected that an opinionated confisurprise is not, why we should bave dence in our own views, all the world been so much estranged from one over, is the most prominent characteranother in sentiment and in habits, istic of error. The Americans, of but how there should still remain if course, very stoutly, and I am sure indeed there do remain-any conside- with sincerity, assert their claims to rable points of agreement between us. infallibility on this point ; and accordIt will place this matter in a pretty ingly they receive with undisguised strong light to inention, that during incredulity the more correct accounts more than a year that I was in Ameri- which a personal familiarity with both ca-although the conversation very of- countries enables foreigners to furnish. ten turned on the politics of Europe I learnt in time to see that similar for the last thirty years—I never, but causes to those already stated, though in one or two solitary instances, heard different in degree, in addition to ma. a word that implied the smallest de- ny others, were in action in America gree of sympathy with the exertions to render England as ungrateful a towhich England, single-handed, had so pic with them as America is undenialong made to sustain the drooping bly with us. The nature of the mocause of freedom. It will be obvious, narchical form of government, with its I think, upon a little reflection, how attendant distinctions in rank, we may the same causes have not operated in suppose is nearly as repugnant to America to keep her so entirely igno- their tastes as democracy is to ours. rant of England, as we in England are The eternal recollections, too, of all of America. Nearly all that she has the past quarrels between us, in which of letters, of arts, and of science, has probably for want of any other hisbeen, and still continues to be, im- tory—they indulge not only as an ocported from us, with little addition or casional pleasure, but iropose upon admixture of a domestic growth or themselves as a periodical duty, and manufacture. Nearly all that she celebrate, accordingly, with all sorts learns of the proceedings of the other of national rancor, at a yearly festival, parts of the world also comes through render the Revolutionary war in which
they succeeded, nearly as fertile a us a considerable degree of unkindly source of irritation to them, with re feeling towards America ; but this I ference to poor Old England, though contended was ascribable, not by any the issue was successful, as its disas- means to past squabbles, recent or reters formerly were to us, who failed. mote, but almost exclusively to causes But there is this very material, and, I actually in operation, in their full take the liberty of saying, characteris- force, at the present moment, and lytic, difference between the two cases: ing far deeper than the memory of we have long ago forgotten and for- those by-gone wars, the details of given out and out-all that has pass- which have long been forgotten, even ed, and absolutely think so little about by the few eye-witnesses who remain, it, that I believe, on my conscience, and about wbich the English of the not one man in a thousand amongst present day are either profoundly igus knows a word of these matters, norant, or—which comes to the same with which they are apt to imagine us thing—profoundly indifferent. Be the So much occupied. Whereas, in causes, however, what they may, the America, as I have said before, the curious fact of our mutual ignorance is full, true, and particular account of indisputable. At least so it appears the angry dispute between us—the to me; and I have good reason to beknowledge of which ought to have lieve, that such is the opinion of albeen buried long ago-is carefully most every foreigner, continental, as taught at school, cherished in youth, well as English, who has visited Ameand afterwards carried, in manhood, rica. We, however, in England, as I into every ramification of public and have said before, frankly and fully private life. If I were asked to give admit our very small acquaintance my countrymen an example of the ex- with that country ; whereas the Ametent of the ignorance which prevails ricans, probably with as much sinceriin America with respect to England, ty, proclaim their perfect acquaintance I might instance the erroneous, but with England. The conclusion is almost universal opinion in that coun- odd enough ; both parties are satisfied try, that the want of cordiality with they are convinced that they know which, I grant, the English look upon all about us; and we are perfectly them, has its source in the old recol- conscious that we know nothing about lections alluded to. And I could ne-. them. While, therefore, I may perver convince them, that such vindic- haps indulge myself in the expectation tive retrospections, which it is the of being able to furnish some slight avowed pride and delight of America information to people on this side of to keep alive in their pristine asperity, the water respecting that country, I were entirely foreign to the national have had far too much experience of character of the English, and incon- the hopeless nature of the converse of sistent with that hearty John Bull spin the proposition, to attempt changing rit, which teaches them to forget all the opinions of the Americans as to about a quarrel, great or small, the what is passing in England. On this moment the fight is over, and they topic, indeed, to use the words of have shaken hands with their enemy Burke in speaking of another nation, in testimony of such compact. At the inhabitants of the United States, the same time, I cannot, and never are, it is to be feared, pretty nearlydid deny, that there existed amongst reason-proof.
Why do we gaze upon the lonely beach
And broken cliff we never saw before, And feel a joy beyond the power of speech
In the wild sands and on the summit
hoar? Why does the vast, th'eternal ocean, teach dem! 1 Inheries 1
et des, mert
Deep lessons, which with Heaven unite But, oh! beyond all these, if thou hast us more
known Than all the world's temptation and its What 'tis to have thy heart's affections power
placed Can work upon us in their happiest hour ? On some fond being, whom thou lov'st
alone Nor let external nature bound thy range: With tender ardor, passionate yet chaste, Look how the soul of man hath been en- Whose love to thee is dearer than a dued ;
throne; The sympathy which binds in union strange If e'er the look of rapture thou hast Congenial souls, the links of gratitude,
traced Of mutual minds the blissful interchange, In th' all-confiding, happy, conscious The power of saving, joy of doing good,
eyeThe solemn farewell, the sweet recognition, Think, think of these, and feel thou canst And all the nobler types of man's condition. not die !
Et bien u te
cemes 22 Enditee
THE LATEST FEMALE FASHIONS.
mented with a mixture of satin points A ROUND dress of citron color gros and white blonde lace; a fall of de Naples, the skirt of an easy ful- blonde is disposed in drapery round ness, ornamented with rouleaux to the crown, and two esprits are placed correspond, placed at regular distances. to the left side. The brides are of Corsage croisée, and long sleeve à la broad gauze riband, to correspond Marie. Ceinture of wrought silk to with the hat. A broad black riband, correspond with the dress, fastened in to which is attached three gold ornafront by a gold buckle. Fichu of ments of an antique form, encircles white lace, with an antique collar, the dress round the throat, and dewhich stands up round the throat. scends to the ceinture. White kid Chapeau of gros de Naples, color bleu shoes; yellow gloves. d'Haiti, trimmed with næuds of gauze riband to correspond, intermixed with
EVENING DRESS. bouquets of corn flowers and bunches
A dress of crêpe aerophane over of unripe wheat. White kid gloves : satin to correspond ; the color is the citron kid shoes.
deepest shade of bleu du Roi. The
corsage is cut extremely low, ornaExplanation of the Print of the
mented round the bust with a light
trimming in crêpe, and marked in the Fashions.
centre of the bust and back with a PUBLIC PROMENADE DRESS. narrow satin rouleau. The sleeves A JACKONOT muslin round dress; the are extremely short and full. Satin corsage is made up to the throat, and ceinture fastened behind in short bows disposed in deep longitudinal plaits, without ends. The skirt is of an long sleeve of rather more than the easy fulness, and finished by a broad usual width. The skirt is ornarient- biais of the same material, on the uped with two deep tucks, each sur- per edge of which is a very rich emmounted by embroidery. A sultana broidery in floise silk of the same of ruse colored gros de Tours, color. The hair is arranged in a profigured with black, is worn orer this fusion of full curls, which fall low on dress. The corsage is open before each side of the face, and in full bows and behind, and falls over on the on the crown of the head. A demi shoulders in the pelerine style ; the guirlande goes round the back of the sultana is open in front, and simply bead, and terminates in a small trimmed round with a rouleau of the bouquet of fancy flowers on the right same material. Chapeau composed side. Diamond ear-rings ; white kid of crape of the darkest shade of va- gloves ; wbite gros de Naples sandals ; peur ; the inside of the brim is orna- plaid crape scarf.
« Come, let us stray Where Chance or Fancy leads our roving walk.”
JOHN LOCKE IN HOLLAND. price of them; for å horse-load of The following is a pleasing specimen turnips would be two horse-load of of the playfulness and good humor of money. A pair of shoes cannot be the celebrated John Locke. It is part got under half a year : I lately saw of a letter, dated Cleves, 1665, to a the cow killed out of whose hide I friend, and is from “Lord King's Life hope to have my next pair. To be of Locke,” just published in London. serious with you, they are the slowest
“ You must not expect anything re- people, and fullest of delays, that erer markable from me, for I have spent the I have met with, and their money as whole week in getting a pair of gloves, bad.” and think, too, I have had a quick des- UNIVERSITY OF HALLE. patch. You will perhaps wonder at it. The number of students in the Uniand think I talk like a traveller; but I versity of Halle, in the half-year bewill give you the particulars of the busi- tween Michaelmas 1827, and Easter ness. Three days were spent in finding 1828, amounted in the whole to 1185 ; out a glover ; for though I can walk all in the half-year from Easter to Mithe town over in less than an hour, chaelmas 1828, the numbers were in yet their shops are so contrived, as if the whole, 1316. In the last halfthey were designed to conceal, not year the nuinber amounted to 1330, expose, their wares; and though you of whom 944 were students of divinimay think it strange, yet, methinks, it ty, 239 of law, 58 of medicine, and is very well done, and 'tis a becoming 89 of philosophy, philology, mathemaunodesty to conceal that which they tics, &c. The foreigners were 355, have reason enough to be ashamed of. the Wurtemburgers 975. Those who But to proceed: the two next days have already passed their examination were spent in drawing them on-the and taken their degrees, although conright-hand glove (or, as they call them tinuing to profit by the instruction bere, hand shoe), Thursday, and the given in the University, are included left hand, Friday; and I promise you in this statement. A new building this was two good days' work, and for the University is about to be erectlittle enough to bring them to fit myed on the site of the present theatre, hands, and to consent to be fellows, formerly the church of the garrison which, after all, they are so far from, and University, and the Lutherian that when they are on, I am always gymnasium. 40,000 dollars were orafraid my hands should go to cuffs one dered by the king to be assigned for with another, they so disagree. Sa- the purpose in 1827. The designs turday we concluded on the price, are now in a state of forwardness. computed, and changed our money ; for it requires a great deal of arithme
REAL DISCONTENT. tic and a great deal of brass to pay The following anecdote is related twenty-eight stivers and seven doits; of Robert de Insula, or Halieland, a but, God be thanked, they are well man of low birth, and one of the bifitted with counters for reckoning: for shops of Durham :-Having given his their money is good for nothing else, mother an establishment suitable to and I am poor here with my pockets his own rank, and asking her once, full of it. I wondered at first why when he went to see her, how she the market people brought their wares fared, she answered, “Never worse!" in little carts, drawn by one horse, till -" What troubles thee ?" said the I found it necessary to carry home the bishop; “ bast thou not men and wo