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Sir P. Old enough!- ay—there it is. Well, well, Lady Teazle, though my life may be made unhappy by your temper, I'll not be ruined by your extravagance.

Lady T. My extravagance! I'm sure I'm not more extravagant than a woman ought to be.

Sir P. No, no, madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such unmeaning luxury. Indeed ! to spend as much to furnish your dressing-room with flowers in wintei as would suffice to turn the Pantheon * into a green-house!

Lady T. Why, Sir Peter! am I to blame, because flowers are dear in cold weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with me. For my part, I'm sure, I wish it were spring all the year round, and that roses grew under our feet! Sir P. Zounds! madam - if you had been born to

this, I shouldn't wonder at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was when I married you.

Lady T. No, no, I don't; 'twas a very disagreeable one, or I should never have married you.

Sir P. Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler style, — the daughter of a plain country squire. Recollect, Lady Teazle, when I saw you first sitting at your tambour', in a pretty figured linen gown, with a bunch of keys at your side, your hair combed smooth over a roll, and your apartment hung round with fruits in worsted of your own working.

Lady T. O, yes! I remember it very well, and a curious life I led, — my daily occupation to inspect the dairy, superintend’ the poultry, make extracts from the family receipt-book, and comb my aunt Deborah’s lap-dog.

Sir P. Yes, yes, ma'am, 'twas so, indeed.

Lady T. And then, you know, my evening amusements;— to draw patterns for ruffles, which I had not materials to make up; to play Pope Joan' with the curate; to read a novel to my aunt; or to be stuck down to an old spinet“ to strum my father to sleep after a fox-chase.

* PAN-THĒ'QN. A temple dedicated to all the gods. The Pantheon at Rome, Now comparatively in ruins, is one of the most splendid remains of the ancienta

Sir P. I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these were the recreations I took you from; but now you must have your coach — vis-a-vis 5 - and three powdered footmen before your chair; and, in the summer, a pair of white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens. No recollection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double, behind the butler, on a docked coachhorse,

Lady T. No-I never did that: I deny the butler and the coach-horse.

Sir P. This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done for you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank; in short, I have made you my wife.

Lady T. Well, then; and there is but one thing more you can make me, to add to the obligation, and that is —

Sir P. My widow, I suppose ?
Lady T. Hem! hem ?

Sir P. I thank you, madam; but don't flatter yourself; for though your ill conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never break my heart, I promise you: however, I am equally obliged to you for the hint.

Lady T. Then why will you endeavor to make yourself so disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every little elegant expense ?

Sir P. Indeed, madam, had you any of these little elegant expenses when you married me?

Lady T. Why, Sir Peter! would you have me be out of the fashion ?

Sir P. The fashion, indeed! What had you to do with the fashion before you married me?

Lady T. For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.

Sir P. Ay; there again — taste. Zounds! madam, you had no taste when you married me!

Lady T. That's very true indeed, Sir Peter; and after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's.

Sir P. Ay, there's another precious circumstance — a charming set of acquaintance you have made there.

Lady T. Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune, and remarkably tenacious of reputation.

Sir P. Yes, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance; for they don't choose any body should have a character but themselves ! — Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle? who has done less mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and clippers of reputation.

Lady T. What! would you restrain the freedom of speech ?

Sir P. Ah! they have made you just as bad as any one of the society.

Lady T. Why, I believe I do bear a part with a toler. able grace.

Sir P. Grace, indeed !

Lady T. But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse. When I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure good-humor; and I take it for granted, they deal exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell's too.

Sir P. Well, well, I'll call in just to look after my own character.

Lady T. Then indeed you must make haste after me, or you'll be too late. So, good-by to you. [Exit LADY TEAZLE.

Sir P. So-I have gained much by my intended expostulation®: yet, with what a charming air she contra

dicts every thing I say, and how pleasingly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can't make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage, as when she is doing every thing in her power to plague me.

[Exit.

1 TĂM'BỘUR. A frame on which cloth) here, a carriage for two persons

is stretched for convenience of em who sit opposite to each other. broidering.

O TE-NĀ'CIOUS (-shụs). Holding fast; SŪ-PER-IN-TEND'. Have the care or retentive. direction of; overlook.

| 7 HUR'DLE.' A sort of sledge on which 3 PÕPE JOAN (-jon). A game at cards. criminals were drawn to execution. 4 SPIN'ĘT. A stringed musical instru-8 EX-POST'U-LĀ-TION. Earnest re

ment of the harp kind, formeriy monstrance ; act of reasoning earmuch in use.

nestly with a person, on some im6 VY8!Ä-vis (viz'a-ve). Face to face ;| propriety of conduct.

LIX.- THE PASSAGE.

UIILAND.

(Johann Ludwig Uhland was born in Tübingen, April 26, 1787, and died No. vember 13, 1862. Ainong the recent poets of Germany he holds a very high place. He wrote dramas, ballads, odes, and lyrical pieces. But few of his poems have been translated into English, and these have a dreamy and spiritual beauty, and much tenderness of feeling.)

1. Many a year is in its grave

Since I crossed this restless wave;
And the evening, fair as ever,
Shines on ruin, rock, and river.

2. Then in this same boat beside

Sat two comrades old and tried;
One with all a father's truth,
One with all the fire of youth.

3. One on earth in silence wrought',

And his grave in silence sought;

But the younger, brighter form
Passed in battle and in storm.

4. So, whene'er I turn my eye

Back upon the days gone by,
Saddening thoughts of friends come o'er me-
Friends who closed their course before me.

5. But what binds us, friend to friend,

But that soul with soul can blend ?
Soul-like were those days of yore-
Let us walk in soul once more.

6. Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee;

Take, I give it willingly;
For, invisible to thee,

Spirits twain have crossed with me.
1 WROUGHT (rawt). Worked. 1 2 PASSED. Departed from life,

LX. - BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

MRS. CAROLINE NORTON. [This poem was written by Mrs. Caroline Norton, an English lady, grand daughter of the celebrated R. B. Sheridan. Bingen is a beautiful town on the left bank of the Rhine, in Germany.]

1.

A SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,
There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears
But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away,
And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say:
The dying soldier faltered, and he took that comrade's hand,
And he said, “I never more shall see my own, my native land:
Take a message, and a token, to some distant friends of mine,
For 1 was born at Bingen,* — at Bingen on the Rhine.

* Pronounced Bìnğęn.

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