how much they stood indebted to an almighty Power for the exercise of those talents they have supposed their own: whereas I know, I know most perfectly, I am perhaps to be taught it to the last, that my power to think, whatever it be, and consequently my power tocompose, is, as much as my outward form, afforded to me by the same hand that makes me in any respect to differ from a brute. A serious poem is like a swan, it flies heavily and never far; but a a jest has the wings of a swallow, that never tire, and that carry it into every nook and corner. I am perfectly a stranger to the reception that my volume * meets with, and I believe in respect to my nonchalance upon that subject, if authors would but copy so fair an example, I am a most exemplary character. I must tell you, nevertheless, that although the laurels I gain at Olney will never minister nuch to my pride, I have acquired some-The reverend Mr. Sis my admirer, and thinks my second volume superior to my first. It ought to be so. If we do not improve by practice, then nothing can mend us; and a man has no more cause to be mortified at being told that he has excelled himself, than the elephant had whose praise it was that he was the greatest elephant in the world, except himself. DESCRIPTION of the VILLA of her ROYAL HIGHNESS the PRINCESS OF WALES. [With a View, elegantly engraved.] THE villa of her royal highness The second volume of his poems. the princess of Wales is situated on Blackheath, adjoining to Greenwich Park, and the view now giveń looks into the Park. The front is thickly embowered with trees, so as nearly to obscure the build. ing from public view. It is a com pound of irregular architecture, and though plain in its outside, is fitted up with great symmetry and beauty internally, and reflects nuch credit to her royal highness' judgment and taste. The gardens, conservatory, &c. are at once simple and elegant. The situation of this villa is charmingly central for variety of excursions round the adjacent country which offers a pleasing variety of bill and dale. It is at a convenient distance from the metropolis, and its vicinity to that noble building, Greenwich Hospital, the Park, and the majestic and busy River Thames, render it delightful. Near this spot, opposite Conduit Vale, is an eminence called the Point, forming a most pleasing situation for a promenade, which equals, if not excels, any part so near London for a bold and extensive prospect. At her royal highness' mansion, the poor find every relief and encouragement: and the rising generation of both sexes around this hall of hospitality have abundant reason to bless the royal and generous benefactress, who not only supplies their present wants, but amply contributes to their future welfare by providing for them the means of a liberal education, HARRIET VERNON; OR, little walks, with a view to rouse and disengage my attention from an unpleasant subject. Mrs. Wil son seemed to acquiesce in this with readiness, and sometimes, (as CHARACTERS FROM REAL LIFE. did in general,, Maria,) joined us. A NOVEL. In a Series of Letters. BY A LADY. (Continued from p. 641.) LETTER XLII. Miss H. Vernon to Miss West. I THANK you, my dear Susan, for your kind, consoling letter. I feel myself mend every day, and were I in comfortable circumstances, no doubt my late disappointment would soon cease to affect me. That I loved Mr. Beaumont is certain, but the discovery of his baseness could not fail to obliterate my affection; and the happy escape I have had can leave no other emotion but gratitude to Providence and my deliverer., I will quit this subject, having others to write of in which I am more immediately interested. I know not what will become of me; I am an outcast, I think. You may recollect my having mentioned Mrs. Wilson's behaviour towards me as unkind and unaccountable for some time past; a few days since the mystery was unravelled. Mr. Wilson, who has always behaved to both of us in a most friendly and kind manner, thought proper, at seeing me unwell and dejected, (as how, for some time, could I be otherwise,) to take mẹ out on horseback, and proposed VOL. XXXVIII. A few days since, on my return from a ride with Mr. Wilson, I was surprised to find Maria in tears, and Mrs. Wilson traversing the room in much disorder. When Mr. Wilson and I entered- Here they are,' said she, now answer for yourselves. Mr. Wilson, have you not withdrawn your affections from me, and fixed them on that girl? Yes, I saw it long ago; I am not a fool; I have eyes and ears. Begone from my house,' said she to me, 'you have acted a base part by me. Dear Madam,' said I, what do you mean?' Leave my sight,' replied she. I was terrified to death, and ran out of the room. Maria followed, and not knowing what we did, we set to packing up our clothes, to go we knew not where. We had not, however, proceeded far before Mrs. Wilson's maid came to say her mistress wanted to speak with us. I trembled so that I could hardly stand, and begged Maria to attend her alone. By no means, she said, 'conscious of innocence, what had I to fear; or why regard her passions and absurdities? Toavoid her sight might give cause for suspicion.'-I saw the propriety of this, and went with her, expecting nothing less than a repetition of what she had before said. We were surprised to see her cool and composed. I am very sorry,' said she, for what I have in my passion said, but I am now cool, and you must excuse my 4 U little pets. I did not mean to affront you, I am sure; I have a great regard for you both, but I am not well; one is not in temper always.' I scarcely knew how to answer this unexpected and silly speech. At length I said I was preparing to leave her house by her orders, though I knew not where to go.' I shall be very much affronted if you do so,' said she. Come, come, you must not bear malice; you must both of you stay and live with me, I cannot do without you.' "I hope I shall never bear malice, madam; but after what has passed, it is impossible that I can live here. If you will permit me to stay, until I can procure a situation of some kind or other to support me respectably, it is all I wish for, and I make no doubt but my friends will soon find me one.' Well, if you are set upon it, it must be so, though I had rather you staid with me.' Strange, capricious woman! Any thing would I suffer rather than be subject to the whims and insults of such a temper. As I was now convinced that she really meant nothing by what she had said respecting Mr. Wilson, my mind was relieved; for, however innocent I felt myself, I could not but be shocked and concerned at the suggestion. She has ever since behaved very well, and affects to be sorry, or perhaps really is so, that I am to leave her. Maria continues with her, but her favours are held on so precarious a footing, that no person can depend on their continuance. There is no "alteration in Mr. Wilson's behaviour to me, but I am more reserved to him. He urges me to 《《« ་་་ urges stay, and I believe with sincerity, but I tell him it is out of the question, after what has passed. I will now inform you of the particulars of a visit which Maria and I paid yesterday to our cousin Meadows; for as by her connexions she was able to assist in procuring a situation, we thought it prudent to consult her. Indeed I considered it not unlikely that she might choose to retain me herself as a companion to her daughters, or in some other way. We found her sitting with her daughters at work. On our entrance none of the party arose from their seats, or took any notice of us but by a bow of the head. I thought you had left the country before this time,' said Mrs. Meadows. We should not have done that, madam, without waiting on you.' -A silence of five minutes ensued. 'Mr. and Mrs. Wilson desire to be remembered to you,' said Maria. port ourselves. Do you know, madam, any lady who wants a companion or an assistant in a school where the knowledge of the English tongue and needle-work might recommend? Why no! she knew of no such person being wanted. She had many applications of that sort made to her, but it was an un thankful office to recommend. She had once recommended a young person as a companion to a very worthy friend of hers, but she turned out very ungrateful, and behaved very insolent, and was so intolerably proud that there was no bearing her; and because her father had lived in splendour and kept his coach, she was above setting a hand to any thing, and was quite the fine lady. Her father had lost a large estate in America, and the family were obliged to get their living as well as they could; some went one way, and some another. This was their eldest daughter; she was thought very handsome, (though for her part she saw no beauty in her), had received an accomplished education, but she was good for nothing as a servant, and truly refused doing many little offices which she was sometimes required; and one day when her friend desired her to scour some shelves in a closet, she rang the bell for the house-maid, and pertly said that she had not been used to such menial offices, and had the insolence to mention her birth and education, and a great deal more such arrogant stuff, not to be borne from a dependant, so her friend sent her away, for which she thought her right. As for her part, she hated what were called companions. Her daughters were her companions. I told her that Mrs. Wilson had chosen my sister for her companion, but that I wanted a situation. Why how is that?' said she; I thought your brother had provided for you both.' - I said dependence on brothers was, I believed, in general, very uncertain; that ours was married, and had deserted us. I briefly related the particulars you so well know. When I had finished,she was very sorry-it was too often the case. But she thought it was pity that I did not accept of the offer of being with a milliner or mantua-maker. For her part, she had a family, and must look to them; she supposed we were both in the same plight, and bad enough it was.-Maria then repeated that she was to continue at Mrs. Wilson's. 'Oh! you are,' said she, drawing herself up, and looking at the girls. She had better provide for you both, I think; and when she dies, her husband and you may divide the substance.' Maria said she had no such expectation or wish. No such wish, child!' replied she, bursting into a sneering laugh, in which her daughters joined her. I know not when their mirth would have ceased, had not a gentleman entered whose presence imposed silence. How do you, Mr. Rogers? I It see you. am extremely glad to is an age, I am sure, since you was here. How is your good. mother? Ann, put down Mr. Rogers' hat.' After this greeting, made, no doubt, to the purse of the gentle- . man, he had time to speak, and informed her that he was in great haste, having been on the tramp over the parish, but had not gone 4 U 2 half through. You have heard, It is well, madam," said the gentleman, other people had better memories. The poor people are burnt out of their house, and have lost all the little property they had." Dear me! I am very sorry; it is a sad thing, indeed. They were very industrious, good sort of péople, I believe?' None more so,' said Mr. Rogers: but it does not rest with s to call them good people, we must do what we can to assist them, and alleviate their distress.' Pray, sir, what do you suppose their loss to be?' said Maria. About fifty pounds,' said Mr. Rogers. A very large sum,' said Mrs. Meadows. Oh! nothing madam, in this large and rich parish. I hope to raise more than that. I am an excellent collector of poor rates. But I must not spend my time in chattering. You will not refuse your mite, Madam ?. He spoke the word mite with so pointed an emphasis, as convinced me that he knew Mrs. Meadows perfectly well. Slow went the lady's hand into her pocket, and slowly did she draw thence a fine silk purse with gold tassels. Before it could be opened, Maria and I had taken half-a-crown from ours, and were going to present it, to the gentleman. No! no!' said he, I accept none from young ladies; my demand is only on the housekeepers in the parish. I presume you have nothing to do yet with the collector of poor rates. We begged him to accept, but he refused; I suppose he judged from our appearance, which was very plain, that we could ill spare it. By this time Mrs. Meadows' purse was opened, and Pray, sir,' said she, what have my neighbours given you in general ?? I hope to receive from you, Madam, a free-will offering. I do not produce my book before 1 see the cash to be entered in it.' O shame! where is thy blush! or why wast thou not discoverable on the cheek of Mrs. Meadows? when, fast clinched between finger and thumb, she presented half-a-crown towards the relief of a man, his wife, and six children.- Will that do, sir?' said she.. Any thing will be accepted, madam,' said the gentleman, mak ing a profound bow, and drawing: from his pocket a list of frames. Let me see,' said he' Mr. Jackson, five guineas; Mr. Perkins, three guineas; Mrs. Morris, three guineas; Mrs. Francis, one guinea; Miss Francis, half-a-guinea; Master Francis, five shillings; a gentleman unknown, one guinea; John Long, the beadle, who also assisted at the fire, five shillings; Mrs. Meadows, two-and-sixpence.: Good morning to you; I must speed. away, or my fifty pounds will not be made up this morning.'» -Away he went. "I could not conceive,' said the lady, what brought him, here this. morning. He frequently drinks tea here. He is a rich old widower, and is very fond of my daughter Ann. John, if Mr. Rogers comes: again of a morning, I am not at home. I don't like morning visits. Did you ever hear of such extravagant giving as lie read from his |