that, finally, Taste could place no trust in its stability; and those only who had the courage to depart from the multitude and adhere to her side, uninfluenced by her versatile sister, ever expected or ever were peculiarly distinguished by her.

"I hate,” said Lady Frances peevishly, "to be cheated into any thing; and those tiresome allegories always appear to me to be such a stale contrivance stories are quite different stories, according as they are told. Now, my dear' Sir, if I were to relate an apologue upon the subject which you have just given us, I would relate it thus: Fashion was a young, gay, delightful creature, who never frowned or prosed; and her sister, Good Taste, loved her so much, that they were inseparable' In short, (only it is too much trouble,) I could carry on the whole history, if I chose it, in the contrary strain; and end by drawing an inference the

very reverse of that which is made by your book."

General Montgomery smiled at the ingenuity of his unpersuadable niece; and then turning to his own loved Emily, he said, “You, best and dearest, will enter into my delight at this little fable, which I conceive to be the fairest possible excuse for, or, rather I should say, the strongest argument in favour of my sun-dial, my fountains, and my yew-hedges. Whatever modern innovation may suggest, there is certainly no true taste in converting the immediate vicinity of a gentleman's house into a bare jejune field, with a few clumps of trees sprinkled over it, and no reason either. Our climate always demands shelter, sometimes shade, and you have both in these noble evergreen screens which protect my flowers alternately from wind and heat, while my fountains glitter in the beams of the sun, and show like liquid diamonds; or, when the softer splendour of the moon rests upon them, they form a silvery sheet of falling light. Then my sun-dial, in the midst of my parterre,

that tells me what life itself is made of a sunbeam and a shade. Who can say that these varied objects are not much more replete with taste and feeling than the irriguous gravelwalks in an unmeaning shrubbery, or the outspread, unfurnished monotony of a grass park? There are countries where the gigantic features of Nature may of themselves supersede all other interest; but even there, as I myself have witnessed, the immediate vicinity of the dwelling-place is decorated with appropriate objects of home-felt enjoyment. To a true lover of the country, every one of these becomes an attaching interest, and seems gifted with more power than that which is vested in mere abstract nature, when devoid of the care and decoration bestowed by man. That pine" (pointing to one which grew over their heads) "was planted by me thirty years ago; and, now that it seems to support and cherish the blossoms of that rich red lilac that grows by its side, I please myself with fancying (you know I am fond of emblems and resemblances) that I trace in them an analogy to you, my dear nieces, and myself:

-the pine is in a green old age; and the lilac, young, blossoming, beautiful, and hopeful."

Lady Emily pressed his arm delightedly, in token of grateful and answering feeling; while something like a smile of derision curled her sister's lip, as she turned away, and observed to Lord Mowbray, that "all that was a great deal too fine for her!”

What would have been Lord Mowbray's reply it is difficult to say; for, agreeing in every word that had fallen from General Montgomery, he stood in the dilemma of either forfeiting his own consistency, or still farther offending Lady Frances by continuing to differ from her. Fortunately, he was rescued at that moment by Lady Emily's soliciting him to listen to some verses inscribed on a tablet in the bower, to which she directed his attention.

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They are a paraphrase of my dear uncle's from Horace," said she," and as you are doubtless familiar with the original lines, Lord Mowbray, you will be capable of appreciating the delicacy with which they are rendered; as

to myself, I can only feel the touching beauty

>

of their sentiment. Will you listen while I read?”—and Lady Emily with a feeling and a tone of voice that gave an additional charm to her words, read from the tablet the following lines, the idea of which was taken from Horace's "Beatus ille."

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Happy the man, who far from worldly care-
Free from its passions, like primeval man—
Tills the paternal field of which he's heir,
And thus in peace fulfils his little span !

Who never wakens to the fearful sound

Of warlike trumpet-whom the angry main With tempests scares not-with whom peace is foundWho lives and dies upon his native plain.

Who flies the bar litigious, scorns the great;

Whom rural sports and rural cares employ;

Who binds his vine unto his poplar's fate,

And prunes their shoots, the clust'ring fruit t'enjoy.

Now sees his grazing herds, in valley lone,

On richest pasture feed in quiet dell;

And while their loves they court with lowing moan,
Gathers his honey from its waxen cell.

When matron Autumn, crowned with fruit, appears,
He culls the blushing grapes or juicy pears;
Then to the Sylvan gods an altar rears

That best his rural gratitude declares.