drawback on the pleasure we all felt manufactures to his countrymen. He in her society was her inquisitiveness. was usually habited in a pair of open We had been told that this was a trowsers, and a long coat, something distinguishing feature in the Ame-like our surtouts, made from a sperican character; but at the hotel we cies of cotton cloth of American mahad experienced very little inconve-nufacture; and when he saw his wife nience from it. Mrs. Brown, however, was never weary of asking questions; morning, noon, and night, she came with her budget of inquiries, to which we were obliged to find answers; and I believe, before we quitted Baltimore, she was as well acquainted with every incident in our lives as we were ourselves. The daughters had a spice of their mother's disposition; but, to me at least, their cross-examinations were more agreeable than those of Mrs. Brown. What man can be angry when a young and pretty girl takes it into her head to feel interested enough about him, to make his history, conduct, character, and prospects, the subject of her inquiries? 66 and daughters dressed in the silks or linens of England, he would exclaim, "Aye, there they go! What, can you expect from the common herd, when the wife and daughters of old John Brown, who was the friend and companion of Putnam, and who shed his blood to establish the independence of his country, must decorate their persons in the fripperies and gewgaws of the unnatural parent, against whose tyranny we were forced to rebel?"-" Well, well, John," the old lady would say, we must do as our neighbours do; and we are not the worse friends to America because we dress ourselves in the Englishers' goods."-" Aye, father," said the young Brown, " and how should we The old gentleman was quite a be able to live if every body was of character. He had been a lieutenant your opinion? You know as well as in the revolutionary war, and had I, that all our money is made by sellimbibed a great dislike to the Eng-ing English manufactures; and I fanJish: hence, perhaps, arose the friend-cy we should drive a dull trade if ship between him and Mr. Mortimer, who, both publicly and privately, made no scruple of abusing the land of his birth, and of ascribing the most iniquitous motives to its government. Englishmen he represented as the natural enemies of America; and he could scarcely think any one of them honest, unless he left his country branded with the character of a seditious demagogue or a trai-raised by direct and internal taxa. tor. With such a man it was not likely I should long agree: but of that hereafter. Mr. Brown would not wear any garment manufactured from English goods, though he gained his livelihood by selling British every American was to take to wearing cloth of domestic make." Here I chimed in. "You should reflect," said I," that your taxes are chiefly defrayed from the duties on your foreign imports, most of which come from England. If you become a manufacturing nation, the expenses of your local and general governments will require a larger sum to be tion: how would that agree with your habits and predilections?" Here Mr. Mortimer burst out into an invective against all tax-gatherers and those who lived upon their produce; and a warm political dialogue ensued, which was only put an end to by the mediatorial offices of the ladies. then presented the appearance of a dark and dismal dungeon, which was not, however, impervious either to wind or rain. The seats were placed across, and it was capable of holding from fourteen to sixteen persons, ex The internal regulations of the family were not much at variance with those of a substantial shopkeeper in England, but were widely different from that elegance which character-clusive of the driver, who was seated izes the establishments of our English merchants. There was, however, a plenty of every thing, even to superfluity: the table groaned under the viands with which it was covered at the different meals; and a want of hospitality could not be attributed to any member of the family. in front. In this elegant carriage, over roads which presented obstacles at every step, and occasioned such a jolting, that every bone was almost forced from its socket, we travelled to Washington, the capital of the United States. On entering this place, we were struck with the air of desolation which reigned around; and I was about making an exclamation not very flattering to American pride, when the timely recollection, that it Here the marriage between Mrs. Fitzherbert and Mr. Mortimer was celebrated with the Episcopal rites, Mrs. F. being a member of the Church of England. The gentleman receiv-might produce an altercation with ed her from my hand; the Misses Brown acted as bridemaids; and the lovely Misses Fitzherbert were also present at the ceremony, Two days afterwards we left Baltimore for Alexandria, in an American stage. Such a vehicle I had never before seen: it was of the shape of those caravans which travel from town to town in England, and are seen at our fairs, with exhibitions of tumbling, conjuring, wild beasts, &c. The roof was covered with leather; and the sides were of wood for about two feet, and open to the top, except in cold or wet weather, when leather flaps suspended from the top were fastened all around, and the interior Mr. Mortimer induced me to be silent. We had had enough of American stage-travelling, and pursued our journey the same day to Alexandria by one of the packets which ply upon the Potowmac between the two places. A few hours' sail brought us to the future home of Mrs. Mortimer; and we were welcomed by her husband with an urbanity and a warmth, that for a time dispelled the prejudices which I could not but entertain in his disfavour. The evening was spent cheerfully; fatigue sent us early to repose; and I retired, to reflect on the past and form plans for the future: THE PARTING. A RAMBLER. (From "Recollections of an Eventful Life." By a SOLDIER.) WE had been about three months | As there were, however, a great many in Jersey, when the order came for more than that number, it was orderour embarkation for Portugal; but ed that they should draw lots, to see only six women to every hundred who should remain. The women of men were allowed to accompany us. the company to which I belonged were assembled in the pay-serjeant's to scald more of you about the fireside." A general murmur of disappointment ran through the whole. room for that purpose. The men of the company had gathered round them to see the result, with various" She has the devil's luck and her own," said one of them. 66 degrees of interest depicted in their The next in turn was the wife of a young man who was much respected in the ed in the company for his steadiness and good behaviour. She was remarkable for her affection for her husband, and beloved by the whole company for her modest and obliging disposition. She advanced with a palpitating heart and trembling hand to decide on (what was to her, I believe,) her future happiness or misery. Every one prayed for her success. Trembling between fear and hope, she drew out one of the tickets, and attempted to open it; but her hand shook so, she could not do it. She handed it to one of the men to open. When he opened it, his countenance fell, and he hesitated to say what it was. She cried out to him, in a tone of agony, "Tell me, for God's sake, what it is!""Not to go," said he, in a compassionate tone of voice." O God, help me! O Sandy!" she exclaimed, and sunk lifeless in the arms of her husband, who had sprung forward to her assistance, The next was an old hand, a most and in whose face was now depicted outrageous virago, who thought no- every variety of wretchedness. The thing of giving her husband a knock-drawing was interrupted, and she down when he offended her, and who used to make great disturbance about the fire in the cooking way. Every one uttered their wishes audibly that she would lose; and her husband, if we could judge from his countenance, seemed to wish so too. She boldly plunged her hand into the hat, and drew out a ticket; on opening it, she held it up triumphantly, and displayed "to go."-" Old Meg will go yet," said she," and live The first woman called was the serjeant's wife-she drew" not to go." It seemed to give little concern to any one but herself and her husband. She was not very well liked in the company. The next was a corporal's wife-she drew" to go." This was received by all with nearly as much apathy as the first. She was little beloved either. was carried by her husband to his birth, where he hung over her in frantic agony. By the assistance of those around her, she was soon recovered from her swoon, but she awoke only to a sense of her misery. The first thing she did was to look round for her husband; when she perceived him, she seized his hand and held it, as if she was afraid that he was going to leave her, "O Sandy, you'll not leave me and your poor babie, in her face with a look of agony and despair. will you?" The poor fellow looked || fixed in her mind that they would never use them in that way again, and as she put them aside, she watered them with her tears. Her tea-pot, her cups, and every thing that they had used in common, all had their apostrophe of sorrow. He tried to persuade her to remain in the barrack, as we had six miles to travel to the place of embarkation; but she said she would take the last minute in his company that she could. The regiment fell in, and marched The scene drew tears from every || eye in the room, with the exception of the termagant whom I have already mentioned, who said, "What are ye a' makin' sic a wark about? Let the babie get her greet out! I suppose she thinks there's naebody ever parted with their men but her, wi' her faintin', and her airs, and her wark!" The drawing was again commenc-off amid the wailing of those who, ed, and various were the expressions having two or three children, could of feelings evinced by those concern- not accompany us to the place of ed. The Irish women in particular embarkation. Many of the men had were loud in their grief. It always got so much intoxicated, that they appeared to me that the Irish either were scarcely able to walk. The feel more acutely than the Scotch or commanding officer was so displeasEnglish, or that they have less re-ed at their conduct, that, in coming straint on themselves in expressing it. The barrack, through the rest of that day, was one continued scene of lamentation. through St. Helier's, he would not allow the band to play. When we arrived at the place where we were to embark, a most We were to march the next distressing scene took place, in the morning early. Most of the single men parting with their wives. Some men were away drinking. I slept of them indeed it did not appear to in the birth above Sandy and his affect much; others had got themwife. They never went to bed, but selves nearly tipsy; but most of them sat the whole night in their birth, seemed to feel acutely. When Sanwith their only child between them, dy's wife came to take her last alternately embracing their child and farewell, she lost all government of each other, and lamenting their cru- her grief. She clung to him with a el fortune. I never witnessed in my despairing hold. "Oh! dinna, dinlife such a heart-rending scene. The na leave me!" she cried. The vespoor fellow tried to assume some firm-sel was hauling out. One of the serness, but in vain; some feeling ex- jeants came to tell her that she would pression from her would throw him have to go ashore." Oh! they'll off his guard, and at last his grief never be so hard-hearted as to part became quite uncontroulable. us!" said she; and running aft to the quarter-deck, where the commanding officer was standing, she sunk down on her knees, with her child in her arms. "Oh! will you no let me gang wi' my husband? Will ye tear him frae his wife and his ween? He has When the first bugle sounded, he got up and prepared his things. Here a new source of grief sprung up. In laying aside the articles which he intended to leave, and which they had used together, the idea seemed nae frien's but us-nor we ony but | us frien'less on the wide world."him and, oh! will you mak' us a' "God will be your friend," said I, frien'less? See my wee babie plead- as I took the child from her until in' for us!" she should get into the boat. Sandy had stood like a person bewildered all this time, without saying a word. "Farewell, then, a last farewell then!" said she to him. "Where's my babie?" she cried. I handed him to her-" Give him a last kiss, Sandy." He pressed the infant to his bosom in silent agony." Now a's owre! Farewell, Sandy! We'll may-be meet in heaven;" and she stepped into the boat with a wild despairing look. The vessel was now turning the pier, and she was almost out of our sight in an instant; but as we got the last glimpse of her, she uttered a shriek, the knell of a broken heart, which rings in my ears at this moment. Sandy rushed down below, and threw himself into one of the births in a state of feeling which defies description. Poor fellow, his wife's forebodings were too true! He was amongst the first that were killed in Portugal. What became of her I have never been able to learn. The officer felt a painful, struggle between his duty and his feelings; the tears came into his eyes. She eagerly caught at this as favourable to her cause. "Oh! aye, I see you have a feeling heart-you'll let me gang wi' him! You have nae wife: but if you had, I am sure you wad think it unco hard to be torn frae her this way-and this wee darling." My good woman," said the officer, "I feel for you much, but my orders are peremptory, that no more than six women to each hundred men go with their husbands. You have had your chance as well as the other women; and although it is hard enough on you to be separated from your husband, yet there are many more in the same predicament, and it is totally out of my power to help it."-"Well, well," said she, rising from her knees, and straining her infant to her breast, "it's a' owre wi' us, my puir babie! This day leaves HISTORY OF A COQUETTE. (Concluded from p. 74.) I CONSOLED myself for the defec-ion. By this means I succeeded at tion of Squire Chase by directing my battery at the heart of Lord Listless, on whom, for some time, I tried all the arts of coquetry in vain; in fact, his lordship was regarded as a man completely invulnerable to every feeling but self-love. Inaccessible, however, as his heart was supposed to be, I at last found a way to it: I praised his taste in dress, consulted him about my toilet, and occasionally gave my opinion as to what colours were most becoming to his complex last in making him fancy himself in love with me; and as his rank on the one hand, and his reputed insensibi lity on the other, made him a very creditable conquest, I enjoyed the delight of leading him about in my chains, which I thought a little management would induce him to wear till I was tired of his homage. Soon after I had secured the peer, chance threw Mr. Doubtall in my way: he was a philosopher on Hobbes' system, and he maintained his opinions with |