Cæsar himself. She retains some knowledge of dancing; but as to drawing, she has given it up. She occasionally plies the needle at rug-work, especially if a fashionable pattern has made its appearance. At the solicitation of a friend, her fingers occasionally fly over the keys of the piano-forte; yet she has no idea of the soul of harmony; she hates the intricacies of Herz, although she can undoubtedly distinguish between a rest and a fugue; and she pays more attention to the last fashionable song than to all the beauties of Handel, Beethoven, Mozart, Weber, and Rossini.

Her visits to the market town are of frequent occurrence; and her knowledge in dress is wonderfully profound. It is, indeed, her forte. The newest fashion is seized with surprising avidity; and she is perfectly well acquainted with all the varieties in the articles of dress, from the splendour of Cachmere to the beautiful softness of French merinos. She has a great regard for whatever is French. She knows that French ribbons are far more beautifully chaste in design and splendid in colour than those of British manufacture at even double the price; and that French flowers, in all shapes, are far superior to all others,

dearer in the first instance, but will last far longer. "As to feathers," says she, "give me the real ostrich,-oh!—such a love-tinted at the tips with, the most beautiful colours; for they will stand all weathers, and look good to the last; while those manufactured in this country soon become withered and shabby.” Then as to bonnets, there is nothing like Leghorn of the Queen's cottage shape; and the Victoria plat is unrivalled; as to the Luton, Dunstable, and Rutland plats, they are all very well for the middle classes, who may be content with trimmings of silk and satin; but in the upper circles, feathers and flowers of course! Then, also, as to shoes, nothing can, in her estimation, exceed those of French manufacture, for simplicity of form, as well as for elegance and ease. Et hoc genus omne.

The Village Coquette has much to unlearn; and it is very probable that, before she arrived at the end of a system of re-instruction, age would be creeping on apace and she would find herself left alone, despised and rejected-when the sun of her existence had far passed the meridian and was sinking to the west, shorn of its brilliancy, diminished of its power, and scarcely felt as the curtains of repose were

drawn around. How far more beautiful that attractive grace and elegant simplicity of manners, which adorn the true female character

-that peculiar charm, which, although it may be indescribable, throws a halo around a form whose beauty, placed as upon a throne of state, reigns supreme-that unobtrusiveness of demeanour which is so mingled with innocent confidence, as to enchain all hearts-proceeding as a stream from the high fountain of unalloyed purity, mingling the sweet music of the voice with the sweeter music of the heart, making that heavenly which pertains to the earth-that ethereal which belongs to humanity-and causing the warm, pure heart to gush forth its countless blessings, even at the very name of-woman!

THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE.

I may you not devise all hire beautee;
But thus much of hire beautee tell I may,
That she was like the bright morwe of May,
Fulfilled of all beautees and plesance.

CHAUCER. The Marchantes' Tale, v. 9617.

She was of feture and shappe semely, and bewteous, of stature goodly and high.-SIR T. MORE. Workes, p. 2.

THE beautiful Galatæa lived-the beautiful Galatea loved-the beautiful Galatæa died and was buried. Disappointment fell to her portion. Yet the reward and the example of fidelity were bestowed upon, and presented in the fate of, her beloved Acis. She reared to herself a splendid monument. The music of his fate is eternal. When his rival, Polyphemus, crushed him to death with a portion of rock, the Gods, just and faithful in their supremacy, changed the faithful Sicilian shep

herd into a stream. That stream still floweth onwards with its ceaseless melody,-the personification of fidelity-the prosopopoeia of truth. In that bright mirror, let us behold the reflection of a second Galatæa. Let us discourse about the BELLE OF THE VILLAGE.

Say not that the words of severity have been showered upon the Village Coquette;-imagine not that the pencil which drew the portrait was embued with false colours;-utter not the expression that the pen itself, which confirmed the truth of the picture, was dipped in gall. No. If it were even deemed needful to plead guilty to any charge of a similar character, an incontrovertible vindication is supplied by the witty Knight of sack and sugar himself"What? Is not the truth the truth?"

The several qualities, remarkably striking, no doubt, in their particular degree, as well as wonderfully characteristic in their general exemplification-the qualities for which the Village Coquette is noted, have, as is generally the case, been acquired at what is termed the "Ladies' Seminary," through the instrumentality of a false, yet showy,—a seemingly elegant, but fallacious, system of education. It is one of the weaknesses of the present day to