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and pudding, or pork and pease-soup, and pease-pudding, called

THE CITY OF PETRA. by sailors “ Dog's-body," is substituted.

At the close of our notice of Mr. Stephens's “ Incidents of In barbour, however, in any part of the world, and at sea Travel,” allusion is made to the excavated city of Petra. whenever it can be procured, fresh beef is always provided ; Although many accounts of it have appeared since its discovery the allowance being, one pound per day instead of the three by Burckhardt in 1812, a short description of the principal quarters of a pound of salt beef or pork, and half a pound of principal city of the land of Édom--whose antiquity is supposed

features of this extraordinary remnant of the early world—the vegetables instead of the flour and pease. Sometimes 1 to go back to the time of Esau, “ the father of Edom," and pounds of bread, (called Soft Tack,) is substituted for the biscuit, where a long line of princes dwelt even before “ kings reigned and the men are at liberty to vary their allowance by taking

over Israel,”—may be interesting to a considerable portion of raisins, currants, and such, in lieu of a portion of their flour.

our young readers.

“ This ancient and extraordinary city is situated within a Coffee is frequently served in place of cocoa, and when at sea, natural amphitheatre, of two or three miles in circumference, one pint of wine, or a quarter of a pint of spirits, (generally rum,) encompassed on all sides by rugged mountains, 500 or 600 feet is substituted for beer. The rum is always mixed with three in height. The whole of this area is now a waste of ruins, parts of water, making a beverage called "grog," and never

dwelling-houses, palaces, temples, and triumphal arches, all given to the crew in a w state. Whenever apprehension of of the mountains are cut smooth in a perpendicular direction,

prostrate together in undistinguishable confusion. The sides scurvy is entertained, and the men have been long on salt pro- and filled with long and continued ranges of dwelling-houses, visions, some lime-juice and sugar is mixed with the grog, which temples, and tombs, excavated with vast labour out of the solid then becomes cold punch, thereby insuring that the anti-scor- and most savage form, their bases are adorned with all the

rock; and while their summits present nature in her wildest butic, the adoption of which has eradicated that frightful disease, beauty of architecture and art, with columns, and porticoes, and is duly administered; for Jack's predilection for grog is pro- pediments, and ranges of corridors, enduring as the mountains verbial, and he would swallow it even were it impregnated with out of which they are hewn, and fresh as if the work of a genemore questionable substances than lime-juice and sugar, else

ration scarcely yet gone by. his character is traduced by those who accuse him of “ tapping incloses the city. Strong, firm, and immovable as nature itself,

"Nothing can be finer than the immense rocky rampart which the admiral.”

it seems to deride the walls of cities, and the puny fortifications Let those who toil hard to subsist their families, -who suffer of skilful engineers. The only access is by clambering over when incapable of working from sickness, or who frequently this wall of stone, practicable only in one place, or by an fail to obtain employment though ever so well inclined, -- who entrance the most extraordinary that Nature, in her wildest

freaks, has ever framed. The loftiest portals ever raised by the have in the mean time, rent, taxes, and the various calls that hands of man, the proudest monuments of architectural skill perplex the house-keeper, to provide, ponder over the statement and daring, sink into insignificance by the comparison. It is, we have made, and reflect whether the Government has been perhaps, the most wonderful object in the world, except the unmindful of the seaman's interests and comforts, or whether ruins of the city to which it forms the entrance. . .'. For about

two miles this mountainous passage lies between high and preciour tars have any reason to complain. Increased pay they pitous ranges of rocks, from 500 to 1000 feet in height, standshould receive in case of war, not because their labour is (every- ing as if torn asunder by some great convulsion, and barely thing considered) underpaid at present, but because they could wide enough for two horsemen to pass abreast. A swelling then earn very considerably more in the merchant's employment, in some places overhanging the opposite sides, casting the dark

stream rushes between them; the summits are wild and broken; and a poor man's labour being the only capital he possesses, he ness of night upon the narrow defile; then receding and forming should, in a free land, be undoubtedly permitted to carry it to the an opening above, through which a strong ray of light is thrown market where he can make the most of it. In every other down, and illuminates with the blaze of day the frightful chasm

below. Wild fig-trees, oleanders, and ivy, were growing out of respect we consider the man-of-war seaman's condition, one

the rocky sides of the cliffs, hundreds of feet above our heads ; that must be envied by three-fourths of our artisans and even

the eagle was screaming above us; all along were the open small tradesmen, who struggle hard amidst care and anxiety to doors of tombs, forming the great Necropolis of the city; and at keep up appearances, and make "both ends meet.” “ The British the extreme end was a large open space, with a powerful body of sailor is, in fact,” to use the words of a distinguished author*- facade of a beautiful temple, hewn out of the rock, with rows of

light thrown down upon it, and exhibiting in one full view the “ better fed, better lodged, better and cheaper clothed, and better Corinthian columns and ornaments, standing out fair and clear, taken care of in sickness, than any man who must earn bis as if but yesterday from the hands of the sculptor. . . subsistence by the sweat of his brow." In our next we shall give Neither the Coliseum at Rome, grand and interesting as it is, a scale of the crew, the pay of each rank, and the mode of mess

nor the ruins of the Acropolis at Athens, nor the pyramids, nor

the mighty temples of the Nile, are so often present to my ing the officers and men.

memory. The whole temple, its columns, ornaments, porticoes, and porches, are cut out from, and form part of, the solid rock ; and this rock, at the foot of which the temple stands like a mere

print, towers several hundred feet above, its face cut smooth to The Tonsons were a race of booksellers, who did honour to the very summit, and the top remaining wild and misshapen as their profession for their integrity, and by their encouragement Nature made it. The whole area before the temple is perhaps of authors.---Jacob Tonson was Dryden's publisher, and they an acre in extent, inclosed on all sides except at the narrow were on terms of great familiarity in their correspondence. entrance, and an opening to the left of the temple, which leads Tonson's letters are perfectly the tradesman's—pleased with into the area of the city, by a pass through perpendicular rocks, the translation of Ovid, which he had received for the third 500 or 600 feet in height. Miscellany, but not with the price ; having only 1446 lines for 50 guineas, when he had expected to have had at the rate of idea of the various edifices of which this wonderful city is com

A short description of a temple and the theatre will give an 1518 lines for 40 guineas; adding that he had a better bargain with Juvenal, “ which is reckoned not so easy to translate as

posed :Ovid.” The current coin was at that time wretchedly debased.

Ascending several broad steps, we entered under a colonIn one letter, Dryden says, “ I expect forty pounds in good nade of four Corinthian columns, about thirty-five feet high, silver ; not such as I had formerly. I am not obliged to take into a large chamber of some fifty feet square, and twenty-five gold, neither will l; nor stay for it above four-and-twenty feet high. The outside of the temple is richly ornamented, but hours after it is due."

the interior is perfectly plain, there being no ornament of any kind upon the walls or ceiling ; on each of the three sides is a small chamber for the reception of the dead.

JACOB TONSON.

• Sir John Barrow. See his “Life of Earl IIowe."

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“In the bosom of the mountain, hewn out of the solid rock, took her measures very discreetly, and was very careful not is a large theatre, circular in form, the pillars in front fallen, to compromise the aspirant whom she favoured. She had fixed and containing thirty-three rows of seats, capable of containing upon her brother-in-law, the Marquis de St. Nizier. Mademore than 3000 persons. Above the corridor was a range of moiselle de Saurens had known him from her infancy; he doors opening to chambers in the rocks, the seats of the princes was naturally placed on a footing of intimacy with her, and and wealthiest inhabitants of Petra, and not unlike a row of if he had had to do with a person at all like the rest of the private boxes in a modern theatre. The whole theatre is at world, he would have stood an excellent chance of success. this day in such a state of preservation, that if the tenants of Jaines de St. Nizier was young, accomplished, handsome, and the tombs around could once more rise into life, they might take of elegant manners. But Elise had met many such already; their old places on its seats, and listen to the declamation of besides, she was accustomed to his presence, and all his retheir favourite player.”

doubled cares and attentions produced no visible effect. She The author, in some eloquent and instructive reflections had, as she said, the greatest possible esteem for him, but she amidst the ruins of this doomed and desolate city of the land regarded neither his presence nor his absence. This complete of Edom, thus concludes :-"I had just completed one of the indifference was not without effect ; St. Nizier, who at tirst most interesting days in my life; for the singular character of had agreed to his sister's scheme with indifference, became the city, and the upcommon beauty of its ruins, its great anti really and seriously in love, when be found it probable that he quity, the prophetic denunciations of whose truth it was the should not succeed. He, however, was too prudent to hazard a witness, its loss for more than 1000 years to the civilised world, refusal, and, in order to maintain the advantage he possessed, its very existence being known only to the wandering Arab, the carefully confined himself within the limits of friendship. difficulty of reaching it,-gave a thrilling and almost fearful in

Such was the position of the personages of our story, on the terest to the time and place, of which I feel it utterly impossible day when Madame de Montsallier suffered her impatience at to convey any idea."

the apathetic melancholy of her cousin to manifest itself.

“ Well," said she at length, still turning over De Bourdon's

book, “ well, the bathing season has commenced everywhere. ROMANCE AND REASON.

Where shall we go, Elise ?” “Really, my dear,” said Madame de Montsallier, really I “ Have not you been turning over that book these two days, cannot comprehend your sorrows. You ought to be the hap- for the very purpose of deciding that question ?” said Elise, piest person in the world.”

faintly smiling. "I do not deny my happiness," replied Elise, sinking back “Yes; but as I am absolutely determined to carry you off, in her fauteuil with an abstracted air.

I must find out what will suit you. You tell me that all the “But you enjoy nothing. You pass all your days in apathy, world is at Plombières, Vichy, Causerets, Bagnères ; and for a sort of half sleep, from which nothing can arouse you. I could my own part, I do not desire to meet much company at the not live so for four-and-twenty bours.”

baths, since I go there only for my health." “ I assure you, my dear cousin, I am not unhappy."

“Well then, let us seek some fountain, where there is not “With what admirable coolness you make that declaration ! such a concourse of fashion as to renew a Paris life ; some I never heard anything like it," cried Madame de Montsallier, place where we may pass a month free from the persecution of getting almost angry. “Eh ! bon Dieu ! truly I believe you.

the pleasures of the great world, and the inconveniences of a T'he advantages you possess, would make four reasonable women residence from home." happy, if divided among them. To begin, you are young.” Madame de Montsallier shook her head, and returned to the

“Ah!” sighed Elise," and you think that to reckon only " Guide to the Mineral Waters." Excellent !" cried she at twenty years, is all that is necessary to be happy?"

length; "I have found such a place, my dear. Shall we go “Yes, I do,” replied Madame de Montsallier, quickly; “ but to Aix ? Not to Aix in Savoy, but to Aix in Provence.” unhappily that blessing is never understood till it is lost. • Certainly, it will be a peaceful retreat," said Elise, with an But that is not all, Elise ; you are pretty, very pretty.”

air of nonchalance. “What are the virtues of the waters; do they “ I know it," replied she, in an indifferent tone ; “ but what work miracles ?" advantage is it to me, since I am not a coquette ? "

“The greatest of all miracles,” replied Madame de Montsallier, “Well! we ought always to be glad to be able to give plea- with a serious air, “ they restore our youth.”. sure, even if it be only to oneself, when one looks in the glass. “ Well, we will make trial of their virtues," Then you are rich, independent.'

“ Yes, the doctor assures us that these waters contain a prinAnd do you believe that this fortune, this independence, ciple which restores the freshness and beauty of youth ; which are also infallible means of securing happiness?" interrupted renders the skin exquisitely white, elastic, and firm.' Elise, with an air of melancholy disdain. “In my eyes the “But, my fair cousin,' interrupted Elise, “ your complexion delights of vanity and luxury afford no satisfaction, and this so- stands in no need of such cosmetics." much-envied liberty is but a miserable isolation.”

“My dear child, this is an affair of precaution ; I wish to “ It rests with yourself to renounce it," cried Madame de make use of the water of Aix, to prevent future wrinkles, and in Montsallier.

spite of your twenty years, you must do the same." “ Yes,” said Elise with a sigh, “by marrying. Do not speak Elise passed her hand over her white and polished forehead, of it, I beg of you, my dear cousin."

already marked with a slight indentation between the eyeThe conversation ended here, and Madame de Montsallier, to brows. conceal that kind of pet and impatience which the wearisome “Wrinkles !” said she, with a sigh and a smile ; “See, I have melancholy of Elise always created, began to run over the pages one already." of a book which lay open on the table. There was but litile Madame de Montsallier was now all hurry and anxiety to sympathy between the dispositions of the two cousins, but yet depart. The marquis, who did not wish to appear too solicitous they loved one another warmly; The Comtesse de St. Mont of the society of Mademoiselle de Saurens, framed an excuse to sallier was lively, good-humoured, and frivolous ; she had been absent himself, and departed, saying that he should probably a little of a coquette, and her chief care now was to ward off the rejoin them at Aix. hand of time, and preserve as long as possible the relics of her The two ladies set out alone in a travelling carriage, accombeauty.

panied only by their waiting-maids and a valet who followed in Mademoiselle Elise de Saurens possessed both beauty and a berlin. Elise, who at first felt relieved by the fresh air and fortune ; she had been left an orphan in her infancy, and had the excitement of travelling, soon relapsed into her accustomed been brought up by a grandmother, who had indulged her every apathy; there were not even any annoyances or discomforts at fancy. She was in fact satiated with pleasure ; the world had the inns. All their wants were provided for, all their wishes lost all interest with her, and she sought that excitement in the anticipated. pages of the poet and the novelist, which she no longer found After five days' travelling, they found themselves at Avignon, in reality. Her over-fond grandmother died when Elise was they had hitherto rested every night, but they now determined about twenty, and she was now residing with her cousin, who to push on, that they might reach Aix in the morning. acted as her chaperon. From the first, Madame de Mont- Å little before day-break, the carriage was stopped, and the sallier determined in her own mind, that marriage would be the door being opened, the ladies were addressed in the polite and best remedy for the increasing apathy of her cousin ; but she | classical phrase, “Your money or your life!" Starting from her

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slambers, Madame de Montsallier fell trembling at the bottom because he is not quite so old. He has only one good point of the carriage. Mademoiselle de Saurens, quietly looking out, about him, he is brave, and his only chance now is to go as a exclaimed, “Certainly these must be brigands-real brigands; I soldier, for he has spent all he has. thought they had ceased to exist.” “You must get out, ladies," “ Poor young man !” murmured Elise pensively, not daring cried one of the ruffians, in a strong Provençal accent, and there now to look out again. was no alternative but to obey. The postillion lay under the “Will Maʼmselle take the bath this morning ?” horses, and was kept in awe by a robber with a long carbine ; “In a quarter of an hour," replied Elise, and Mariette deMadame de Montsallier was seated on a bank between the two parted. weeping chambermaids; the valet had fainted outright; and What a history had been related! Elise again looked out there stood Elise, amid a dozen brigands in velveteen jackets, through her blinds, and beheld Marius Menier walking slowly leather gaiters, scarfs round their waists, and their faces covered with his head bent down, and with a sad and melancholy air. to the eyes with red handkerchiefs. She looked on the scene In that fine, poetic figure, in those features, she fancied she as they ransacked the trunks, with a strange feeling, but it was could trace the bitterness of a noble mind, agitated by passion not fear.

and remorse. Truly he was the hero of a romance. At length Their researches did not appear to satisfy the bandits. he disappeared, and Elise slowly descended to the bath. Cashmeres and blonde lace had no charms for them.

Her mind had at length found occupation; her thoughts were haired old ruffian came up to Mademoiselle de Saurens, and never absent from the unfortunate brigand. She was absorbed demanded where their money was concealed. “ You have it in the romance of her imagination. Her walks were neglected, all," she replied ; " the valet was our purse-bearer.” “What?” all occupations were uncared for, save her speculations behind cried he ; ** why that was but enough to pay your expenses to

her venetian blinds, as each day Marius Menier appeared in his Marseilles." But we carry a letter of credit.” At this news favourite walk beneath the plane trees. the robber began to swear horribly. At any rate I will have Madame de Montsallier grew weary of Aix, and at length, this," he cried, snatching at a little gold chain around her neck. although reluctantly, Elise consented to return. St. Nizier, She was now really frightened; his rough fingers were about her whose love was stimulated by the unconcern of her he sought, throat, she thought he was going to kill her, her knees trembled would not again leave them. He was, besides, apprehensive that and her voice was stilled; she became insensible, and on recover- his sister's unguarded exultation, at the trick she had played the ing her senses found herself in the arms of a young brigand, brigands with her golden foot-stool, might induce a second from whose handsome features the handkerchief which had attack. On the evening of their first day's journey, they arrived concealed them had fallen. He spoke a few hurried words at a solitary auberge, where no horses could be procured for assuring her of her safety, and assisted in placing her upon the several hours; and after many vain endeavours, they found themcushions which had been thrown out of the carriage. “ Who- selves obliged to remain there that night. St. Nizier was soever you are," said Elise, “accept my thanks--you have anxious, and he took the precaution of sending a messenger to saved my life.” The robber made no reply, but hastily replacing the nearest police station, and in the course of the evening three bis disguise, called the band together, and in an instant they gendarmes arrived as if accidentally, and, the beds being all were gone. She put her hand to her neck, but her chain was occupied, took up their quarters in the kitchen. gone also ; she was troubled. “It is strange!" she murmured

Elise, to whom St. Nizier had mentioned the precautions he to herself, as they renewed the journey ;“ very strange !” had taken, retired to her chamber with a troubled mind. She

Madame de Montsallier amused herself all the way to Aix could not but participate in his fears, but she trembled not for with the thouglat of her dexterity in outwitting the brigands, for herself, but for the hero of her romance. When she looked she had concealed twelve thousand francs in gold in the stuffing around the large apartment in which she found herself alone ; of the stool she put her feet upon.

when she beheld the bare white-washed walls and rude tiled When they reached Aix, Madame de Montsallier lost no time floor, and the great old-fashioned bed which in itself seemed a in making all necessary depositions and setting on foot every sort of prison, walled in with heavy curtains, where perhaps the possible inquiry after the robbers, but all in vain. Meanwhile, spiders were spreading their ancient and complicated pets, she she boasted everywhere of her well stuffed foot-stool. Soon shuddered. She could not compose herself to rest, and seating after their arrival, they were joined by M. de St. Nizier ; the herself in a large leather chair she began to read. Nature how. season was delightful, the country in all its beauty, and the fine ever asserted ber privilege, and the maiden slept; but her sleep air of that lovely climate had its influence; but still Elise was was troubled with dreams. It seemed to her as if a doubtful thoughtful and pre-occupied. Her mind still dwelt upon the twilight replaced the darkness, and on the rocks before her handsome brigand, and she busied herself with a thousand fan- window, shadows were moving ; presently several men seemed cied ills, which might have forced him to embrace so fearful a to approach the house, and try the doors and windows, and one profession.

sprang forward and tried to scale the walls. With an instinctive One morning she was seated at her window which looked movement she thrust forth her hands to hurl him back, but her upon the gardens of the bath-house, when she beheld a man, lips refused to utter any sound. Presently a sharp and distinct who, walking slowly along the terrace, laid himself down at the noise awakened her senses; she sprang up, and beheld before her foot of a spreading plane tree, and throwing aside the book he the same man with his broad-brimmed hat, beneath which his had been reading, leant against the trunk and seemed to sleep. eyes sparkled, and the red handkerchief concealing the lower part It was he,-the old grey riding coat and shabby straw hat could of his face. She stood as if petrified. At that instant the report not disguise the noble figure and handsome features of the of fire-arms was heard. The robber sprang towards the open bandit-chief. Elise remained fixed in fearful astonishment. This window. “I am lost," he exclaimed, the gendarmes are then was he, whom she had pictured to herself as an unhappy here."'. Elise recovered her self possession : " You shall be youth of poble mind, forced by some miseralle but unconquer- saved," said she, “hide yourself beneath the bed.” Marius able fate to link himself with robbers; his delicate solicitude Menier, full of astonishment, obeyed. for her safety satisfied her it was so : and now, what if he A knock was heard at the door, which was opened directly by should be discovered, what if some other eye than hers should Mademoiselle de Saurens, and James de St. Nizier rushed in, recognise him?

followed by t:o gendarmes. At this moment one of the attendants of the bathing house " Where is he?" cried St. Nizier. entered. Elise resolved to question her : she pointed out the " There is none here but me. What is the matter?" object of her inquiry and asked if he was known.

“Robbers have attempted the house ; a beggar, who was "Oh yes, Maʼmselle,” said Mariette, in a disdainful tone, as if sleeping in the barn, gave us warning: we went out and beheld the name she mentioned were enough to satisfy all interest, 'tis one climbing in at your open window." Marius Menier."

“ You must have been deceived; I was reading here,” said " But who is he? Is he of this neighbourhood ?" Yes, Elise, pointing to her open book, “and was alarmed by the Ma’mselle, but he is no credit to us. He was well off once, report of your pistol.” but he is a mauvais sujet; his father left him a pretty property; “ You were too hasty, M. de St. Nizier," said one of the genhe has squandered it all, and many a poor girl owes her ruin to darmes ; " if you had' but waited till he had got in, we would him; and now he is a gambler, he is lazy, haughty, quarreld have had him, dead or alive." some, and in short he has more faults than there are Ave Marias “ But you would have been dreadsully frightened,” said St. in my chaplet, and he is only not quite so wicked as the devil, Nizier, " and it was that, that I cared for."

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All is over,” said Mademoiselle de Saurens, commanding tion. It is often so with myself, but I must remedy the evil. her trembling voice as well as she could; “ the danger is over, it is necessary for me to seek another world ; to break through and you had better go down."

my old habits, and I intend to travel." “ But, Mademoiselle," said St. Nizier, “you are pale and " What," said Elise with a sigh, “and you will leave us ?" you tremble ; you must not remain here alone.”

“ I have long thought of taking a voyage to our foreign coloNo, no," said she quickly; “I will go to Madame Mont- nies ; I have some relations in the Isle of Bourbon." sallier, and nobody need stay here." So saying, she took her “ But why is it necessary that you should cross the waters to candle, and when all the rest had passed, went out, locked the the other end of the world?” And then, seeing that he did not door, carried away the key, and hurried to her cousin's room. reply, she added reprouchfully, “ You are weary of us.” When she reached it, she fainted. Early the next morning, No, no," said he, “ but I am unhappy here." Elise mounted the narrow staircase which led to her chamber, A ray of light suddenly struck upon Mademoiselle de Saurens, and, with an indescribable feeling of apprehension, she opened she blushed slightly, and hastily rose to meet Madame de Montthe door. No one was there. She lifted her eyes to heaven; sallier, who just then entered. For the first time, she suspected “My God! he is then saved

the love which James de St. Nizier bore towards her. In passing by the window her foot was arrested by some On the afternoon of this day they were all in the drawinghard substance; she stooped and picked up a knife, ground to a The weather was dreadful; the wind howled in the sharp edge, on the handle of which two M's, intertwined, were chimneys; the lightning flashed, and large drops of rain began engraved on a silver plate.

to fall. "

What a terrible storm!” said Madame de Montsallier ; St. Nizier, whose love was still increasing, and who perceived “let us close the shutters and light the candles.” some feeling he could not fathom, would now not quit her; Just then, the keeper of the lodge at the park gate entered, Elise still sought retirement, and hod no desire for Paris. They and informed them that a gentleman had sought shelter from spent three months in Switzerland, and then, at the desire of the storm, and Madame de Montsallier immediately sent down Elise, they revisited Aix, when she soon drew from Mariette a messenger to request him to accept the hospitality of Aumont the fortunes of her hero. He was once more rich ; his uncle, for that night. The stranger soon appeared, but although he who had cast him off on account of his debaucheries, had died was graciously received by Madame de Montsallier, yet St. intestate ; Marius Menier had succeeded to his inheritance, and Nizier, who was about to advance, stopped short, and saluted was now spending it in the capital. Elise no longer made ob- him coldly, and Elise stood immoveable with surprise and jections to proceeding to Paris.

pleasure ; it was Marius Menier who had been taught this One evening when she was, as was her wont, plunged in sadness stratagem by love. They sat down, and Menier looked about and mournful apathy, Madame de Montsallier determined to carry him with an expression of countenance on which restraint, uneasiher to the opera; to a great musical performance, the first ness, and impudent boldness, were curiously blended. representation of Robert le Diable. Mademoiselle de Saurens “ The storm has been dreadful,” remarked Madame de Montsuffered herself to be dressed without feeling any interest in that sallier, “it was most fortunate that you have found a shelter." serious occupation which so much distracts the minds of most Yes, ma'am,” said Menier, putting his hat on tbe floor

Yet her attire so well became her, that Madame de and leaning back in his chair, I've had a regular soaking ; I'm Montsallier could not help exclaiming, My dear Elise, I never as wet as a sop.” saw you look so charming.” It was true her pale face bore A glance of intelligence passed between St. Nizier and his sister. traces of suffering; but yet her languid head, which seemed “Fine weather for young ducks ; 'twill make the gardens grow, to yield beneath the weight of some unknown grief, shone as we say in my country, but what's that to us who an't gardivinely beautiful beneath the crown of roses. James de St. deners ? " Nizier felt his eyes fill with tears when he looked on her. When No one replying, he continued, after staring all round the she arrived at the opera, she at first felt little interest, but at the last scene Madame de Montsallier made her sit by her in the " Very handsome house this ; pray does it belong to you?" front of the box ;-thenceforward the opera was disregarded. “ It is the property of this lady, Madame de Montsallier, my There, in the pit, separated from her but by a few yards, sat sister-in-law,” replied St. Nizier, who had quite recovered his Marius Menier, not as she had heretofore beheld him, but well good humour. dressed, perhaps rather over dressed. Her eyes were fixed on The stranger made a very low bow. him, and he failed not to recognise her. From this time her “ May we not, continued St. Nizier, “ have the pleasure of visits were frequent to the opera ; and Menier was equally knowing whom Madame de Montsallier has the honour of regular in his attendance.

receiving?" About this time, James de St. Nizier was obliged to visit Eng- “Assuredly, sir ; the honour is on my side. My name is land on business; he remained absent six weeks. The day after | Menier. his return he accompanied his sister and Elise to the opera. Marius Menier was in his accustomed place, and St. Nizier was dragoons; I presume he is related to you.'

"I am acquainted with a M. Menier, an officer in the not slow in remarking the young man whose looks were con- " Possibly ; I have a cousin a soldier, but I don't know his stantly fixed on his box. His cousin, Jules de la Chassaig. rank. He enlisted and went to the siege of Algiers, and I did neraie, happening to drop in, he pointed out the object of hear he got some pretty hard knocks among the Bedouins." his attention and asked if he knew him. “I know his name,' Whilst this conversation was going on, the dreams of poor he replied, “ the box opener says it is Menier; he is met every- Elise vanished. Her head seemed to turn round. This, then, was where, except in good society.

the hero of her fancy,—this man, vulgar, insipid, and affected. Elise bent over the front of the box to hide her confusion; Dinner was at length announced. The stranger, dragging on she had never before heard his name spoken before her, except his yellow gloves, hastened to offer his arm to Mademoiselle by Mariette.

de Saurens, who had not spoken a word, or even looked at him; The next day, St. Nizier proposed that, as the season was she trembled as she felt him press her hand, and the thought almost closed, they should go to Aumont, to enjoy the beauties that she had tacitly given him the right to behave thus, filled of the spring; Madame de Montsallier, who enjoyed nothing so her with terror and despair ; but when, about to sit down, she much as movement, joyfully assented, and Elise was fain to saw that he wore round his neck the very chain which the old comply also.

robber had endeavoured to seize, tears of grief and indignation One morning Elise was sitting in the drawing-room holding a rolled over her cheeks. Madame de Montsallier perceived her book in her hand, not one page of which had she turned over ; uneasiness, and inquired the cause. She recovered herself, and there she remained with her hands resting on her knees, and attributing it to the storm and thunder, which had affected her eyes fixed on the lines which she saw not. St. Nizier sur

her nerves, and brought on headache, seated herself at table. prised her in this attitude.

The dinner was a martyrdom. The vulgarity and coarseness of May I inquire," asked he, in a slightly ironical tone, “what Marius Menier became every moment more offensive, and even book it is which so deeply interests you ?

Madame de Montsallier, who had been at first amused, began to Really I cannot say," she replied, “I was not reading; I be hertily weary of her guest. Immediately after dinner, Elise find it difficult to fix my attention."

retreated to her chamber, and did not reappear that evening. I know nothing here can interest you, for nothing passes Here in sadness and solitude many thoughts passed through which is sufficient to affect your mind, yonr heart, your imagina- | her mind; all her follies were now perceived, a new light

room :

streamed upon her, and many resolutions against the indulgence of phantasies were made.

PARAGUAY AND THE DICTATOR FRANCIA *. Late at night, as she sat alone, busily occupied in burning PARAGUAY has bitherto been almost unknown in England, many papers written whilst indulging the fancy now dissipated for scarcely had the country been released from the oppressive for ever, she was alarmed by a slight noise. “Is that you, policy of the Spanish government, and an opening made for the Lucy?" said Mademoiselle de Saurens.

introduction of foreign commerce, than it fell under the power of No answer was returned, but the door softly opened, and a despotic ruler, who, although at first professing the greatest Marius Menier entered. Elise sprang towards the bell, but he liberality, was all the while meditating the accomplishment of his intercepted her.

schemes of tyranny. In these he has too well succeeded, and for “Do not he alarmed, Mademoiselle,” said he, " you must many years Paraguay has been but one vast prison, and Francia, know I have no evil intention against you.”

its stern, cold, and cruel jailer. Neither ingress nor egress has " Leave me, Sir, leave me, or I will alarm the house." been permitted, and scarcely anything but vague rumours of its

"What is the meaning of all this?” said he, with surprise ; condition and government has been made public, until the puhyou seem to have forgotten me. Have we not made love to lication of the volumes mentioned below. ** Paraguay," say the one another these two months ? at a distance, it is true, but still authors in an address to their readers, prefixed to Francia's I spoke to you with my eyes, and you have answered—” * Reigo of Terror,' “was a land which, when we took up the subject,

"Stop, Sir, I beg of you," interrupted Elise, full of indignation. was enveloped in a vague and misty celebrity. Most people who

“You shall hear me,” said Menier, in an angry tone. “I had read anything of the New World, knew that there was a am not to be silenced in this manner. I am as good to-day as I beautiful and fertile region of that name a long way inland in was last Monday, when your eyes smiled upon me at the opera ; some part or other of South America ; that it produced a sort of those eyes which I adore. Yes, on my word of honour, I love tea, as generally used in those parts as we use the Chinese plant you as I never yet loved a woman. My intentions are honour. in England ; that it had been the seat of the Jesuits ; that it had able, and why should you disdain me? I have ten thousand become, in common with all parts of Spanish America, indepen. francs a year, slap down on the nail. I may have been a little dent of the mother country ; and that it had at last come under wild or so perhaps, but I have reformed now, and marriage will the rule of a strange and incomprehensible person called Dr. be a good wind up. I came here led by love, and in the expec- Francia. Such, in general terms, was the extent of knowledge tation of pleasing you."

which the bulk of English readers possessed of Paraguay." “You deceive yourself, Sir," cried poor Elise, “ you deceive Messrs. Robertson have now come forward to supply this yourself, and I cannot pardon this insult, unless you leave the want, and in their volumes have given us very ample informaroom this instant."

tion, derived from the knowledge obtained during personal obser"I will not,” cried Menier, raising his voice. “ I tell you, I vations in the country from the beginning of the year 1811, came here, because, for these two months, you have been when they formed a mercantile establishment at Assumption, to seeking me"

October, 1815, when they were banished by the Dictator, and "I did wish to have an interview with you," interrupted since that period, from knowledge obtained during a residence Elise, “but you have quite mistaken the motive."

at Conientes and Buenos Ayres. They give us a detailed She stepped to her secretaire, and drew forth the knife she account of Francia's character and progress, which possesses a had found at the auberge. “I wished to return this instru- deep interest ; their personal adventures are related, and in their ment to you, and to seek in exchange the little chain you wear description of the society of Paraguay, and of the neighbouring round your neck."

country, much curious information is given; take for instance The countenance of Menier grew black as night, and his eyes this specimen of Candioti, the prince of the Gauchost, as our flashed fire: Elise trembled, and in fancy she already felt the authors term him. sharp blade in her heart. The pause was but for a moment. “This prince of the Gauchos was a prince in nothing more Menier took the knife, and cutting the chain, threw it on the than in that noble simplicity which characterised his whole table, and merely saying, “Let all that has passed between us deportment. He was too high in his own sphere of action to be forgotten-Good night, Mademoiselle," he left the room. fear competition ; too independent to condescend to civility for

Elise shut and double-locked the door ; then falling on her mere personal advantage ; and too ingenuous to admit into his knees, returned thanks to Heaven for her deliverance.

breast a thought of acting the hypocrite. He continued sitting The next morning James de St. Nizier and Madame de on his horse, and kept up a familiar chit-chat with all around. Montsallier were waiting in the breakfast-room for Elise, who, Every now and then he lighted his cigar by striking fire with a contrary to her custom, came down late.

flint and steel on tinder kept in a polished tip of horn, which Good morning, my dear,” said Madame de Montsallier, was embossed with silver, and had a gold chain attached to it, " you may enter fearlessly; our amiable guest is gone without by which the lid, or rather extinguisher, depended, while the the ceremony of leave-taking."

horn was in use. As I looked at him I could not but admire his “So much the better,” said Elise, with a deep sigh.

singularly handsome face and dignified mien. His small mouth, There was a pause. St. Nizier, with his eyes fixed on the and strictly Grecian nose ; his noble forehead, and fine head newspaper, appeared be reading.

thinly strewed with silver locks; his penetrating blue eyes, and "My dear,'said Madame de Montsallier, in a tone much countenance as hale and ruddy as if he had spent his days in sadder than was usual with her, "we must return to Paris to- Norway, instead of riding over the Pampas, were all remarkable. morrow; we shall be too lonely here, when James has left us." Then, for his attire, according to the style and fashion of the

“What !” said Elise with an air of concern and surprise, country, it was magnificent. His poncho had been made in Peru, "does M. de St. Nizier set off to-day ?

and, beside being of the richest material, was embroidered on a "I do, Mademoiselle," said he, without raising his eyes : but white ground in superb style. Beneath it he wore a jacket of his trembling voice betrayed deep and melancholy feeling. the finest Iodia cloth, covering a white satin waistcoat, which,

There was another pause, and then Elise rose and ap- like his poncho, was beautifully embroidered, and adorned with proached Madame de Montsallier, whose eyes were full of tears. small gold buttons, each depending from a little link of chain of Leaning her head on the countess's shoulder, she whispered the same metal. He had no cravat, and the collar and front of softly, “My dear cousin, tell him-tell him that I wish him to his shirt displayed, upon fine French cambric, the richest speci.

mens of tambouring which could be furnished in Paraguay. His lower vestment was of black velvet, open at the knees, and, like

the waistcoat, adorned with gold buttons, depending also from Gaitty and a light heart, in all virtue and decoram, are the little links of chain,

evidently never intended for connexion with best medium for the young, or rather for all. I who have the button-holes. From under this part of his dress were to be passed my life in dejection and gloomy thoughts, now catch at

seen the fringed and tamboured extremities of a pair of drawers, enjoyment, come from what quarter it may, and even seek for it. made of the fine Paraguay cloth. They were ample as a TurkoCriminal pleasure, indeed, comes from Satan; but that which we

* Letters on Paraguay, by J. P. and W. P. Robertson, 2 vols. 12mo. find in the society of good and pious men is approved by God.

London, 1838, Murray; and Francia's Reign of Terror. Sequel to Letters Ride, hunt with your friends, amuse yourself in their company. on Paraguay, by J. P. & W. P. Robertson, 1 vol. 12mo. London, 1839. Solitude and melancholy are poison. They are deadly to all, Murray. but, above all, to the young.-Luther.

+ Inhabitants of the Pampas or plain country.

stay here."

GAIETY.

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