66

British CoYEAR. lonies in

United
States of

Total to

Good

Australian
Colonies.

TOTAL.

1826 12,818 1827 | 12,648

thirteen years 1825 to 1837 inclusive, only 28,642, or about one

A PHYSICIAN'S OPINION ON THE SABBATH. twenty-fourth part of the whole, were destined for the Australian settlements. Its natural features seem, indeed, to preclude the

The following observations of Dr. Farre, given before a compossibility of this country's becoming the seat of a dense popula- mittee of the House of Commons, will be read with deep interest tion, except in a few isolated spots ; for with its vast extent of by every reflecting man :desert plains, its great scarcity of water, and its want of perma

• I have been in the habit, during a great many years, of consinent rivers, it is, in general, neither fit for cultivation, nor pos- dering the uses of the Sabbath, and of observing its abuses

. The sessed of the means of communication from one district to

abuses are chiefly manifested in labour and dissipation. The use, another.” But we really know too little to speculate on the medically speaking, is that of a day of rest. In a theological sense general capabilities of Australia.

it is a holy rest, providivg for the introduction of new and sublimer Returning homeward, we cross the American continent, and ideas into the mind of man, preparing him for his future state. pause to glance at that great extent of territory, from the bound. As a day of rest, I view it as a day of compensation for the inade. aries of the United States to the Arctic Ocean, which acknowledges quate restorative power of the body under continued labour and the dominion of Britain. With the exception of the Canadas, no excitement. A physician always has respect to the preservation part of this region may be considered as at present capable of of the restorative power, because, if once this be lost, his healing being colonised : between two and three millions of square miles office is at an end. If I show you, from the physiological view of are given up to the Hudson's Bay Fur Company, and the scattered the question, that there are provisions in the laws of nature which Indians who supply the Company with furs. The country is not correspond with the divine commandment, you will see from the destitute of mineral and other productions, but its present wealth analogy that the Sabbath was made for man' as a necessary lies in its animals, its different kinds of deer, bears, beavers, foxes, appointment. A physician is anxious to preserve the balance of otters, &c., which are hunted for the sake of their flesh and skins, circulation, as necessary to the restorative power of the body.

The West Indian islands are the last of our possessions that the ordinary exertions of man run down the circulation every shall detain us at present. Here, an entirely new state of society day of his life; and the first general law of nature by which God is evolving, an experiment which should cause us much anxiety (who is not only the giver, but also the preserver and sustainer, of and much watchfulness. If the experiment is successful, these life) prevents man from destroying himself, is the alternating of fertile islands will become of new value-for their resources, instead day with night, that repose may succeed action. But although of being exhausted, will be much more fully developed.

the night apparently equalises the circulation well, yet it does not The following Table of Emigration to the British Colonies and sufficiently restore its balance for the attainment of a long life. to the United States, is from a recent Parliamentary document.

Hence one day in seven, by the bounty of Providence, is thrown

in as a day of compensation, to perfect by its repose the animal Cape of

system. You may easily determine this question, as a matter-ofN.America America.

America.
Ilope.

fact, by trying it on beasts of burden. Take that fine animal, the

horse, and work him to the full extent of his powers every day in 1825 8,741

5,531 14,292 114 485 14,891 the week, or give him rest one day in seven, and you will soon 7,063 19,881 116 903 20,900

perceive, by the superior vigour with which he performs his func14,526 27,174 114 715 28,003 tions on the other six days, that this rest is necessary to his well1828 | 12,084 | 12,817

24,901 135 1,056 26,092 being. Man, possessing a superior nature, is borne along by the 1829 15,678 28.985

197
2,016

31,198 very vigour of his mind, so that the injury of continued diurnal 1830 | 30,574 | 24,887 55,461 201 1,242 56,907

exertion and excitement on his animal system is not so imme1831 | 58,067 | 23,418

81,485 114 1,561 83,160 diately apparent as it is in the brute; but in the long run he 1832 66,339 32,872 99,211 196 3,733 103,110

breaks down more suddenly; it abridges the length of his life and 1833 29,109 57,917 517 4,09:3 62,527

that vigour of his old age, which (as to mere animal power) ought 33,074 73,134 288 2,800 76,222 to be the object of his preservation. I consider, therefore, that, 26,720 42,293 325 1,860 44,478

in the bountiful provision of Providence for the preservation of 37,774 72,000

293
3,124 75,417

human life, the sabbatical appointment is not, as it has been some1837 29,884 36,770 66,654

326 5,054 72,034

times theologically viewed, simply a precept partaking of the nature

of a political institution ; but that it is to be numbered amongst the Totals363,129 300,259 663,388 3,939 28,642 649,969

natural duties, if the preservation of life be admitted to be a duty, and the premature destruction of it a suicidal act. This is said

simply as a physician, and without reference at all to the theoloLINES

gical question; but if you consider further the proper effect of FRITTEN IN THE BLANK PAGE OF AN OLD COPY OF LOVELACE'S "LUCASTA."

real Christianity-namely, peace of mind, confiding trust in God, A steede ! a steede of matchless speede !

and good-will to man-you will perceive in this source of renewed A sword of metal keene !

vigour to the mind, and through the mind to the body, an additional Al else to noble heartes is drosse

spring of life imparted from this higher use of the Sabbath as a holy Al else on earth is meane.

Were I to pursue this part of the question, I should be The neighynge of the war-horse prowde,

touching on the duties committed to the clergy; but this I will The rowleinge of the drum,

say, that researches in physiology, by the analogy of the working The clangour of the trumpet lowde

of Providence in nature, will establish the truth of revelation, and Be sounds from heaven that come.

consequently show that the divine commandment is not to be conAnd oh! the thundering presse of knightes,

sidered as an arbitrary enactment, but as an appointment neces. When as their war-cryes swelle,

sary to man. This is the position in which I would place it, as May toll from heaven an angel brighte,

contradistinguished from precept and legislation ; I would point And rowse a fiend from hell.

out the sabbatical rest as necessary to man, and that the great Then mounte! then mounte, brave gallants all!

enemies of the Sabbath, and consequently the enemies of man, And don your helms amaine ;

are all laborious exercises of the body or mind, and dissipatior., Death's couriers, Fame and Honour, call

which force the circulation on that day in which it should repose; Us to the field againe.

whilst relaxation from the ordinary cares of life, the enjoyment of No shrewish tears shall fill our eye

this repose in the bosom of one's family, with the religious studies When the sword-bilt's in our hand;

and duties which the day enjoins, (not one of which, if rightly exerHeart-whole we'll parte, and no whit sighe

cised, tends to abridge life,) constitute the beneficial and appro. For the fayrest of the land.

priate service of the day. The student of nature, in becoming the Let piping swaine, and craven wight,

student of Christ, will find in the principles of his doctrine and Thus weepe, and puling crye;

law, and in the practical application of them, the only and perfect Our business is like men to fyghte,

science which prolongs the present, and perfects the future life.” And like to heroes die !

–From Molesworth's Domestic Chaplain.

13,307

28,808 1834 40,060 1835 | 15,573 1836 34,226

a

a

rest.

.

AN AMERICAN SKETCH.

BY MISS LESLIE.

66

more.

66

a

MRS. CHALONER'S VISIT *.

in the flowers of others. The heat was so great that all the real curls came out, and hung in strings ; and numbers of ladies caught

violent colds from passing nearly the whole time on the stairs, and "! have pleasant news for you, my dear,” said Mr. Gilmore in the entry, for the sake of coolness. to his wife, as he came in to dinner; your old friend Mrs.

“And you regret that your friend, Mrs. Chaloner, was not Chaloner is in town."

here to enjoy all this ?'' said Mr. Gilmore. “What, Cornelia Adderley that was ?” exclaimed Mrs. Gil

Enjoy ?” returned his wife. "Was it not a splendid party? “We were certainly intimate enough when girls, our

Think of the sum that it cost.”

“ You need not tell me that,” said the husband. «« Rather too families living for several years next door ; but since Cornelia married and removed to a remote part of Virginia, we have lost sight large a sum to be expended by persons in middle life, for one of cach other. We corresponded for awhile at first, but our letters evening of pain-pleasure I am sure it was not to any human gradually became less frequent, and at last ceased entirely, for you

being. know I was married myself soon after Cornelia, and then I lost

- Middle life !" repeated Mrs. Gilmore; “ you are always all inclination for letter-writing; as is generally the case, I believe, talking of our being in middle life, even before strangers.” with women that are settled in life, and have no longer anything

“ So we are. And even if we were to expend five times the sum to write about."

on one evening of foolery and suffering, I doubt if we should still "Well,” said Mr. Gilmore, “ you will no doubt be glad to be admitted into what is termed high life.” renew your friendship with the ci-devant Cornelia Adderley, whom

“ You know well enough," replied Mrs. Gilmore, “ that I have I recollect as an uncommonly fine girl. You know, we heard of friends at whose houses I have met with people of the very first the death of Mr. Chaloner eight or nine years ago. She has been

rank and fashion-people who treated me so politely when I was spending most of the winter at Washington, having had business introduced, that I did not hesitate to call on them previous to my with Congress, on account of a claim of her late husband's against party, as a preparatory step to sending them invitations." the United States. She is here with some friends from the south,

“But did they come when thus you called on them?” asked and they leave town for Boston in a few days."

her husband, smiling. “ But who told you all this?" asked Mrs. Gilmore.

“Nonsense, Mr. Gilmore," replied the lady, “ they all sent “ Herself," was his reply; “I stepped in at the United very reasonable excuses, and sincere regrets." States Hotel, to inquire if Mr. Atkinson had yet arrived, and I

· Well," resumed Mr. Gilmore, we have discussed this subject saw her name on the book. So, believing it to be that of our old often enough. But what is it all to the widow Chaloner?” friend, I made her a visit and introduced myself ;-Mrs. Chaloner

“Why I don't know exactly what to do with her-I cannot give and her party have a private parlour at the hotel. I was glad to another party this season.' find that she recognised me even before I mentioned my name,

“Heaven forbid you should !” ejaculated her husband. notwithstanding the lapse of more than sixteen years. You know

“Well, as to inviting a small select company to meet Mrs. her marriage took place about three months before ours."

Chaloner, as some people would, that's quite out of my way. I “ How long will Mrs. Chaloner remain in town?" asked Mrs. give one great party every season, and then I have done my duty, Gilmore.

and my conscience is clear till next season : having paid off my • Only two or three days. Of course, you will call and see her debts to all that have invited me to their parties, and laid a foun. this afternoon, and show her all possible kindness during her stay dation for future invitations next winter. in Philadelphia."

· Notwithstanding all this,” said Mr. Gilmore, “ my advice is, "I am just thinking how that is to be managed. What a pity that you invite Mrs. Chaloner for to-morrow evening, and ask she did not arrive in town a month ago, and then I could have fifteen or twenty agreeable people to meet her.” had her at my party!"

“Well then," replied Mrs. Gilmore, “ we must light up the “ That would have been nothing," said Mr. Gilmore.

parlours, and have ice-creams, and other such things, and hire “Nothing—my dear, how can you talk so! What better could Carroll to help Peter hand them round. All this would cost as I have done for Cornelia Chaloner, than to invite her with all my dying for another of them. There is one that is worked all round

much as one of Vanharlingen's new style pelerines, and I am other friends ?" “ Friends !" exclaimed her husband ;

“why will you persist in in a running pattern—" calling a crowd of several hundred people your friends !"

“Never mind the running pattern,” interrupted her husband, “So they were," said Mrs. Gilmore. • You know very well it

“but endeavour to devise some way of evincing your pleasure at was not a general party."

meeting again with one of the most intimate friends of your early “ Is it possible you were acquainted with even the names of all youth. I remember her as a very handsome and agreeable the people I saw here that night?” asked Mr. Gilmore.

"I girl, and she is now a most agreeable woman, and handsome still." know not what you call a general party if that was not one.”

“ Have you any idea what her circumstances are ?" “Well, it was not," resumed the wife. “ A general party is

“ Not in the least." when we ask everybody with whom we are on visiting terms:

“ How was she dressed ?" and invite by families, even when some of the members are not

“ I did not observe.” exactly such as we like to show to the élite of our circle. For

“That is so like you. I am sure if I were to buy all my things instance, I did not ask Mrs. Lilburn's sisters, though they live in

at the cheap stores, where they keep nothing but trash, and have the house with her, nor Mrs. Laidley's neither ; nor Mrs. Wil.

them made up by cheap mantua-makers and milliners, you would kinson's cousin Margaret ;, nor Mrs. Bramfield's two step- be none the wiser. I do not believe you would know the difference daughters, though I had all three of her own; nor the Miss between a bonnet from Gaubert's or Pintard's and one made in Herberts' aunt; nor Mrs. Danby's sister-in-law ; nor Mrs. the Northern Liberties." Ashton's neither ; also, I invited nobody that lives north of Ches

“I am certain 1 sbould not,” replied her husband; “ but let nut-street. Now, if I had not taken care beforehand, to have

us now postpone this discussion, and go to dinner.” it understood that I was not going to give a general party, I

In the afternoon, as they proceeded together towards the United should have been obliged to invite all these people.”

States Hotel, the subject was renewed by Mrs. Gilmore saying: " In other words," observed Mr. Gilmore, "a general party is

-"As to my troubling myself with any extra evening company, one in which the feelings of all your acquaintances are respected : after having given my party, that is entirely out of the question. whereas they may be offended with impunity, if your crowd is

" Then invite Mrs. Chaloner to dinner,” said Mr. Gilmore, designated as select."

" and ask the Roxleys, and Harmans, and Lysters, to meet her; “Well," resumed Mrs. Gilmore. “ I am sure there was crowd they are among the pleasantest people we know." enough ; notwithstanding that I left out everybody whom there

I cannot undertake all that,” replied the lady ; "the trouble was no advantage in having. Not half the ladies even saw the and expense of a dinner would far exceed that of a small tea supper-table ; at least, no more of it than the tops of the sugar party. temples and pyramids. And when the dancing commenced, there

“In this instance I am willing to pay the cost,” said Mr. was only room for half-cotillions, of four people in each.' And Gilmore, " for I expect some gratification in return for it.” the sleeves were all pressed flat, as everybody was jammed into

“You talk of your own gratification,” said Mrs. Gilmore, one mass ; and the blond of some was torn toʻtatters by catching her the

superb silver card-case that she saw at Baily and Kitchen's

" and yet you refuse to make poor Mary Jane happy by giving . From the "Gift."

the day she got her last ear-rings, and that she has been longing

for erer since. But, to make an end of all this arguing, the she must take me as she finds me; that is in the nursery, where cheapest way of entertaining Cornelia Chaloner, is-—"

I can be at my ease in a wrapper. As for having such parlours “ Cheapest !” said Mr. Gilmore, indignantly.

as ours littered with sewing, that is quite out of the question. “ Yes, to be sure,” pursued his wife. “ Is it not our duty to And besides, they are so much darkened by the window-curtains, consult cheapness in all unnecessary expenses? You know that that there is no seeing to thread a needle, or to read a word even we have a large family, and now that Mary Jane has come out, in the annuals that lie on the centre table." oar bills for articles of dress and jewellery are of course very " But she might look out of the window," observed Mary much enhanced.”

Jane. “I know that perfectly," replied Mr. Gilmore; “she ought “ She could not see much through the muslin blinds," replied not to have come out for at least two years,-seventeen would Mrs. Gilmore, “they are worked so closely all over, and I won't have been quite time enough.”

have them rumpled by drawing aside." * There was no possibility of keeping her in,” remarked Mrs. “ It is well pa's not at home,” remarked the daughter. Gilmore.

“I am very glad he is not," resumed Mrs. Gilmore. “He and “ But, as I was saying, the cheapest way is to invite Cornelia I have such different views with regard to entertaining company, Chaloner to stay at our house while she is in town; and she will and he is always so hard to counteract. However, Mary Jane, no doubt consider it a greater compliinent than if we made a you must constantly bear in mind that it is the duty of all children dinner or tea party for her. It will look as if we desired only to consider their father superior to every man in the world.” the pleasure of her society, and were unwilling to lose any part of Yes, mama,” replied Mary Jane ; "but you know very it by sharing it with others.”

well that 'pa has a great many queer notions." "I am not certain though," said Mr. Gilmore, “that she will “ Undoubtedly he has," answered the mother, "and he is in find our society (if we give her nothing else) a sufficient com- every respect the reverse of myself. But remember always that pensation for what she will lose by resigning that of the friends it is your duty as a child to be blind to his faults, however great with whom she is staying at the hotel.”

they may be." “ How you talk !” replied Mrs. Gilmore. “ Have you no About eleven o'clock, Mrs. Chaloner came to the door in a idea of the delight of calling up recollections of our days of girls carriage, with a small trunk containing a change of clothes. hood, and of discussing once more our former lovers ?”

“ Dear me!” said Mrs. Gilmore," who would have thought of her ** It will not take you very long to get through your old sweet- being here before twelve, at the earliest. When I urged her to hearts,” observed Mr. Gilmore,—“ myself and the two mid- come directly after breakfast, I had no idea that she would take shipmen make three."

me at my word; nobody ever does. Run down, Mary Jane, and Before the lady could reply, they had reached the door of show Mrs. Chaloner into the back spare bed-room till she gets her the United States Hotel, and were immediately conducted to the bonnet off, and then bring her into the nursery; I shall not put parlour occupied by Mrs. Chaloner and her party. They found myself the least out of my way. If visitors will come, they must her alone and expecting them, as Mr. Gilmore had told her he take me as they find me. would bring his wife to see her that afternoon. She received Accordingly Mrs. Chaloner was ushered into the nursery ; a Mrs. Gilmore with open arms, and both ladies seemed very glad to long narrow room in that part of the house denominated the back meet again after so long a separation ; for they had been extremely building, with a low ceiling, low windows, and a door opening into intimate at so early an age that the characters of both were still a sort of balcony or verandah. This apartment always presented a unformed.

most disorderly appearance, and the furniture (which was very Mrs. Gilmore examined the dress of her friend with a 'scru- plain) had been much abused by the children. But though it was tinising eye, and wondered how a woman could look so well in a the constant abiding-place of the successive Irish nurses, it was plain black silk; and wondered, also, why any one with such a in the nursery that Mrs. Gilmore spent most of her time; there profusion of fine hair should wear a cap, and why it should be a she sat in the full enjoyment of extreme déshabiller, except when little close cap simply trimmed with white riband. Yet she now in an exuberance of finery she went out for the purpose of felt rather glad that Mrs. Chaloner had not come to town a month shopping, or of making visits by leaving her card; her professed sooner. “ After all,” thought she, “poor Cornelia would not devotion to her children never preventing her, during the season, have been much of an ornament to my party; for I can easily from spending the first part of every evening at her toilet, and see that her style is always very plain. To be sure, as it was not the last at a large party, a general party, I need not have asked her. Yes, yes—I see “My dear Cornelia,” said Mrs. Gilmore, “ I am delighted to elearly that it is not worth while to invite any of my friends to see you. But how late you are! Mary Jane and I have been meet her either at dinner or at tea.”

anxiously expecting you ever since breakfast. Do take a seat on However, Mrs. Gilmore earnestly pressed Mrs. Chaloner to the couch. Nelly, shake up the pillows, the boys have been on remove to her house, and pass with her the two days she was yet them with their feet. You find me just going to dress the baby ; to remain in town. Mrs. Chaloner, who, though she was very a thing I always do myself, before Nelly carries her out walking; pleasantly situated at the hotel, imagined that she might spend you were right to bring your sewing. You must make yourself two days still more agreeably with one of the most intimate friends quite at home, and neither use ceremony nor expect any. Mary of her youth, was soon prevailed on to accept the invitation. She Jane, are you going out this morning ? was engaged to go with her party to Fairmount that afternoon, and “ To be sure I am,” replied the daughter ; "I shall begin to the theatre in the evening; and it was arranged that she should dressing immediately." remove to Spruce street at an early hour next morning. All “Well then, I must get you to leave cards for me and yourself being satisfactorily settled, Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore took their at Mrs. Warden’s, and at Mrs. Morley's, and at Mrs. Clarkson's, leare. By the evening post, Mr. Gilmore received a letter requiring and at Mrs. Simmons's; and to stop at Madame Pintard's and his immediate presence in New York on some business of import- hurry her with my bonnet." ance, which would most probably detain him there several days. “ Pintard won't be hurried,” said Mary Jane. “ Besides I have He was therefore obliged to set out next morning in the early visits of my own on hand, and no time to stop at all those boat, lamenting that he was thus prevented from participating in places.” the pleasure of Mrs. Chaloner's visit, and desiring his wife to do “ Mildness of voice and deportment, my dear Mary Jane," proall in her power to make it agreeable to that lady; so that she ceeded Mrs. Gilmore sententiously," and strict compliance with would have no occasion to regret leaving the hotel, and her own the wishes of a parent, are peculiarly becoming to all young ladies party.

who desire" "I shall treat her just as I would my sister,” replied Mrs. But before her mother had time to finish the sentence, Mary Gilmore ;—“ but make haste, my dear, or you will be too late for Jane had flounced out of the room, shutting the door violently. the boat."

“A perfect child of nature," observed Mrs. Gilmore.

"She " Mama,” said Mary Jane Gilmore, who was not yet fifteen, is, as yet, incapable of self-control, and is considered brusque. "a’nt you going to dress yourself, and sit in the front parlour all But brusquerie sometimes succeeds quite as well as manner. day with Mrs. Chaloner?"

Mary Jane takes exceedingly. The other night, at Mrs. Del. Not I indeed,” replied Mrs. Gilmore; “you know, as I am linger's, she was constantly surrounded by gentlemen. She is but Dever at home to morning visitors, it is not my way to sit up fifteen, and her father thinks I brought hier out too soon. dressed in the parlour, and therefore, as of course I would not there was no such thing as keeping her back.” pat myself out of the way for so old a friend as Cornelia Chaloner, “So I should suppose,” thought Mrs. Chaloner.

9

W

64

But

“Come now, Nelly, give me the baby," proceeded Mrs. Gilmore; The boys all ran down after her, and in a short time returned ; “ I have all her things ready. You see, my dear Cornelia, (for I their faces and hands very much smeared with molasses. From make no stranger of you,) Nelly washes and dresses the baby that time till dinner, the nursery and the balcony resounded with every morning ; but when she is to be carried out, I always pre- noise and riot; the mother sometimes raising her voice in vain pare her myself; and while I am doing so, we can talk of old attempts to check them, but generally contenting herself with times, quite at our ease. Do you remember Maria Wilford's remarking to Mrs. Chaloner that “ boys would be boys,” an indu. Christmas Ball ? Nelly, give me the pincushion. Hush, baby, bitable truism. “ Their father,” said Mrs. Gilmore, “ inclines to hush."

be rather strict with the children ; which is the reason that I am “I remember it very well,” replied Mrs. Chaloner. “ It was rather indulgent. And therefore, when he is away, they always eighteen years ago.”

break out. But I like to see them natural, and I have no “I wore a crepe lisse looped up with daffodils over a primrose- idea of cooling their affection by abridging their little pleasures. coloured satin,” pursued Mrs. Gilmore. " There now, baby, And I must say, they all absolutely dote on me. Come here, hold still till I pin its petticoat; hush, darling, hush. She always Willy." cries when I dress her. —Yes, as I was saying, I wore that night a “ What for?" said the urchin, who was just then busily empale yellow crepe lisse ; the sleeves were in bouffants divided with ployed in unwinding and tangling one of Mrs. Chaloner's cottonrouleaux of primrose-coloured riband, finished with rosettes, and spools. Frank Edwards said to me very gallantly-Baby, you must not cry

“ Come and kiss mama." so; be quiet now till I put your frock on.- What was your dress, “No, I won't,” was the reply. Cornelia ?

Mrs. Chaloner now endeavoured to give a turn to the conver“Indeed I have no recollection," replied Mrs. Chaloner ; " but sation, by inquiring after one of their former friends, Helen I remember that the ball was a very pleasant ball, and that a very Harley. amusing incident occurred.”

“Oh! she married William Orford,” replied Mrs. Gilmore. “I found nothing there that amused me so much," said Mrs. “Only think, her wedding dress was a plain brown gros des Gilmore, “as seeing Mrs. Denham in the same eternal black Indes; some said it was a gros de Suisse. "Just imagine, a bride velvet that she had worn everywhere for three winters. But, as I in brown. Helen was always eccentric. My dear boys, let me was telling you, Frank Edwards said to me

me-Baby, hush, or request that you will all go down and play in the yard." mother will whip her. See now, stop crying, and look at its Her dear boys took no heed of the request, but persisted in pretty pink cloak.”

acting naturally by scampering in and out of the balcony, (someThe baby did stop, and did look at its cloak, which was of em- times through the door, but generally through the windows,) broidered merino, lined with white silk.

prancing on the couch, and throwing its pillows in each other's “And Cornelia,” pursued Mrs. Gilmore, “ don't you remember faces, oversetting chairs and stools, and trampling on their the day, when a large party of us went down to the Navy-yard to mother's sewing. One of them being pursued by another with see a ship or something, that there came on a sudden rain all in a the hearth-brush, fell over Mrs. Chaloner, and seized her silk dress moment; and before we could get to the carriages, my chip hat in his molasses-daubed hands to assist himself in rising. Another was completely ruined ? It was perfectly new, and you know it with similar hands snatched her reticule to pelt his brother with, was trimmed with pearl-white riband, and a wreath of cape jessa- and scattered its contents all over the floor. But it were endless mine.-There now, baby's quite ready. Come, darling, shake a to relate their pranks ; none of which were the least amusing, day-day before it goes.

though all were extremely annoying. They played at nothing, After the baby had shaken a day-day and departed, Mrs. Gil- and there was no meaning in their fun. It was nothing but more went to the glass, to arrange her disordered wrapper, to senseless running, shouting, and scrambling. Besides which, they smooth her still more disordered hair ; and she had thoughts of were ugly, and had remarkably foolish faces. Mrs. Gilmore said putting on a clean cap, but concluded, that as her husband was that all her children took after herself; and Mrs. Chaloner saw not at home to insist on it, and as she should see nobody that day, no reason to doubt the truth of the assertion. it was not worth while. She talked all the time to Mrs. Chaloner, Dinner was at last announced ; Mary Jane made her appearsometimes of her children, and sometimes of what she called old ance, and the ladies descended to the dining-room, where they times, but in reality these reminiscences adverted only to the found the boys (who had run down en masse before them) already dresses she had worn on certain occasions in her girlhood, and to squabbling about their seats. the compliments paid her by the persons she denominated her Mrs. Gilmore requested Mary Jane to place herself between beaux. And such was her volubility, that Mrs. Chaloner, though James and Joseph, to keep them apart ; but that young lady a woman of excellent conversational powers, had seldom an refusing, her mother said to Mrs. Chaloner, “My dear Cornelia, opportunity of speaking at all.

will you oblige me by taking a seat between those two young “Mrs. Gilmore (who notwithstanding her passion for dress and gentlemen, who are apt to be a little unruly when they sit parties, professed to be au fait to all the petty details of house- together.” Mrs. Chaloner complied, and the boys were all the wifery, and was one of those very common characters, that time striking at each other behind her back. exercise the closest economy in some things, and the most lavish “We have a very plain dinner to-day,” said the hostess. extravagance in others) sat down to piecing together some very

" When Mr. Gilmore is at home, he and I, and Mary Jane, do old calico for a servant's bed-quilt, saying to Mrs. Chaloner,“ This not dine till three ; and the children have an early dinner by is not very pretty work to bring out before a visitor ; but you themselves, at one o'clock, on account of their going to school know I do not consider you as a stranger."

again at two. But as he is absent, and I do not consider you as In a few minutes the street-door was thrown violently open, a stranger, I did not think it worth while to have two dinners and a “rabble rout was heard ascending the stairs. Presently, prepared.' What shall I help you to ?” in rushed five boys just from school, and shouting for bread and The two youngest boys now cried out to be helped first, and as molasses. But they all stopped short, and stared at the sight of their mother knew they would persist, she complied with their Mrs. Chaloner.

demand, saying, “ My dear Cornelia, I am sure you will excuse “Never mind, my dears," said their mother ; “it is only Mrs. the poor little fellows. Children are always hungry, and we can Chaloner, an old friend of mine. My dear Cornelia, I am sorry have no comfort with our dinner unless we pacify them first. you have no children, you know not the pleasure of them.” Anything, you know, for peace and quietness.'

The boys having recovered from their surprise, now clamoured The children soon devoured their meat, and while the ladies with one accord for the bread and molasses; and Mrs. Chaloner were still eating theirs, the pudding was called for and cut, and thought that, like Mary Jane, they certainly wanted manner. Mrs. the juveniles were all served with it, by way of keeping them Gilmore mildly requested them to go and apply to Phillis for it. pacified. Little Willy, thinking that his brother George had “You know very well," said one of the boys, " that Phillis always rather a larger piece of pudding than himself, fell into a violent drives us out of the kitchen, and says she won't be plagued while tantrum, screamed and kicked, and finally, by Mary Jane's order, she's getiing dinner. We are afraid of Phillis."

was carried from the table by the servant-man. And the mother “I wish you were half as much afraid of me,” murmured their rose up and begged to be excused, while she went out to quiet mother. However, she went down to supply their demands, the poor little fellow; which she did by carrying with her a much saying as she left the room, “ I do not ask you to take anything larger piece of pudding. Mrs. Chaloner silently wishing that the by way of luncheon, my dear Cornelia, lest it should spoil children were less natural, or rather, that their nature was better, your dinner.”

or that she was considered more of a stranger.

W

“ It is always so when papa is away," said Mary Jane. " But people as she finds them; and as she is the least hard to please, mama is rightly served, for not having two dinners as usual.” I dare say she will get along well enough with Miss Nancy, who

When the uncomfortable repast was finished, and peace re- must be tolerated, as your father in his foolish kindness will not stored by the boys going to school, Mrs. Gilmore retired to her allow her to be affronted away. So we will send for her to come chamber, having informed her guest, that it was her custom and to-day, and no doubt the poor old thing will be highly pleased Mary Jane's, always to take an afternoon nap in their respective with the compliment, as I dare say it is the first time in her life rooms, and, " I suppose,” said she, "you would like to do the she ever was sent for by anybody.” same. Mrs. Chaloner was not inclined to sleep, but she had no Miss Nancy Risings was an old maiden lady who lived alone, objection to the quiet of her own apartment, and she expressed a on a very small income, derived from a ground rent; and to make desire to take a book with her.

it hold out, she was in the habit of visiting round in seven or “ Except a few annuals,” said Mary Jane, “ we have no books eight families with whom she had long been acquainted. After except those in papa's library (neither mama nor myself having the death of Mrs. Gilmore's mother, whom she had visited once any time to read); but I will take you there to choose one. I a week for twenty-five years, Miss Nancy transferred her visits to believe he has the Waverley novels, and Cooper's, and others that the daughter, and as it was really an object of some importance I hear people talk about.'

to the old lady to spend every day from home, Mr. Gilmore When they reached the library, they found the door barricadoed insisted on her being received by his family, and she was not in by a table, on which a woman was standing while she cleaned the the least fastidious as to the mode of reception. paint; and looking in, they saw another scrubbing the floor, half Accordingly, Miss Nancy Risings was sent for, and by the of which was floated with water. The books were all in disorder, time breakfast was over, and the boys prevailed on to go to school, having been taken down to be dusted : and it was found that the old lady arrived ; and she and their other guest were ushered Mrs. Gilmore had seized the opportunity of her husband's absence into the back parlour ; Mary Jane having protested to her mother to have his library cleaned. "To go in here is impossible,” said that it would be too bad to condemn Mrs. Chaloner to another Mary Jane," but I will bring you one of the annuals from the day of the nursery, particularly as she had Miss Nancy in centre table in the front parlour.”

addition. The annual was brought, and Mrs. Chaloner retired with it to The two visitors were now left alone. Miss Nancy had her her apartment; but having read it before, she did not find it very knitting, and Mrs. Chaloner her sewing. Mrs. Chaloner kindly amusing.

endeavoured to draw her into conversation, but in vain, for Miss In the evening it rained, and Mrs. Gilmore said that she was glad Nancy had no talent for talking, or for anything else. She had of it, as now she need not dress; and as her husband was away, read nothing, seen nothing, heard nothing, and she knew nothing ; there could be no danger of any of his visitors dropping in. and her replies were little more than monosyllables. Mrs. ChaAlso that it was not worth while to have the parlours opened, as loner, as the morning was fine, had intended going out; but they had been shut up all day. So they spent the evening in the down came Mrs. Gilmore and Mary Jane full dressed for shopping eating-room ; and Mary Jane wisely went to bed immediately and card-leaving. after tea, longing, as she said, to get her corsets off. The younger * As by this time, my dear Cornelia, you must feel quite at boys slept about the sofa and carpet, and screamed when any one home," said Mrs. Gilmore, “ I need make no apology for leaving touched or spoke to them ; the elder boys racketted overhead in you with Miss Nancy Risings, who is a very particular friend and the nursery. The baby was brought down, and kept worrying a great favourite of mine. Make yourselves happy together till about the table in the arms of Nelly, till nine o'clock, that it dinner-time, for I doubt if we can get home much before.” And might sleep the better during the night. When the justly-fretting out they sallied, leaving Mrs. Chaloner to feel very much as if infant could be kept awake no longer, either by wafting it up and caught in a trap. But her good-nature prevailed ; and having by down, showing it the lamp, jingling a bunch of keys in its ears, or this time learned to consider a visit as a salutary trial of patience, shaking a string of beads before its closing eyes, it was undressed she proceeded with the heavy task of entertaining the unentertainon the spot, crying all the time, having been thoroughly wakened able Miss Nancy. in the process; and it was finally carried off by Nelly, whose At noon the boys rushed home and behaved as usual. Mrs. dismal chant, as she rocked and sang it to sleep, was heard from Gilmore and her daughter being very tired with running about all above stairs for half an hour.

the morning, put on undresses to come to dinner in; and the Mrs. Gilmore now seemed so very tired and sleepy, that her dinner proceedings were the same as the day before. Early in guest (who was tired also) took her leave for the night, and the afternoon, Mrs. Chaloner took her leave, and terminated her repaired to her chamber. This apartment, though called a spare visit; having, as she truly said, some purchases to make previous bed-room, was used by every member of the family as a receptacle to leaving town next morning for Boston. Mrs. Gilmore profor all sorts of things; and Mrs. Chaloner being (unfortunately fessed great regret at the departure of her dear Cornelia, and for her) considered no stranger, nothing had been removed with a hoped that whenever she came to Philadelphia, she would always view to her accommodation. While she had sat there reading in make a point of staying at her house. Mary Jane expressed the afternoon, at night when she was preparing for bed, and in the much disappointment at Mrs. Chaloner leaving them before morning before she was up, and while she was dressing, her pri- evening; and she really felt it, as she knew that it would now vacy was continually invaded by the nurse, the other servants, and fall to her lot to get Miss Nancy through the remainder of the even Mrs. Gilmore, and Mary Jane, coming up to get various day. articles from the closets, bureaus, and presses. This chamber We need not inform our readers with what satisfaction Mrs. was unhappily on the same floor with the dormitories of the boys, Chaloner found herself that evening again at the hotel, and in who began their career at daylight; chasing each other along the the society of the refined and intelligent friends with whom she passage, and enacting a general wrestling-match so close to was travelling to Boston, to visit a brother who had married and Mrs. Chaloner's door, that they burst it open in the mêlée, and settled there. fell into the room, while she was engaged at the washing-stand. Mr. Gilmore did not return for three weeks, having extended

There was another spare bed-room, superior in every respect his journey to the far east. The first thing he told on his arrival to this ; but Mrs. Gilmore did not think it worth while to be so at home, was that he had been at a wedding the evening before he ceremonious with her old friend Cornelia Chaloner, as to place left Boston, and that the bride was Mrs. Chaloner. her in the best of the two chambers.

Great surprise was expressed by Mrs. Gilinore, and Mary Jane; As soon as the mother and daughter met in the morning, and they were still more amazed to hear that the bridegroom, Mr. " Mary Jane," said Mrs. Gilmore, “ I have been thinking of Rutledge, was a southern gentleman of large property, and of high something—Miss Nancy Risings has not yet made her weekly standing in every respect. Having become acquainted with Mrs. visit: as we may be sure of the infliction between this and Sunday, Chaloner at Washington, he had followed her to Boston, as soon suppose we kill two birds with one stone, and have her to-day as Congress broke up, (it was one of the long sessions,) and had with Mrs. Chaloner?”

there prevailed on her to return with him as his wife. They were "Never were two people more unsuitable,” replied Mary Jane; married at her brother's, and were going home by way of the "Miss Nancy is the most stupid woman on earth.”

lakes, and therefore should not pass through Philadelphia. "No matter," said Mrs. Gilmore ; "am I responsible for her “ How very extraordinary, Mary Jane!” said Mrs. Gilmore to stupidity ? It will be a good opportunity of getting at once through her daughter, as soon as they were alone ; " who could have the bore of her visit ; at least for this week. Mrs. Chaloner has guessed the possibility of that plain-looking little woman making seen too much of the world, not to know that she must take a great match! I remember hearing when she married Mr.