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venerable and beloved mother of our authoress died. From that period, Miss Anna Maria Porter's health, always fragile, became more so; and her sister, with a natural anxiety, which held her as one of the last of her treasures on earth, in the course of a few months afterwards, took her from their home at Esher in Surrey, to begin a little tour for change of scene and air. During March and April, they were in London and there, many friends of past times renewed the pleasure of meeting one again, in their dear Anna Maria, whose attaching social qualities were ever uppermost in the minds which knew her best; so much in true value, is real worth of heart beyond even first-rate talents, though possessed by the same beloved person. Vanity had no place in her character. She thought humbly of her own talents; and still more humbly of the unobtrusive tenor of a life, which, in the retirement of her village home, she had long dedicated to the Christian's silent walk of " charity with all human beings, in thought, word, and deed!”

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In the course of their purposed tour, the sisters came to Bristol on the 28th of May; where their brother, Dr. Porter, resides as a physician. Miss A. M. Porter was taken ill of a fever on the 3d of June, which, in spite of his utmost skill, and that of another professional gentleman, terminated her earthly life on the 21st of the same month. But she closed it in the spirit of that life's career ; - an example to the "lowly

in heart!" and to those who have a faithful trust in the Divine Promise, that such "shall see God!"

EXERCISE CC.

THE WOMEN OF FRANCE AND THOSE OF ENGLAND. [Translated from Mirabeau.]

WOMEN are a subject upon which so much has been said and written, by so many men of abilities, that it is not easy to imagine a new light to show them in; or to place them in an attitude in which they have not already been placed. But, talking of a nation, if one did not say something about so considerable a part of it, the subject would appear mutilated and imperfect. As "brevity is the soul of wit," I shall be brief; and I shall only touch on the principal points

in which the women of France differ from those of other countries.

When a French lady comes into a room, the first thing that strikes you, is, that she walks better, carries herself better, has her head and feet better dressed, her clothes better fancied and better put on, than any woman you have ever seen. When she talks, she is the art of pleasing personified. Her eyes, her lips, her words, her gestures, are all prepossessing. Her language is the language of amiableness; her, accents are the accents of grace; she embellishes a trifle, interests upon nothing; she softens a contradiction; she takes off the insipidness of a compliment by turning it elegantly; and when she has a mind, she sharpens and polishes the point of an epigram, better than all the women in the world. Her eyes sparkle with spirit; the most delightful sallies flash from her fancy; in telling a story, she is inimitable; the motions of her body, and the accents of her tongue, are equally genteel and easy; an equable flow of sprightliness keeps her constantly good-humoured and cheerful; and the only objects of her life are to please and be pleased.

Her vivacity may sometimes approach to folly; but perhaps, it is not in her moments of folly that she is least interesting and agreeable.

Englishwomen have many points of superiority over the French: the French are superior to them in many others. I have mentioned some of these points in other places. Here I shall only say, there is a particular idea, in which no woman in the world can compare with a Frenchwoman; it is in the power of intellectual excitement. She will draw wit out of a fool. She strikes, with such address, the chords of self-love, that she gives unexpected vigour and agility to fancy, and electrifies a body that appeared non-electric.

I have mentioned here the women of England; and I have done wrong. -I did not intend it when I began the letter. They came into my mind, as the only women in the world worthy of being compared with those of France. To settle the respective claims of the fair sex in these two countries, requires an abler pen than mine. I shall not dare to examine it, even in a single point, nor presume to determine, whether, in the important article of beauty, form and colour are to be preferred to expression and grace; or whether grace and expression are to be considered as preferable to complexion and shape. I shall not examine whether the piquant of

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WHAT is it that has procured so general and well-merited approbation of the works of Frederika Bremer? Certainly, not alone the attractions presented by that which is new and foreign. For the new and foreign is offered to us yearly, ay, daily, in such plenitude, that it must be richly endowed and originally conceived, when it not only finds an entrance and wins an ephemeral reputation, but also acquires unanimous and enduring approbation. The principal reason of the approbation which has been bestowed upon this worthy Swedish authoress is, probably, the perfectly unassuming manner in which she presented herself. There is not the least trace of pretension that she is about to offer us something unheardof, unusual, or extraordinary; or that her object is to make for herself a name, and crown herself with the laurels of fiction. She does not claim to be an artist, but offers herself simply as she is, like a gentle pilgrim, who, from the treasures of her clear understanding and pure heart, would impart to her younger sisters her observations and experience, which serve not only for a delightful recreation, but also for instruction, warning, and advice. The modest title, "Sketches from Every-day Life," is evidently, on her part, seriously intended; although she is doubtless aware that it is any thing but mere every-day life which flows from her pen. In each case, the appellation of sketches is too modest, and consequently untrue; for that which is here offered does not consist merely of designs, outlines, and sketches, but of finished paintings, always elaborate, and frequently carried out with. the minuteness of the Flemish school; and even in the copies before us, (the genuine translations,) the fresh colouring of nature is still preserved.

Frederika Bremer possesses an uncommonly happy, versatile, exact, and attractive mode of expression: undoubtedly this is her own from nature, and inborn, but by study and practice developed and highly polished. Nowhere, in her works, can you discern study, while you cannot but enjoy its fruits; nowhere can you find a circumlocution, either in language or in expression; the one adapts itself immediately to the ideas, the other is equally easy and concise: there is nothing overstrained or tinselled; the same charming sim

plicity is everywhere apparent. Her subject is so clearly presented and moulded, that the form involuntarily presents itself, and in the most unambiguous manner.

The charms of her pleasing style, however, are heightened by the richness and chasteness of the contents. They consist of pictures of real life, striking, calculated to excite reflection, well selected, attractive, illuminated with taste, and with a background of strong common sense; — in outline, disposition and colouring, all conceived and finished with the same ability. With all the palpable connection of the subjects, between which a family resemblance is soon detected, the variety of incidents and characters is very great. The conceptions, it is true, exhibit no marks of a fiery or luxuriant imagination; but they are neither barren nor uniform; and in no case are they wanting in the charms of novelty or originality. In every new volume, new characters are brought forward, which, although we may imagine that we have in part heard or seen them before; yet being exhibited in another dress and under other circumstances, or in another point of view, are no specimens of every-day individuality.

In the delineation of character, our authoress evinces uncommon skill. Not only the principal actors, but several of the inferior ones, are sharply and truly-defined portraits, which possess not only the appearance of life, but have, in fact, a substantial life; they stand, move, speak, and act before us; and we are continually taxing our memories for the originals, the counterparts of which the versatile authoress has placed before our eyes; we have a dim remembrance of having, somewhere or other, during our lives, encountered each one of them. But it is far from being the case that every-day forms, - those which every one is already acquainted with, are all that are presented before us: even those readers who have lived much in the world, and have associated with many men, will here make new and interesting acquaintances, whose images they will ever fondly retain in memory. As the marks of truth and nature are everywhere impressed upon these portraits, so there are some which are conceived and drawn with peculiar force. Seldom has the graver, in the hands of a female, drawn and finished such sharply-defined and forcible characters.

Born upon a Finland estate, not far from Abo, Frederika Bremer was, in her earliest years, removed to Sweden, where her father was an extensive land-proprietor. The simple life

of the family glided calmly away from spring to autumn in the country, and from autumn to spring in the capital city, with agreeable society in either place; their time being taken up principally in the household duties, in familiar readings, where attention was mostly directed to the German classics, and the practice of the arts. Each daughter of the house availed herself of the means of education here offered, each one, according to her own peculiar taste and disposition, and painted a future glowing with all the enchantment of a lively and excited imagination. It may be mentioned as characteristic, that our poetess, in all her visions, foresaw herself a warrior heroine.

A sad reality, a deep and bitter melancholy, the origin of which, in consideration of her reluctance to explain it, we can only surmise, here drew like a dark gloomy cloud over the life of the young maiden; for many a year did she struggle with it; but at length she came out victorious, free, and strong. "The illusions of youth are dissolved; the springtime of youth is past." But a new youth, light, and freedom, have arisen in the purified soul, and, with renovated strength, she goes to the daily work which she has recognized as her、 calling. She began early, even when but a girl, to write, yet t is but lately that she has allowed any of her productions to e printed. "I wrote under the impulse of youthful and stless feelings; I wrote that I might write. Latterly, I have resumed the pen under far different influences; but upon what these are, she is silent. On the verge of the autumn of life, she still delights in the same cheerful society to which she has been accustomed from her earliest spring days, and in the possession of a beloved mother and sister. For the future, she has no other wish than that she may perfect the labours which she has undertaken, to which her former writings "form the beginning." Thus we may still expect many a ripe and rich offering from her; if her health remains as sound, and her heart as fresh, as the past warrants us in assuming.

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These revelations from the life of the authoress, give a key to the peculiar delineation and colouring of several of the female characters in her romances, a high-souled resignation, a calm and impartial contemplation of the world, a rising above the opposition of circumstances, the joys of the peaceful life of a confiding family circle, together with a lively interest in all the noble and beautiful that lies beyond

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