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and prepared for the worst. And yet," continued he, drily and taking up one of the blisters, "I'm just thinking that for fear of a relapse, there'd be nae muckle harm, but on the contrary, some possible guid

in-"

Quiddy interrupted the doctor, by assuring him in the most positive terms, that there was nothing of that kind to be apprehended, for that the kind and skilful treatment he had already received at his hands had made a man of him again; and in this opinion he was supported by Mrs. Sanderson, who expressed her opinion that Phineas, having made a tolerable breakfast, had no further need of his assistance.

"Aw the better, aw the better-for the patient, I mean," replied Mc Squills; and whilst speaking, he quietly replaced his various remedies in his pocket.

"And noo, Meester Queddy, I've to say that I'm mightily puzzled aboot the nature of your late distemper. I never met with the like o't in the whole course of my experience. But it has this point about it in common with the sma'-pox; that, as I flatter mysel' I have worked it radically out o' your system, ye'll be no likely to be takin' it again in a hurry. So guid-bye-Meester Queddy."

With a wink to the widow, and a nod to Janet, Doctor Mc Squills departed; and the chapfallen lover proceeded to his avocations behind the counter.

"I think we have cured him of his foolery of dying of love for his grandmother," muttered the widow, as Quiddy left the room; and he, who heard the words, made up his mind from that moment, to abandon the pursuit, and never to repeat the experiment.

P*.

THE "LEARN EVERYTHING YOUNG LADY."

MANY a tear has been shed over the "sorrows of Werter," many a sigh breathed for the "sorrows of Rosalie;" never having met with either of these dismally-sounding productions, I cannot of course presume to decide on their capabilities for exciting the "melting mood:" but of one thing I am sure-THEIR griefs, whatever they may have been, must fall far short of mine.

I am an only daughter. My parents, long before I was born, determined that I should be what I think is best defined by the expres sion of "a learn-everything young_lady."

In pursuance of their scheme, I was named Aspasia. My father would have preferred Corinne, but my mother liked Aspasia better; and after a sharp dispute, during which my mother looked like Xantippe, I became Aspasia. Alas! when and where shall I find a Pericles! 'Tis true that the mayor of a small French country town, where I once resided, piqued himself on resembling him; but though he did cut down all the trees, build a new meat-market, paint the gates of the public gardens scarlet, mend the roads till they were impass

able, set up monuments to the "memory of nobody," and triumphal arches of roses and ribbons, and speechify the money out of our pockets, yet I could never see the likeness.

To return my father, who is "a very clever man," took me in hand as soon as I could repeat "the Beggar's Petition" and "the multiplication table;" tell what England is bounded by; describe how Henry VIII. killed his wives; and work that horrid sum, "a privateer of two hundred and fifty men took a prize," &c. (how fervently I used to wish they never had taken one, or that it had been empty), all which accomplishments I owed to my mother. Under his care I was instructed in navigation, which he said would be "very useful;" and Algebra"absolutely necessary for keeping household accounts and making out washing-bills;" "dialling," that I might spend a month making something to tell the hour by, instead of looking at the timepiece on the table; geometry, trigonometry, and conic sections-(in the course of which everything in the house, including mamma's stock of winter oranges, was cut into pyramids and parabolas), a little gunnery and fortifications ("most particularly useful;") fractions and decimals, and the cube-root and perspective, and the use of the globes, and mapping, and astronomy, and I think that's all; and then back I went to mamma, and a whole synod of masters and governesses. They taught mecompassionate reader, seven languages! Does it not make you shudder? Yes, seven languages were actually dinned into my poor unfortunate head, by as many professors. Oh, the agonies of Greek verbs and Latin cases; “AUW, AVELS, AVEL."-" dominus, domini, domino”German genders-where young women are neuter; and French genders where a whole army of fierce-looking dark desperados are feminine (and a soldier on duty is feminine too-till his guard is over, and then I suppose he is masculine again). The Italian abreviations, where too letters stand for fifty others, and the Spanish j's and x's which spoiled my face and pushed my front-teeth out of their places. Pause here a while, kind reader, and drop a tear; but do not linger-greater sorrows are yet to be recorded.

My mother decided that I had a great genius for music, and a striking talent for drawing-and at this moment I draw in pencil, Indian ink, sepia, paint in oils and water-colours, and etch; play the harp, pianoforte, and guitar, and have taken lessons in thorough bass and the keybugle! When I had arrived at this pitch of perfection, my mother considered it was time I should be made useful. Accordingly I was initiated into the mysteries of sewing and felling-whipping and gathering, &c.

The cook taught me to make pies, the coiffeur to dress hair, an embroidress to flourish, a washerwoman to small-plait, a milliner to make flowers, and nothing but a sudden and inevitable change of residence saved me from learning to manufacture baskets, fish trout, shoot sparrows, stuff birds, stick butterflies, and knit stockings. To add to all this, nature has endowed me with a propensity to scribble prosy rhyme, and rhymy prose, in fact, just what might be expected from a head where Homer floats in batter-pudding, and music mixes with mathematics. Having then" this nice little talent," my mother of course expects me to exercise it frequently. The consequence is, that it is only an additional misery. I have other employments too, engrossing and

absorbing they engross paper, and absorb ink, but of them I will not speak now-suffice it to say, they are public duties, and of the highest importance.

Here I would again pause to ask if my case be not one of heartrending bitterness; but the worst is yet to come! Dear reader! you doubtless imagine that all this was taught as such things usually are, carelessly and slightly; forgotten as soon as acquired; passing over my mind as the light breezes of summer sweep over the calm bosom of a lake, leaving no trace of their rapid passage, when the momentary ripple has subsided. Oh that it were so! but, alas, it is far otherwise!

Before I conclude, I will give you an idea of our usual conversation, and a "sketchy view" of my dismal employments. At breakfast my father asks if I have "looked at my navigation lately"-fears I shall forget my fortification; asks now if the beef were a fort, and the chocolate the enemy, how I would commence the attack, and arranges the lumps of sugar like the cannon-balls in a barrack-yard, and makes me tell him "the contents" by the proper rule. Mamma hopes I shall not forget my German, fears I am too much fascinated by the Italian, begs I will remember my Greek ode, inquires after my Latin translation, desires I will practise the first thing, or thinks that I had better paint, requests that I will not allow the pudding to slip my memory, brings me my stockings to mend, gives me a particular list of all the tapes that are off, and buttons "absent without leave," and puts a "broad R" (as they say in the navy) for ragged against the names of everything in my wardrobe! Well, the day wears on; I do first one thing, and then another, my mother always following me, and repeating what yet remains to be achieved. Visiters come, and dinner comes, and the pudding does not come, and then scolding comes, and an anathema is pronounced against the Greek and the mathematics by mamma, and a hint is thrown out against the stitching and hemming by papa, and all is confusion. Night comes at last, and I retire, after washing out, like Lady Macbeth, "the spots" (I omit her expletive) of ink, and paint, and earth, for I garden and study botany occasionally, to act over again in my sleep the deeds of the day; to fight with Schiller's ghosts, or Homer's heroes, or fancy myself a second edition of the "Prometheus Vinctus."

I have said enough; such a tale needs no comment. I would not impair its simple truth by a single figure of speech; it must awaken the sympathies of many unfortunates of my tribe, and perhaps touch the hearts of some mothers who have hitherto resembled mine. It is an appeal from the "Learn-everything young ladies," the mental "factory children" of the nineteenth century, to the people of England; I trust it will be heard and answered!

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CANALETTI IN LONDON.

AMONG the many anomalies arising out of the manner in which the mind and body act and react on each other, one of the most remarkable is, that the more we look at external objects, the less we see of their real character; and the grander the objects, the grosser the deception our eyes practise on us concerning them. The people who live in St. Paul's Church-yard regard our metropolitan cathedral as nothing more than a monster nuisance which intercepts their sunshine.

“"Tis nearness lends enchantment to the view,"

and transforms one of the noblest religious temples in the world into a stone-quarry turned topsy-turvy. Yet the same people, if they ever get so far from home as St. Martin's-in-the-fields, fall back to gaze upon it, and "wonder with a foolish face of praise." This is but one out of a thousand instances that might be cited,-of the English people especially and the general result in our own case is, that while foreigners, from no matter what part of the world they may come, are lost in mingled surprise and admiration on their first visit to our unrivalled city, we ourselves have an idea that it is quite a poor sort of place, that would go into the waistcoat pocket of St. Petersburg. The Frenchman who spat upon the ground and said, " Voilà la Tamise," had not a more contemptuous notion of our noble river than we have who have been made by it (through our commerce) the greatest nation the world ever knew.

What are the reasons and the remedy for this state of things? for there must be such, seeing that the anomaly prevails in regard to no other people at least in anything like the same degree. The question is too pregnant to admit of such a brief reply as our space and present design would alone warrant. But we may perhaps furnish a clue to such reply by a glance at the traditional fame acquired by other cities, through the happy medium of their own artists, and the travellers and men of letters of other nations. Let as take, for example, Venice, "the Queen of the Adriatic." It is true she has been singularly fortunate in the kind and degree of fame that has been shed over her, both by artists and poets; and her singular fate and fortunes have in some sort called for the distinction. But the example will apply nevertheless.

The

For a long course of years, artists, playwrights, poets, novelists, and annualists have contributed to get up the performance of "Venice Preserved" with a much more ample text than that of Otway. story of "The Gentle Lady married to the Moor," first directed popular attention to the republic, and to that greatest of limners, Shakspeare, we are indebted for our first impressions of the Rialto and its other interesting localities. Monk Lewis, Cooper, and above all, Byron, assisted us to many more conceptions of what are now "the old familiar faces" of Venice, intellectual as well as picturesque;—her doges, her Council of Three, her senators, her bravoes; and, more than all, that solemn air of monumental melancholy which makes her stand like the tomb of her own departed greatness. On the other hand, the "barbaric pomp" of her Bucentaur, the black mystery of her gondolas, the poetic pathos of her Bridge of Sighs, and the sublime force of her marriage with the Adriatic, each and all of which

"Live in Byron's numbers one day more."

Sept.-VOL. LXIII. NO. CCXLIX.

D

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