**

of the same complexion; and yet it was no uncomely visage either; on the contrary, it was a bold, bluff, massive, English countenance, such as Holbein would have liked to paint, in which great manliness and determination were blended with much good humour, and a little humour of another kind; so that even when the features were in seeming repose, you could foresee how the face would look when a broad smile, and a sly wink, and a knowing nod, and a demure smoothing down of his straight, shining hair on his broad forehead, gave his wonted cast of drollery to the blunt but merry tradesman, to whom might have been fitly applied the Chinese compliment - 66 Prosperity is painted on your countenance." * * Prosperous, most prosperous, has Stephen Lane been through life; but by far the best part of his good fortune, (setting pecuniary advantages quite out of the question,) was his gaining the heart and hand of such a woman as Margaret Jackson. In her youth she was splendidly beautiful-of the luxuriant and gorgeous beauty in which Giorgione revelled and now, in the autumn of her days, amplified, not like her husband, but so as to suit her matronly character, she seems to me almost as delightful to look upon as she could have been in her earliest spring. I do not know a prettier picture than to see her sitting at her own door, on a summer afternoon, surrounded by her children and her grandchildren-all of them handsome, gay, and cheerful, with her kniting on her knee, and her sweet face beaming with benevolence and affection, smiling on all around, and seeming as if it were her sole desire to make every one about her as good and as happy as herself. One cause of the long endurance of her beauty is undoubtedly its delightful expression. The sunshine and harmony of mind depicted in her countenance would have made plain features pleasing; and there was an intelligence, an enlargement of intellect, in the bright eyes and the fair, expanded forehead, which mingled well with the sweetness that dimpled round her lips. Butcher's wife and butcher's daughter though she were, yet was she a graceful and gracious woman-one of nature's gentlewomen in look and in thought. All her words were candid-all her actions liberal-all her pleasures unselfish; though, in her great pleasure of giving, I am not quite sure that she was so-she took such extreme delight in it. All the poor of the parish and of the town came to her as a matter of course: that is always the case with the eminently charitable; but children also applied to her for their little indulgences, as if by instinct. All the boys in the street used to come to her to supply their several desires-to lend them knives, and give them string for kites, or pencils for drawing, or

balls for cricket, as the matter might be. Those huge pockets of hers were a perfect toy-shop, and so the urchins knew. And the little damsels, their sisters, came to her also for materials for dolls' dresses, or odd bits of ribbon for pincushions, or coloured silks to embroider their needle-cases, or any of the thousand-and-one nick-knacks which young girls fancy they want. However out of the way the demand might seem, there was the article in Mrs. Lane's great pocket. She knew the tastes of her clients, and was never unprovided. And in the same ample receptacle, mixed with knives, and balls, and pencils for the boys, and doll's dresses, and some times even a doll itself, for the girls, might be found sugar-plums, and cakes, and apples, and gingerbread-nuts for the "toddling wee things" for whom even dolls have no charms. There was no limit to Mrs. Lane's bounty, or to the good-humoured alacrity with which she would interrupt a serious occupation to satisfy the claims of the small people. Oh! how they all loved Mrs. Lane!

Another and a very different class also loved the kind and generous inhabitant of the Butter-market-the class who, having seen better days, are usually averse to accepting obligations from those whom they have been accustomed to regard as their inferiors. With them Mrs. Lane's delicacy was remarkable. Mrs. Lucas, the curate's widow, often found some unbespoken luxury, a sweetbread, or so forth, added to her slender order; and Mr. Hughes, the consumptive young artist, could never manage to get his bill. Our good friend the butcher had his full share in the benevolence of these acts, but the manner of them belonged wholly to his wife.

Her delicacy, however, did not, fortunately for herself and for her husband, extend to her domestic habits. She was well content to live in the coarse plenty in which her father lived, and in which Stephen revelled; and by this assimilation of taste, she not only insured her own comfort, but preserved, unimpaired, her influence over his coarser, but kindly and excellent disposition. It was, probably, to this influence that her children owed an education which, without raising them in the slightest degree above their station or their home, yet followed the spirit of the age, and added considerable cultivation and plain but useful knowledge, to the strong manly sense of their father, and her own sweet and sunny temperament. They are just what the children of such parents ought to be. The daughters, happily married in their own rank of life; the sons, each in his different line, following the footsteps of their father, and amassing large fortunes-not by paltry savings, or daring speculations, but by well-grounded and judicious calculation-by sound and liberal views-by sterling sense and downright honesty.

His retirement from business and from B- occasioned a general astonishment and consternation. He did not move very far. Just over the border line which divides the parish of St. Stephen, in the loyal and independent borough of B, from the adjoining hamlet of Sunham-that is to say, exactly half a mile from the great shop in the Butter-market, did Mr. Lane take up his abode, calling his suburban habitation, which was actually joined to the town by two rows of two-story houses, one of them fronted with poplars, and called "Marvell Terrace," in compliment to the patriot of that name in Charles's days-calling this rus in urbe of his "the country," after the fashion of the inhabitants of Kensington and Hackney, and the other suburban villages which surround London proper: as if people who live in the midst of brick houses could have a right to the same rustic title with those who live amongst green fields. Compared to the Butter-market, however, Mr. Lane's new re sidence was almost rural; and the country he called it accordingly.

Retaining, however, his old town predi lections, his large, square, commodious, and very ugly red house, with very white mould ings and window-frames, red, so to say, picked out with white, and embellished by a bright green door and a resplendent brass knocker-was placed close to the road-side as close as possible; and the road happening to be that which led from the town of Bto the little place called London, he had the happiness of counting above sixty stagecoaches which passed his door in the twenty four hours, with vans, wagons, carts, and other vehicles in proportion; and of enjoy ing, not only from his commodious mansion, but also from the window of a smoking-room at the end of a long, brick wall, which parted his garden from the road, all the clatter, dust, and din of these several equipages-the noise being duly enhanced by there being, just opposite his smoking-room window, a public house of great resort, where most of the coaches stopped to take up parcels and passengers, and were singing, drinking, and four-corners were going on all the day long.

One of his greatest pleasures in this retirement seems to be to bring all around him-wife, children, and grandchildren-to the level of his own size, or that of his prize ox-the expressions are nearly synonimous. The servant-lads have a chubby breadth of feature, like the stone heads, with wings under them, (soi-disant cherubim,) which one sees perched round old monuments; and the maids have a broad Dutch look, full and florid, like the women in Teniers' pictures. The very animals seem bursting with overfatness: the great horse who draws his substantial equipage labours under the double weight of his master's flesh and his own;

THE RANZ DES VACHES.

Ir is generally and erroneously believed that
there is a particular air which is known
throughout Switzerland by this name, whereas
in truth nearly every canton has its own song
of the mountains, each varying from the
others in the notes, as well as in the words,
and we might almost add in the language.
The Ranz des Vaches of Vaud is in the
patois of the country, a dialect that is com-
posed of words of Greek and Latin origin,
mingled on a foundation of Celtic. Like
our own familiar tune, which was first be-
stowed in derision, and which a glorious history
has enabled us to continue in pride, the words
are far too numerous to be repeated. We
shall, however, give the reader a single verse
of a song which Swiss feeling has rendered
so celebrated, and which is said often to
induce the mountaineer in foreign service to
desert the mercenary standard and the tame
scenes of towns, to return to the magnificent
nature that haunts his waking imagination
and embellishes his dreams.
It will at once
be perceived that the power of this song is
chiefly to be found in the recollections to
which it gives birth, by recalling the simple
charms of rural life, and by reviving the inde-
lible impressions that are made by nature
wherever she has laid her hand on the face
of the earth with the same majesty as in
Switzerland.

Lé zarmailli dei Colombetté
Dé bon matin, sé san léha.-
REFRAIN.

Ha, ah! ha, ah!
Liauba! Liauba! por aria.
Venidé toté,
Bllantz' et naire,
Rodz et motaile,
Dzjouvan' et etro
Dezó ou tzehano,
Io vo z' ario
Dezo ou triembllo,
Io ie triudzo,

Liauba! Liauba! por aria.
The cowherds of the Alps
Arise at an early hour.

Ha, ah! ha, ah!

CHORUS.

Liauba! Liauba! in order to milk.

Come all of you, Black and white,

Red and mottled,
Young and old;

Beneath this oak.

I am about to milk you,
Beneath this poplar,

I am about to press,

Liauba! Liauba! in order to milk.

TURKEY.

TURKEY is a country having three thousand miles of coast still remaining, and a territory of five hundred thousand square miles, under the happiest climate, possessed of the richest soil, raising every variety of produce, having unrivalled facilities of transport, abounding in forests and mines, opening innumerable communications with countries further to the east, with all which our traffic is carried on in English bottoms, where labour is cheap, where industry unshackled, and commerce is free, where our goods command every market, where government and consumers alike desire their introduction. But all the advantages that may accrue to us from so favourable a state of things, is contingent on her internal tranquillity and political re organization.- Urquhart's Turkey and its Resources.

INDIAN CONJURORS.

(From Wafer's Description of the Isthmus of Darien.)

MR. WAFER having reached an Indian village, near the sea, says: "We inquired of the Indians, when they expected any ships. They told us they would inquire, and therefore sent for one of their conjurors; who immediately went to work to raise the devil to inquire of him. We were in the house with them; and they first began to work by making a partition with hammocks, that the Pawawers might be by themselves. They continued some time at their exercise; and we could hear them make most hideous yells and shrieks; imitating the voices of birds and beasts. With their own noise they joined that of several stones struck together,

of conch shells, and of a sort of drum, made of hollow bamboo, which they beat upon; making a jarring noise also, with strings fastened to the bones of beasts. Every now and then, they would make a dreadful exclawould as suddenly make a profound silence. mation; and chattering all of a sudden, But, after a considerable time, finding no because we were in the house; so turning us answer was returned, they concluded it was out, they went to work again. Still, however, receiving no answer, they made a new search, threw them out of the house in great disdain. and finding some of our clothes in a basket, They then fell once more to work: and after a short time came out with their answer, but covered with perspiration. They delivered their oracle to this effect: that on the morning of the tenth day, there would arrive two ships. That we should hear first one gun, and then another. That one of us should die soon after; and that we should lose one of our guns.

"All this fell out precisely as they foretold: for on the tenth morning we did hear, first one gun, and then another; one of our guns was lost in going on board; and the canoe in which Mr. Gopson was, being overset, it was with difficulty we saved him; and though he was brought on board alive, yet he died in three days: thus completely verifying the Pawawer's prediction."

ARABIAN DEVOTION.

THOSE of a sanguine complexion are greatly time they sit too much upon the ground; troubled with the cough, because in the spring and recreation to go and see them; for upon and upon Fridays I have had no small sport numbers, to hear the Mahometan sermons. this day the people flock to church in great Now, if any one in sermon-time falleth a coughing, all the whole multitude will cough with him for company, and so they make such a noise, that they never leave off till the sermon be quite done; so that a man shall reap but little knowledge by any of their sermons.—Purchas, his Pilgrimages.

Delicate Satire.-Lady Jane C- once gave a masquerade but no supper. A wag dressed himself as a miserable half starved object, and stood in a corner of the room: on being questioned by the characters, his only reply was "I am Lady Jane's supper." Epitaph.

Dust from dust at first was taken,
Dust from dust is here forsaken;
Dust with dust will here remain,

Till dust from dust shall rise again. Marshal Junot, when on his return from Egypt, happening to pass through Montbard, where he spent his days of boyhood, took especial pains to discover his old schoolfellows and playmates, with whom he chatted gaily on the theme of his youthful pranks. His next step was to visit the respective localities in company with his quondam associates in mischief. In the public square, Junot observed a grave-looking, old gentleman, walking majestically along, an ivory-headed cane supporting his steps. Without further ceremony, the general ran up to him, threw himself upon his neck, and embraced him with a vehemence of cordiality nearly sufficient to stifle him. The professor, disengaging himself with difficulty from the close hug, and ignorant of the motive of such warmth, contemplated the general with every symptom of stupefaction." What!" cried the latter, "do you not know me?" "Citizen General, pray excuse me, but I have no recollection." "Zounds! Doctor, have you forgotten the most idle, good-for-nothing, untractable dog that ever tired the patience of a pedagogue?" "I beg a thousand pardons, but have I the honour of addressing M. Junot ?" "You have," said the general, renewing his overwhelming endearments, and bursting into a loud laugh, (in which his friends joined,) at the singular signs and tokens by which the man of learning had so easily recognised his graceless pupil.

While Junot was one day reconnoitring near the lines at Torres Vedras, he was accidentally wounded by a sentry, when Lord Wellington, knowing that the French army were at that time destitute of everything in the shape of comfort, sent to request his acceptance of anything which Lisbon afforded, that could be of service to him; but the

French general was too much of a politician to acknowledge the want of anything.

W. G. C. Genuine.-(Found pinned on a clothes basket.) "Horred Madam, 1 hanchif omited Sending oing to Being Smuged.”

Epitaph in Crowland Abbey Church.
Man's life is like unto a winter's day,
Some break their fast, and then depart away;
Others stay dinner, then depart full fed,
The longest age but sups and goes to bed.

Satisfaction.-Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Canning, it may be remembered, fought a duel in 1809. The parties fired once without effect; but, at the second exchange of shots, Lord Castlereagh's ball passed through his adversary's thigh. Canning still remained erect, and a third discharge would have taken place, had not the seconds perceived that he was severely wounded; they immediately interfered, and left the ground with their respective principals, without having effected an amicable arrangement. Sheridan observed of Lord Castlereagh, in allusion to this affair: "He is a perfect Irishman, even in his quarrels, for he does not appear to be a whit more satisfied now that he has received satisfaction, than he was before."

Fox's Childhood.-One night, while his father, then secretary of state, was occupied in the preparation of some important papers, Charles James walked into the study, and, with great coolness, perused, criticized, and burnt a despatch which had just been set apart for sealing. Lord Holland did not even reprimand the boy for his impertinence, but, without being in the least ruffled, prepared a second copy of the document from his official draught.-Georgian Era.

Sleeping in Office.-While Lord North was at the head of public affairs, Burke, during a conversation relative to the Scotch anti-popish mob, thought proper to censure the supineness of government with great severity: in the midst of his speech, he suddenly perceived that the premier had fallen into a profound nap; and directing the attention of the house to the circumstance, he observed, "Government it is to be hoped, is not defunct, but drowsy. Brother Lazarus,' continued he, pointing to Lord North, "is not dead, he only sleepeth !"

The Marquess of Bute, when in office, fellow-countrymen. A disappointed wit, who evinced a most extravagant partiality for his had long danced attendance at his levees to little purpose, once said to him, "If your lordship would but make me a Scotchman, you would ensure my gratitude for ever

יין

FONTAINEBLEAU is a moderately-sized town of France, in the department of the Seine and Marne, and about 36 English miles S.S.E. from Paris. It is situated 14 post on the route from Paris to Geneva, and that usually taken by persons who, on leaving the French capital, wish to see the Military Road, made by order of Napoleon, over the Jura Alps and the Simplon, to Milan. This road, which is paved and well kept, for several miles, is like the other country round Paris, flat and uninteresting; but the scenery improves as you advance to Fontainebleau. "The Seine, which continues to accompany you, here meanders in graceful and noble windings, while some fine chateaux, built on eminences above the river, look on lawns besprinkled with shrubs and evergreens, which slope down to its banks," 99* As you approach Fontainebleau, the character of the country alters.

A singular line of rock, composed of detached, globular masses, interspersed with juniper bushes, extends for a considerable distance in an amphitheatrical form, and marks out the forest of Fontainebleau, containing about 34,000 acres; than which nothing can be more picturesque, nor, in some parts, more gloomily magnificent. On each side of the road are lofty, grey rocks, clothed, even to their summits, with beeches and other deciduous trees; and the richness of their foliage, contrasted with the rude and barren appearance of the huge and shapeless masses of stone in which they vegetate, exhibits one of the most extraordinary scenes in wild and luxuriant nature. We can imagine the effect of so refreshing a contrast upon tourists whose senses have been feasted with the glitter and glare of the bewitcheries of Paris, and how delightfully the rude simplicity of such scenes must succeed to the triumphs of overstrained art.

About the centre of this singular forest stands the town of Fontainebleau, consisting of a principal street, with several smaller ones. It is chiefly celebrated for its royal palace, which is built at the south end of the town. It was, several centuries since, a hunting seat of the French kings: Louis VII. is