Not so the unhappy Hortensia ;-she chose it for a residence, from motives that would have induced others to have avoided itbecause it contains within its relentless walls an only and beloved daughter, the fairest of flowers, who, " even in blooming, died," recalled to her kindred angels, ere yet her many talents and beauties were arrived at their perfection, leaving no hope to her sorrowing mother, but to be laid by her side in the silent tomb. With this aspiring hope, she, each returning morning, views the hallowed spot which contains all that once was beauty, once was worth.

As lately she was thus employed, lost in a profound reverie on the instability of all human prospects, on the shortness of her joys, on the years she had passed in unavailing sorrow and deep regret, and how many more she might be doomed to suffer, before she should be called to rejoin her sainted child, she was roused from the intensity of her own feelings, to share the pangs of a fellow mourner. But the pen of a Sterne or of a Pratt alone would afford an adequate description of the scene, or do justice to the simple but eloquent effusions, the real grief, of an uncultivated child of nature-a POOR NEGRO. Hortensia heard his deep-drawn sighssaw the silent tear, as he bent with folded arms over a new-made grave, which had been left in the most rough and indecent disorder by the callous shovellers of dirt to dirt, who generally treat with neglect and disrespect the last home of the poor and deserted. He stooped to free it of the rubbish and weeds thrown on it. He looked on it with a shudder of horror, as if the partner of his slavery, the solace of his few hours of relaxation from toil, she that was all to him-kindred, friends, and country, upbraided him for neglecting the last sad office that had a claim on his affection. Appearing roused from inaction by this idea, he brushed off the fastfalling dew, and made an effort to cover the grave with sod; but finding that without assistance he could not do it properly, he retired, but presently returned with a man, to whom he offered money to assist him in his pious purpose, and who, with his spade, began to cut green turfs, whistling, without thinking of the nature of his employment, or the misery of the poor wretch before him, who now, kneeling, with them covered the grave of his lamented partner, which this genuine child of the sun consecrated by floods of tears, that rolled in torrents down his ebony cheeks. "Ah!" whispered Hortensia, "the milk of human kindness that flows in thy breast, poor unfortunate, makes thee appear to my eyes the fairest of the sons of men. Worth is of no religion, no climate, no colour; beside, like me, thou hast drank the bitter cup of af

fliction, even unto the dregs; thou visitest and mournest over the grave of a beloved wife-I over that of an only ever-to-be-regretted child; though in worldly situation we are as distinct as is the colour of our skin, the chain of misfortune has bound us in close contact. I will therefore mingle my tears with thine, nor in my orisons shalt thou, poor Negro, be forgotten. May our sorrows be accepted, as a compensation for our offences, by him who gave and has taken away, and may he afford us strength to endure what it has pleased him to inflict !"

The task now being finished, he gave his assistant the promised shilling-perhaps his last, which he pocketed, having first convinced himself it was good, with as much apathy as a doctor does his fee, when he has announced to the sorrowing relatives there are no hopes for his patient. Our dejected mourner lingered behind, for a last look at the repository of all his past joys.

No sooner did he find himself alone, than he prostrated himself on the sod, yet wet with his tears, and appeared to be offering up the prayers of sensibility, to the throne of the God of mercy, who despises not the sighing of the wretch, and who will reward his humble spirit. After a pause, he arose, appearing renovated by the innate pleasure of having performed a duty. He made an effort to tear himself from the spot. With slow and lingering steps, he bent his way through the church-yard, and turned, at each receding step, his tearful eyes on the clay-cold tenement. Hortensia heard his stifled sobs-his piteous sighs-saw the convulsive agony that shook his frame, from the retrospect of past pleasures, for ever flown. Her own sorrow, brought by this melancholy scene full to her remembrance, and commiseration for his, now obliged her to retire.

THOMAS CORIATE.

It was not until the year 1608 that the use of a fork at table was introduced into England. That singular character, Thomas Coriate, of Oldcombe, thus speaks upon the subject. "I observed a custom in all the Italian cities and towns through which I passed, that is not used in any other country that I saw in my travels; neither do I think that any other nation in Christendom doth use it, but only Italy. The Italians, and also most strangers that are commorant in Italy, do always, at their meals, use a little fork, when they cut their meat. For while with their knife, which they hold in one hand, they cut their meat out of the dish, they fasten their fork,

which they hold in their other hand, upon the same dish. So that whatsoever he be that, sitting in the company of others at meal, should unadvisedly touch the dish of meat with his fingers, from which all at table does cut, he will give occasion of offence to the company, as having transgressed the laws of good manners, insomuch that for his error he shall be at least brow-beaten, if not reprehended in words. This form of feeding is generally used in all places of Italy. Their forks, for the most part, being made of iron' or steel, and some of silver, but the latter are used only by gentlemen. The reason of this, their curiosity, is because the Italian cannot by any means endure to have his dish touched with fingersseeing all men's fingers are not alike clean. Hereupon I myself thought good to imitate the Italian fashion, by this forked cutting of meat, not only whilst I was in Italy, but in Germany, and oftentimes in England, since I came home." It were to be wished that this 'curiosity, or rather delicacy, had spread more rapidly, and been universally adopted: for it is not yet uncommon for those who mix in various companies, at what are called elegant repasts, to be shocked and disgusted by the use of fingers, instead of forksparticularly by fish eaters. The pun of Joseph Miller might be well applied to such persons-" You have been a great traveller, I see, all over grease." Dr. Johnson says of Coriate, "He was an humourist about the court of James the First. He had a mixture of learning, wit, and buffoonery: he travelled through Europe, and published his travels; he afterwards travelled on foot through Asia, and had made many remarks, but he died at Wandoa, and his remarks were lost." The length of his journey on foot was one thousand nine hundred and seventy-five miles, more than half of which he performed with one pair of shoes!!! These memorable shoes were only once mended; and on his return to Oldcombe, were hung up in the church there. He was of a respectable family-lived in the house of, and received a pension from, Henry Prince of Wales. The quaint, but sensible Fuller, says of him, "Sweetmeats and Coriate made up the last course at all entertainments. Indeed he was the courtiers' anvil to try their wits upon. And sometimes this anvil returned the hammers as hard knocks as he received, his bluntness repaying their abuse. Such as conceived him a fool ad dico, and something else, ad decem, were utterly mistaken: for he drave on no design, caring for coin and counters alike. So contented with what was present, that he accounted those men guilty of superfluity who had more shirts than bodies."

Q. Z.

SELECT SENTENCES.

PERSONAL rancour wonderfully enlivens our style. Memoirs are often dictated by its fiercest spirit:, and then histories are composed from memoirs!-and where is truth? Not in histories and memoirs.

BENJAMIN JONSON says, “Princes learn no art truly but that of horsemanship. The reason is, the brave beast is no flatterer: he will throw the prince as soon as his groom.”

law.

MADAME DUFFANS said of "L'Esprit du Loix," it is wit upon

I WOULD much rather be present with men of talents, who excel me, and listen to their conversation, than with fools, to applaud my sayings.

THERE is a degree of pride in human nature which upholds us in suffering, while we believe we are objects of interest to some, and of affection to others. The effect, if it be not hope, resembles it.

ST. FOND, speaking of the climate of Scotland, tells us it reminds him of a repartee of the Prince Caraccioli, viceroy of Sicily, when requested by an English nobleman, in London, to look at the sun. "Your English sun, my Lord, very much resembles our Sicilian moon."

It is curious that the rich coal mines of Culross extend to a great. distance under the bed of the sea, and that the workmen, guarded against a few leaks by steam engines, which raise the water out of the pits, continue their labours in perfect security, and without the least anxiety from the enormous mass of water rolling over their heads! Thus, while the bold and indefatigable miners, feebly lighted by the dismal glimmering of their lamps, make these profound cavities resound with the strokes of their mattocks, vessels, borne along with a propitious breeze, pass in full sail over their heads! and the sailors, enjoying the fineness of the weather, express their happiness in songs! At other times, the tempest lowers! the horizon flashes with fire !-the thunder roars!-the sea rages!all is wrapped in terror! and the crew trembles. But the tranquil miners, ignorant of what is passing aloft, joyful and happy, sing, in chorus, their pleasures and their loves; while the vessel 'is dashed in pieces, and swallowed up in the devouring gulf above them! Unfortunately too true a picture of the daily vicissitudes of human life!

Q. Z.

THE STARLING.

A NOVEL IN MINIATURE.

CHAPTER I.

A SOLILOQUY.

See where she leans her cheek upon her hand. "Oh! that I were a glove upon that hand,

"That I might kiss her cheek!"

Such was the attitude of Maria, and such might have been the wish of any one who is susceptible of tenderness, and whose heart has ever felt the sympathising throb, awakened by beauty when melancholy has given resistless allurement to the features.

"Alas!" sighed she, "how hopeless is this cruel passion, which I have suffered to obtrude itself into my bosom!—But how could I resist the allurements of such a form, united with such merits of the heart, and of the understanding?-Yet I ought to have resisted. How could I expect that a man of Courtney's opulence, would condescend to cast a thought on a poor friendless orphan, whose scanty fortune exceeds not the limits of the humblest competency!-Yet my family was once not much inferior in honour or opulence to his own and sure the mind of my Courtney is too noble to be swayed by the selfish prejudices of the vulgar crowd. But what to me avails the generosity of his heart, if that heart sympathises not with the emotions of mine. Unhappy sex! forbad at once by custom and instinctive delicacy, to reveal the tender impressions of which we are but too susceptible; if we love it is without hope-while to our sufferings, even the mournful consolation of pity is denied!—But perhaps I merit this misery; perhaps that female heart approaches too near to wantonness, which is yielded unsolicited to the influence of so tender a passion. Prudence, and the opinion of the age, forbid attachment from beginning on the part of the female; but will the instincts of nature subside at the formal mandates of prudence; will the tenderest passion of the soul be influenced by the cold dictates of opinion; can the heart on which nature has affixed her impress, be new moulded by the maxims of fashion. Why are our sex endowed with sensibility? why are we thus susceptible of tenderness, if the softest, the earliest, the most powerful of all the effects of such a disposition is inconsistent with the delicacy of our nature. Of what can I reproach myself, but being too sensible of merit, and imbibing, ere I was aware, a passion, which, with painful caution, I have endeavoured to conceal."

U-VOL. XVh