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evident to see the honest servant was sincere in her praise. Happy husband, whoever he may be !"

They were now at the Colonel's house. "Just let me read this passage," said Nelmore, opening the pages of a French Philosopher, and as I do not pronounce French like a native, I will translate as I proceed:

"In order to love mankind-expect but little from them; in order to view their faults, without bitterness, we must accustom ourselves to pardon them, and to perceive that indulgence is a justice which frail humanity has a right to demand from wisdom. Now nothing tends more to dispose us to indulgence, to close our hearts against hatred, to open them to the principles of a humane and soft morality, than a profound knowledge of the hu man heart-that knowledge which La Rochefoucault possessed. Accordingly, the wisest men have always been the most indulgent," &c.

"And now prepare to be surprised. That good son whom you admired so much-whom you wished you could obtain as a friend, is Captain Balfour-that generous, self-denying man, whom you desired yourself so nobly to relieve, is Mr Gilpin—that young lady, who, in the flush of health, beauty, dissipation, and conquest, could attend the sick chamber of her servant, and whom her husband discovers to be a treasure, is Charlotte Lennox!"

"Good Heavens !" cried Nugent, "what then am I to believe? has some juggling been practised on my understanding, and are Balfour, Gilpin, and Miss Lennox, after all, patterns of perfec tion ?"

"No, indeed, very far from it; Balfour is a dissipated, reckless man-of loose morality and a low standard of honour; he saw you were destined to purchase experience he saw you were destined to be plundered by some one-he thought he might as well be a candidate for the profit. He laughed afterwards at your expense-not because he despised you; on the contrary, I believe that he liked you very much in his way, but because, in the world he lives in, every man enjoys a laugh at his acquaintance. Charlotte Lennox saw in you a desirable match; nay, I believe she had a positive regard for you: but she had been taught all her life to think equipage, wealth, and station better than love. She could not resist the temptation of being Marchioness of Austerly-not one girl in twenty could; yet she is not on that account the less good-tempered, goodnatured, or less likely to be a good mistress and a tolerable wife. Gilpin is the worst instance of the three.. Gilpin an evident scoundrel; but Gilpin is in evident distress. He was in all probability very sorry to attack you who had benefited him so largely; but perhaps, as he is a dull dog, the only thing the Magazines would buy of him was abuse.

You must not think he maligned you out

of malice, out of ingratitude, out of wantonness; he maligned you for ten guineas. Yet Gilpin is a man, who, having swindled his father out of ten guineas, would in the joy of the moment give five to a beggar. In the present case he was actuated by a better feeling; he was serving the friend of his childhood-few men forget those youthful ties, however they trample on others. Your mistake was not the single mistake of supposing the worst people the best-it was the double mistake of supposing common-place people -now the best-now the worst; in making what might have been a pleasant acquaintance an intimate friend; in believing a man in distress must necessarily be a man of merit; in thinking a goodtempered, pretty girl, was an exalted specimen of Human Nature. You were then about to fall into the opposite extreme--and to be as indiscriminating in suspicion as you were in credulity. Would that I could flatter myself that I had saved you from that-the more dangerous-error of the two!"

You have my dear Nelmore: and now lend me your Philosopher!"

"With pleasure; but one short maxim is as good as all Philosophers can teach you, for Philosophers can only enlarge on it—it is simple-it is this-'TAKE THE WORLD AS IT IS.'"

SONNET.

New Monthly Mag.

TO A DISTANT FRIEND

'Tis evening, and the summer has put on

Her richest dress, her way with flowers is strew'd,.
Beauty and music dwell in every wood,

And bower and meadow, hill and valley lone,

A gentle shower is o'er, the earth has wept
Its fragrance into freshness. In this hour,
When in a flood of glory all is dipp'd,
By the deep influence of a higher power,
My spirit leaves its prison-house, and flies
Towards the sweet haunts of thy summer home,
Where, lover-like, thy river* loves to roam;
'Tis there, I see thee with my mental eyes,
And hold communion with thee, day by day,
Though now we do not meet, and haply never may.

WILLIAM ANDERSON.

The Tweed-near Kelso,

A SCOTTISH SHEPHERD BOY.

"Here I ranne some Risk of loseing my Way, for these Moorland Places present few Lande-marks to the Eye of the Traveller, but I was so fortunate as to Discover ane Herd-boy, sitting with his Dog on ane Knowll, who furnish'd me with all necessarie Directions, and whom I found to be govern'd by a spirit of Urbanitie and Intelligence, which was worthy of commendation in a country so wild and salvage."—Melvin's Journal, an. 1709.

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