ly connected with the dearest interest of those who are the objects of our esteem and veneration, our dear and highly respected friend, Lady Honoria Belmont has this morning received some communication from Scotland, the nature of which has nearly overwhelmed her with affliction; in fact, the lovely and amiable Jean, her Grace the Duchess of Belmont, is no more; she departed this life under the attack of a sudden and severe indisposition, and the whole family are now under the impression of the most deep and heart-wounding sorrow and regret ; nor do I wonder at it, when I consider the almost unrivalled excellence of the being who is so suddenly lost to them for..

ever.

“The name of Lady Jean Campbell was sainted in the memory of Scotland, and she is now sepulchred in the hearts of her brave countrymen, who will never cease to moisten her remains with the tear of affection, which sympathy has drawn from their bosoms.

"Caledonian friendship resembles the constancy of the ivy, which clings to the oak, which it never forsakes; in the rough tempest it is still firm and unshaken, as in summer sun it smiles to the opening breath of morning, yet will it not leave the shade that has so kindly protected it; and when the rude blast rumbles o'er its leaves,-yet, it clings fast to the faithful bosom, in whom it knows no change, nor is not torn from thence till death dissolves the concentrated union, which nought else had power to render perishable or frail."

This affecting apostrophe to the memory of the amiable Duchess, whom they had all known and admired, was not lost on the children of Mr. Trelawney, not one of whom but was presently melted into tears; nor was the sensibility of Mrs. Pelham less excited, as she well knew how dear the lovely Duchess had ever been to the heart of her benefactress; and poor little Mary, sobbing aloud, exclaimed,

“Oh, papa, how sorry I am for Lady Jean; how sadly she will grieve for her dear mamma, though the Duchess of Belmont was so kind and good to every body, that I dare say she was soon carried up to heaven, and is now made an angel-don't you think so papa?”

"Yes, my love," answered Mr. Trelawney, regarding the youthful prattler with inexpressible tenderness; "there is indeed little doubt but that the amiable Duchess now for ever dwells with gels."

He then turned to Mrs. Pelham, who still held her handkerchief to her eyes, and informed her that she would be pleased to get herself in readiness to attend the summons of Lady Honoria, who was desirous of seeing her in this moment, so trying and afflicting to her feelings, adding,

“Mrs. Trelawney is already gone to condole with her suffering friend; and when the carriage returns, Mrs. Pelham, it shall convey you to Belmont Lodge. 'Tis unfortunate, however, for Mrs. Trelawney to be absent from home on this day, as I had previously invited Lord Wyndham here to dinner, and the hour being late, I cannot send in time to prevent his Lordship coming. We must, therefore, arrange matters as well as circumstances will admit of; and though it is exceedingly painful to my feelings to see company at this juncture, I know not consistently how to avoid it on the present occasion. Emma, I am now going to request a favor of you, my dear girl, and hope you will not refuse me."

A favor, and from Emma, dear uncle!" said the blushing girl, with surprise and astonishment alternately blended in each lovely feature; "you have only to impose commands upon Emina, and doubt not but they will always be most cheerfully obeyed."

"It is not commands, my dearest creature, that I am going to solicit on your gentle nature," uttered Mr. Trelawney, viewing a countenance which at this moment shone with all the mild and beautiful expression of her mother, and now more than ever recalled to his mind's eye the image of the long sainted Rebecca; "it is only a request, a simple request, that in the absence of your aunt you will this day sit at the head of my table. Your aunt Clarendale has po. sitively refused me; and my Alexina is yet too unfinished, and has not courage enough to undertake so arduous a situation; but you, Emma, are more accustomed to see company, and I have no doubt will acquit yourself of this ceremony with grace and propriety."

The lovely Emma blushed at this compliment, paid to her by Mr. Trelawney; and, with the most becoming diffidence, answered him with her usual sweetness:

"I will do my best, my dear uncle," uttered she; "but indeed I must beg you to grant me your kind indulgence, if my anxiety to pay every attention to your noble guest should be greater than my ability on the occasion."

"Well, well, we shall see to-day in what manner you will do the honors of the table," said Mr. Trelawney, with a most cordial smile of approbation; "and if I really do discover any very glaring defects in my Emma, I certainly will tell her of them."

On this assurance, the sweet girl seemed perfectly satisfied; and the absence of Mrs. Pelham being now indispensibly necessary, the young ladies had permission to finish their studies for the remainder of the day, Mr. Trelawney being about to retire with the young gentlemen, telling his daughter Alexina to hold herself in readiness to produce some of her most pleasing selections for her harp, in the probability that Lord Wyndham would request her both to sing and play on this his favorite instrument.

“For I can assure you," said Mr. Trelawney, "that I am this day going to introduce you to one of the most accomplished highlyfinished gentlemen in Great Britain, in the person of my friend Lord Egbert Wyndham; and when I add, that his Lorship's accomplishments, though eminent, are yet his least perfections, you will naturally imagine that he possesses qualities of far more intrinsic value, in my estimation, than even those I have already mentioned; there is not a nobler heart beats in any bosom, than in my highly venerated friend's. Of course then, my love, you will exert the best of your abilities both to please and gratify your father's friend."

As this speech was directed more particularly to Miss Trelawney, than to any other part of the lovely girls, William could not avoid suggesting a thought that it was designed only for Alexina herself, for some peculiar reason best known to his father, and felt infinitely relieved, that his lovely cousin on this occasion only, was considered a secondary object, as Mr. Trelawney had not once glanced towards Emma, while he gave this highly flattering portrait of his friend; for William, notwithstanding his utmost efforts to conceal it, by no means relished the thought of Emma being chosen by his father for the very distinguished station she was this day appointed to fulfil, and that her uncommon loveliness would by this means attract the most universal admiration, from all who beheld her, created sensations which though he endeavored to suppress, were too perceptible in the changes of his countenance not to be discovered by the penetrating eye of Mr. Trelawney; to which may very possibly be attri