cried the voice,-and he threw it down immediately. "Throw the gullie" (alias knife)" from your pocket!" cried the voice,—and he did "There is a pin in your kilt," cried the voice: "I cannot be seen by any one with a pointed weapon!"-and he obeyed in this particular as well as in the rest. Mac Donald went forth. There was a high wind, and the sky was heavily clouded, but light enough to distinguish objects, for it was at the time of a full moon. He first looked straight forward, and then turning sharp round to the right, beheld two figures, not quite resting their feet upon the ground, as if in contempt of the laws of gravitation. They were hand in hand. One was the ghost of a man whose name was Campbell, and the other the ghost of his daughter, a little girl, who died on the very day the supernatural events began in the cottage;-as for Campbell, he died, as I am assured, some three months before her. The male apparition asked the farmer why he had not sent his boy away before, seeing that all his troubles were occasioned by him. "It was this my daughter," pursued he, "who constantly waited on him, served him with the best, chastised you for your cruelty, and, at last, whispered to him those dreams of America, while her spirit embraced him as he slept. For know--her soul was originally formed to be wedded to his; and we learnt that he might chance to marry here, and be wretched, not meeting with his fellow-soul. To come to my daughter, he must die young and innocent; and, for that purpose, it was necessary he should go to a foreign land. Expect, ere long, to hear he has quitted the living!" And such, indeed, happened. News came from America that, on the first night of the boy's landing there, he died in his sleep. S. WRITTEN IN A SMALL VOLUME, THE GIFT OF A HERALD of Love-dear pledge of tenderness! Remembrancer of vows through years unbroken! Yet canst thou now, to me, no pleasure give, L. SOCIAL CONVERSE. "AH, Madame!" said a French lady of rank, lamenting the memory of the celebrated Champfort, "j'ai perdu en lui mon meilleur causeur"-"I have lost in him my best talker. "-She spoke feelingly. Of the many voids daily occasioned by the frailty of life, that which is experienced by the ear is the deepest felt. Hearing is a domestic sense, on which the objects of home and friendship are strongly and unconsciously impressed. Sight is a more fickle, independent faculty, that can soon replace a lost object, or forget its image in the wide scope of variety. But the ear is more constant, and laments the absence of those sounds which had been familiar to it, with a freshness of sorrow that is always young. It is most open to association, and communicates with the heart so subtly and instantaneously, that it deserves more to be called a feeling than a sense. Hence the loss of a man of conversation leaves the greatest chasm in society-the more so, as the easy and imperceptible way in which he bestows pleasure prevents his merit from being fully appreciated till it is missed. On looking over the sweet sad histories of regrets for departed friendship, we generally find that those have been very consolable who were held together by passion and the needs of mutual excitement; while the overpowering and irremediable sensation of grief has visited those who were connected by the mere habits of life and daily intercourse, more than by any tenderer tie. The former can seek elsewhere for their accustomed pleasures; but what can replace the loved peculiarities of the old friend, or counterfeit that husk voice, which an acquaintance of half a century has converted into music? I am hence inclined to imagine that there is more of what may be called friendship among the French than with us. They are more linked together by the sounds of each other's voices, and at once the merriest and most melancholy of people, (if we believe their best authors *) they lean for happiness on the aspects and words of their fellows, and enjoying more than we the pleasures of society, are more alive to their loss. This, though it be mere speculation, is borne out by the memoires of both countries. We have no such "douces et pures" connexions to boast of, as those between La Fayette and La Rochefoucault,-with a thousand others. Their anecdotes and gleanings from private life, however "That_charming word melancholy has been abused enough to make it long since ridiculous, if any other word could have been found to express that disposition or habit of mind, to which the French are perhaps more inclined than any other people. This observation by no means compromises or contradicts the other no less true one, concerning the gaiety of their character."-Transl. from L'Hermite de la Chaussée D'Antin. they abound in vice, are full of the amiability of friendship*, and tempt one to cry out, "Let me live in the land where such things have been said, Let me fly from the land where such deeds have been done." There have been more rules promulgated and essays written on the subject of conversation than, I believe, on any other; yet it seems to be the least of all understood. It would be easy to fill this whole Number with maxims and regulations concerning it, even if we confined our quotations to the modern preceptors of politeness, commencing with Il Cortegiano of Castiglione, and terminating with my Lord Chesterfield. But they are. all, for the most part, like the philosopher in Rasselas, who first told him to follow nature, and, in his explication of nature, went into the deepest intricacies of art. Conversation, like all other habits, is a discipline, not a study; and would be generally understood if there were proper schools to practise as well as learn it in. But a school must have laws, and this does not please the young radicals of manners, who say, that where there is not perfect liberty and equality, there is nothing,-above all, no conversation. For my individual part, I hate republican manners, as an attempt to establish what cannot be a perfect equality among mankind. In spite of law and generalizing appellations, one man will out-top another, and assume the tone of elevation natural to his success. If this be acknowledged and recognized, it becomes a matter of course, an insignificant and unthought-of distinction; but when it appears of itself, unsanctioned by custom and authority, (and it must appear,) the proud feelings of others are awakened and fretted, which, in the open and natural ordination of rank, could not have repined at the general course of things. Thus by avoiding the simple inequality of dress and ceremony, the insolent one of bearing and behaviour becomes necessarily more strongly marked; and in seeking to destroy all envy on the one hand, and pride on the other, the bitterest seeds of both are sown, which start up the stronger, the deeper they are buried. As there are no two sets of features exactly alike, so there are no two minds equal; if they meet and become intimate, one must put Every one must have experienced, on perusing the commencement of that delightful book "Marmontel's Memoirs," an incredulity of the existence of such a simple and united state of society as is there depicted. The incredulity occasioned by other accounts as well as this, has often been corrected by experience. "In reading Madame Roland's curious and interesting "Memoires," I was forcibly struck by the vivid and delightful picture drawn of the innocent recreations which were taken by her little family in the woods of Vincennes and the groves of St. Cloud, on Sundays and holidays; and I thought them descriptive of manners too purely primitive to belong, at the present day, to such a city as Paris. These pictures, however, I saw a hundred times repeated, not only in the public gardens of the metropolis, but in all the environs of the capital."-" France," by Lady Morga a yoke upon the other;-this may not take place in an evening, but in the end it is inevitable. No thorough intimacy, on this account, can take place between men of first-rate genius: each must have a sphere and orbit to himself, and of this it is likely that they have an intuitive knowledge-an apprehension of coming together. All this must be but conjecture on my part; but since the truth of the inequality of genius, and the necessity of one's over-shadowing the other, struck me, I have always found it corroborated by example. In intellect, as in every thing else, there are gradations of rank, not only acquired by nature, but from peculiar pursuit, assiduity, and experience. The tact by which this is immediately apprehended, is the true key to conversation, as well as to more general politeness-to act with real deference, at the same time preserving independence, in one situation, and to assume the lead, when necessary, without shocking the self-loves of the company, in another. All this is included in that most useful part of learning “connoître bien ses gens”—to know your man. This superior good sense, to use a vulgar comparison, is like the constable's little truncheon of power, which, insignificant in appearance, all people are compelled to reverence and obey. The acute Hermit of the Chausée D'Antin well understood this, when, accounting for the diminished agreeability of society, he assigns as the reason, "c'est que les vieilles femmes nous manquent"-we have no old ladies. "That which in every country," continues he, "composes good society-women young and fascinating-youths polished and spirituel-men distinguished by their name, rank, or talents-all these are to be had to-day as easily as of old. But the bond of custom that connects these different elements, the link that holds them united, the invisible spring that sets them in motion-in a word, amiable matrons, are scarcely to be found even at Paris. I could nevertheless cite an example or two; but as few ladies, who have not yet attained the privilege of being no more, would think themselves flattered by the epithet vieille, I must recur to the days of Madame de Lambert, de Tencin, and du Deffant." We might echo the want "que les vieilles femmes nous manquent"-these amiable rallying points are not often enough met with amongst us, at least not in their proper stations, at the head of society. That union of years with the tender sex is not appreciated as it should be; for time does not act on the male and female heart alike-continually busied in erasing and confounding the impressions on one, it but softens and hallows the feelings of the other. Women "Never all grow old;" and there is that even about their gray hairs which youth, in "the very whirlwind of its passion," may appeal to with confidence. The chords of feeling vibrate in them to the last, and they thus possess a clue to all the little motives and errings of the "giddy young," which, to the sterner parent or friend, seem inexplicable obstinacy. Few will repent of following the maxim, “¿ì ypałą σε ἐπὶ Oappa,"-trust an old woman. Y. * TRANSLATION.-SONNET BY ALFIERI > Said to have been never before published. In dulcet accents, and harsh notes dismiss ; From whom the nations all their knowledge learn! H. SONETTO-D' ALFIERI. * Di Libertà maestri i Galli !-insegni L'Elveto, e l' Trace a porre in fior' i regni.- E Taide esempio alle donzelle sia D'ogni altra cosa insegnatori altrui ! Servi noi siamo, ma servi ognor frementi, Non quai foste, e quali or siete vui, Servi al poter qualunque ei sia plaudenti. |