every day takes his seat, and appears, like, by Pierre Huet. They had wandered over this smiling country, and had repaired to the shore, loaded with precious stuffs, when they were stopped by an islander, of a beautiful countenance, who reclined under a tree, offering them a part of the grassy couch on which he lay stretched. The proposal was accepted; the man leaned towards them in the most affectionate manner, and sang a tender air to the sound of a flute, which another Indian, according to their custom, blew with the nose. He slowly sang a kind of elegy, the soft expression of which seemed to invite them to pleasure. the tower, as if time had forgotten him.— Pierre Huet is the name of this man, who has lived more than a century, and who has outlived many generations; Pierre Huet was born in a little village near Vitry-leFrançais. He remembers the imposing figure of Louis XIV., of the Regent, of Louis XV. and Louis XVI. which will never be effaced from his memory, that now receives no fresh objects, but which preserves, like an antique medal, the impression of times long gone by. One day, when he was about six years of age, his mother was holding him in her arms: all on a sudden, the couriers, guards, and It was from this period that Pierre Huet pages, passed rapidly by soon after ap-began to drink wine; and on his return peared a carriage—the air resounded with home, he married a woman who had been the cries of Vive le Roi; and this King was a widow sixteen years, and whose portion Louis XIV. In two years time Louis was was an only son, of whom he has never no more. Another time, as Pierre Huet ceased to take the kindest care: this woman was coming out of church, he saw Madame is now seventy-seven years of age, and is de Maintenon, herself, giving alms. These very proud of having an husband who has two images were deeply engraven on his seen Louis XIV. and been present at the memory, so as never to be forgotten. This battle of Fontenoy. She loves him, takes living witness of a century now passed care of him, and respects him, and hopes away, and who beheld the commencement fervently that she may not survive him. of this, is aged one hundred and eleven As for him, he thinks he shall live to attain years; he walks, hears, and sees as well the age of an hundred and twenty years; he did at sixty: the son of a common la- and far from repining at his lot, which has bourer, he quitted the quiet occupation of been only poverty for all his toils, he thinks his father, to embrace the life of a soldier. himself happy at being enabled to live After the wars of Hanover, he embarked, from day to day, without any care for the with his regiment, and served successively, morrow. The industry that maintains this in the marines, under the different orders singular couple is of that kind · which of Messieurs de Labourdonnaye, des Roches, could only prove successful at Paris.— and de Bougainville, with whom he made Pierre Huet, after sailing round the world, a voyage round the world. In India he finishes by coming into the flower market, saw some Bramins yet older than he him- and distributing among the flower girls a self is now; at Otaheite, Sybarites yet more powder to preserve and whiten their teeth. voluptuous than those of the French me- Some time ago he sold books, but he quit. tropolis; and it is not always under theted that trade for conscience sake: a man huts of the savages that we find the most || above an hundred years of age should neibarbarous manners. The delights of Ota-ther deceive a person nor set him to sleep. heite could not, however, cause him to forget Pierre Huet knew all the great projectors his native country. The confidence of the of the revolution; he saw them selling islanders, their voluptuous life passed near lies on their counters, while he was selling the tombs of their ancestors; the novelty, his drug on his own. Seated at the foot of the freshness of every object; the dangers the square tower, this aged man, with his of a tempest that the ships experienced in white beard and venerable figure, appears the roads, are all mingled in his memory; the image of time personified. A neutral but in the midst of this confusion of objects, spectator of the agitations which actuate is one charming scene, which, I believe, different parties, he has seen passing before has been recounted by Monsieur Bougain- him the people and their tyrants, Kings ville, but which it is delightful to hear told and their executioners: he has seen them || choose to understand it: he offers, to Heaven the incense of a man, chaste in the season of youth, faithful to his marriage vows, content with poverty, arrived at extreme old age, and free from infirmity; all disappear, while he yet remains. In the mean time, let us not conceal this sacred truth; he declares that it is religion, alone, that has sustained him in the troubles of his long existence: this is one of those Gothic prejudices which the modern free-preserving his life with patience, expectthinker must pardon, on account of his great age; he even carries his superstition so far as to take his wife to his parish church every Sunday; but, in spite of the fatal ignorance which prevents his following the manners of the present age, he yet offers a fine lesson to those who ing death without fear, fully persuaded, THE WONDER OF WONDERS!—AN ULTRA-FASHIONABLE DIVINE PROVIDENCE hath benefi- || and if the wife has not finally determined cently constituted the human heart to become more tenderly interested, in proportion as the suffering or infirmity of our relatives call for assiduous exertion. Even mental defects or aberrations, if not cou temptibly ridiculous or disgusting, or obstinately vicious, seldom fail to create, in more happily poised dispositions, a compassionate solicitude, which a small measure of success in meliorating the habits of an erring friend, will nurture into fonder attachment. If the faults are eradicated, we feel as though our wise perseverance had bestowed a new being, and self-love knits us more closely to the work of our own duteous vigilance and forbearance. The writer borrows these hints from a valuable old lady, who, in the first years of wedded life, had many trials of patience; but at length succeeded in detaching her husband from spurious gratifications, and during almost half a century received from him proofs of the most affectionate esteem. Talking of the discord in a neighbouring family, this venerable matron observed, "Mr. F- -'s infidelities cannot be palated by others—yet, if his wife had not inflamed his resentment, and wounded his pride, he might, perhaps, correct himself. I mean not to say a flagrantly injured wife should never seek redress from the laws of her country-yet, where helpless infants must be the sufferers, I would recommend a mild endeavour to reclaim the tyrant; upon irreconcileable separation, it is insanity to expose her wrongs to the cold pity, the derision, or misconstruction of the world. We all know, that to check the devouring progress of fire all external communication must be excluded; but Mrs. Facts as though the flames of wrath could be extinguished only by throwing abroad the smouldering sparks until they gush in raging columns from the open door and windows. Ah! she little considers how precious may be the recompence of the espoused, who, by reciprocally bearing and forbearing, come by degrees entirely to assimilate in tastes and habitudes. A man of a sound understanding and generous feelings, will not long be callous to the worth of a helpmate whose affection and prudence, suppressing and overcoming individual resentments, tacitly forgives his trespasses, and concentrates all her wishes in conducting him to ameudment and felicity. Our sex never approach so near to angelic perfection as when we benignly excuse in the lord of our destiny frailties abhorrent to our purity of heart and manners." Hampden had no repulsive, despicable, or flagitious foibles to tolerate in his Olivia, but follies not a few required counteraction. In the first months of their marriage Dr. Bryant engaged her to spend much of her time at home, by representing how injurious to the health of her beloved intermissions improve the zest of all our gratifications. You have spoken as a sage matron, to admonish your partner not to dispel the sweet illusions borrowed by ima gination from the rarity of pleasure. You can quote your own experience, how the poignant susceptibility of pleasure is impaired by two frequent excitation, and how restored by occasional abstinence." "You are, dare I say it? superabundantly sententious to-day, papa. Are you alarmed lest I shall again sparkle as an ultra-fashionable? Indeed I must own it will be not amiss to become whatever you and my liege lord prescribe: but I trust. you will not be very merciless to your poor helot." must be even a moderate participation in dissipated gaieties. Her own qualms soon made her unfit for public places, and being reduced by bilious complaints previous to the birth of a son, many weeks elapsed be. fore she could leave her bed, unless carried to the next room while her own received currents of fresh air. One morning while her father and husband exerted all their resources to amuse her, as she seemed unusually pensive, she gave vent to the thoughts that for some time had often reverted, fully relying upon Hampden's promptitude in asserting his right to figure in the highest circles. He was nearly related to nobility of the first distinction; and though his mother's elopement with an honourable who had no fortune but a A tear glistened in Olivia's downcast pair of epaulettes, had forfeited her father's eyes, and trickled down her glowing cheek. favour and any share of his wealth, the Hampden apparently stooped to caress his settlements liberally granted by Dr. Bry-sou, but his lips breathed a consolatory ant would enable him to sport a splen- sigh as he pressed the pearly drops that did equipage, and all suitable appendages. dissolved all his fortitude.—“Make no painThe attention his titled cousins had lavish-ful sacrifices on my account, my love," ed since his marriage, increased Olivia's whispered the doating husband. ambition to cultivate their acquaintance. Her father had very different views. He had advised her to suckle the infant, hoping to wean her from the infatuation which the Countess would sedulously seek to renew at her return; and her return to London was daily expected. "I have been thinking," said Olivia," "how vastly the pleasures of this dear bewitching town will be enhanced by novelty, after an interval of nearly twelve months." || Olivia saw his bright orbs dimmed by sympathy for her distress." No sacrifices for my Hampden! Could I not forego any fancy, every inclination for his sake, and deem all no sacrifice, I should not deserve his endearing kindness." Dr. Bryant had taken out his tablets and removed to a window-seat when Hampden bent over Olivia's pillow, and, occupied by his pencil, left the youthful pair to unreserved converse. Hampden's reply to Olivia's fond apostrophe greeted his ear in mellow tones of the softest fascination, and her irritated sensibility calmed to delicious languor, conceded whatever could promote the health and happiness of her heart's lord paramount. "Papa," she exclaimed in a playful voice," are you at leisure to accept a rarity?" In speaking, her imploring look baffled all Hampden's resolves against concurring in Olivia's passion for amusements. Her finely turned arms supported the babe as he drew nourishment from her bosom; and the address with which she reconciled this office to the strictest delicacy, without incommoding her tender charge, ineffably heightened the impression of her lovely features and exquisitely transparent complexion. Hampden's heart was penetrated by recollecting how much she had endured Dr. Bryant drew near: Olivia took his to make him an exulting father, and he hand, looked up with a thousand pleasant was on the point of utterance as she wish-meanings in her brilliant glances, and said, ed, when Dr. Bryant anticipated him, with " When a wilful girl, I expected papa seeming nonchalance responding :-" I am :-"I am should soothe me into good humour; now much of your mind, my dear Olivia, that a sedate matron lays at your paternal feet "Yes, my child, I am always at leisure when you invoke my attention in accents so exhilirating." "Pope debased his genius in sanctioning a most unjust and narrow-minded sarcasm," said Hampden indiguantly. "With as much truth should we estimate the most upright of men by the misdeeds of knaves and ruffians, as judge the best of women by the worst; and the worst have been corrupted by the perfidy of our sex.” a submissive palinode, disclaiming all ultrafashionable pretensions." "My dearest, my only child!" sobbed the fond parent; "6 you are, you will be worthy of your sainted mother. Now you deserve happiness, and must be happy. Fashion may be a presiding divinity in the drawing-room, and in scenes of public exhibition, but if predominating in the nursery she acts as a very fiend. In the sacred retreats of domestic privacy she may be admitted as a handmaid at the toilette, as an artist to decorate the apartments, or her culinary mysteries may embellish the table, but, I repeat it, if allowed to predo-other-for all the bliss of connubial love, minate, she acts as a fiend, especially in the nursery. Nature and simplicity must govern and superintend, if you would preserve the constitution of this helpless innocent." Olivia clasped her son more closely to her breast.-"Papa, you shall be dragoman for dame Nature and, her pretty cherub daughter Simplicity, till Hampden has instructed me in their dialect." "You have wit enough to befool us both if you like," said Dr. Bryant; "but you are now going to use it for a better purpose. I shall become too vain of my girl." "All the reward I shall ask is, that dear good papa no more gives me an oblique lash by repeating Pope's illiberal couplet, "Some men to business, some to pleasure take, "But every woman is at heart a rake." Olivia repaid these candid sentiments by looks expressive of tenderuess and admiration which no pathos of language could convey. "My children, my dear children," said Doctor Bryant, “you were formed for each sublimed into ever-growing friendship.— Your hearts are in the right place: you will be wise and good, without any affectation of singularity: you will be ornaments of society, and to each other daily more necessary to mutual comfort. You possess all intrinsic qualifications, and all external means for enjoyment, except some stated avocation. If Mr. Hampden has no objection, I shall provide employment to fill up vacant hours, and exercise his talents." "My dear Sir, I shall readily attempt what you recommend, and I know you will make indulgent allowances if incapacity, not indolence or idleness, should frustrate my willing efforts," replied Hampden. (To be concluded in our next.) BRIEF ACCOUNT OF VIENNA. THE manner of lighting the streets in Vienna is by lamps without reflectors, fixed in pots of earthen ware, and which are suspended from an iron in the form of a gibbet; the light descends laterally, and as the irons are fastened to the walls at the height of about ten feet, the lamp cannot be brought down; the lamplighter is ⚫bliged to trim and light it by lifting it up with a stick, at the end of which is a kind of mutilated funnel, and which draws it out of the reservoir, or replaces it, like a hook. This method renders the process very tedious, although all the lamps may be previously lighted in the boxes carried by the lamplighters. In the city the houses are of an immense height, but those in the suburbs are seldom more than two or three stories high. The streets where carriages are able to pass are all paved on the footway with flag stones, as in London. The narrow streets are paved all over with one kind of stone, but yet after the same model as the wider ones. Fires happen very seldom in Vienna, although the roofs of the houses are chiefly of wood. All the apartments are heated by large stoves constructed in such a manner that the flames cannot ascend. The funnels of the chimnies are terminated by a chapiter like a dormer window, which prevents the wind from driving back the smoke into the apartments. When a fire takes place they make use of engines and osier baskets lined with leather; but though the engines are well made they are too small, and they do not make use of the pipes to conduct the water on the place of conflagration, but trust to the mere play of the engine, which only sprinkles water on the flames. The windows of almost every house, especially the old ones, are grated; so that if a fire breaks out in the lower part of a building, it is next to an impossibility to save the lives of the inhabitants by the windows. There are stands of hackney coaches, all numbered, and which are obliged to carry the first person who calls them, if unhired. They are six hundred and fifty in number; the horses good and well harnessed, and they go at a very swift pace: but the coaches are hung so low, and are so narrow that they are far from pleasant, and will hold only three persons. As these coaches are not taxed, it is requisite to make a bargain with the driver beforehand, otherwise they will extort money, and be extremely insolent. The inns are remarkably clean; the rooms at the eating-houses are elegant; but both at them and at the inus the kitchens are detestable and unwholesome. There are seventy-five coffee-houses in this city, and five hundred beer-houses. The coffee-houses are mere smoking rooms, where numbers are seen smoking round one or more billiard tables. The refreshments, liqueurs, and ices are all badly prepared. The Germans eat very little bread, therefore baking is not brought to the perfection it is in France or England. The interior of their play-houses is without lustres; there are only a few wax-lights stuck against the boxes. The orchestra, which is called the Grand Parterre, is divided into stalls, which are raised one above the other as in cathedrals: every place is numbered, and may be taken beforehand. A padlock, or common lock, ensures to him who hires it his place, till the hour he chuses to go and occupy it. No single places can be taken in the boxes, but a party may hire a whole box. At every change of scene the machinist rings a bell, and before every air the prompter gives notice to the musicians by striking with a hammer on a thin piece of metal: this noise, and that of the bell ringing, are very disagreeable. If an actor is very much applauded, he advances to the front of the stage, thanks the public by a very low bow, and returns to his performance. Thus the dramatic illusion is entirely destroyed. The Saloon of Apollo is a kind of Vauxhall, situated in the suburbs of Vienna, and is of an extent which surpasses every thing of the kind in other countries. Three thousand dancers may there waltz with ease; and if it was made a mere assembly, it is capable of containing ten thousand people. It is impossible to conceive the singularity of the coup-d'œil which this place of amusement offers, illuminated and decorated by a profusion of beautiful orange trees, and animated by two or three moving circles, formed by waltzers, dancing with the most lovely girls of Vienna, to the sound of a numerous orchestra composed of wind instruments. Although the Prater is situated a full quarter of a league from town, the people flock thither in crowds every Sunday and holiday during the summer; the rich go there every day. It is a charming and animated picture! We may meet there Princes, citizens, monks, officers, and milliners' girls all mingled pêle-mêle together. We may behold twenty people in twenty different costumes-Turks, Greeks, Bohemians, Hungarians, Cossacks, and Jews; some with turbans round their heads, others with calottes; bearded rabbies, and anabaptists in brown levites, their heads covered with enormous hats: women of Vienna belonging to the class of rich tradesmen, wearing on their heads toques of gold in the form of Phrygian caps, their corsets made of the most costly stuffs, and handsome full petticoats; while the young villagers of both sexes have black straps girt round their waists. In the midst of this whimsical assemblage we see the most elegant people walking who belong to Vienna, dressed in the French fashion, but yet retaining in their carriage, and the manner of putting on their clothes, much of the ancient Teutonic. In the broad |