However incredible this may appear, it is yet strictly true; his clothes cost him nothing, for he took them out of an old chest, where they had lain since the gay days of Sir Jervaise.

He kept his houshold chiefly upon game and fish, which he had in his own ponds; and the cows which grazed before his doors, furnished milk, cheese, and butter, for the little œconomical houshold......What fuel he did burn, his woods supplied.

Those who have wished to find an excuse for the penury of Sir Harvey, have urged, that he had passed so long a period of his life alone, in recovering the estate, that he could not again encounter the world; and that his shyness was so extreme, that company gave him no plea

sure.

To those who are continually courting the bustle of society, and the favour of public scenes, it may be curious to learn, that here was a man, who had the courage to live nearly seventy years alone!

And this was done without former scenes to afford matter for reflection, or books to entertain, but in pursuing one ruling passion......the amassing of unused wealth.

To the whole of this property Mr. Elwes succeeded; and it was imagined, that his own was not, at that time, very inferior. He got too an additional seat......but he got it, as it had been most religiously delivered down for ages past. The furniture was most sacredly antique; not a room was painted nor a window repaired; the beds above stairs were all in canopy and state, where the worms and moths held their undisturbed reign; and the roof of the house was inimitable for the climate of Italy.

In short, the whole verified what was said..." That nobody would live with Sir Harvey Elwes if they could......nor could they if they would."

HISTORY

of

MISS HARRIOT ASPIN;

or,

THE DANGER OF SPORTING WITH CREDULITY.

HARRIOT ASPIN was the youngest of four sisters, who in their childhood had all a prospect of passing through life with every advantage that beauty and fortune can bestow. But destiny ordained it otherwise. The extravagance of their father abridged the portion of each, and the little Harriot had the additional affliction of personal calamities. From a fall which her nurse occasioned, and concealed, she contracted a great degree of deformity; and the injuries that her frame had received from accident, were completed in what her countenance

suffered from that cruel distemper, by which beauty was so frequently destroyed, before the happy introduction of inoculation. Her countenance and person were wretchedly disfigured; but her mind still possessed the most valuable of mental powers, and her heart was embellished by every generous affection. Her friends were many; but she had passed her fortieth year without once hearing the addresses of a single lover; yet the fancied whisper of this enchanting passion often vibrated in her ear; for, with a solid and brilliant understanding, she was deeply tinctured with this credulous foible. As she advanced towards fifty, finding her income very narrow, and her situation unpleasant, she took shelter in the family of her favourite sister, married to a good-natured man of easy fortune; who, though he had several children, very readily allowed his wife to afford an asylum, and administer all the comforts in her power, to this unfortunate relation.

The good deeds of benevolence rarely pass unrewarded. The obliging temper of Harriot, united to infinite wit and vivacity, contributed to restore the declining health of her sister, and enlivened the house, into which she was so kindly admitted. She endeared herself to every branch of it; but her second nephew, whose name is Edward, became her principal favourite, and returned her partiality with more esteem and affection than nephews are used to feel for an old maiden aunt. Indeed, there was a striking similarity in their characters, for they both possessed a very uncommon portion of wit, with extreme generosity and good-nature. Harriot had the most perfect penetration into the foibles of every character but her own, and had the art of treating them with such tender and salutary mirth, that she preserved her nephew, whose constitution was amorous and vain, from a thousand follies, into which the giddiness of his passions would otherwise have betrayed him; and, what is still more to her honour, when he was really fallen into some juvenile scrape, which sometimes would happen, she never failed to assist him, both with secret advice, and the private aid of such little sums of money as she always contrived to save from her slender income, for the most generous of purposes. By her last beneficence of this nature, she had enabled her nephew to redeem his gold watch, which Edward, who stood in awe of his father, had actually pawned, to deliver a poor and unfortunate girl from a spunging-house.

It was almost impossible not to love a maiden aunt of so engaging a character; and Edward, whose affections were naturally ardent, loved her, indeed, most sincerely; but his penetration discovered her foible, and the vivacity of his spirit often tempted him to sport with it. Hitherto, however, he had done so in the most harmless manner; but a circumstance arose, which fully proved the danger of this ordinary diversion. Edward, being a younger brother, was designed for the profession of physic. He had studied at Edinburgh, and, returning from thence to London, had brought with him a medical friend, who was a native of Savoy, and was preparing to settle as a physician at Turin. In the gaiety of his heart, Edward informed his aunt Harriot, that he had provided her with a husband; and he enlarged on the excellent qualities of his friend. The Savoyard was extremely polite, and, either attracted by the pleasantry of her conversation, or touched with medical pity for the striking infelicity of her distorted frame, he had paid particular attention to Miss Aspin; for, being yet under fifty, she had not assumed the title of Mrs. This particular attention was fully sufficient to con

vince the credulous Harriot, that her nephew was serious; but she was unluckily confirmed in that illusion, by his saying to her one evening, "Well, my dear aunt, my friend is to leave England on Monday; consider upon your pillow, whether you will pass the Alps, to settle with him for life, and let me know your decision before the week expires." The sportive Edward was very far from supposing, that these idle words could be productive of any fatal event; for the health of his aunt was such, that he considered his proposal of crossing the Alps full as extravagant as if he had proposed to her to settle in the moon; but let youth and vigour remember, that they seldom can form a just estimate of the wishes, the thoughts, and feelings of infirmity! ...... Poor Harriot had no sooner retired to her chamber, than she entered into a profound debate with a favourite maid, who used to sleep in her room, concerning the dangers of crossing the Alps, and the state of her health. In this debate, both her heart and her fancy played the part of very able advocates, and defended a weak cause by an astonishing variety of arguments in its favour. They utterly overpowered her judgnient; but they could not bias the sounder sentence of Molly, who was seated on the bench on this occasion. This honest girl, who happened to have a real lover in England, had many motives to dissuade her mistress from an extravagant project of settling in a foreign country; and she uttered as many reasons to poor Harriot against the passage of the Alps, as were urged to the son of Amilcar by his Carthaginian friends, when he first talked of traversing those tremendous mountains. The debate was very warm on both sides, and supported through the greatest part of the night The spirited Harriot was horribly fatigued by the discourse, but utterly unconvinced by the forcible arguments of her op ponent. She even believed that the journey would prove a remedy for her asthmatic complaints; her desire of a matrimonial establishment was full as efficacious as the vinegar of Hannibal, and the Alps melted before it. At the dawn of day she had positively determined to follow the fortunes of the amiable Savoyard: The peace of mind which this decision produced, afforded a short slumber; but on waking, she was very far from being refreshed, and found that her unhappy frame had suffered so much from the agitation of her spirits, and the want of her usual sleep, that she was unable to appear at breakfast. This, however, was a circumstance too common to alarm the family; for though her chearfulness never forsook her, yet her little portion of strength was frequently exhausted, and her breath often seemed on the very point of departing from her diminutive body. Towards noon, her sister entered her chamber, to make a kind enquiry concerning her health. It was a warm day in spring; yet Harriot, who was extremely chilly, had seated herself in a little low chair, by the side of a large fire. Her feet were strangely twisted together, and, leaning forward to rest her elbow on her knee, she supported her head on her right hand. To the affectionate questions of her sister she made no reply, but, starting from her reverie, walked with apparent difficulty across the chainber, and saying, with a feeble and broken voice, I can never pass the Alps," sunk down on the side of her bed, and with one deep sigh, but without any convulsive struggle, expired. Whether the much-injured and defective organs of her life were completely worn out by time, or whether the conflict of different affections, which had harassed her spirit through the night, really shortened her existence the All-seeing

Author of it can alone determine. It is certain, however, that her death, and the peculiar circumstances attending it, produced among her relations the most poignant affliction. As she died without one convulsive motion, her sister could hardly believe her to be dead; and as this good lady had not attended to the levities of her son Edward, she could not comprehend the last words of Harriot, till her faithful servant gave a full and honest account of the nightly conversation which had passed be, tween herself and her departed mistress, As her nephew Edward was my intimate friend, and I well knew his regard for this singular little being, I hastened to him the first moment that I heard she was no more. I found him under the strongest impression of recent grief, and in the midst of that self-accusation so natural to a generous spirit upon such an occasion. I endeavoured to comfort him, by observing, that death, which ought, perhaps, never to be considered as an evil, might surely be esteemed a blessing to a person, whose unfortunate infirmities of body must undoubtedly have been a source of incessant suffering. Alas! my dear friend, he replied, both my heart and my understanding refuse to subscribe to the ideas, by which you so kindly try to console me. low, indeed, that her frame was unhappy, and her health most delicate; but who had a keener relish for all the genuine pleasures which belong to a lively and a cultivated mind, and still more, of all those higher delights, which are at once the test and the reward of a benevolent heart? It is true, she had her foibles; but what right had I to sport with them? To me they ought to have been particularly sacred; for she never looked upon mine, but with the most generous indulgence. Poor Harriot! he would frequently exclaim, poor aunt Harriot! I have basely abridged thy very weak, but not unjoyous existence, by the most unthinking barbarity. I will, however, be tender to thy memory; and I wish that I could warn the world against the dangerous cruelty of jesting with the credulity of every being who may resemble thee.

THE CA

I al

Anecdote of the late King of Prussia.

It came to the King's knowledge, that a corporal of his body regi ment, a fine young fellow, wore a watch chain suspended from a leaden ball, merely from a wish to appear consequential.-His Majesty wanting to be convinced of the matter, it was so settled, that the corporal could not fail meeting him at a particular hour, "Ah! corporal," said the monarch, "you inust be a brave fellow, to have saved a watch out of your pay. "I flatter myself that I am brave, sire," said the man, "but the watch is of very little consequence." The King taking out a gold watch, set round with diamonds, said, "My watch points at five how much is yours?" Shame and confusion appeared at first in the poor corporal's face; and, however unwilling he might be to boast at that moment, he drew out his chain with the bullet, and answered, with a firm voice- "My watch, your Majesty, shews neither five nor six; but it points out to me, in the clearest manner, that death which I am ready to die for my King at any moment." The monarch replied, "In order that you may see daily, one of those hours in which you are to die for me- -take this watch."

THE PILGRIM'S STORY.

BY MRS. ROBINSON.

"MY eyes first opened to the vicissitudes of life, in the city of Avignon. My father was a general in the French service; and, my mother, the only offspring of her noble, but indigent parents. They were united by disinterested affection, and as their happiness centered in each other, they were above the envy, or the malice of mankind. My father's fortune, though not competent to procure the luxuries of the world, was, by my mother's economy and exemplary prudence, sufficient for the enjoyment of every comfort.

"I was the only fruit of their unsullied attachment. My amiable mother only survived a few minutes after she gave me being. She embraced me, and clasping me to her bosom, resigned her gentle soul to endless happiness.

"My father, whose profession called him from Avignon when I was scarcely three years old, committed the care of my education to the Abbe de Versac, a distant relation of my mother. He was a man celebrated for his profound erudition and brilliant talents; he instructed my young mind in all the elegant acquirements of a scholar and a gentleman. The labours of his anxious hours were repaid by my close application to the precepts he wished to inculcate.

"At the age of seventeen I had acquired a competent knowledge of the classics, and had already composed many successful pieces in imitation of the Greek and Latin poets. The rocks of Vancluse, conse.crated by the inspiration of the muses, had often echoed with my matin song, and the celestial form of the immortal Laura, frequently blessed in visionary dreams the slumbers of the evening!

"I felt rapt, inspired, as I traversed the deep valley, or mused beneath the laurel'd bower, dedicated to love and virtue! I wandered on the margin of the shallow rivulets that were once dear to the faithful Petrarch, their murmurs soothed my pensive heart; and, as I dropped a tear upon their bubbling surface, I felt the conscious delight of having paid the tender tribute due to his memory and his sorrows! Often did I cast my listless form upon the sod, made sacred by the foot-steps of the wandering lovers. These were my happy moments-transient indeed they were, for they now almost appear to have been the phantoms of a bewildered faucy. The subduing hand of misery has nearly erased the very shadows of my early hours; the bright delusions of youths glowing day are sunk in cold oblivion, as the glorious sun sets in the border of the dark and troubled occean!

"Filled with romantic inspiration, my mind was softened like the tempered wax, and ready to receive the tenderest impressions.

"In the vicinity of Avignon, beneath the shades of an enbowering