Lindley, pending the agony of his violoncello accompaniment to the "Batti Batti" of the now forgotten Mozart. The Colonel had hitherto with marvellous patience, from complaisance to his guest, forborne to mount his own hobby: finding, however, that the latter was in no hurry to dismount, he resolved, coute qui coute, to vault into his own proper saddle. The following dialogue forthwith ensued. I copy it verbatim, as a model of school friendship standing firm, in its community of tastes, amid the wreck of thirty years and upwards. "I am, I own, extremely partial to Rossini's Ricciardo e Zoraide: Garcia in Agorante excels himself: the critics object to his excess of ornament; but I own this has always appeared to me to be his chief merit."-" When the black sow litters again, I shall keep a sharp look out upon Master Holloway; and if he pulls down any more planks from my pig-stye, I mean to put him into the Spiritual Court."-"Catalani's spiritual concerts are not particularly well attended, and I am not sorry for it: Bochsa has started his oratorios with all the talent in town, and therefore ought to be encouraged. By the by, Madame Vestris is a woman of most versatile talent. Her mock Don Giovanni is admirable: not that I approve of any mockery of the Italian Opera: profaneness cannot be too steadily discouraged. But it is not a little surprising, that a woman who can act that sprightly comic extravaganza should be able to depict the jealous and indignant Princess Zomira."-"We have a club of clergymen who meet once a month at Kettering to shake hands and exchange sermons: last Friday month I gave one of mine to Doctor Pringle, whose grandfather was chaplain to the English factory at Lisbon, and received one of his in exchange. I intended to look it over on Sunday morning before church, but"-" How extremely well Madame Vestris, Camporese, and Garcia, execute that trio in the first act Sara l'alma delusa schernita:' when Madame Vestris comes in with her 'O l'indegno qui dove perir,' I declare she stands her ground most womanfully: the fact is, that the sweetness of Italian music"- "But Hannah and I were busy hunting the black sow out of the cucumber beds: we were so busy, crying, Hey tig! tig!' that we did not hear the bell toll: so up walked into the pulpit without ever once looking at the sermon""Those orange-tawny stuff curtains are a disgrace to the Opera house." 6 I -"well I began reading it, and to my great surprise I found that it had been preached by Doctor Pringle's grandfather immediately after the great earthquake at Lisbon. I therefore found myself under the disagreeable necessity of thus addressing my congregation at Kettering:When I look around me, and behold the effects of the late horrid devastation of nature: trees torn up by the roots: houses toppling to their foundation: men and cattle ingulphed in the earth, and the whole horizon rocking like the ocean in its most tempestuous moments.' You cannot imagine the sensation I excited: the women fanned themselves and fainted; and the men muttered to each other, Dear me! something unpleasant must have occurred since we entered the church!' -I never preached with so much effect either before or since." The regular amble of the Rev. George Withers's hobby had now contrived to distance the curvature and prance of colonel Nightingale's. The colonel pulled up, and lifting a small gold watch from his right waistcoat pocket, muttered to himself—“ Ah, the wretch! it is half-past retreat. 66 ten, and Catalani must have sung her second Cavatina.-Where do you lodge, Sir?" said the host, coldly to his guest "At the New Hummums."-" Indeed! are you aware that they close their doors at a quarter past eleven ?"-" You don't say so?"" Yes, I do: but you may find very pretty accommodation at the Finish': the street strollers and market gardeners speak of it in high terms." This hit told : the Reverend George Withers looked at his watch, and made a rapid "Well!” cried the Colonel the moment the door was closed, so much for school friendship: did you ever see such a vulgar dogsuch an idiot too-so blind to his own interest: if he had but held his tongue two minutes, I could have given him my opinion of Rossini's Zelmira.' I am one Opera night out of pocket by him, and that is enough to make me detest him to my dying day. Such illiberality too -did you hear him say,- What can you expect from a presbyterian -How I hate a man who vilifies a whole tribe for the faults of an individual!-I have long thought it, and I now know it-All men who live in the country are fools." LIFE AND DEATH. O FEAR not thou to die! Brief is the work of Death; O fear not thou to die! No more to suffer or to sin; No snares without thy faith to try, But fear, oh! rather fear The gay, the light, the changeful scene, Thy pure and holy hope, o'ercome O fear not thou to die! Who feels that never more The tear of grief, of shame shall come For thousand wanderings from the Power E. T. THE PRIORY DES DEUX AMANTS. I AM a rambler, Mr. Editor, fond of nature from my youth, grudg ing no pains in exploring her beauties, and never fatigued at gazing on a picturesque landscape. I have wandered far and wide, at home and abroad, and have encountered perils by sea and land. Time has ploughed my face deeply, but years have only strengthened my "ruling passion." Some time since, being in Normandy, and a succession of fine dry weather occurring towards the end of April, while sojourning at Rouen, (a circumstance very unusual at a spot which the inhabitants style the pot de chambre of the province,) I took the opportunity of making a few pedestrian excursions in the neighbourhood of that place of "ancient renown," one of which I will venture to detail, premising that sometimes, to my seeming, half the pleasure of a similar excursion consists in forsaking the foot-roads, and committing oneself as it were to destiny. Who that has travelled to Paris by Rouen, be he Cockney stealing a fortnight from his counting-house, debtor flying from bailiff, valetudinarian in search of health, or fashionable eluding the devil ennui-who that has travelled the lower road, as it is styled from Rouen to Paris, will ever forget it, if he possess one spark of affection for natural beauty, or have a soul worth one centime more than the clay tenement that houses it! By this road, on a delightful morning in spring, I left the capital of Neustria, (as Normandy was once called,) and keeping by the Seine, with Mount St. Catherine on my left hand, I soon got beyond the houses, which extend some way along the banks of that beautiful river. As I proceeded, the left side of my path was bounded by lofty hills, in some parts sloping to the road, and covered with verdure; in others, terminating in precipices as abrupt as a wall, and of the "chalk formation," as geologists have it. My walk for the first five miles continued nearly on a level with the river, the surface of which was broken by a number of islets charmingly green. Some were wooded and had a solitary house upon them, habitable in summer, and buried in fruit trees, the opening blossoms of which made them appear like magnificent bosquets set in crystal. Others were covered with pasturage kept in perpetual freshness by the surrounding stream. I felt so delighted with the pure air, the clear sky, and the "breath of spring," that, before I was aware, I found I had arrived opposite a curious little chapel in the cliff, of most romantic appearance; and a little further on entered a hamlet, the houses of which looked into the river. At this hamlet, in a little auberge on the water's side, I made an excellent breakfast on mutton chops and coffee. I now ascended a pretty steep but not very long bill, on the summit of which, in a situation of great beauty, at a place where the Seine makes an acute angle, a chateau is situated, commanding a view of the river lengthways as far as Rouen, with the heights beyond. Nothing could be finer to the eye than the prospect before me, the Seine meandering below, studded with innumerable islands, and sparkling gloriously in the sun. The Forest of Rouvray lay on the opposite side the water, across a level of rich verdure,the view bounded by its heights. Between, and as far up the sinuous river as the eye could command, was a valley charmingly diversified with wood and pasture the river's flow, The woody valley warm and low; I had rarely seen a view more attractive, for it was not too vast. It was extensive enough for the eye to distinguish the near and distant objects spread out before it, without a doubt as to their identity, and yet none of them were so clustered as to crowd the picture disadvantageously in any one part. It was nearly three quarters of an hour before I could turn my back upon this prospect, and proceed about a mile and half to the descent of the hill, which brought me across a tongue of high ground to the valley of the Seine again. On my right was a large chateau, called Igouville, which had been shut up since the Revolution: the road to Pont l'Arche, so famous in English and French history, passed close to it. In sight of the bridge and town of that name, I deviated to the left hand across a flat piece of low ground, passing a second forsaken building, and finding my way only by distant objects. Soon rising high, though far off, I saw before me the abrupt eminence, on the summit of which stands what was once the Priory des Deux Amants. Continuing my route, as I gradually approached the eminence, its abruptness and height became more and more striking. Among some scattered cottages, about half a mile from the base of the hill, I heard the sound of music, and soon saw the peasantry in groups, enjoying the pleasures of the dance. It was a fête day, and the rich sunshine and brilliant sky heightened the enchantment of the scene. Pleased and contented with the simplicity of their enjoyments, I could not but cast a thought homewards, and contrast the drunkenness and brutality of our country wakes with the simple and innocent exhibition before me. I must confess, that the disadvantage was decidedly on the part of my own country; even prejudice itself must have conceded this. After passing by several of these merry groups, I arrived on the shore of the little river Andelle, just above its junction with the Seine; the angle between the two rivers being occupied with the towering and lofty eminence on which the Priory stands. Being told that there were some Englishmen employed at a copper manufactory, a little higher up the stream, I determined to visit that first, and afterwards ascend the hill in despite of its fatiguing appearance to a weary pedestrian. At the works I accordingly found several who had been settled there before the Revolution, and well remembered the monks, whom they frequently visited. They described them as a good-natured indolent race, enormously bloated with idleness and good living: and further, that this Priory was one of those to which courtiers and others out of favour with the regime and court of the day, but well connected, were banished for their peccadillos. At the Revolution, they disappeared from the establishment one and one; some fell by the guillotine, and the fate of others was never known. At that period, the building was sold, and bought for a mere trifle by the present possessor, who had been a schoolmaster. One of the managers of the copper works agreed to ascend the hill with me; and we speedily set out together, soon arriving at the foot of the eminence, up which a narrow and difficult path conducted to the summit. I shall never forget the beauty of the prospect that first glanced on my view upon reaching the Priory. The long valley which lay in the direction of Rouen was bounded on either hand by forests, with here and there cultivated spots, farm-houses and villages; the blue Seine meandering through it, and the distant town of Pont L'Arche in view, with its bridge, the first on that river from the sea. This larger valley, divided by the promontory on which I stood, branched into two others of singular beauty, down one side of which the Seine also flowed in tranquil softness, bordered by lofty hills that came abruptly to its waters; on the other by a rich plain, smiling in full luxuriance of vegetation. The second valley was watered by the little river Andelle, that ran sparkling among bold forest scenery, from a part where its view was shut out by woods and hills as far as the eye could reach. The Andelle blended its water with the Seine immediately under my feet. Several of the outbuildings of the Priory were demolished, but the principal, which must have been rebuilt at some period not very long anterior to the Revolution, was entire, and inhabited by the proprietor. It was an oblong and extensive edifice, and had several very spacious apartments. The rooms were lofty, and this, together with the salubrity of the situation, must have well contributed to prolong the lives and sustain the appetites of its once luxurious inmates. On being introduced to the present owner, I was received with great civility, and a fine jack having been brought in which had been just taken out of the Seine, I was heartily pressed to partake of it, and informed that a bed was also at my service. Being pleased at the cordiality of the offer, the mode of making which convinced me of its sincerity, I accepted it without hesitation. Dinner was served up in a way that gave me no reason to complain of the want of hospitality in my host, and in an apartment that perhaps was once the refectory of the Priory. Of his attempts at speaking English, however, I can say nothing in praise, though, of our most noted authors, he seemed to possess something more than a mere familiarity with names. Pope and Thomson, like most of his countrymen, he placed at the summit of our literature, and could repeat, after a fashion, a great portion of the epistle to Abelard. Of the Seasons he spoke in a way that convinced me he really understood some of the most pleasing passages. Frenchmen are vain in every thing; and mine host of the Priory gave me a long detail of the agricultural improvements which, in his opinion, made Normandy so superior to England in cultivation. I astounded him by pointing out the careless mode in which the rich Norman soil was treated, naturally so superior to ours; and succeeded in convincing him that there was some truth in my observations. was then reforming his garden, but it struck me that his zeal for improvement much outstripped his knowledge of horticultural science. He seemed surprised at the statements I made of the product of our pineries, hothouses, and fruit-gardens, all of which are well known and emulated in Paris. It is one of the great misfortunes of France, that knowledge of every description accumulates alone in the capital. There is no dispersion of it at all proportioned to the extent of the country, and this is the great cause of the provincial and rural inhabitants being so much behind ours in every thing. The liberty of the press, the life He |