satisfied. Whether she is, or is not, he never pauses to inquire. Nay, more, he would treat any indication of discontent as proof of a very unreasonable exigeance. What does she, what can she, require? Has she not a brilliant position? This is the first essential in the catalogue of necessaries for happiness, in the estimation of the world in general, and of the male part of it in particular. Yet who, with a sensitive heart or elevated mind, ever attained felicity in it, unaided by the domestic affections? As well might it be supposed, that, because a woman is sparkling in diamonds of an inestimable price, she is happy. brilliant position, like the glitter of the diamonds, is only seen by others; the owner beholds not the lustre, though she is conscious of the weight. Has she not wealth to furnish every object that taste or fancy can desire, or luxury suggest? True; but did wealth ever The yet yield happiness, unless he with whom it is shared gave zest to its enjoyment? As well offer gold instead of bread to a starving wretch in a wilderness, as imagine that riches can satisfy a heart pining for affection and sympathy. If I know myself, I think that, had I found my husband's happiness depended at all on me, I should have silenced the murmurs of my own heart to administer peace to his; but as it isyet will I not despair, yes, I will cling to this new, this helpless object, that has none else. but me to protect or cherish him, and endeavour to forget, in his welfare, the selfish regrets of a disappointed spirit. How happy are you, dearest Mary, in having found a partner for life whose purest source of enjoyment you constitute, and to whom your perpetual presence and soothing attentions are too necessary not to render even a temporary deprivation of them felt as a misfortune difficult to be borne, and their restoration impatiently desired! Alas! I fear I must pray not to become your envious, instead of being, as now, your affectionate friend, AUGUSTA ANNANDALE. MISS MONTRESSOR TO THE MARQUISE ME voici, chère amie, in London, that imagined El dorado of spinsters; where rich bachelors float on the surface of society, as fish do in rivers, to be caught by those who know how to lure them. But, though they frequently rise to the bait, and nibble sometimes, yet are they rarely hooked. Whether their escape proceeds from their wariness, or the unskil fulness of the angler, I have not yet had time to ascertain; but I mean to make the experiment, and you shall hear the result. I more than once feared, that, after all, I should not come here; madame ma tante had so many scruples to be vanquished, and was so little disposed to yield any of them to my reasoning powers, of which, entre nous, she appears to entertain no very exalted opinion. I console myself for her humiliating depreciation of me, by the recollection, that in proportion to the obtuseness of the mind acted upon, is the want of perception of the ability, of the agency, brought to bear against it. It is thus that our vanity offers a salve to the wounds inflicted on it. My aunt thought, forsooth, that Lady Annandale was too young to be a prudent chaperon for me. I ventured to suggest that I was old enough to be a prudent chaperon for her. This retort only produced a portentous shake of the head, and a,-"I fear, Caroline, you have adopted habits and sentiments on the Continent totally at variance with our English notions of propriety; notions that render you a very unfit friend for one who ought to be wholly, purely English." "Call me aunt, in good plain English, Caroline; for your French aunts seem to me to be very like comedy aunts, only brought on the stage to be duped or ridiculed, or both." "Well, my dear aunt, in sober, sad English, why should you suppose that the feelings and notions on the Continent are at variance with those of England?" "Because I have seen and heard of conduct in foreigners that I consider most objectionable; yet which, amongst them, excited no censure." "That is to say, aunt, you heard no ill |