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once nointing I intends being at Weston every Monday morning ten o'clock at Cossey at the same time and Cringleford all under one."

DROLL EPITAPH,

In a country Church-yard in the north of Ireland.
Here liggeith J. Martin Elmrod;
Ha' mercy on my saul gude God,
As I wad yeres, an I were God,
An ye were Martin Elmrod.

EPITAPH ON MAN.

Here lies fast asleep, awake me who can,
That medley of passions and follies, a man,
Who sometimes lov'd license, and sometimes restraint,
Too much of the sinner, too little the saint.
From quarter to quarter I shifted my track
'Gainst the evils of life, a most notable quack;
But, alas! I soon found the defects of my skill,
And my nostrums in practice prov'd treacherous still.
From life's certain ills, 'twas in vain to seek ease,
The remedy oft prov'd another disease;

What in rapture began often ended in sorrow,

And the pleasure to-day brought reflection to-morrow.
When each action was o'er, and its errors were seen,
Then I view'd with surprise the strange thing I had been
My body and mind were so oddly contriv'd,
That at each other's failings both parties conniv'd:
Imprudence of mind brought on sickness and pain,
The body, diseas'd, paid the debt back again.
Thus coupl'd together life's journey they last,
'Till they wrangl'd, and jangl'd, and parted at last.
Thus tir'd and fatigu'd I have finish'd my course,
And glad it is bed-time and things are no worse.

DEATH OF DR. GOLDSMITH.

Deserted is the Village; the Traveller hath laid him down to rest; the Good-natured Man is no more; he Stoops but to Conquer; the Vicar hath performed his last sad office; it is a mournful lesson from which the Hermit may essay to meet the dread tyrant with more than Roman fortitude.

RECIPE FOR A LADY'S DRESS.

"Let simplicity be your white, chastity your vermillion; dress your eye-brows with modesty, and your lips with reservedness. Let instruction be your ear-rings, and a rubycross the front pin on your head. Submission to your husband is your best ornament. Employ your hands in housewifery, and keep your feet within your own doors. Let your garments be made of the silk of probity, the fine linen of sanctity, and the purple of chastity."

(To be Resumed.)

CALENDAR OF NATURE.

(Resumed from page 379.)

AUGUST.

The eighth was August, being rich array'd,
In garment all of gold downe to the ground:
Yet rode he not, but led a lovely mayd

Forth by the lily hand, the which was crown'd
With eares of corne, and full her hand was found.

That was the righteous Virgin, which of old

Liv'd here on earth, and plenty made abound;
But after wrong was lov'd, and justice solde,

She left the unrighteous world, and was to heav'n extol'd.

SPENSER.

ADMIRE the deep beauty of this allegorical picture. Spenser takes advantage of the sign of the Zodiac, the Virgin, to convert her into Astrea, the goddess of justice, who seems to return to earth awhile, when the exuberance of the season presents enough for all.

August is so named from Augustus, a clever man of the world, who, partly by chance, and partly by foolish political hopelessness, was allowed to become master of it. The Romans originally called July and August Quintilis and Sextilis, or fifth and sixth months, dating from the old yearly commencement of March, September, October, November, and December, meant the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth months, accordingly. It is lucky that Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, did not take a fancy for christening these; for, in modern times, opinion came up to contest the government of the world with mere power, and there was an

end of such universal dictation; otherwise we might have had to talk of delightful bowers in Inquisition Month, or have written vernal odes on the re-appearance of " young-eyed

Massacre."

This is the month of harvest. The crops usually begin with rye and oats, proceed with wheat, and finish with pease and beans. Harvest-home is still the greatest rural holiday in England, because it concludes at once the most laborious and most lucrative of the farmer's employments, and unites repose and profit. Thank heaven there are, and must be, seasons of some repose in agricultural employments, or the countryman would work with as unceasing a madness, and contrive to be almost as diseased and unhealthy as the citizen. But here again, and for the reasons already mentioned, our holiday-making is not what it was. Our ancestors used to burst into an enthusiasm of joy at the end of harvest, and appear even to have mingled their previous labour with considerable merry-making, in which they imitated the equality of the earlier ages. They crowned the wheat-sheaves with flowers, they sung, they shouted, they danced, they invited each other, or met to feast as at Christmas, in the halls of rich houses; and what was a very amiable custom, and wise beyond the commoner wisdom that may seem to lie on the top of it, every one that had been concerned, man, woman, and child, received a little present, ribbons, laces, or sweetmeats. The number of flowers is now sensibly diminished. Those that flower newly are nigella, zinnias, polyanthuses, loveapples, mignonette, capsicums, Michaelmas daisies, auriculas, asters or stars, and China-asters. The additional trees and shrubs in flower are the tamarisk, altheas, Venetian sumach, pomegranates, the beautiful passion-flower, the trumpet flower, and the Virgin's bower or clematis, which is such a quick and handsome climber. But the quantity of fruit is considerably multiplied, especially that of pears, peaches, apricots, and grapes. And if the little delicate wild flowers have at last withdrawn from the hot sun, the wastes, marshes, and woods are dressed in the luxuriant attire of ferns and heaths, with all their varieties of green, purple, and gold. A piece of waste land, especially where the ground is broken up into little inequalities, as Hampstead-heath, for instance, is now a most bright as well as picturesque object; all the ground, which is in light, giving the sun, as it were, gold for

gold Mignonette, intended to flower in winter, should now be planted in pots, and have the benefit of a warm situation. Seedlings in pots should have the morning sunshine, and annuals in pots be frequently watered.

In the middle of this month, the young goldfinch broods appear, lapwings congregate, thistle-down floats, and birds resume their spring songs :-a little afterwards flies abound in windows, linnets congregate, and bulls make their shrill autumnal bellowing; and towards the end the beech tree turns yellow, the first symptom of approaching autumn. (To be Resumed.)

THE HARP, A TALE.

From the German of the poet Korner; addressed to such as believe in the agency of Spirits.

THE secretary Sellner had begun to taste the first spring of happiness with his youthful bride. Their union was not founded on that vague and evanescent passion which often lives and dies almost in the same moment-sympathy and esteem formed the basis of their attachment. Time and experience, without diminishing the ardour, had confirmed the permanence, of their mutual sentiments. It was long since they had discovered that they were formed for each other, but want of fortune imposed the necessity of a tedious probation; till Sellner, by obtaining the patent for a place, found himself in possession of an easy competence, and on the following Sunday brought home in triumph his long-betrothed bride. A succession of ceremonious visits for some weeks engrossed many of those hours that the young couple would have devoted to each other. But no sooner was this onerous duty fulfilled, than they eagerly escaped from the intrusion of society to their delicious solitude; and the fine summer evenings were but too short for plans and anticipations of future felicity. Sellner's flute and Josephine's harp filled up the intervals of conversation, and with their harmonious unison seemed to sound the prelude to many succeeding years of bliss and concord. One evening, when Josephine had played longer than usual, she suddenly complained of head-ache; she had, in reality, risen with this symptom of indisposition, but concealed it from her anxious husband; naturally susceptible of nervous complaints, the attention

which she had lent to the music, and the emotions it excited in her delicate frame, had increased a slight indisposition to fever, and she was now evidently ill. A physician was called in, who so little anticipated danger that he promised a cure on the morrow.. But after a night spent in delirium, her disorder was pronounced a nervous fever, which completely baffled the efforts of medical skill, and on the ninth day was confessedly mortal. Josephine herself was perfectly sensible of her approaching dissolution, and with mild resignation submitted to her fate.

Addressing her husband, for the last time, she exclaimed: My dear Edward, heaven can witness it is with unutterable regret that I depart from this fair world, where I have found with thee a state of supreme felicity; but though I am no longer permitted to live in those arms, doubt not thy faithful Josephine shall still hover round thee, and as a guardian-angel encircle thee till we meet again." She had scarcely uttered these words when she sunk on her pillow, and soon fell into a slumber, from which she awoke no more; and when the clock was striking nine, it was observed that she had breathed her last. The agonies of Sellner may be more easily conceived than described: during some days it appeared doubtful whether he would survive; and when, after a confinement of some weeks, he was at length permitted to leave his chamber, the powers of youth seemed paralysed, his limbs were enfeebled, his frame emaciated, and he sunk into a state of stupor, from which he was only to be roused by the bitterness of grief. To this poignant anguish succeeded a fixed melancholy; a deep sorrow consecrated the memory of his beloved her apartment remained precisely in the state in which it had been left previous to her death ;on the work-table lay her unfinished task; the harp stood in its accustomed nook, untouched and silent; every night Sellner went in a sort of pilgrimage to the sanctuary of his love, and taking his flute, breathed forth, in deep plaintive tones, his fervent aspirations for the cherished shade. was thus standing in Josephine's apartment, lost in thought, when a broad gleam of moonlight fell on the open window, and from the neighbouring tower the watchman proclaimed the ninth hour; at this moment, as if touched by some invisible spirit, the harp was heard to respond to his flute in perfect unison. Thunderstruck at this prodigy, Sellner suspended

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