in those little endearments which innocence inspires. My father possessed a cultivated taste, and was well acquainted with the works of the best writers of the day. His leisure hours were occupied in reading, (for, through the kindness of the steward, he had free access to Sir Edward's library, and could obtain the loan of any book he wanted) and imparting instruction to myself. At the age of six I could read tolerable well, and understand what I read; but no book delighted me so much as the affecting tale of Paul and Virginia.' This was my favourite volume; and often has the sweet Agnes mingled her tears with mine, while perusing its pages. She had an elder brother, but he seldom associated with us, for his aunt had centered all her regards in him, and instilled into his mind every notion of high birth and exalted parentage. Yet he was not happy; for when he did deign to share our childish sports, 1 can well remember the gusts of passion which agitated him, if I did not immediately comply with his wishes, and submit to his caprice; but the last two years before Sir Edward's return, he had been under the management of a tutor, whose kindness I shall never forget. This worthy and excellent man was also a constant visitor at the cottage, whenever his duties would permit; and to his instructions am I indebted for whatever knowledge I possess.

When in my eighth year, intelligence arrived of Sir Edward's return; and much as I desired to see the father of Agnes, still I can remember a dejection came upon my spirits, and I seemed to dread it as something which foreboded evil. He received me, however, with great kindness, as the foster-brother of Agnes; but never shall I forget his terrible look, when, with the playful familiary of childhood, the dear girl put her little white arms round my

neck. It was the first time I had ever witnessed a storm of passion, and it left an impression on my mind which time can never efface. I was removed from the castle; and nothing but the persuasions of his sister and a nobleman who had accompanied him, would have prevented the dismissal of my father from his situation. In a few days afterwards, the Baronet, with his. children and sister, went to the metropolis, and I was left desolate. Four years elapsed before we met again; but though nothing is sooner erased from the memory of a child than past events, yet the remembrance of the companion who shared our infantine amusements seldom quits us through life; and so I found it with Agnes. Since we had parted, I had made great proficiency in learning; could write and draw with accuracy. Nor was I deficient in athletic exercises; young as I was, nothing gave me more delight than skimming through the liquid element, climbing the lofty mountain, or breaking through the thick mazes of the forest, The scenery in Paul and Virginia' raised a desire in my mind to imitate the former; and often have I ascended the highest tree, sitting for hours on its topmost branches, and gazing towards the road where I had last seen the equipage of Sir Edward disappear. We were now in our twelfth year; the Baronet was gone abroad, taking his son with him; and Agnes, with her aunt (who had married a gouty old Colonel), took up their abode at the castle. The Colonel was an Honourable,' but the very reverse of his lady or her brother; he was destitute of their pride, and I was frequently permitted to pass whole days at the castle, in reading to, and amusing him. In these pursuits Agnes was generally at my side, when the absence of her aunt allowed it; and I number some of those hours as the happiest in my

CORSICAN MANNERS.

BY ROBERT BENSON, M.A. F.L.S.

The men of Corsica are in general stout and well formed, rather under the middle size; their complexion is swarthy, their hair black, eyes sparkling; their countenances are more often expressive of ferocity than of those qualities that excite our immediate confidence. The women partake much of the character of their husbands. The traveller occasionally meets with handsome females, of very regular features, but they cannot be generally called so. They have, however, eyes of singular brightness; and long, black, glossy hair, hanging over a form little encumbered by artificial decorations. Their phisiognomy is bold, dignified, and even warlike; much more expressive of command than of submission. As if the human face adapted itself to the state of society, Corsican beauty harmonises well with the moral and physical condition of the island.

The dress of the Corsicans is very simple, and, in the interior, so uniform, that it affords scarcely any criterion by which to distinguish the rich from the poor. The men wear a short jacket, breeches, and long gaiters, made of a coarse chocolatecoloured cloth; their heads are covered in general by a very neat printed black velvet cap, or by a common coarse woven one of the same colour as the rest of the dress. Some of the peasantry have a sort of cowl, called a pelone, which they throw over their heads, or suffer to hang at the back of their necks. The men, with few exceptions, go armed; and you scarcely meet one in the interior, who has not a loaded musket across his sholders; the shot and ammunition are contained in a leathern pouch, called carchera,' which goes round his waist. A stiletto also is generally concealed about the person of a Corsican ; although the French have interdicted the use of that weapon. There are

few peculiarities to be remarked in the dress of the Corsican women. In the neighbourhood of Ajaccio, I frequently noticed them with large, round, straw hats, whilst their clothes consisted of little more than a shift, reaching hardly below their knees. The women of the Bastia side of the island, as I found after wards, scarcely wear any covering for the head, but content themselves with throwing over it a sort of veil, like the Italian peasantry.

The houses of the interior will not bear a comparison with the humblest cottages in England. They consist of four walls covered by a rude roof, many having only one opening, which serves for door, chimney, and window. They have not usually a second story; and when they have, you ascend to it by a ladder, as into an English hay-loft. The first thing that strikes the traveller, on entering one of the huts is an immense heap of chesnuts lying in one corner. These form the chief support of the hardy Corsicans. They are not eaten raw, but reduced into flour, the bread of which is termed 'pisticcine.' It is also formed into various dishes, called pulenta, brilloli, fritelle, frandoline, &c.

The houses contain stools, benches, and tables, of the rudest kind; the wood fire, when any fire is wanted, crackles in the centre of the room, the smoke issuing where it can; the huswife surrounded by her hardy offspring, attends to the humble domestic arrangements, while her lord and master traverses the mountains with his gun in search of game for his family. At night, a small stick of the pinus lariccio often serves as a lamp. This,' said a Corsican to me, as he pointed to a twig that was lying on the ground in the forest of Vizzavona, is one of our candles.' Such is the simple mode of living that generally pervades the whole interior of the island.

The Essayist.

THE BLACK BOOK,

Or, Chronicle of the Spinsters.

It is almost invariably the case with every maiden lady past the bloom of her days, that when asked why she did not marry, she will reply, "It was my own choice to remain single." Taking this for granted I have frequented felt astonished at the violent antipathy usually expressed by the unwedded portion of the female world, against the male population, and many speculations on this subject have only involved me in mazes of wonder and doubt, from which I never expected to be extricated. However, I have lately become a member of the society of spinsters, into which are admitted both young and old of the beau sexe, who can "shew cause" for desiring to unite themselves to it: each of the ladies who compose this august body is in arms against that monster man; a circumstance at which I now cease to marvel, since each has, more or less, received insult and provocation from him. One of the regulations of our society is, that each candidate for admission thereinto, shall afford some proof of her desire and ability to bring an odium upon the man; she is therefore required to write an epitome of her own history in a large volume, kept for that purpose; which volume is occasionally to be lent to each member, under a strict injunction to render its contents as public as possible; in default of obeying which injunction, she forfeits her place in the Society of Spinsters." For," say my respected sisters, "if we don't speak for ourselves, there's nobody will speak for us." The title of the volume in question is: "The Black Book, or Chronicle of the Spinsters," and truly it answers to its name; its very appearance is ominous, but not to be delineated by any pen inferior

to that of Sir Walter Scott: indeed, the "Wizard of the North" might at a first glance mistake our ponderous volume for a choice folio treatise on the Black Art, penned ere Faustus, Caxton, or Wynkyn de Worde proved printing to be the very quintessence of magical science; --so sable is its cover, and tattered and scratched ;-so huge is its fashion, so frightful its thickness; - so dun and rusty its brazen clasps; whilst its once gilded edges are worn to a foxy brown,-its yellow and stained leaves bear testimony to ample thumbings,-its ink, of different dates, is, some of a pale blue iron tint,-some of an ochrous hue, some of lightest brown,some of deepest black, whilst the vast variety of autographs that fill its interesting pages are as hard to be decyphered as Norman French, or Apothecary's Latin. This volume was forwarded to me the other evening, when not knowing exactly how best to fulfil the conditions to which I had subscribed, the idea struck me of sending a few excerpts_to some periodical work from "The Black Book," according to the motto of its title-page, "Pro bono Publico."

Rebecca Harley, aged 35, entered our society because "being at the age of 24 engaged to Francis Firebrain, Esq., the said Francis within a month of the period agreed on for his union with the said Rebecca, married another lady. Complainant has had three seekers since, for suitors she cannot cannot call them, who either suited not her, or whom she suited not. The first, having been informed that she was not a fortune,' precipitately retreated. The second, after many eulogiums upon thet treasure her mind, sought one more tangible, in a rich old widow, and has since avowed his pleasure at not having-MISS-taken: - and the third, upon the eve of their union, was killed in a duel, on another lady's account."

Susannah Stanley :—was from her childhood engaged to a gentleman, who after arranging the preliminaries of their marriage, found it essential to his happiness and health to travel. A frigid correspondence on his part, just served as the ground work of hope, and the return_of fidelity-on her's. For his sake, Miss Stanley rejected several advantageous offers;-after an absence of some years he returned privately married, but, for his sake, she still continues single, and probably will to her last hour.

Harriet Remington, aged 25; this young lady's campaign in the Fields of Love, is a romance of real life. At a very early age she, became madly enamoured with a youth, to whom, during the whole course of their acquaintance, she never spoke. The courtship was ingeniously carried on, in a style truly oriental, by flowers, and by those Joveliest ones of allthose very flowers of Love himself-Roses.Her Romeo, her Rose d' Amour, at length by a note, gave notice that he was equally attached to her, that after a short but unavoidable absence from the town wherein they resided, he intended to introduce himself to her parents, and carry off her fair self as his legal prize, and that they should ere long be-the happiest of the happy. He wentnever returned-and Miss Remington after having bewailed him bitterly as dead, for several months, saw, in one of the public prints, the announcement of his marriage with a lady in the North of England. This affair, thus honorably terminated, made a deeper impression upon her very youthful mind than she has ever been willing to allow, and although ten years have elapsed since this fatal event, memory and resentment still glow with ardour in her outraged bosom. Resentment, but, it is a singular fact, not against her ci-devant heartless admirer, but,

with the exception of himself, against his whole sex! Her desire has been vengeance, and amply has it, in many instances, been fulfilled; in short, such heart-rending deeds has she achieved, and so belligerent has she been rendered against man, that in case of the demise of our excellent Lady President, the vacant chair will indubitably be filled by Harriet Remington.

Eliza Graves, aged 28. Upon the day preceding that fixed for her marriage, the gentleman "called off," because, when the settlements were drawing up, he suddenly discovered that Eliza "had no fortune."- Six months afterwards he married a lady as penniless as herself!!

Katharine Warrington, aged 32. Waited an hour at the altar for her bridegroom, when a note from him informed her, "he had changed his mind."

66

Maria Smedley, aged 47. The admission of this lady into the Society of Spinsters" has been, for years, a subject of animated discnssion, and a topic upon which none of the members of the society can at all agree. At the age of thirty-three she gave her hand to a gentleman, who immediately after the performance of the nuptial ceremony, quitted the church without her, and has never since been heard of! Amongst us, she is still termed "The Bride," and it is understood that should her recusant spouse ever re-appear and claim her, she will present a handsome pecuniary endowment to the Society.

Emily Barrett, aged 29. The case of this young lady was hard. She was on the point of marriage with a most " eligible" man, had made many of her arrangements for the accasion, and invited a very dear female friend to officiate as a bride's-maid. This was about a week prior to the nuptials, which were prevented from being solemn

ized by an untoward event. The bridegroom and bride's-maid elect, eloped together ere they had been four days in each other's society, and those bonds were forged for them by the Burnie-win of Gretna, which were indissoluble.

Such are a few and but a very few specimens of the love of man. What then is that of woman? A something as faithful and steadfast, as it is divine; a something which is essentially a portion of herselfwhich is entwined with her religion, and intermingled with her heart's devotion: she beseeches the Supreme Being, to bless and preserve, for ever and ever, the object of her tenderness; she prays with tears, and and agony of spirit, that from him all evil should be averted; and fearing lest it should be in the counsels of the Most High, to snatch from the world her dearest treasure, she readily offers her own life as a substitute for his. Does he die?-She loves him still she feels that he "is not dead, but sleepeth,"-and entreats, with tears, to be allowed to follow him. Does he forsake her? She blesses, prays for, and loves him still, and ever attributes his conduct rather to demerit in herself, than to the perfidiousness of his nature; for, be he what he may, she will not endure to attach an idea of imperfection to him who once favored her with his affection. Such is woman's love,-delicateardent-holy--and steadfast! Will man pretend that such does not exist? It does, and in the bosoms of thousands too! Will he pretend that vacillating and unmanly conduct towards the tender and confiding sex, is an infirmity of his nature, which he cannot prevent? Let him learn then, that such weakness a woman would blush to own that such sin a Christian should tremble to commit; for if it hath been said "it must needs be that offences will come," and yet "WOE" at the