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In this state of enviable felicity he had passed some of the first years after his union with the partner of his love; they were all the world to each other; one heart,one wish, one desire, seemed to animate both their frames ; it was the wish to render each other happy, to promote each other's progress in virtue, and to train up their babes in the paths of religion and of moral rectitude. Their wants were few, and easily satisfied; the canker-worm of this world corroded not their peace :

« No jealously their dawn-of love o'ercast,
Nor blasted were their wedded days with strife ;
Each season look'd delightful, as it past,
To the fond husband, and the faithful wife.
Beyond the lowly vale of rural life
They never roam'd; secure beneath the storm,
Which in Ambition's lofty land is rife,
Where peace and love are canker'd by the worm

Of pride, each bud of joy industrious to deform." It was their aim to travel on together, hand in hand, thro' the pilgrimage of life, and then, to sink together into the place appointed for all the living: and this purpose they were endeavouring to effect by the exertions of industry. He had, for some years, rented a farm of nearly twenty acres of land, and had been able, 'till lately, by. incessant toil and the unremitting vigilance of economy, to earn the means of a scanty existence for himself, and for a numerous family. But now the pressure of the times was such, that he could not procure the means of existence, by all the efforts of uninterrupted bodily labour.

As for myself, said he, I should regard it all as nothing. I would work, from morn ’till night, to procure a morsel of dry bread, which I would eat in the evening, drink a draught of water from the spring, which flows yonder by that green bank on your left hand, muse upon the memory of my depart. ed wife, and lay me down to rest, in the full hope of one day meeting her again. But my little ones what is to become of them. It is not much that I want, but that little I cannot obtain by my own exertions. But no more of this ; follow me, and I will shew you some scenery that will please you.

Edward now followed his host to view the laird Robertson's grounds. For a time, Edward was absorbed in rapture, and experienced the pleasing delirium, occasioned by the indistinct and undefineable emotions, which swept with uncontroulable impetuosity athwart his imagination. The numberless torrents and cascades, and rifted rocks, and caverned dells, which Nature had flung with an abundant and a diversified hand, seemed altogether to shut out her younger sister art from any share in forming this exquisite, this unrivalled spot, save that she had allowed her to throw a rude, mishapen, wooden bridge over a tremendously deep gulph, whose abyss of waters was heard, but not seen to labour and toil along the broken masses of rock, ere they could win their impeded way along the rough course of their rugged bed. The mountains were side-clothed and tipped with birch and hazel, and mountain-ash, and fir and oak.

At appropriate distances, and in well-selected spots, were placed rural seats of turf, or of rudely hewn wood, from which Edward and his host surveyed the torrents, as they were tumbling, tier above tier, foaming and raging over the craggy cliffs, which were irregularly and fantastically disposed, and assumed such a vast variety of appearances and of shapes, as mocks all the puny efforts of language to enumerate or to describe. From these seats, also, they commanded an extensive range of view, in hill and dale, crowned with verdure and adorned with wood.

One large and deep resounding torrent came tumbling down the steep and almost perpendicular side of a rude rock ; the rest of the water-falls descended in the course of the rivers, which were two in number, and met in a most romantic spot. Here and there welled out a still, small, weeping rill; a soft and a soothing contrast to the deafening roar of the torrents.

On one of the seats, sheltered by over-hanging rocks, as they sate down to rest, and to be screened from the fierceness of the sun's melting beams, now glowing in their meridian strength, Edward said, that he was glad to find, that Dr. Currie's very excellent edition of Burns' works was, by its rapid and extensive sale, likely to procure a comfortable and

a permanent provision for the widow and the children of the Scottish bard. At this, the host turned round to Edward, and with a tearful eye and a faltering voice, answered, -Will a thousand times ten thousand pounds ever bring back Burns to the suffering and afflicted widow? Will money be in the place of a husband to her? I lately lost my wife, the mother of seven bairns, and would now freely and cheerfully give the duke of Athol's estate to possess the happiness, which I experienced with that excellent woman but a year since. I would willingly devote myself to a life of irredeemable slavery, if I could only have her sitting by my side, as she, this day, two years ago, sate upon this seat with me.

(To be continued.)

THIRD SECTION.

AMERICAN LITERATURE REVIEWED.

NATURE DISPLAYED, &c.

BY N. G. DUFIEF.

M. :

(Continued from Vol. 2. No. 5. page 295.) DUFIEF fairly overwhelms us with his erudition

in the following sentences about the abuse of words: Locke on the abuse of words, Helvetius on the same sub ject, and Condillac, in particular, in his Traité des Systemes, will convince the doubtful, that apparently trifling deviations from the real meaning of words have given rise to the greatest errors, and to those false systems of philosophy, as, for centuries past, have involved the human mind in darkness, and still, unhappily, lead astray their short-sighted votaries.'

It were a consummation devoutly to be wished, that N. G. Dufief, himself, had paid some little attention to the study of the abuse of words, before the world had seen his Nature Nisplayed; for it would have saved us many an hour of the most painful drudgery, which we have ever endured.

Pray did M. Dufief's—-"intimate knowledge of the genius and analogy of the English language,”-enable him to write such poor, bald, miserable stuff as this," those false systems of philosophy as”-(anglicè which)—“ for centuries past, have involved, &c.”

The conclusion of this preliminary discourse is in full accordance with all the preceding parts, and exemplifies the delicate and the dignified modesty of N. G. Dufief in the most satisfactory manner.

“ Learning French by the shortest method possible, is not the only advantage derived from the method of Nature. It also facilitates the acquisition of every other language, by the establishment of an universal mode ; and often renovates the memory, by exercising in a simple, yet subtle"—(N. B.

simplicity and subtlety are altogether incompatible with each other)—“ manner that noble faculty of the mind, while the judgment is improved and invigorated by a method founded on analogy and analysis, our unerring guides in the art of thinking.

We are then, favoured with a note, in which we are told, that memory is a very good thing !-who ever doubted it ?-that the Greeks called the Muses the daughters of memory; that Bacon, Moliere, Shakspeare, and Garrick, found the benefit of exercising their memory; that Lord Erkine and Messrs. Gibbs and Garrow have good memories ; and that Demosthenes transcribed Thucydides eight times ! &c. &c.

We are, indeed, thankful, that we have, at length, gotten to the end of this preliminary discourse, and, doubtless, we shall receive the cordial gratulations of every humane and compassionate reader, who will be induced to say, with us

O che bel Riposo ! Our labour, however, is not yet at an end; for N. G. Dufief, now advances upon us with a chapter, which bears this formidable title,

“The Logic of Facts unanswerable.” This chapter, which begins with an absurd sentence, and a still more absurd note, is stuffed with the names of a great number of ladies and gentlemen, who have been made marvellous proficients in the French language by N. G. Dufief's method of instruction; some of these are,

“ Ladies --Mesdemoiselles-Nicklin, Vatland, Philips, Shoemaker, &c. &c.”—“ Gentlemen,-Messieurs,-Smith, Hepburn, Fricke, &c. &c.”

For the peculiar edification of M. Dufief, we take leave to present him with the following list of some of the company, who, as we are informed by the New Bath Guide, were present at a great public breakfast, given by the Lord Ragamuffin:

“ There was Lady Grease wrister,
And Madame Van-Twister,
Her ladyship's sister.
Lord Cram and Lord Vulter,
Sir Brandish O'Culter,

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