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BARCAROLLA.-The Barcarolla is a kind of song in the Venetian language, Isung at Venice by the gondoliers, or watermen, in their boats or barks. Rousseau mentions, "that these airs are composed for the common people, and not unfrequently by the gondolieri themselves. They contain so much melody, and such an agreeable accent, that there is not a musician in all Italy who does not pique himself on knowing some of them. The being admitted gratis into a gallery appropriated to them in all the theatres, enables the gondolieri to form their ear and taste, without trouble or expence, so that they compose and sing their airs, without altering their natural simplicity, in the style and expression of persons not ignorant of the refinements of music. The words of these songs generally partake of the nature of the conversation of those who sing them; and all who are pleased by the true picture of the manners of a people, and partial to the Venetian dialect, soon become passionately fond both of the words and music of these airs, principally known in England by the title of Venetian ballads." "We must not forget (adds Rousseau) to remark, for the glory of Tasso, that most of the gondolieri know the chief part of his poem "Gierusalemme Liberata" by heart, and some the whole; that they pass their summer nights in their gondolas, singing it alternately from bark to bark; that the poem of Tasso is an admirable barcarolla, and that Homer alone has had the honour of being thus sung, before him; and that since his time no other epic poem has been thus distinguished. The Earl of Leicester, one of the subscribers to the Royal Academy of Music in 1720, used to say, that at the first establishment of operas in England, the nobility and gentry, in imitation of the Venetians, suffered their servants to have admission gratis, into the upper gallery, with a view to improve the national taste in singing; but, instead of profiting or deriving pleasure from this privilege, they became so noisy and insolent, that a stop was put to their admission, and, like our first parents, they were driven out of Paradise.

two silver hearts were found upon him. He was dragged before the magistrate, imprisoned, tried, and doomed to death, as a sacrilegious robber. In the course of his trial, he constantly denied his having committed a theft, but that the Virgin herself, in pity to his sufferings, had ordered him to take the above offerings. The sentence with the prisoner's defence, was, as usual, laid before the king. His majesty conversed with several of the Popish divines, asking them whether such a miracle was possible, according to the tenets of their religion. They unanimously answered, that the case was very extraordinary, but not absolutely impossible; upon which the king wrote in his own hand the following words.

"The culprit cannot be put to death, because he positively denies the charge, and that the divines of his religion declare that the miracle wrought in his favour is not impossible, but we strictly forbid him under pain of death, from receiving any more presents from the Virgin Mary, or any saint whatsoever.

(Signed) FREDERICK " MARCH OF INTELLECT. -"Good morning to you, my young friend," said a lady to a little boy about nine years old, whom she met on his way to school for the first time after the

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Christmas holidays; are you not sorry," continued the lady, "that the holidays are over?"—"Why, no, madam, I really am not," responded the little gentleman, with much sang-froid, "for," added he, "I have had a tolerable run of gaiety, and now that my duty calls me back to my studies, being aware of the necessity of education and so forth, I resume them without any feeling of repugnance. "Not," continued the young gentleman, "that I would have you believe, however, my invitations are exhausted, for I assure you, that is by no means the case, as I have now two in my hand, and twenty at home; but," added the little hero with great importance, "I like to disappoint!"

MARRIAGE ALAMODE. Tom, you should take a wife.'-' Now, love forbid !'

'I found you one last night '-' The deuce you did!

JUDICIOUS SENTENCE OF THE KING'Softly, perhaps she'll please you.'-' Oh, of

OF PRUSSIA. A soldier in the garrison of a small town of Prussian Silesia, being suspected of making free with the ex volo, or offerings, made by the pious Roman Catholics, to a celebrated image of the wonder working Virgin; he was watched, and upon his being searched,

course!'

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Varieties.

LITERARY, Scientific, anD HUMOROUS. Man's heart is a microcosm, the actors in which are the passions, as varied as opposed, as shaded one into the other, as we see the characters of men in the great scene of the world.

There are those hypocritical villains in the world who, if they sometimes lose a good opportunity by want of conversational powers, often catch many a gull by their gravity, and escape many an error into which a talkative rascal is sure to fall by his very volubility.

Man, unlike the insect, begins his being as a butterfly, which he generally ends as a chrysalis. Amusement, or, as it should be called, excitement, is every thing at 19; and the butterfly, though it destroys not like the worm, nor hoards like the bee, still flies to every leaf that meets its sight, if it be

but for the sake of the flutter.

The love of adventure is a sort of mental spirit drinking, as hard to be overcome as the passion for strong waters itself.

Nothing is more difficult to find in any man than the faculty of being convinced.

Dauncey, one of the sons-in-law of Lord Chancellor More, once alleged that even the door-keeper of the Court of Chancery got great gains, and was so perverted by the venalty there practised, that he ventured to expostulate with Sir Thomas for his churlish integrity. The Chancellor said in reply, that "if his father, whom he reverenced dearly, were on the one side, and the devil, whom he hated with all his might, on the other, the devil should have his right!"

THE BITER BIT.-A celebrated punster, on lately entering Staple Inn, Holborn, and observing on a board the words, "No horses admitted within this Inn," enquired of the porter if the The wag exception extended to asses. wittily replied, "No-you may pass

on

Nadir Shah, when encouraging the Persians to attack the Turks, said, "You need not have any fear or anxiety respecting this nation, for God has given them but two hands, one of which is absolutely necessary to keep on their caps, and the other to hold up their trowsers; and if they had a third, it would be employed to hold their pipes; they have therefore none to spare for a sword or shield."

SPINSTERS.-Amongst our industrious and frugal forefathers, it was a maxim that a young woman should never be married until she had spun herself a set of body, table, and bed linen. From this custom all unmarried women were termed spinsters ; an appellation they still retain in all law proceedings.

HABERDASHERS.-In antiquity, formerly in England, berdash was a name given to a certain kind of neck dress; and hence a person who made or sold such neckcloths was called a berdasher, from which is derived our word haber

dasher.

Lately a daughter of Bacchus, well stricken in years, called at a spiritdealer's shop in Haddington, and drawing a well-worn Bible from under her cloak, presented it to the shopkeeper, and requested

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66 a dram for't!" He advised her to take it home and peruse it; but the woman replied, Ah, sir, it's o' nae use to me noo, for I gi'ed awa' my spacticles for a wee drap the ither day, an' I canna see to read ony mair!"

No feeling is more consistently inconsistent than cowardice. Children shut their eyes in the dark to avoid seeing ghosts.

The manner wherewith a thing is said, more than the thing itself, has often the power to let us into the dark council-chamber of man's bosom, and shew us the motives which govern his actions.

There is a latent moral in every look of Nature's face, which, did man but study it, would prove a great corrector of the heart.

Queen Elizabeth's notions of machinery were not exactly those of the present day. When Lee, the inventor of the stocking-frame, came to London with the view of obtaining her Majesty's patronage, though supported by many persons of influence about the Court, the queen refused to aid him either by a grant of money or of a patent, adding as her reason, "I have too much love for my poor people who obtain their bread by the employment of knitting, to give my money to forward an invention which will tend to their ruin, and thus make them beggars.'

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EPIGRAM.

Poor Bella and I were last night at a rout,
All gaily she look'd, as if death she defied;
In the morn she was lifeless-her case who
can doubt?

She dreamed St. John Long was her doctor, and died!

FOREIGN FORGETFULNESS.-An Italian gentleman went one morning lately to call upon a lady, with whom he had become recently acquainted, living in apartments at the west end of the town; but it so chanced, that when he arrived at the house, and the servant had opened the door, and was waiting for the demand usually put by morning visitors, Is Mrs. at home," that the lady's name had vanished from his memory; slightly confused at the circumstance, he twice repeated," Is Mistress is Mistress -- ," but finding he could not recal the name to mind, added, "Is Mistress, First Floor at hoine."

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ENGLISH NOTION OF CORRECT PRONUNCIATION. A Portuguese gentleman, who had been many years a resident in England, and had acquired a perfect knowledge of the language, though still retaining a strong foreign accent, went one afternoon to visit a gentleman living a short distance from town, but being unable to find out his friend's house, he enquired of a nice rosy-faced girl, whom he saw standing at a cottage door, if she could tell him where Mr. resided? The girl answered in the negative, but dropping a curtsy, said, "she dare say her mother could tell, as she washed for almost all the gentle

folks in the neighbourhood." "Well then, my pretty maiden, will you be so kind as to go and ask your mother?" said the gentleman. "Oh yes, sir, directly," replied the damsel, and away she tripped into the cottage, apparently anxious to hide a fit of laughter, with which, to the astonishment of the Portuguese, she seemed suddenly seized; in the course, however, of a few minutes, came forth the good dame of the cottage herself, wiping the suds from her arms, and evidently having only just sufficiently recovered from the effects of a fit of risibility, to demand with becoming civility the gentleman's pleasure. The Portuguese apologizing for the trouble he gave, said, he simply wished to ask if she could direct him to the house of Mr. Here the poor woman's gravity seemed nearly all put to flight; but, however, she contrived, after indulging a gentle titter, to say it was no trouble to her, and directed him as well as she could to his friend's residence; then curtsying very low, and simpering and blushing, said, "I beg pardon, sir, and hope you will excuse me and my daughter's laughing, but as you are from foreign parts, I see you do not know that we call it ax in our country, not ask."

Diary and Chronology.

Wednesday, March 14.

SEED TIME.-The copious rains of February, with which the soil has in most seasons been drenched, though well adapted for making the roots of perennial plants send forth shoots, would be unfavourable, if continued, for the germination of seeds which require to be moist, but not soaked, in order to spring well. It is this which renders dry weather at this season so valuable, and which gave rise to the proverb, that "a bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom."

Thursday, March 15.

Sun rises 7m, aft. 6-Sets 50m, aft. 5.
Friday, March 16.

Full Moon, 22 min. after 3 aft. MIGRATORY BIRDS.-The earliest migratory bird which has been observed to arrive in spring, is the chiff-chaff (sylvia hypolais), which may be heard in every patch or copse of wood near London during this month, repeating its monotonous chaunt, as if it were calling its more tardy companions to hasten their migrative journies. Though there is certainly little music in its unvaried note, yet, from its association with the blowing of the primrose, 'the violet, and other early flowers, it becomes little less pleasing than the similar monotony of the cuckoo, inseparably associated with blossomed hawthorns, or the loud call of the Wry

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A few complete sets in Vols and Parts may now be had.

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Ellustrated Article.

LAUTREC THE PAINTER;
A PROVENÇAL LEGEND.
For the Olio,

"When haughty guilt exults with impious joy,
Mistake shall blast or accident destroy :
Weak man, with erring rage, may throw the dart,
But Heaven shall guide it to the guilty heart!"

If nature had given to Count Laurent Chevillion a rough and unprepossessing exterior, she had, at the same time, moulded his disposition to fit it for a form which it was impossible to believe could belong to an amiable or virtuous being. His stature was large and commanding; his legs muscular, but ill-shaped; his chest ample; and the lineaments of his countenance, at least such as were visible through a thick beard and moustachios of raven blackness, at once forbidding and repulsive. His disposition was sullen, morose and sanguinary, and but few of his neighbours ventured to be upon VOL. IX.

See p. 196

terms of intimacy with him. His conduct towards his dependants was arbitrary and cruel; to offend him was to provoke inevitable destruction, and only the most reckless and desperate were to be found among his household.

Chevillion was, in fact, the most unamiable noble in all Provence, and happy it was for those who lived near his estate that his time was chiefly occupied in the chase-a recreation he seemed to prefer to all others. If, how ever, there was one being who could mollify the heart of the fierce Count, it was his daughter, his only child,-as fair a maid as ever formed the subject of the countless lays for which her country has been so famed. But the beauty of the Lady Isaura was not her only attraction; as if to perfect the contrast, her disposition was as gentle and amiable as her father's was harsh and cruel, and it was a matter of astonishment to all that a being so mild and good could be the daughter of one of such opposite qualities. Carefully

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watched by the jealous eye of her father, who had been left a widower upwards of five years, and who doated on his child, though he appeared to sympathise with no other earthly being, the Lady Isaura rarely left the chateau, and when she did quit it for a time, it was always in company with her stern parent. A circumstance, however, occurred that tended to relieve the monotonous life she was leading. It chanced that as the Count was one day abroad on a hunting excursion, he met, in one of the romantic dells on his estate, with a young artist, who was so busily en gaged in making a sketch of the surrounding scenery, that he did not observe the approach of the Count, until Chevillion rode up to the spot where he sat. Startled at his unlooked-for appearance, and taking his visitor for a person of title, the young man sprung to his feet, and saluted the Count with a profound obeisance. The haughty noble returned the salute, and enquired the name of the young artist.

"My name,' ," said the youth," is Lautrec du Biez; Geneva is my native city, but I longed to see the land of which so much has been said and sung in times gone by."

"You are a cunning limner," observed the Count, looking at the sketch in progress. "Have you much skill in portraiture? I would shew thee a fair subject for thy pencil at my chateau which thou see'st yonder."

"You may command me, my lord," replied the artist," and I will do my poor endeavour to please you; but I must to Avignon to-night-to-morrow I shall be proud to wait on you."

"Be it so, then," said the Count, turning his horse's head, "I shall expect you by mid-day."

The youth bowed, and Chevillion, with a grim smile, which he intended should be conciliating, rode off to join his attendants, who were waiting at some distance, leaving the young artist overjoyed at the prospect of a lucrative engagement with, and the patronage of, a man of such consequence.

At noon on the following day, Lautrec arrived at the chateau, a gloomy structure, erected in the twelfth century, but repaired and modernized in after ages. Its base was washed by the rapid waters of the Rhone, and a deep fosse surrounded the whole building, which was partly covered by ivy, the growth of many years. The young painter paused for a moment on the drawbridge, to indulge his love of the picturesque,

and then entered by the large gothic gate, in which the huge portcullis grinned like a row of gigantic teeth.

"Ah me!" sighed the youth, as he reached the court-yard, in which little was seen to attract the attention of the visitor, "the days of song and romance are gone, and in this dull chateau, which perhaps once echoed to the strains of Brulez or Jacques de Chison, naught now is heard but the blast of its lord's hunting-horn !"

"And what then!" said a voice near him, "wouldst thou quarrel with that, Monsieur ?"

Lautrec turned quickly round, and beheld a square-built man, whose physiognomy was the very reverse of prepossessing. His swarthy complexion, hooked nose, and coarse features, added to a disagreeable squint, gave to his countenance a most sinister expression. The painter at first recoiled from this ominous looking personage, who was no other than the Count's huntsman, Gaubert; but, judging it prudent to dissemble a little, though he could ill conceal the disgust he felt, he enquired for the Count.

"You will find him in the second chamber of that tower," said Gaubert; "he bade me send you thither."

Lautrec was about to proceed there, when the huntsman, seizing his arm in a familiar manner, continued

"Harkee, Monsieur, no talking of Trouvères and love ditties-my master likes them not; our music, as thou saidest but now, is of a rougher fashion."

He was proceeding in the same strain when Lautrec, disengaging his arm, bounded across the court-yard, and ascended the stairs of the turret to which the huntsman had pointed.Here he found the Count sitting in a large high-backed arm-chair, and playing with a hawk which was perched on his hand.

"You are punctual," said Chevillion, "I love the man who respects the time of others. Beshrew me, you are firmly set, and would make a proper man-at

arms.

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The Count spoke truly, Lautrec was indeed a comely figure; his height exceeded that of most men, and his broad, though well made, shoulders attested his great bodily strength; yet such was the symmetry of his frame, that the most scrupulous could not characterize it as rough or clownish; whilst his countenance, expressive of frankness and good temper, had in it a slight dash

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