1 towards what is excellent. There is something more than bare truth by which men are to be affected. A stimulant must be applied to the mind as well as the body. We must contemplate ideal goodness, if we avoid retrograding. We must follow a route, trackless as the eagle's, and, rising above a real, keep hope alive by contemplating an invisible, creation. The reign of poetry and romance, is one of a spirit engendering enthusiasm and inspiration, the quality that makes a hero of a soldier, an artist of a mechanic, and a martyr of a saint. It cannot be enjoyed without a temporary abstraction from what is around us, but must rise above the impure and tainted atmosphere of common life. The air-woven delicate visions of poe. tical inspiration, will not appear in the clouded, foggy, dense climate of every-day routine; they must float in 66 gaily gilded trim," beneath unclouded skies, and in the full glory of the sun-beam, in fields of ether, and amid the rich hues of the rainbow. But for scenes of imagination, those cities of refuge to which the mind may fly now and then from the toil, dulness, and weary repetitions of morning, noon, and night, and night, noon, and morning, what care-worn wretches should we be! So far from valuing works of fancy less as we advance in civilization, we shall love them more, because we fly to them with more enjoyment from the fatigue of professional pursuits, and the right-angle formalities of daily avocations, which multiply around us, as luxury increases our wants. No; let the author of Waverley write on; let poets pour forth their strains; let the Radcliffes of the time lead us into the horrors of romance, and let the empire of magination live for ever! Let the plodding lawyer worship his fee, confound right and wrong, and entangle his clients as he may, scoffing at the splendours of fiction. Let the physician look wise and considerate, and shake his head, while his patient suffers nothing but "consumption of purse." Let the merchant traffic, and the tradesman truck: let the jew cheat, and the attorney inveigle let earthquake and plague devastate: let man be cruel and oppressive to fellow-man, sell his blood and muscle, or butcher him in war for the sake of a hogshead of sugar, a roll of tobacco, or the dreamy right of some king divine to "govern wrong:" let dulness and impudence prosper, and merit remain in obscurity: let ignorance and incapacity fill the seat of justice, while common sense is pilloried: let all these things be daily, and go their round-about as matterof course-whither can we turn from them? Where can we go aside from observing them with repulsion and disgust, but to the empire of imagination? Sickened with such objects as constitute the greater part of our realities, we may meditate on forms of female beauty like the Juliet of Shakspeare, or the Rebecca of Ivanhoe, we may solace ourselves with "mask and antique pageantry," and "Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream:"— with the deeds of Roncesvalles, or of British Arthur, or "Call up him that left half told And who had Canace to wife;"→ we may visit scenes and beings of a purer world than our own; and when forced to return to every-day things, return to them with renovated spirits, and the hope that the delightful creations in which we have been revelling, may at some future time be realized to our senses; if not in this world, in another. Y. LETTERS FROM MISS FLIRTILLA TO MISS PRUDENTIA. It seems requisite, before the reader enters upon the following correspondence, to remind him of our having, on a previous occasion, remarked how much the introduction of French frivolities into the manners of the Scottish fair is at variance with their customary habits and deportment, and how much we doubted that the pretended improvement would be ultimately and generally beneficial. We shall now leave him to draw his own conclusions from this part of a correspondence betwixt two amiable young ladies of different characters, united by the bonds of friendship, and only separated by circumstances : namely, the former's being on her travels in order to give the last polishing touch to her person and education, whilst the companion of her early youth was doomed, from a more limited income, to remain at home-discreet, sedate, and contented with her lot. Now to the letters. LETTER I. DEAR PRUDENTIA, Paris. IT has been with much difficulty that I refrained from writing to you sooner, for a number of interesting things took place on my road here; but you know Ma's old-fashioned economical way: she has forgotten the first impulses of the heart, and calculates the postage of a letter; so she insisted on my not putting you to this expense until I arrived in Paris, and even now wants me to wait for Mr. Ballantyne, who thinks of visiting your cold and smoky capital in three weeks. "C'est un eternité pour l'amour," As somebody says (but this somebody must not be brought in before the proper time and place); so you see, my dear girl, I stole out by myself, without fear of being run away with by the light and volage chevaliers Français, and went personally, whilst Ma was in the arms of Morpheus, and put this (my letter) in the Grande Poste, in the Rue Jean Jaques Rosseau, and I was followed and looked at by legions of admirers; aye, my love, and some of these gay youths were of the Legion of Honour too! what say you to that? Entre nous, how a little bit of red ribbon does give a finish to a gentleman's dress, just peeping out of his 'button-hole, like a grandee in cog: the black stock, bushy hair, rakishly worn hat, and a thousand sweet et cæteras, not forgetting what I call game-spurs, and high-heeled boots. And now, my dear Prudentia, I am so bewildered with delight at every thing in this dear, dissipated metropolis, that I don't know where to begin. First, the Thuilleries are splendid,-the entrance to Paris is magnificent,-the Column grand,— the Opera enchanting,-the Feydean captivating,— the attentions of the men overpowering, and their manners divine! I should have been ruined if I had not learned waltzes and quadrilles before I came here: I might have been accounted a rustic amongst rustics, an uneducated amongst the vulgar; but you advised me never to waltz with a foreigner, who, between you and I, are the only people worth waltzing with. Such murmuring of vows and oaths as we whirl round together; such humble yet warm attentions, so much mischief done with the eye, and such elegant exertions to set off a partner to the best advantage. Who would dance with a Scotch loon after these, a rough animal who handles you as he would the reins of a coachhorse, merely to give himself exercise and to get you on? French women are not driven thus, and why should we be so? They are gently led in wreaths of flowers and vive! The rosy wreath say I? But my poor little head is straying, and you must not chide me for it. They who have not drank of the cup of pleasure know not its bewitching effect. I dare say, notwithstanding, that a sober cup of tea would satisfy my dear Prudentia just as well: however, I must try and convert you, and bring you over here by hook or by crook. A propos, I have already named you to the very cream of elegance, the pearl of perfection; a gallant young lancer of twenty-two years of age, with one of those faces which you meet with in a picture gallery, with berry-black whiskers, and chintuft à la Henri Quartere, an eye like an eagle, and a high forehead of polished marble, a lofty air, seducing smile, and covered with military decorations. He evinced much interest to see you. How romantic! To see my friend, he observed, would be like seeing |