used to caterwauling, upon slippery house-top. Hil- | about? And upon what reasonable excuse should we locks will I exorcise and put down within three leagues, indulge in those fastings wherein our souls delight, at my first leisure. I would rather meet a mountain and which our bodies abominate, but for the peccadillo than a molehill. Quære? you will say. Truly, then, occasional, abrupt, involuntary, or medio-venial? I reyour mountain is visible, and not a matter to be stum-member me once, therefore, when mine host was bled over. But for your molehill-ugh! 'tis a danger-drowsy, and nodding over his empty cup, (which, heaous engine of the blind enemy, the beast that burrows, ven help me, I had reduced to that forlorn situation furto an inoffensive man who is portly. Good Lord!tively,) he avoided travelling bedward, fearing some How merrily did I awaken the tipsy echoes of the cel-amorous bussings 'twixt me and his beloved-for there lar from the womb of that sweet vat. (He singeth.) was no guest on the hearth stone, bating myself. I, noting this, enlarged upon my pitiable case, and proved, by the evidence of action, the impossibility of reaching a wall with my lips, against which my promontory shot out; and away went mine host contented to his rug and pillow. Mine hostess laughed, for women are wicked, and their ways are naught, and they doat on these roguish quips and pranks; and the moment he was gone, we conjointly essayed to kiss. Truly we succeeded, to mine infinite wonder and amaze; for behold, I and mine host had not reckoned on the difference 'twixt a wall perpendicular and devoid of amorous inclinations, and the flexible form of a warm and pliant wench intent upon a frolic. She coiled, did she Heigh! Daffydowndillo! The Friar of Dillow I will be found in the marsh again; for the Shrieve, as I noted, hath yet another and a stouter vat of wine.—and stood a tiptoe-and laughed—and my icy re solves were thawed, and I waxed warm, and petitioned for a second sisterly greeting! "Shall I give him another?" hallooed she to her liege marital in the bed above, who, thinking she spoke of a flaggon of wine, roared in reply, "Aye-aye," and the greeting, with much stifled laughter, was accorded me. And a third and fourth obtained I, with the same interrogatory and consent; until, at length, after the thirteenth, the mortified and sleepy host, at the tail of his " Aye-aye," -cried "Give the holy friar as many as he can carry." From that time we reckoned without our host. But this was all in pure waggery on her part, and mere indulgence of that spirit of innocent wickedness wherein women delight; for I will maintain that host there is virtue in no woman; for, when I demanded a nineteenth with more warmth than became me it may be, she coolly put me aside, and bade me hasten home and quench my face in cold water, and sip a pipkin of Is fat a symbol of folly? An' it be, Thomas, thou art, bating one, the biggest lackwit within the green circumbelt of the English seas; and that one is the Lord Abbot-I hope to outgrow him yet, but I have been stunted hitherto.—Is fat a symbol of folly? Notess to be a paragon-that if there is no virtue in her, so, Goodman Pottlebrain. What sayth the woodman of the portly buck? Naturally, that the beast is a buck of wisdom, and provident and witty beyond his fellows; or how came he fatter than they?-Respond, thou man of lath? Canst thou blow down that argu-oat-broth, and say my prayers, and lay me down on the ment by thy puny breath ?—Never!—I will lie on my cold flags of my dormitory. Moreover than this, proback, and moralize on my belly. It surpasses the force montory of mine own especial creation, thou affordest and extent of my arithmetic to count up the head of a cushion, whereon to repose the arms, when thy bearer good venison that have been folded in this pen. I will is devout; and besides this-but by the Lord, belly, maintain that a round paunch is productive of good—thou achest horribly in this position, and I will postit amounts to a mortification of the flesh. Presuming, pone my discourse upon thee until some better occanow, that I were earnal, (and it would be horrible pre- sion. (He riseth with sore travail.) I know not how sumption personally so to presume, and heresy direct it is, but when a man begins to grow bulky, fat is against the church general,) but presuming so, could I thrust upon him with most oppressive celerity. A small kiss the mulberry lip of my pulpy hostess of Dillow-belly attracts into it more flesh, as doth a young muckbating she were forward and sinful as myself? Not heap more muck. I remember me, when my nose I; for lo! my paunch interferes; and, were she carnal- was just shooting forth and blushing at the extreme ly to assault me, is it not a barricado against her in-point like a young rose, then did my stomach first bud; roads-unless I be (which St. Botolph prevent) of and long 'ere the first was full blown, the latter had equal cupidity with herself? I repose me in safety behind this hillock. I defy them—the women all-I do. I remember me once though, for flesh is weak, and if we sinned not upon occasion, what should we have to repent of, and pray for, and mortify ourselves reached its present girth and consequent celebrity. I will race with Hupert Hackson, or the swiftest he in Dillow, so that the starting post be at the brink, and the goal at the foot of a smooth hill. I will lay me down, and by mere indolent rolling, outstrip him— office look to it, and bury me where the fiery lava from my monumental crater, shall depopulate no town. Let them look to it, I say. What sound was that?-The 'voice of the refectory bell-your dinner-bell, methinks, yields most excellent music, I will attend its ghostly making no effort, but vanquishing him by mere ro- J. C. RETRENCHMENT. A TALE OF OTHER CLIMES, BUT SUITABLE TO PRESENT TIMES. sent day, I cannot conceive. I seldom dine out for fear of being poisoned. Depend upon it, a good cook lengthens your days, and no price is too great to ensure one." Cur your coat according to your cloth, is an old | people can live upon the English cookery of the premaxim and a wise one; and if people will only square their ideas according to their circumstances, how much happier might we all be! If we only would come down a peg or two in our notions, in accordance with our waning fortunes, happiness would be always within our reach. It is not what we have, or what we have not, which adds or subtracts from our felicity. It is the longing for more than we have, the envying of those who possess that more, and the wish to appear in the world of more consequence than we really are, which destroy our peace of mind, and eventually lead to ruin. I never witnessed a man submitting to circumstances with good humour and good sense, so remarkably as in my friend Alexander Willemott. When I first met him, since our school days, it was at the close of the war: he had been a large contractor with government for army clothing and accoutrements, and was said to have realized an immense fortune, although his accounts were not yet settled. Indeed, it was said that they were so vast, that it would employ the time of six clerks, for two years, to examine them, previous to the balance-sheet being struck. As I observed, he had been at school with me, and, on my return from the East Indies, I called upon him to renew our old acquaintance, and congratulate him upon his success. "My dear Reynolds, I am delighted to see you, You must come down to Belem Castle; Mrs. Willemott will receive yon with pleasure, I'm sure. You shall see my two girls." When the ladies retired, being alone, we entered into friendly conversation. I expressed my admiration of his daughters, who certainly were very handsome and elegant girls. Very true; they are more than passable," replied he. "We have had many offers, but not such as to come up to my expectations. Baronets are cheap now-adays, and Irish lords are nothings; I hope to settle them comfortably. We shall see. Try this clareti you'll find it excellent, not a headache in a hogshead of it. How people can drink port, I cannot imagine." The next morning he proposed that I should rattle round the park with him. I acceded, and we set off in a handsome open carriage, with four grays, ridden by postillions at a rapid pace. As we were whirling along, he observed, "In town we must of course drive but a pair, but in the country I never go out without four horses. There is a spring in four horses which is delightful; it makes your spirits elastic, and you feel that the poor animals are not at hard labour. Rather than not drive four I would prefer to stay at home." Our ride was very pleasant, and, in such amusements, passed away one of the most pleasant weeks that I ever remembered. Willemott was not the least altered-he was as friendly, as sincere, as open-hearted, as when a boy at school. I left him, pleased with his prosperity, and acknowledging that he was well deserving of it, although his ideas had assumed such a scale of magnificence. I consented. The chaise stopped at a splendid mansion, and I was ushered in by a crowd of liveried servants. Every thing was on the most sumptuous and magnificent scale. Having paid my respects to the lady of the house, I retired to dress, as dinner was nearly ready, it being then half-past seven o'clock. It was eight before we sat down. To an observation that I made, expressing a hope that I had not occasioned the dinner being put off, Willemott replied, "on the contrary, my dear Reynolds, we never sit down until about this hour. How people can dine at four or five o'clock, I cannot conceive. I could not touch a mouth-items bad been struck out of his balance-sheet, and,'inful." I went to India when my leave expired, and was absent about four years. On my return, I inquired-after my friend Willemott, and was told that his eircumstances and expectations had been greatly altered. From many causes, such as a change in the government, a demand for economy, and the wording of his contracts, having been differently rendered from what Willemott had supposed their meaning to be, large stead of being a millionaire, he was now a gentleman The dinner was excellent, and I paid it the enco- with a handsome property. Belem Castle had been miums which were its due. sold, and he now lived at Richmond, as hospitable as ever, and was considered a great addition to the You neighbourhood. I took the earliest opportunity of go. Howling down to see him. Oh, my dear Reynolds, this "Do not be afraid, my dear fellow-my cook is an artiste extraordinaire-a regular Cordon Bleu. may eat any thing without fear of indigestion. is really kind of you to come without invitation. Your | band. Mary is also engaged to be married-a very room is ready, and bed well aired, for it was slept in good match-a Mr. Rivers, in the law. He has been three nights ago. Come-Mrs. Willemott will be de- called to the bar this year, and promises well. They lighted to see you." will be a little pinched at first, but we must see what we can do for them." I found the girls still unmarried, but they were yet young. The whole family appeared as contented, and happy, and as friendly, as before. We sat down to dinner at six o'clock; the footman and the coachman attended. The dinner was good, but not by the artiste extraordinaire. I praised every thing. "Yes," replied he, "she is a very good cook; she unites the solidity of the English, with the delicacy of the French fare, and, altogether, I think it a decided improvement. Jane is quite a treasure." After dinner he observed, "Of course you know I have sold Belem Castle, and reduced my establishment? Government have not treated me fairly, but I am at the mercy of commissioners; and a body of men will do that, which, as individuals, they would be ashamed of The fact is, the odium is borne by no one in particular, and it is only the sense of shame which keeps us honest, I'm afraid. However, here you see me, with a comfortable fortune, and always happy to see my friends, especially my old schoolfellow. Will you take port or claret. The port is very fine, and so is the claret. By-the-by, do you know-I'll let you into a family secret; Louisa is to be married to a Colonel Willer an excellent match. It has made us all happy." The next day we drove out, not in an open carriage as before, but in a chariot and with a pair of horses. "These are handsome horses," observed I. "Yes," replied he, "I am fond of good horses; and, as I only keep a pair, I have the best. There is a certain degree of pretension in four horses, I do not much like it appears as if you wished to overtop your neighbours." I spent a few very pleasant days, and then quitted his hospitable roof. A severe cold, caught that winter, induced me to take the advice of the physicians, and proceed to the south of France, where I remained two years. On my return, I was informed that Willemott had speculated, and had been unlucky on the Stock Exchange; that he had left Richmond, and was now living at Clapham. The next day I met him near the Exchange. "Reynolds, I am happy to see you. Thompson told me that you had come back. If not better engaged, come down to see me; I will drive you down at four o'clock, if that will suit." It suited me very well; and, at four o'clock, I met him, according to appointment, at a livery stable over the Iron Bridge. His vehicle was ordered out; it was a phaeton drawn by two long-tailed ponies-altogether a very neat concern-we set off at a rapid pace. "They step out well, don't they? We shall be down in plenty of time to put on a pair of shoes by five o'clock, which is our dinner time. Late dinners don't agree with me—they produce indigestion. Of course you know that Louisa has a little boy." I did not; but congratulated him. "Yes; and has now gone out to India with her hus We stopped at a neat row of houses, I forget the name, and, as we drove up, the servant, the only man servant, came out, and took the ponies round to the stable, while the maid received my luggage, and one or two paper bags, containing a few extras for the occasion. I was met with the same warmth as usual by Mrs. Willemott. The house was small but very neat; the remnants of former grandeur appeared here and there, in one or two little articles, favourites of the lady. We sat down at five o'clock to a plain dinner, and were attended by the footman, who had rubbed down the ponies and pulled on his livery. "A good, plain cook is the best thing after all," observed Willemott. "Your fine cooks won't condescend to roast and boil. Will you take some of this sirloin? the under-cut is excellent. My dear, give Mr. Reynolds some Yorkshire pudding." When we were left alone after dinner, Willemott told me, very unconcernedly of his losses. "It was my own fault," said he; "I wished to make up a little sum for the girls, and, risking what they would have had, I left them almost pennyless. However, we can always command a bottle of port and a beefsteak, and what more in this world can you have? Will you take port or white? I have no claret to offer you." We finished our port, but I could perceive no difference in Willemett. He was just as happy and as cheerful as ever. He drove me to town the next day. During our drive, he observed, “I like ponies, they are so little trouble; and I prefer them to driving one horse in this vehicle, as I can put my wife and daughters into it. It's selfish to keep a carriage for yourself alone, and one horse in a four-wheeled double chaise appears like an imposition upon the poor animal." I went to Scotland, and remained about a year.On my return, I found that my friend Willemott had again shifted his quarters. He was at Brighton; and having nothing better to do, I put myself in the "Times," and arrived at the Bedford Hotel. It was not until after some inquiry, that I could find out his address. At last I obtained it, in a respectable but not fashionable part of this overgrown town. Willemott received me just as before. "I have no spare bed to offer you, but you must breakfast and dine with us every day. Our house is small, but it's very comfortable, and Brighton is a very convenient place. You know Mary is married. A good place in the courts was for sale, and my wife and I agreed to purchase it for Rivers. It has reduced us a little, but they are very comfortable. I have retired from business altogether; in fact, as my daughters are both married, and we have enough to live upon, what can we wish for more? Brighton is very gay, and always healthy; and, as for carriages and horses, they are of no use here; they are to be had at every corner of the streets." I accepted his invitation to dinner. A parlour. maid waited, but every thing, although very plain, stances; but the fact is, that although I have been a was clean and comfortable. "I have still a bottle of wine for a friend, Reynolds," said Willëmott, after dinner, " but, for my part, I prefer whiskey-toddy. It agrees with me better.— Here's to the health of my two girls, God bless them, and success to them in life." 44 "My dear Willemott," said I, “ I take the liberty of an old friend, but I am so astonished at your philosophy, that I cannot help it. When I call to mind Belem Castle, your large establishment, your luxuries, your French cook, and your stud of cattle, I wonder at your contented state of mind under such a change of circumstances." "I almost wonder myself, my dear fellow," replied he. "I never could have believed, at that time, that 1 could live happily under such a change of circum contractor, I have a good conscience; then, my wife is an excellent woman, and provided she sees me and her daughters happy, thinks nothing about herself; and, further, I have made it a rule, as I have been going down hill, to find reasons why I should be thankful, and not discontented. Depend upon it, Reynolds, it is not a loss of fortune which will affect your happiness, as long as you have peace and love at home." I took my leave of Willemott and his wife, with respect as well as regard; convinced that there was no pretended indifference to worldly advantages, that it was not that the grapes were sour, but that he had learned the whole art of happiness, by being contented with what he had, and by "cutting his coat ac cording to his cloth.” A MEMOIR OF PRINCE PUCKLER MUSKAU. FREELY TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF MARMIER. BY M. HERTZ, ESQ. [PUCKLER MUSKAU, whose free and caustic criticism on the aristocracy of England rendered his work, "The Travels of a German Prince," deservedly popular, has declared his intention of visiting the United States, for the purpose of indulging his book-making and erratic propensities. The bold originality of his ideas, the biting sarcasm with which he assails the weak points of society, with other independencies of criticism, ensure the production of an amusing volume of travels. But few particulars respecting him are known to the world that he has so severely handled-the industrious Frenchman has collected all that can be depended upon; and the following sketch of the fashionable literaire appears, for the first time, in an English shape.]-Editor G. M. of the visit, for it formed an event in his life. These two men met like two kings on neutral ground-one of them a little bruised through the severity of his fall, and the other still wrapt in ambitious dreams.— Puckler Muskau had lately filled the same station in Germany that Brummel had occupied in England— he had governed the saloons of Berlin and Dresden with uncontradicted authority, till, tired of supremacy, he journeyed forth in search of fresh excitement. Puckler Muskau fully accomplishes all the requirements of fashionable excellence. He has placed himself at the head of the literature of the bon ton. He is a prince, and possesses a castle; and his park, of which he is justly proud, is laid out according to the FASHION is an innate habitude, and cannot be ac-reign country, turned round towards Albion, and exquired. It is a difficult thing to give a perfect pic-claimed with noble pride, "Ingrata patria." ture of a baccalaureat of fashion. There are men Prince Puckler Muskau went to see Brummel at who place their heads under the care of the most skil-Calais, and finds pleasure in relating the particulars ful frizeur, and study intensely the various ties of the cravat, or the harmony of the different hues of their waistcoats-but, sooner or later, the plebeian alloy betrays the debasement of the finer metal. The Duke de Levy was one day asked his opinion about the new-made courtiers of Louis the Eighteenth. "Egad!" | said he, “they walk uneasily upon the inlaid floors." It is a difficult thing for a parvenu to climb the paths of fashionable life; but, on the other hand, how glorious is the triumph of the conqueror! of him who has achieved the grave mysteries of the toilet, who can converse on the plait of a ruffle with a washerwoman's skill, and can discourse on the polish of a pair of boots, with the tact of an experienced blacking maker! Once arrived at this high point, and the emi-regulation of English taste. He travels post-never nence is only to be obtained by slow degrees, the master of fashion is like the master of arts at the university-he judges in approval or condemnation, speaking ex cathedra, and is listened to in silence by the multitude who resolve to take him as their model through life. Old Brummel, who, for a length of time, was the type of English fashion, would not have exchanged fortunes with the king. Brummel reigned like a despot over the beau monde, and various aspiring lords strove in vain to pluck his sceptre from his grasp. His assurance annihilated their pretensions, and almost drove them to despair. One day this autocrat of taste was asked who was the most celebrated man in Europe? "I am," was the reply. After me, you may place Napoleon." In later years, he acknowledged that Lord Byron had some remote claims to popularity. Brummel's sovereignty, like other royalties, had its days of storm and revolution. The potentate who ruled all classes of English society, from the mighty duke to the plainest gentleman-who, by a word, could proscribe the existence of the shoe with buckles, or the hat with feathers-was conquered one evening between two wax candles-by the power of a card. He left upon the gaming table all that he possessed. He abdicated his crown; and taking refuge in a fo by the diligence. He is tall, lank, and pale, with curly hair, and has a very distingué appearance. Prince Puckler was born in the Castle of Muskau, in Upper Lusatia, on the thirtieth of October, 1785. His father, one of the richest nobles of Saxony, held the title of Court Councillor, and the young prince was educated with all the dignity becoming his rank. Although he ridicules the young aristocrats who pride themselves on the nobility of their titles, yet he venerates the antiquity of his family, and endeavours to prove that he is descended in a direct line from the celebrated Rüdiger de Bechlarn, one of the heroes of Niebelungen. In early life, Puckler studied at Dresden, at Leipzig, and at Halle-but the romance of his life began when he quitted the university, and entered the gardes-du-corps of the King of Saxony. His youth, his fine countenance, his title of nobility, and extensive fortune, to say nothing about his dandy uniform, drew all eyes towards him; and he threw himself with enthusiasm into the whirlpool which gaped before him. He had affairs of gallantry that made husbands uneasy; he was concerned in affairs of honour that affected the hearts of the young ladies, not only of the burgeoise, but of the highest nobility.— He was the Alcibiades of Dresden-or to use a less classic comparison, he was what the English term & |