he proposes first one and then another of her admirers to her as a suitable and proper match; but she urges some very tangible objection to each, until only the suit of Herr von Meerheim remains to be canvassed; and this is urged upon her again and again, until at last she says: "Father, if you will promise me that I shall feel the most perfect esteem for Herr von Meerbeim from the moment I marry him, I will be come his wife to-morrow." "I know no reason why you should not esteem him," replied the father. "Yes, y , yes, father dear! but I do not mean that every-day feeling of esteem or respect which one feels for all men of whom we know no evil; but such an esteem or veneration rather as I feel for thee; nay, even more than that, for thou, dear, kind father, hast spoiled thy Cathi, and she reckons so securely on thy forgiveness as scarcely to fear offending, knowing well that thou couldst not scold thy child. But a man does scold his wife-she is not his equal. Now, father dear, I would feel such esteem, such veneration for my husband as should make me study ever how best to please him-how to act so as never to incur his anger." "What thou callest esteem, Cathi, is love," said her father. “Well, then, be it love, dear father. I chose the other word because it best expressed what I have hitherto felt. Think'st thou I could ever love Herr von Meerheim if I became his wife?" "Perhaps-yes-nay, I cannot tell ;-ask thy mother, my pet." Cathi went to her mother, and said: “Tell me, dear mother, didst thou always love my father the same, or more, or less?" The gentle wife thus replied:-"At first thy father pleased me, then I liked him, and engaged myself to him. When I became his wife I loved him dearly; and when thou wert born, my Cathi, my affection increased to such a degree that since there has been no room in my heart for more love than I bear to him and thee." Catharine kissed the hand of her mother, and sat down thoughtfully to her work. The father gets worse, and on his deathbed entreats his daughter to wed Von Meerheim; and Catharine, who has no objection to her youthful, handsome, wealthy, and attentive lover, excepting that she does not love him as she could wish to love a husband, consents. The wedding is solemnized, and on the same night her father dies. The following sentences prophesy her prospects of wedded happiness. "Meerheim had exerted himself to the utmost, during the period of his wooing, to render himself agreeable and delightful, and to be ever aux petits soins; but now Catharine had become his wife, such attentions were of course quite superfluous. "Tis true her beauty still fascinated him; but it would be in the highest degree ennuyant to be ever at the feet of one woman, especially when that one is your own wife; and so he plunged with renewed zest into all his bachelor habits and connexions." How many will read their own history in these few lines! Why should all the poetry and beauty of life vanish so often with the days of courtship? Surely, if it is then worth while to bring into play every virtue, talent, and agréement, it must be still more so when not only the happiness of a few brief hours now and then depends upon it, but that of every day and every hour. Although we do not entirely agree with that French author who says "C'est aux hommes d'obtenir les femmes, aux femmes à retenir les hommes," we are not so partial as to assert that the fault is always or entirely on the man's side; for many women are apt to deem those graces, accomplishments, and amiabilities so lavishly displayed to the lover, as thrown away upon the husband. He may not and does not exhibit that exaggerated delight in them which he formerly used to express; but still it is very unwise to neglect one single charm either of person or mind; for on whichever side the fault lies, the woman always is the greatest sufferer-she has staked all on that one great cast of her game of life, and, if she loses there, is indeed a beggar; while the world and all its business, pursuits, amusements, and excitements, are still as open to the man as ever. Mais revenons. He The wedded pair are not happy: Von Meerheim is dissipated, a gambler, and at last faithless. Catharine endeavours, at first, by every gentle stratagem, every affectionate attention, to recall him to his home; but gradually disheartened by his indifference, and stung by his infidelity, even the slight feeling of regard which she at first felt, and strove to nurse into an enduring attachment, grows cold, and disappears. The birth of a child does not contribute to alter this state of things; for Von Meerheim wished for a boy, and will scarcely look on the little female stranger. A flagrant breach of decorum at last outrages Catharine to that degree, that she threatens to quit her husband's roof if he does not relinquish the obnoxious connexion. replies by starting off on a tour with the object of dispute, and Catharine withdraws with her child to her mother's house, obtains a divorce -a matter neither so difficult nor so expensive as in England-receives back her fortune, and is once more free. Some two years afterwards the mother dies, and Catharine having no society but her little girl, sets out on a tour, in order to dissipate her melancholy. In a steam-boat on the Rhine she meets and is introduced to Lord Desmond, a rich and handsome Englishman, one who has drunk so deeply of pleasure in all its varieties as to have become blasé, indifferent, apathetic, and withal somewhat melancholy. The beauty, vivacity, energy, and mental charms of Catharine awaken his heart in some degree from its stupor. They visit beautiful scenery and ancient ruins in company, and her piquant observations cause him to find a pleasure in them he has not known for some time; and in the hope that the freshness and energy of her spirits will vivify and reanimate his, and cause the fountains of enjoyment to flow fresh for him, he offers her his hand; which she, who has only seen in him the intellectual and agreeable com self hasty, selfish, discontented and erigéant. I can forgive her parting from Meerheim; but to separate herself from such a man as Desmond, one so handsome, rich, and amiable, so indulgent of all her whims, and one too whom she professed to have loved-oh that is sinful, unpardonable !" "In my opinion she treats men just as she would servants," said Major Soltan: "turn them off if they do not do what she consider their duty." "Well, man as I am," observed Herr vor Ohlen, "I cannot side with my own sex here. What support or protection was the dissipated Meerheim, or the apathetic Desmond, to a young, ardent, and proud woman, who require. some one to look up to, and be to her a g and protector? I feel the compliment she pays us men too much to condemn her." "Doubtless!" sneered Madame Reiche, handsome widow. "There is nothing men bre better than for our sex to bow down before them, and acknowledge our dependence. Ho ever, let Lady Desmond beware, or one day se will meet with a tyrant, who will teach her all the delights of yielding to a master mind. Of thing I am convinced that she will neve contented, let her wed whom she will. Spid children always throw their toys away, for the moon; and she seems to have some chimerical ideas of happiness, that reality s inevitably fall very far short of them." panion, the elegant and handsome man, accepts, We cannot forbear quoting a portion of the conversation which follows the conclusion of Frau von Rosen's narrative. Gaston spoke not, but his mind was occupe with her and her story; he reviewed it in all a bearings, and thus ran his verdict-" She is This Gaston Lapperg is the cousin, who has laid claim to part of her property; on his first introduction to Catharine, struck with her beauty, elegance, and fascinations, the idea of a far more amicable mode of settling their riva claims than through the agency of law, entere his mind; but now he trembles at it, for Gaste dreads above everything a cold, heartless woman. Such an one was his mother, and lis childhood and youth were consequently a dreary waste, uncheered by the summer sun of parental affection. Then his first love is bestowed upon a heartless, giddy coquette, who accepts his homage, and trifles with him until, frightenel by the vehemence of the passion she hai kindled and fed into a flame, she drives h from her presence with indignation. Noris his next much more happy, for that is bestowed upon an uneducated peasant girl. He wishes to educate her before he makes her his countess, and accordingly places the proper funds at her disposal, and sets out to travel for a year or twe Affection is the great want of his heart, and he passes his term of absence in delightful antice pation of all the felicities which his union with this simple, warm-hearted girl will yield. At "Well, my dear Rosen," said a lady; "in my the end of the period allotted for Gertrude's in opinion your young friend has acted like a veri-struction, he hastens to claim her as his, and table spoiled child throughout, and shown her- finds that she has married the village school master. Firmly impressed with the belief that all women are heartless and faithless, Gaston retires to his country seat, where he discovers the papers on which he founds his claim to the property, for which he sues Catharine. He issues from his retreat to put these in force, and is introduced to his cousin by his friend and college companion, Herr von Óhlen, of whose history we will give a slight sketch. He, too, has his love-tale. The object of his affection is a married woman, united to a man much her senior; but her conduct is faultless, nor does Ohlen know that she was conscious of, much less reciprocated his constant, respectful, and devoted attachment, until after her death. He is wedded to her memory. Leonora, a cousin of his, a weak, artful, romantic girl, has chosen to pretend to fall in love with him, and notwithstanding his utter and evident indifference, will not be turned aside. Just after Frau von Rosen's first soirée, hearing that he is ill, and having heard some rumours attributing to him an attachment towards Lady Desmond, this wrongheaded girl quits her mother's house, takes a post-chaise, and suddenly makes her appear ance in Ohlen's chamber, where Gaston has just arrived to inquire after his health. Ohlen, vexed and enraged by her obstinate folly, receives her almost rudely, and entreats Gaston to advise him what to do with her. She is conducted by him to an hotel, while Ohlen goes to Frau von Rosen to request her to have the goodness to accord her protection to Leonora, and save her from the scandal consequent upon her act of folly. The good old lady does more; she invites Leonora to her house, provides her with clothes, and gives out that she has come expressly to spend a few weeks with her. Leoparents are written to to permit her absence. A second soirée takes place at Frau von Rosen's, and Leonora is introduced to the circle. Lady Desmond and this young girl feel a mutual and inexplicable antipathy towards each other, and Leonora resolves to outshine the proud beauty if possible, while Catharine sits down in silence to examine her own heart. Gaston comes to converse with her, and is full of admiration of the wit, sprightliness, and willingness to oblige, of Leonora. Catharine hears his praises of her with some feeling of pique, and replies with her usual frankness, which Gaston attributes to envy. nora's Leonora's passion for her cousin does not blind her to her own interests: he was a good match; but she sees another as rich, as wellconnected, and more easy of attainment; and attributing Von Ohlen's neglect of her in some degree to Catharine, she resolves to revenge herself on this fancied rival. She has quickly perceived that Lady Desmond regards Gaston with some degree of favour, and that he is not altogether indifferent to the charms of his lovely cousin; and she has likewise discovered the weak side of his character-his dread of again meeting a cold-hearted, proud woman, his desire to be loved. On this she artfully plays, seeking his friendship and approval with every appear ance of timid bashfulness and dependence, artfully drawing his attention to every proud look or satirical remark of her rival, falsely interpreting all that is amiable and good about her, and always making herself the contrast. Gaston falls into the snare, notwithstanding the sportive and serious warnings of Ohlen, who knows his cousin, and the school in which she has been educated, too well to be deceived, and who sincerely wishes to see the man he loves and the woman he esteems united. Catharine, too proud to betray that she has even wasted a thought on one who evidently cares not for her, resolves to go into the country for awhile. Ohlen endeavours to alter her determination, and says, if only on account of her law-suit, she ought to stay; but she bitterly replies, "that I am sure to lose." He inquires wherefore, and she says: "Men make the laws-men teach them-men carry them into execution: is it to be expected that, with this power in their hands, they will be unmindful of their own interests ? Happy sex! they dare do everything, learn everything, know everything: they arrogate to themselves almost God-like attributes they sit on the judgment-seat, and pronounce sentence of life or death-they stand in the church, and mete out blessings or condemnation--they rule the country, they defend it—they sail round the world-they practise the arts and sciences; and we, we poor women, must only look on. I sometimes hate them!" "Why?" said Ohlen, "because they do things which are impossible to, and improper for women?" 66 Impossible, Herr von Ohlen! send the girls to the universities, and set the boys to learn sewing and cooking; and, in the course of three generations, your proud sex would see what was impossible, and feel what it was to be the oppressed ones." "Well, Lady Desmond, suppose I admit the possibility of difference in education producing this entire change of nature, will you also admit that women would be as liable as we are to misuse their superiority?" "Certainly; there cannot be the slightest doubt of it; for are they not beings possessed of like qualities and feelings and passions with men ?" Now, without wishing to go so far as our heroine, we must pause in our narrative to add our pigmy objections to the mass of those urged against the present system of female education. Accomplishments! accomplishments! are the order of the day; every girl whose position in life is likely to be such as to cause her to endeavour to get her own living, is educated for a governess-until the holders of that once respected situation are become a mere drug on the market; and the consequence is, as with all things where the supply is greater than the demand, and the article cheap, they are undervalued, and too often not treated so well, or looked on with as much respect, as the cook or lady's-maid. Why is it that only the mere external graces are now considered of import ance? Have not women minds and hearts, which would repay cultivation? Are they not moral beings, having great social influence on society as the wives, sisters, and companions of men; a high and holy calling as the guides and guardians of infancy-of that period when the seeds of all that good or evil which develops itself in after-life are sown? And is it with a view to this that they are educated? No; under the influence of modern education our young women are, too often, mere highlywrought animated specimens of art, fit for the drawing-room, but useless for all domestic purposes. One would think that the great business of their lives was to end on their wedding day; for how few are educated with a view to their forming good wives and mothers? although the end and aim of all they do is often to obtain a husband. Many do, however, surmount all these defects; the natural pliability of a woman, her power of adapting herself to circumstances, her desire to please and benefit those she loves, and the innate impulses of nature, will often enable her to become all she should be-all she is born to be; but how much better were it if this were not left a mere matter of chance or circumstance; if she were systematically educated to shine in her native sphere--home; to exercise her gentle, but powerful influence beneficially in all her several relations. Those accomplishments and graces which give a charm to society would lose none of their fascinations from being found adorning one who was an affectionate and judicious sister, daughter, or wife-a tender, yet sensible mother, and a clever housewife. ship to Gaston, she sees the realization of her ideal, and they become friends, in the truest and fullest sense of the words. "As a matter of course, the world has long since declared that love, and not friendship, forms their bond of union; but for once the world is wrong," observes our authoress. "People also say that in the end they will marry; but I think their friendship is too valuable to them for them ever to exchange its beautiful evergreen freshness for the fading roses of an earthly love.” structed; the portraits are naturally drawn, with Of such slight materials is this novel conthe exception of that of Catharine; and what appears exaggerated in her character is more the effect of education, position, and circumThe kind-hearted, quiet, yet shrewd old lady, stance, than any wilful perversion of nature. Frau von Rosen; the artful, intriguing superficial Leonora; the elegant, coquettish, coldhearted Blanche Sonin; the sneering, scandalloving Baroness Reiche; and last, but not least, the pure-hearted, high principled, yet gentle and feeling woman, Vincenza, Ohlen's first and only love all come before us as living pictures. Nor manly Von Ohlen; the nervous, sensitive, vacilare the persons of the calm, intellectual, gentlelating Gaston; the frivolous, unprincipled Meerheim; or the apathetic Desmond greater strangers. One more quotation, which appears to us not without its moral, and we have done. "At this moment the door flew open, and in ran the two children, striving with each other which should first reach Catharine's arms; and once there, they overwhelmed her with their Von Ohlen surplayful and innocent caresses. veyed the lovely group with admiration for some moments, and then gave way to that too prevalent habit among men-I allude to that of teasing children." Heavens! when I recall to mind how I used to be teased while a little girl, my heart over there is no better joke, no more interesting amusement, than to vex and irritate children; to watch their eyes sparkle, their cheeks glow, their little bosoms heave with anger, and mark the force and vehemence of all the budding passions which are then so naïvely expressed in action, word, and look. In my own mind I am perfectly convinced that many a forward, satirical, passionate woman, has to thank the mockeries and teasings of some person or persons about her during her childhood for the predominance of these evil characteristics. But to return. Catharine retires to her country-seat, and the remaining scenes of the novel take place here. Leonora goes home to her mother perfectly satisfied that she has rendered herself and her flatteries, and half-uttered sentences of regard, so indispensable to Gaston that he will soon follow her; which he does makes an offer-is accepted, and only returns to arrange all his affairs before marrying and car-flows with bitterness! Some persons think that rying off his bride to Lapperg castle. Ohlen visits Catharine, and circumstances lead him to relate his past history to her. He persuades her to offer terms of accommodation to her cousin respecting the property at issue, and Gaston gladly accepts the olive-branch, and promises to come over to settle all. On his arrival the house is full of company, and almost the first person he beholds is Blanche Sonin, his first love, as great a coquette as ever, and at that moment striving to win the heart of a young poet. She greets Gaston with the utmost indifference and cool politeness; but he is so much put out as to be incapable of imitating her calmness. The law business is arranged-he departs-marries-pocket. and, report says, speedily finds cause for repentance. Catharine devotes herself to the education of her child, and does not marry again; but she has found "THE RIGHT ONE;' for in the intellectual, chivalrous von Ohlen, faithful in life and in death to his first and only attachment, sincere and devoted in his friend Little Gertrude dropped her pocket-handkerchief, and Ohlen caught it up and put it in his "Gertrude," he said, "do you go walking without a pocket-handkerchief?” "No," replied the little one, looking round to see what had become of it; I had it when I came in." "Where is it, then?" he asked, as the children looked all about. Ah, you have lost it! Won't 66 Mademoiselle Juliette scold you well for such carelessness ?" But Gertrude suspected some trick, for she cried, "You've got it, Herr von Ohlen!" "Me! What should I do with your little bit of a kerchief? Look there! I do verily believe that that crow upon the roof has it in his bill." Both children involuntarily looked up at the opposite roof, and clapping his hands he cried, "Caught! caught!" 66 "You have got my handkerchief, I know you have," pouted Gertrude. 'Give it to me, do!" But he still continued to tease her, until large tears stood in her eyes and began to roll over her ruddy cheeks. "Let's see," he said, "I may have put it in my pocket by mistake." “Ah! Her von Ohlen has told a falsehood,” eried little Stephenie, as he produced the handkerchief. "Stephenie, you must not speak so bluntly," reproved Catharine. "Her von Ohlen was only joking." "Oh!-then mamma, I may tell stories when I am only joking?" Catharine would have been puzzled to reply to this simple remark, but the noise created by the struggle between Ohlen and Gertrude saved her from the perplexity. He would only give the handkerchief up on condition that Gertrude kissed him, and she saw no reason why she should purchase back her own property, and so a struggle and a romp ensued, and at last he caught her, kissed her until she screamed, and then threw her the object of dispute. “Now you may as well go," observed Catharine. "You have taught Stephenie that it is no sin to tell an untruth in joke, and Gertrude that she may obtain her rights by bribery or kisses— lessons enough for one morning, methinks.” How few children there are who do not meet with a thousand such scenes during that period of life when the mind is most ductile; and is it to be supposed that they leave no impression M. A. Y. behind? A PANEGYRIC, On seeing Mrs. Warner as HERMIONE REPRESENTING HER OWN STATUE in " The Winter's Tale," at Sadler's Wells Theatre, Monday, December 8th, 1845. BY WILLIAM HENRY FISK. Poet! Painter! Sculptor! There, Like the day-dream of our hearts; When the poet-fancy bounding, Sportive in a rosy tint, Paints this marble-world, surrounding So the Sculptur'd form created From the cold, hard marble, burns With a warm blush, half abated, That the Poet, watching, deems, Like his fancy, flitting, turns Or deep or gentle with his dreams, As though, indeed, the chissell'd form Could wear a hue to every storm, The passions once had swayed in thee, This STATUE's sweet realityPure, true, chaste, fair Hermione! So rarely blended, mingled, twined, It seems life, soul, and death combined! As if the Sculptor's wearied frame Sank as the zenith of its fame Ambition won, and from the clay, The spirit, viewless, winged its way, And then, enamoured of its thought, Inhabited the form it wrought! A sudden start! Watch-can it be Or when he marked the snowy vest, Lady, should this meet thine eye, Have marked to rise and swell In the mute breathings of a ravished throng, Each tributary stream Calm was the boisterous, the gay Till passion's bounds the stream o'erleaped, It dashed aside the tears it weeped, |