+ letters, upon vellum paper, with pink margins, sealed with sweet +mottoes, and dainty devices, the whole deliciously perfumed with musk and attar of roses; young ladies who collect "copies of verses," and charades, keep albums, copy patterns, make bread seals, work little dogs upon footstools, and paint flowers without shadow-Oh! no! the epistolary steam engine will never come into vogue with those dear creatures. They must enjoy the "feast of reason, and the flow of soul," and they must writeyes! and how they do write! 7. But for another genus of female scribes, unhappy innocents! who groan in spirit at the dire necessity of having to hammer out one of those aforesaid terrible epistles; who, having in due form dated the gilt edged-sheet that lies outspread before them in appalling whiteness, having also felicitously achieved the graceful exordium, "My dear Mrs. P," or "My dear Lady V," or "My dear any thing else," feel that they are in for it, and must say something! Oh, that something that must come of nothing! those bricks that must be made without straw! those pages that must be filled with words! Yea, with words that must be sewed into sentences! Yea, with sentences that must seem to mean something: the whole to be tacked together, all neatly fitted and dovetailed so as to form one smooth, polished surface ! 8. What were the labors of Hercules to such a task! The very thought of it puts me into a mental perspiration; and, from my inmost soul, I compassionate the unfortunates now (at this very moment, perhaps,) screwed up perpendicularly in the seat of torture, having in the right hand a fresh-nibbed patent pen, dipped ever and anon into the ink bottle, as if to hook up ideas, and under the outspread palm of the left hand a fair sheet of best Bath post, (ready to receive thoughts yet unhatched), on which their eyes are riveted with a stare of disconsolate perplexity infinitely touching to a feeling mind. thize + 9. To such unhappy persons, in whose miseries I deeply sympa- Have I not groaned under similar horrors, from the hour when I was first shut up (under lock and key, I believe), to indite a dutiful epistle to an honored aunt? I remember, as if it were yesterday, the moment when she who had enjoined the task entered to inspect the performance, which, by her calculation, should have been fully completed. I remember how sheepishly I hung down my head, when she snatched from before me the paper, (on which I had made no farther progress than "My dear ant,") angrily exclaiming, "What, child! have you been shut up here three hours to call your aunt a pismire?" From that hour of humiliation I have too often groaned under the endurance of similar penance, and I have learned from my own sufferings to compassionate those of my dear sisters in affliction. To such unhappy per sons, then, I would fain offer a few hints, (the fruit of long experience), which, if they have not already been suggested by their own observation, may prove serviceable in the hour of + emergency. 10. Let them or suppose I address myself to one particular sufferer—there is something more confidential in that manner of communicating one's ideas. As Moore says, "Heart speaks to heart." I say, then, take always special care to write by candlelight, for not only is the apparently unimportant operation of snuffing the candle in itself a momentary relief to the depressing con sciousness of mental vacuum, but not unfrequently that trifling act, or the brightening flame of the taper, elicits, as it were, from the dull embers of fancy, a sympathetic spark of fortunate conception. When such a one occurs, seize it quickly and dextrously, but, at the same time, with such cautious prudence, as not to huddle up and contract in one short, paltry sentence, that which, if ingeniously handled, may be wiredrawn, so as to undulate gracefully and smoothly over a whole page. 11. For the more ready practice of this invaluable art of dilating, it will be expedient to stock your memory with a large assortment of those precious words of many syllables, that fill whole lines at once; "incomprehensibly, amazingly, decidedly, solicitously, inconceivably, incontrovertibly." An opportunity of using these, is, to a distressed spinster, as delightful as a copy all m's and n's to a child. "Command you may, your mind from play." They run on with such delicious smoothness! BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE. QUESTIONS.-How must epistolary intercourse or letter writing be conducted, in order to be agreeable and useful? What manner of conducting it is ridiculed in this lesson? What is meant by talking nonsense? To what inflections, in this lesson, is Rule II, §3, applicable ? Parse "them" in the 10th paragraph. What word may be understood after it? Parse "dilating" in the 11th paragraph. Parse "incomprehensibly," "amazingly," &c., in the same paragraph. Parse "m's" and "n's." Parse "all." Parse "run on" in the last sentence. What is the subject and what the attribute? See Pinneo's Analytical Grammar, page 114. LESSON XC. Be careful to give all the consonants their full sound in PRONOUNCE Correctly.-I-rons, pro. i-urns: un-clean-ly, pro. un-clen-ly: Christ-en-dom, pro. kris'n-dum: pris-on, pro. priz'n (see McGuffey's Spelling Book, page 49): min-utes, pro. min-its: pret-ty, pro. prit-ty. Ar'-ras, n. a kind of curtains hung Foul, a. wicked, abominable. cent. A-non', adv. soon; still and anon means, now and then, frequently. Wince, v. to shrink back as from pain. Wan'-ton-ness, n. playfulness, sportive- | Chid, v. blamed, reproached. [or troubles. Hubert. HEAT me these irons hot; and, look thou stand Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth, + And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. (Enter Arthur. Good-morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good-morrow, little prince. Arth. As little prince (having so great a title Hub. To be more prince) as may be. You are sad. Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks no person should be sad but I: [Arthur.) Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Is it my fault that I were Geoffrey's son? He will awake my mercy, which lies dead: Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom. (Aside.) Read here, young Arthur. (Showing a paper.) How now, foolish rheum? (Aside.) Turning dispiteous torture out the door! I must be brief; lest resolution drop Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ? Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. Arth. And will you? Hub. And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, (The best I had, a princess wrought it me), And I did never ask it you again: And with my hand at midnight held your head, Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief? you Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes? Hub. I have sworn to do it; And with hot irons must I burn them out. Arth. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it : Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert's. Hub. Come forth. (Stamps.) (Reënter Attendants, with cord, Do as I bid you. [irons, &c.) Arth. Oh, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the irons angrily; Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to. Hub. Go stand within; let me alone with him. 1st At. I am best pleased to be from such a deed. (Ex. Atten.) Arth Alas! I then have chid away my friend: He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart: Let him come back, that his compassion may Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself. Arth. Is there no remedy? Hub. None, but to lose your eyes. Arth. Oh heaven! that there were but a mote in yours, |