the declaration of rights made by the conftituent assembly, in all its extent and confequences. The count de who was informed of the correspondence between the two lovers, and who faw little hopes of his fon's fubduing a paffion which this intercoufe of letters ferved to cherish, contrived means to have Augufte's letters intercepted at the convent. In vain Madelaine enquired with all the anxiety of tendernefs for letters. In vain the counted the hours till the return of the postdays. Poft after poft arrived, and brought no tidings of Augufte. Three months paffed in the cruel torments of anxiety and fufpenfe, and were at length fucceeded by defpair. Madelaine believed she was forgotten-forgotten by Augufte!-She confulted her own heart, and it feemed to her impoffible; yet, after a filence of three months, fhe could doubt no longer. Poor Madelaine now recollected with anguish, instead of pleasure, that all Frenchmen were free. She would have found fome fad confolation in believing that all Frenchmen were flaves. It would have been fome alleviation of her forrows if Augufte had been forced to abandon her; and fhe fancied fhe could have borne to lofe him, if she had been fure that he ftill loved her-it was lofing him by his own fault that filled her heart with pangs almost infupportable. The little pittance which Madelaine, after paying her father's debts, had left for her own fupport, was infufficient to defray her expences as a boarder in the convent. She had already, by her sweetness and gentlenefs, gained the affections of fome of the nuns, to whom he was alfo attached, and who inceffantly conjured her to take the veil. And why,' the fometimes exclaimed, why should I hesitate any longer in fo doing? Since Augufte is loft, what have I to regret in renouncing the world? What facrifice do I make; what happiness do I refign? Madelaine had no ties to the world, of which the knew but little but to feparate herself irrecoverably, and for ever, from him to whom her foul was devoted-to see him, to hear his voice no more-to take vows which would make it even a crime to think of him-to banish him even from her thoughts-alas! Madelaine felt like Eloifa All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has Still rebel nature holds out half my heart!" part, Sometimes too the idea ocurred that Augufte might love her ftill- And am I then,' thought Madelaine, 'going to reduce myself to a ftate in which I thall be forced to wish he were unfaithful, in order to fave me from the agonies of remorfe l'-She put off all thoughts of entering on her novitiate for fome weeks longer-no letters arrived, and again her refolution to take the veil returned. • Why," cried fhe, why fhould I ftill continue to lament that inconftant lover who thinks of me no more? Alas, alas, did he not fee the anguish of my foul at parting with him?Does he not know the deferted fituation in which I am left?-Oh, yes! he knows I have no other refuge, no other refource than taking the veil-no doubt he wishes to hear I have done fo-he will find in my renunciation of the world some excuse for his infidelity-Oh, heavens! will Augufte hear then that I am separated from him for ever without one figh? -Ah, why need I deliberate any longer?-My trials will foon be past I feel that my hear will breakyes, death will come to my reliefand in heaven I fhall find my father!' Madelaine at length determined to join the holy fifterhood of the convent. The white veil for her novitiate was prepared. The day was fixed, when, proftrate with her face toward the earth, and with flowers fcattered over her, and a part of her long treffes cut off, he was to enter upon that fo lemn lemn trial preparatory to her eternal renunciation of the world-of Augufte! A few days before that which was appointed for the ceremony, Madelaine was called to the parlour, where the found her lover, with fome of the municipal officers of the town, wear ing their national scarfs. Madelaine, at the fight of Augufte, with difficulty reached a chair, in which he fell back fenfeless; while Augufte could not forbear uttering fome imprecations against the iron grate by which they were feparated, and which prevented him from flying to her affiftance. He, however, procured help, and Madelaine recovered. One of the municipal officers then informed her, that they had received the day before a decree of the national affembly, forbidding any nuns to be profeffed. He added, that the municipality had already given information of this new law to the abbess, who had confented to allow Madelaine to leave the convent immediately. As he pronounced these laft words, Madelaine looked at her lover. Augufte haftened to explain to her that his uncle, who loved him and pitied his fufferings, had at length made a will, leaving him his fortune upon condition that his father confented to his marriage with Madelaine. When her lover and the municipal officers departed, Madelaine retired to her apartment, to give way to those delicious tears which were poured from a heart overflowing with wonder, thankfulness, and joy. When her firft emotions had fubfided, fhe began to pack up her little wardrobe in preparation for leaving the convent on the following day. I always loved the revolution,' thought Madelaine, as he laid afide the white gown, in which he was to be married the next morning; and this last decree is furely of all others the best and wifeft but if it had come too late!'-At this idea Madelaine took up the veil for her novitiate, which lay upon her table, and bathed it with a Hood of tears. The next morning, Auguste and Madelaine were married in the parishchurch of and immediately after the ceremony fet out for Paris, where they now live, and are, I am told, two of the happiest people and the beft patriots in France. OBSERVATIONS on the THEATRICAL AMUSEMENTS of Paris. [From the SAME. ] WE left Orleans the beginning at a time when there is nothing to be of December, and are come seen. to pass the winter at Paris. Such of Notwithstanding this obliging pity our acquaintance as are ariftocrates of fome of my acquaintances, I am tell us how much we ought to lament rather difpofed to congratulate mythe evil deftiny which has led us to felf that I have miffed the fine equiParis at prefent; that the town has pages, the laced liveries, and the loft all its former eclat; that all the good company at Coblentz; while I good company are at Coblentz; that have an opportunity of obferving the the fplendid equipages are laid afide; effects of a revolution, fo noble in its that the public walks, where formerly defign, fo aftonishing in the fudden none but perfons comme il faut were change produced in the fentiments of fuffered to enter, are now filled with a whole nation, rifing from the fervipeople whom nobody knows; and lity of abject fervitude, to fuch an that, upon the whole, we may con- exalted spirit of freedom, that the fider ourselves as moft unfortunate contemplation infpires unwearied adtravellers, who have come to fee Paris miration and wonder. I believe that the former magnificence of Paris, when its public places and public walks were crowded with perfons diftinguished by stars and ribbons, would have conveyed fenfations very different, and far lefs delightful to my heart than those which I have felt amid rejoicing multitudes, who had no other claim to diftinction than virtue and patriotifm, and no other decoration than the national cockade. I have fometimes recollected, on thofe occafions, the fine lines of Addifon. Oh, Liberty, thou goddess heav'nly bright, Profufe of blifs, and pregnant with delight! Eternal pleatures in thy prefence reign, And fmiling Plenty leads thy wanton train; Eas'd of her load, Subjection grows more light, And Poverty looks cheerful in thy fight; Thou mak'ft the gloomy face of nature I never witness thefe fcenes of general felicity without indulging the hope that a period is approaching more favourable than the former period, to the general happiness of the human race; when the crooked fubtleness of politics and the open violations of juftice will alike pafs away, and what has hitherto been confidered as the fond fpeculation of the philofopher, the golden dream of the moalift, will become hiftorical fact; when we fhall no longer trace in the annals of hiftory a fanguinary lift of crimes; when ambition, deprived of all power of doing evil, will only be left the ability to do good, and be forbidden any longer to cover the earth with defolation; and when no path to glory will be left, but from the cultivation of human happiness. Do not imagine, however, that the emigrants have left nothing behind them but public fpirit and public vir; and that all fplendour, tafte, tue and gaiety have fled with them to Coblentz. There are at prefent no less than twenty theatres at Paris, which are well filled every night; and at most of which you fee charming acting. The grace, the fprightliness, the naïveté, the eafy natural movements of their comic actors far furpafs any thing our London theatres can boaft. Let us refign to the French the palm of comedy, fince the laurels of tragedy are all our own.-There is but one Siddons, one transcendent genius, who has every paffion of the human heart at her command, and the fublime graces of whofe performance it is impoffible not to feel, but no less impoffible to defcribe. Gefture, that marks with force, and A fcene in filence, and a will in thought; Incenfe too pure a bodied frame to bear, Its fragrance charms the fenfe, and melts in air. A Mademoiselle Clairon, the celebrated French tragic actress, not contented with the fame she had acquired, once attempted, contrary to the advice of her friends, to act the part of Merope, in Voltaire's tragedy; a part which madame Dufmenil, the rival of mademoiselle Clairon, had acted with extraordinary fuccefs. friend of mademoiselle Clairon's, who fupped with her after the performance, faid to her, You have very fine tragic powers, but you must abfolutely renounce the part of Merope; for there madame Dufmenil is far fuperior to you.' Ah cui!' faid mademoiselle Clairon, heaving a deep figh, la miférable!-elle a eu un enfant!-Ah, yes! the wretch – she has had a child!" Is it a proof of the fuperior refinement of the French, that they are fonder of theatrical amusements than the English? Or does it arife from that love of gaiety and pleasure, which is fo much more prevalent in the French than the English character? A London tradefman, when the bufinefs of the day is over, fits down contentedly with his wife and children, and reads the newspaper. But a bourgeois at Paris ufually concludes the day at one of the spectacles, and this without injuring his circumftances; as a tafte for thofe amufements being univerfal at Paris, there are spectacles adapted to every purse, and pleasure may be had at a very cheap rate. There are coffee-houses on the Boulevards, where the people, while they drink their wine, lemonade, or orgeat, are entertained with a play gratis. Women, as well as men, are admitted to thefe coffee-houses; for the English idea of finding eafe, comfort, or feftivity, in focieties where women are excluded, never enters into the imagination of a Frenchman. Not that the fame gallantry, the fame conftant attention to women now prevails which exifted before the revolution.-Like Moliere's Doctor, 'on a changé tout cela.' The men, engroffed by political concerns which involve the fate of their country, and on which their own lives and fortunes depend, have no longer leisure or inclination to devote as much time as they did formerly to the women; and I think the French ladies ftand a fair chance of being foen almost as much neglected as the English. Not only the age of chivalry, but the age of petits maîtres is past. The greateft fimplicity in drefs is obferved, and is fometimes carried even to negligence. Every man feems at pains to fhew that he has wafted as few moments as it was poffible at his toilette, and that his mind is bent on higher cares than the embellifh ment of his perfon. I am told that this revolution in drefs and manners, this fubverfion of the ancient laws of etiquette, has excited fuch a degree of furprise and wonder in the king's attendants at the Thuilleries, that, notwithstanding this is the fourth year of French liberty, thofe gentlemen have not yet got the better of their aftonifhment. Nothing, it is faid, can exceed the minute curiofity, and the expreffive looks, fhrugs, and geftures, with which they examine the dress of the members of the national assembly, when fent on deputations to the king. It is known that these gentlemen in waiting, having no idea of dignity,. unaccoutred with a fword and bag, were difpofed to treat the deputations from the national affembly with contempt, till Mirabeau took the trouble to give them a lesson on that subject. He was fent at the head of a deputation of the national affembly to the king. The attendants, inftead of going to inform his majefty, that they' defired an audience, kept them waiting in the antichamber. Mirabeau," however, did not wait long. He rose from his feat, and with that commanding afpect and emphatic tone which belonged to him, walking up to a ci-devant duke, he faid, Monfieur, je vous ordonne d'aller dire au Roi que les repréfentans de la nation Française font ici.-Sir, I order you to go and inform the king, that the reprefentatives of the French nation are here.' He was obeyed without one moment's hesitation. · But to return to the theatres. The little comic pieces which are acted at the petits fpectacles at Paris are far fuperior to our London after-pieces, which in general are full of coarse, broad humour, much more calculated to excite difguft than laughter. Even Harlequin, at Paris, inftead of confining himself, as he does at London, to manual wit, and feats of activity, affumes a character of naiveté diverting enough. In this ftyle is the account he gives to a friend of his having fallen in love: Et même, adds he, je fuis moitié marié. Mais comment ?' replies his friend. -Ce que je le veux bien,' fays harlequin, et il ne manque que le confentement de la demoiselle. I am even half married.-But how?-Why I am ready, and there is nothing wanting but the confent of the young lady.” E The The opera at Paris infinitely furpaffes, in the fplendour of its decorations, the illufion of the machinery, and the charm of the dancing, the opera at London. But you know I am no enthuɓaftic admirer of this fashionable amufement. I always find at an opera fuch an air of burlefque, fomething fo artificial, nature and fimplicity fo completely banished, that, notwith ftanding I love mufic paffionately, I cannot help fometimes feeling that the mufic at an opera plays round the head, but comes not to the heart." And I am inclined to think with lord Chesterfield, that, in order to be pleased with that entertainment, you ought to leave your understanding with your half-guinea at the door. THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. ALTHOUGH the contemplation of wonder; and, with refpect to fome particular parts and methods of the Divine government, although he finds the greateft reafon to believe, that they are adapted, in fome inconceivable way, to promote the ultimate views of Providence for the happinefs of all his creatures, yet our philofopher may not be able to difcern diftinctly that happy fubferviency, and that wife and benevolent connection: but, as to the moral perfections of the Deity, and the great end he had in view in creating the world, and which he continues to have in fuperintending it, his ideas may be more exact and determinate. the Supreme Being, which is the exalted felicity of celeftial fpirits, is a fubject too fublime for mortal conceptions, yet the contemplation of his works below, and the imitation of his moral perfections, conftitutes the true happiness, and includes the whole duty of mankind. But, in addreffing myfelf to the inhabitants of this fublunary fphere, it is proper to obferve, that when I confider the imitation of God as the proper flady and employment of man, it is to be taken under two restrictions: the one, that an adequate and perfect refemblance is not required, but only a real, prevailing, and everimproving likenefs; the other, that What, for inftance, can be more the imitation enjoined relates only to intelligible, or more familiar to creathe moral perfections of the Deity.tures of the human fpecies, than the When we speak of God, we fpeak of idea of goodness And as the idea of a Being who is infinitely exalted above it must be clear and distinct, our phius, and of whom even the higheft of lofopher has every reason to attribute his creatures can form but imperfect it to the Deity, in its higheft and and comparatively low conceptions. moft extenfive degree. Upon the most Although nothing can be more evident curfory view of the order and operato a reflecting mind, than that God tions of nature, he cannot but observe must be self-existent and eternal, and a general tendency to happiness, a the creator and preferver of the uni- benevolent defign pervading all the verfe; yet, when the most profound works of God, and that defign corphilofopher begins to fix his medita- refpondently productive. He beholds tions more particularly and intenfely a vaft variety of creatures, of differapon felf-existence, eternity, producent orders, rejoicing in their existence; tion into being, and that omnipotent which the divine bounty has made fo power and univerfal energy which defirable, by furnishing them with uphold the whole fyftem of created whatever is beft fuited, not only to nature in continued existence and re- the mere fupport of life, but for the gular order, his mind muft be foon gratification of their different appetites Tot in painful reflection and awful and inftincts. If he proceed to con I template |