magnificent in the highest degree. It consisted of a number of apartments, which went off at right and left, from a gallery of amazing length. I was ushered, by this old domestic, into a superb hall, at the extremity of this gallery, in which, on a brightly shining throne, sat the genius of the place—a Lady of most exquisite beauty. Near her, on each side, stood a number of attendants, richly apparelled. On my entrance she invitingly extended her hand to me, but I was too much agitated to approach; laying both hands however upon my heart, and slightly blushing, I bowed in profoundest reverence. She seemed pleased with my diffidence. On looking up, I perceived that her attendants consisted of the deceased literary characters of the countryDr. Johnson, Addison, Steele, M'Kenzie, Hawksworth, and a number of others; at this my agitation increased, as from the manner in which they stood, diverging on each side from the throne, they formed an avenue, through which I must of necessity pass, ere I reached it. Every eye was upon me; it was too much, and I looked round as if for the purpose of retiring. At this moment one of the gentlemen who seemed to eye me with consi-, derable sympathy, stepping up to the throne, whispered something to the lady, and immediately her attendants withdrew. On this I gathered courage, and sinking respectfully on one knee, ventured to address her.

"Most mighty Goddess!,you see before you,

admirers-onë

one of the most humble of your who would esteem it the greatest happiness of his life, were he considered worthy of your patronage. Brought into your presence by circumstances as singular as they were unexpected, I feel myself an unbidden intruder. The dazzling beauty of that heavenly countenance, Madam, first overpowered me, and on perceiving the character of your associates, I shrunk from a happiness I yet coveted: and even now, if my presumption has outstripped my prudence, may I be allowed to withdraw."

She smiled, and descending from her throne, took me by the hand, and lifted me to my feet. I was overwhelmed by her condescension and the inexpressible sweetness with which she spoke, her countenance beaming the utmost kindness.

"You are welcome, sir, and I am very sorry you should feel your situation painful. Your youth interests me, your modesty much more. I have seen your little Volume, with many pieces, in which I am highly pleased; from the difficulties which attended your first attempt, you will have gained experience. Nothing of eminence is ever attained in literature without perseverance, you have much before you, proceed; you have my best, my most affectionate wishes. Reverence religion-be the advocate of virtue, and the enemy of vice-respect the usages of cultivated society-avoid personalities -in all, blend amusement with instruction, and

consequence.

fear not the In this place there is much to see, much that will excite your curiosity, and serve to stimulate you to encreasing exertion. I have ordered a guide to attend you,"-and on a wave of her hand, the same old man whom I first saw, made his appearance from an opposite door. Again kneeling, and devoutly kissing the hand which was held out to me on parting, I retired with my guide.

The old gentleman was very loquacious, and officiously pointed out every thing worthy of notice, as we went along. Among others, I could not help remarking a large board which stood in a conspicuous part of the gallery, on which was written in very legible characters, in a kind of official diction 'Beppo' at V.- The Fudge Family' at VI."Marriage' at VIII.-Blackwood's last Number' during supper. N. B. Tales of my Landlord, second series, 4 vols. has just been received.' These, said my guide, are the subjects of discussion for the Evening, and in like manner the Morning of each day is apportioned."

Moving on, I observed over the entrance to one apartment, in sparkling letters Philosophy,' on another Poetry,' a third History,' a fourth Periodicals.'—I stopped here, and my guide perceiving me slip insensibly towards the latter, my face lengthening a little, he opened the door and we entered." In this room," said he, "you will find a

copy of every periodical Work of merit, since the invention of letters," and truly I was amazed at their prodigious number, "all arranged in the order of their dates." I looked up, and perceiving the labels 1816-17-18, I hastily glanced my eye along, and amid a host of others, perceived The Visitor, Vol. I. The sight enraptured me, and in the agitation that it occasioned, I had in reality got to my feet, for my head came with such a rap against the projecting shutter of my window, that I instantly awoke.

V.

Alas! I thought-'twas but a dream.

DARMANCE AND HERMINIE.

FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME DE GENLIS.

TRANSLATED FOR THE VISITOR.

ONE of the unfortunate pupils of the Abbe de l'Epee, named Darmance, the only son of a gentleman in Normandy, lost his father when about five and twenty years of age, and found himself in possession of a considerable annual income, arising from estates in Normandy, and of a fine house at St. Mandé, near Paris :-In this house he chiefly resided. Darmance, deaf and dumb from his birth, had received from his virtuous instructor all that could contribute to console him for such a misfortune; and it seemed also, as if nature intended to make amends for the want of speech and hearing, by gifts rarely united in the same individual;

a

charming figure, a mind sound and comprehensive, a heart sensible and generous, he was passionately fond of reading, and sketched in a superior style.

He took no pleasure in company; his misfortune he thought condemned him to perpetual solitude. I cannot, he would reflect, correspond with men but by my actions; let me then search for those whom I can serve, such as will be touched and comforted by actions and not by words. The poor, in receiving my benefits, will comprehend those feelings which I cannot express; and the unfortunate whom I cannot succour, will also understand me when I mingle my tears with theirs.

These pleasing ideas consoled the benevolent Darmance. He might possibly have been happy, or at least tranquil, had it not been for the grievous reflection, that his retreat never would be embellished by an amiable female companion. He could not see a beautiful woman without feeling the most painful sensations, nor did he dare to give himself up to the pleasure of regarding her, but with a mind full of anguish :-Ah! he would think, it is not me that she will love.

One fine morning in the month of May, Darmance, after a long walk in the Wood of Vincennis, seated himself at the foot of a tree, his eyes wandering with distraction through an opposite alley, when he perceived a young woman advancing slowly, holding a boy about twelve years of age by the hand. The sight of a woman who appear