objects are more distressing than to contemplate one of these garlanded victims, gradually withering like a rose upon its stalk, shedding the leaves of her beauty one by one, and at last falling to the earth in premature decay, or preserving a drooping existence, with all her charms and brightness fading utterly away. These are the blooming virgins yearly sacrificed to the Minotaur of Luxury, which, prohibiting all marriages in a certain class of life, that are not sanctioned by wealth, debases one sex by driving it to licentiousness, and dooms the other to become a pining prey to unrequited affections and disappointed hopes.

Never have I been more painfully awakened than when, in the dead silence of midnight, I have been startled by a peal of "triple bob-majors," which, in performing their foolish ceremony of ringing out the old year, send forth their inappropriate echoes into the universal darkness, and scare the repose of nature with their obstreperous mirth. It is an unhallowed and irreverent mode of solemnizing the twelvemonth's death. It is as if, at the funeral of a deceased parent, a rejoicing chime should suddenly burst like a peal of laughter from the belfry, instead of the sad-slowdeep toll of the single passing bell. These iron tongues should not be allowed to shout out their indecent merriment at a consummation fraught with so many inscrutable mysteries and appalling associations. What! are we cannibals, so to rejoice that a portion of our best friends has been actually eaten up by the omnivorous maw of time? Are we saints and of the elect, so fully prepared for the blow of death that we can carol at

being brought three hundred and sixty-five days nearer to the edge of his scythe ?-Perhaps it may be urged, that these noisy vibrations are rather meant to salute the present than the past year, to celebrate a birth, not a death, to welcome the coming rather than to speed the parting guest; and that upon the accession of a new year, as of a new king, their brazen and courtier-like loyalty finds more delight in the glory which is rising and full of promise, than in that which has just set and can bestow no more. The ancients divided their annual homage with a less obsequious selfishness. Janus, who stood between the two years, gave his name indeed to the first month; but he was provided with a double face, that, by gazing as steadfastly upon past as future time, he might inculcate upon his worshippers the wisdom of being retrospective as well as provident. But Janus was an ancient and a god; had he been a modern and a man, he would have known better !

However it may have been partially misapplied and wasted, the last year may still, perhaps, have materially advanced the sum of human happiness; and as it is impossible to solve this point by an examination of individual evidence, we will decide it by a show of hands. All you who are as much or more discontented with your present lot, than you were twelve months ago, please to hold up your hands.-Heavens! what an atmosphere of palms, gentle and simple, fair and furrowed, cosmeticised and unwashed; what a forest of digits, some sparkling with diamonds, some unadorned, and a whole multitude cinctured

with the wedding-ring!-You, on the contrary, who feel yourseves happier than you were-hold up your hands. Alack! what a pitiful minority! A few youths who left school at the last Christmas holidays, and an equal number of girls who, having dismissed their governesses, are to come out this season. Young and sanguine dupes, enjoy your happiness while ye may: I am not serpent enough to whisper a syllable in your ear that might accelerate the loss of your too fleeting paradise !

THE TWO BRACELETS.

A FARMER General, one Monsieur B,

Who dwelt in France when Louis held the throne,
Lived like a Prince from every trouble free,

Except a wife,-(th' exception's large, I own),

For she was fat as any Marchioness,
And given to extravagance in dress.

One day she bought a pair of bracelets-such
As few but Royal damsels would bespeak;
They cost-I cannot recollect how much,
But they were quite magnificent—unique,—
And having clasp'd them on, away she flies
Off to the Opera to show her prize.

It happen'd that the Queen was there that night,
Just opposite the box that Madam took,
And on the bracelets with intense delight
Frequently look 'd-or else appear'd to look ;
For she took special care to have them seen,
As if on purpose to outvie the Queen.

Soon to the box-door came a Page, attired
In the Queen's proper liv'ry, all in style,
And in the name of Majesty required

One of the bracelets for a little while,
That by her eye she might the pattern take,
And order some of the exact same make.

Off went the sparkling bauble in a trice,
While her rouged cheeks with exultation burn,
As, bowing to the Royal party thrice,

She patiently expected its return;

But when the Queen retired, and none was sent,
Our Dame began to wonder what it meant.

A Lord in waiting soon confirm'd her fears:
"Oh, that pretended Page I've often seen,-
A noted sharper,—has been such for years.

Madam, you're robb'd,—he came not from the Queen :
I knew the rogue, and should have had him taken,
But that he slipp'd away, and saved his bacon."

Boiling with anger, Madam call'd her coach,
And drove to the Bureau de la Justice,
Where with loud tongue, and many a keen reproach
About the shameful state of the police,

She call'd upon the Provost for relief,

And bade him send his men to catch the thief.

Early next morn she heard the knocker's din ;
Her heart beat high, with expectation big,
When lo! the Provost's Clerk was usher'd in,—
A formal consequential little prig,

Who, with a mighty magisterial air,
Hem'd! and began his business to declare.

“Madam, a man is brought to our Bureau,

On whom was found a Bracelet of great cost,

And we are all anxiety to know

Whether or not it is the one you lost;

Wherefore I'll take the other, if you please,
Just to compare, and see if it agrees."

"Dear, Sir, I'm overjoy'd,-'tis mine, I'm sure;
Such a police as our's how few can boast!
Here, take the Bracelet-keep the rogue secure,
I'll follow you in half an hour at most;

Ten thousand thanks-I hope you'll trounce the spark,
Open the door, there, for the Provost's Clerk !"

O! how she chuckled as she drove along,
Settling what pangs the pilferer should feel;
No punishment appear'd to her too strong,
E'en should the wretch be broken on the wheel;
For what infliction could be reckon'd cruel,
To one who would purloin so rich a jewel?

Arrived at the Bureau, her joy finds vent:

"Well, Mr. Provost, where's the guilty knave? The other Bracelet by your Clerk I sent,

Doubtless it matches with the one you have;
Why, then, outstretch your mouth with such surprise,
And goggle on me thus with all your eyes?"

"La! bless me, Ma'am, you 're finely hoax'd-good lack!
I sent no Clerk, no thief have we found out,
And the important little prig in black

Was the accomplice of the page no doubt ;—
Methinks the rascals might have left you one,
But both your Bracelets now are fairly gone!'
!"