THE dress à la sauvage was introduced during the revolution in France. The fair wearer had no shift, but wore silk stays in net-work of a flesh colour, so as rather to heighten than conceal her charms.

DURING the peace, or rather the truce of Amiens, Bonaparte seemed delighted to see so many English at Paris; he expressed his satisfaction to the British envoy, and added, "We are the two most powerful and civilized nations in the world. We should unite together to cultivate the arts and sciences, and ensure happiness to the human race." I have been assured, by an aid de camp of Bonaparte, who dined at his table after the signature of the preliminaries of Leoben, that this extraordinary man then said, "So much for the Austrians; the English alone remain. Our perpetual wars with that gallant people are much to be regretted. Why do not the two nations form an alliance, and divide the world between them?"

MONTESQUIEU was fond of reading the Arabian Nights, as a complete relaxation from serious studies. An eminent oriental scholar at Paris expressed to me his surprise at the favour shown to that work in England, not reflecting that, after the productions of Shakspeare, it is the most original and creative work in the whole circle of literature.

A GENIUS, forward and early ripe, seldom, in the end, answers expectation. Virgil has observed the same thing of land, which throws forth corn too strong at first:

Ah! nimium ne sit mihi fertilis illa,

Neu se prævalidam primis ostendat aristis.

GEORG. II. 252.

THE character of a universal scholar is apt to dazzle the sight, and to attract ambition. But a greater progress is made in literature, when every man takes his part, and cultivates that portion thoroughly, with all his powers.

WHEN Milton visited Italy, it is well known that he was violently enamoured with one of the beauties of the south. In more than one sonnet he conveyed to the lady the eloquent expression of his flame. CowPER has admirably translated from the Italian one of these poetical billet-doux. It is addressed to Milton's favourite friend Charles Deodati, and has never before appeared in print in America.

Charles, and I say it wondering, thou must know

That I, who once assum'd a scornful air,
And scoff'd at Love, am fallen in his snare:

Full many an upright man has fallen so.
Yet think me not thus dazzled by the flow

Of golden locks, or damask cheek; more rare
The heart-felt beauties of my foreign fair;
A mien majestic, with dark brows, that show
The tranquil lustre of a lofty mind;

Words exquisite of idioms more than one,
And song, whose fascinating power might bind

And from her sphere draw down the labouring moon,

With such fire-darting eyes, that, should I fill

My ears with wax, she would enchant me still.

THE character of Frederick the Great, as he was called, is now more justly appreciated than by some of his servile courtiers, or French cotemporaries. Dr. Beattie, who had no great reverence for this potentate, has thus branded him:

EPITAPH ON FREDERICK THE GREAT.

[From the French, by Dr. Beattie.]

His every human talent misemployed,
And men at once delighted and destroyed;
Savage in action, but a sage in rhyme,
Each virtue sang, and practised every crime:

The scorn of Venus, but of Mars the pride,
He fill'd his country and the world with strife:
Thousands for him in Honour's bed have died,
But from his own not one e'er sprung to life,

THE following non-descript of the Hibernian breed is said to be no bull, but a horse. An English gentleman, who paid a

visit to Ireland, requested a friend of his in Dublin to lend him a horse; on which he received the following note:

"Dear sir,-Inclosed you have my black horse, and you are welcome to ride him as long as you please."

EPIGRAMS.

Bestride an ant, a pigmy, great and tall,
Was thrown, alas! and got a dreadful fall.
Under th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies,
All torn; but yet, with generous ardour, cries.
Behold, base, envious world, now, now laugh on;
For thus I fell, and thus fell Phaeton.

ON THE PICTURE OF HOPE.

In azure robes is Hope depicted fair,
To signify she feeds her fools with air.
The wiser, by her glittering anchor know
That gold's the surest friend we find below.

ON A MUSICAL LADY AT CALCUTTA.

In Indian realms, ye critics, say,

Of tuneful souls possest,

Where famish'd tigers roam for prey,
Whose music is the best?

The bard's, who, striking vocal strings,
Made beasts attend his lay;

Or hers, which, when she plays and sings,
Would fright even beasts away?