"Be my guest, my dearest brother," exclaimed I, warmly clasping his hand. "I cannot feast at another's cost," he replied, "least "of all at my friend's. Do not call this resolution, pride. My poverty is not disgraceful, and casts no stain upon me, so long as it "does not betray me into weakness. I do seek to conceal it from "prejudice; but I know how to act at the right time, as I ought; "and at others, my withdrawing may, as it happens, become the "theme of wonder, praise, or blame. I am thankful for your friend"ship, and I know it will respect both my honor and my secret."

I relate this conversation, because it demonstrates my friend's character, and is connected with the remainder of the adventure.

Without any deviation from friendship, I continued my ridings. before the house of the general's widow, and frequently in Rosowsky's company, who soon began to remark the beautiful fairy of the spell which assailed me.

"Do

We spoke of her, and I always overflowed in idolatrous praise of the noble, admirable creature, till he said to me, and smiling, "Ay! "ay!"-shook his head, and held up his finger threateningly. "not fear." I replied in equal jestingness of humour, all admirer as was, it is indeed a lovely flower, which I may admire with impu"nity, since I feel it does not bloom for me."

I

But, my good Rosowsky, he was caught, he shared my admiration, and I remarked, God knows without envy, although I freely own a considerable portion of affection, that the lovely Matilda gradually paid my friend more attention than any one of us had ever shared.--I, in my turn, mimicked to him his playful---ay! ay!---but he fell upon my neck and said,--- "Brother, she is an angel! oh that I could enjoy her company a little nearer, only for ten minutes!"

I reminded him of his circumstances; it might be cruel, but it was sincerely meant, and I was moreover urged by my real zeal for his happiness.

"I will never forget," said he, "the danger in which I stand, "but is it possible for any one to wander in the beams of such a sun "without becoming warm?"

The arrival of the reviewing general, who presided over the district garrisons, at length gave my friend the wished-for happy opportunity. A ball was given by the officers of the garrison, to which all the noble families of the town and the neighbourhood were invited; we went thither in the most glowing expectation, little dreaming what misfortunes threatened us.

We entered the lighted saloon. In the parterres of blooming ladies, rose Matilda von Unstrutt, surrounded by a host of youthful admirers, and, at her side, the rich, the unmarried Count von Hainfels. A brilliant waltz was played from the orchestra; Matilda, as the partner of the Count, flew through the hall, lighter and more graceful than a sylph.

"

Happy man," sighed Rosowsky.

"You may have the same happiness, my friend," said I, “deter

"mined dancers are welcome every where, where dancing is. I will "go before and set you a good example; follow me, and you may "heal your anxiety."

Mingling in the variegated and joyous whirl of the dancers, I lost sight of Rosowsky for a time, till I saw him in the circle at the side of Matilda. All eyes followed them in astonishment, some perhaps envying the happy pair, who appeared to be borne through the circling maze in the transports of the most unsullied joy. Both revelled in the extacy of the moment; and Rosowsky, who lingered by Matilda when the dance was over, appeared, in the delicious proximity, to have forgotten every thing. I watched the general's widow, who fixed a very serious gaze upon the young couple; the Count von Hainfels also had an uncommonly long face, and did not appear, by any means, to relish the young Hussar's vivacity. It did not escape me that he soon afterwards fell into conversation with the Captain, who was the sonin-law of the widow, and appeared exceedingly earnest; and that the latter drew up his eyebrows with a most supercilious glance. Let them rage, thought I, beauty is not destined only to rank and riches. Being challenged by some of my comrades, I went into an antichamber, and was drinking a glass of champaign when Rosowsky came in to seek me with a face that foreboded nothing good,

(TO BE CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.)

ΤΟ

RESIGNED AND UNRESIGNED.

ON HEARING OF HER MARRIAGE.

How quickly thou hast understood that we may live apart! 'Tis true, I did, in words, resign the empire of thy heart; But, looking into mine alone, how little could I tell

That when I said, "forget our love," thou wouldst obey so well!

So! while I gave thee back the vows which might have made me blest,
And said I would control the love that once my lips exprest,
Those flattering words to thee were all that could my mind disclose;
Thou didst not see how high my heart against the falsehood rose!

It was unalterable love which nerved me with the power

To speak the fatal words that wove the anguish of this hour:
I did not dream that, 'twixt us two, disunion could be wrought,
And what affliction it might bring had never cross'd my thought.

And it was right that we should try to love each other less-
But was it well to find so quick, so easy a success?
Yet can I wonder that to thee my heart was not more plain,
Ah! did I know, myself, till now, the love it could contain !

I said I would not have thee share my dark and lowly state;
I said I could rejoice to hear thou hadst a happier fate;
And do I not rejoice, then, now? and does my heart repine?
Oh! let it break with any grief but that of causing thine!

To tremble when a thought of thee comes o'er my lonely soul;
To find in memories of thee my darkest moments roll;
To shudder if I chance to dream thy heart with mine may beat,
And feel that to possess thy love would make my ills completé:

All this is now my destiny-it is a fearful change!
Methinks it would subdue me more if it were not so strange;
As yet, I seem to weep for woes I can scarce understand,
Told in the tongue of some remote, some new discovered land!

HINTS ON THE SCIENCE OF DREAMING.

MR. EDITOR,

I think you will be disposed to admit, that general science has been an infinite gainer, by having separate enquirers to different branches of information. Indeed, it cannot be denied, that a much more close and accurate knowledge must of necessity be arrived at, by philosophical observers limiting themselves to particular subjects of enquiry, pursuing them with multiplied experiments, and consequently with a more keen perception of the proper and applicable methods of investigation. I have no doubt but you will consider this a sufficient apology for my troubling you with the results of a very long series of experimental observations and researches, on a particular branch of our mental economy, I mean on the phenomena of Dreaming. These remarks are, I think, peculiarly my own; and while one man justly obtains approbation for successful contrivances for the promotion of the moral and physical comfort of man, while he is awake, I hope to claim some share of support, for furthering the same benevolent designs for my fellow men, while they are asleep.

Apart from any of the solemn, though albeit moral, reflections with which a contemplation of sleep very naturally inspires us, it has been my design to view it in relation only to our present comfort, to the positive pains and pleasures we are involuntarily called to undergo, by that mental operation and play of the fancy, called Dreaming. It cannot, by any thinking man, be considered as a trifling matter, or as one with which we have no other concern, than to speculate upon the causes, and laugh at the effects. I have now been a dreamer for fifty years, man and boy, and what have I not endured, what misery have I not been called upon passively to suffer, what horrors of the Inquisition have I escaped; moreover, what delights have not refreshed my soul, during the thirty years of that time, which have been passed in sleep? Devoured by lions-danced with angelsroasted by cannibals-revelled with princes-fire-witchcraft— flying--paradise-sorrow-marriage and death!

I have no intention to explain my views of the metaphysical part of this subject, which I have for years endeavoured to analyze, and reduce to rules by personal experiment; whether dreams are to be accounted for by the ordinary laws of imagination and association; or whether the theories of Hobbes, Hartley, or Bishop Newton be the more correct, or agreeable to my experience, I need not now explain. It is sufficient for my purpose, that we do dream, and that all agree, that these phantasms are intimately connected with our physical and corporeal sensations. By a liberal and philosophical attention to my hints, I do not hesitate to affirm, that you, or any of your readers, may control the character of your dreams, rendering them agreeable, or at least neutralize them, thus freeing yourselves from the bondage and despair of resigning your bodies and souls to your beds, uncertain of the tortures and exasperations of the coming night.

Some half-informed physiologists, with whom my experience is entirely at variance, have attributed much of our unpleasant kinds of dreaming to repletion of blood in the sinuses of the brain, and other gabble of the like kind. I say, after experience without end, it has no more to do with disorganization of the circulation of the brain, than with any other bodily ailment. The chief cause, on the contrary, of all this imagery, being a derangement of the sinuses of the stomach and digestive organs, or all or any of the untold sinuosities of our alimentary canal. What! am I to be told of blood in the brain, when a veal cutlet in the stomach will any day cast me down, and raise twenty devils on my ruins? Am I to be referred to phrenological circulation, when a basin of mock turtle soup, half an hour before going to bed, will raise, as if in revenge, a thousand sires of the calves from which it was made, by whom I am hunted and gored, breathless and agonized, until day break?

All the worst kinds of dreamings which occur to persons not absolutely racked by a fever, are, as my experience tells me, the results of indigestion, and of overloaded viscera; dulcia se in bilem vertent. Only call to mind, Mr. Editor, your last touch of incubus. You had dined at eight; you never had a better dinner; the removes good-the dishes various-the sauces-how blest was your friend in his cook! You got into bed. Do you remember the hag, whose rags and bones weighed at least a thousand stone, how relentlessly she perched on your breast? Of what avail were your sighs, your groans, your guttural exorcisms? There vanquished soup, there shone the glory of paté a la perigord-there lobster sauce triumphed. Oh for blue pill, as a physical, as well as moral, antithesis to blue devil! Let every man who has the night-mare, eat less, and sleep on his side. If he already eats little, and has it, be he assured he eats too much, or wants salts. I, who know these truths, have not had the nightmare these ten years; but set me down the last thing at night to a venison pasty, and for four hours after I got to bed, I should literally have to fight for breath and temporal salvation!

What sometimes happens in very great degrees, happens more commonly in less. Nature, Providence, Abernethy, and Dreaming, are all against clogging and turnpiking the interior. People, in general, really have no idea at what a sacrifice they guttle; I mean, even in what is called moderation. Let every gentleman, and every lady too, when they arise after anxieties and terrors of the night indescribable, fevered and distracted, let them cultivate the grace of self-examination, on the subject of cooks, cookery, and eating. Let them honestly ask of themselves, with the fear of the night before their eyes, what did I eat, what did I drink, yesterday? Multitudes, I have no doubt, in bitterness of heart, have been led to question Providence and the gospel, and to covet death, owing to that exacerbation of spirit, produced by the endless tortures of repletion, awake or asleep, in bed or out of it. I have sometimes in the night watches, when high and solemn imagery peculiarly impresses us, (mine however is always of a pleasant character,) reflected on the state of suffering