CHAPTER I.

ENGLAND.

Farewell to the land where in childhood I wandered!

MOORE.

My native land-good night!

LORD BYRON.

Travelling in youth is part of education.

BACON.

In a room strewed over with the usual elegant English litter of music, books, prints, cabinets, old china, new nick-nacks, musical instruments, and innumerable pieces of furniture-so that a foreigner, accustomed only to the immoveable tables and chairs of continental saloons, might, on first entering, be puzzled to guess whether he was in a drawing room, a music room, a china shop, or an upholsterer's show room ;—in this truly English apartment, were seated two young ladies--one of whom seemed intent upon her drawing,--the other, after a long silence, threw down her book-one of the innumerable new "Travels in Italy," and started up, exclaiming,

VOL. I.

Breathes there a girl, with soul so dead,
Who never to herself has said,

I'd like to see some foreign land-
Whose heart has ne'er within her burn'd,
As fast the chariot wheels have turn'd,
To bear her to a distant strand?
If such there be, go mark him well-

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Her I mean "but why mark her well ?--I'm sure she can't be worth marking or remarking at all. What comes next, Georgiana ?"

The wretch, concentred all in self,

Living, shall forfeit fair renown.

"But how could such a wretch ever have any renown to forfeit ?"

"Why, Caroline," exclaimed her sister, laughing, "how can you, of all people, attempt to parody those beautiful lines that I have heard you repeat a hundred times, with such enthusiasm--spouting after them

O Caledonia! stern and wild!

Meet nurse for a poetic child!

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood!
Land of the mountain and the flood!
Land of my sires!

"No," exclaimed Caroline, "but now I exclaim,"

O Italy! serene and mild!

Meet nurse for a romantic child!
Land of the classic field and flood!

Land of the great, the brave, the good;
Land-

"Not of my sires-but of my desires."

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Caroline, Caroline! you have certainly lost your wits," said her sister, laughing.

"You are too flattering, my dear Georgiana, for I could not lose my wits, without having wits to lose a supposition which is highly complimentary-any more than the wretch could forfeit renown, without having renown to forfeit."

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Well, you really amaze me-I can understand people's delight in returning to their country-but not in leaving it. If all these raptures

had been about visiting America, your native country"

"America my country! I an American! You might just as reasonably call a man a Turk, because he happened to be born at Constantinople, as call me an American because I came into the world in some queer corner of Canada. What! because my father happened to be fighting against the Americans when I was born-which was the cause of my being born in their vile country--is that a reason for my being an American ?"

Some reason there

"I am sure I don't know. must be for your being so very extraordinaryso very unlike every body else. Now, you may be like an American for aught I know, for I know nothing about them, but you certainly are like nothing that I do know,--nothing earthly."

"Nothing earthly! then I hope I am like something heavenly," said Caroline laughing; "but then, if I am something heavenly, I must be something immaterial; so, after all, the compliment is not so great."

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Something, if not quite spiritual," said Georgiana, "at least very spirituelle ;-you know old M. Le Comte de Blacquiere used always to say, that Miss Caroline St. Clair vas la personne du monde la plus spirituelle.”

"Yes, and mamma used always to tell me, for fear he should make me vain-The Count only means, by "spirituelle," that you have great spirits, child. Don't fancy he means you have great talent.' But I would much rather have the one than the other; for, in my opinion, good spirits are far more desirable than great talents.'

"But you have great spirits at all times though seriously, Caroline, I am astonished how you can have such spirits now, when you are on the eve of leaving your friends and your country."

"And seriously, Georgiana, you talk as if I was going to Botany Bay,-instead of going to take the tour of Europe; going, at last, to see those enchanting scenes which I have read of, heard of--dreamed of-longed for years to behold. Of all sorts of affectation, I do most cordially hate the affectation of sentiment. I shall leave my "country," as you pathetically term it, with the utmost insensibility--the most hard hearted indifference. And pray what should I bemoan myself about? Charles is at school, Fanny is at school, and you--if I had been going to leave you, indeed, at home and alone, it would have been widely different. But it is you who are going to leave me, and for ever!"

Here her voice faltered, her countenance changed, and she seemed, for a moment, to struggle with some suppressed feeling. But the smile beamed again over her cheek and eye, and with renewed spirit she exclaimed-" But, before I go, I shall see you married to the man you love; I shall see you in the possession of the happiness it has been the wish of my heart you should enjoy. You know how I should have rejoiced in your marriage, even had I been left without you at home and alone. But what would home have been to me then? How lonely, how blank, how cheerless it would become without you the companion of my days and hours, of my thoughts and pleasures! But, as it

is, I have nothing to regret in leaving home, except my mother;-and my mother". "And my mother!"

"And my mother, Georgiana-you knowI may say so to you-that she will not miss me much. She will go on leading the same life of gaiety, and enjoy it far more than when she had to push me on, and show me off, and annoy herself about my being fashionable and admired -and getting married; for that is the plain English of it all. And-O Georgiana! it is impossible to tell you what a relief it is to escape being hawked about in that manner."

;

"Nay, I am sure you never have been hawked about; you never would. All my poor mamma's ingenious contrivances to show you offor hook you on to certain young "desirables" you are sure most undutifully to circumvent, with all the apparent unconscious simplicity in the world. And as for your accomplishments, I am sure you might as well have none-as far as the display of them goes. You never play or sing in public, and so far from exhibiting your knowledge in society, I must say for you that you do nothing but talk nonsense.

"A most rare and valuable accomplishment," said Caroline, laughing, "you know it is only people of sense that can talk nonsense welland I am sure it is better to talk it in any style, than to talk wisdom. There is nothing half so stupid as perpetually descanting about literature, and science, and learning, as people do in these days. I don't know whether

A little learning is a dangerous thing,

"But I am sure it is a very tiresome thing."

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