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with the consent, but advice of all my friends. We have now been married two months, during which time my good man hath constantly studied my happiness, so far as to give my will an unlimited indulgence, and to anticipate even my very wishes: to crown all, he has flaitered my understanding by consulting me on every occasion. Would you think it possible, Sir, for a woman to be unhappy with such a partner ? but such is my fate. As soon as I found myself secure of his love and his confidence, I thought it the very nick of time to put in practice my old crabbed aunt's instructions for the management of a husband. To try his temper, it was easy to trump up a dispute about a cap or a fiddlestick, in which i 'determined to get the better: I treated his difference of opinion with contempt; called it a designed affront to me; and in my warmth, ventured to tell him I was sorry I married him.

The mischief my rashness has done me, is apparent in the reserve he has.treated me with ever since: he endeavours to stifle his anguish, but his very soul is wounded, and he cannot hide it. To save appearances, he continues to treat me with civility, nor will his generosity or his pride suffer me to want, or long to wish for any thing ; but alas! where is his love? where is his confidence! Tell me but how I shall recover both, and you will make me Your ever obliged Friend,


As our fair correspondent seems sensible of her indiscretion and rashness, in attempting to try a temper, with which she had such abundant reason to be satisfied, the best step she can now take is to make an ingenuous acknowledgment of it; and there is no doubt but her husband will be glad to find that petulancy feigned and counterfeit, which (from its being so ill-timed), certainly gave him too much reason to fear was real. By this open, generous behaviour, Cleora will most probably regain the love and confidence, which she seems to be so much alarmed at the loss of; and her own goodness of heart, it is hoped, will in future render her worthy of the man who appears to have made her happiness his study, but who has at the same time proved (which must give her pleasure on reflection), that he is not easily to be made a dupe of.

To the Printer.-If the following anecdote of Christina, the celebrated Queen of Sweden, appears calculated for the entertainment of your readers, it is at your service.


When Christina came into France, a little time after her abdication, she usually appeared in the habit of a man ; having a temper and genius considerably above her sex, and possibly being subject to the general weakness of great minds, a passion for singularity. The lustre of her reputation drew a prodigious concourse after her every where; and in particular the ladies were continually pressing to see a woman who could resign the power and splendour of a crown for the sake of retirement and philosophy.

Christina bore this torrent of feminine curiosity for a long time with much fortitude; but when she came to Fontainbleau, it rushed upon her with so resistless an impetuosity, that she lost all patience, and exclaimed, What! I suppose the ladies flock about me in this manner because I am so like a man!

Brunswick, July 22.--A trooper who had got a furlow to go to see his father, put up lately at the Kiewitzdam inn; at midnight some people assaulted the door of his room, threatening him with instant death if he refused to open it. The trooper got out of bed, and laying hold of his sabre, wounded one of the assailants in the arm; upon which three others ran away. Going down to the kitchen, he found the landlady and the maid servant lying with their throats cut, and the landlord bound hand and foot. When he went to his father's house, he was told that his father had received a wound in the arm with a sabre, and going up to the bed-side, he found him to be the very man he had wounded the preceding night. He expressed his horror and surprise in such a manner, that the affair reached the ears of a magis' trate, who ordered the father and his accomplices to be seized.

Impromptu, on a lovely Mother kissing her Child.

While Fanny kiss'd her infant child
“ You bite my lip,” she cry'd, “ my dear."
The smiling child, though half afraid,
Thus to her beauteous mother said,
“ With me, mama, pray do not quarrel,
I thought your lip had been my coral.”

A remarkable Cure of Delirium by Music.—A famous musician, a great composer, was seized with a fever, which having increased daily, became continued. On the seventh day he fell into a very violent delirium, accompanied with shrieks, tears, panics, and a perpetual wakefulness, almost without any intermission. On the third day of his delirium, one of those natural instincts which, it is said, make the brute animals when sick to seek the herbs that are proper for them, made him ask to hear a little concert in his chamber. ,' It was with great difficulty that his physician consented to it. From the first tunes he heard, his countenance assumed a serene air, his eyes were no longer wild, the convulsions.ceased absolutely, he shed tears of pleasure, and had then for music a sensibility, that he never had before, nor haih'any longer now he is recovered. He was free from the fever during the whole concert, and

as soon as it was finished, he relapsed into his former condition. Upon this they did not fail to continue the use of a remedy, whose success had been so unforeseen, and so happy; the fever and delirium were always suspended during the concerts, and music was become so necessary to the patient, that at night he made a kinswoman that waked with him to sing, and even to dance. One night particularly, when he had nobody with him but his nurse, who could sing nothing but a vile ballad, he was obliged to be content with that, and found some benefit from it. At length, in ten days, music had entirely cured him, without any other aid than that of bleeding him in the foot, which was the second time of his being blooded, and was followed by a large evacuation.

Mr. Dodart related this history, into the truth of which he had carefully examined : he did not mean that it could serve for an example, or a rule; but it is curious enough to see how in a man, whose very soul, as one may say, was become music, by a long and continual habitude, concerts had restored by degrees to the animal spirits their natural course. It is not probable that a painter could be cured in like manner by paintings; painting hath not the same power as music on the motion of the animal spirits, and no other art probably can equal it in this point. ·

It is with great pleasure we inform the public, that the counterpane and curtains of the royal

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