gistracy. Those factions tore the corporation to pieces for several years, till at length they came to this accommodation, that the two bailiffs of the town should be annually chosen out of the two clubs, by which means the principal magistrates are at this day coupled like rabbits, one fat and one lean.' Now we may be quite sure, without knowing the parties, that this ill-assorted junction was productive of eternal dissension. That the worshipful bench was at loggerheads. How could it be otherwise? could it be endured that a lank scare-crow should rattle his bones in the ears of a brother magistrate that, without straining a button, could button six men in his waistcoat? Such contrarieties cannot co-exist. It is a fact well known in natural philosophy, that where the sphere of attraction ends, repulsion begins. Fat and lean are antagonist powers. What connexion, for instance, can the half-starved and slender curate have with the doublechinned and portly bishop? What, among churchmen, have Pharaoh's lean kine to do with the episcopallystalled ox? It is certainly most desirable, not only that persons whose mortal mould partakes of the same common properties, should herd together, but that those whose intellectual materials are of similar compound should keep aloof from all those with whom they have by nature no common relation. Individuals of the same party, and of the same opinions, whether in religion or politics, should live as much as possible in a circle of their own. It is fit that whigs should associate with whigs-tories with tories-and that honest men should keep apart from both as having no affinity with either. Such should be the rule of classification in the world of politics. In the theological world, let sectarians, of whatever class, stand or fall by their order. Let the saints keep to their communion. Let methodists congregate with methodists, and be left to fleece and fool their followers in their own way. Let us leave these fanatical belligerents in the warfare against morality, to go canting on in their path Zion-wards as it best may suit their pockets and their purpose; for what after all is the society of methodists but a religious club on a large scale, in which the stewards of the mysteries get their meals free cost? So strong an advocate am I for the establishment of clubs and club-houses, that not only would I have them instituted for persons of similar characters and pursuits, but for all individuals having the same organic defects. For example if those who stammer and stutter in their speech had their own conversazionés from which all were excluded that did not boggle at every third word what a blessing it would be. Each would be indulgent to his own defect in the person with whom he was discoursing, and instead of holding an irritable and impatient neighbour by the button-hole, he would be listened to by every one with delight; each of the company being rejoiced to find another that hesitated and sputtered more than himself. It is a wise contrivance that brings men together, who bear each others infirmities with a noble tranquillity. What an endless source of mutual consolation would it be were all who have the ill-fortune to be hunch-backed to form themselves into a society? What better denomination than The Crumpt Brothers? Every member of the convention by courtesy a lord! an aristocracy of humps! Surely such a fraternity is worthy a club-house at the west-end. There would be infinite philosophy in such an institution. It is either Pope or Swift, I forget which, that gives an account of The Society of Short Fellows, who combined to keep up the dignity of littleness against the assumed pre-eminence of men of taller stature. They had the door of the club-room made so low as to admit no man above five feet high without brushing his fore-top. The day of their institution was in December on the shortest day of the year, on which day they held an annual feast over a dish of shrimps. Now to my thinking, there is much sound sense in all this. How much better is it that those only should meet who thus keep one another in countenance, and who are made happy and contented by the exclusion of all humiliating contrast? As to our modern club-houses, magnificent as they are, I have no taste for them. The naval and military may melt their United Service into one mass without the dead weight becoming one atom lighter, or our wooden walls a jot more secure. Such clubs are but holy alliances on a small scale. There is, however, one class of parliament men and politicians whom I could wish would form themselves into an association; I mean the trimmers, who were they to elect SIR ROBERT PEEL as their president, would present in his person a fair specimen of the order. The members would be of the class so well described by DRYDEN in his epilogue to the Duke of Guise: Nor whigs nor tories they-nor this nor that Not birds nor beasts, but just a kind of bat, A twilight animal, true to neither cause, With tory wings, but whigish teeth and claws. This class of politicians, so long as no adequate enticement calls them aside. keep on the even tenour of their way, and thus gain a character for consistency, but wherever the road divides they never fail to take that which leads to the bestwatered pastures. I mean at some future day to employ myself in drawing up a set of rules and regulations by which a club of this description-and of certain others which I am desirous to set on foot-may be best conducted. I had intended to have forwarded them with the enclosed, but the prevailing dread of cholera morbus has grains. Having got each their trough filled, the storm will be appeased and they will hereafter dwell together in unity. As for us of the swinish multitude, we shall have the public burden shifted from the right shoulder to the left, and be sent home to read the reformed liturgy in thankfulness and peace. S. EVENING IN ITALY. BY MISS PARDOE. IT is a lovely evening-o'er the sky Bears on its wave that last and lingering ray, Yet sheds its brightness on the water's breast. How glorious is the scene! this is the hour When young hearts beat with passion; and the pow'r Wakens glad echoes on the listening earth When dance and song are sweetest! Look on them The merry dancers-neither gold nor gem Sparkle in that gay group; but flashing there And smooth, (as hers, who won with woman-wile Wreathed with their long black tresses, mingle there; EVENING IN ITALY Engraved by Cha. Castle from a Vuinting by Cande Dorraine. to the ROYA! LADYS MAGAZINE. and Published by How glorious is the scene! Far as the eye A holy convent stands; the choral strain They turn in reverence towards that convent dim, And with clasped hands, and lips whence smiles have fled, 'Tis done the prayer is said—again are met And twilight steals full many a scene from view, ALSINGHAM. "Look upon this face, Examine every feature and proportion, And you with me must grant this rare piece finish'd; Brake suddenly the mould in which 'twas fashion'd. THE Alsinghams were an old, respectable, and wealthy family; one of the name had been a courtier, but it was in the reign of the first Charles, and since that period all political and courtly ambition had been extinct in his descendants. The hall was a venerable old structure, with its deeply-set windows, huge doors, and lengthy galleries, in one of which figured all the Alsinghams, from the doughty founder of the family, and his closely-garbed and piouslooking dame, to its last representative and his more courtly lady, in the undress costume of eighteen hundred and -; but I hate dates-they identify too much, and enable the over-curious reader, with but a slight knowledge of the locale, to determine county, race, and identity. Burton Ålsingham, the present possessor of the domain and independence of his family, had early in youth induced his too indulgent father reluctantly to yield to his deep and settled wish of passing over to the continent, for the purpose of receiving his education in a college of Jesuits; in an evil hour did he comply. Burton had ever been a sad and a silent boy, and his very selection of such a home for his youth, in preference to the smiling one in which his mother presided, bespoke the waywardness of his mood, and the gloom of his |