At length the wreath was finished-Mr. Gummage having only sketched it, and washed it, and given it the last touches. It was put into a splendid frame, and shown as Miss Marianne Atmore's first attempt at painting: and every body exclaimed "What an excellent teacher Mr. Gummage must be! How fast he brings on his pupils!" In the mean time, she undertook at home to make the small copy that was to go to China. But she was now ❝at a dead lock," and found it utterly impossible to advance a step without Mr. Gummage. It was then thought best that she should do it at school-meaning that Mr. Gummage should do it for her, while she looked out of the window.

The whole was at last satisfactorily accomplished, even to the gilt star, with the A in the centre. It was taken home and compared with the larger wreath, and found still prettier, and shown as Marianne's to the envy of all mothers whose daughters could not furnish models for china. It was finally given in charge to the captain of the Voltaire, with injunctions to order a dinner-set exactly according to the pattern—and to prevent the possibility of a mistake, a written direction accompanied it.

The ship sailed—and Marianne continued three quarters at Mr. Gummage's school, where she nominally effected another flower piece, and also perpetrated Kemble in Rolla, Edwin and Angelina, the Falls of Schuylkill, and the Falls of Niagara; all of which were duly framed, and hung in their appointed places.

During the year that followed the departure of the ship Voltaire, great impatience for her return was manifested by the ladies of the Atmore family-anxious to see how the china would look, and frequently hoping that the colours would be bright enough, and none of the flowers omitted that the gilding would be rich, and

every thing inserted in its proper place, exactly according to the pattern. Mrs. Atmore's only regret was, that she had not sent for a tea-set also; not that she was in want of one, but then it would be so much better to have a dinner-set and a tea-set precisely alike, and Marianne's beautiful wreath on all.

"Why, my dear," said Mr. Atmore, "how often have I heard you say that you would never have another tea

set from Canton, because the Chinese persist in making the principal articles of such old fashioned, awkward shapes. For my part, I always disliked the tall coffee pots, with their strait spouts, looking like light-houses with bowsprits to them; and the short, clumsy tea-pots, with their twisted handles, and lids that always fall off."

set

"To be sure," said Mrs. Atmore," I have been looking forward to the time when we can get a French teaupon tolerable terms. But in the mean while I should be very glad to have cups and saucers with Marianne's beautiful wreath, and of course when we use them on the table we should always bring forward our silver pots."

Spring returned, and there was much watching of the vanes, and great joy when they pointed easterly, and the ship-news now became the most interesting column of the papers. A vessel that had sailed from New York for Canton on the same day the Voltaire departed from Philadelphia, had already got in; therefore the Voltaire might be hourly expected. At length she was reported below; and at this period the river Delaware suffered much, in comparison with the river Hudson, owing to the tediousness of its navigation from the capes to the city.

At last the Voltaire cast anchor at the foot of Market street, and our ladies could scarcely refrain from walking down to the wharf to see the ship that held the box that

held the china. But invitations were immediately sent out for a long projected dinner-party, which Mrs. Atmore had persuaded her husband to defer till they could exhibit the beautiful new porcelain.

The box was landed, and conveyed to the house. The whole family were present at the opening, which was performed in the dining room by Mr. Atmore himself —all the servants peeping in at the door. As soon as a part of the lid was split off, and a handful of straw removed, a pile of plates appeared, all separately wrapped in India paper. Each of the family snatched up a plate and hastly tore off the covering. There were the flowers glowing in beautiful colours, and the gold star and the gold A, admirably executed. But under the gold star, on every plate, dish, and tureen, were the words, "THIS IN THE MIDDLE!"-being the direction which the literal and exact Chinese had minutely copied from a crooked line that Mr. Atmore had hastily scrawled on the pattern

with a very bad pen, and of course without the slightest

fear of its being inserted verbatim beneath the central ornament.

Mr. Atmore laughed-Mrs. Atmore cried-the servants giggled aloud-and Marianne cried first, and laughed afterwards.

A MIDNIGHT MEDITATION.

BY JOHN D. GODMAN.

'Tis midnight's solemn hour! now wide unfurled
Darkness expands her mantle o'er the world:
The fire-fly's lamp has ceased its fitful gleam,
The cricket's chirp is hushed; the boding scream
Of the gray owl is stilled; the lofty trees
Scarce wave their summits to the failing breeze;
All nature is at rest, or seems to sleep;

"Tis thine alone, oh man! to watch and weep!
Thine 'tis to feel thy system's sad decay,
As flares the taper of thy life away,
Beneath the influence of fell disease:
Thine 'tis to know the want of mental ease
Springing from memory of time misspent ;
Of slighted blessings; deepest discontent,
And riotous rebellion 'gainst the laws

Of health, truth, heaven, to win the world's applause!
-See where the waning moon

Slowly surmounts yon dark tree tops,

Her light increases steadily, and soon
The solemn night her stole of darkness drops:
Thus to my sinking soul in hours of gloom
The cheering beams of hope resplendent come,
Thus the thick clouds which sin and sorrow rear
Are changed to brightness, or swift disappear.
Hark! that shrill note proclaims approaching day;
The distant east is streaked with lines of gray;

Faint warblings from the neighbouring groves arise,
The tuneful tribes salute the brightening skies.

Peace breathes around; dim visions o'er me creep, The weary night outwatched, thank God! I too may sleep.