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and good neighbours, I am gratified by the hope of becoming better acquainted with you." She then saluted her enraptured victim with an enchanting smile, and disappeared.

M. Schustler, was in a transport of joy. He was half frantic with the excess of pleasure, this accident had afforded him, and his confident anticipations of the future happiness he might enjoy in the society of the lovely Saulnier. This was the name contained in her passport, and under this assumed appellation, she was destined in a short time, to make dreadful ravages in the heart of the unsuspecting M. Schustler.

Early the next day, he paid a visit to his captivating neighbour. On seeing him leave his house, she placed herself at her piano; resolved to make use of every stratagem, and all the means of seduction, to secure her prey.

"Madam," said he on entering, "I have once already disturbed your slumbers; do not suffer me now to interrupt your amusements. Yesterday, I was charmed with your beauty, and now the delightful tones which I hear, thrill me with ecstasy."

"Have done with your flattery, neighbour, the manners of the country should be as simple as nature, whose images they should always reflect."

"Nay, madam, do not mistake my honesty for deceit-my soul is unsullied by artifice or falsehood. I always frankly speak what I think, without any disguise; and therefore I cannot now refrain from expressing the feelings of my heart. A few words more, and you shall judge whether an impostor would have acted as I have done. Scarcely four and twenty hours have passed, since I first beheld you; and if any cause whatever should compel me to relinquish the favourable sentiments with which you have inspired me, I hardly know whether I should have fortitude enough to survive the disappointment. And yet I am a father-yes! I am a tender and affectionate father."

As he said this, tears gushed from his eyes. Madam Saulnier, who was resting on her piano, experienced a feeling which was undefinable; for till now, her heart had been a stranger to such emotions. In her perturbation, she knew not how to reply. The language she had heard, and the unaffected sincerity with which it was uttered, produced an agitation in her bosom which

it had never felt before. Her eyes were intently fixed on Mons. Schustler. Never had she seen a man whom she so much admired. Her heart already confessed him the most engaging, and the most accomplished of his sex.

"Come, sir," said she, in a tone of captivating sweetness, "you shall remain and breakfast with me-you have delighted me to an excess, amounting almost to pain. How much do I regret that our acquaintance had not been formed at an earlier period!"

Encouraged by these tender expressions, M. Schustler replied" Lovely Saulnier! the passion I feel for you needs not to boast of its duration-it is enough that it is irresistibly and for ever fixed in my bosom."

During breakfast, the conversation turned on the delights of friendship. On taking his leave, M. Schustler said to her" If you are not displeased with the acquaintance of one who feels for you more than a common interest, I will presume, madam, to solicit the happiness of receiving you at my house, at this hour tomorrow."

"Your invitation, sir, is so flattering, and its manner so persuasive, that I cannot refuse to accept it."

Left alone to herself, madam Saulnier began to examine the state of her heart, as regarded her new lover. She did not pretend to resist or to dissemble her feelings. She often said to herself, as she has since acknowledged “ I came hither a treache rous seducer—and lo! I am myself seduced." The change she underwent in consequence of her new attachment, was no less sincere and permanent, than it was sudden. She became ashamed of the part she had been bribed to act, and of the odious commission with which she was charged. "I wish to be contented with myself—I will not, therefore, consent to be the instrument of deceiving this generous and noble-minded man. I will, to-morrow, disclose to him, who I am; and what I have been."

She was received by Mons. Schustler, as if she had been an angel sent from heaven. He presented to her his young daughter, and rapturously exclaimed: "Behold, madam, the child, which before I had seen you, was to me the dearest object on earth.→ Hereafter, when I see you together, I shall consider that in you

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two, all the blessings of this world are united." Madam Saulnier overwhelmed the child with caresses. It may be supposed they were sincere, for she fondly imagined in the delirium of her feelings, that she was lavishing them on the father. She had fully resolved to open her whole heart to her amiable neighbour, in the evening-but when the moment arrived, her heart failed her. In one of her letters to Paris, she thus expresses herself:

"In the absence of M. Schustler, I feel the courage and intrepidity of a lion, and as if I could freely disclose to him all my failings and all my various intrigues-but in his presence, I am no longer the same creature-my fortitude forsakes me and I am unable to think of any thing but himself."

For two long months, did our lovers remain in this perplexing state of uncertainty. At length the importunity of Mr. Schustler, produced an ecclaircissement to this distressing dilemma.— One day, after dinner, having expressed to her in the most animated terms, the sincerity of his passion, he continued

"If my lovely friend be as free as myself-if her heart own no engagement-and if my person and my fortune are not despised-let her frankly avow her sentiments. If they be propitious to my wishes, she shall in two days become my wife, the mother of my child, and the author of my happiness."

"Before I reply to your generous and honourable proposal, permit me, my dear friend, to unfold to you my whole heartAre you not afraid of regretting your choice? Do you know who I am?"

"Hold, madam; only suffer me to ask if you are free from any engagement.”

"Most assuredly I am; as free as the winds."

"Have you no dislike to my person? May not my young daughter appear to you a troublesome charge?"

"Your daughter a charge! I will be to her the most affectionate of mothers. And as for you, my dear Schustler, I will no longer pretend to conceal my sentiments. I candidly confess that I love you."

"And I," rapturously exclaimed the transported lover, "I adore, I idolize you. In the mean time, I want no further confessions, no more acknowledgments. If what you are about to

say is intended to recommend yourself to my esteem, you may spare yourself the trouble-nothing can make me love you more sincerely than I now do-if, on the contrary, you have been guilty of indiscretions, it will be worse than useless for me now to know them. Nothing can lessen the ardent passion I feel for you.Thou lovely object of all my wishes-I desired only the confession of one secret-that most precious one has escaped you. I am satisfied."

Eight days after this, she received the hand of M. Schustler, at the foot of the altar. The commission with which she had been charged by the French government, remained as yet unexecuted. She spoke of the author of the manuscript, and of his arrest, as of a circumstance which had come to her knowledge by mere accident.

"What!" said her husband," Have you then heard of my friend's misfortune? I too, was exposed to the most imminent danger by that cursed business. It was to me he confided the fatal manuscript only a few days before his arrest, but on the first intimation of his seizure, I committed it to the flames."

His wife made no further inquiries—she immediately wrote to the principal agent concerned in her mission, acquainting him with the circumstances, and assuring him that his imperial majesty might make himself perfectly easy in regard to this affairshe had ascertained that the memorial had been destroyed, and the emperor had nothing to fear.

Under various pretences, she excused herself to her employers for not returning to France; having found, as she said, in Bohemia, a degree of happiness which her own country could not afford her.

Her confidential friend in Paris, who is now blind, and residing with her, was directed to dispose of all the effects of madam Schustler; and she executed her orders with fidelity. It was from this friend that most of the particulars of this singular adventure have been obtained.

Thus was happily terminated an affair, commenced under auspices not the most favourable to the parties concerned,—and thus, a lovely and accomplished woman, who had long regretted her aberrations from the paths of virtue, was restored to the enjoyment of respect and happiness.

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FOR THE PORT FOLIÓ.-RURAL ECONOMY.

Horse-rake. This is a valuable implement of recent invention. The construction of it is so simple, that any one who has the least mechanical turn, may make it. Into a piece of scantling three by four inches, and twelve feet in length, insert at equal distances, fourteen teeth longitudinally, each of one foot in length. Introduce eight or ten perpendicular pins into the scantling, and attach to it in the centre, two handles resembling those of a plough. The horse is connected by chains, or ropes, fastened to each end of the scantling, uniting at proper distance, by a clevis and swingletree. With this instrument, one man will perform, in half the time, the service which ordinarily requires six or eight to accomplish. It is also usefully employed in gleaning grain fields; an average of one bushel per acre, has been ascertained to be the saving, from the experience of several respectable far

mers.

Trench ploughing. After the soil has been exhausted by se. veral previous crops, the trench plough may be used with great success. Indian corn has been much improved by this mode of cultivation, as a substratum of fresh soil is thus introduced to its roots, which enables the smaller fibres to expand more widely.

Stock. We are gratified in observing an increased attention among our farmers to the improvement of their stock. It is, however, a subject by no means sufficiently attended to. In England, domestic animals have, by observation and experience, been divided into classes, highly advantageous to that country. Thus, for instance, the horse for the draught, and for speed—the ox for labour, or for the market-the varieties of the cow for the dairy, and the sheep, as valuable for the fleece, or for the butcher. With us, however, these niceties are considered as idle notions, and hence we exhibit in our barn-yards, upon our highways, and in our markets, a most incongruous mixture of animals, whether we regard their size, their uses, or their properties.

Our country, it is true, is in its infancy, compared with the nations of Europe; and necessity, that parent of invention, has not yet driven us to the expedients which various causes have conspired to produce in foreign climes. We nevertheless, aspire to become the greatest among the great communities of human

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