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you're an honest chap!]-Gentlemen, I deeply concerned acknowledge, though none can give to the astonishment, disgust, and indignation regret that circumstances over which I have you a satisfactory reason why he possesses it.of the pretty mother." no control, must preclude the possibility of my Perhaps, however, few of these master-minds How true is our next extract ! becoming a candidate for the honour of your were gifted with the qualities which constitute "Men of superior talents, who have genesuffrages at the ensuing election; but, never- the character in such an eminent degree as my rally ardent imaginations, are much more easily theless, as I trust it is unnecessary for me to friend Ball. He was, in fact, the most com-deceived by women than those of a more ordiassure you, my interest in your welfare and pletely clever fellow I ever met with in his class nary character. Their fancy invests the object happiness is, and ever must be, unabated.of life; not even excepting my own man, Ni- of their admiration with qualities which she [Cheers.] Gentlemen,'-after a pause, in order to judge whether the last resort was necessary, Gentlemen, a barrel of beer will be brought you immediately, and I hope, after you have drunk my health, you will disperse with that sobriety and good order which has always distinguished you.' Tremendous cheering, under cover of which I retired." Popularity is an expensive thing.

The defence of the world is very amusingly managed :

does not possess, and they identify the celestial phantom of which they are enamoured with the frail mortal who is the ostensible object of their love."

There is also truth, and truth most judiciously put, in the remarks on duelling. "Submit the practice of duelling to the test of abstract reason, and its absurdity is palpably manifest. Law hath denounced it with capi tal punishment, and her decree has been abundantly supported by the arguments of the wise and the good. But the manners and prejudices of society have set at nought law, though seconded (as doth not always happen) by religion, morality, and wisdom. And I

cholls, about whom there was rather too much bustle of pretension. The ex-mayor of Pwas likewise endowed with an effrontery which nothing could daunt; and when he was in a jocular mood and knew his company, he could be exceedingly pleasant upon the subject of himself and his conduct. In fact, he was proud of being called a knave; for he said (or it was said for him) that the epithet implied a superior mind; and he was flattered at having his assurance admired, because it was an evidence of "The world has always appeared to me a moral courage. The reader is aware how he most ill-used and long-suffering being. It is used me. It was chiefly by his intrigues that I represented as a monster of vice and folly. Not was deprived of that control over the one seat a crime or absurdity can be committed, but it for P which remained in my family, after must be abused and ridiculed as the author. it had abandoned half of the borough, in order fear that until we approach a little nearer Not a reprobate, genteel or vulgar, can take to strengthen their tenure of the remainder. perfectibility, we must be content to tolerate the road to ruin, but the world must be exe- He then treated with me as a stranger, and the duel, however absurd and iniquitous. It crated as his seducer. It is belaboured weekly took my money, in consideration of which I represses tyranny, for it places the strong and by the parsons, daily by the press in every was duly elected; but because, subsequently, a the weak upon a level. It checks insolence by shape, from the sermon to the play, and hourly more advantageous offer was made by Lord the fear of chastisement; and as the last remby individuals of all sorts and sizes; nay, even Daventry, he hands over, without a moment's nant of chivalry, it must be considered as the many of its own members, who either live on hesitation, the whole concern to that noble guardian of that habit of humanity and courtesy its bounty, or share in its pleasures, will sneer lord. The Havilands, however, who were of behaviour, which it contributed to introduce. at it to its very face. Does the world ever re-versed in every variety of political intrigue, These, it may be said, are arguments drawn taliate, or even murmur under this load of threatened to prove too many for a man who, from expediency, to advocate what is wrong; calumny? Does it ever protest against the however great his ability, was familiar only but this is the age of expediency." hardship of being made responsible for the ini- with provincial practice. They feared, no Our hunting squirearchy are not very favourquities and absurdities of those who are pre- doubt, the personal power of Ball, as having ably depicted; we take one observation. destinated fools and scoundrels? or of having too much the character of an imperium in im- "The conversation at one time turned upon the abuse of the advantages and pleasures perio, and their first measure after getting into a young lady of the neighbourhood, who was which it offers described as its real charac- the borough, was to put a plot in operation, just coming out, and of whom one gentleman teristics? Does it ever insinuate that all the object of which was, to deprive Ball of his expressed himself so warm an admirer, that he the slander with which it is overwhelmed influence, and to vest it in some other person swore he would call his favourite mare after proceeds either from the malice and spleen who should be a mere tool of their own. The her; the highest compliment, I believe, that a of those who have been disappointed in their sagacity of the ex-mayor quickly discerns his sportsman can pay to a favoured one of the speculations upon its good nature and patron-danger, and takes prompt and vigorous mea-other sex. A delicate attention, assuredly, to age, or from knaves and imbeciles, who are sures against it. He sees that the popular have the name of her one admires, and perglad to father their villanies and weaknesses feeling of Phas taken a religious com- haps loves, profaned by the rude lips of grooms upon it? Does it ever complain of the gross plexion, and forthwith he forsakes Dr. Havi- and stable-boys! Dress Lady Georgiana! injustice and bitter spirit of persecution with land's congregation, and sends in his adhesion Take Lady Georgiana to water! Give Lady which all its foibles are searched out, dragged to Lankey, to whose party he is an important Georgiana a feed! Clean Lady Georgiana's to light, and made the theme of every species acquisition. But he takes a step of still greater bed!'" of invective, reproach, and scorn, while a thick importance. He agitates and canvasses actively, In the third volume our young author (for veil is kept carefully drawn over its virtues? and secretly and suddenly raises up the banner young he evidently is, by his warmth,) gets Does it ever vaunt of the admirable policy, by of REFORM, under the very nose of the noble upon political ground: he is a stanch Tory; which it preserves the honour of both sexes-marquess, who starts back at the horrible ap- and it is a good sign for a young man to be making the slightest stain upon the reputation parition, like the Jew in Scott's romance from in earnest, whether right or wrong in his opiof the one an indelible blot; and the smallest the uplifted shield of brawn. Ball's plan was, nions on such matters, which this is no place breach of truth, honesty, or courage, irreparable in fact, nothing less than to open the borough. to decide. Any one can vouch for the graphic in the other? Does it remind its detractors Several attempts to this effect had been made reality of the following "reform scenes." that it gives every facility to improvement, by adventurers, but had been frustrated by submits patiently to chastisement, whether it him, and indeed the scheme was hopeless, while be the terrible scourge of genius, or the feeble he continued to support the corporation intestroke of a puny whipster, and yields a ready rests; but, now that he opposed them, there obedience to the deliberate voice of public opi- was little doubt that he would succeed, supnion? In short, does it challenge its opponents ported as he was by all the town's-people, who, to investigate human nature, and to produce a under the existing system, were deprived of scheme of society which shall secure to man- the elective franchise." kind a greater average of virtue, wisdom, and happiness, than it can afford? So much for the world; which, though I admit, like every thing said of most. human, it is not exempt from faults, is, I must "I here, of course, praised his fine boys,' maintain, upon the whole, of an amiable character, and utterly undeserving of the indiscriminate abuse which is lavished upon it from every side."

The master-mind of a small borough is a clever sketch :

"I believe that most boroughs, both rotten and sound, have a master-mind who manages the matter, and whose influence all the parties

If the ensuing anecdote be not true, at least it is very probable, which is as much as can be

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"In the gossip which always attends any measure of importance, the different reports and assertions which are confidently made respecting its fate are amusing enough. The bill,' says one careful calculator in its favour, will be carried by sixty-five.' 'I know,' says an oppositionist, with equally scrupulous accuracy, that it will be thrown out by a majority of forty-two.' There is to be no division,' affirms a third. Shall you vote for the bill?' said I to a Tory country gentleman. Why, I suppose I must,' answered he; they'll disasked their ages, and addressed the urchins solve if it does not pass, and I can't afford to themselves, awkwardly enough I dare say, stand another election just now; besides, they though I hope in a rather more fortunate say there'll be an insurrection in the country if style than that of an old bachelor of my ac- it is thrown out.' It'll never get through quaintance, who, when a young married lady the Lords,' said one dandy against, to another presented her first-born darling to him for his for the measure. I'll bet you six to fourmeed of admiration, not knowing exactly what thousands,' was the conclusive argument in to say to the poor little gummy wretch, tapped reply. In fact the bill was a very fertile source it under the chin, with Aha, little beast!' of gambling, and it was said that there was as

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"And, cheek-by-jowl, his brother twin,
In all but dulness, Pat Maginn;
Who, though he write the LL.D.
After his name, will never be

much money upon it as upon the Derby. In directed, is, as its writer calls it, "a literary
fact, at the time, this topic superseded every squib." Squib, indeed!-fire and furies, with
other. The spirit of politics forced its way a vengeance! It ought rather to be entitled
even into drawing-rooms, and usurped the the Frazeriad, its vituperation being almost
throne of fashion. Young men talked to their entirely directed towards the magazine bearing
partners with much complacency of their pro- that name, whose personal attacks on Mr.
spects in the scramble which was to take place; Watts have provoked this, in our opinion, ill-
and ladies spoke with alarm of the times, and judged, and, at all events, most ill-placed, re-
the dreadful reform measure. Do you really taliation. It is a bad plan to pursue that very
think there will be a revolution?' inquired a line of conduct which you yourself denounce as
very pretty woman of me, as of one from whom infamous. We always have protested, and al-
she expected authentic information. No doubt ways shall protest, against the personalities now
of it,' was my grave reply. But are you seri- so common in the periodical press, as equally
ous ?' 'I am indeed.' 'And-and what will degrading to their writers and deteriorating to
be the consequences?' rejoined the fair in- literature; and when the abusive attack pro-
quirer, who, having ascertained that there was duces the equally abusive reply, we (avoiding
to be a revolution, now desired to know what the coarser saw touching certain culinary ves-
a revolution was. The consequences,' an- sels) can only quote the old English proverb,
swered I, are too numerous to be detailed. I and say, it is just "pull, devil-pull, baker!"
can only mention a few, which will be among Of the tone of the poem the following extract
the earliest. The opera will certainly be put may serve as a specimen :
down by act of parliament; the patronesses of
Almack's will be dismissed, and their places
filled up by tradesmen's wives; so that, instead
of waltzing with guardsmen, you will be obliged
to content yourself with apprentices, if, indeed,
you are so fortunate as to get a subscription.
So I advise you to make interest betimes in the
proper quarters.' 'I am sure, then, I hope
the odious bill will be thrown out,' said the
lady; who, however, knowing my character,
was not quite sure that I was not quizzing her.
This reminds me of a conversation which at
this period I overheard in the street between
two unwashed artificers,' at the door of a
house where a petition in favour of the minis-
terial measure solicited their signatures. 'I
say, Bill, cans't thee write?' Ah, to be sure
I can,' answered Bill. 'Well, come in and
write thy name to this here purtition for re-
form,' rejoined his companion. Reform!
what the h-ll's that?' 6
Why doesn't thee
know? Reform is that we shall be all lords
and squires; shouldn't thee like to have thy
mississ a lady, and to ride in a carriage, with
nothing to do but eat and drink like a new
one ?'
My eyes! if that's the meaning on't,'
said Bill, I'll sign it fast enough,—if I don't,
I'm blowed!' Accordingly, in they turned,
and scrawled their names on the dirty parch-
ment, which was subsequently presented, with
previous notice, as the great London petition,
signed by a hundred thousand inhabitants."

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We add two or three acute remarks: "A man who is vacillating between contending arguments or inclinations, is glad of a straw to turn the scale."

"Violent and openly profligate natures are not desperate, but the subtile and hypocritical are impracticable."

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"The reputation of a gamester is as fragile as that of a woman."

An occasional coarseness of epithet is a fault with the writer; it is a mistake to think that this is strength. We conclude by saying, that the work is both entertaining and clever; and, moreover, one of those which make us give an author credit for being even cleverer than his book.

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A whit the graver than he is-
Less fond of drunken deevilries,'
Less ready for a vulgar hoax,
Addicted less to pot-house jokes,
And all the rough plebeian horse-play,
He will so oft without remorse play!
Give him a glass or two of whisky,
And in a trice he grows so frisky,
So full of frolic, fun, and satire,
So ready dirt around to scatter,
And so impartial in his blows,
They fall alike on friends and foes;
Nay, rather than his humour balk,
His mother's son he'd tomahawk!
And so he can but set once more
His boon companions in a roar,'
Will scruple not, good-natured elf,
To libel his illustrious self!
A task so difficult, I own
It can be done by him alone!
And yet, to give the devil his due,
He'd neither slander me nor you
From any abstract love of malice,
But only in his humorous sallies;
For of his friends he'd lose the best,
Much rather than his vilest jest!

But for that booby by his side,
Regina's namesake, not her pride,*
That parasitic fish beneath,
That picks its larger brethren's teeth;
Dines in some shark's pestiferous maw,
Sups on a whale's encumbered jaw;
And prone in offal still to wallow,
Bolts what its patrons cannot swallow;
Even so, by garbage fed alone,
Too foul for even Maginn to own,
He builds his pyramid of fame
On ribald jests, without a name;
Sticks to the Standard-bearer's skirt,
And apes his knack of throwing dirt;
Steals his nick-names for every body,
Copies his taste in whisky-toddy!
Retails his jokes with wondrous pains,
And borrows all things but his brains!
Who ventured with the Ensign's backing,
To take the charge, till sent a-packing,
Of Messrs. Treuttel's Foreign Quarterly;
Used Black and Co. so very martyrly;
Then kept the world on tenterhooks,
All waiting for a set of books,
Which they who seldom money stint
Refused to pay for or to print it
And left, though they had given the order,
On hand, in most admired disorder.'
The Theban deep, who undertook
For C. and B. to write a book,
Which, when the manuscript was sent,
Proved in the same predicament!
And that it ne'er could daylight see
Was plain to them as A, B, C.
Therefore he used their firm' ungently,
Colburn reviled, and slandered Bentley;
And like the toad that whispered Eve,
Did fair Regina's ear deceive;
Of rancour full as Bell,+ or fuller,
Suborned attacks on Lytton Bulwer,

Which though he read with vast delight,
Poor as they were, he could not write.
Thus have I seen some blow-fly small,
Over a noble sirloin crawl,

On Giblett's ample counter placed,
Tainting the meat it could not taste;
And thus,-for even the meanest things
Can void their filth and use their stings,-
The veriest vermin of the press
The power of mischief still possess;
For jests inflict a double smart

When some low blockhead points the dart;'
And dirt is dirt, and mud annoys,
Even from a knot of blackguard boys
Collected in the public street,

To run a-muck at all they meet;
Who, as their ordure round they scatter,
And every decent coat bespatter,
Conceive themselves the more's the pity—
Youths of a vein immensely witty;
And deem no humour half so good
As calling names and throwing mud!"
We do say, abuse so outrageous is beyond all
bounds of decency, and as offensive to all good
taste as it is to all good feeling. Many of the
assertions in the notes are made evidently on
mere random conjecture: we shall only correct
one relative to ourselves, from which the accu-
racy of others may be judged. Mr. Allan Cun-
ningham is mentioned in a note as writing in
the Literary Gazette. Cunningham neither is
nor ever was a contributor to our pages, and in
them never wrote one line of criticism.

We will now turn to what gives us the pleasure of praise. A spirited story by Leitch Ritchie opens the volume; then come some poems of considerable merit by the editor and his wife; one by Mrs. Howitt, " the Doomed King;"" a Legend of the Rhine," told in his own peculiar and lively style, by Mr. Praed; a poem on Egeria, by Mr. Hervey, so beautiful, that we must quote a favourite passage.

"Who hath not his Egeria?-some sweet thought,
Shrouded and shrined within his heart of hearts,
More closely cherished, and more fondly sought,
Still, as the daylight of the soul departs;-
The visioned lady of the spring that wells
In the green valley of his brighter years,
Or gentle spirit that for ever dwells,

And sings of hope, beside the fount of tears!"

We copy the following account of Quakeresses' dress, as given by one who can speak from experience, Mrs. A. Watts having herself belonged to that community.

"Even the Quakeresses, who, in obedience to the injunction of St. Paul, refrain from outward adorning,' and are restricted by their elders to garments composed of scarcely more than two colours, contrive from these simple elements to extract as much food for vanity ss a painter from his seven primitive colours, or a musician from his octave of notes. It is true. the original materials are limited; but, O for the varieties that their ingenuity will contrive to extract from these simple elements! First, there is white, pure unadulterated white; then there is dead' white, then there is 'blue' white, then there is 'pearl' white, then there is French white, and heaven knows how many other whites. Next follow the grays: first there is simple gray, then 'blue' gray, thenash' gray, then 'silver' gray, then · raven' gray, and, for aught I know, a dozen other grays. Then come the fawn, the 'light' fawn, the 'dark' fawn, the 'red' fawn, the brown, fawn, the 'hare's back,' and the brown paper colour; then follow (with their endless subvisions) the families of the Esterhazies, the 'doves,' the 'slates,' the 'puces,' the *mulberries,' the bronzes,' and the Land me, ex-smokes,'-varieties innumerable, and with die tinctions only visible to the practised eye of

"A namesake, but no connexion of the able and
cellent author of the Kuzzilbash,' J. B. Fraser."
"Where are the Résumés of History, which Messrs.
Whittaker announced from the pen of this gentleman?"

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"This person must not be confounded with a cle- Lady Lyndhurst), and acrimonious editor of the Caed verer and honester man, Mr. H. G. Bell, the author of newspaper in England:' and as the chief supporter of Sanche for none but himself can be his parallel. He is the dic-muscle; for if it be the largest, it is no less certainly. Diza Summer and Winter Hours, nor with any other Mr. Bell, an Atlas must of necessity be a person of no othnay tatorial, pragmatical, vigilant (see his libels on Lord and heaviest newspaper in Great Britain."

Lady Friend. As for their muslin handker- Forms of Prayers, adapted to the use of Schools we know of none equal to Mr. Stuart's; and

Snow.

chiefs, let no unfortunate wight, whilst in the act of paying a bill for Brussels lace, envy those and Families consisting of Young Persons. confess that he has made clear, and shewn who have no such bills to pay: let him rest asAlso Poems on religious Subjects. By J. reasons for, some things for which we had sured that his burden is borne in some shape 18mo. pp. 206. London, 1830. searched in vain in other grammars, and which Hatchard and Son. we never properly understood before. An edior other by his graver brethren: he may know tion of the same author's Chrestomathy is, we that a muslin handkerchief may be bought for Or a previous volume," Sketches and Minor see, announced by Mr. Talboys; and if as eighteen pence; but he does not perhaps know Poems," by the same amiable author, we truly carefully executed as the present work, it will that it may be bought for eighteen shillings said that it displayed a fine tone of poetical be a grateful accession to the stock of Hebrew also, and that the 'Sisters' have a peculiar pen- feeling; to which we may add, in respect to lesson-books. chant for the latter priced article. It is true the present production, that it also breathes a that a double instead of a single border forms pure piety and a genuine sincerity, which the principal, I should say the only difference, touch the heart. The prayers are fervent, The Comic Offering; or, Lady's Melange of between the India and British manufacture, and eloquent by their simplicity and truth. Literary Mirth for 1832. Edited by L. H. no matter; the India is the most difficult to be The sacred poems are very beautiful: from Sheridan. London, 1831. Smith, Elder, procured, therefore the most to be desired, and the introduction to them, we are inclined to and Co. consequently the thing to be worn! And then think that several are from the pen of the late THE comic field seems to be something like their chaussure-in this point they resemble much-esteemed and respected Mr. Christie. the race-course, open to all ages, weights, sexes, our French neighbours more than any other With our best wishes we recommend this and descriptions of competitors. At first Hood people. It is certain that they confine them- little volume to the well-meaning and religious: selves to shoes of two colours, brown and black; it will promote the views of the former by its but then, their varieties! from the wafer-soled wide dissemination, and cheer the latter either drawing-room to the clog-soled walking shoe! among multitudes or in solitude. verily their name should be legion, for they indeed are many. And then their gloves-who

walked over the ground (if such droll motion could be called walking); but now, as in all cases where success has rewarded an original design, we have others rushing to the startingpost, and fairly trying their speed. In this line ever saw a Quakeress with a soiled glove? On A Grammar of the Hebrew Language. By work; and now Miss Sheridan, clarum nomen, we have already had to notice Mr. Harrison's the contrary, who has not remarked the deliMoses Stuart. 8vo. pp. 248. Oxford, 1831. demands our attention to her second year's percate colour and superior fitting of their digital Talboys. formances. We are glad that we can answer coverings? And well may it be so; for, THIS is a reprint of the third American edition this call in a polite fashion, only that it is also though ready-made gloves may do well enough of Professor Stuart's Hebrew Grammar, pub-consistent with truth which is not fashionable; for an undistinguishing court-beauty, her re- lished here with his concurrence, and superin- and speak of the Comic Offering as of a very finement must stoop to that of a Quaker belle, tended through the press by Mr. Pauli, Oriental clever and amusing companion. It is full of who wears no gloves but such as are made for Professor at Oxford, in conjunction with Mr. embellishments, from the binding to the last her own individual fingers. And then their Jones, author of a new version of Isaiah. page; and many of the ideas graphically empocket handkerchiefs-I verily believe that the From the character of these gentlemen as bodied are very fanciful and ludicrous, the present fashion of the mouchoir brodé proceeded Biblical scholars, we were prepared for a very more so as being chiefly the productions of a from them. It is true that they do not require accurate edition of this valuable work;-nor female, who has displayed an exuberance of the corners to be so elaborately embroidered; have we been disappointed. To say that but drollery, while, at the same time, limited to but for years have they been distinguished for few Hebrew grammars can be compared with that delicacy which one of her sex addressing the open-work border on cobweb-like cambric: it in this respect, would not be very high herself to the rest was bound to observe. From nor are they to be satisfied with the possession praise; since productions of this class have among the seventy cuts we shall therefore select of a moderate share of these superior articles. rarely, in our country at least, had that minute two or three, in order to afford an opportunity No, indeed; if they are to be restricted to ne- attention bestowed on their revision, by which of judging of these pictorial puns and witticessaries in dress, they fully indemnify them- alone typographical errors can be avoided. It cisms. selves by having these necessaries of the finest would have been preferable, however, we think, The literary portion of the work is of mixed possible quality, and in the largest possible to have omitted a table of "errata" altogether, merit-sometimes better, sometimes worse, as quantity. So long ago as the reign of Charles than to have noticed only four (in which the all publications of professed humour must of the Second, it was observed of a great states- same word is twice wrong!), when there are necessity be. The first poem will be underman, that he was curious in his linen as a nearly a hundred misprints in the book, in ad- stood, where many a young man understands Quaker:' and this implied axiom of the seven-dition to those pointed out. Many of them, it little else, and we quote it for the entertainteenth century is fully in force at the present is true, are of little consequence; though this is ment of the Universities. day. One observation more, and I have done. not the case with all:--one, for instance, in page In the management of that most unmanageable 162, contradicts the rule it is quoted to confirm. part of a lady's attire ycleped a shawl, we will We do not mention these oversights to complain match any pretty Friend' against any fair of the printing in general, which is uncomone of the European continent (always except-monly neat and creditable, but merely to shew ing a lady from Spain). O, the smoothing of that the work is not quite so immaculate as the plaits that I have witnessed, to modify any un- short list of errata would seem to imply. That seemly excrescence at the back of the neck! it is very difficult to obtain even a tolerable O, the patience required to overcome the stub- degree of accuracy in Hebrew typography we bornness of rebellious sleeves, which threatened well know; and Professor Stuart himself mento obscure the delicate slope of a pair of droop- tions the astonishing fact, that seeing his Graming shoulders! O, the care that has been re- mar through the press was almost as laborious quired to prevent the beautiful sinuosity of a as compiling it! After the high character that falling-in back from being too much veiled, or has been awarded to the work, as a guide to a the utter annihilation of the far-famed Grecian knowledge of this venerable language, by perbend in the sweep of its remorseless folds !" sons eminently qualified to judge, it may be There is a pretty little poem called a thought presumptuous in us to differ; but "Sketch," evidently an imitation, but a very while we give every praise to the learned happy one, of L. E. L.'s style; and a very author, we cannot help saying that we have sweet song by G. M. Fitzgerald. Of what re-seen grammars better suited for the mere bemains we will say as little as possible, for there ginner than this, which is too elaborate and is much of commonplace and inferior quality. On the whole, the Souvenir, though not equal to some of its earlier volumes, is at least equal to most of its competitors.

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minute for such a purpose. Mr. Hurwitz'
Grammar (noticed in our No. 757) is, in our
opinion, more likely to attract the tyro and
lead him on, by combining rule, example, and
exercise together, than one in which only bare
rules are given, either without any, or, at best,
with very meagre, exemplifications. But as an
excellent book of reference on doubtful points,

Letter from an Oxford Student to his Mother.
"Brazen-Nose College, Oct. 1831.
"Dear Mother,-Your anger to soften
At last I sit down to indite,-
'Tis clear I am wrong very often,
Since 'tis true I so seldom do write!
But now I'll be silent no longer,

Pro and con all my deeds I'll disclose,-
All the pros in my verse I'll make stronger,
And hide all the cons in my pros!
You told me, on coming to college,
To dip into books and excel;
Why, the tradesmen themselves must acknowledge
I've dipt into books pretty well!
The advice you took pleasure in giving
To direct me, is sure to succeed,
And I think you'll confess I am living
With very great credit indeed!

I wait on the Reverend Doctors
Whose friendship you told me to seek;
And as for the two learned Proctors,
They've call'd for me twice in a week!
Indeed, we've got intimate lately,

And I seldom can pass down the street
But their kindness surprises me greatly,-
For they stop me whenever we meet
My classics, with all their old stories,
I now very closely pursue,--
And ne'er read the Remedia Amoris
Without thinking, dear mother, of you!
Of Virgil I've more than a smatter,
And Horace I've nearly by heart;
But though fam'd for his smartness and satire,
He's not quite so easy as Smart.

English Bards I admire every tittle,
And doat on poetical lore,

And though yet I have studied but Little,
I hope to be master of Moore!

You'll see, from the nonsense I've written,
That my devils are none of the Blues;
That I'm playful and gay as a kitten,
And nearly as fond of the Muse!

Bright puns (oh! how crossly you bore 'em!)
I scatter, while Logic I cram;
For Euclid, and Puns Asinorum,

We leave to the Johnians of Cam.
My pony, in spite of my chidings,
Is skittish and shy as can be;
Not Yorkshire, with all its three ridings,
Is half such a shier as he!

I wish he were stronger and larger,
For in truth I must candidly own
He is far the most moderate charger

In this land of high chargers I've known!

My doubts of profession are vanish'd,
I'll tell you the cause when we meet;
Church, army, and bar I have banish'd,
And now only look to the Fleet!
Come down, then, when summer is gilding
Our gardens, our trees, and our founts,
I'll give you accounts of each building,-
How you'll wonder at all my accounts!
Come down when the soft winds are sighing;
Come down-Oh you shall and you must,-
Come down when the dust-clouds are flying,-
Dear mother-Come down with the dust!"

The following is more generally amusing; for who cannot play at

Cross Purposes?

"Child!' said the bard, dost thou wander now

To gather fresh flowers for thy sunny brow?

Or twin'st thou a garland pure and fair

To fix in thy sleeping brother's hair?
That when he awakes he may smile to see
The nodding roses all pluck'd by thee:
Tell me, thou child!'

No,' said the child. with accent clear,
I comes jist now wi' ma feyther's beer!'

Thy father's bier? Has he left thee, child,
To the world's cold blasts and its tempests wild?
Has he left thee beside a deserted hearth
With no one to guard thee on all the earth?
Has he sunk in his pride 'neath the hand of fate
And left thee, thou lone one, desolate?

Tell me, thou child!'

"No!' said the child with that sunny brow, 'He's been all this mornin' arter the plough!"

'Hear'st thou the breezes from yonder hill,

As they speak with lone voices subdued and still, Telling, as onwards in perfume they sweep, Of the hidden flow'rs in the valleys which sleep; Hear'st thou their voices at even-tide, As thou sinkest to sleep by the river's side? Tell me, thou child!' 'No,' said the child, I ne'er hears them speak, But I hears them blowin' most nights in the week."" As a prose tale, we would recommend that of "the man who carried his own bundle," evidently a real anecdote of Admiral Lord A. Beauclerc, which is unluckily too long for transplanting among our extracts, and would lose so much by pruning to the fitting size, as to destroy its character; so we must be contented with the annexed, and a repetition of our praise of the volume which they help to

enliven.

An Old Cat!

Making a Tumbler of Punch.

The Keepsake, for 1832. Edited by F. Mansel Reynolds. Longman and Co. THIS beautiful volume is as beautiful as ever; and its exquisite plates are accompanied by a pleasant collection of tales and poetry. Its aristocratic table of contents seems just like the list of names given in the Morning Post when some gay party has been attended by

all the fashionable world." We own we do not see why, as critics, we should object to what both publisher and public seem to like; and the taste of the former is always ruled by that of the latter. This volume is destined for the drawing-room; and why should not some of its readers see themselves in its pages. "Lady Evelyn Savile's Three Trials" is a sweet and touching story; and the "New King," by Theodore Hook, very lively and very likely. Lord Mulgrave's "Bridemaid" is a very sweet creature, worthy to accompany the plate for which it was written, but which has been delayed. Lord Morpeth has contributed some graceful poems; so has Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley. Among other tales that have pleased us, we must mention "the Dream," by the Author of Frankenstein; "Therese," by Sheridan Knowles; "the Fortunes of a Modern Crichton ;" and, if it were more condensed, "the Star of the Pacific," which, albeit, turns on a most improbable incident. We make the following poetical selections.

"Stancas. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley. When the sweet bulbul thrills the perfumed breeze, And, crescent-crown'd, gleam those pomegranate-trees, And thy caique shoots through the slumbering seas, Remember me! remember me!

I passionately pray of thee.

When thou hast left this bright and blessed shore,
Perhaps to breathe its heavenly airs no more,
And home seems dearer than 'twas e'er before,
Remember me! remember me!

I passionately pray of thee.

When the last flash of daylight is declining,
When Persian bowers are round thy head entwining,
When Persian eyes are all about thee shining,
Remember me! remember rue!

I passionately pray of thee.

When thou hast met with careless hearts and cold-
Hearts that young love may touch, but never hold,
Not changeless as the loved and left of old-
Remember me! remember me!

I passionately pray of thee.

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"Edith," by L. E. L., is one of that delightful writer's most charming little sketches, full, as they always are, of imagination and feeling.

"Weep not, weep not, that in the spring
We have to make a grave;

The flowers will grow, the birds will sing,
The early roses wave:

And make the sod we 're spreading fair

For her who sleeps below;

We might not bear to lay her there,

In winter frost and snow.

We never hoped to keep her long:

When but a fairy child,

With dancing step, and birdlike song,
And eyes that only smiled,

A something shadowy and frail

Was even in her mirth;

She look'd a flower that one rough gale
Would bear away from earth.

There was too clear and blue a light
Within her radiant eyes,
They were too beautiful, too bright,
Too like their native skies;

Too changeable the rose which shed
Its colour on her face,

Now burning with a passionate red,
Now with just one faint trace.

She was too thoughtful for her years,
Its shell the spirit wore;

And when she smiled away our fears,
We only feared the more.
The crimson deepen'd on her cheek,
Her blue eyes shone more clear,
And every day she grew more weak,
And every hour more dear.
Her childhood was a happy time,
The loving and beloved;

Yon sky, which was her native clime,
Hath but its own removed.
This earth was not for one to whom
Nothing of earth was given;
'Twas but a resting place, her tomb,
Between the world and heaven."

"London in September-(not in 1831).
By Lord John Russell.
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,
A single horseman paces Rotten Row;
In Brookes's sits one quidnunc to peruse

The broad, dull sheet which tells the lack of news;
At White's a lonely Brummell lifts his glass
To see two empty hackney coaches pass;
The timid housemaid, issuing forth, can dare
To take her lover's arm in Grosvenor Square;
From shop deserted hastes the 'prentice dandy,
And seeks-oh, bliss!-the Molly-a tempora jandi ;
Meantime the batter'd pavement is at rest,
And waiters wait in vain to spy a guest;
Thomas himself, Cook, Warren, Fenton, Long,
I lave all left town to join the Margate throng;
The wealthy tailor on the Sussex shore

Displays and drives his blue barouche and four;
The peer, who made him rich, with dog and gun
Toils o'er a Scottish moor, and braves a scorching
sun."

We had intended quoting a story, but must content ourselves with recommending-they are rather long for our columns, and yet it is a pity to abridge; though it is not improbable that we may try our hand in this way next Saturday. Meanwhile, as a Picture and Literary Annual, we can truly say, that a finer specimen for gift or keeping has not been produced than this year's Keepsake.

The New Year's Gift, and Juvenile Souvenir. Edited by Mrs. Alaric Watts. London, 1831. Longman and Co.

ALTHOUGH we are this week rather overcharged with the larger brethren of the Annual family, we cannot be so ill-mannered as to allow the performance of a lady to pass without its meed of praise. Mrs. Watts has again produced a very sweet little volume; addressed, we should say, from the general character of its contents, principally to a class of readers who, in common parlance, would be thought younger than that to which the word juvenile applies; though it may be perused with pleasure and instruction from the age of nine to fifteen, as well as of four to nine.

Poetical compositions, written down to the capacity of children, are seldom deserving of critical notice; nor do we find any of them in the New Year's Gift to tempt us from the usual course, except the "Sailor's Widow," a very pathetic story by Mary Howitt, to whom the volume is, with good feeling and great propriety, dedicated.

"Come close,' she said, with trembling voice,
Come closer unto me!

Oh! what a dreadful night is this
For wanderers on the sea!

Oh! I have prayed for him so long-
So vainly wished him home;

So vainly counted weeks and months-
I fear he will not come !

Ah! there's a wreck upon the waves,
Drifting the storm before!
Methinks it is the very ship

In which he left this shore!

Methinks I see a feeble few,

Faint, clinging to her deck!

God save them all! and bring to shore
That poor and shattered wreck !

He was a tall and goodly man
As ever sailed the sea-
But 't was not for his goodly looks
He was so dear to me!

He had a kind and loving heart;-
Ah! he was warm and true-
As gentle, yet as brave a man
As ever cable threw !

Yet, if it pleases God to give
Him back to us again,

My children, it will wring his heart
To find you are but twain!
For when upon this voyage he went,
Upon this very shore

We parted in the pilot-boat,
His blessing was on four !
He'll ask, Where is my little Jack,
That was so stout of limb-
And Willie, with his curling hair,
What is become of him?'
And then, alas! my answering

A dismal tale must be,
How Jack and Willie both are laid
Beneath the churchyard tree!
First, little Willie went to heaven,
He did not suffer long;

He died before two days were passed,
And of a fever strong.

Poor Jack, he had his father's heart,
He watched him night and day,
And then he took the fever too,

And in his death-bed lay.

I'll shew him where their little graves
Are lying, side by side;

The Spring has made them fresh and green,
With daisies beautified.

How will he hold you in his arms,
The while his heart doth ache-
And feel that you, two lonely ones,
Are dearer for their sake!

But look! yon wreck comes nearer now-
And plainly I can see,
That to her deck is clinging fast
A feeble company!

Up! let us hasten to the beach-
The struggling vessel flies
Before a current strong-and hark!
I hear their feeble cries.'
They hasted down unto the beach;
The winds and waters bore
Anon that miserable wreck
Upon the sandy shore.

And well the woman knew the ship,
And well the men she knew-
Seven weather-beaten, feeble men,
The remnant of the crew;--
But he, the one so dear to her,
Was not among the few!

Oh, where is he! oh, where is he?
My husband dear!' she cried.
The sailors all had pity on her,
And gently thus replied :-
It was before the storm began,
When on the Indian sea,
At sunset, we were sailing with
The trade-wind pleasantly;
The captain's son-a little boy,
Loved by thy husband well,
As he was playing by his side,
Into the water fell!

The captain saw him fall-but ere
His voice could give alarm,
Thy husband plunged into the sca
And caught him by the arm.
He heaved the boy upon the deck;-
But then came suddenly
Upon him, with its open jaws,
A monster of the sea!"
The woman shrieked
O tell it not to me!'
God be a father unto you,
My children dear,' she said;
The warmest heart that ever lived
Lies with the ocean dead!'

And he is dead!

Be calm, be calm!' an old man spake,
Our captain died last eve;

His little son was dead before,
And with us he did leave
For thee the treasure of the wreck,
And prayed thee not to grieve!
He made me swear upon the Book,
Which I did solemnly,

If e'er we reached this shore, that I
Would surely seek for thee.
And to thee and thy babes convey
Whate'er the vessel bore;-
Look up, look up! thou weeping one,
For ye will want no more!'
Gold,' said the widow, mournfully,
Will ne'er the dead restore!

Oh! he is gone-that finest heart-
Oh! he is gone from me!
Upon my weary soul hath come
A great calamity!'

And thus she sorrowed long and sore,

And called upon the dead,

And bowed her forehead to the dust,

Nor would be comforted."

description of a trip to Paris by a boy, and the Cabinet of Curiosities," convey intelligence in an agreeable manner, and there are several interesting stories, we select as our best example the little fowler of Tempio.

"Francesco Micheli was the only son of a carpenter, in easy circumstances, who resided at Tempio, a town situated in the north of the island of Sardinia: he had two sisters younger than himself, and had only attained his tenth year, when a fire, which broke out in the house of his father, reduced it to ashes, and consumed the unfortunate carpenter in the ruins. This accident was occasioned by the carelessness of the youngest sister of Francesco, who had been playing with some pieces of lighted paper, and by chance suffered the flame to fall upon a heap of shavings which had been swept up in one corner of her father's workshop. The blaze spread rapidly over every quarter of the little dwelling; in vain Micheli exerted himself to arrest its progress. The dry state of the wood of which the cottage was built rendered it an easy prey to the flames; and whilst the unfortunate man was trying to secure a small box, containing the little savings of many years, the sudden fall of the roof buried him in the ruins, and, ere any assistance could be rendered, life was quite extinct; whilst his wife, having secured the safety of her children, contrived to escape through the flames, but was so much scorched and injured as to be rendered incapable of any exertion during the remainder of her life. Totally ruined by this frightful event, the whole family were now left destitute on the world, and were forced to implore the charity of strangers, in order to supply the urgent necessities of each succeeding day. Every morning little Francesco was despatched to seek relief from the numerous friends of his father; but, alas! it is but a weak resource, and an uncertain support, which is founded on the commiseration of others. In many instances he returned unrelieved and disappointed, and the unhappy widow was unable to give bread to her starving children from the alms bestowed upon their little brother. Francesco had a certain innate pride, which shrunk from asking a favour of another. The least inquiry into his circumstances, the shadow of hesitation, the slightest repulse, or an air of coldness and reserve, disconcerted him at once; and at such times he could but return to weep and to lament with his unhappy mother. At length, tired of his vain attempts to support his indigent parent by the extorted kindnesses of others, and grieved at seeing her and his sisters pining in destitution before his eyes, necessity and tenderness conspired to urge him to exertion and ingenuity. He made with lathes, and with some little difficulty, a cage, or aviary, of considerable dimensions, and furnished it with every requisite for the reception of birds; and when spring returned, he proceeded to the woods in the vicinity of Tempio, and set himself industriously to secure their nests of young. As he was skilful at the task and of great activity, he was not long before he became tolerably successful; he climbed from tree to tree, and seldom returned without his cage being well stored with chaffinches, linnets, blackbirds, wrens, ring-doves, jays, and pigeons. Even in the most trifling business, one has always need of a companion, and in this Francesco found his two sisters invaluable assistants: whilst he was abroad in the wood, they sought in the marshes for reeds and bulrushes of which to make little cages; they fed the young birds which he brought home on his return, and they

From the prose contributions, though the trained with great care such as they found

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