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"Which was the more dismal object to Colonel Ferrarton, the dead child or the despairing mother, it might be difficult to decide. He laid his hand on the cold hand of her, yet mortal, and yet suffering, in the hope of rousing her from her trance-like gaze on him who had ceased to suffer. But no change of lip or complexion betokened her consciousness of his presence. She sat, rigid as that bereaved mother of old, apparently beyond the reach of aught more of carthly joy or sorrow. Colonel Ferrarton's | anguish for his boy was, for a moment, swallowed up by his intense anxiety for its parent. He laid his hand upon the cold brow of the dead, thus veiling him from the view of the living. A frantic shriek proved the success of his experiment. All the floods of woman's grief were opened up, as the face on which her soul doated was suddenly shut out from her. And tears fell abundantly, and once more she was alive to the consola Hions-the sympathising mourning-of that voice which to her had always hitherto deen the harbinger of hope and love."

Another of his children is sacrificed; and : 'olonel Ferrarton determines to fly the counstry: he has taken his passage for England.

"A ray of hope began to dawn dimly on the mother's mind, as the time gradually approached which was to witness her dearture for ever from the land that had been o fatal to those most dear to her. Her sole remaining child became a thousand-fold more precious than even maternal love had hitherto deemed it. Cradled always in her rms, by night and by day pressed to her 3osom, it seemed as if evil could not touch it the shelter of such a sanctuary, and some nch fond superstition probably induced her constant vigilance.

"The woman paused, and she gazed earnestly on the face of the fair child, as it lay in its innocent beauty, smiling on her as one it recognized and loved. I nursed it from the hour of its birth !' said the Ayah, and her voice had that in its tones which thrilled to the heart of her mistress.

"Mrs. Ferrarton gazed on her with what may perhaps be called the inexplicable instinct of fear. ، What do you mean ? you have nursed it from the moment of its birth, Ayah, and you will nurse it, I hope, whilst it requires your care. We have trusted you so entirely, that we never shall be able to confide it even to an English nurse, Letchimah. You must stay with your nursling as long as it requires your nursing.'

"The woman threw the food she had brought on the ground. For a moment she looked anxiously, almost wildly, on the mother and child, and anon she lifted up her | voice and wept, exclaiming at intervals, I cannot do it! I cannot do it! The others had not fed from my breast-she has! not do it-I cannot do it!'

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"The terror of Mrs. Ferrarton was extreme. 'I charge you, Ayah, tell me what you mean!' she cried; you are distracting me, you are yourself mad! What would you, woman?'

"She bowed herself until her forehead touched the floor. I will not destroy the babe I have fed at my bosom,' she cried. Yonder food is poisoned,-touch it not! The daughter of my own womb is the wife of Cassec Sing, but, were it to save her from the grave, I would destroy no more the fruit of

yours.'

*

"A few words revealed the mystery. The daughter of the trusted Ayah was the para"The day of embarkation was at hand; mour of Cassee Sing, and his power over 11 their preparations for the long voyage be- her had been used as a means of converting re them were completed, all their accom-her mother into the instrument of his vennodations ascertained, and their cabin in a geance. Of him no trace was ever obtained, state fit for their reception. The evening and, in parting with the woman in whom he was closing dimly and darkly, and the mother had so confided, Colonel Ferrarton removed sat with the babe in her arms, listening to from his house the evil influence which had the moaning of the wind as to the voice of a well nigh blasted it. friend, and wishing that her child was safe from the reach of other enemies than the voice of its roaring.'Let it fall into the hand of the Lord, and not of man,' was her prayer, as of the Jewish monarch of old, and, as her heart looked upwards, she took comfort from the assurance that He that is higher than the highest,' regarded.

"Her solitude was interrupted by the approach of the old Ayah, whose length of ser vice has before been mentioned. She brought food for the infant, and she proceeded to take it from the mother's arms. Disturbed from quiet slumber, it uttered a feeble cry of complaint, and Mrs. Ferrarton, still engrossed by the painful train of thought that had occupied her, pressed it more closely to her breast. Do not take her from me,' she said to her attendant; feed her as she rests here. Surely no evil can reach her in her mother's arms,' and she raised her eyes to the sable countenance of her Ayah as she spoke.

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"He returned to the land of his birth with his wife and their remaining child. And other sons and other daughters were born unto him, but he forgot not, he does not followed upon the steps of the foulest act of now forget,-the terrible vengeance which his existence-THE UNJUST PUNISHMENT !"

This certainly is an awful way of paying off an enemy.

The reminiscences of Shaiak Ismael are well told, and exhibit a pleasing idea of the character of that individual.

"In the name of the prophet!

without sense. My mother and others about me did with me as they listed. As soon as consciousness dawned, my mother became dearest to me, because I was carried oftenest by her; and even when I had learned the art of walking, I preferred being pillowed on her bosom. Happy is he who can always ride, and happier he who is always still,-to whom whatever his wants require is brought!

"This, however, is not the fate of us all. It is written that some must be rich, but many poor. I belonged to the many, and my lot was cast in poverty. I was the son of a sipahi, and an orderly boy in my father's regiment.

"My father died. May his soul be with the prophet! My mother and myself subsisted entirely on my pay-three rupees each month-as the feringhees (Europeans) count their months. All things were controlled by my mother, and she was wiser than Fatima, the favorite of the prophet. Whilst our neighbours contented themselves with rice, or on great occasions rejoiced over a vegetable curry, we had daily delicious pilaus, kibaubs, or curries of the choicest meat. We had sweetmeats and fruits also, and my mother possessed saras of the finest cloth. She was young and fair as Zuleika, and her skill in domestic management was wonderful, considering her youth. She was often absent from our dwelling, and once or twice, as I was strolling about the streets of the cantonment, I fancied I saw her in the house of a feringhee officer. But she convinced me of my mistake, by reminding me that such a proceeding was quite against her caste. Therefore I ate heartily of the delicacies she set before me, and asked no farther questions. Her secret, if there were any, perished with her-peace be on her grave!” We must here close our present notice.

A Tableau of French Literature during the Eighteenth Century. By M. de Barante. Tais book, useful as is its end, and excellent London : 1833. Smith and Elder. its information, is rendered almost unreadWe should imagine that it is the work of a able by the style in which it is translated. foreigner, for the Gallicisms are frequent, and the turn of the sentences entirely French,

of the translation. -a great recommendation, no doubt, for the original, but a sad drawback for the readers

We will take, for instance, the concluding sentence as a specimen of the style of the book, and as an excuse for the judgment we have given of it.

"Thus the eighteenth century ran its course. When, by the rapid succession of time, a great number of similar periods shall "My sons, if ye would learn the pathway have passed over the tombs of those men, and to plenty and prosperity, even to the attain- also over those of the people, the era will not ment of riches, read the recollections of your remain unknown in the throng of crowded father, and deposit them in the storehouse of epochs. It will not be confounded with your memory, until the season shall arrive those which recal no souvenir to the memory for the planting of the same seed, and, by of man. The march of the human mind, the similar diligence, to the ripening of the same point to which it had reached, were so refruit. markable, that they will always attract the I was once, as other men, feeble and l attention of posterity. It was not, in truth,

renown in which it fell short; and if it be seeks the Scriptures for a butt. It is a great | Johnson been alive, the caput mortuum of permitted to form a prayer for the future, in pity that the bard was not received into the ca- poor "Black Death" would have been somewhich a feeble part only belongs to us, we pacious bosom of his friend Neptune, while what the worse for one of his ponderous breathe a desire that the age just begun-coming from India-then we should have tomes. Byron gives us in Don Juan "the been spared this trouble. There is nothing rainbow based in ocean;""Black Death" more remarkable in his poem than his im- has given us the "water-spout based in pudence, (always, indeed, excepting his ocean." Doubtless this is but a beautiful folly,) first, in daring to think any comparison thought, original on the part of "Black would be drawn between himself and Byron, Death." He says the water-spout was “like then in mixing up with his trash passages from a trumpet of unearthly size;" his next image Holy writ; and, lastly, being of the true will be the handle of a penny rattle, which asinine breed, that he should presume to he played with between stanzas. bray among men instead of herding among his brother donkeys in lanes or commons. "Twas thought a Jonas was among

the century we have seen born, and which
will see us all die-may bring to our sous
and their children, not more glory and éclat,
but more virtue and less misfortune."
"An age which will leave no souvenir;"
"glory and éclat ;" and so forth all this is
excusable in the translator if he be a French-
man, but no recommendation if he be an
Englishman. For ourselves we can say, that
we opened the book with much curiosity,
that we expected from it much pleasure,
and that we were obliged to lay it down
from absolute inability to master or compre-
hend the clumsy phraseology of the trans-
lator.

Zara; or, the Black Death. A Poem of
the Sea. By the Author of “Naufragus.”
London: 1833. Whittaker and Co.
THE blockhead who has written this poem sets
out, in his preface, by informing his readers
that he has chosen the Spenserian stanza.'
We were always led to believe that the
"Faery Queen" of Spenser, and the" Childe
Harold" of Byron, were written in the
stanza called Spenserian, but never before
were aware that Don Juan was.

He is afraid that his readers will draw comparisons between him and Byron: we

assure him we will not. We have conned over many pages, but cannot meet with anything like poetry. His book teems with bad rhymes, bad measure, childish attempts at wit, and idiot-like nonsense. However, we will give our readers one of his Speuserian

stanzas:

"Disrob'd she was, asleep too in her bed; And where, angelic maid, I fain leave thee; Not for a kingdom would I have it said

crew;

And some had the temerity to say,

the

Again he rhymes, southward, board, lour'd; suited her, daughter; limited, prohibited; do, stew, &c. We have the following line, remarkable for the melody of its bray

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Until the rain very suddenly ceased." Who was the Jonas they were sure they We have also the "buz of buzy whisperings." knew." Who would for a moment suppose this was intended for poetry?

He tells us, in stanza L. that " amid the din the sailors clear'd the wreck ;" and

in the next stanza, that

"The vessel bore away before the squall,
At the fleet rate of fourteen knots an
hour."

Now really this exceeds the wonders of fairy
land, and plainly shews, in his own words,
that he was "schooled in the ocean."

Schooled in the occan !-take our word for
it, he never rode across a fish-pond in his
mother's wash-tub. He has, perhaps, but-
toned up his great-coat, and, like a rash gri-
malkin, boldly crossed a gutter in the street.
This must have been the height of his naval
experiments.

lors mind it, but he never heard a dainty
Here is another stanza, where "the sui-
landsman say he liked the sea." This must
be the stanza he alludes to in his preface,
where he speaks of beauties and sublimities.

At sea 'tis wretched on a rainy day;
The sailors mind it; I have heard some say,
And yet it cannot rightly be inferred
A sailor is a kind of water-bird,
Who dries his jacket by the fair sun's ray;

A dainty landsman say, he liked the sea
But never in my travels have I heard
Whene'er the decks were wet and slippery."
We hope our readers will lay a heavy accent
on the last syllable in this stanza, and read
slipperee.

"Great cause he had for grief; and he would say, his recent ills he felt a little sore, his friends' unkind desertion, more than any; he dashed starting tear away, and saw in a near harbour lay a man of war." "Great cause had he for grief; and he would say,-

His recent ills he felt a little sore,

His friends' unkind desertion, more than
any;

He dashed a starting tear away, and saw
In a near harbour lay a man-of-war."

by trying to allure us into the second-:10,
no! we are not donkeys; although we have
and rotten thorns to fancy ourselves of the
now grazed long enough upon dead nettles
long-eared fraternity, and we shake hands
with our brother bard.
He bids his canto

"Black Death" concludes his first cauto

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go, and live its day." Live! it never yet lived-it is still-born-it approaches to that vegetable matter which has neither life nor

death in it. He give us entertainment! We

would sooner sit down and hear a sawsharpener hour after hour at the expense of our teeth, than follow him. We would swallow his physic by the stanza-he has rather devour Castille soap by the pound than neither rhyme nor reason. But enough; we are tired, and so are our readers: and we hope our friend "Black Death" is likewise so fatigued that while he lives he will never again take pen in haud, and thus save himself and his friends much disgrace and unpleasant

That I could e'er invade thy sanctity; But if-aye, if,-aside the veil were laid, And eye, unseen, could rove luxuriously; Supposing, too, the naughty eye were-mine, I'd naught reveal, believe me,-not a line." Who can read this stanza without comparing him to Byron, or rather without wondering that the immortal bard did not arise from the dead, enter the room where this It is said of Byron, that in his poetry he "kitten was mewing," seize him by his pourtrayed himself-our author, forsooth, wretched tail, and throw him out at the win-must tread in the noble bard's steps; and, dow, for daring to think that any comparison as he requested us not to link him withness. would be drawn between them. What in Byron, which we cannot but understand to the name of common sense is here meant ? mean the contrary, we shall for once place We offer any ene a silver crown who will him beside the "lion of literature." "Black interpret the following lines: Death" shall here draw his own character: "I mean the donkey in the lion's skin, Who bray'd but once-and thus confessed

And one

Poor weakly youth had once seen happier days,

But who of hopes to see again, had none."

In stanzas XLII. XLIII. and XLIV. we have these rhymes, remarkable for anything but goodness and variety: XLII., maid, said, fade; XLIII., maid, delay'd, aid; XLIV., dead, head, led, afraid, said, made.

We would have our readers look closely at this extract. The author has intended it for wit, but it is wit of a miserable kind that

his kin."

Our donkey has brayed twice, in order to draw our attention to his ears. Again we request our reader's attention to this morsel: "Hot rolls had they for breakfast and bohea,

ORIGINAL PAPERS.

FIRST LOVE.

THERE are two kinds of love to which humanity is liable. Our love at the passionate age of fifteen, and our love at the reflective age of thirty, are very different thingsthe former belongs to the dreams, the latter to the realitics of life. No man ever marries his first love.

Gentle reader-John Jones, or whatever may be thy familiar appellation, we will suppose at this moment that you are sitting in your dining-room; the table is drawn near to the fire; Mrs. Jones, who is one of the We have for rhymes, begun, Johnson. Had most delightful and unaffected ladies upon

Cold fowl and ham, and jellies-every day,
With cocoa, eggs new laid, and rich
coffee."

earth, sits with her needlework on the opposite side; your wine is at your elbow, and you feel that after-dinner idleness which is the most delightful of all sensations. You have been chatting with Mrs. J. at intervals, and for a few moments you have actually been asleep; but that of course you deny. Well, you ring for tea, take your last glass of wine; and now you have the National Standard | in your hand, and commence reading this article aloud to Mrs. Jones: you pause for a moment, and she looks up into your face, and, smiling, asks you if there is one word of truth in the sentence you have just been reading; and you, John Jones, without a blush upon your face, take your wife's hand, and say to her, "I at least can disprove its truth-for you know, my dear girl, that in loving you, I loved

'My last love, and it was my first!'" John Jones, you are a hypocrite!

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M. B. S.

POLICEMAN, 175. D. "O LA! my lady, if there isn't one of the New Police come about your ladyship's dimond earring," exclaimed a pretty looking abigail, rushing into the apartment of her mistress, a lady of quality in St. James's square.

Thus for several years you enjoyed the life of a first lover: sometimes you were nearly precipitated into an avowal of ever-enduring passion; but one way, or another, you lived through many loves, and with all your romance, the thought of the quizzing propensities of your brothers and sisters, the consternation of your mother, the anger of your father, and the insufficiency of your annual allowance of pocket-money, together with "Dear me, I'm very glad to hear that; the prospect of its entire suspension, ope- let him come up immediately." Shortly rated in a wholesome manner, and saved after was ushered into the room a tall man, you from the perdition of marrying a first buttoned up in blue, No. 175 D.: his features Did you never in the days when you had love. You then went into the world, mixed were somewhat harsh, and they were attachcast off frills-but still retained a jacket, with its gayest and kindest spirits, founded to portentously red whiskers. The lady read a novel of which the heroine seemed to yourself flattered and caressed, wrote a book, motioned to the footman who introduced your youthful fancy all that your heart could and was the lion of a season; when, finding the visitor, and the abigail who announced ever sigh for? In later days, when the a few hairs in your head which certainly him, to stay. jacket was abandoned, you will remember were not black, you began to wonder wheyour regular attendance at church, and the ther you could be getting grey, and to doubt, anxiety with which you used to watch for after all, whether you should ever marry. the arrival of the lady's establishment which At this time the remembrance of some first occupied the opposite pew. You will re-love came once more upon your mind: you member how hopeless you deemed your love turned to your writing-desk to ease your to be, and how you determined that its hope- heart by gazing on the fond memorials of "That is it, I declare!" cried her ladylessness should be rivalled by its constancy. juvenile affection-a lock of hair, trinkets ship, overjoyed, her eyes sparkling as bright You will also remember the agony of mind innumerable, and a stock of purses that as the diamonds, at the sight of her long lost which you experienced when two Sundays would contain the entire interest of the na-treasure. "You are aware, my good man, passed, during which the incentive to the tional debt; perhaps too you have found a in what manner I lost it; some horrid perperformance of your religious obligations scrap of poetry, Moore's of course: son actually snatched it from my ear as I was absent from her accustomed seat. left the Opera one evening." you cannot have forgotten the horror with which you were afterwards overwhelmed when it came to your knowledge that her absence had been caused by chilblains. Your passion was annihilated from that hour, aud the affection that was to have endured through all the tempests of life was withered by a November frost.

And

"Oft as summer closes,
When thine eye reposes
On its ling'ring roses,

Once so loved by thee.
Think of her who wove them,
Her who made thee love them,
Oh then remember me."

"Madam!" said the policeman, advancing to the sofa, and bowing most obsequiously, "I believe I am the bearer of good news: your ladyship has lost an earring of value; pray is this it ?"--and he displayed a sparkling bauble.

"He must have been an unnatural thief indeed, madam;" said the man of blue, bowing low, and blushing as red as his whiskers. The lady looked first at the man, and then at the servants, and seemed surprised.

You smiled and sighed at the same moment, closing your researches with the reflectionBut your love, your first love-for it was" that she certainly was a sweet girl, but the same feeling, still existed, and imme-not at all suited to your habits of life." diately fixed upon some other object, with In time you grew tired of the uninter-am equally obliged to you for your generous

the same prospect of eternal constancy. You rupted gaieties of the London world; and
felt that some one you must love: there was perhaps many of your evenings were spent at
a perpetual sunshine in your heart, which the house of some old friend of your family,
threw its light and warmth on all around-possessing a daughter adorned with every
it was a pastoral love-a love which tempted charm that your now civilized taste could
your fancy to revel in the dreams of early wish for. You laughed at the follies of life
spring: you thought of green meadows without severity, knowing that you had
and gentle streams-village churches and ro- shared them in no small degree: she, too,
mantic lanes-wild flowers and garlands-had seen something of the world, and had
white dresses and cottage-bonnets you learnt to think of the happiness of others, as
thought not then of food or splendid rai- well as of her own, and so, avoiding all the
ment,-it was a love that lived upon its own vulgarities of affectation, you got into a con-
brightness; and, if even you thought of a fidential style, and matrimony inevitably en-
little family, you dreamed not of shoemakers' sued. But at this period your love was not
bills as connected therewith.
of the romantic cast, and therefore it was
not in the slightest degree in danger of being
chilled by the negociations respecting trustee-
ships, and the settlement of the lady's pro-
perty. The day arrived, you were perfectly
calm and happy; you drove to Tunbridge|
Wells, and in a few weeks you returned to

You thought not of money-what was money? If indeed it ever entered into your head, it was rather with a feeling of aversion, as though it were more likely to mar than to make your happiness. And you will remember many evenings, when, taking au

"But I am obliged to you for returning it," she said, "and I will direct Mr. Jones to give you five pounds for your trouble." “Madam,” exclaimed the policeman, “I intentions, but my duty forbids the acceptance of such a present; and I am still more concerned to say that this is a very unpleasant affair, and will require your ladyship's attendance at the police-office to convict the thief, a most hardened wretch, who insists he received it from your ladyship's own hand."

"Heavens! what depravity! I gave it the monster-does he say so?"

"He does indeed, madam; but that is too ridiculous: however, we must convict him by your ladyship's presence."

"Impossible, my good man, impossible!" cried her ladyship, much distressed; "what vile laws! why can't they hang him without my interference? Besides, I could never endure the atmosphere of a police-office It would be the death of me!-Oh Brown!"

"Oh la! my lady, not for the world!" cried the shocked abigail; "it's quite im

possible your ladyship can go-your lady- once, and his intrinsic value fixed and stated. ship is so very peticular."

"And then, madam, the attendance at the Old Bailey, on the day of trial," said the policeman; "it is indeed a most unpleasant duty for one of your ladyship's refined habits."

"Say no more of it, pray," cried her ladyship, holding her smelling-bottle mechanically to her nose; "and yet it is hard to lose so valuable an ornament. Could you do nothing for me, policeman? I would reward you handsomely."

Amidst all this, however, the scrutinizer and
the scrutinized never for a moment suspect
that they are one and the same man in the
outline, but filled up in different tints.
"Ah, C, my dear lord! where have
you been for the last century?" drawled out
a prince of foplings "lam monstrous glad
to see you again, 'pon my soul! Who the
devil is that uncivilized brute in black, with
his legs under black silk stockings, like the
axletree of a baggage-waggon put in mourn-
ing? There he goes, to the tune of the
City-trot, up to the only part of the room
where he has no business."

Why, my lady, I hardly know, perhaps my evidence might suffice: suppose you send the fellow earring to Mr. Dyer, at Marlborough-street, which would identify the stolen property to be yours, and I will en-his pocket?" inquired the soft-tongued Lord deavour to manage the rest."

"That man with a bandana handkerchief, or some such filthy thing, hanging out of

C. "Oh, I know something of the crea“Thank you, thank you, my good man, ture: he is an overgrown beast called a I would not lose the earring for the world," West India merchant, and grubs on somecried her ladyship; "fetch the case contain- where in a place called Leadenhall street, in ing the other, Brown; and perhaps you the city, with a willy, as he calls it-ha, ha! will have the kindness to take the manage--at Camberwell, where he retires, for the ment of the affair. And here, you must take this purse, -and when it is all settled, you may calculate on his lordship's protection." The policeman bowed very low; he was not able to withstand the glittering bribe, but took the money, and the jewels, and likewise the gratitude of the lady.

A week afterwards the following paragraph went "the round of the papers :' :" "Ingenious Thief.-Lady C. of St. James's square, has been robbed of some valuable jewels in a very ingenious and novel manner. It appears that some dexterous conveyancer contrived to snatch a diamond earring from her ladyship as she was stepping into her carriage from the Opera. The same thief, dressed as a policeman, intruded himself to her ladyship, and under the pretence of identifying the stolen property, managed to obtain the other earring, together with a purse of money. The cheat was not discovered for some days, until inquiry was made at the police-office. The officers have been after him, but with little chance of success."

TWEEDLE-DUM AND TWEEDLE-DEE.

"Humph!" said the peer, nettled at being caught in his own gin. 'But, sir, I mean the lands of Greece and Italy."

"Oh, my lord, now I understand you. But, to tell you the truth, I never purchase so far from home. I can make ten per cent, in my purchase of lands at home, which I am quite content with in the way of snug investment. Besides, if I were to purchase in Italy and Greece, as you say, I should be expected often to go and see the property, or perhaps be obliged to live there part of my time, and that I could never bear. I am told there is no place in the world like London for me."

"Ah, ha! sir," rejoined the peer; "I see your notion of Grease goes not further than my lord mayor's feast, and your taste for Italian perfection no further than the flavour of Florence oil or Italian fish-sauce. Sir, you are in the right; yours is solid enjoyment; you are an enviable man. Pray, sir, how are markets?"

sake of solitude, on a Sunday. He eats roasta
beef, drinks port-wine, and moreover eats
his peas with his knife. I think I have
been told that he even eats cheese at his
dinner. How the deuce he came here I
know not. Let us make up to him: he will
remember me, and then I'll shew him up."

The two time-killers of the butterfly order
accordingly lounged about the room for a
time, venting their dull jokes upon old and
young, gay and grave, till at length they came
face to face with the West India merchant,
the time-killer of the bear kind. The peer
bowed, and peeped at the business man
through his glass for a moment, and in an
instant, with a second bow, of the utmost
suavity and condescension, extended his
hand, covered with his perfumed glove, with
"Glad to see you, Mr. D-: long time
since I have had that honour. You are just
arrived, I presume, from Italy and Greece,
those lands of beauty and enchantment. You
have been revelling among the arts in their
chosen resorts. I know you have a mind
suited to these things. Pray, sir-"

The business-man's mouth opened like the Thames tunnel, and he looked for a moment more as if the peer had been asking him to accept a bill for 1000l. sterling for his accommodation, than descanting upon Greece and Italy. The suddenness of the encounter in such a place deprived the business-man of that calm self-possession which never failed him when standing by the pedestal of the royal statue in the Exchange.

The business-man was just about to begin learned disquisition upon the new subject, but in an instant the peer was gone, and he heard a noisy chuckling laugh behind him, mingling with the harmony of the music. Somewhat chagrined, the man of wealth began to suspect the whole object of the conversation had been to make him ridiculous; and, lest he should be again singled out for another shewing-up, he hastily ordered his coach, and a short time soon placed him safely at his own willy at Camberwell, freed from quizzical peers, and all other people whose minds were not gifted, according to his estimate, with the ordinary principles of common sense.

These are the extremes of human nature, alike in their results, though different in the paths they pursue. They are both killers of time: the one kills time that he may, according to his own notion, die a greater man; the other kills time, lest time should kill him.

MEMOIRS OF A DOG.

(Concluded by a Friend.)

IT is with the most poignant howling, Mr. Editor, that it becomes my duty to announce to you the sudden and mysterious disappearance of our sleek and amiable autobiographer. He was last seen critically examining the contents of a butcher's tray, carelessly left upon the steps of a door in Panyeralley; for, as a friend, I do say no dog had a keener nose for a relish, or quicker dispatch at a purloin, surloin, I should rather say. Whether from an unmanly feeling of revenge the errant missionary cut short the existence of our friend, I cannot say; but of this we may be certain, that he has cut short his tale. Whether the benevolent society of sausagemakers will ever have the humanity to "The glory of other lands!" muttered retail his remains, it is impossible to conthe business-man, with the air of utter asto-jecture. It is a point for the curious. nishment. "I have purchased no other lands since I paid for those which your lordship lopped off from your estates in Warwickshire."

It is matter for high diversion to bring your
true business-men and your true timekillers
in close contact ;-to place them, as a painter
would say, in strong relief. Like inhabitants
of parts of the globe remote from each other,
they seem to have no language in common,
no mental currency that they can venture to
deal by. To the business-man it is like a
barter of goods, which, when they change "Ah-ch-my lord," at length stam-
hands, are not worth the trouble of stowing. mered out the merchant, "I beg a thousand
The business-man has a certain external pardons for being so remiss-I have not had
character, and a visnomy that none can mis-the honour of seeing your lordship since—”
take. The moment he enters the drawing-
room, where fashion and time-murder (in a
shape different from his own,) are the order
of the day, the gentle spirits are up in arms.
A crow descending among doves could not
excite a greater commotion. In an instant
he is viewed through the medium of a dia-
mond eyeglass, or the prejudice of a trifler's
understanding;—his caste is determined at

"No, sir, I know you have not," hastily interrupted the peer: "and how did you relish the glory of other lands?"

PUG.

NOTES OF THE WEEK,
THE GLORIES OF GOG.-"The wise men

of the East" have been sorely puzzled touch-
ing a point in the fine arts. Cheapside has
been in consternation, and the Poultry in an
uproar, while St. Mary Axe-or Simmery

Axe, according to the approved reading, as
given by the Rev. Mr. Dillon,-has sent
forth its critics to investigate the pheno-
menon. Had the illustrious Gog flourished
his club before the orbits of my Lord Fare-
brother, a more extraordinary sensation
could scarcely have been produced than the
discovery of a gigantic picture in the cel-
lars of Guildhall. At the court of aldermen
assembled on the occasion, it was gravely
adjudged to be a relic of antediluvian art,
and as such it has been received in the city,
until it was discovered, by one of those un-
lucky Marplots who know everything and
everybody, to be the work of Sir R. K.
Porter, and remembered it once hanging in!
the Egyptian Hall. Now, had this splendid
effort of talent been a "fine lively turtle,"
what a commotion would have been raised by
these gormandizers of green fat on its disap-
pearance what bustling, what advertising,
what despair-would have ensued among¦
those commentators on calipash or had it
been a fat buck, sent by the minister, what
sighs and groans would have attended its
loss! But a mere picture-a work of art
our only surprise is, that it has not been
long ago made serviceable to the citizens,-
cut up into tarpaulins for treacle-vats, or
converted into coal-sacks for some Durham-
lane defaulter. Poor Sir Robert! had he
known the store these gods of gain would set
upon his anxious labour of years, he would
surely have bestowed it upon worthier ob-
jects. It will be an example to meu of genius
never to give them anything; make them
pay, and the greasy curmudgeons will
remember you so long as they live, and their

children after them.

TEA PARTY EXTRAORDINARY.-Poor Lord Gambier has departed, it is true; but he has left behind him those who do not neglect the field in which he toiled. Witness the following, from a country newspaper:

"The third tea-party of the Preston Teinperance Society was held at the Exchange Rooms on Christmas day. Their tea-kettle was a huge boiler containing two hundred gallons, and the company amounted to twelve hundred persons. Forty reformed drunkards officiated as waiters."

What think you of that for a tea-party? And the waiters-reformed drunkards-most suspicious characters. How the poor devils must have hitched their waistbands at the sight of the scalding catlap, and groaned for the defunct glories of gin-and-water!

T

are merely sinecures for clergymen, who
hardly value the preferment themselves. But
the moment an effort is made to remove the
nuisance of tenantless churches and noisome
churchyards, than suddenly arise a host of
scribbling raggamuffins, who pounce upon
the subject to flatter the prejudices of the
weak, and earn their wretched meal at the
expense of decency and honesty.

Hear the miserable dogs; they bark after
this fashion:

"Britons, Christians, men! spurn the unholy attempt, and nobly resolve to protect the altars and consecrated grounds of your country and your God!"

These "altars" have been long since deserted, and the "consecrated grounds," so pathetically bewailed, are stinking pests in the heart of society, vomiting plague and pestilence, which all well-wishers to mankind would gladly see abolished.

We would wager a trifle that the peuman of this pretty bit of the pathetical is some gintleman from the sister isle, who would care more for a roasted potato than all the altars and consecrated grounds in Christendom.

RUSH OF ROYALTY.-Sir Martin Shee's

late performance has excited a noble emula-
tion among the members of the Royal family
to possess the portrait of their illustrious
relative. Violent amiable animosities have
been the consequence; and this unfortunately
has extended to the other aud humbler
classes of his Majesty's subjects. The town
is in an uproar from one end to the other to
possess themselves of the king's picture, and
an unheard-of abundance of lying, cheating,
and swearing, is in requisition to procure an
abundance of copies.

THE PATRIARCH'S PENCHANT. - The
French are paragons of puffing: we are not
bad, but our neighbours beat us hollow.
The following advertisement appeared in the
National of last week:

less complex in its management. His lordship's attention was directed to the appearance of the gentleman's hands, which were peculiar.

"Ah, my lord! I see;" exclaimed the advocate: "but that ought to convince your lordship of the extreme disinterestedness of my opinion in this matter. I am not a soap

maker, and have less occasion for the article than any man in England.

"Sir," replied his lordship, looking at the speaker fixedly in his countenance, "I see prima facie evidence of the truth of your

assertion."

We never knew his lordship as a wag before.

FINE ARTS.

We have received several beautiful specimens of engraving; but their late arrival precludes the possibility of more than a notice this week. We cannot, however, allow the opportunity to pass without expressing our admiration of a work of art, published by Harding and King, Cornhill, "The Citation of Wickliffe:" it abounds in situation and effect. Next week it shall be done justice to. Major's work, likewise, and several others,

shall have our earliest attention.

MUSIC.

WE cannot this week enter into the state of music and the situation of musicians in London so fully as we could wish; next week we shall have our say more fully. In the meantime, we give the chit-chat of the musical world.

It grieves us to state that Mr. Wade, the author of Meet me by moonlight alone," is confined for debt in Horsemonger-lane prison; and we hear that a brother composer, who wished to raise only 201. to release him, called upon all the music-sellers for that purpose, and actually succeeded in obtaining "Noah's Wine. The vine which pro- between them all the sum of 1.! It is duces it is to be traced, according to tradi-time that something be done for our music tion, to that which the good father Noah planted when he came out of the ark. In order to make it known at the soirées which are now commencing, it will be sold at present for four francs a bottle, but afterwards the price will be raised to six francs. Nectar ambrosia-are nothing compared to this It made the good father Noah tipsy, which is saying everything. The patriarching was not a man to get tipsy on bad wine."

wine.

Barry Cornwall must have had this in his eye when he says "Wine, old wine!"

This specimen is equal to the gentleman who advertised "pearl milk," and placed, as a nota bene, “The utmost value given for old pearls!"

and our composers, or we may very soon chance to find every one of them in the same unhappy situation in which Mr. Wade is.

Miss H. Cawse is at last going to be married to a tea-dealer in the city, by name Thomas Strong. It being a matter of notoriety that this very amiable and talented young lady is equally as fond of the refresh

beverage as her husband, she has been heard repeatedly to exclaim, "O how I love my T. Strong!

There is a romantic opera to be produced shortly at the Victoria theatre, upon the subject of the Sylphid, the music by Mr. Barnett, which report speaks of in the highest possible manner. The style of the music is A GLORIOUS APPEAL.-Never was the said to be quite original, and unlike any story of the man and the ass so completely SOAP AT A DISCOUNT. We heard last opera ever produced. Should it succeed, it exemplified as the endeavours of the autho-week of a gentleman who was deputed by the will be no small triumph to the managers of rities to consolidate the city churches. It soapmakers to wait upon Lord Althorp re- the Victoria theatre, that, while the prohas long been a crying evil that so many specting the remaining duty on soap, to urge, prietor of the patent theatres is setting his churches should remain endowed in the city that as the same expense of collecting re-face against all native musical talent, they of London, without being able to muster a mained as before, whether it would not be are cherishing it; and it will be moreover a decent congregation among the lot. They advisable to abolish the duty for some other pride to them, that they have produced the

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