Rose from the stream That dabbled my feet, as I glided by!" Speak, oh! speak !— And hung on the lids of thy staring eye? ""Twas blood, 'twas blood! And it rose like a flood,And for this I scream'd as I glided by !" Owl! that lovest the midnight sky! Again, again, Where are the twain? Look! while the moon is hurrying by?— Look in once more, Through the grated door :""Tis a soul that prays in agony!" Owl! that hatest the morning sky! I must pray, in charity, Miserere, Domine! A titled female, whose character would not bear the strictest investigation, being desirous of admission to the court of the late Queen Charlotte, and well aware that a light reputation was by no means a card of introduction to such a presence, requested a lady who was about her Majesty's person to exert her influence on the occasion. Accordingly, at a convenient opportunity, the request was submitted to the Queen. Some minutes elapsed, and no reply was given. Presently the applicant ventured to articulate, "What shall I tell my friend, madam, are your Majesty's commands?"-" Tell her?" said the rigid You may see, through the boughs, his move moralist, in a voice and tone that struck less eye!" terror to the heart of the petitioner, "Tell her that you had not the impudence to ask me." THE FALSE ONE. By Thomas Haynes Bayly. I knew him not-I sought him notHe was my father's guest; I gave him not one smile more kind Than those I gave the rest. He sat beside me at the board, The choice was not my own; But oh! I never heard a voice With half so sweet a tone. And at the dance we met again- Of that beguiling voice : And told me he had never seen A face he thought so fair. I wonder'd why my old pursuits *The above lines were written in reference to the murder of Mr. Weare, a few years ago. Alas! I might have guess'd the cause; And what could make me braid my hair, And study to improve The form that he had deign'd to praise What could it be, but-love? Oh! little knew I of the world, And less of man's career; I thought each smile was kindly meant, And little dreamt how oft before He smiles upon another now, And in the same sweet tone He breathes to her those winning words I cannot blame his choice; Henry the Fourth, passing through a small town of France, perceived the corporation assembled to congratulate him on his arrival. Just as the principal magistrate had commenced a tedious oration, an ass began to bray; on which the king, turning towards the place where the noisy animal was, said gravely, "Gentlemen, one at a time, if you please." " FORGET THEE? By the Rev. John Moultrie. Forget thee?"-If to dream by night, and muse on thee by day; If all the worship deep and wild a poet's heart can pay, If prayers in absence, breathed for thee to heaven's protecting power, If winged thoughts that flit to thee-a thousand in an hour, If busy Fancy blending thee with all my future lot, If this thou call'st "forgetting," thou, indeed, shalt be forgot! "Forget thee?"-Bid the forest birds forget their sweetest tune! "Forget thee?"-Bid the sea forget to swell beneath the moon; Bid the thirsty flowers forget to drink the eve's refreshing dew; Thyself forget thine" own dear land," and its "mountains wild and blue;" Forget each old familiar face, each long remember'd spot: When these things are forgot by thee, then thou shalt be forgot! AUGUST, 1831. Keep, if thou wilt, thy maiden peace, still calm and fancy-free; For, God forbid! thy gladsome heart should grow less glad for me; Yet, while that heart is still unwon, oh! bid not mine to rove, But let it muse its humble faith, and uncomplaining love; If these, preserved for patient years, at last avail me not, Forget me then ;-but ne'er believe that thou canst be forgot! A few Sundays since a simple-looking country lad, to whose lot fell the leading question in the Catechism, "What is your name?" replied, "Sorrell.""Who gave you that name?"-"Why, all the boys in the parish, sir," whiningly rejoined the red-haired youth. THE FORSAKEN. Gay forms were thronging round me, And I thought I heard him sigh. And marble seem'd that brow. Fearing perhaps his form so changed That hopeless love might tell. Her, his own bride, who knelt too there, I saw his quivering lips were press'd He thought not then, alas! that I, His first love, saw them there. Would love him as I loved, Would see that love unmoved. I ne'er shall be that happy thing That I was wont to be, Scenes that such joy to others bring, Will have no charms for me; N Notices of Books. "STILL PLEASED TO PRAISE, YET NOT AFRAID TO BLAME." ROXOBEL. By Mrs. Sherwood. 3 Vols. London, 1831. Houlston and Son. MRS. SHERWOOD has written more volumes than any woman in existence, and we rejoice to say that the present work, in point of merit, yields to none of her previous efforts. The following extract is from a description of an entertainment given by three maiden ladies of a certain age. "At length, the folding-doors of the drawing-room were thrown open by Mr. Porter, (who was ever alive to the duties of his high office,) and we entered; and some of us being inspired by the juice of the grape, and others by the exhilarating influence of the ladies' smiles, we ventured to intermingle ourselves among the fair ones of the company, and to take our places here and there, on sofas, chairs, or stools, as our will inclined, or as circumstances permitted. "As Lucy and Sophia were without the circle, deeply engaged in conversation with their companions, Eugenius and Theodore, while Mrs. Beauchamp was entrenched between two of the Misses Finchley, I was driven, rather by a sort of repelling force exercised upon me by the rest of the ladies, than by any inherent quality of attraction possessed by the person herself, to ensconce myself in an immense chair next to Mrs. Winifred, who was undoubtedly by far the least unpleasant female in the room, after those whose names I have just mentioned. She immediately entered into conversation with me in a very lively manner; and the doctor bringing his forces in the same direction, our corner became very animated, and Mrs. Winifred laughed very heartily, each merry peal being repeated in fainter murmurs by the ever ready echoes on her left. "In the meantime, the steward, who had swallowed down with his wine his usual awe of his household goddesses, (that is to say, the Mrs. Helmsleys,) and Mr. Barnaby Semple, who was in some degree similarly circumstanced, made them selves very busy among the ladies, in handing the cake, which they took off from the massive silver salvers held by the footmen, for the purpose of showing their superior gallantry. They likewise added to this piece of service various other little attentions, such as are often very useful in varying the tedium of an afternoon visit, and in passing away some awkward mo ments. At length, all appearances of tea, cake, coffee, and salvers, having passed away, there was a kind of pause, during which the ladies busied themselves in drawing on their gloves. "Mr. Airley,' said Mrs. Winifred, who always treated me with great respect, you will not, I hope, be offended at our oldfashioned custom but as this is a sort of gala-day, which comes only once a year, we always conclude it with a dance, and in this dance every respectable person who has been invited to the several tables is allowed to mingle. It has been a custom in the family from our grandfather's time, and one from which we never depart.' "Yes,' repeated Mrs. Grizzy, 'it was a custom in the family in our grandfather's time, and one from which we never depart.' "From which we never depart,' reechoed Mrs Judy. And why should you, ladies,' I replied, since it makes the poor people happy? and though I am not myself a dancer, yet I shall have great amusement in witnessing the scene.' "Mrs. Winifred politely expressed her regret at my never dancing, saying, Really, Mr. Airley, I am sure you can dance, and well, too. I cannot be mistaken in the carriage of one who is well acquainted with that elegant accomplishment.' "Well acquainted with that elegant accomplishment,' said Mrs. Grizzy. "Elegant accomplishment,' said Mrs. Judy." DR. LARDNER'S CABINET LIBRARY. Vol. VI. Historical Memoirs of the House of Bourbon. Vol. I. Longman and Co. This is a well written and entertaining work, which, at the present moment, cannot but prove highly interesting. Another time we shall enter upon the subject more at length; we can this month only find room for the following extract; "The long trains worn by the ladies in the fifteenth century were frequently the subject of vehement declamations to the preachers, who, seeking to decry them, entitled them diabolical inventions. The preacher Maillard, who preached at Paris, in the church of St. Jean-en-Grève, in 1494 and in 1508, exclaims strongly, and in almost all his sermons, against these long trains. In the latter year he says, and you, my painted ladies, who wear your trains trussed up; and you, women, who wear chains and trains, &c., and you, my lords, who suffer your daughters to wear trains, and your sons huge sleeves.' But the wearing of trains and chains, and the use of large sleeves, were not the only vices that the preachers of that time cried out against, and perhaps with reason, in a strain that would not a little astonish a modern audience." JOURNAL OF A RESIDENCE IN NORMANDY. By J. A. St. John, Esq. 1831. Edinburgh, Constable and Co.; London, Hurst, Chance, and Co. A work of little novelty, and one, consequently, not replete with entertainment. In truth, Normandy is so near the English coast, that every scribbler who feels an itch for writing travels, and can find words to spin out an octavo volume, has now only to avail himself of the facility which steam affords, and to take a trip across the Channel, and in a very short time his "journal" issues from the press, which, like the mountain in labour, too frequently, but particularly in such cases, produces insignificance. We will, however, do the writer of the present work the justice to remark, that a new light is given to subjects heretofore indifferently dwelt on, and that his powers of description are good. To economizers on the continent he thus addresses himself: "With respect to the propriety or rationality of emigrating to France, I can say but little, as most persons who take such a step have particular reasons for so doing, which do not admit of being set aside by any other considerations whatever. It is certain, however, that they who go to reside in France for purposes of economy, very quickly discover that they might have lived much more economically at home. There are very few things cheaper in France than in England, excepting wine and brandy; and, with the aid of these, a man may certainly kill himself for a trifle in that country. House-rent, as I have shown above, is far from being lower than in towns of equal size in England; and it is considerably higher, if we consider the quality of the house, and of the furniture which is put into it when it is called furnished. If persons ever save any thing in France, it is by rigidly denying themselves all those pleasures and comforts which they were accustomed to enjoy in their own country; but this they might do at home, with far less trouble, and a much less painful sacrifice, only removing to a little distance from the scene of their prosperity. Indeed, there are not, I imagine, in the whole world, persons more to be pitied than English economizers on the Continent. Cut off from all old associations, they become restless, dissatisfied, unhappy. They are seldom sufficiently numerous in any place, to allow of each person among them finding society exactly according to his taste; and, whatever they may pretend to the contrary, they never thoroughly enjoy the society of the natives. Reduced to the mere animal gratifications, they eat, drink, sleep, and creep on in discontent and obscurity to their graves. Some of them, it is true, enjoy that sort of excitement which gambling furnishes, and which people without brains mistake for pleasure; but these persons are quickly reduced to a state more wretched than that of the mere eating and drinking emigrants, and generally end by furnishing prematurely a subject to the French demonstrators of anatomy." If Mr. St. John refers to Normandy alone, we agree with him. The inhabitants are there completely Anglicised; the charges for food, raiment, &c. entirely English. In the south of France, however, it is different, and there we would advise such of our readers to emigrate as may desire to practise retrenchment, and to live well at a reasonable cost. The following passage is not destitute of interest: "Many of the English, who have the misfortune to lose friends in France, being aware of the small respect in which the grave is held there, contrive to have their remains conveyed over to their own country; and the methods to which they have recourse are various. A lady, whose child died at Caen, caused the body to be packed up as plate, got it passed, I know not how, through the custom-house, and put on board the steam packet to England. She herself sat by it upon deck all the way over, suppressing her tears, lest the sailors should suspect the truth, and, in their superstitious terror of a corpse, throw her treasure overboard. An English gentleman, whose friend died last year in Normandy, buried a quantity of stone in a coffin, in order apparently to comply with the law, but had the body embalmed, and put into a chest, in which it lay for several months, in a merchant's cellar, before an opportunity of shipping it for England occurred." DIBDIN'S SUNDAY LIBRARY. Vol. IV. Longman and Co. 1831. The present volume contains sermons by Bishops Huntingford, Hobart, I. B. Sumner, Archdeacon Nares, Archbishop Lawrence, the Rev. Messrs. Haggit, Shuttleworth, and Hewlett-by stating which we sufficiently prove its excellence. The frontispiece, a portrait of the first-named Bishop, engraved by T. A. Dean, from Sir Thomas Lawrence, is one of the most exquisite specimens of the art which we have for a long time witnessed. PIETAS PRIVATA-The Book of Private Devotion; a series of Prayers and Meditations, with an Introductory Essay on Prayer, chiefly from the Writings of Hannah More. Third Edition. London, James Nesbit, 1831. DAILY COMMUNINGS, Spiritual and Devotional, on Select Portions of the Book of Psalms. By the Right Rev. George Horne, Bishop of Norwich. London, James Nesbit, 1831. These are works which ought to be in the possession of every practical Christian; the first has, we are glad to see, reached a third edition. It is a beautiful little volume, the title of which will sufficiently indicate its contents, and they are really excellent. The Meditations and Prayers surpass, in beauty and true piety, those of any other similar publication. And who has not read Bishop Horne's admirable Commentaries of the Book of Psalms, of which the latter volume is an abridgment? and who can read them without being struck with their pure and holy worth? This may likewise be conveniently carried in the pocket, and happy are they who derive pleasure from a constant intercourse with such companions. And sometimes a tear And ere to bed Go we, go we, We kneel on the knee, But we are reviewing the Beacon, not the LITERARY BEACON. Part I. Published criticism. We like this periodical; it is fearless-it - A CATECHISM OF PHRENOLOGY; illustrative That merry, turtle-loving, joke-enjoying THE STAFF OFFICER; or, The Soldier of Few books have been more illiberally con- |