fondled their kittens, helped them with a little money when they were pinched to pay the doctor's bill; and neither playing the inquisitor into their concerns nor their consciences; neither wearying them with lectures, nor pampering them with alms, bettered the hearts she was warming towards herself." Now is not Honor a dear creature, we ask? the fact is, we mean to look out for such another immediately, and therefore cannot wait a moment longer to introduce her lover, Delaval Fitz-Arthur.-Reader, prithee pray for our search after happiness.' Friendship's Offering for 1827. Lupton Relfe, Cornhill. Although the birth of this charming new-comer" has not yet been announced, we have been fortunate enough to obtain a peep at the child of promise, which we can confidently assert, not only bears a family name to its elder brothers and sisters, but can even boast of additional charms and graces. To drop from so homely a metaphor, into a plain matter of fact, the Offering for 1827, will be published on the date of our present number; and from the hasty glance we have had of its contents, we can phophecy that there will be a vigorous struggle for the palm of superiority between this knighterrant of the muses, and its rivals which are yet to come on the field. When we say that the claims of "Friendship's Offering" are supported by the first professors of literature and art, our readers will, we think, agree with us in our good opinion. We cannot resist an opportunity of presenting a taste of the good things this elegant bijou contains, reserving for another opportunity our intention of contrasting its pretensions with those of its forth-coming competitors. Mrs. Hemans (whose name would alone shed a charm round the volume) has two or three beautiful pieces, from which we select the following: LAST RITES. BY MRS. HÉMANS. "By the mighty Minster's bell, By the colors half-mast high O'er the sea, hung mournfully; Know, a Prince hath died! By the drum's dull muffled sound, By the arms that sweep the ground, By the volleying musket's tone, Speak ye of a soldier gone In his manhood's pride. By the chaunted psalm, that fills, Reverently, the ancient hills,* Learn, that, from his harvests done, Peasants bear a brother on, To his last repose, By the pall of snowy white, Through the yew-trees gleaming bright, By the garland on the bier, Weep! a maiden claims thy tear-- Broken is the rose. A custom still retained at rural funerals in some parts of England and Wales. Which is tenderest rite of all?--- Requiem o'er the monarch's head, Farewell gun for warrior dead, Herdsman's funeral hymn ? Tells not each of human woe? Each, of hope and strength brought low? If one chastening thought it brings, Ere life's day grow dim!" Although, as we have before said, there is a cluster of the highest names that sustain our literary pre-eminence, enrolled amongst the contributors of this beautiful little volume; we think we cannot give a greater proof of the thoral importance of celebrity, when compared to internal merit, than by extracting a nervous and highly-wrought little piece which is anonymous: THE DYING BRIGAND. "She stood before the dying man, And his glance is dim that had seen you fly, Look, dastards! how the brave can die--- "By his blood ye have tracked him to his lair :--- He that durst harm one single hair, I cannot weep, for my brain is dry,--- But my aim is sure, and the shaft may fly,-- And the bubbling life-blood flow! "Yet leave me, while dim life remains, To kiss away these gory stains, To close this beamless eye !-- Ye will not !---no,---he triumphs still, "His was the power that held in thrall, Wrongs, insults, injuries, thrust him forth, A bandit-chief to dwell ;-- How he avenged his slighted worth, "His spirit lives in the mountain-breath, Rock,---stream,---hath done the work of death, That which hath been, again may be !-- Aye, by yon fleeting sun, Who stirs, no morning ray shall see,--- Defiance shone in her flashing eye, But her heart beat wild with fear:- And the death-damp chills her brow ;--- Slaves, do your office now!" Our hasty glance must conclude with the following" Stanzas," which have all the delicacy of expression, and sweetness of feeling, of their deservedly popular author: BY HENRY NEELE, ESQ. "Sing me a lay,---not of knightly feats, But of sorrow, and suff'ring, and death, let it tell-- Of the owlet's shriek, and the passing bell, Of joys that have been, and have ceas'd to be ;-- That is the lay,---the lay for me. Twine me a wreath,---but not of the vine, Of primrose, or myrtle, or eglantine; Let not the fragrant rose breathe there, Or the slender lily her white bosom bare, But twine it of poppies so dark and red, And cypress, the garland that honors the dead Bring me a robe,---not such as is worn Yet such as the great and the mighty must wear; Oh! for a rest---not on Beauty's breast, Not 'neath the canopy Pomp has spread, Not in the tent where shrouds Valour his head; feed there, Where the sod weighs it down, but not sorrow or care: The grave, the grave, the home of the free ;-- That is the rest,---the rest for me." The Editor (T. K. Hervey) has some very beautiful lines from his own pen, which we do not intend to let escape our "admiring ken." GRAVITIES AND GAIETIES OF THE MONTH. INSTANCE OF EXTRAORDINARY DEVOTION. When we tell our readers that we have another martyr to record, who fell a sacrifice to unquenchable affection, they will doubtless imagine we have a most melancholy tale to relate, "Of all love's thousands hopes, its many fears, Its morning blushes, and its evening tears," We hardly know whether to look grave or smile, when we say, that the object of the modern Werter's affection, was a goose! of which, as one of the papers inform, he was passimately fond. The author of "Smiles and Tears" has truly observed, that there is a close sympathy between the heart and the stomach;* and this unfortunate individual verified it by making a supper of the object of his attachment. An inquest has been held on his body, and a verdict was found," died of suffocation." He is, however, not without a parallel in the records of romantic devotion to the good things of this life;---an equally enthusiastic being entertained as ardent an affection---for buttered crumpets, but "The course of true love never did run smooth;" and Indigestion was the monster who marred his happiness, and forbid any future intercourse. With a resolution worthy of a better fate, this unhappy votary of love determined upon taking a last farewell of his affection's choice, for without which he felt life was insupportable, and then relinquish his existence. The crumpets were brought hot, and nicely buttered; he threw at them a pitiful look, never did they look so lovely before"at one fell swoop," he devoured eleven! The bile rose---Indigestion already racked,--here throwing a long and lingering look on the remaining one, be seized his pistols which lay on the table, and in five minutes he was a sacrifice to an unconquerable affection for buttered crumpets! BOOTS, A BLACK LEG. A country paper informs us that the boots,' of the Three Tuns Inn, Newcastle, decamped with 125l. of the hostler's money, with such a celerity, as to induce his pursuers to believe he was the 'seven league boots,' mentioned in ancient history. When hostlers carry 125l. in loose cash about them, we shall not be surprised at hearing of the stable boy defrauding the scullion of her 'estate in Yorkshire.' BIBLE SOCIETY FLUMMERY. By a report in the Maidstone Journal, we are informed, that the Fourteenth Annual Meeting of the Kent Aux-(query) Hoax-iliary Bible Society, took place at the TownHall in Maidstone, some Thursday in the last month. When, notwithstanding the rain came down in torrents, to the detriment of the reverend gentlemen, "parsons grey," and of the ladies' best satin gowns, Lord Bexley and several other old ladies were present, together with a few young ones, and a numerous party of gentlemen, piously inclined. Several long speeches were made, of which we cannot reproach ourselves with reading one; a fact, however, came out, on which we cannot help remarking: "The receipts of the Parent Society, during the past year, were 82,7681. 2s. 9d.; and its expenditures, 96,014l. 13s. 7d. And it is under engagements at home and abroad to the amount of 25,876l. 17s. 6d. ! What! one hundred and twenty thousand pounds in one year for bibles? This item does not simply express volumes, but, as Mr. Swallow in the farce says, it speaks "libraries." One of the reverend gentlemen is reported to have delivered himself in the following strain; speaking of the bible, he prettily says, "It is the word of the spirit---it is the word of God---it is the spirited weapon of our warfare, mighty through God, pulling down strong holds, it is the incorruptible seed of the kingdom---it is the milk of babes, and strong meat for those of riper years---it is the bread of life, sweeter than honey to the taste, piercing even to the dividing asunder of the joint and marrow---it is more precious than tubies, &c." Precious indeed, if in one year 120.000l. has been expended in its distribution, at least to the pockets of those from whom it was canted. Far be it our wish, that the word Mr. Alaric Watts, author of " Poetical Sketches, &c." has announced a new volume of poems, entitled "Lyrics of the Heart;" why not call it the "Sorrows of the Stomach?" We are sure the subject would take, and seriously recommend it to his notice. The above pathetic tale would make an admirable sketch from private life. of God should be withheld from the poorest and meanest of our fellow-creatures; but, when in one short year,' a sum like that is mentioned as the cost, we confess that the fact appears too vast for our comprehension. OUR NATIONAL MORALS. In one week there appears to be no less than four suicides by females, in consequence of seduction, and after desertion by their betrayers. This fact, and the paper that gives us the intelligence, is a fine satire on its name, "The Englishman." The same print contains the report of a trial, "Manville v. Thompson," in which the aggression is the same crime: the party injured was a girl in service, and the defendant a shoemaker, residing in Grace-church-street, who accomplished his detestable purpose under the solemn promise of matrimony. Thus it is that these poor, confiding creatures are rided and abandoned; the love shown to them is of that vampire-like description, which invariably seeks the destruction of its object. In the latter case, the ruined one met with a reverse, or rather her natural protector was compensated for his wounded feelings by a pecuniary award; but what did these four poor wretches experience for the punishment of their errors? death, and that the most awful of any, that of their own seeking. While our religion forbids our interfering with the most solemn dispensation of our Creator, the termination of existence, our feelings too readily admit of a pardon for those who have committed the act under such circumstances. Can the heart of man imagine the alternate throws of anguish and shame which assailed the breasts of these unfortunate women ere they wrought themselves up to the dreadful act? Of the "hope deferred which maketh the heart sick," of the probability of treachery and desertion---of the full certainty of shame and ruin, and all the dreadful consequences. How the brain must burn, how the heart swell, with what insufferable pangs must the soul be riven, ere the mind can admit of that most horrible of all remedies for a murdered happiness, SELFDESTRUCTION. What scalding tears of repentance, what a maddening sense of undeserved injury, the sting from the serpent it nestled in her bosom; what awful struggles between conscience and her feelings before the bloody deed was committed. Well may "the angels weep" at these "fantastic tricks;" in one word, hell, black and horrid as it is, has no parallel for the monster who wilfully seduces a woman and then betrays her. 66 Of all phrases without meaning, surely the one which is in every body's mouth, "English Liberty," is the most empty. We cannot but shrink at the contemptible ideas which Aliens must have of our much boasted national freedom, when the following case, which is one of a thousand similar others, proves its non-entity :---The Courier of the 18th instant, reports, that a Mr. Edward Vitris, a foreign gentleman, was brought before the Magistrates of Marlborough Street, from the St. Giles's Watch-house, on the charge of Marooney, a watchman, of being drunk and disorderly. In the investigation of the case, it clearly appeared, that Mr. Vitris was quietly parting with some friends, when he was peremptorily ordered by the watchman to go on!" Mr. Vitris, perceiving from the man's manner that he was drunk, caught hold of his sleeve, for the purpose of ascertaining his number, when the fellow collared him, and conveyed him to the watch-house, where he was confined till the following morning. The Magistrate fined the watchman 5s. and suspended him from his duty for a fortnight. Taking it for granted that this conviction was legal, the law of England appears to be, that any respectable gentleman, however high in rank and character, may be taken in custody by a dirty vagabond, whose only authority is a rattle and lanthorn, incarcerated in a filthy hole of a prison with drunken rogues and felons, to the great violence of his own feelings, and the serious anxiety of his friends, till his case is heard, when the aggressor is fined a crown, and kept suspended from his employ for a fortnight---a punishment which only keeps him in idleness. An English gentleman must acquire strange notions of national independence, when his personal liberty and private character is ever at the mercy of the lowest and most contemptible retainer of justice. We do not include in these a story, which found its way into the newspapers, of a seduction and suicide which never occurred except in the addle-brains of the fool who played off the hoax. We need not, God knows, require the aid of imagination for instances of the blackness and depravity of man, when he is daily convincing us of his own brutal nature. |