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were thoughtless ones, that, in guilt and disgrace, could affect to be merry. I and a few friends happened to stand on the pier, nearly opposite to the hulk; some relatives of the convicts were beside us; they were not allowed to approach the vessel; but they could keep up a conversation, though in rather a loud tone. An old hard-featured woman, one of the party already mentioned, called out, "Tommy Delinour."

"Here, mother," said a young voice from the ship.

"Tommy, jewel, how d'ye get on ?"
"Oh, elegant! elegant !"
"Tommy,"
"Ma-a-m."

“Och, aye,” said the old one, in a low
tone, "my poor boy was always mannerly,
though he'd give me the lie, or spit in my
face, and call me an ould strap, still he
was always mannerly. When I call'd
him he never said 'What?' No, no, it
was alwaysMa-a-m.'”
"Tommy."

"Ma-a-m."

characters and ideas; this was what one
might naturally expect in such a place;
with one gentleman in particular I felt
rather amused. While dinner was pre-
paring, he undertook the edification of us
all, by forcing an ugly-looking little boy
of his to spout some theatrical scraps.
"Here, John, my dear, John Philip-we
called him John Philip, gentlemen, after
the great Kemble-come, give us Ham-
let's soliloquy." Forth started the young
tragedian, raised his right arm, turned
out his toes, and, "Thoby, or not Thoby,
dthath is the custion." I could not stand
this;
I burst out laughing, and in the
laugh I was uproariously joined by all
present, with the exception of the ad-
miring but disappointed father. The
owner of the house at length entered the
room," and dinner was served as he
came." He took his seat at the head of
the table, and went through the ordinary
task of helping and carving in a very
passable manner. After the removal of
the cloth, the "materials" were intro-
duced, and it struck me that, at their

"How is Owney Doyle and Johnny introduction, our host should have disapGaney ?"

66

"Oh, elegant! elegant!" Tommy, jewel, will they let me send you any bakky ?"

"Oh, aye, mother, as much as I can smoak; any thing but ballets or whisky. But how's my aunt Judy, and my aunt Nelly, and my aunt Betty, and my uncle Jack? Is Jenny Doyle out yet ?"

"No, Tommy, not yet." -The aunts and the uncles were, probably, names for some brother thieves; at least I thought so. Tommy called out once more.

66 Mother, how's Davy Carroll ?" "Oh, bad luck to Davy Carroll," said the old woman, again lowering her tone; "it was he, and the likes of him, brought my poor boy to this; but, Tommy,' raising her voice, "why don't you ax for Mary Jones ?"

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"Oh, mother, let me alone! Tell her not to buckle herself to any body till I come home; do, mother, and we'll have one merry night. Go home now, mother, do, and don't get drunk."-Here the con

versation ceased.

I and my friends proceeded through the town to the great car-stand, and there, for the first time, the thought struck us of taking our dinner at Dunleary. Burton at that time kept a sort of table d'hote; at five o'clock you were sure of getting an excellent dinner, at a moderate charge; the guests usually amounted to twenty, sometimes more; on this day we found the muster rather strong; the company already assembled appeared respectable enough, but varied wonderfully in their

I had

peared. It is an awkward thing for a man
to preside at his own table, giving the
word to drink, while those who follow his
direction are obliged to pay for their
complaisance. This personage, however,
seemed not overburdened with delicacy;
he had none of these punctilious scruples;
he sat steadily, drank freely, and called
boldly upon those around him to follow
his example. I was rather disappointed
in the evening's entertainment.
been at houses of this kind already, and
found some of them rich in social attrac-
tions; toasts, sentiments, sayings, and
songs, have gone round, and kept us all
in sprightliness and good-humour for
many a long winter's evening. Here,
however, there was nothing of the kind;
deep drinking seemed the business of the
hour, and the little conversation that arose
was quite of a common-place character.-
Robins's London and Dublin Magazine.

RETALIATION.

A Provincial Tale.

BY THE "LITTLE UNKNOWN."

A FEW years since, at some provincial college,
(Places which always rhyme, if nothing else,
with knowledge)

A wight was educated, whose discerning,
When added to an extraordinary mass of
learning,

Distinguished him on every occasion,
As worthy of a first-rate situation,
Above his fellow scholars, and his fellow men,
Thus thought a genius-ergo, he grew lazy
Ergo, grew poor-what then?

Prest by privation,
Ergo, he grew crazy.

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ON THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER. 'Tis o'er-in that long sigh she pastTh' enfranchised spirit soars at last! And now I gaze with tearless eye On what to view was agony. That panting heart is tranquil now, And heav'nly calm that ruffled brow, And those pale lips which feebly strove To force one parting smile of love, Retain it yet-soft, placid, mild, As when it graced my living child Oh! I have watched with fondest care, To see my opening flow'ret blow, And felt the joy which parents share, The pride which fathers only know.

And I have sat the long, long night,
And mark'd that tender flower decay,
Not torn abruptly from the sight,
But slowly, sadly, waste away

The spoiler came, yet paused, as though
So meek a victim check'd his arm,
Half gave, and half withheld the blow,
As forced to strike, yet loath to harm.

We saw that fair cheek's fading bloom,
The ceaseless canker-worm consume,
And gazed on hopelessly,

Till the mute suffering pictured there
Wrung from a father's lip a prayer,

Oh, God!-the prayer his child might die.
Ay, from his lip-the rebel heart
E'en then refused to bear its part.

But the sad conflict's past-'tis o'er,
That gentle bosom throbs no more!
The spirit's freed-through realms of light
Faith's eagle-glance pursues her flight
To other worlds, to happier skies;

Hope dries the tear which sorrow weepeth,
No mortal sound the voice which cries,
"The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth!"
Blackwood's Magazine.

The Selector;

AND

LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS.

PASSAGE FROM SOUTHAMP. TON TO HAVRE DE GRACE. THE passage by Dover takes the traveller from London to Paris about a hundred miles out of his way. Brighton is the point of the English coast nearest to Paris; but, though the opposite harbour of Dieppe is good, the embarkation and disembarkation at Brighton is exposed to all the violence of the winds and waves. The passage from Southampton may be performed in ten hours, and Havre is very little further than Dieppe from the capital of France.

Before we entered the harbour, our steward descended to extinguish a large lamp that burnt in the cabin; he gave us (t (that is, to me and my sons) our choice of going on deck, or staying below in the dark; we loitered, and were punished afterwards for our delay by breaking our shins against the cabin stairs. The vessel was not allowed to enter the port with a light on board; a lantern is hung out on the prow. The use of the lantern is evident; it is not quite so clear why our lights were to be put out; against an accidental fire this was no sufficient precaution; had we wished to set our vessel in a state of conflagration, and run her amongst the French shipping, nothing was requisite but a tinder-box, or a gallipot of phosphorus. Regulations seem

to be made sometimes, in order that those who are in employment may have something to do; work is invented for places, instead of places being created on account of work

We waited some little time for the officer of the port, who was to receive our passports. I stood on the deck, and looked around on the light-house, the shipping, and the lights from the windows; heard the mixture of French and English bandied in talk between us on board and those on shore, and was delighted with these assurances that we were restored to human life and society, and no longer tossed on the sea, where, as Homer says, there are no vintages. I quote this expression, not because I am insensible to the beauty of a poetical amplification, but for three reasons; first, to show my learning, a motive which I by no means approve, but leave it to be appreciated by other authors; secondly, because this epithet conveys precisely the reason of my dislike of sea voyages; Edie Ochiltre says, "the worst of a prison is, that one can't get out of it;" and I say, the worst of the sea is, that it is not dry land; an objection in both cases essential and fatal; thirdly, I wish to make a remark, which has, I believe, escaped all former commentators, that Homer had probably no more notion of lands in which there were no grapes, than the African prince of walking on the surface of a river.

The tide had raised our deck to the level of the quay; the clock struck twelve; it was now the anniversary of the birth of my younger son, and we set our feet on the soil of France. The other passengers had announced their intention of going in a mass to the English inn, where a part of my family, three months later, found, what was to be expected, high charges; and, what was not to be expected, plenty of bugs. Fearing a contest for beds amongst such a number, (for there were ten or twelve of us,) and the delay of getting them ready for so many, I went to the Hotel de la Ville du Havre, recommended by captain Wood, who conducted us thither, roused the sleeping family, introduced and left us!

M.

and Madame Marre appeared in nightcap and dressing-gown, very much resembling (1 say it with all due respect for very worthy persons,) the caricatures of French physiognomy exhibited in our print-shops. Madame Marre told the chamber-maid to show me the beds; I went up stairs, and on my return was asked, if I was contented with what the "bonne" had shown me. I have heard of an old lady who was very much of ended by being called good woman; and

the expression "la bonne" appeared to me a contemptuous one; such a novice was I, that I looked at the girl to see whether she took it as an affront or a compliment; she was quite unmoved. I told the mistress that the three beds were very good, and desired to see the sheets; they were more than damp; they might be said to be wet; to have them aired at one in the morning was out of the question; our resource was to do without them for that night. I know an English family who, arriving early in the evening at an inn in France, and, as a matter of course, ordering the sheets to be aired, were charged the next morning, five francs for fire-wood. Our sheets were aired on the next day, without any instructions on our part to that effect, according to the custom of the country, au soleil..

This sun enabled us to sit at an open window during our breakfast; for this meal we had French rolls, excellent Norman butter, and café au lait. The coffee usually served in England is considered by the French as no better than coffee and water; what was now furnished to us was so strong, that, though mixed with an equal quantity of boiling milk, it had more the taste of coffee than I have found in what was called very good coffee at those splendid and fatiguing assemblies, which the ladies call routs, at Bath and other towns,-where, in order that four persons may amuse themselves at whist in a creditable way, forty others are crowded together for the same laudable purpose.

It was Sunday; we went to mass; the church was crowded to excess; so many churches have been confiscated to the use of the nation, that, in the great towns, not enough of them remain for the use of the people. We went to the port to in quire after our trunks; it was low water, and our packet-boat, which rode so high in the night, was now hardly afloat; we went down into it by a ladder, and found that our goods had been sent to the custom-house; thither we bent our steps; the officer attended, a smart young man in a military dress; he ascertained the nature of the contents of my boxes, and the object of my journey, and gave no unnecessary trouble; he talked much of English commerce, and did not affect te conceal his satisfaction that it was "écrasé par les impôts." I ought therefore to believe in the sincerity of his wishes, that my journey in France might be as agreeable and advantageous as I myself desired. I now had to disengage myself from three out of five stout porters, who

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* Overwhelmed by duties.

stood in readiness to bear away my two
hair trunks and writing-desk; I told
them, two men could carry the whole;
they assured me it was impossible. I
then endeavoured to get rid of one at least
of the five, by placing the writing-desk
on one of the trunks, making a civil leave-
taking sign, at the same time, to the
man who seemed to consider the desk as
his share in this weighty matter;
the man
answered me by a low reverence, and by
taking the desk under his arm; the other
four seized each the ring of a trunk, and
all set off at full speed to the inn. No-
thing remained but to follow, and pay
them according to their number.

Four Years in France.

THE ROCK OF AVIGNON, AND THE PALACE OF THE POPES. THE rock, as it is called, of Avignon, has every appearance of having been se parated by the Rhone from the hills on the other side of the river. How or when this separation was effected, is a question that might puzzle a writer of theories on the formation of the earth. If we can believe, what philosophers would readily enough believe were not the fact asserted in the bible, that the earth was at one time covered with water, even the tops of the mountains, and if we can suppose also that currents existed in this deluge; then, on the subsiding of the waters, these currents might meet with the summits and ridges of hills, and work and wear for themselves a passage, the waters of the deluge gradually retiring, but, in the mean time, sustaining the currents at the requisite height. But humility in Scriptural interpretation is recommended by the remark, that the very first word of Scripture,"In the beginning," is incomprehensible and inexplicable.

On the southern slope of this rock is built the Palace of the Popes; as its roof is continued in one horizontal line, the height of the building at the south. ern extremity is enormous; its principal front is towards the west, overlooking a part of the city and the hills of Languedoc; it is now in a ruined and neglected state, as far as a building can be so which is still in use; part of it serves for a prison; another part is a caserne, of which the pope's chapel is the dormitory. Close upon the northern end of the palace is the cathedral; a church which, at the beginning of the revolution, was plundered of an immense quantity of silver and some gold plate, which was sent off to the national crucible at Paris; amongst other treasures was a silver bell of no very diminutive size.

The

tombs even were ransacked; a skull was brought to my house by my children's drawing-master, from which my younger son designed an admirable and edifying death's head. The model, I was assured, had been the cranium of a pope. They were beginning to repair this church, with the purpose of restoring it to its former destination. On one side of it is a little chapel with a dome, which served as the model for the dome of Ste. Gene viève. The copy is sufficiently exact.

Behind the palace, on the east, rises a tower, which, from having been used as an ice-house, was called the glacière, and the glacière of Avignon is a name ever memorable in the annals of horror. From the top of this tower five hundred, according to those who exaggerate; thirty, according to those who extenuate,-of the principal inhabitants of the city, after receiving a stunning blow on the head, were thrown down on the ice within, and their bodies immediately covered with quick-lime.

Such was the vengeance of the people on those who, without trial, from the notoriety of the fact, were convicted of the crime of aristocracy. The revolution had been quietly accomplished; the people declared that it was their will to unite themselves to France; sent a deputation to the national assembly; and cried "Vive le Roi." The vice-legate, who governed the city for the pope, addressed the people from his balcony; told them he had no force to oppose this their movement, that they had his prayers for their happiness, and that he would retire. This was all on his part. The national assem bly accorded to the Avignonais their wish; and formed of this papal territory and that of Orange, (formerly a patrimony of the princes of that house,) the de partment of Vaucluse.

The summit of the rock commands a very beautiful view. The eye traverses a fertile plain, bounded by the hills of the Venaissin, among which are distinguished those of the vallis clausa, where the farfamed fountain has its source; between the trees are caught glimpses of the Durance, which throws itself into the Rhone two miles below; almost under your feet, are seen the windings of the Rhone with its islands; on the opposite bank rises the château and little town of Villeneuve, surmounted by hills covered with the vine and the olive; immediately beneath, to the south and west, lies Avignon, with its population of five and twenty thousand souls, which number still remained to it after massacres, confisca tions, and proscriptions. By these revolutionary measures, it had suffered more

Convention.

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perhaps than any other city in France except Lyons, the "ville affranchie" of the "How would you have us be gay ?" said a nobleman to me; 66 we see every day, we live in the midst of the assassins of our relations, and the possessors of our property.' Virgil describes his Jove as viewing, from Olympus height, the earth," hominumque labores;" the rock of Avignon is but one of many elevated spots from which we look down on the bounty of Providence and on the misery of man.-Ibid.

Anecdotes and Recollections.

Notings, selections,
Anecdote and joke:
Our recollections;

With gravities for graver folk,

MAXIMS TO LIVE BY.

WHAT is fame? The advantage of being known by people, of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.

Ten friends are dearly purchased, if acquired at the expense of a single enemy; for the latter will take ten times the pains to injure you, that the former will take to do you service. Probatum est.-Literary Magnet.

THE IMPUDENT BRIDE.

Not long since, in Liverpool, as a couple were going to be married, and had proceeded as far as the church-yard gate, the gentleman stopped his fair comrade with the following unexpected address:

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'Mary, during our courtship, I have told you most of my mind, but not all my mind. When we are married I shall insist on three things." "What are they?" asked the astonished lady." In the first place," says he, "I shall lie alone; secondly, I shall eat alone; and, lastly, I shall find fault when there is no occasion. Can you submit to these conditions ?”_

66

you

O, yes, Sir, very easily," she replied; "for if you lie alone, I shall not; if eat alone, I shall eat first; and as to your finding fault without occasion, that, I think, may be prevented, for I will take care that you shall never want occasion." -Anecdotes of Impudence.

THE VERY ESSENCE OF ETIQUETTE.

WHEN the Emperor Charles made his entry into Douai in great state, under festoons of flowers and triumphant arches, the magistrates, to do honour to the occasion, put a clean shirt upon the body, of a malefactor, that was hanging in chains at the city gate.-Monthly Maga

zine.

REGENT'S PARK.

ALL suburban improvements sink into insignificance when compared with what has been projected and attained within the last seven years in Regent's Park. This new city of palaces has appeared to have started into existence like the event of a fairy tale. Every week shewed traces of an Aladdin hand in its progress, till, to our astonishment, we ride through streets, squares, crescents, and terraces, where we the other day saw nothing but pasture land and Lord's Cricket Ground; barn replaced by a palace-and buildings are constructed, one or two of which may vie with the proudest efforts of Greece and Rome.-Monthly Magazine.

EPIGRAM.

Sulphura cum tedis.-Juv.

A MATCH indeed in more than sound,
When Dick and Kate were wed;

To make this match she brimstone found, :
The wood was from Dick's head.
The Inspector.

THE OCEAN.

WHO that beheld thee, Ocean,,when the sun
Gazed on itself in what it shone upon;
And, smiling, met thy smile, as if it stood
Wondering at thy magnificence-thy flood
Spread like a mirror o'er the world; thy voice
In soft and soothing murmurs, bidding rejoice
The ear that listened, as its music stole
Upon the sense, and died upon the soul;-
Who that had known thee at the evening hour

Musing alone, on some sequestered shore,
On which thy little waves, in silvery light,
So stilly fell-as if engaged by Night

a

To lull thee to repose ;-who that had seen
The moonbeam sleeping on thy breast, serene,
Not e'en a zephyr breathing on the scene;
Oh! who could think, that thus had viewed thy
calm,

What thou couldst be-when rising to the storm,
Foaming in ire-and threatening earth, and

heaven

Tny features torn - thy strength to frenzy driven

Thy voice in thunder speaking-sea and sky
Flaming in blasting light-quenched suddenly
In ebon clouds-tumult, and roar, and gloom-
As if creation's destined hour were come;
And Chaos rushed, exulting to have won
His ancient realm; and, triumphing, strode on,
To mar the work Omnipotence had done!
Oh! I have seen thee thus, thou dreadful one!
And tremble as I think; and gasp for breath,
As if, again, I shared the scene of death,
And felt the soul depart; and woke-oh! spare
The thrilling tale! for madness mingles there!
The Exile.

"THERE'S NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTES."

AT Palermo, some of the soldiers caught a cat belonging to the convent, and having skinned the carcass, it was cut into pieces and soaked twenty-four hours in

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