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crusade is even now commencing, which will put an end | White little lily! pray tell me when
Is it at dawn or at sunset hour, lore of worn-out brains, will be burned to the dust. A
That pleasantest fancies are o'er thee stealing ? na# epoch will commence. The Nile, having been tra
One would think thee a poet, to judge by thy looks, ead from its mountain spring to its ocean mouths, will be deserted; and fame will float down the more devious
Or at least a pale-faced Man of Feeling ;wanderings of the unknown and incomprehensible Ni
“ () no!" said the lily, and slightly blush'd,
My highest ambition's to be sweet smelling,
Of the fairest of beings, the fairy Ellen."
O! would that I were the moon myself,
Or a balmy zephyr fresh fragrance breathing;
Or a white-crown'd lily, my slight green stem The last week has produced no dramatic novelty of Slyly around that dear neck wreathing; importance; and the pieces which have been played have worlds would I give to bask in those eyes, for the most part been of very ephemeral interest. We regret therefore the less that it is not in our power to de. My heart, and my soul, and my body to boot,
Stars, if I had them, for one of those tresses,Fote any space to their consideration. A new Christmas pantomime is in preparation, which we are glad of, were
For merely the smallest of all her kisses ; it only for the sake of the good old times, when Christ
And if she would love me, O heaven and earth! mas was, in real earnest, a season of merry-making.
I would not be Jove, the cloud-compelling, Even yet it is the season when elderly people indulge in Though he offer'd me Juno and Venus both, a glass of wine additional, and talk over the days that In exchange for one smile of my fairy Ellen. are gone; and children eat plum-cake, and are happy. WEEKLY LIST OF PERFORMANCES. Dec. 14-20.
STANZAS CAT. Mason of Buda, Aloyse, f He Lies like Truth.
On reading “ The Last Man,” a Poem, by Thomas Mos. Jealous Wife, No! & Aloyse. Tres Mason of Buda, Aloyse, o For England Ho!
Campbell, Esq. in which are described the condition Wed. Do., Two Friends, $ Aloyse. TAUR. Green-eyed Monster, Aloyse. of Legend of Montrose.
and feelings of one who is supposed to survive the disFbid. Mason of Buda, Aloyse, & Thé Botlle Imp.
solution of the globe. By Dr Memes, Author of the “ Life of Canova," &c.
MY FAIRY ELLEN.
The last man !—the being who outlives
Each charm to life that value gives;
In darkness and in death expire;
In nature's solitude-sublime !
Exempt such pangs of misery;
Nor all existence wing its flight.
Few years absolve our rounds of fate;
Our hearts declare we are alone;
How lasting woe-how fleeting bliss !
But wrecks and ruins of happier days;
The last of a world—to us, no more.
By Henry G. Bell. BEAUTIFUL moon! wilt thou tell me where
Thou lovest most to be softly gleaming ? Is it on some rich bank of flowers,
Where 'neath each blossom a fay lies dreaming?
Where the fish in green and gold are sparkling ?
“ The best of my beams are for ever dwelling In the exquisite eyes so deeply blue,
And the eloquent glance of the fairy Ellen." Gentlest of zephyrs ! pray tell me how
Thou lovest to spend a serene May morning, When dew-drops are twinkling on every bough,
And violets wild each glade adorning ? Is it in kissing the glittering stream,
O'er its pebbly channel so gaily rippling? Is it in sipping the nectar that lies
In the bells of the flowers,- an innocent tippling ? “ O mo!” said the zephyr, and softly sigh’d,
His voice with a musical melody swelling, “ All the morning of May 'mong the ringlets I play,
That dance on the brow of the fairy Ellen."
Each kind bosom has its little sphere
Its hopesmits joys all centre here;
All that is dear-or fair-or true!
One name more dear-this world compose.
When o'er its world the tempests roll,
That elsewhere are serener skies?
Which is with home-felt grief opprest;
Nor can aught consolatory prove,
where his labours are conspicuous, in having, within a very few Unshared by objects of our love.
years, converted a park of no attractions, into one of the loveliest
spots in Scotland." Ah no !-vain is every other joy,
Cominents on Corpulence, Lineaments of Leanness, Mems, and If time our bosom's sphere destroy.
Maxims on Diet, and Dietetics, by Willian Wadd, Esq. have just
appeared. To our own sole world still feeling clings;
Battle of Navar in. We have seen the Panorama of the Battle All-all beyond are nameless things;
of Navarin with much pleasure. It is not very finely painted, ut
the effect produced is distinct and impressive. A mi itary band And when sorrow shrouds this in her pall,!. serves to strengthen the illusion of the scene; and the person who 'Tis as if fate had crush'd the ball.
describes the different ictures, takes care to inspire a proper degree of patriotis'n, by pronouncing the u-ual encomiums on British valour, and philippics against Turkish cruelty,
Theutrical Gossip - A new Drama in two ac's, by Mr Planche, entitled - Charles the Twelfth," has been produced, with much
success, at Drury Lane.- 4 Miss Nelson has appeared at forent SONNET
Garden as Peggy, in the " Country Girl:" some of the ondan
critics say she will supply Mrs Jordan's place and others say she To Thomas Campbell, Esq. on his first election to the wild do no such thing. Kean has played Virginiue with great suc
cess ;--Viss Jarman was the Virginia, and Ward the Appius. office of Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow. -Weekes has got a three years' engagement at Drury Lane. -A
very splendi 1 Melo. Drama has been got up at the Adelphi, called How strange, my friend, when life we backward trace !-- by Rodwell, who is also the coinponer of the music in The Ma
The , or of is Perch'd o'er thy boy-compeers I saw thee sit
son of Buda." which has lately been performed here.-The follow.
ing are the words of the song Away. lave, a way," which has In thy first honours, even tben, our Wit
been so popular in the new drama of Aloyse;" they are simple, And Poet styled, with tiny cherub-face
and in excellent keeping with the music, which, we understand, And eye, whence genius laugh d in pensive grace ;
is about to be published in London :Thence didst thou early soar the height which it
Away, Love, away! Prompted, while round thee Hope's young visions flit.
My heart, my heart's too gay Now, after many years, thy brilliant race
To yield, lo yield to thee!
I change as the vind, Of glory gains the seat of proudest name
Which thou canst not bind In thine own Glasgow,-lower yet than Fame
My heart-my will as free!
Away, Love, away, &c.
Thro' the fields I rove,
And the flowery grove,
No bird so gay as I; That lets me see thy triumphs, has my thanks.
Where violets spring May 15, 1827.
These words I sing,
Love, little rogue, you may ay !
Away, Love, away, &c.
LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.
TO OUR READERS.
It gives us no small pleasure to have it in our power to add the TAE second volume of Wodrow's History of the Sufferings of th" Church of Scotland, edited by Dr Burns, will speedily be
name of Allan Cunningham to the list of those eminent authors published,
whom we have already marshalled as contributors to the “ EdinBrown's Self-interpreting Bible is in the press, with the marginal burgh Literary Journal," and from all of whom communications references revised, and numerous additional ones introduced, with occasional notes, illustrative of Geography. Manners, Customs, &c.
will be found in our next, or Christmas Number. A concise Dictionary, and complete Index to the Bible, are subjoined. We are informed that this edition will be at once the most correct and beautiful which has yet issued from the press.
Captain Basil Hall's Travels in North America, in three vols. will appear soon.
TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS. There is preparing for publication, Aquat c Excursions through. out the Unite Kingdoms of Gre t Britain and Ireland, and va
The Letter by a “North-country Schoolmaster” we shall wil rious parts of the Continent, with maps and plans, in one volume lingly publish ; but not until we have the author's permission to duodecimo. A Highland gentleman is at present engaged in translating Mr
expunge one or two personalities into which he has allowed him
self to be betrayed, and which do not bear upon the matter in R Chambers' History of the Rebellion of 1745 into Gaelic, which question. We should also like to be favoured with his same.will shortly appear. -'We unde stand that a French translation of 10 our fair English correspondent, “ Caroline,” we have to rethe Life of Mary Queen of Scots, recently rublished in Constable's
turn our thanks for the interest she expresses in the success of our Miscellany, is also in preparation.
work. The alteration she proposes could not be made, without It is announced in the Literary Gazette, that Mrs Norton's Sor- losing the benefit of being able to send the " Journal" free by rock rows of Rosalie have rapidly run through a first edition; and the
-We are obliged to " W. R." for his politeness in sending us editor adds," Thus, in spite of the outery that poetry is a drug, “ Rierzi ;" but we had a copy previously in our possescios. The we now find that it is a drug which sells as well as any other kind tragedy is too old now to be reviewed, and we suspect we differ a of literature."
Jittle from our correspondent regarding its merits. His copy lies Mr Crofton Croker's Sayings and Doings at Killarney are on for him at our Publisher's." D. C.'s" Highland Legend is scare the eve of appearance. They are the record, we understand, of ly original or striking enough-The same remark applies to the the author's personal adventures at the lakes, and contain all the story of the Smuggler, by ** W. S."-"J. W. hardly coines up jokes, stories, songs, and sketches, which he uttered, collected, to our standard. sung, or designed, during his sojourn there. The work is to con- “ The Italian Peasant's Farewell to his Native Valley" is net tain, besides, a narrative of Sir Walter Scott's, Lockhart's, and
new to us; but the author is older now, and can wrie better Miss Edgeworth's visit to the lakes, to the latter of whom Mr Cro things.—" L. L.'s" German translation is well executed ; but the ker has dedicated the book. Moral and Sacred Poetry, selected from the works of the most common place a style. — The Verses f our Hamilton Correspond
original is on too common place a subject, which is treated in 100 admired authors, ancient and modern, is in the press.
ent possess merit; but not enough to entitle them to a place.The works of Dr Sannuel Parr, with Memoirs of his Life and
" The Bandit's Soliloquy" is in a similar predwainent. - We reWritings, and a selection from his Correspondence, have just ap- gret we can give “ Tom Bowiine," who seems an honest sellos, peared, edited by Dr John Johnstone. The work has reached the no better answer" Amena" and " C. N." will not suit us. formidable size of eight volumes. octavo.
We have to repcat e ur wish, that our Correspondents will, ss A second edition of the Planter's Guide, by Sir Henry Stewart, often s po-sible; furnish us with their names, and give us per. has just been published. A contemporary critic justly remarks, mission to make use of them, if we iusert their communications. that "no country gentleman, no landed proprietor, no ornamen lor of grounds, no man of taste in landscape, no one above the or
We believe soi e little inaccuracies have occurred in the delidinary rank of life which confines to towns and handicrafts can
very of the “ Edinburgh Literary Journal;" but there are to be add a more useful or ag eeable companion to his book-shelf than
atuibuted entirely to the confusion necessarily connected, to a this able treatise by the worthy Lairu and improver of Allanton,
certain degree, with the arrangements of a new work We trust our readers will have no cau-e of complaint in future ; and, on
any occasion, a note addressed to the Publishers will meet with • As Censor of the Greek class.
the most prompt attention.
be born a freeman ; the American only is bred a free man. The latter has this blessing in possession ; while the former cherishes a vague tradition of its achievement,
which is contradicted by the records of his country, and Letters from the West, containing Sketches of Scenery, the practice of his rulers." This is trash which, if it Manners, and Customs ; and Anecdotes connected with does not make a man laugh, is very apt to make him the first Settlements of the Western Seclions of the angry. We have no objections whatever to hear Ame. United States. By the Hon. Judge Hall. London : rica lauded as the very pet land of freedom ; but when Henry Colburn. 1828. 8vo, pp. 385.
a Yankee, not conten'ed with this assertion, starts up to
tell us that we ourselves are all bondmen, and that our We do not like the spirit in which this book is writ. constitution is a system of despotism from beginning to ten. An American has a right to be as patriotic as he end, we confess we should feel a pretty particular” pleases ; but he has no right to be arrogant or imperti- pleasure in knocking him down with a roll of Magna nent towards that country
from which he and his nation Charta. But it is not on the score of liberty alone, al. have originally sprung. It is true, that North America beit it is a theme on which, we doubt not, Judge Hall is now a great and an independent state ; and it is also could talk till " crack of doom,” that he thinks it pro
true, that it has not unfrequently been made to suffer un. per to attack us. Our national character he conceives der the taunts of narrow-minded and illiberal English- peculiarly obnoxious to the shafts of his wit ; and in men, who visited it with feelings of chagrin and disap- Letter V1., as well as frequently throughout the book, pointment, simply because they were no longer able to he thus writes concerning it :-" The fact is, that Engcall it their own. But this spirit is rapidly dying out, lish travellers, and English people in general, who come and ought never to have been encouraged. At the very among us, forget that the rest of the world are not as worst, however, it was more justifiable on the part of credulous and gullible as themselves, and are continually any of the inhabitants of the mother country, than of attempting to impose fictions upon us, which we refuse those of its quondam colony. They long stood in a re- to credit. They seem not to be aware that we are a read. lation to each other somewhat similar to that of parent ing people, and would convince us that they are a wise, and child ; and even yet, Great Britain is entitled to all valiant, and virtuous people, beloved and respected by the respect which maturity naturally obtains from youth, all the world; while we are an ignorant, idle set of booand to the superior weight which a long-established and bies, for whom nobody cares a farthing. John Bull for. admirably balanced constitution must give to her politi. gets that his own vanity is a source of merriment with cal principles and opinions, over those of a people still the rest of the world.” How very cutting this is ! and raw and inexperienced in the art of government. It is how admirably descriptive of the general dispositions of to Great Britain, indeed, that the United States owe Englishmen! How continually are they trying to im. every thing. They may, no doubt, by their own exer- pose upon the Americans ! and how supreme is the con. tions, ultimately crown themselves with glory; but, tempt with which that “reading people” listens to their though they are now no longer in leading.strings, it fabrications ! But Judge Hall having thus ably ex. would be worse than ingratitude, were they to turn with pounded the British national character, the reader may, the serpent's tooth upon the nurse of their infancy. perhaps, wish to receive, from the same high authority,
Now, Judge Hall's book is full of petry insinuations a trait or two of American character. In Letter XV. we and sarcasms against the British, which induce us to meet with these memorable words :-" There is no peo.
very favourably neither of Judge Hall's heart nor ple in the world whose national character is better de. head. His insinuations are, in most cases, untrue, and fined, or more strongly marked, than our own. If the in allunnecessary. We shall particularize one or two, European theory on this subject be correct,” (a theory
by way of specimen. In Letter I. we are informed, that of straw, which Judge Hall very valian combats,)“ is " The tumults of Europe have driven hither (to Ameri- it not a little strange, that our Yankee tars, whether on ca) crowds of unhappy beings, whose homes have been board a frigate or a privateer, should always happen to rendered odious or unsafe by the mal ambition of a few play the same game when they come athwart an Eng. aspiring sovereigns. Here is no Holy Alliance traffick | lishman? Is it not a little singular, that Brown in the ing in human blood, no sceptre to be obeyed, no mitre north, and Jackson in the south, who, I suspect, never to be worshipped.” This is vulgar cant ; as if the poor saw each other in their lives, should always happen to emigrants whom poverty drives across the Atlantic had handle Lord Wellington's veterans exactly after the same been frightened out of Europe by the Emperor of Rus- fashion ? Accidents will happen in the best of families ; sia or the Pope ; or as if the greater proportion of the but wben an accident occurs in the same family repeat
unhappy beings" did not know just as little about the edly, we are apt to suspect that it runs in the blood.” "aspiring sovereigns,” and the “mad ambition,” of This was, no doubt, considered a very pointed perorawhich Judge Hall complains, as the Red Indians do. tion ; but we should just like to whisper“ friendly in But our author proceeds,“ Here they learn the prac. the ear” of Judge Hall, that a peroration is always most tical value of that liberty which they only knew before effective when it is based on truth ; and that if he means in theory. They learn here, that the Englishman may to insinuate that an American frigate or privateer always
got the better of an Englishman, or that the soldiers even lieart enlivened by the beautiful symmetry of the Ohio. of the redoubted Jackson proved themselves in fair fight. Its current is always graceful, and its shores everywhere ing at all matches for Wellington's veterans, he unfor- romantic. Every thing here is on a large scale. The tunately lies—under a mistake. But even though he eye of the traveller is continually rcgaled with magnifihad spoken the truth, what good end would so invidious cent scenes. Here are no pigmy mounds dignified with a comparison have served ? Ought it not to be the great the name of mountains; no rivulets swelled into rivers. aim of all writers upon this subject, to conciliate, as Nature has worked with a rapid but nasierly hand; much as possible, two nations which are in many re- every touch is bold, and the whole is grand as well as spects so much alike, which possess the same language, beautiful; while room is left for art to embellish and the same religion, the same love of freedom, and which fertilize that which nature has created with a thousand ara sprung from the same common stock ?
capabilities. There is much sameness in the character The chief fault, therefore, of the “ Letters from the of the scenery ; but that sameness is in itself delightful, West,” is the exclusive and irritating spirit in which as it consists in the recurrence of noble traits, which are they are composed. But another objection is to be found too pleasing ever to be viewed wiih indifference ; like in the trilling and almost juvenile vein of writing, in the regular features which we sometimes find in the face which the author frequently indulges. The following of a beauti'ul woman, their charm consists in their own sentences will explain more cxactly what we mean :- intrinsic gracefulness, rather than in the variety of their “ We arrived at Cincinnatti in the morning; but when expressions. The Ohio has not the sprightly, fanciful I inform you that I remained only a few hours, and that wildness of the Niagara, the St Lawrence, or the Sus. the greater part of this time was spent with a friend, and quehanna, whose impetuous torrents, rushing over beds that friend a lovely female, a companion of my dancing of rocks, or dashing against the jutting cliffs, arrest the days, (the Italics are Judge Hall's,) you will not be ear by their murmurs, and delight the eye with their surprised if I add, that I have nothing to relate concern- eccentric wanderings. Neither is it like the Hudson, ing this town. Those days may be over with me in margined at one spot by the meadow and the village, which the violin could have lured me from the labour and overhung at another by threatening precipices and of study, and tlic song from the path of duty; but never, stupendous mountains. It has a wild, solenin, silent if I know myself, will that hour come when woman shall sweetness, peculiar to itself. The noble stream, clcar, cease to be the tutelary cleiiy of my afiections—the house. smooth, and unruffled, sweeps onward with regular ma. hold goddess of my bosom! Think me an enthusiast, jestic force. Continually changing its course, as it rolls or a great dunce, if you please; but never, I pray, if from vale to vale, it always winds with dignity, and, you love me, believe that I could think of statistics avoiding those acute angles which are observable in less with a fair lady at my side, or that I could hoard up powerful streams, sweeps round in graceful bends, as it materials for a Letter from the West, while a chance disdaining the opposition to which Nature forces it to presented itself to talk over my old courtships, and submit. On each side rise the romantic hills, piled on dance once more my old cotillons.” Now, we do not each other to a tremendous heigint; and between them object to Judge Hall, or any one else, “ talking over are deep, abrupt, silent glens, which, at a distance, seem old courtships,” and “ dancing old cotillons,” in time inaccessible to the human foot; while the whole is coand place convenient; but we do object to Judge Hall vered with timber of a gigantic size, and a luxuriant fo“ dancing old cotillons," when he ought to be giving us liage of the deepest hues. Throughout this scene there “ Sketches of Scenery, Manners, and Customs.” How- is a pleasing solitariness, that speaks peace to the mind, ever, the Judge is a gallant man, and his gallantry is ap- and invites the fancy to soar abroad among the tranquil parent frequently throughout the volume, where no gal. haunts of meditation. Sometimes the splashing of the lantry should be.” “ I have always had a wonderful pre oar is heard, and the boatman's song awakens the sur. dilection,” he gravely remarks in Letter X., “ for hand rounding echoes; but the most usual music is that of some faces; and I do verily believe, that if my breast the native songsters, whose melody steals pleasingly on were darkened by the heaviest sorrows, the rays of beau. the ear, with every modulation, at all hours, and in ty would still strike to its inmost recesses, and there every change of situation. The poet, in sketching these would still be a something there to refract the beams." solitudes, might, by throwing his scene a few years back, This is very poetical in Judge Hall, and is perhaps add the light canoe and war-song of the Indian ; but given to us as one of the “ Anecdotes," mentioned in the peaceful traveller rejoices in the absence of that the title-page, as “ connected with the first settlements which would bring danger, as well as variety, within his of the western sections of the United States."
reach.” P. 81-3. We must not, however, close our remarks, without admitting that, in several respects, this work possesses Judge Hall has a great horror of the Quarterly Reconsiderable merit. The first half of the volume is, on viewers; should they notice him at all, we suspect that the whole, too exclusively topographical, geographical, horror will not be diminished. and Kentuckyish, to afford much interest to a foreigner. But the later Leiters, in which more general subjects are discussed, though often sprinkled with paerilities Christmas ; a Poem. By Edward Moxon. London. and absurdities, contain many good things. We like best the Letters on the Names of Places in America, in
Hurst, Chance, and Co. 1829. which the subject is treated philosophically and histori. WITHOUT any reference to the book before us, it may cally,-on the Back-woodsmen, and the story of the justly be said, that Christmas is a poem. All its old Harpes, the murderers,—on the Missouri Trapper,- associations,-all its harmless revelries, -all its merry on Popular Superstitions, -and parts of the epistles on meetings,--all its blazing hearths, and looks and words Emigration, and National Character. As a favourable of domestic love, -are full of the very essence of poetry. specimen of the author's style, we select the following The season of the year, too, is full of poetry. The driz. short description of
zling, dull uncertainty of November, that glimmers beTHE SCENERY OF THE OHIO.
tween Autumn and Winter, has passed away, and hoary
Winter sits alone upon his throne, in uncompromising “ The heart must indeed be cold that would not glow sternness. True it is that, of late years, a most astonishamong scenes like these. Rightly did the French calling mildness seems to have crept into the winter months, this stream La Belle Rivièrc, (the beautiful river). The and that they who, in accordance with long usage, have sprightly Canadian, plying his oar in cadence with the continued to assume the cloak and great-coat, have been wild notes of the boat-song, could not fail to find his heard to complain of the heat of the temperature, even
in the onca nose-biting months of December and Janu- meet again under similar circumstances. Death will ary. Such a thing was unknowa to our ancestors. Long destroy, or space will separate, or the world will alienate. periods of hard, black frost, succeeded by still longer Let any one say to himself,—“ How did I spend my periods of snow, three feet deen, to them constituted win- | Christmas last year, or the year before, where, and ter. The north-wind came cuitingly in at every crevice, with whom ?” The answer will show him the change -the skies were blue and cold ; from the tops of the that has taken place. Let him look back through distant hills, down to the very shores of the ocean, all the vista of his life, and he will find that his ChristFas white; and the sea itself was the only unfrozen, and, mas has materially varied every revolving December. consequently, almost unnatural object in the view. It is Groups will start up before him-scenes and faces that strangely different now. The very climate seems to be know him no more. Yet, in those days that are gone, humouring the oblivion that has fallen upon old customs. the very possibility of future change came over his A snow-storm is a rare occurrence; a regular steady frost, soul like a dark cloud that seemed to shut out the sun changing the smooth surface of lake and pond into com- for ever. pact solidity, is a thing for schoolboys to dream of;--not « 'Tis strange—'tis passing strange—how soon their to know. All the leading members of the Skating Club will be dead and buried before an opportunity be again Tho' sparkle after sparkle dies on life's o'er-mantling
places are tillid up, afforded them of exhibiting their accomplishments.
cup!" Though the sun still“ peeps over the western hills,”
Time and change_how inseparably are they connect. “Like ony timorous carlie,”
ed! How do all the attachments of our early life-o'r he sæms determined to spoil sport, and, as a kind of dry first loves_our enthusiastic passions, die out! Calmer practical joke, sends a beam or two additional towards and more subdued feelings succeed, and continued disthe earth, just to make people wonder what can have bee appointment, going hand in hand with laborious experi
come of winter. The mail is never stopped now; villages ence, robs even these of their paler lustre, till life at are never in a state of snowy blockade; Cowper would length sinks into its long and dull December. While, die of perspiration, were he to wheel his sofa" so near then, the capability of enjoyment still exists, while the fire as he once did ; and Thomson would look in vain some honest and ennobling emotions linger in the bofor the advent of his old friend si to rule the varied year.” som, let them not sleep in apathy, but with a mirthful It is not to be denied that the world is getting warmer ;
seriousness talk over the past, lighten up the present, and we should not be surprised were it to become too and prepare for the future. warm for any of us ere long.
We have not yet said a word of Mr Moxon's poem, Yet Christmas is Christmas, in spite of the atmo- and we do not intend saying many. It is scarcely worsphere. Patriotism, religion, and brotherly love, alike thy of his subject. Mr Moxon is a tolerably pretty ballow its reminiscences. Modern fashion is striving hard rhymester, but no poet. He wants the vivida vis_the to bary them under her tinsel garments ; but let the good fire the feeling-the inspiration. His muse is a little and the talented of the land resist her encroachments.- ambling pony, and carries him safely enough through Well has it been said by Charles Lloyd,
his descriptions of Christmas and Christmas sports. But
were Mr Moxon to mount Pegasus, his feet would be “ My vexed spirit blamed
out of the stirrups in one minute, he would hold by the That austere race, who, mindless of the glee mane for the next, and before the third had expired, he Of good old festival, coldly forbade
would be sprawling on the high-road, and Pegasus Th'observance which of mortal life relieves
would be seen galloping up the mountains in his native The languid sameness, seeming, too, to bring
freedoin, snorting and neighing his contempt. Sanction with hoar antiquity, and years
Long past." Were it for nothing else but the sake of childhood, MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. Christmas should be a season dedicated to mirth. Time, with its ploughshare, may have gone over the heart of eld, and cut down its enjoyments like the flowers of the feld, nerer to spring again; but in the glad faces of
NOCTES BENGERIANE. Fouth there is reflected, as in a mirror, the far-back
By the Ettrick Shepherd. scenes of your own early life ; and if such recollections possess a tender and refining influence, streaming in like
(For the Edinburgh Literary Journal.) moonlight among the ruins of the present, why not se. MY DEAR MR JOURNALIST, cure them for the children of your affections ? The joy- A MERRY Christmas to you, and many happy reous and innocent time must soon be past,
turns of the season, not only to you, but to your new " When one day makes them blest for all the year;"
mistress, The Literary Journal, who really looks better
in her monthly lead-coloured gown and slippers, than I but seize it ere it pass, and give them one glorious day ever conceived she could have done when Aying about to travel with them through all the sorrows of after life, the house like the sibyl's leaves. You request me the —it may save them from crime,-it may redeem them news from Yarrow ; but deil a news there are that I can from despair,-it may colour their destiny.
think of. The salmon are swarming, and closetime very Nor would we be mistaken. We advocate no lawless ill kept by our feuars, &c. The hares have either vanish. and enetrating dissipation, which, under the pretence of ed from the face of the earth, or have got the way of social conviviality, iinpairs the health and weakens the ensconcing themselves under the heath and long gra-s so intellect. Such excesses are odious at all times, but completely that it is the same thing to us whether they more especially so during the solemnity that must al. are in the country or not. The geese are suffering,—the ways, mors or less, accompany a departing year. It sheep thriving,—the ground particularly green,-and has been finely remarked, that in the Scotch' national there is a close ryegrass braird an inch and a half long music, an undertone of sadness will be found to pervade on the crown of Henry Young's Siberian bonnet. all the gayest airs; and, in like manner, amidst all the But when I am wsiting to a friend, whatever is upfestivities of Christmas and the New Year, there ought permost with me must out, let it be as great nonsense as to be “ an undertone of sadness." It is no light con- it will. So yesterday, as I was coming home with a good sideration that friends meet now who meet in such long hare over my shoulder, I espied a wight going up circles perhaps only once a-year.
They will never all our haugh in the strangest fashion I ever saw. He had