into the room, wagging his tail with a great pear in his mouth, jumped up on the bed, and laid it in the little boy's

hand.

And is not Frisk a fine grateful fellow! And does he not well deserve a share of Harry's breakfast, whether he begs for it or not?

TO THE EVENING STAR.

BY MISS M. LEATHES BEEVOR.

Islet of yon aërial lake!

Thy dewy lustre, dawns to bless
Our eyes, when thou at eve dost wake
All beauty, and all tenderness!

Yet, sparkling pale, as if thou fear'd to throw
One pitying ray upon our gloom below!

And what art thou

(so silv'ry bright
Amid the depths of dark'ning grey ;)
A fairy world of love and light,

Of flow'ret, dance, and roundelay,-
Where music hath a voice that mortal ear
Might scarce in mortal life exist to hear?

Art thou an Eden,-in whose bowers
The sons of earth fade never more;
Which, sons of heav'n, (thy fruits and flowers
To beautify and bless) steal o'er?
While as the luscious air around thee sighs,
It spreads their holy words, and symphonies!

Do parents meet their lost in thee,

No more to languish, or to end?
And in each wrathful enemy

Of earth, do foemen hail a friend?

Is there no death,—no malice in thy bowers,
Whose light, whose life, are from the sun of ours?

Do lovers, breathe in thee a song

To dear ones, scorning not their lay?

Do those, whom death hath sever'd long,
Renew the plight of life's first day?

Are love's deep sighs, and tears, and sorrows o'er,
Oh! Star of Beauty, on thy tranquil shore?

Do minstrels in thee touch that lute
Whose living strings own Heav'n's fire;
Whose melodies may ne'er be mute,
Nor lays of ecstacy expire?

And doth not envy in thy saintly land
Stifle the harpings of each master-hand?

Art thou an EDEN? dwell the fair,

The lov'd, the blest, thy bowers within?
Or, art thou, Star of Eve, so rare,

So pure, a sphere of grief and sin?

Nay, thy sweet crystal light,-meek, pitying, pale,
Telleth to erring man a kindlier tale!
Great Marlow, Bucks.

СНІТ. СНАТ.

MUSICAL FESTIVAL.-Their Majesties will go in state to each of the four performances in Westminster Abbey. The directors will wear full court dresses, but the company will only be expected to wear the usual morning dresses.

THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO GERMANY.-Her Majesty intends visiting Germany, for which purpose His Majesty's yacht, the Royal George, Captain Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence, is ready to leave Portsmouth for Woolwich to receive her furniture. The Royal Yacht Fleet intend accompanying her Majesty to the place of Royal disembarkation; and the different yachts at Cowes are preparing for the service. Lord Yarborough's Falcon is ready, and Lord Belfast's Water Witch is off Brighton.

DEATH OF THE PRINCE OF THE BELGIANS.-The infant son of King Leopold died on 16th of May, at Brussels. The prince laid in state for a few days in the chapel of the palace, which was put in mourning, and lighted up for the occasion. His royal highness was interred in the church of St. Gudule.

TRAVELLING-SIX INSIDE.-There are few who have not experienced either the pleasure or the misery of travelling six inside, even to the extent of Robert Cruikshank's delineation.

In the dog-days, fat or lean,
With six inside have you been,
Windows up, and tightly cramm'd,
Between two flesh mountain's jamm'd;
Not a breath of air that's pure-
Sick and young, and rich and poor:
"Travellers strange things feel and see,"
But this the worst of misery.

FOLLY OF THE AGE.-Scarcely an individual can be quoted who has succeeded within the last thirty years to a considerable fortune or estate, but has already ruined himself by the purchase of expensive furniture, pictures, sculpture, plate and equipages, for the mere purposes of display; and not two out of twenty men occupying a distinguished place in society, but annually exceed their income in the

attempt to rival the pomps and vanities of richer men. On the continent, on the other hand, people pride themselves rather upon doing wonders with small means, than upon the extent of their fortunes.

HEILINGSTADT.-Near the cathedral in this town, is a curious building, of which the subjoined illustration is a correct view.

In the interior is a represention of the Crucifixion with the Maries, &c. as large as life. Heilingstadt, which literally means the Holy City, is in Prussia, on the road to Gottingen, in the Hanoverian dominions; the neighbourhood of which is highly picturesque and romantic.

PARISIAN CORRESPONDENCE.

Rue Saint Dominique, Faubourg St. Germain,

MY DEAR FRIEND,

May 20, 1834.

The good Parisians must have a mania of one kind or other, and whether the object is great or small, the furor is for the time the same. We are now racing mad; the disorder has been coming on for some time, but the introduction of the steeple chase has brought it at last to a climax. The whole swarin of the population of Paris, its faubourgs, and even its banlieus, turned out to witness the steeple chase of Verrièrs. I could listen with some patience to the eulogiums which the men lavish upon this mad and dangerous sport, but when a lady tells me, with rapture, that nothing speaks to the imagination like a a steeple chase; that it is unequalled in excitement both for the actors and spectators; confess that I lose my patience; and you will not wonder at it when I tell you that a more dangerous sport could not have been selected. A river to cross, high walls and deep ditches in abundance to leap over in short, a tract of country which, altogether, abounded in what an American amateur termed pretty considerable obstacles to surmount.

And pray," said I to my fair friend, " why cannot you be contented with a race in the Champ de Mars."

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'Heavens, what a question!" cried she, " why what is a race at the Champ de Mars but a mere shew: fine horses flying over a turf as smooth as your pretty hand. The jockeys firm in their saddles, without the smallest danger of falling. What, I ask you, is such a shew compared to a steeple chase? why such a race is to it what the military exercise, in the time of peace, is to the active operations of war. All the strength, courage, and sagacity of both rider and horse. are put into requisition to defy and overcome those dangers, which, if not surmounted, will cover them with the shame of defeat, and probably occasion also the loss of life."

"As far as the poor horses are concerned, it is a thousand pities," cried I, "but as to the two-legged animals, who are mad, I should rather say wicked, enough to risk their own