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and a

the dread of water does, in some cases, oC.,

Driginal Poetry. cur, but not always, as some part of the cases on record do not take notice of that A SKETCH FROM NATURE. symptom; and I have seen cases, myself, There is a most romantic spot, where it did not make its appearance; in

Which, once beheld, is ne'er forgot ;

So lovely, that the place might seem deed, I hold any inan grossly ignorant of The fancy of a painter's dream: his profession, who boldly declares that a I saw it tirst, when beauteous Spring patient is free from the complaint, be

Clad Nature in her fairest dress,

And health and joy were on the wing, cause he does not happen to have that

Enhancing every loveliness. peculiar symptom upon him.

Through spreading trees I traced my way, Sometimes the disease commences like

Whose shadows on the pathway laya common sore, either daily encreasing, The sun's soft lustre gently played.

As through that avenue of shade, or else immediately healing: if in the But now emerging from the wood, first instance, the hydrophobic symptoms

I looked upon a lonely glen, which present themselves, are generally,

So silent, as I gazing stood,

It scarcely seemed the haunts of men. the bitten part becomes painful and un Save that the soft blue smoke that carled, easy; then appear wandering pains, un Rold this was not a painter's world; easiness heaviness, spasms, a love of But that in this lone spot of ground, solitude, frightful dreams, sometimes a

Some trace of life might still be found ;

The bill's steep bank was clothed with green, great degree of mental alienation ;

Which half concealed the pathway down, dread of water and other liquids, or Where glancing through the shade was seen, rather of swallowing them, will. also

A rushing stream come hurrying on:

Whose ripples, glancing in the ray, sometimes happen. In the second in. Betrayed-its current to the day: stance, the sore will kindly heal up, but Whose murmurs were the only sound, previous to the appearance of other That broke the stillness reigning round;

*And on the margin of that stream, symptoms, it will become hard and

One solitary.cottage stands ; elevated, and more or less of the ap-, From whose appearance, one may deem, pearances above described will come on It was not built by modern hands. in a little time; a great degree of fever to form the poet's lone retreat,

It seemed to be the spot most meet, prevails, the spasms increase, a severe While shrouded from the world's gay throng, delirium often ensues, and death closes He roamed these solitudes among the tragical scene. --

And gazing on this lovely dell, The best means we can employ is an

He here might frame some simple tale,

Of one who loved," but loved too well, immediate and complete excision of the And sorrowing died in this lone vale. wounded part, and we must recollect the setting sun's departing ray

And as I slowly turned away, that this ought to be immediately per. Gilded each lovely object there, formed; but should days and even weeks And made the scene seem doubly fair. have passed away, still there is hope of Lingering, I sought my homeward way, success from the knife. After the part

And wished mine were the painter's art,

To give the semblance of that rayhas been removed, the found should

But it was painted on my heart.

M. have water poured og it in a continual stream, and from a considerable height; OUR Dandies, who love their sweet persons to or the cavity should be filled with the Wear stocks now like soldiers, so stiff round liquor of ammonia, vinegar, or an alkali; the neck, by applying these powerful remedies, thé That on wanting to turn, any object to view. bleeding will soon cease ; but when it ap. The head cannot move, unless body move too, pears again; suction by capping glasses so pleased with one stock, should be bless'd must be had recourse to. Many other with a pair !

QUIZ, remedies exist, but as the performance of

-00 all belongs alone to a surgeon or physician, WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM, we do not feel ourselves called on to

YOU bid my wandering thoughts to stray mention them: we think what we have That sometbing I may find to say :

O'er those few years I've passed away, spoken is sufficient to interest every one, But oh! without a sigh of grief, and inoreover to convince them that what- 1 can't resolve to stain this leaf, ever may be thought proper for a patient to that short life we linger here;

Since it presents a semblance clear, to undergo, however terrible it may ap- For thro' the past I've streve in vain, pear, ought to be willingly submitted to; To find one page without a stain, there is nu disease which requires more

And looking forward, still I see immediate treatment, and the pre

From every taint the future free.

Yet one bright hope we still can find, sence of a medical man alone can ensure To shuu those errors left behind.even a faint chance of success. Of the

But why proceed, for at the last,

This future shall become the past; appearance of a rabid animal it will be

And each unsullied leaf receive, necessary next to speak; but I must defer Those stains corrupted natures give. that paper for the present. W. B.

Correpondents in our next LONDON :-WILLIAM CHARLTON WRIGHT, 65, Paternoster

Row, and may be had of all Booksellers and Newsmen.





1. The Flowers of Literature. 2. The Spirit of the magazines.

3. The dclonders of Nature and Art. 4. The family Physician and Domestic Guide. 5. The Mechanie's Dracle.



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studied our language with much care WASHINGTON IRVING.

and there is one very remarkable feature in his various writings, which is, that he

seldom or never alludes to what are The writings of Mr. Washington called Classical subjects, or introduces Irving have excited in England a very a quotation from the learned languages. pleasing and powerful sensation, and We wish (en passant) that some of our we believe they are equally admired own pedantic writers would follow his amongst his, countrymen on the other

example, and that they would, instead side of the Atlantic. His first appearance of culling out sentences and phrases « on the town," was under the assumed from Greek and Latin authors, to show name of Geoffrey Crayon, and his Sketch their learnius, bestew a little more pains Book, was admirably adapted to propi in the cultivation of their native tongue. tiate the good opinion of the reading The frequent use of learned quotations public. It gave evident proofs not only · on common-place subjects is a silly of his high talents as an author, but of affectation, from which we are happy to his good sense and amiable disposi. perceive the writer before us is almost tion as a man; and it furnished, besides, entirely free. His style is purely Engthe very best specimen of American

fish, and his illustrative passages are literature hitherto imported into Eng- taken, as they should be, from tbe lanland : indeed, for delicacy of taste, refined guage in which he writes. The Sketch feeling, pathos, and humour, there are

Book has been so widely read, so genefew of our native writers can cope with rally admired, and so often reviewed, Mr. Irving, and we scarcely know one that it would be a task of supererogation, whose works display an equal elegance at this time of day, to point out its of style and versatility of talent. The

various beauties. As ve purpose, howSketch Book, notwithstanding its random ever, to devote this entire Number to title, is a work of great care and accu Mr. Irving's writings, and as many of racy: įts style and diction are evidently his principal beauties are lo be found in formed on the models of the purest and the work which first introduced hiin to most polished of our standard writers; our notice, we shall take a general view and to say that the imitation has been

of all his writiugs, in order to afford to successfully performed, is no

our readers a just estimation of his praise.

Mr. Irving appears to have talents. With the Sketch Book, there.


No. 79,

-Price 2d.


Vol. III.

6 fore, we shall commence our labours, greatly to my stock of knowledge, by and conclude them with a review of his noting their habits and customs, and « Tales of a Traveller,” which have just conversing with their sages and great issued from the press. A few remarks men. I even journeyed one long sumon his general style may not be consi- mer's day to the summit of the most dered inappropriate. There runs through distant hill, from whence I'stretched my out his various works a tone of gentle. eye over many a mile of terra incognita, ness and good humour that admirably and was astonished to find how vast a harmonizes with his light and pensive globe I inhabited. feelings. His views are so enlightened “ This rambling propensity strengthand liberal, and his reflections so just ened with my years. Books of voyages and appropriate, that we are insensibly and travels became my passion, and in led to participate in all his thoughts devouring their contents, I neglected the and feelings: he is never out of temper, regular exercises of the school. How either with himself, or his readers; and wistfully would I wander about the pier the consequence is, that we turn from heads in fine weather, and watch the his writings with the best and kindest parting ships bound to distant climes; wishes for their author. If we discover with what longing eyes would I gaze in his works an occasional want of force after their lessening sails, and waft myand vigour of thought and execution,- self in imagination to the ends of the if we seldom meet with bold and original earth. incidents, these higher qualities of genius “ Farther reading and thinking, though are well supplied by a more than com- they brought this vague inclination into mon degree of humourous description, more reasonable bounds, only served to and of grace and tenderness in subjects make it more decided. I visited various of a soft and pensive nature. At times, parts of my own country; and had I perhaps, the music of his sentences is been merely influenced by a love of fine apparently more attended to than the scenery, I should have felt little desire subject on which he writes, and there to seek elsewhere its gratification; for certainly is an appearance of forced on no country have the charms of nature effect in some of his essays, and an been more prodigally lavished. Her endeavour at fine writing on sentimental mighty lakes, like oceans of liquid sil. subjects, which ceases to please in pro- ver; her mountains, with their bright portion as it departs from the natural. aërial tints; her valleys, leeming with His manner of conducting a story, how. wild fertility; her tremendous cataracts, ever, is peculiarly his own: it is at once thundering in their solitudes; her boundspirited and effective, and it is only when less plains, waving with spontaneous he writes, as he sometimes appears to do, verdure; ber broad deep rivers, rolling without any fixed design, that his labours ist solemn silence to the ocean; her to produce effect become apparent. trackless forests, where vegetation puts

Our first extract from the Sketch, forth all its magnificence; her skies, Book shall be the opening chapter, in kindling with the magic of summer which the author gives an account of clouds and glorious sunshine: no, never himself; and we select this paper not need an American look beyond his own only as it offers a very pleasing spec-' country for the sublime and beautiful of men of Mr. Irving's style, but because it natural scenery. affords some interesting information of “But Europe held forth all the charms his early history, and his first impres- of storied and poetical association. sions.

There were to be seen the masterpieces “ I was always fond of visiting new of art, the refinements of highly-cultiscenes, and observing strange characters vated society, the quaint peculiarities of and manners. Even when a mere child ancient and local custom. My native I began my travels, and made many country was full of youthful promise: tours of discovery into foreign parts and Europe was rich in the accumulated unknown regions of my native city, to treasures of age. Her very rồins told the frequent alarm of my parents, and the history of times gone by, and every the emolument of the town crier. As I mouldering stone was a chroņicle. 1 grew into boyhood, I extended the range longed to wander over the scenes of of my observations. My holiday after- renowned achievement -- to tread, as it uoons were spent in rambles about the were, in the footsteps of antiquity-to surrounding country. I made myself loiter about the ruined castle-to medifamiliar with all its places famous in tate on the falling tower—to escape, in history or fable. I knew every spot short, from the common-place realities where a murder or robbery 'had been of the present, and lose myself among cummitted, or a ghost seen. I visited the shadowy grandeurs of the past. the neighbouring villages, and added “ I had, besides all this, an earnest

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desire to see the great men of the earth. the author flies from gay to grave, with We have, it is true, our great men in astonishing facility. We regret that, in America : not a city but has an ample a limited paper like our's, our amount share of them. I have mingled among of extracts must be necessarily confined, them in my time, and been almost and that, even in those which we purwithered by the shade into' which they pose to lay before our readers, consi-, cast me; for there is nothing so baleful derable abridgment must be made, in to a small man as the shade of a great order to accommodate them to our space. one, particularly the great man of a The “ Broken Heart,” is an exceedingly city. But I was anxious to see the great affecting story. After a beautiful paralmen of Europe; for I had read in the lel between the relative situations in life, works of yarious philosophers, that all of man and woman, particularly as they the animals degenerated in America, and both stand affected by the passion of man among the number. A great man love, the story of the “ Broken Heart," of Europe, thought I, must therefore is thus simply, but eloquently told : be as superior to a great man of Ame Every one must recollect the tragical rica, as a peak of the Alps, to a highland story of young E the Irish patriot, of the Hudson ; and in this idea I was it was too touching to be soon forgotten. confirmed, by observing the comparative During the troubles in Ireland he was , importance and swelling magnitude of tried, condemned, and executed, on a many English travellers among us, who. charge of treason. His fate made a I was assured, were very little people in deep impression on public sympathy. their own country. I will visit this land He was so young-so intelligent-so of wonders, thought I, and see the brave-so every thing that we are apt. gigantic race from which I am degene- to like in a young man. His conduct rated.

under trial, too, was so lofty and intre“ It has been either my good or evil pid. The noble indignation with which lot to have my roving passion gratified. he repelled the charge of treason against I have wandered through different coun his country--the eloquent vindication of tries, and witnessed many of the shifting his name and his pathetic appeal to, scenes of life. I cannot say that I have posterity, in the hopeless hour of constudied them with the eye of a philo- demnation-all these entered deeply sopher, but rather with the sauntering into every generous bosom, and even his gaze with which the humble lovers of enemies lamented the stern policy that the picturesque stroll from the window dictated his execution. of one print shop to another ; caught « But there was one heart, whose sometimes by the delineations of beauty, anguish it would be impossible to desometimes by the distortions of carica-. scribe. In happier days and fairer for-, ture, and sometimes by the loveliness of tunes, he had won the affections of a landscape. As it is the fashion for modern beautiful and interesting girl, the daughtourists to travel pencil in hand, and ter of a late celebrated Irish barrister. She, bring home their portfolios filled with loved him with the disinterested fervour sketches, I am disposed to get up a few of a woman's first and early love. Wheri, for the entertainment of my friends. every worldly maxim arrayed itself When, however, I look over the hints, against him; when blasted in fortupe, and memorandums I have taken down and disgrace and danger darkened around for the purpose, my heart almost fails his name, she loved bim the more ar-. me at finding how my idle humour has dently for his very sufferings. If, then, led me aside from the great objects his fate could awaken the sympathy, studied by every regular traveller who even of his foes, what must have been, would make a book. I fear I shall give the agony of her, whose whole soul was equal disappointment with an unlucky occupied by his image! Let those tell landscape painter, who had travelled on who have had the portals of the tomb the continent, but following the bent of suddenly closed between them and the his vagrant inclination, had sketched in being they most loved on earth-wlio nooks, and corners, and bye places. His have sat at its threshold, as one shut sketch book was accordingly crowded out in a cold and lonely world, from with cottages, and landscapes, and ob. whence ail that was most lovely and scure ruins ; but he had neglected to loving had departed. paint St. Peter's, or the Coliseum; the « But then the horrors of such a cascade of Terni, or the bay of Naples; grave! so frightful, so dishonoured! and had not a single glacier or volcano in There was nothing for memory to dwell his whole collection.'

on, that could soothe the pang of sepaThis opening of the Sketch Book is ration none of those tender, though followed by thirty-one papers, in which melancholy circumstances that endear

the parting scene-tothing to melt sor- and thought that one so true to the dead, row into those blessed tears, seut, like could not but prove affectionate to the the dews of heaven, to revive the heart living. She declined his attentions, for in the parching hour of anguish. ber thoughts were irrevocably engrossed

“ To render her widowed situation by the memory of her former lover. He, more desolate, she had incurred her however, persisted in his suit. He solicited father's displeasure by her unfortunate not her tenderness, but her esteem. He attachment, and was an exile from the was assisted by her conviction of his paternal roof. But could the sympathy worth, and her sense of her own destiand kind offices of friends have reached tate nad dependent situation, for she was a spirit so shocked and driven in by existing on ihre kiuxlness of friends. In a horror, she ironld have experienced no word, he at length succeeded in gaining Want of consolation, for the Irish are a her hand, though with the solenn assupeople of quick and generons sensibi- ránce, that her heart was unalterably lities. The inost delicate and cherishing another's.” attentions were paid her by families of He took her with him to Sicily, hoping wealth and distinction. She was led that a change of scene might wear out into society, and they tried, by all kinds the remembrance of early woes. She of occupation and amusement, to dissi was an amiable and exemplary wife, and pate her grief, and wean her from the made an effort to be a happy one; but iragical stury of her toves. But it was nothing could cure the silent and devourall in vain. There are some strokes of ing melancholy that had entered into calamity that scathe and scoreh the soul her very sool. She wasted away in a --that penetrate to the vital. seat of slow, but hopeless decline, and at leogth happiness and blast it, never again to sünk into the grave, the vietim of a put forth bud or blossom. She never broken heart. ubjected to frequent the haunts of plea “ It was en her that Moore, the dissme, but she was as much alone there tinguished Irish poet, composed the as in the depthis of solitude. She walked forlowing lines : about in a sad reverie, apparently unconscioits of the world aronnd her. She “She is far from the land where her young hero carried with her an mward woe that


And lovers around her are sighing:. mucked at all the blamlishments of But coldly she turns from their gaze, and friendship, and « heeded not the song of

Por bier heart in his grave is lying, the charmer, charm he never so wisely." She singsthe wild songs of her dear native plains,

* The person who told me her story Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains. lrad seen her at a masquerade. There How the heart of the miustrel is breaking ! can be no exhibition of far-gone wretch

He had lived for bis love-for his country he

died, einess more striking and painful than to They were all that to life had entwined himmeet it in such a scene. To find it wan Norsoon sball the tears of his country be drieç, dering like a spectre, lonely and joyless, Nor long will bis love stay helsind him! where all around is gay.--to see it dressed Ol? make her a grave, where the sunbeams rest,

When they promise a glorious morrow; out in the trappings of mirth, and fook. They'll shine o'er her steep, like a smile from ing so wan and woe-begone, as if it had

tlie west, tried in vain to cheat the poor heart

From ber own loy'd island of sorrow." into a momentary forgetfulness of sorrow. The foregoing pathetic story, it may After strolling through the splendid be requisite to observe, is not from the rjoms and giddy crowd with an air of stores of Mr. Irving's faucy, the circumætter abstractivis, she sat herself down stances, as he himself preniscs, are well on the steps of an orchestra, and looking known in the country where they hapabout for some time with a vacant air, pened. Mr. Robert Emmet, a young that shewed her iirsensibility to the brish gentleman of high talents and argasist *cene, she began, with the capric dent feelings, was induced, unfortunately, civu stress of a sickly heart, to warble a to join the fiery spirits of his native counlittle plaintive air. She had an exquisite try, with a view to shake off the English voice ; but on this occasion it was 60 yuke. . The plot totally miscarried, and simple, so touching, it breathed forth the unfortunate young man was appresuch a soul of wretchedness, that she hended as a riagleader, and underwent drew a crowd mute and silent arvund the sentence of the law. He was tenderly her, and melted every one into tears. attached at the tinie to Miss Curran, the

*The story of one sutrue and tender, daughter of the celebrated Irish barrister could not but excite great interest in a of that name. Her melaneboly fate, Mr. country remarkable for enthusiasın. It Irving has feelingly described, and the completely won the ixart of a brave beautiful and pathetic verses, from the officer, who paid his addrezses to her, pen of traland's first poet and patriot,


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