Shout, fairies, shout-see gushing out, One elf is chasing the wild bat's wing, There are three other verses all bearing the same resemblance to the American song, which may be remarked in these; nor is this all, 'The Mariner's Adieu,' which stands at the head of this volume, is far more like 'The Mariner's Song' of Allan Cunningham than a lover of originality would desire. THIS is one of those contributions to classical literature, which we despair of seeing emulated in this country, we mean, the publication, at the expense of the nation or some corporate body, of those ancient manuscripts preserved in our libraries, which, without possessing sufficient interest to ensure a remunerative sale, would be valuable, as books of reference, to those engaged in learned investigations. The greater part of the tracts that have been thus edited by Boissonade, are the productions of Byzantine writers, and tend to illustrate the most interesting portion of the history of the Lower Empire. The affected obscurity, the depraved taste, and, in some instances, the perfect barbarism of the writers, rendered the publication of these works hopeless, as a mere bookselling speculation; and without the aid of the government they could not have appeared. That aid, however, was cheerfully conceded; and though it cannot be denied that many of the tracts are of little or no value, it is but justice to add, that there are others whose merits will well repay the student's labour. The epistles of Theodulus, in the second volume, contain a most graphic account of the devastation of the Eastern Empire by the THE following is translated from a paper by small to hold in comfort an eighth part of them; The Album Mania. "The origin of Albums dates from a very remote period. They are of German origin. A man, on the eve of a long journey, sent a book to his friends to receive contributions in drawings, poetry, or music, to which family letters were often added. In a distant land he found this volume a delightful travelling companion. When his mind wanted the associations of friendship, or his heart yearned towards those on whom his best affections were centered, he of maternal counsel, the tender solicitude of a beloved sister, or the gentle endearings of the first woman he ever loved. "The Album was a book of the heart, in which were treasured all the most cherished affections. "By degrees the original idea and object were lost sight of, and Albums were filled with drawings made by mere acquaintances, with sketches often purchased at the picture-dealers' -or oftener still, obtained by importunity from the careless generosity of artists. "Next came the frightful race of amateur artists, who amuse themselves for a couple of hours with an object of art, as a child with a toy. These people are a thousand times more disgusting than amateur picture-dealers; they remain until their dinner hour. Noisy and come in the morning to your studio, where they idle, they talk of nothing but the price of horses and tilburies, or the fashionable beauties of the day-they overturn your easel-write their name upon your casts, and wear you out with their insignificance. Such, with very few exceptions, is the race of pretended amateurs. "Five or six years ago, when the profession of artist was one by which a man could live, these amateurs sprung up. Many of them took it into their heads to become dealers. Some made purchases, which they sold a few days after to their friends at three hundred per cent. profit, whilst others, less fortunate, lost large sums of money. "This species of jobbing was tolerated by artists, who learned from these pedlars of a new kind, the current value of their works. In a word, they encouraged the system, for they found it a source of great profit; it enabled them to build their cottages, purchase horses and dogs, dream of rich heiresses whom they never married, and paved the way for the future mortification of getting rid of their equipages and studs, and of being forced by their tailors to take the air only on Sundays. "Soon, however, the haunters of studios found that their day was passed; for the pretensions of artists became higher in proportion as their wants increased; but, as the album those who could not find places, took their station behind the artists. Then came a stout gentleman with broad shoulders, huge whiskers, and calves to his legs like those of the Farnese Hercules, who, advancing with a firm step and an air indicating that he was on excellent terms with himself, began a song, words and music composed by himself, and dedicated to his friend Mr. **, as little known as the author. Then, without solicitation, he murdered, for the thou sandth time, the cavatina of the poor Barbiere, amidst the giggling and trampling of the crowd, the obligato accompaniment of opening and shutting doors, and the announcement of little Madame D, with her ugly acid look, her wrapped up head, and her bare black shoulders, forcing her way through the crowd of ladies, to take the place reserved for her near the hostess, whilst her noble husband was discussing in the next room, with the voice of a Stentor, the debates in the Chamber of Deputies or the price of stocks. "Between the songs, the ladies hustle towards the table of the artists. Ah! that is the profile of M. de la Boissiere!' 'Oh! that is a tree!'- Mama,' says a little girl, 'that is M. Desfeuillis.' And then the common-places of, 'How fast you draw, Sir!' and ' 'Will you allow me to show you my daughter's drawings? she is only six years old, and is wonderfully clever.' Then the pale-faced, light-haired young gentleman observes to the pretty girl hanging on his arm, that 'Drawing is an agreeable pastime.' And that stock-broker, with one thumb in the sleeve-hole of his white waistcoat, whilst the fingers of the other hand are playing with an enormous bunch of watch seals, protests in mere idleness that he would sacrifice a finger of his useless hands to be able to draw like those gentlemen; though the other day at Tortoni's, when speaking of the works of Charlet and Bellangé, he asked who would be fool enough to purchase such trash. "After all these opinions upon art, so freely given, come the requests of the visitors. How many poor artists have I seen shudder and compress their lips convulsively, at perceiv ing a young lady carefully fold their beautiful drawing into the form of a letter, and put it into her reticule; and yet he ought to have considered himself fortunate if it were not dropped in the ante-chamber to become the plaything for children or servants. "Invitations were also given for the country. The artist, delighted at the jaunt, took his place in some diligence passing within three or four miles of the country-house. He arrived perhaps at three o'clock in the morning, with his port manteau under his arm, and waited in an ante-room until his noble hosts had risen. He remained three or four months, made sketches of the whole neighbourhood, and returned to town with an empty portfolio, after leaving the whole contents of his purse with the servants. Catalans and Turks in the fourteenth century. As specimens of the learning of that age, we have two declamatory exercises from the same writer, on that hackneyed topic, the contest of Euphorion and Polemarchus. They are such speeches as might be written by a ready school-boy, who had a greater command of words than ideas; and we cannot discover in them that acuteness of which the learned editor speaks; but the style, language, and structure, possess a higher degree of purity than we should have expected in the last ages of the Byzantine dynasty. The third volume contains a satirical description of a visit to hell, in which an opportunity is taken to lash, very severely, some of the principal characters in the court of Manuel Palæologus; and the fourth volume contains the life of Barlaam, whose strange career as a sectary and a legate is well known to every reader of Gibbon. The theological tracts interspersed through these volumes shed more light on the history of the Greek church, in the middle ages, and its peculiar superstitions, than has hitherto been conceded to the Western Christians; but the perusal of them is painful; for it is ever a sad contemplation to see perverted ingenuity and Nothing was more ridiculous than these asmistaken piety engaged in the support of semblies-the miserable rivalry, the impromptus Albums assemble from five till seven in the fever still raged, a new plan was hit upon, that ing-room, the salle à manger was transformed "Whilst the coffee was served in the draw indian ink, and boxes of water-colours. 46 The fashion of Albums passed-amateurs began to make drawings, superior, in their estimation, to those of artists; and the works of the latter were no longer purchased. "One man alone derived benefit from the revolution in the fine arts, consequent upon our political convulsions; that is M. Rouget, pro prietor of the restaurant in the Rue de Valois. At his house, all the celebrated of the age of evening, where they forget their dreams of fame and fortune, their invitations to dinner, and the patronage of lovers of Albums." The Heliotrope; or, Pilgrim in pursuit of Health. Canto First. London: Whiting. THE Pilgrim who goes abroad in quest of health, and so far forgets the advice of friends and physicians as to commence poet, has little chance of returning home a sounder or a wiser man than he went away. The feverish intercourse which he maintains with the muse is prejudicial to a return of health; the labour, too, of doing all the hills, and cities, and rivers, and matrons, and madonnas into rhyme, cannot fail to be hurtful; and unless the publication of his verses evokes the evil spirit of poesie out of him, he is lost to his friends and to the world for ever. We are afraid, however, that in the present instance we have been throwing away our sympathy; really our sick pilgrim sings a healthy and vigorous strain; we now and then, indeed, see symptoms of weakness, and hear a low and a feeble voice, but, on the whole, he acquits himself like one who has health to throw away rather than to seek. We cannot, however, spare room for an account of his wanderings from sea to shore; and it is the less to be regretted, since it has been his pleasure to make a descent upon Italy, and " our picked man of countries" sings through the entire canto, of the Alps and Apennine, The Pyrenean and the river Po. There is enough talent in the following song to justify us for extracting it; and with it we bid farewell to the first canto of The Heliotrope.' The mid-watch is set; O'er the dark heaving billow Give warmth to thy zeal, In thy joyance or cumber, He pilots thy skiff, Though its master may slumber! When like weeds o'er the waters Storm-drifted we reel, The dark cloud be scatters- Tho' the mast like an osier Who wakes for thy weal, LARDNER'S CABINET LIBRARY, Military Memoirs of Field Marsh al the Duke of Wellington. By Capt. Moyle Sherer. Vol. II. Ir is now eighteen months + since, in the language of the Captain, we "fretted handsome" under the first volume of his immortal work, and with no "loud weakness of voice" exposed its manifold and disgraceful blunders. The second was, at that time,, announced to appear on the 1st of April! and we persuade † January 1831. ourselves, that the long interval has been passed in revising and correcting. There is a modesty in this that quite disarms us, although, under circumstances, it might have been better to have left the work imperfect; for the Captain, in his extreme nervousness, has in the volume, which is a mere compilation not permitted one original opinion to remain and abridgment from Southey, Napier, and others. As to matters of "cakelology," they are not worth wasting a thought upon; but we could not help smiling at the caution of the editor of the Library, who, having come in for a little lashing for permitting such a skittish colt as the Captain to run in single harness, thinks it prudent now to announce, that "the work being of a professional nature, that interference which is generally understood to fall within the province of an editor, has not, in the present instance, been exercised by Dr. Lardner." Popular Zoology. London: J. Sharp. THIS is a pretty little volume, as all are that issue from the Chiswick press. But we have heretofore acknowledged our obligation to Mr. Whittingham, for "the Gardens and Menagerie of the Zoological Society," a work without a rival for beauty of typography and illustration; and we must still recommend all who desire to make a welcome and splendid present to a young relative or friend to purchase the latter-and it may be some temptation to them when they hear that the price has been reduced to twentyfour shillings for the two matchless volumes. The Van Diemen's Land Almanack for the Year 1832. Hobart Town, Edited and Printed by H. Melville-London: Smith, Elder & Co. WE spoke last year with the warmest commendation of the first volume of this useful, and, we may add, interesting work. Much of the information then collected, is embodied in the present volume, which has, however, many valuable additions. To all who have any thoughts of emigrating, or desire correct information respecting the colony, this little work will be invaluable. The Mercantile Navy Improved. With Explanatory Drawings. By James Ballinghall. London: Morrison. THE security which Mr. Ballinghall's plan of doubling ships' bottoms to a certain height upwards affords, is a recommendation which ought not to be overlooked by our merchants and ship owners. It is acknowledged by every seaman that there is not a more difficult point of his duty than that of keeping a ship clear of her anchor; and Mr. Ballinghall adduces an instance of a ship sinking in the river from that circumstance alone. Had she been fortified according to Mr. Ballinghall's method, it would not have happened. We do not know a system better calculated for the safety, cleanliness, and economy of the ship and her cargo, than that which Mr. Ballingall proposes. OUR LIBRARY TABLE. had chased, we imagined, all poetry away: the THE feverish look. of these vacillating times muses, like doves, Huttered by a fire in their residence, have returned, and, though their strains are neither lofty nor loud, they are, nevertheless, pleasing to the ear and welcome to the heart. 'Angel Visits, and other Poems,' by James Riddall Wood, were written, the author says, amid the pressure of business or the misery of a sick chamber; and we are sorry for it; because, we think, if the hand and mind of the author had been free and unfettered, he would have cheered us with a strain more vigorous and varied, though, perhaps, not more pure and pious than this. The poet recounts and illustrates the visits which the angels of God made in ancient times to the dwellings of men-commencing with Adam, and concluding with Abraham: he follows Scripture closely, adopting its language and expanding its truths. We cannot, however, many stanzas are pleasing to read and some in a conceal from ourselves that, notwithstanding spirit of nature which we like, the piety of the work is of a better order than its poetry. 'Poems, chiefly Religious,' by Jacques.-We feel, as well as the author seems to do, the right tendency of these rhymes, yet we wish that he had refrained from printing them any one who reads them will soon see that they want spirit and feeling. We wish men would refrain from doing religion into rhyme: piety is much better in the simplicity of prose than in the dullness of verse. 'The Mother's Present to her Daughter.'—This very little and very pretty volume was printed in Dublin, and contains many pages of prose and verse by the most popular of our authors: the same may be said of The Sacred Harp,' in which all the poets of any merit are laid under contribution. 'Clarenswold, or, Tales of the North.'-There are two stories in this neat and well-embellished volume: one is called 'Glenavin, a Tale of Destiny,' the other, The Pledge of Peace; a Tale of Love, War, and Tyranny-Treachery, and Usurpation.' There are, doubtless, many passages, both of force and feeling, in these tales, but the language in which they are related wants simplicity and ease. The sentiments are often just, and the situations now and then new. The author concludes by saying to his reader, "We meet again at Philippi." We hope we shall be living to see this mecting: we advise him, however, to walk less on tiptoe when he comes, and speak more like a man of this world. Authentic Information relative to New South Wales.'-Mr. Busby, the author, was formerly Collector of the Internal Revenue, and Member of the Land Board of New South Wales, and, consequently, what he says may be regarded as little less than official. We cannot spare space for details, but we have no hesitation in recommending the little book to all who desire to emigrate to that distant pastoral land. An Offering of Sympathy to Parents bereaved of their Children.'-This is a little volume, full of good feeling, and the intention is, no doubt, most excellent; but" the heart knoweth its own secrets," and refuses to be comforted in any is not the reading of a book full of learning and other way than according to its own nature. It eloquence that will soothe a stricken spirit-no, nor the counsel or sympathy of many friends: time and the fulfilment of our duties are, after all, perhaps, the surest way to resignation and! peace. We have seen few works of this domestic kind that were not too artificial and laboured for our taste. 'Byron's Narrative of the loss of the Wager:" Of all tales of shipwreck, hardship, and em durance, this is the most touching; some men will think its merit lies in having supplied Lord Byron with many hints for passages in his ' Don Juan,'-and no doubt it has done so; but with us, its attraction lies not only in the varied fortunes of the narrator, but in the simplicity of style and sincerity of manner in which the whole is related. We see no reason for printing it and binding it to match with Murray's Byron-it can stand very well by itself. 'The Tradesman's Guide. This is an useful' and convenient volume; it contains tables of superficial measurements calculated from one inch to two hundred inches in length, by one. inch to an hundred and eight inches in breadth, and saves a world of figures, and what is equally important-time. ORIGINAL PAPERS THE OUDALISK'S SONG. BY THE HON. MRS. NORTON. THEY said that I was fair and bright, Where the dark wild billows foamNor heard the sighs I heaved for thee, My own- -my childhood's home! They deck my arms with jewels rare That glitter in the sun, And braid with pearls my long black hair- I'd give them all for one bright hour I'd give them all, for one sweet flower They bring my low-toned harp, and bid For then, the long-lost visions rise I dare not hide my streaming eyes, I see the flowers I loved to tend, And breathe the mountain air. Here the hot heavy winds are still, WHEN THE WORLD WAS IN ITS YOUTIE WHEN the world was in its youth, Is the world a wiser world? Since those maids have flown? Than 'twas in its youth, Unto AN ADVENTURE. Mr. Leitch Ritchie, of London, DEAR SIR,-I duly acknowledge receipt of the half-crown, and of a copy of the Athenæum literary paper, which has been regularly sent me ever since. The title of this work is even as a sweet savour to the scholar, recalling the literary glories of the city of Cecrops, and associated with the names of the Cilician philosopher, and of him who is surnamed Naucratila, the author of the learned treatise De Deipnosophistis. Nevertheless, I am concerned to find that the editor is altogether neglectful of the ideas which no doubt suggest themselves every time he casts his eye upon the paper; and it is for the purpose of putting him in mind of his duty, and of showing him how to combine recreation with instruction, that I send, for the amusement of the readers of the Athenæum, the inclosed Dissertation on the Greek Particles. It will not fill more than half a number, or at most two thirds, and I demand for it ten shillings and sixpence; but, lest the conductors of a fourpenny paper should be startled by such a price, I inclose a brief narrative as before, † which I hope you will think worth half-a-crown of the money. As for your charge of pedantry, it is as unfounded as the expression used by Scaliger to denote a perlant-grammaticaster-is low and base Latin. However, I ought rather to pity your ignorance than upbraid your presumption, convinced as I am that the editor of a paper with so Attic a name as the Atheneum, will perceive at a glance that I am more grammaticus than grammatista. The Answer. P. P. DEAR SIR,-I regret to have to communicate to you an afflicting calamity, which has befallen your Dissertation on the Greek Particles. One evening, while enjoying its perusal, I was seized with an unaccountable drowsiness, and before I had reached the third page fell fast asleep. I dreamed that I was under the hands and birch of a remorseless pedagogue, and writhed and started so emphatically, that the candle was overturned and set fire to the precious manuscript, which burned, like the diamond, without leaving a residue, so that there is now not one particle extant of your Greek Particles! This, however, was no fault of yours, and I send you the money demanded; but as the sum is a serious loss to a poor devil of an. author like myself, I hope you will speedily fall in with a third adventure, and make some allowance in your charge. L. R. it happened, from one cause and another, that I was left alone in the desolate tenement. No one came to ask me for my weekly sixpence-and of a truth, the charge would now have hardly been warranted by the accommodation; for the roof had in some places given way, and exposed me to "skyey influences," more applicable to the concerns of poetry than of human comfort. I had some thoughts at length of quitting the house; but the temptation of lodging rent-free confined me to my roost. THE ADVENTURE. WHEN the flames of the burning of Bristol were extinguished, the turmoil of the city gradually subsided, and silence reigned, co-heir with desolation. The house, more especially, at the top whereof was my abode, resembled aruin. The window glass had been shivered by the heat; and from the blackened walls, cracked. and rent here and there, the inhabitants fled in disgust. Many of them besides-of those who had got clear off with their goods-owed arrears of rent; and this providential calamity, as they presumed, cancelled their debt to Cæsar. Thus + See "Sally in our Alley," No. 220. One evening, while sitting musingly listening to the distant noises of the street, I heard suddenly the unaccustomed sound of a heavy footstep on the stair. Upward it came-tramptramp-tramp,-its echoes rumbling through the deserted mansion, till at last it stopped on my own landing-place. First it passed into one room, then into another, the doors opening and shutting with a sound that made my heart quake -for this late visitor, whose approach was like the approach of one having authority, I thought must surely be the landlord! Finally the heavy footstep paused at the threshold of my apartment, and the door flying open, a tall man muffled in a cloak, and his hat slouched over his brow, stood before me. "You are Peregrine Peters?" demanded he. "My name is Peregrinus Peters." "Why not Petrus also? Because you disclaim the qualities of a rock?" "Except its poverty and barrenness." "Well," said he, with a hard and bitter smile, "You are poor at any rate; and I think you simple, if not honest. Can you keep a secret?" "If it burthen not my conscience," replied I, "I will keep it; but, if it touches the shedding of blood-" "Why the shedding of blood?" I could not answer the question. I had been looking in the stranger's face, and the idea presented itself. "What I require of you," said he, after a pause, "is a simple affair. You are to receive this into your custody;" putting into my hands a small box, of fine wood inlaid with silver, and resembling a case of mathematical instruments, only somewhat larger-" which you will deliver, unopened, into the hands of one who will come here to demand it of you. The person I allude to will ask no questions, and you are to promise solemnly to me, that you will not answer the questions of any other." 66 Why do you ask this of me?" demanded I in surprise. "What connexion or acquaintance is there between us, that you should choose a poor grammarian for your agent?" Allow "A public writer," replied he, with the same peculiar smile I had noticed before, "should not wonder at his being known to all the world. At any rate, you are only a stranger among strangers, and it is no more surprising that I should choose you than another. You are poor, secluded from the prying world, and, perhaps, honest. This is sufficient for my purpose. this box to remain with you; keep the terms I have appointed; and when you deliver it up you shall receive a reward, in coined money, that shall content you." The stranger had no sooner thrown down the small box than he turned upon his heel and suddenly left the apartment; and in another minute, the echoes of his footsteps died away in the distance. The whole affair did not take more time than I have spent in telling; and I declare to you, that after the stranger had disappeared, thought, for more than one minute, it was nothing better than a trick of the imagination. The box, however, remained, and this was tangible enough. It was about half a foot in length, and of an oblong figure, but scarcely so heavy as a case of instruments of the size. It was, notwithstanding, handsome enough outside, with its silver mountings; and after I had grown weary of turning it over and over, and tormented myself so long as was possible with conjectures, as to the nature of its contents, I set it upon the mantel-piece for an ornament, and went to bed. The next morning, before I was well up, the landlord, and a troop of surveyors and masons, were in the room to examine into the state of the premises, with a view to repair the house. Their attention was speedily attracted by the box; which was, indeed, a comely object, and the more remarkable, that with the exception of my truckle, or trundle bed, there was only a Ideal table in the apartment, and a chair of mahogany, that looked, however, as well as ebony. Presently they began to whisper, one with another, and to look, with a strange sidelong look at me. I was, indeed, troubled at the expression of their eyes, and rejoiced when they at last departed. An hour had scarcely elapsed when my attention was caught by a small quick foot upon the stair, and presently a little boy broke hastily into the room. "Master," said he, (for he was an ancient pupil of mine,) "if you have stolen the box, run for your life!" I was thunderstruck with surprise at the lad's audacity. "Come," continued he, "you have no time to stand staring; for the case, they say at the police, is clear against you. You were seen prowling up and down on the night of the fire, and lo! there is suddenly found in your room a silver box filled with bank notes to the lip!" It was clear enough, indeed, if the box contained money-which was not impossible from the unlucky stranger's harping so much about my honesty, I should certainly suffer death; and if, on the other hand, its contents were documents of importance, was it not my duty, as well as my interest, to make every effort to fulfil the tacit engagement into which I had been driven? "Boy!" said I suddenly, 'I am an innocent grammarian, but I must yield to fate." "To fate? What is fate?-a halter?" "Fatum est quod dii fantur-Adieu!" and hastily wrapping up my property in my pockethandkerchief, and concealing as well as I was able the ill-omened box in the breast of my coat, I rushed into the street. I My grand object was to get clear of the town, till the noise of the event should die away; and seeing a countryman, whose son I had taught the humanities, riding homewards in his cart, I persuaded him to let me mount beside him. I soon, however, repented me of this plan, for methought every eye was turned upon me. knew not whether my conscious imagination may not have played me a trick on the occasion; but, at any rate, my tall and spare figure, philosophic countenance, and raiment of decent black, that I had received as a gift from my grandmother on reaching man's estate, might well have attracted attention, perched upon the front of a turnip cart. As we got further and further from the town, the curiosity of the passers by seemed to increase. This awakened the attention of the countryman with whom I rode; and, perceiving that I was an unwelcome passenger, I got down, and crept away along the side of a hedge. Having walked till I was weary and faint, I stopped near a village, and went into the churchyard to rest. I had not been long seated when some boys, and afterwards some women, came to look at me. They were especially struck with the appearance of the box which lay beside me; and the feminines, after communing together in an indignant manner, threw such glances towards me as made my flesh creep. "I tell you, they are surgical instruments," I could hear them exclaim, as they walked tumultuously away. "It is plain enough what he is prowling here for, and why, of late, folk cannot rest in the village, even in their graves! Bide a bit!" added the termagant, shaking her clenched hand at me, as they left the consecrated ground. I did not abide; for I have observed that one might as well be suspected of robbing a woman of her living child, as of her dead; and in either case, there is no animal in the creation more fierce, bloody, and relentless. I made my way over the wall; and, wrapping up the box in my bundle, (which I regretted I had not done at first,) skirted round the village, and regained the road at some distance beyond it. I was at length faint with hunger, as well as weary and way-sore, and went into an alehouse to comfort the carnal man. There were a good many countrymen and pedestrian travellers in the room: but I was rejoiced to find from their conversation that the news from Bristol had not yet reached so far, and I pleased myself with the thought that I might quaff my ale in peace. I had no sooner laid down my bundle, however, than a mastiff-dog-may he die the death!-came smelling to it with more than human curiosity. In vain I removed it; in vain I drove him away; in vain I bribed him with bread, and even cheese-he only became more eager: and, at length, with a sudden spring, catching at the bundle with his teeth, he dragged it down, and the wretched box rolled upon the floor. At this sight, the monster sprung upon me, with a yell that might have alarmed the dead, and had not the company come to my rescue, he would certainly have torn me to pieces. Even when beaten away by his master, he crouched himself before me at some distance, in the attitude of springing, and, while his eyes were rivetted upon me, emitted, every now and then, a short smothered howl that made me tremble. All this, no doubt, seemed very surprising to the guests; and they began to converse apart: I thought it, therefore, better to depart; and, with a heavy heart, I buttoned my coat upon the accursed box, and, shouldering my bundle, trudged away. Before I had done communing with myself, on the strange fatality of which I appeared to be the sport, the shadows of the twilight came gloomily down upon the earth, and I was right glad to reach a village. As I was entering the inn, an old gentleman was just coming out. "Have you got the box?" said he, quickly laying his hand upon my shoulder. My heart leaped to my mouth; I grew sick, and felt as if about to fall. "That is not the porter, sir," remarked a servant in livery; "but the box is found, and Relieved, and yet already on the coach." ashamed, I went into the house. There were no dogs, heaven be praised! and the guests took but little notice of me. "I say, my friend," said the servant in livery, who had come in soon after me, "what was the matter with you when master asked after the box? Why you looked all sorts of sky blue !" "We have some guess of that!" remarked two men entering the room. I thought I should have swooned, and the words of the celebrated ballad came ding-dong in my ears And Eugene Aram walked between, With gyves upon his wrist! These men, however, were persons who had seen me at the last public-house, and had no authority to apprehend me. Nevertheless, they so grieved and alarmed me by their hints and half-charges, that I could stay no longer in their company, but retired to the room where I was to pass the night. Just then a thought of deliverance suddenly came into my head. I saw by the moonlight, that the yard behind the house, opened upon a wood, and I determined instantly to go there and bury this fatal box till it should be required of me by the appointed person. Gliding down stairs, I reached the wood unobserved. Here it occurred to me, that if one would bury, he must have wherewithal to dig; and, while pausing in perplexity, I lost the opportunity, for two persons came so suddenly from the interior of the wood, that I had scarcely time to conceal myself behind a tree before they were upon the very spot where I had stood. They were a young lady and a young gentleman; and, having so premised, I need hardly say that they were engaged in some love conspiracy. "I would implore you, dearest," said the young man, to fly with me for the second time, but alas! I am no longer so able as I have been to protect you." Why not?" demanded the girl, in alarm"I understood that you had completely recovered from your wounds." The lover, withdrawing his left arm from his cloak, held it up. It was without a hand! His mistress all but fainted. "On that dreadful evening," said he, "when we were pursued to Scotland by your father and your suitor Sir M, while waiting in a bedroom to arrange my dress, till the person who was to join our hands was found, I saw a man come in, and carry away my cloak. The thought passed through my mind that it was a servant who wanted to brush it; but, after a while, it struck me as being a little odd, that in so miserable a public-house they should think of doing so without orders; and presently the idea flashed across my brain like lightning, that the man resembled one of Sir M- -'s servants! I rushed to the door-and found that I was locked in. Knowing well the character of the resolute and quick-minded villain, a suspicion arose, which even now I cannot think of without horror. I threw myself repeatedly against the door, and at length succeeded in bursting it open. You were not in the room where I had left you. You had been torn from almost my very grasp-but when I was informed that your only companion in the carriage was your father, I blessed heaven for its mercy; I threw myself upon a horse, and swept after you like the wind. I overtook Sir M, who was riding alone side, he pulled in, and dismounted immediately. after the carriage; and when he saw me at his We both walked into a woodcutter's shed by the road-side. To settle for ever our dispute,' was my reply; What is your pleasure?' said he. and, pulling out my pistols, I gave him his choice. He took one on the instant, and, presenting it at my breast, pulled the trigger. It missed fire. I lost a moment in surprise and horror, and that moment was fatal. He caught up a hatchet from the ground. In one instant I was down, and in another my hand was severed, and I fainted." During this recital the young lady was dissolved in tears. "Did the suspicion you have hinted at," said she, after a while, "never recur to you? It was correct! In the dusk, I may almost say in the dark, bewildered in mind, ashamed, and terrified-wretch that I am!-I believed I saw you enter the room wrapped in your cloak; and, clinging to you for support, I hid my face on your shoulder. I became a wife-the wife of Sir M, and from that moment have never seen my husband!" The rage of the young man at this intelligence became so ungovernable, that his mistress drew him back into the wood to prevent his cries from being heard at the house. The last words I could hear her say were these "There is yet some hope-I have more to tell you-" when her voice was lost in the distance, and, leaving these unhappy lovers to their sorrow, I returned to my chamber. In the middle of that night, when I was dreaming that the accursed box, expanded to the size of a tombstone, was lying upon my breast-I was suddenly awakened by a glare of light falling upon my eyes. I thought I beheld an apparition, and my bones trembled, and the hair of my head stood up. "Old man," said the lady of the wood, "be not afraid. Give me the box! I have only this instant heard a report that it is in your possession." Recovering my presence of mind, I demurred to the demand, on the score of my uncertainty of her being the person appointed to receive it. "Here are my testimonials," said she, "read this note." It ran thus:-"You will find, at No. 13, Fag-end Lane, Bristol, in the possession of a schoolmaster, a simple fellow, who is too great a fool to be a rogue, a box, in or-moulu, the contents of which, as young ladies say, will enchant you. I send you the key of the box, and I give you the trouble to go so far to open it, that I may have time to get out of your way, by a vessel which sails in a day or two for the island of the Blest." I could no longer doubt, and drawing the fateful box from beneath my pillow, the young lady opened it with a trembling hand. A strongly perfumed note lay upon the top, which she cagerly read thus: "I am not so unconscionable as to play the dog in the manger. Being about to quit this country for ever, I cannot enjoy your fortune, which is tied up; and as for your person, I never cared about it. Lest, however, you should be scared from matrimony by a bugbear, (for, in reality, our marriage was never consummated,) and imagine that, being rather a whimsical person, I may return one day to claim your hand, I now put into your possession the evidence of a hand which will effectually exclude me from the pleasure of your society, at least in England. This I owe to the daughter of that man of whom I have made, for some years past, so egregious an ass. Present it, with my compliments, to your romantic lover, if he be still alive. "Your ex-husband, M." My curiosity was now excited to such a pitch, that, sitting up in the bed, I seized upon the other contents of the box, which were wrapped in coarse paper, and dragged them forth without ceremony. And what do you think they were? A human hand! a cold, dead, livid, gory, ghastly hand! I declare to you, I should have swooned with horror, had not the lady prevented me, by breaking into such screams of hysterical laughter as brought the whole house about us in their chemises. The situation was awkward. At my time of life one does not like to have young ladies caught in one's room-not to talk of the injury such a circumstance might do to a follower of the scholastic profession. Nevertheless, I was comforted by the sum of coined money I received in the morning; and all I can tell further on the subject of the lovers is contained in the following paragraph, extracted from a Bristol newspaper:-" The reports of a certain wealthy heiress having been married to Sir M are, it appears, incorrect. She eloped, yesterday, with an old sweetheart; and her father, it is said, tired of the whims of a marriageable daughter, has determined to receive the young couple into his good graces." THE SOUL'S TENURE. BY MARY HOWITT. There is a wondrous dwelling-house, A house of goodly workmanship, The cunning of the wisest head The structure of its curious walls Among the trees of Paradise, This pleasant house was set:- He gave him joy, he gave him peace, Dwelt like a happy child. And to this house he gave domains, O pleasant house, O goodly state, Beheld it, and were glad! Five thousand years and more since then Like all things has decayed? The house is old-five thousand years All chill and drear, and dark and cold- Time has made chinks within the walls, Five thousand years and more have passed They stalked about the lordly rooms, Held awful sovereignty. Range up and down at will, Unquiet musings come by night, And flit around his bed; And voices and mysterious calls Amid his revelries: And music cannot drown the voice, And to some mighty master-sin, The ill-kept house is given: For thirst and hunger, and strong pain, And Time, the mighty robber chief, A booty bears away: "Then goeth he and taketh to him seven other spirits, more wicked than himself; and they enter in and dwell there." He takes the gladness from thy soul, Some precious hope-some bosom friend, He ever steals away from thee, That leaves but wreck behind. He will not hear thee plead for grace→→ O then upon thy feeble house CHANGEABLE CHARLIE-A TALE OF THE BY THE AUTHOR OF THE DOMINIE'S LEGACY.' REALLY when I come to think on the various fortunes of my pupils after they went from under my charge, I am as much diverted and moved to laughter at the ways and proceedings that were followed out by some, as I am sobered into sorrow at the sad and pathetic fate that befell several others, If I could say conscientiously, that the wisest man always turned out to be the happiest or the most fortunate, greatly should I be gratified. But truly, it hath never consisted with the little philosophy that I have gathered in going about the world, to deal much in general rules or specific conclusions; and I have often from my observations been rather tempted to say with the proverb-making king, that folly was in some cases better than wisdom, and lightness of heart more to be envied than sobriety and sense. It was in the early part of my life, when I was yet in the apprenticeship of my fortune, that I had the teaching of a pleasant boy, whose name was Charlie Cheap. Charlie's father was a weel-speeked witless body, who kept a shop in the largest village near; and having made money by mere want of sense, and selling of the jigs and jags of a country town, was called by the name of John Cheap the Chapman, after the classical story of that personage with which we used to be diverted when we were children; so the old man seeing indications of genius in his son, sent the lad to me to finish his education. There was not a better-liked boy in the whole school than Charlie Cheap; for though he never would learn anything effectually, and was the head and ring-leader of every |