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JFilliams, and they resided for some and the wreck of vessels : the spot time at Great Marlow, in Bucking- itself was well suited for the cerehamshire, much respected for their mony. The magnificent bay of charity. In the meantime, his ir- Spezia was on the right, and Legreligious opinions had attracted horn on the left, at equal distances public notice, and, in consequence of about two-and-twenty miles. The of his unsatisfactory notions of the headlands project boldly far into Deity, his children, probably at the the sea ; in front lie several islands, instance of his father, were taken and behind dark forests and the from him by a decree of the Lord cliffy Appenines. Nothing was Chancellor : an event which, with omitted that could exalt and dignify increasing pecuniary embarrass- the mournful rites with the associaments, induced him to quit England, tions of classic antiquity : frankinwith the intention of never return- cense and wine were not forgotten. ing.

The weather was serene and beauBeing in

Switzerland when tiful, and the pacified ocean was Lord Byron, after his domestic tri- silent, as the flame rose with extra'bulations, arrived at Geneva, they ordinary brightness. Lord Byron became acquainted. He then cross- was present ; but he should himed the Alps, and again at Venice self have described the scene, and renewed his friendship with his what he felt. Lordship ; he thence passed to These antique obsequies were Rome, where he resided some undoubtedly affecting ; but the retime ; and after visiting Naples, turn of the mourners from the burnfixed his permanent residence in ing is the most appalling orgia, Tuscany. His acquirements were without the horror of crinie, of constantly augmenting, and he was which I have ever heard. When without question an accomplished the duty was done, and the ashes person. He was, however, more collected, they dined and drank of a metaphysician than a poet, much together, and bursting from though there are splendid specimens the calm mastery with which they of poetical thought in his works. had repressed their feelings during

sa man, he was objected to only the solemnity, gave way to frantic on account of his speculative opin- exultation. They were all drunk ; ions ; for he possessed many amia- they sang, they shouted, and their ble qualities, was just in his inten- barouche was driven like a whirltions, and generous to excess. wind through the forest. I can

When he had seen Mr. Hunt conceive nothing descriptive of the established in the Casa Lanfranchi demoniac revelry of that flight, but with Lord Byron at Pisa, Mr. scraps of the dead man's own song Shelley returned to Leghorn, for the of Faust, Mephistophiles, and Ignis purpose of taking a sea excursion; Fatuus, in alternate chorus. an amusement to which he was much attached. During a violent storm “ The limits of the sphere of dream,

The bounds of true and false are past; the boat was swamped, and the party on board were all drowned. Lead us on thou wand'ring Gleam;

Lead us onward, far and fast, Their bodies were, however, after- To the wide, the desart waste. wards cast on shore ; Mr. Shelly's was found near Via Reggio, and, But see how swift, advance and shift,

Trees behind trees--row by row, being greatly decomposed, and un

Now clift by clift, rocks bend and lift, fit to be removed, it was determined

Their frowning foreheads as we go ; to reduce the remains to ashes, The giant-snouted crags, ho! ho ! that they might be carried to a place

How they snort, and how they blow. of sepulture. Accordingly preparations were made for the burning.

Honor her to whom honor is due, Wood in abundance was found An able sow with old Baubo upon her

Old mother Baubo, honor to you. on the shore, consisting of old trees Is worthy of glory and worthy of honor.

As

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The way is wide, the way is long,

Every trough will be boat enough, But what is that for a Bedlam throng? With a rag for a sail, we can sweep through Some on a ram, and some on a prong,

the sky, On poles and on broomsticks we Autter along. Who flies not to-night, when means he to fly?”

ON THE MUSIC OF NATURE.

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How a certain disposition of certain Even when Nature arrays herself sounds should, through the medium in all her terrors, when the thunder of the ear, raise, depress, or tran- roars above our heads, and man, as quillize the spirits, is a problem dif- he listens to the sound, shrinks at ficult to be solved; yet, in a greater the sense of his own insignificance or less degree, all are convinced of —even this, without at all derogatits truth ; and, to gratify this univer- ing from its awful character, may sal feeling, Nature seems to have be termed a grand chorus in the mingled harmony in all her works. music of Nature. Each crowded and tumultuous city Almost every scene in the creamay properly be called a temple to tion has its peculiar music, by which Discord; but wherever Nature its character, as cheering, melanholds undisputed dominion, music is choly, awful, or lulling, is marked the partner of her empire. The and defined. This appears in the " lonely voice of waters," the hum alternate succession of day and of bees, the chorus of birds ; nay, if night. When the splendor of day these be wanting, the very breeze has departed, how consonant with that rustles through the foliage is the sombre gloom of night is the music. From this music of Nature, hum of the beetle, or the lonely, solitude gains all her charms; for plaintive voice of the nightingale. dead silence, such as that which But more especially, as the diffeprecedes thunder-storms, rather ter- rent seasons revolve, a correspondrisies than delights the mind :- ing variation takes place in the muOn earth 'twas all yet calm around,

sic of Nature.

As winter apA pulseless silence, dread, profound-- proaches, the voice of birds, which Alore awíul than the tempest's sound !

cheered the days of summer, ceases; Perhaps it is the idea of mortality the breeze that was lately singing thereby awakened, that makes ab among the leaves, now shrilly hisses solute stillness so awful. We can- through the naked boughs ; and the not bear to think that even Nature rill, that but a short time ago murherself is inanition ; we love to feel mured softly, as it flowed along, her pulse throbbing beneath us, and

now, swelled by tributary waters, to listen to her accents amid the still retirements of her desarts. torrent.

gushes headlong in a deafening That solitude in truth, which is described by our poets, as expanding in the full spirit of prophetic song,

It is not, therefore, in vain that, the heart, and tranquillizing the Isaiah has called upon the mountains passions, though far removed from to break forth into singing; "the ibe inharmonious din of worldly forests, and every tree thereof.” business, is yet varied by such gen- Thus we may literally be said to tle sounds as are most likely to “find tongues in trees-books in make the heart beat in unison with the running brooks ; and, as we the serenity of all surrounding ob- look upward to the vault of Heaven, jects. Thus Gray

we are inclined to believe thatNow fades the glimmering landscape on my There's not the smallest orb which we behold, sight,

But in his motion like an angel sings, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim : Save where the beetle wheels his droning Such harmony is in immortal souls; flight,

But whilst this muddy vesture of decay And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds ! Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

GENIUS AND VIRTUE.

Various states of the soul are in which it belongs; and our forward themselves so excellent and so admiration awakes to excellence ready for the reception of Virtue— which is dimly apprehended, but not such, for example, as self-command, manifested to our eyes. patience, and steadfastness of pur- Is it not in this way, we ask, pose—that to the Imagination, which that we look upon the highest geconceives not merely what is, but nius, imaginative or meditative, as what is possible to be, which can kindred to the highest virtue ? hardly represent to itself the soul so When we think of Newton in the full of powers, without supposition, silence of midnight reading the raat the same time, of their noble ap- diant records of creative wisdom in plication, these very powers them- the sky, and with something of a selves receive a part of that esteem seraph's soul, enjoying a delight which is due to them only when known but to intellect alone, we they are applied in the service of cannot but transfer the admiring Virtue. Now, may we not, with- thoughts with which we have reout violence, extend the spirit of garded the contemplative philosothis remark to those intellectual pher, to what we feel to be the virpowers and dispositions which we tue and piety of the man. It is the are always accustomed to contem- will of God for which he is search-plate with a feeling resembling that ing among the stars of heaven. In of moral approbation? They be- the laws which guide those orbs long to the highest state of the soul ; along in their silent beauty, he feels to the exaltation of that spirit, of still the presence of the one Great which the highest exaltation is Vir- Spirit ; so that with the name of tue. How much of that nature, Newton are not only associated which is indeed moral, must be un- ideas of vastness and sublimity in folded in him, in whom either the our imagination, but thoughts of dicreative or meditative powers of the vine love and mercy in our hearts. mind have attained to great perfec- Thus everything low and earthly is tion! They are not, strictly speak- dissevered from that majestic name. ing, moral indeed ; for they may It rises before us pure and beautiexist apart from all morality. But ful as a planet ; and we may be althey have prepared so many facul- most said to feel our own immortaties of the whole being to be in har- lity in the magnificent power bemony with Virtue, that we can stowed by the Deity upon a child of scarcely regard them without some- dust. thing of the reverence which is jus- So, too, when we think on the tifiable only towards Virtue itself. highest triumphs of imaginative Ge

In respect, then, to these and nius, and see it soaring on its unother similar qualities, there is al- wearied wings through the stainless ways one feeling prevalent in the ether. The innocence of a yet unmind. We regard the soul in the fallen spirit, and the bliss of its yet excellence of all its highest powers, unfaded bowers, as breathed upon as that object to which our moral us in the song of Milton, seems to reverence and love are due. But consecrate to us that great Poet's none of its nobler powers can ap- heart; and we feel the kindred napear to us in great strength, with- ture of the intellectual and moral out giving intimation to our thoughts spirit of Genius and Virtue, when of something beyond what appears shown by his sacred power the to us.

That ennobled state of one image of a sinless world, or, mixed power appears connected with the with human, celestial shapes, ennobled state of the whole being to

“ Crowning the glorious hosts of Paradise,"

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TIIE LADY TO IIER LOVER.

On! thy vow of love was breathied to me

In yon myrtle bower, whose blossoms crown'd us,
While moonlight slept on the tranquil sea,

And the heavens and earth were still around us ;
Dark storms shall rise on the troubled main,
The bower shall droop, and the moon shall wanc,
But my faithful heart shall never slight
The sacred row of that moonlight night.
Thy vow was breathed in the summer time,

When the fields were rich in flowery treasures,
And the valleys smiled in their blushing prime,

And the birds pour'd forth their warbled measures ;
Cold winter soon shall its snows impart,
The flowers shall fade, and the birds depart,
But Love, in its own warm genial clime,
Shall nurse that yow of the summer time.
Thy vow was breathed in the morn of youth,

When thy step was gay in springing lightness,
And thy open brow spoke joy and iruth,

And thy dark eye laught in merry brightness;
Oh! thy brow the shades of care shall borrow,
And thine eye shall float in the tears of sorrow,
But my heart, with fond unchanging truth,
Shall dwell on the vow of thy early youth.
Thy vow was breathed in the glow of hope,

When thy ear drank in Fame's flattering story,
And the path of life seem'd a sunny slope,

And thy pulse tbrobb’d high with thoughts of glory ;
The dream of thy pride shall fade away,
And thy spirit mourn its dull decay,
But a love like mine with ills shall cope,
And shed new life on thy dying hope.
Yes, trust me, yes, when the spell is gone

Of the fairy scenes that now invite thee,
And thy young heart turns in bitter scorn

From the false, false world that dares to slight thee;
One radiant light shall desert thee never,
One hope shall cling to thy path forever,
And I feel that light, that hope, shall be
The vow thou hast breathed this night lo me.

THE LATEST FEMALE FASHIONS.

!
EXPLANATION OF THE PRINT OF THE FASHIONS.

MORNING VISITING DRESS. another flounce, and that headed A much dress composed of India also by embroidery, Pink crape muslin, corsage en chemisette, but hat elegantly trimmed with an interwith very little fulness, which is mixture of blond lace, flowers, and arranged in a broad band of rich rosettes of ribbon. Scarf of pink embroidery round the top; a simi- gauze terminated by neuds of ribbon lar embroidery marks the centre of to correspond. the bust before.' Sleeve à la Montespan, with an embroidered epau- EVENING DRESS.—Ą SLIGHT SKETCH lette ; the trimming of the skirt

OP QUEEN ADELAIDE. consists of a worked flounce, placed A satin dress, the color is Claclose to the border, above which is rence blue of the highest shade. The a rich embroidery surmounted by corsage is cut low and square, and made with a pointed white satin sto- hair is dressed in full curls on the macher richly ornamented with large forehead, and low at the sides of the pearls; a string of pearls encircles face ; it is turned up in one large the waist, and terminates by a tassel bow on the summit of the head, by which descends from the point. Short a jeweled comb; an ornament refull white satin sleeve, over which is sembling a tiara, composed of blond one in the form of a shell, composed net, intermixed with pearls, and surof three falls of white tulle, embroi- mounted by bows of gauze ribbon to dered in blue silk of a lighter shade correspond in color with the dress, than the dress. The skirt is made is placed immediately over the foreconsiderably shorter than the white head, and a tulle scarf embroidered satin slip worn under it, and is to correspond with the trimming, trimmed with a deep flounce of tulle thrown gracefully over the back of richly embroidered in blue silk. the head. Necklace and ear-rings Tulle apron, also embroidered. The of large pearls. Gold bracelets,

THE GATIIERER.

“ Little things have their value.” . Benerolent Yan.-- The grandfather of good things at first hand, which had told the present Earl of Balcarras was a bene- so well at second. He did so; but soon volent man, with more of what the French lost both humor and temper, at hearing the call bonhommie, than most men, as the fol- worthy cits, whenever he attempted to be lowing fact will show. His lordship was funny, respond with mingled wonder and a skilful agriculturist, and, among other delight, “ How like 'Tom Bennet!". fruits of his skill, he was particularly Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress:~Wen proud of a field of turnips, which were of Cowper coinposed his Satires, says Mr. unusual size. One day, bis lordship was Southey, he hid the name of Whitefield walking in this field, and admiring its pro- " beneath well-sounding Greek ;” and abduce, when he discovered, close to the stained from mentioning Bunyan, while hedge, a woman, who was a pensioner of he panegyrised hiin, “ lest so despised a the family, but who, forgetting her duly name should move a sneer.” In Punyan's and ber obligations, had stolen a large case this could hardly have been needful sackful of the precious turnips, and was forty years ago ; for, though a just appremaking the best of her way home, when ciation of our older and better writers was sie was thus caught in the manner, as the at that time for less general than it aplawyers would say. The worthy noble. pears to be at present, the author of the m:n very justly reproached the woman Pilgrim's Progress was even then in high with her dishonesty and ingratitude, re- repute. His fame may literally be said in ininded her that she would have received have risen; beginning among ile people, a sackful of turnips had she asked for it in it had made its way up to those who are a proper way, instead of stealing his favor- called the public. In most instances, the ites. The woman silently curtsied at eve- many receive gradually and slowly the ry sentence, and confessed her otlence, but opinions of the few respecting literary mepleaded her large family. The good man rit; and sometimes, in assent to such auwas at last mollified, and was leaving the thority, profess with their lips an admirafield, when the woman, who hud dropped tion of ibey know not what-they know ber prize on his lordship's first accosting not why. But here, the opinion of the her, and was now with diffienlty endeavor- multitude had been ratified by the judiing to lift it on her back again, called to cious. The people know what they adhin--"O, my lord, my lord, do gie me a mired. It is a book which makes its way haund ,and help the poke on my back, for through the fancy to the understanding it's unco heavy, and I canna get it up by and the heart; the child peruses it with mysell. Thus she bespoke the earl, who wonder and delight; in youth we discover aciually turned back, and did assist the the genius which it displays; its worth is woman to load herself with the stolen apprehended as we advance in years; and turnips!

we perceive its merits feelingly in declinImi'ation.-A silk-mercer bad associated ing age. with Shuter till he caught, not only all his An Outline. When the Duke de Choibest jokes and ditties, but the very manner seul, who was a remarkably meagre-lookin which they were given. The latter ing man, came to London 'to negociate a hearing this, determined to visit a club one peace, Charles Townshend being asked evening which this gentleman frequented, whether the French government had sent and see what would be the effect of his the preliminaries of a treaty, answered,

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