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"Further particulars.

"Nothing is known yet; papers have been received down to the 4th of November, but they are not up to any thing."

ment- But shall we permit a clown or panta-ber of killed is not known, as no despatches | Revelations has reeched Stock Poggis-and the loon to enter the drawing-room or boudoir-no, have been received. not even under a Hood.' Putting pantomimic people on a par, was clown Grimaldi so very unfit for the drawing-room of Mrs. Serle, or pantaloon Barnes for the boudoir of Miss Barnet? Is it vulgar to go to Margate by the Harlequin, but genteel by the Columbine to read the Comic' instead of the Offering to be Comic' ? To put the screw of comparison into my cork model, have I made any drawing less worthy of the drawing-room, than Going it in High Style'?—any verse more perverse to gentility than

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Old Bet crying Mac-ca-rel !' happened to meet,' &c. Gad a mercy! did Miss Sheridan never read or see a comedy called the School for Scandal? If she has heard of my indelicacy or vulgarity, it must have been from Sir Benjamin Backbite. Mrs. Candour compels me to confess that I am not guilty of either. Joseph Surface would give me credit for morality; and even those Crabtrees, the reviewers, have awarded me the praise of propriety, confessing that though I am merry, my spirits are rectified. Like Sir Peter Teazle, I would willingly resign my character to their discussion; but little Moses has a post-obit on my reputation, and forbids my silence. I confess, besides, that on being so attacked by a perfect stranger, I did at first think it rather hard of her; but having now seen her book, I think it rather soft of her, and shall say no more."

"From another quarter.

"We are all here in the greatest alarm! a

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"Eleven o'clock.

people is riz agin the Kings rain, and all the Pours that be. All this Blessed Mourning Mrs. Griggs and Me as bean siting abscondingly at the tiptop of the Hows crying for lowness. We have lockd our too selves in the Then we have "Another account"- "From back Attical Rome, and nothing can come up another quarter”—“ A later account”- "Fresh to our Hanksiety. Some say it is like the intelligence," &c. &c. &c.; from which we take Frentch Plot-sum say sum thing moor arter a few of the various particulars. the Dutch Patten is on the car-pit, and if so we shall Be flored like Brussels. Well, I never did like them Brown holland brum gals! Our general rising of the inhabitants took place this Winder overlocks all the High Street, xcept turbed state ever since. Every body is in Their is a lowd speechifying round the Gabble morning, and they have continued in a dis-jest ware Mister Higgins jutts out Behind. What a prospectus !-All riotism and hubbub— bustle, and indicating some popular movement. Seditious cries are heard! the bellman is going end of the Hows. The Mare is arranging the his rounds, and on repeating God save the Populous from one of his own long winders. king!' is saluted with hang the crier !' Poor Man!--for all his fine goold Cheer, who ganised bands of boys are going about collecting wood Sit in his shews! I hobserve Mr. Tuder's sticks, &c.-whether for barricades or bon-bauld Hed uncommon hactiv in the Mobb, and fires, is not known; many of them singing the so is Mister Waggstaff the Constable, consid famous Gunpowder hymn, Pray remember, dering his rummatiz has onely left one Harm &c. These are features that remind us of the disaffected to shew his loyalness with. He and most inflammable times. Several strangers of his men are staving the mobbs Heds to make suspicious gentility arrived here last night, and them Suppurate. They are trying to Custardise privately engaged a barn; they are now busily boddy. There is no end to accidence. Three the Ringleders But as yet hav Captivated Nodistributing hand-bills amongst the crowd:surely some horrible tragedy is in preparation! unsensible boddis are Carrion over the way on Three Cheers, but weather Naybers or Gyes, is dubbious. Master Gollop too, is jest gon By on one of his Ants Shuters, with a Bunch of exploded Squibs gone off in his Trowsirs. It makes Mrs. G. and Me tremble like Axle trees, for our Hone nevvies. Wile we ware at the open Winder they sliped out. With sich Broils in the Street who nose what Scraps they may git into. Mister J. is gon off with his muskitry to militate agin the mobb; and I fear without anny Sand Witches in his Cartrich Box. Mrs. Griggs is in the Sam state of Singularity as meself. Onely think, Mrs. H. of too Loan Wiming looken Down on such a Heifervescence, and as Hignorant as the unbiggotted Babe of Of Mr. Harrison's respectable production the state of our Husbandry! To had to our (the Humourist), Mr. Hood takes no notice; Convexity, the Botcher has not Bean. No for it was brought forward and published by moor as the Backer and We shold here Nothing that gentleman and Ackermann in an honour- "The check sustained by the mob proves to if Mister Higgins hadn't hollowed up Fore able way; and was a fair competitor in the have been a reverse; the constables are the Storys. What news he brakes! That wicked common field. But we are glad to pass from sufferers. The cage is chopped to faggots, we Wigshy as reffused to Reed the Riot Ax, and these points to the work before us itself. The hav'nt a pound, and the stocks are rapidly fall- the Town Clark is no Scollard! Is'nt that a dedication this year is almost as good as the ing. Mr. Wigsby has gone again to the mayor bad Herring! O Mrs. Humphris! It is unwith overtures; the people demand the release possible to throe ones hies from one End of "To his Grace the Duke of Devonshire, the of Dobbs and Gubbins, and the demolition of Stock Poggis to the other, without grate Pane. great comptroller of all public performers, the stocks, the pound, and the cage. As these Nothing is seed but Wivs asking for Huzbinds kindly countenancing plays upon words, as are already destroyed, and Gubbins and Dobbs-nothing is herd but childerin looking for well as plays upon boards the noble patron of are at large, it is confidently hoped by all mo- Farthers. Mr. Hatband the Undertacker as the Italian, as well as of the present English derate men that his worship will accede to the jist bean squibed and obligated for safeness to opera this volume of the Comic Annual, with terms. inter his own Hows. Mister Higgins blames the Lord Chamberlain's special license, is rethe unflexable Stubbleness of the Mare, and spectfully and gratefully dedicated," &c. &c. "The mayor has rejected the terms. It is says a littel timely Concussion wood have bean The vignette a young clown, with a lan. confidently affirmed that, after this decision, of Preventive Servis. Haven nose! For my tern, riding on the merry-thought of a fowl he secretly ordered a post-chaise, and has set Part I dont believe all the Concussion on is very playful; and the cuts altogether most off with a pair of post-horses as fast as they Hearth wood hav prevented the Regolater bein original and amusing. The first paper, giving can't gallop. A meeting of the principal trades- scarified by a Squib and runnin agin the Rockit accounts of a parish revolution-a parody on men has taken place, and the butcher, the -or that it could unshatter Pore Master Gollop, the late French revolution, and, in general, on baker, the grocer, the cheesemonger, and the or squentch Wider Welshis rix of Haze witch the mode of communicating news according to publican, have agreed to compose a provisional is now Flamming and smocking in two volumes. the most universal and approved newspaper government. In the mean time the mob are The ingins as been, but cold not Play for want plan-is replete with humour. Stoke Pogis is loud in their joy, they are letting off squibs, of Pips, witch is too often the Case with Parrish the scene, and the fifth of November the day: and crackers, and rockets, and devils, in all inginuity. Wile affares are in these friteful it begins thus:directions, and quiet is completely restored." Posturs, thank Haven I have one grate comfit. Then comes, to crown the whole, "The Mr. J. is cum back on his legs from Twelve to Narrative." won tired in the extreams with Being a Stand"The Narrowtie of a High Whitness who seed every Thinking Army, and his Uniformity spatterdashed proceed out of a Back-winder up Fore Pears to Mrs. all over. He says his hone saving was onely Humphris. thro leaving His retrenchments. Pore Mr. “O Mrs. Humphris! Littel did I Dram, at Griggs has cum In after his Wif in a state of The grate exaggeration. He says the Boys hav The maid a Bone Fire of his garden fence and

"The mob have proceeded to outrage the poor poor-house has not a whole pane of glass in its whole frame! The magistrates, with And no more need be said. We find Miss Mr. Higginbottom at their head, have agreed Sheridan guilty of a trespass, with intent to to call out the military; and he has sent word commit defamation; but, in consequence of the that he will come as soon as he has put on his punishment she has already received, dis-Miss uniform. A terrific column of little boys has the cause, in the hope that it will operate as a just run down the High Street—it is said, to warning to her to conduct herself better in see a fight at the Green Dragon. There is an future. Of all the modes of attracting notice, that of endeavouring to depreciate others, in order to puff yourself, is the most disreputable. A chandler would be ashamed of it; and in literature it is below contempt.

last: it is-

immense crowd in the market-place. Some of
the leading shop-keepers have had a conference
with the mayor, and the people are now being
informed, by a placard, of the result. Gracious
heaven! how opposite is it to the hopes of all
moderate men- The mare is hobstinate-he
is at the Roes and Crown-but refuses to treat.'

"Half-past Three.

"Four o'clock.

"Alarming news from the country-awful insurrection at
Stoke Pogis-the military called out-flight of the Mayor.
We are concerned to state, that accounts were
received in town, at a late hour last night, of
an alarming state of things at Stoke Pogis.
Nothing private is yet made public; but report my Tim of Life, to see Wat is before me.
speaks of very serious occurrences. The num-hole Parrish is Throne into a pannikin!

812

Severil

Pales upon Pales cant put it out. Shells of a bombastic nater as been picked up in his Back Yard and the old Cro's nest as bean Perpetrated rite thro by a Rockit. We hav sent out the Def Shopmun to here wat he can and he says their is so Manny Crackers going he dont no witch report to Belive, but the Fishmongerers has Cotchd and with all his The Brazers next Stock compleatly Guttid. Dore is lickwise in Hashes,-but it is hopped he has assurance enuf to cover him All over.They say nothink can save the Dwellins adjourning. O Mrs. H. how greatful ought J and I to bee that our hone Premiss and propperty is next to nothing! The effex of the lit on Bildings is marvulous. The Turrit of St. Magnum Bonum is quit clear and you can tell wat Time it is by the Clock verry planely only it stands ! The noise is enuf to Drive won deleterious! Too Specious Conestabbles is persewing littel Tidmash down the Hi Street and Sho grate fermness, but I trembel for the Pelisse. Peple drops in with New News every Momentum. Sum say All is Lost-and the town Criar is missin. Mrs. Griggs is quite retched at herein five littel Boys is throwd off a spirituous Cob among the Catherend Weals. But I hope it wants cobbobboration. Another Yuth its sed has had his hies Blasted by sum blowd Gun Powder. You Mrs. H. are Patrimonial, and may supose how these flying rummers Upsetts a Mothers Sperrits. O Mrs. Humphris how I envy you that is not tossing on the raging bellows of these Flatulent Times, but living under a Mild Dispotic Govinment in such Sequestrated spots as Lonnon and Padington. May you never go thro such Transubstantiation as I have bean riting in! Things that stood for Sentries as bean removd in a Minuet-and the verry effigis of wat is venerablest is now burning in Bone Fires. The Worshipfull chaer is empty. The Mare as gon off clandestiny with a pare of Hossis, and without his diner. They say he complanes that his Corperation did no stik to him as it shold have dun. But went over to the other Side. Pore Sole-in sich a case I dont wunder he lost his Stommich. Yisterdy he was at the summut of Pour. Them that hours ago ware enjoying parrish officiousness as been turnd out of there Dignittis ! Mr. Barber says in futer all the Perukial Pray let me no wat Authoritis will be Wigs.

his Magisty and the Prim Minester think of Stock Poggis's constitution, and believe me conclusively my deer Mrs. Humphris most BRIDGET JONES." frendly and trully

For variety's sake, we now turn to a clever poetical jeu-d'esprit.

"I'm not a Single Man.

"Double, single, and the rub."-Hoyle.
"This, this is solitude."-Byron.

"Well, I confess, I did not guess
A simple marriage-vow

Would make me find all womenkind
Such unkind women now!

They need not, sure, as distant be

As Java or Japan,

Yet ev'ry Miss reminds me this-
I'm not a single man!

Once they made choice of my base voice
To share in each duet;

So well I danced, I somehow chanced
To stand in every set:

They now declare I cannot sing,

And dance on Bruin's plan;

Me draw!-me paint !-me any thing!-
I'm not a single man!

Once I was asked advice and task'd
What works to buy or not,

And would I rend that passage out
I so admired in Scott?"

They then could bear to hear one read;
But if I now began,

How they would snub, my pretty page,*
I'm not a single man?'

One used to stitch a collar then,
Another hemmed a frill;
I had more purses netted then
Than I could hope to fill.
I once could get a button on,
But now I never can,-

My buttons then were bachelor's-
I'm not a single man!
Oh how they hated politics
Thrust on me by papa:

But now my chat-they all leave that
To entertain mamma.
Mamma, who praises her own self,
Instead of Jane or Ann,

And lays her girls' upon the shelf-
I'm not a single man!

Ah me, how strange it is the change,
In parlour and in hall,
They treat me so, if I but go
To make a morning call.
If they had hair in papers once,
Bolt up the stairs they ran;
They now sit still in dishabille-
I'm not a single man!

Miss Mary Bond was once so fond
Of Romans and of Greeks;
She daily sought my cabinet,

To study my antiques.
Well, now she doesn't care a dump
For ancient pot or pan;
Her taste at once is modernized-
I'm not a single man!

My spouse is fond of homely life,
And all that sort of thing:

I go to balls without my wife,
And never wear a ring:
And yet each Miss to whom I come
As strange as Genghis Khan,
Knows by some sign, I can't divine,-
I'm not a single man!

Go where I will, I but intrude,
I'm left in crowded rooms,
Like Zimmerman on Solitude,
Or Hervey at his Tombs.

From head to heel, they make me feel,
Of quite another clan;

Compelled to own, though left alone,
I'm not a single man!

Miss Towne the toast, though she can boast
A nose of Roman line,
Will turn up even that in scorn
Of compliments of mine:

She should have seen that I have been
Her sex's partisan,

And really married all I could-
I'm not a single man!

'Tis hard to see how others fare,
Whilst I rejected stand,—
Will no one take my arm because
They cannot have my hand?
Miss Parry, that for some would go
A trip to Hindostan,

With me don't care to mount a stair

I'm not a single man!

Some change, of course, should be in force,
But, surely, not so much-

There may be hands I may not squeeze,
But must I never touch ?-
Must I forbear to hand a chair,
And not pick up a fan?

But I have been myself picked up→→
I'm not a single man!
Others may hint a lady's tint
Is purest red and white-
May say her eyes are like the skies,
So very blue and bright,-

I must not say that she has eyes,
Or if I so began,

I have my fears about my ears,

I'm not a single man!

I must confess I did not guess

A simple marriage-vow

Would make me find all women-kind
Such unkind women now ;-

I might be hash'd to death, or smash'd
By Mr. Pickford's van,

Without, I fear, a single tear

I'm not a single man!"

66

We

May-day The poem which follows this is a Vision," by Miss Isabel Hill, an extremely fanciful and very pretty composition. regret we have not room for it now, and that we can only say, it is worthy of the best of the The company with which it is associated. "Portrait of a Blind Man" is Hood all over, so that it is no wonder he cannot see.

An ode to Mr. Vigors, on the publication of the Gardens and Menagerie of the Zoological Society," is another of the so-peculiarly-peculiar Hood-isms, and the subject itself is so generally popular, that we are tempted to extract it.

"Give you good den."-Shakespeare. "So Mr. V.,-no, Vigors-I beg pardon,

You've published your Zoological Garden!
A book of which I've heard a deal of talk,
And your Menagerie-indeed, 'tis bad o' me,
But I have never seen your Beast Academy!
Or set my feet

In Brute-on Street,
Or ever wander'd in your Bird-cage Walk.'
Yet I believe that you were truly born
To be a kind of brutal overseer,

And, like the royal quarterings, appear
Between a lion and a unicorn:
There is a sort of reason about rhyme,
That I have ponder'd many, many a time;
Where words, like birds of feather,
Likely to come together,
Are quite prophetically made to chime;-
So your own office is forestall'd, O Vigors!
Your proper surname having but one single
Appropriate jingle,

-Tigers!

What is your gardening volume?-like old Mawe's! Containing rules for cultivating brutes,

Like fruits,

Through April, May, or June;

As thus-now rake your lion's manes, and prune Your tiger's claws;

About the middle of the month, if fair,

Give your chameleons air,
Choose shady walls for owls,

Water your fowls,

And plant your leopards in the sunniest spots; Earth up your beavers; train your bears to climb: Thin out your elephants about this time, And set some early kangaroos in pots;

In some warm shelter'd place

Prepare a hot-bed for the boa race,
Leaving them room to swell;
Prick out your porcupines, and blanch your ermine;
Stick up opossums; trim your monkeys well;
And destroy all vermin.'

O tell me, Mr. Vigors! for the fleas
Of curiosity begin to tease-

If they bite rudely, I must crave your pardon-
But if a man may ask,

What is the task

You have to do in this exotic garden?

If from your title one may guess your ends, You are a sort of Secretary Bird,

To write home word

From ignorant brute beasts to absent friends. Does ever the poor little coatamondi

Beg you to write to ma'

To ask papa

To send him a new suit to wear on Sunday?
Does Mrs. L. request you'll be so good-

Acting a sort of Urban to Sylvanus

As write to her Two Children in the Wood,"
Address'd, post-paid, to Leo Africanus?
Does ever the great sea-bear Londinensis
Make you amanuensis

To send out news to some old arctic stager-
Pray write that Brother Bruin on the whole
Has got a head on this day's pole,
And say my Ursa has been made a Major?
Do you not write dejected letters-very-
Describing England for poor Happy Jerry,'
Unlike those emigrants who take in flats,
Throwing out New South Wales for catching sprats?
Of course your penmanship you ne'er refuse,
For begging letters' from poor kangaroos;

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Of course you manage bills and their acquittance, And sometimes pen for Pelican a double Letter to Mrs. P. and brood in trouble, Enclosing a small dab, as a remittance; Or send from Mrs. B. to her old cadger, Her full-length, done by Harvey, that rare draughtsman,

And skilful craftsman:

A game one too, for he can draw a badger.
Does Doctor Bennett never come and trouble you
To break the Death of Wolf to Mrs. W.?
To say poor Buffalo his last has puff'd,
And died quite suddenly, without a will,
Soothing the widow with a tender quill,

And gently hinting, would she like him stuff!” Does no old sentimental monkey weary

Your hand, at times, to vent his scribbling itch? And then your pen must answer to the query Of Dame Giraffe, who has been told her deary Died on the spot, and wishes to know which? New candidates, meanwhile, your help are waiting: To fill up cards of thanks, with due refinement, For Missis 'Possum, after her confinement; To pen a note of pretty Poll's dictating. Or write how Charles the Tenth's departed reign Disquiets the crown'd crane

And all the royal tigers;

To send a bulletin to brother Asses,
Of Zebra's health, what sort of night he passes;~~~
Is this your duty, Secretary Vigors?

Or are your brutes but garden-brutes, indeed,
Of the old shrubby breed,
Dragons of holly, peacocks cut in yew?
But no I've seen your book,

And all the creatures look
Like real creatures, natural and true;

JOURNAL OF THE BELLES LETTRES.

1

tree? Such sights may, and do, affect soldiers in his harmless caprices, I soon procured one, | may be, a bottle to boot. We commence by his comrade in full uniform suspended from a who answered exactly to his description. But quoting the Soldier's Wife :"Who comes there?' said a sentinel to a at the time, but they never will view it as "A friend,' justice: it is degrading to them in the extreme. the following day, seeing that he did not menAdvance, and give Shooting is more congenial to their modes of tion the subject, I avoided recalling it to his person coming near his post. memory. It is in the Levant an almost uni- softly said a timid voice. 'Love,' said the sentinel, is not noble in seeing a soldier meeting the offended versal practice, as soon as a person falls ill, to the parole.' The same soft, timid voice said, thinking, and to mine too. There is something. have recourse, in the first instance, to one of Love.' these professed exorcisers. If their art does the parole, and you cannot pass. It is more laws of his country in the same haughty and not succeed in restoring the patient to health, than my life is worth, to permit you to pass.' manly spirit he met his country's foes; but We quote one more extract, which we sinby destroying the power of fascination, then Indeed, this is cruel indeed, not to allow a dragging him to the gallows is, I repeat, a slur the medical man is called in. But without this sergeant's wife to pass, to take perhaps her last upon the profession of arms." "A military chaplain had become so shameprevious preparation, none of his medicines farewell. I beseech you to let me pass; ere are supposed to be capable of curing the com- the morning's battle takes place, let me spend cerely hope is nothing less than a libel. this night in his company. I have travelled "Pass, friend: all 's fully drunk at the mess on the Saturday night, that three or four of those last remaining were plaint." We will not enter into the anatomical details forty miles to see him.' of appearances after death, except in one in-well!' It proved her last farewell." There are one or two anecdotes, such as obliged to carry him home. On the following "The appearance presented by the heart" the Regimental Dog," which will not suffer morning, to the astonishment of his dear comwas singular. Its parietes were as collapsed, us to entertain the supposition that "spinning panions, he took the following text: 'A drunkWe must also take the freedom of ob- and handled the subject with all the eloquence and of a consistence as flabby, as of those per- a long yarn" is by any means confined to the ard shall not enter the kingdom of heaven;' sons who have died of old age." We certainly are all most ingenious in self-serving, that when an author's title-page pro- and pathos of a saint. During the oration, deception: Mr. Millingen winds up by stating. claims the contents of his volumes to be the some of the young ones had the greatest diffi"I am incapable of enumerating the faults of gleanings of active service, it is unwise to culty to restrain their risible muscles; and, one from whom I received so many marks of designate any particular anecdote as "a fact." meeting the reverend gentleman after the serkindness, merely to gratify the curiosity of the We deprecate this, because some unreasonable mon, one of them said, My dear doctor, you people will take the hint that its less marked have astonished the whole regiment this mornidle, or the malice of his enemies. companions are not such. We give the annexed ing by the beautiful sermon on drunkenness,selections as characteristic of Shipp's feelings the last subject in the world we should have had such a dd headach as I have, you on some subjects, which cannot but gain him supposed you would have touched upon.' 'My would preach against it too.' credit, and which, to do him justice, he never dear fellow,' calmly replied the divine, 'if you loses an opportunity of advocating.

stance.

Now our author repeatedly alludes to his noble friend's vanity, pride, affectation, inebriety, betrayal of confidence, his sarcastic spirit, his want of religion: if he does not consider these as faults, pray what does he think them?

We shall proceed to make a cento from the various anecdotes scattered through these pages; but it must be next Saturday.

The Military Bijou; or, the Contents of a
Soldier's Knapsack: being the Gleanings of
By
Thirty-three Years' Active Service.
John Shipp. 2 vols. 12mo. London, 1831.
Whittaker and Co.

navy.

"The Drummed-out Soldier.

In conclusion, we give John Shipp a friendly "However necessary punishment may be in word of caution, to leave off sentimentalising, the army, and that it is necessary is beyond a more especially about rockets and cannon-balls, doubt, still I have ever been of opinion that to relinquish his addiction to grandeur of punishments whereby the delinquent is debased, language, and a too general redundancy of and held up as a public object of derision and epithets. We have refrained from particularlaughter, are injurious. The act of such dis-ising, and shall regret if our advice does not grace is a positive detraction from the respect-obviate these defects, and lead him henceforth ability of the military profession. No soldier, to study a style more becoming. His object whatever his offence, ought to be degraded as should be to write as the plain, straightforward common vagabond. What can reflect more soldier; in which case, the adventures of his ing spectacle of tying a rope round his neck, and emolument to himself, while it affords discredit on the British soldier than the lower-life will not fail to supply literary occupation a placard pinned upon his back, facings and to the public amusing illustrations of the I say it is a degradation to the buttons cut off, and the Rogue's March played soldier's habits and hardships. after him?

a

OUR readers, we do not doubt, will remember the Autobiography of John Shipp. We trust that, in recalling to their recollection the narrative of his life, we shall not fail to create a prejudice in favour of the Contents of a Soldier's Romance. By Mrs. Bray, author of "the 3 vols. 12mo. Knapsack. A series of desultory sketches, White Hoods," &c. &c. written in some parts with humour, in others honourable profession of arms, and a constitu- The Talba; or, the Moor of Portugal: a London, 1830. Longman and Co. with good feeling, will, we fear not, with all tion boasting of its freedom and humanity. If but the hypercritical, meet with a kind word he, the culprit, merits this, he falls beneath and a welcome. The frankness and candour the cognizance of the service, and ought to be of our author's preface baffles the designs of transferred to the civil authorities, and there THE melancholy and romantic history of the censure, and conveys the broadest hint that his crime be provided for; but never should he unfortunate Ines de Castro is here well wrought John Shipp does not write wholly and solely be the public gaze or jeer. It is a death-blow into a chronicle of Moorish history. The for very often, and, I fear, too often, the crime meaning to that of philosopher: Mrs. Bray has for literary fame, of any man we remember to to many a young man entering into the service; Talba is a Mahometan expression, similar in so visited is petty theft, which the civil law made a very picturesque personage of hers; would punish with a couple of months at the and she has also succeeded in giving consider"Hanging Soldiers.

have met with:

tread-mill."

The

able action and interest to her narrative. But this is a critical period for becoming following scene is an animated sketch of a an author; any attempt in the form of a book having so much to apprehend, so much to "All was in readiness. Alonso cast a look "However expedient and necessary exem- combat to which a young Moor is condemned. dread, in the present march of intellect,' where there are so many spies and critical Ay, for life or sentinels standing upon the watch-tower of plary punishments may be deemed in the army, Then God be thy literature, to resist the approach of every new to check mutiny or curb the rebellious spirits on Hamet, in which there was something less adventurer, as if he were an enemy. But I of soldiers, and nip crime in the bud, every severe than his usual expression:- Art thou am like him who sits with a craving stomach one, on deeply considering the circumstances prepared?' said the king, by the side of a brook, watching, with eager combined with hanging, will recoil at it. It death!' replied Hamet. eye, the nibbling of every little fish, on the detracts from the respectability of the profes-judge, young man,' said Alonso, as he raised Ere hooking of which depends his dinner. If he sion; it casts a black cloud over it, putting his arm and gave the signal. The trumpet If a soldier deserves the blood; for it sounded like the knell of did not cast in the bait, he could not expect soldiers on a level with the lowest and veriest gave one clear and hollow blast. It curdled to catch any fish; if I did not attempt to delinquents of the earth. write, I, like him, should have no dinner." death, let him die like a soldier, not like a death, to all but the obdurate of heart. With nostrils smoking, as Shipp, however, need not look upon his pickpocket or housebreaker. Blow him from the echoes of the surrounding mountains had Hanging is no example to soldiers; rier was thrown open; and with one bound volumes as altogether a "forlorn hope," which the mouth of a gun, or let him be shot like a finished repeating the awful clarion, the barhe is advancing against the batteries of criti-man. cism; but take heart, that, like the many he soldiers look upon it as a general disgrace or the bull burst out. has volunteered on, the present will come off reflection on the profession. What, permit me he uttered fearful bellowings, he stood gazing with credit; and, what is of more substantial to ask my military readers, can be more repug-around, shook his sides, pawed the ground importance, ensure him a beefsteak, and, itnant to a bold and intrepid soldier, than to see with his broad hoofs, but did not advance to

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the combat. He was black in colour; and the last efforts of his rage, that the sight of it | preface, accordingly, he, evidently at the therefore had he been named Nero. Whilst impressed horror. His blood streamed from his pense of Bruce's reputation, extols the Portthus he stood, wild cries arose from the circus. flanks; he bounded, rather than ran, forward guese traveller, as one who has amused his They were strange and mingled; some seemed with dreadful bellowings. He shook his neck reader with no romantic absurdities or incredi uttered in joy that the animal shewed little and sides, tossed the sand in his career, whilst ble fictions. He appears by his modest and us. symptoms of being willing for the attack. The volumes of smoke arose from his mouth and affected narrative to have described things as more brutal Portuguese, however,- those true nostrils. Hamet, as a final effort, determined he saw them, to have copied nature from the lovers of the game, who could forget even hu- to spring upon him; and, for that purpose, life, and to have consulted his senses, not ha manity in their sports,-greeted the creature when within a few yards of the bull, turned to imagination. He meets with no basilisks that with yells, hoots, and hissings; since it was confront him. His foot slipped-he fell and destroy with their eyes, his crocodiles devor always deemed an infallible mark of cowardice the knife dropped from his hand. All hope their prey without tears, and his cataracts fa in the bull if he did not instantly attack his fled; for at this instant he stood close to the from the rock without deafening the neighbou foe. Hamet was ready to receive him; his barrier, which cut off all retreat, and the wild ing inhabitants.' These round, rigmarole sen wood-knife in his hand—his eye fixed on his bull was making towards him, with head bent, tences were rolled against Bruce, a man whe enemy. His fine person drawn to its utmost to gore him to death with his horns. A cry of had patiently visited three-quarters of the height, every muscle in his slender limbs horror arose from the arena. Hamet sprang globe, by Johnson, one of the most prejudiced seemed to swell and to shew its power, as he up. There was no escape. Ines de Castro men of his age, who, himself a traveller, hal stood, like a greyhound on the slip,' eager for sat immediately above the very spot where the not temper enough to travel in a hack-cha the hardy encounter." youthful Moor was in so much danger. Quick to Aberdeen! Peter Pindar amused all peop in feeling and in thought, she tore from her (except Bruce) by his satirical flings, one i shoulders the crimson mantle in which she was which was wrapt, and threw it into the arena with so true • Nor have I been where men, (what loss, alas') a hand, that Hamet caught it-cast it over the Kill half a cow, and turn the rest to grass.'" bull's head as he prepared to gore him-and Bruce met these and other similar assaults ere the beast could disentangle himself from a manly way; in the way that all writers, the blind thus thrown over him, Hamet re-scious of truth and integrity, ought to meet the covered his knife, that lay close at his feet, and misrepresentations or calumnies of the envi struck it into the spine. His mighty enemy and malicious. "He concludes his preface t fell, a convulsed corpse." the following noble and remarkable words:I have only to add, that were it probable, a in my decayed state of health it is not, that I should live to see a second edition of this work, all well-founded, judicious remarks suggested. should be gratefully and carefully attended to: but I do solemnly declare to the public in a neral, that I never will refute or answer any cavils, captious or idle objections, such as every new publication seems unavoidably to give birt to, nor ever reply to those witticisms and critcisms that appear in newspapers and periodic writings. What I have written I have write My readers have before them, in the present volumes, all that I shall ever say, directly or indirectly, upon the subject; and I do, with one moment's anxiety, trust my defence to a impartial, well-informed, and judicious pal lic.""

There are some very beautiful descriptions
of Portuguese scenery: Mrs. Bray sees with
the eye of a painter; and one great merit,
that of historical accuracy as regards man-
ners, costume, &c., her pages invariably possess.
These volumes must add, therefore, to her
already high popularity.

The Life of Bruce, the Abyssinian Traveller.
By Major T. B. Head. (Family Library,
XVII.) 12mo. pp. 535. London, 1830.
J. Murray.

Dogs are sent in, when "the bull, that had been thus irritated by having the dogs turned out upon him, a usual practice, whenever the animal shewed any delay in the attack,-now sufficiently convinced all the spectators that such delay was not from want of spirit. With an aspect full of savage fury, he lashed his sides with his broad tail, bellowed, tore up the ground with hoof and horns, and darted forward towards Hamet. The youth, by leaping with an agility alone to be compared to the nimble-footed chamois as it springs from rock to rock, endeavoured, but in vain, to avoid the continued pursuit of the bull, his eye ever watchful for the moment of attack. No such moment occurred; and it seemed evident that his life would terminate with the time in which he should become spent and breathless, from the violent exertions he made to preserve it. Hassan saw this. He clasped his hands together in agony-he looked up to heaven-he uttered fearful cries, that mingled even with his prayers. He will die! he will die!' ex- A FORTNIGHT ago, on the issue of this new claimed Hassan. O for an angel's wing to volume of the Family Library, we briefly chawaft him hence in safety! Mortal aid is there racterised it as most deserving of the attennone to save him. But see, prophet of Mecca! tion of all classes of readers, whether for what a daring act! He has seized the terrible amusement or instruction; and return to it animal by the horns; he suffers himself to be now, not to alter, but to repeat and enforce our dragged round the arena. Now he hangs by verdict. To compress the marrow of Bruce's one hand he stabs him in the throat; the five volumes into one good thickset little book blood spouts like a fount of waters-but the of 535 pages, with an excellent portrait, woodbrute still lives. Look! Hamet falls from his cuts, and maps, for five shillings, is very like hold-God save thee! He is up again! he is getting the Iliad into the nutshell, and very on his feet! O, Allah, how I thank thee! deserving of public reward. He flies he flies!-but look! the brute is Major Head, too, has performed his task con mad with fury-gored with wounds. See how amore. He has dashed on as if he were riding he tears up the sand. He follows-he follows. over the Pampas, full of spirit and intelligence; How will Hamet escape? He has driven the and he has shewn a zealous regard for his subject, youth close to the barrier; there is no escape, worthy of a brother traveller, whose own rough no hope he must fall!' He falls not, he journeys have taught him the difference befalls not!' exclaimed Cassim. O noble Ha- tween an experienced observer and a fire-side met! At this instant a loud, continued, and critic. Perhaps he displays more acerbity than deafening shout of applause shook the arena; is required upon Lord Valentia's and Mr. for Hamet, bold, active, quick of eye and Salt's dissonances from Bruce; but it must also vigorous of limb, with one bound, at the very be confessed, that he frequently demonstrates instant the bull was about to toss him on his them to be mere cavils or mistakes. Ours, horns, sprang on the animal's back, and leapt however, is not the office to reconcile contro- The following anecdotes and remarks, toward over him. He ran forward. Nero had al- versies; and we shall be content to quote a few the close of Bruce's life, interest us much. ready received more than one stab from the passages as specimens of the style and feeling of "After the publication of his travels, Bra knife. None of them, however, reached any the "Life." occupied himself in the management of mortal part; still he bled fast, and there was "When Bruce's work was completed, just estate, and of his extensive coaleries. Er hope, could Hamet but keep him at bay till the before it was printed, and while public atten- visited London occasionally, and kept up creature was somewhat spent by loss of blood, tion was eagerly expecting it, Johnson trans-correspondence with Daines Barrington he might even yet despatch him. So great lated and published the travels in Abyssinia of with Buffon. He also employed his time z was the interest excited in the breasts of the the Jesuit Jereme Lobo. In the Gentleman's Biblical literature, and even projected an editie spectators, that many called out to him to make Magazine for 1789, it is stated that Johnson of the Bible, with notes, pointing out numbe for the extremity of the arena, under the king's had declared to Sir John Hawkins, that when less instances in which the Jewish history pavilion, as being farthest removed from his he first conversed with Mr. Bruce the Abys- singularly confirmed by his own observa) sinian traveller, he was very much inclined to He took a deep interest in the French rev believe that he had been there; but that he had tion. He had received much personal kissafterwards altered his opinion!' In Johnson'sness from Louis XVI., and when intelligast

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"The bull had, indeed, turned again to the pursuit; and that with so much fierceness,

Upon these matters Major Head says wel"There is surely nothing which, in opinion of liberal men, can more degrade a country-nothing which, at the great table 1 the world, more deservedly places it below salt'-than its unreasonably disbelieving an h nourable man. A man's opinions may be ca vassed, his theories may be opposed, his arr ments may be resisted; but, without rhyme reason, to disbelieve his statements, is at to sever the band which holds society together. it destroys the allegiance which a well-disp individual would willingly feel that he owes public opinion; it tells him that his only fensive weapon is contempt. Sir, you are a gentleman!' exclaimed a passionate, irration man. Sir, you are no judge!' was the cam contemptuous reply."

JOURNAL OF THE BELLES LETTRES.

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Thanks be to Harvey, who their portraits drew
And to the cutters praise is justly due t
To Branston always, and to always Wright
Go on, thm, publishing your monthly parts,
And let the wealthy crowd,

The noble and the proud,

Leam of brute beasts to patronbe the arts

So may your household flourish in the Park,

And no long bos go to his long home

No antelope give up the vital spark

But all, with this your scientific me

Go on as swimmingly as old Noah's ark

Our author should surely be made laureate to the Society, and sing in a cage as a Hood-ed

But we are getting out of bounds, and must "Domestic Asides" is a prune our wings. neat piece of point; "the Step-father," and his contrast at page 123, two excellent little essays; and My Son and Heir," could be written by nobody but our author." The Supper Superstition" follows:

"Twas twelve o'clock by Chelsea chimes,
When all in hungry trim,

God Mister Jupp sal down to sup,
With wife, Kate, Jis.

Said he,upen this dainty cod
How bravely I shall sup

When, whiter than the table-cloth,

A ghout came rising up!

0, father dear, O, mother dear,
Dear Kate and lather Jim

readers who love mirth, to buy Hood's Comic mens: the "Step-father" is admirable, and
illustrates a capital story: the others will speak
Annual
We have given three of the cuts as speci- for themselves to our holyday readers.

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