THE LITERARY GAZETTE, AND

Beugnot, also better known since that period of the latter the following is

:

related :

A crowd of applicants and greedy expectants, from all quarters, besieged the different public offices; Frenchmen and Germans were seen soliciting on every side. Beugnot was greatly amused by the piteous and contrite air of all those ill-fated candidates who were desirous of approaching him, with the same anxiety that a convalescent seeks the mild influence of the sun's rays in spring. One of the most characteristic traits amongst the Germans is, that the superior is proud, haughty, disdainful, and soinetimes uncivil towards his inferior, whilst the latter is humble even to meanness. ridiculous was it not to see the unfortunate How barons of Germany crouch to the earth be fore the little advocate of Bar-sur-Aube! What affronts were they not obliged to put up with, merely to reach the anti-chamber! and how many bows did they not make on arriving there! One of these having got over all the difficulties of entry, poor devils, was, at length, fortunate enough to see the minister, who was standing with his back to the fire-His excellency sees and speaks to there is no longer any doubt of his fortune being made. latin, Baron?' asked Beugnot. Yes, your Do you understand excellency, replied the German. you know latin, do you! tell me then how Oh! to say, I put on my small-clothes, in latin? The baron had studied at tingen, Jena, and Tübingen; he had read GötHomer, Virgil, and Cicero; yet he hesi tates! what a dilemma! cried the minister, I plainly see that you Ah! Baron,' do not understand Latin! Upon this the surrounding sycophants burst out into a loud langh; the brutal sally was a charming wit ticism; because whatever the Dog in office says, must be a good thing, although it

him;

Royal of Wurtemburg were accidentally at | to be found in most continental cities, wished Cassel. The first was going to place him- to dispose of her daughter, a young girl of self by the side of the King of Sweden; the fifteen. Jerome had seen, and admired her. other travelled, having nothing better to do. to the charms of Madame L... but he cription: she must have a pension for herIt is said that the latter was not insensible sed herself with ifs and buts of every desThe mother, as may be imagined, oppowas surprised to find that Jerome had a self, her daughter, bribes for her relations a rival in a young and handsome clerk of the lord knows what besides. The most able prior claim: Jerome in his turn, discovered and friends; a dower, a husband, and the war office, while the clerk's deputy was a negociators about the court had failed; all life guardsman. This affair made some the Scapins were in despair; no one but the circles of Cassel; people only whispered it this difficult affair. The glory of success noise, and was spoken of in the scandalous Count de Hoe.. was capable of conducting about at first, and the police was on the alert was his alone. for a whole fortnight to trace the authors. The Prince of Wurtemburg intended to provided for the lady, a place for the husIt was stipulated by the minister of war, that a husband should be ed in smoke; the King of Westphalia had portion, also a sum of money for the mother make some handsome presents, but this end- band, and, in addition to this, a marriage promised a jewel box, and thought no more and daughter. But the most arduous task of it. The clerk and guardsman were obli- yet remained unaccomplished, this was to ged to relinquish their pursuit rather sud-find a husband who would willingly conduct denly. Some time afterwards Jerome be- the bride from the altar to the royal chamcame reconciled, paid the debts of the lady, ber, and yield up his right of priority. Such with the title of Count. I do not recollect reader. Madame Coll...., whom we may and gave her husband I know not what fief, a one was to be found, doubt it not, gentle what arms this illustrious nobleman adopted, justly call Mme. la Ressource, found one but certainly they were not those most ap-d'Esc....who was employed in the postpropriate to his domestic history. promote the pleasures of the king. The vicoffice, and who willingly devoted himself to conducted to the sanctuary, and the convetim, ornamented with flowers, was silently nient husband, having signed his dishonour, returned whence he came. The chamber

His wife belonged to a good Italian family,
respect to propriety and conduct, she had
and was not without some attractions. With
a street walker.
just enough to prevent her from becoming

the volume; but we are not fond of
indecent than this, are to be found in
Accounts of affairs more gross and
extracting pruriency.
ples shall suffice for us.
Minor exam-

soldier with an order to conduct him to a found, one evening on his return home, a lain Münchausen, having thought proper to make remarks on this little adventure, regiment as a conscript. The chief of the court, and excited infinite laughter. gery; it was thought an excellent joke at police was the inventor of this piece of wag

Already he seizes on letters, boxes, and nicheff and his Cossacks, put his majes-
portfolios, when M. de Bulow, who is con- ty and court to flight, and took posses-
cealed in an interior cabinet, appears sud- sion of Cassel, upon which occasion he
denly, and cries: "Stop thief!" In vain he made the French comedians perform,"
is told that it is the agent of police, this only
makes M. de Bulow cry out ten times loud- as the fitting termination to a dynasty
er; a number of people, purposely placed, of which, from beginning to end, they
serve as witnesses to prove the offence, and had constituted so essential a part.
a declaration is drawn up: while M. de Bu- A few grammatical errors require
low hastens to demand justice of the king. correction; and the affectation of con-
In the mean time the pretended thief is cealing names under initials, &c., is ab-
conducted to prison. Jerome was well
aware that he had compromised his dignity
The volume is however light
on this occasion; he dared not countenance and entertaining. The author writes
the conduct of the police, and therefore with spirit, and in great as well as
seemed to consider the matter in a very se- small matters, decides with all the con-
rious light; he sent therefore to the minis-fidence of his country. His best qua-
ters for their opinions. The Count de Furst lity is that of liveliness.
...and the minister of war, in contradiction

to M. de Bulow, advised that no farther steps should be taken in the business. But Simeon, who was not aware of the original scheme, represented the consequences of such a violation with so much vehemence,

This little triumph of M. de Bulow rendered his influence more formidable than

ever. The Germans considered him as an

oracle: the French feared him; and the king let him have his own way, because he furnished money.

surd.

Dramatic Scenes, and other Poems. By
Barry Cornwall. Second edition.
London, 1820.

Will through the lazy noon-tide moralize;
And so I'll learn tranquillity.

The beginning of the soliloquy is also very fine

This is a dreary world. The sun has made
A cloudy set, and as he died, his eye
Looked red and troubled, and did tell of storms
The ground as I was woat, and yet, I feel
A wild and buoyant spirit here that seems
To mingle with the circling element,
And lift me upwards, whispering me I am
For I have run beyond my course, and left
In something different from man. I am:
The world behind, and now I stand above

To-morrow. A dark world-Still do I tread

The reach of mortal accident. I wished

To be immortal, for my soul was proud
And grasping; want and woe hung on my heart,
And I was bruised by foul authority;
Could read the secrets of the skies, and look
And that I saw beyond my fellows and
Into the profound which spreads beyond the

We have much pleasure in reflecting, that that the king was constrained to act against when this delightful author first glanced those who had executed his orders. How-upon the public eye, the Literary Gazette ever, they deserved to be punished for their greeted his softly brilliant rising in the poetiawkwardness. The commissary general of cal horizon, with acclamations such as an police and his agent were driven from West- enthusiastic race of eastern worshippers use phalia; Berc...., dismissed from the police, when they behold the earliest coming of the became cabinet secretary, and General lovely moon. Had we any fear, it was that Bong...., commander of the gendarmerie, private partiality might unawares warp our took his place. judgment, and cause us, perhaps, to express feelings growing out of many roots, which the intrinsic merits of the single fruit before us would not seem to warrant. We imagined that from other considerations of which we were conscious, we could not so sufficiently appreciate the production, as to be entirely Probably the further view of this fair in our criticism; and we therefore waited with some anxiety to see how far our brother gang of Scapins may be advantageous-reviewers agreed with or differed from our ly referred to a work which reveals sentiments. They have unanimously coincided them in a lively manner; and therefore with us; and by common consent, the young we shall take our leave with two or Poet has been established in an elevated niche three anecdotes. When his Westpha- in the temple of fame, though as yet he has lian Majesty resisted rather strenuously only presented two slight volumes to the some of the impositions of his stouter world. These, we feel assured, are but the I prelude to some swelling act; and surely, if brother,Mr. Cornwall be possessed of any ambition, the laurels lavished on his first efforts must stimulate his genius to deeds still more worthy. We shall then be more pleased and more proud than ever to hail his increasing glory at present, it is only our purpose to remind him of the expectations he has excited by quoting a few passages from the

It is said that the latter, on reading a despatch from Jerome in which he very energetically supported his dignity, exclaimed: Oh, oh! if my brother had three hundred thousand men, I dare say, he would declare war against me.”

One day when the new decoration of the order of the crown, in Westphalia, was shewn to the Emperor, and on which the lion of Cassel, the horse of Brunswick, and several other emblems were represented, he

observed to those around him: "There are a great many beasts in this order!"

One day when the treasurer of the crown insisted on the grant of a tolerably large sum, alleging that it was indispensably necessary to satisfy the demands of the comedians: "This is all very well, Sir," replied Malsbourg, (Lord Treasurer); "but ought I not to pay those "who cry before those who sing "

new edition of his Dramatic Scenes.

The following lines, of a soliloquy in the poem of Werner, were not in the original publication, and are eminently beautiful.

Or I

Will lie beneath the shade of columns or tombs

urned,

tomb

Its dim illimitable regions, I

rain

Was spurned and hated; but no more. I am
Immortal now; hundreds of untold years
That now lie sleeping in the gulf of time,
Shall rise and roll before me ere 1 die.
My glance can reach the heart, and my hand
Gold-showers, and invisible spirits stand
Always around me: I can walk the waves,
And ride the winged winds, and bid them fly
On my dark errands, and I have the power
To call the dead up from their stony rooms
To do me service-I have a haunt beside
The bright home of the sun, aye, and can blind
The red Orion when he eyes the seas,
And strives to scatter from his cloudy arms
Tempest and storm: and so I am—a wretch.
We add two of the shorter poems-

THE MAGDALEN.

do remember it. "Twas such a face
As Guido would have loved to dwell upon;
But oh! the touches of his pencil never
Could paint her perfect beauty. In her home
(Which once she did desert) I saw her last;
Propped up by pillows, swelling round her like
Soft heaps of snow, yielding, and fit to bear
Her faded figure.-I observed her well;

Her brow was fair, but very pale, and look'd

Like stainless marble; a touch methought would

soil

Branched like the fibre of a leaf-away.
Her mouth was tremulous, and her check wore
then

Forgotten, where the ashes of those men A flush of beautiful vermilion,
Who filled the world with fame, sleep now in- But more like art than nature; and her eye
Spoke as became the youthful Magdalen,
Or on Athenian ground, or storied Troy,
Dying and broken-hearted.....
Or marble Thebes upon whose sands long since
The amorous Memnon in the morning light

Sang to the young Aurora-for amongst
Those haunts the spirits of the elder time
The conclusion of the reign of Je- Beneath the quiet of the midnight sky,
Wander invisibly; and we will alk
rome was worthy of it. In 1813 Czer-Of things and days departed; till the sound

SONNET.

Oh, for that winged steed, Bellerophon!
That Pallas gave thee in her infinite grace
And love for innocence, when thou didst face
The treble-shaped Chimera. But he is gone
That struck the sparkling stream from Helicon;

And never hath one risen in his place,
Stamped with the features of that mighty race.
Yet wherefore grieve I-seeing how easily
The plumed spirit may its journey take
Through yon blue regions of the middle air;
And note all things below that own a grace,
Mountain, and cataract, and silent lake,
And wander in the fields of poesy,
Where avarice never comes, and seldom care.

voice has been raised to hail the ap-
pearance of a performance so honour-
able to its author, and so creditable to
his native land. In that opinion we
cordially join; and giving only one ex-
ample from the work (suggested rather
by its not having been quoted so much
as others than by its superiority), we
recommend it entirely to our readers.

THE ART OF BOOK-MAKING.

paper, and ring a bell, whereupon a familiar would appear, take the paper in profound silence, glide out of the room, and return shortly loaded with ponderous tomes, upon which the other would fall tooth and nail with famished voracity. I had no longer a doubt that I had happened upon a body of magi, deeply engaged in the study of occult sciences. The scene reminded me of an old Arabian tale of a philosopher, shut up in an The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, enchanted library, in the bosom of a mounGent. London, 1820. 8vo. pp. 354. tain, that opened only once a year; where The first notice taken of this work in cundity of the press, and how it comes to commands, and bring him books of all kinds I have often wondered at the extreme fe- he made the spirits of the place obey his England, appeared in the Literary Gapass that so many heads, on which nature of dark knowledge, so that at the end of the zette, (No. 140) of September 25th; seems to have inflicted the curse of barren-year, when the magic portal once more and in two subsequent Numbers, we ness, yet teem with voluminous productions. swung open on its hinges, he issued forth so copied from it as many papers. A po- As a man travels on, however, in the journey versed in forbidden lore, as to be able to lite letter from the author, informing us of life, his objects of wonder daily diminish, soar above the heads of the multitude, and that in consequence of the favourable and he is continually finding out some very to control the powers of nature. opinion of his work expressed very gesimple cause for some great matter of marvel. nerally by the periodical press, it was Thus have I chanced, in my peregrinations about this great metropolis, to his intention to reprint it in this coun-blunder upon a scene which unfolded to me try, induced us to desist from further some of the mysteries of the book-making extracts, which to take in anticipation craft, and at once put an end to my astonof its being published, would, we ishment. thought, be an act of injustice towards Mr. Irving...for such, we learnt, was the name of Geoffrey Crayon.

to

66

My curiosity being now fully aroused, I whispered to one of the familiars, as he was about to leave the room, and begged an interpretation of the strange scene before ine. A few words were sufficient for the purpose. I found that these mysterious personages, whom I had mistaken for magi, were prinI was one summer's day loitering through cipally authors, and were in the very act of the great saloons of the British Museum, manufacturing books. I was, in fact, in the with that listlessness with which one is apt reading room of the great British Library— to saunter about a museum in warm weaIn the Literary Gazettes alluded to,we ther; sometimes lolling over the glass cases and languages, many of which are now foran immense collection of volumes of all ages paid the tribute of our applause to the of minerals, sometimes studying the hiero- gotten, and most of which are seldom read. American writer, whose sketches had glyphics on an Egyptian mummy, and some-To these sequestered pools of obselete literaa freshness and beauty about them with times trying, with nearly equal success, to ture, therefore, do many modern authors rewhich we were exceedingly gratified. comprehend the allegorical paintings on the pair, and draw buckets full of classic lore, It is therefore unnecessary for us lofty ceilings. Whilst I was gazing about or pure English, undefiled," wherewith to repeat these favourable sentiments in this idle way, my attention was attracted swell their own scanty rills of thought. 8; esto a distant door, at the end of a suite of pecially as the volume itself may now apartments. It was closed, but every now Being now in possession of the secret, I be consulted for their confirmation. We and then it would open, and some strange-cess of this book manufactory. I noticed sat down in a corner, and watched the proshall merely say that the essays are favoured being, generally clothed in black, one lean, bilious looking wight, who sought various and agreeable; that their mat- would steal forth, and glide through the none but the most worm-eaten volumes, ter is amusing or pathetic, as required rooms, without noticing any of the surround-printed in black letter. He was evidently by the subject; that their style is the about this that piqued my languid curiosity, dition, that would be purchased by every ing objects. There was an air of mystery constructing some work of profound erubest transatlantic which we have yet and I determined to attempt the passage of man who wished to be thought learned, seen; and that they display an amiable that strait, and to explore the unknown re-placed upon a conspicuous shelf of his liand cultivated mind, free from violent gions that lay beyond. The door yielded to my brary, or laid upon his table; but never prejudices, and endued with very consihand, with all that facility with which the por- read. I observed him, now and then, draw derable talent. Except in a paper on tals of enchanted castles yield to the adven- a large fragment of biscuit out of his English Writers, we discover no trace turous knight errant. I found myself in a pocket, and gnaw; whether it was his dinner, of the less pleasing side of the American spacious chamber, surrounded with great or whether he was endeavouring to keep off character. There the author, (page and just under the cornice, were arranged a much pondering over dry works, I leave to cases of venerable books. Above the cases, that exhaustion of the stomach produced by 108,) complains as we conceive without great number of quaint black looking por- harder students than myself to determine. reason, boasts without foundation, and traits of ancient authors. About the room There was one dapper little gentleman in threatens without effect. Literature is were placed long tables, with stands for bright coloured clothes, with a chirping, gosof no nation; and the wise of every reading and writing, at which sat many pale, sipping expression of countenance, who had country despise those scribblers who cadaverous personages, poring intently over all the appearance of an author on good would divide science into parties, and dusty volumes, rummaging among mouldy terms with his bookseller. After considersplit learning into factions. manuscripts, and taking copious notes of ing him attentively, I recognised in him a Surely their contents. The most hushed stillness diligent getter up of miscellaneous works, Mr. Irving has by this time dismissed reigned through this mysterious apartment, which bustled off well with the trade. I was the last slight touches of that impres- excepting that you might hear the racing of curious to see how he manufactured his sion which induced him to fancy that an pens over sheets of paper, or, occasionally, wares. He made more stir and show of American author would meet with an the deep sigh of one of these sages, as he business than any of the others; dipping shifted his position to turn over the pages of into various books, fluttering over the leaves an old folio; doubtless arising from that of manuscripts, taking a morsel out of one, hollowness and flatulency incident to learned a morsel out of another, "line upon line, research. precept upon precept, here a little and there a little." The contents of his book seemed to be as heterogeneous as those of the witches'

cauldron in Macbeth. It was here a finger | I beheld a ragged, threadbare throng, such thieves thieves!" I looked, and lo! the and there a thumb, toe of frog and blind as may be seen plying about that great repo-portraits about the walls became animated! worm's sting, with his own gossip poured in sitory of cast-off clothes, Monmouth Street. The old authors thrust out, first a head, then like "baboon's blood," to make the medley Whenever they seized upon a book, by one a shoulder, from the canvass, looked down "slab and good." of those incongruities common to dreams, curiously, for an instant, upon the motley After all, thought I, may not this pilfering methought it turned into a garment of foreign throng, and then descended, with fury in disposition be implanted in authors for wise or antique fashion, with which they pro- their eyes, to claim their rifled property. purposes; may it not be the way in which ceeded to equip themselves. I noticed, The scene of scampering and hubbub that providence has taken care that the seeds of however, that no one pretended to clothe ensued, baffles all description. The unhapknowledge and wisdom shall be preserved himself from any particular suit, but took a py culprits endeavoured in vain to escape from age to age, in spite of the inevitable sleeve from one, a cape from another, a skirt with their plunder. On one side might be seen decay of the works in which they were first from a third, thus decking himself out piece- half a dozen old monks, stripping a modern produced. We see that nature has wisely, meal, while some of his original rags would professor; on another, there was sad devasthough whimsically, provided for the convey-peep out from among his borrowed finery. tation carried into the ranks of modern draance of seeds from clime to clime, in the maws of certain birds; so that animals, which, in themselves, are little better than carrion, and apparently the lawless plunderers of the orchard and the corn field, are, in fact, nature's carriers to disperse and perpetuate her blessings. In like manner, the beauties and fine thoughts of ancient and obsolete writers, are caught up by these flights of predatory authors, and cast forth, again to flourish and bear fruit in a remote and distant tract of time. Many of their works also undergo a kind of metempsychosis, and spring up under new forms. What was formerly a ponderous history, revives in the shape of a romance-an old legend changes into a modern play-and a sober philosophical treatise furnishes the body for a whole series of bouncing and sparkling essays. Thus it is in the clearing of our American woodlands; where we burn down a forest of stately pines, a progeny of dwarf oaks start up in their place; and we never see the prostrate trunk of a tree, mouldering into soil, but it gives birth to a whole tribe of fungi.

There was a portly, rosy, well-fed parson, matic writers. Beaumont and Fletcher, side whom I observed ogling several mouldy pole-by side, raged round the field like Castor and mical writers through an eye-glass. He soon Pollux, and sturdy Ben Jonson, enacted contrived to slip on the voluminous mantle more wonders than when a volunteer with the of one of the old fathers, and having pur-army in Flanders. As to the dapper little loined the gray beard of another, endeavour-compiler of farragos, mentioned some time ed to look exceedingly wise; but the smirk-since, he had arrayed himself in as many ing commonplace of his countenance set at patches and colours as Harlequin, and there nought all the trappings of wisdom. One was as fierce a contention of claimants about sickly looking gentleman was busied embroi- him, as about the dead body of Patroclus. dering a very flimsy garment with gold thread I was grieved to see many men, to whom I drawn out of several old court dresses of the had been accustomed to look up with awe reign of Queen Elizabeth. Another had and reverence, fain to steal off with scarce a trimmed himself magnificently from an illu- rag to cover their nakedness. Just then my minated manuscript, had stuck a nosegay in eye was caught by the pragmatical old genhis bosom, culled from "The Paradise of tleman in the Greek grizzled wig, who was dainty Devices," and having put Sir Philip scrambling away in sore affright with half a Sidney's hat on one side of his head, strutted score of authors in full cry after him. They off with an exquisite air of vulgar elegance. were close upon his haunches; in a twink A third, who was but of puny dimensions, ling off went his wig; at every turn some had bolstered himself out bravely with the strip of raiment was peeled away; until in spoils from several obscure tracts of philo- a few moments, from his domineering pomp, sophy, so that he had a very imposing front; he shrunk into a little, pursy, chopp'd but he was lamentably tattered in rear, and bald shot," and made his exit with only a I perceived that he had patched his small few tags and rags fluttering at his back. clothes with scraps of parchment from a Latin author.

Let us not, then, lament over the decay and oblivion into which ancient writers de- There were some well-dressed gentlemen, scend; they do but submit to the great law it is true, who only helped themselves to a of nature, which declares that all sublunary gem or so, which sparkled among their own shapes of matter shall be limited in their du-ornaments, without eclipsing them. Some, ration, but which decrees also, that their too, seemed to contemplate the costumes of elements shall never perish. Generation the old writers, merely to imbibe their prinafter generation, both in animal and vegetable life, pass away, but the vital principle is transmitted to posterity, and the species continues to flourish. Thus, also, do authors beget authors, and having produced a numerous progeny, in a good old age they sleep with their fathers, that is to say, with the authors who preceded them and from whom they had stolen.

ciples of taste, and catch their air and spirit;
but I grieve to say, that too many were apt
to array themselves, from top to toe, in the
patchwork manner I have mentioned. I
should not omit to speak of one genius, in
drab breeches and gaiters and an Arcadian
hat, who had a violent propensity to the pas-
toral, but whose rural wanderings had been
confined to the classic haunts of Primrose

66

Whilst I was indulging in these rambling Hill, and the solitudes of the Regent's Park. fancies, I had leaned my head against a pile He had decked himself in wreaths and ribof reverend folios. Whether it was owing bands from all the old pastoral poets, and to the soporific emanations from these works; hanging his head on one side, went about or to the profound quiet of the room; or to with a fantastical, lack-a-daisical air, bab the lassitude arising from much wandering; bling about green fields." But the personage or to an unlucky habit of napping at impro- that most struck my attention, was a pragper times and places, with which I am griev-matical old gentleman, in clerical robes, with ously afflicted; so it was, that I fell into a a remarkably large and square, but bald doze. Still, however, my imagination con- head. He entered the room wheezing and tinued busy, and indeed the same scene re- puffing, elbowed his way through the throng, mained before my mind's eye, only a little with a look of sturdy self-confidence, and changed in some of the details. I dreamt having laid hands upon a thick Greek quarto, that the chamber was still decorated with the clapped it upon his head, and swept majesti portraits of ancient authors, but that the cally away in a formidable frizzled wig. number was increased. The long tables had disappeared, and in place of the sage magi,

In the height of this literary masquerade, a cry suddenly resounded from every side, of

There was something so ludicrous in the catastrophe of this learned Theban, that I burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, which broke the whole illusion. The tumult and the scuffle were at an end. The chamber resumed its usual appearance. The old authors shrunk back into their picture frames, and hung in shadowy solemnity along the walls. In short, I found myself awake in my corner, with the whole assemblage of bookworms gazing at me with astonishment. Nothing of the dream had been real but my burst of laughter, a sound never before heard in that grave sanctuary, and so abhorrent to the ears of wisdom, as to electrify the fraternity.

The librarian now stepped up to me, and demanded whether I had a card of admission. At first I did not comprehend him, but I soon found that the library was a kind of literary "preserve," subject to game laws, and that no one must presume to hunt there without special license and permission. In a word, I stood convicted of being an arrant poacher, and was glad to make a precipitate retreat, lest I should have a whole pack of authors let loose upon me.

Sketches from St. George's Fields. By
Giorgione di Castel Chiuso, London.

1820.

This satirical poem purports to be written by an Italian painter, to divert

his melancholy while in the King's As Belcour when returning bent his neck,
Bench prison; but in its progress he Admonish'd by the ceiling's stubborn check.
forgets his assumed country. It is a
That point secured, the coffee-room they
gain'd,
smart production, and, though not well The cloth was laid; with appetite unchain'd,
designed, surpasses both in composition Fierce as a wolf, and as a falcon keen,
and in talent, the generality of works Dire havoc Ranger made in fat and lean.
of the class to which it belongs. The Work for the gallery's thunders of applause,
Not with more quick dispatch Grimaldi's jaws
ruthor seems to be equal to a higher When thro' those portals of tremendous size
theme than the ignoble one he has cho- The cheese-cakes vanish from admiring eyes,
sen; he might be the painter of beauty, Than now the chops of mutton disappear'd,
but his contented himself with sketch-Till thrice the well-replenish'd dish was clear'd.
ing some clever scenes of the impure
place, where his head quarters were
(we hope only for a short period) esta-
Foled. As the little volume only
comes forth this day, we shall not pro-
long our comments, but proceed to af-
ford an idea of its fashion, by extract-
ing a few of its miscellaneous pages.
Some of its contents it is a happiness
rot to understand; and of the meaning
of many of its allusions "ignorance is
bliss." The first part commences thus:
The winds of March, with many a sudden gust,
About Saint George's Fields had whiri'd the dust,
And stirr'd the massive bars that stand beneath
The spikes that wags call'd Ellenborough's teeth;
Whether we grinders call them, or canine,
Those teeth, Chief-Justice Abbot! now are
thine-

But woe to him that calls your lordship currish.) 'Twas six o'clock precise;

Ranger becomes the cicerone of the
place, and explains its customs to his
friend. The first morning the new-
comer is obliged to sit for his picture,
i. e. have his features scrutinized by the
turnkeys, so that he may be known
from a stranger, and not have egress in
case of attempting a sortie.
Rose Belcour, dress'd, and soon the lobby found.
About the door a throng of varlets stood,
That scoff and gibe at every wight that wears
A grinning and ill-favour'd brotherhood,
Linen less black, or better coat, than theirs.
For these our Belcour was too fair a mark;
"Make way," crys one,
"he's going to the

Park,

His horses wait; he's going for a ride—”
"Fool! 'tis his Tilbury," another cried;
'D'ye think his lordship rides without

66

spurs ?-"

his

A curse confound such base unmanner'd curs."
Between his teeth impatient Belcour mutter'd,
As each his wit so truly attic utter'd;
Then 'mid the laughter of the brutal throng
Dark frowning, thro' the door he moved along.
Within the upper lobby Morris sate,
And touched with easy complaisance his hat;
And cried, not deigning from his seat to stir,
"We hope you're pretty comfortable, sir."
"Those chaps about the door are rather rum,
But, love ye! so they do to all that come."
Short was the conference; the Turnkey's look
Quick cognizance of Belcour's features took;
And never, from that hour, might he pass by
Unnoted by that well-observing eye.

Where hope of some short joy the sanguine draws,

| And vanity is fed by bad applause,

The brute his wonted offal seeks, the fool
Falls, with his weight, or, pash'd by ridicule.
O, never yet was youth's unstrengthen'd mind
Made pure by herding with the baser kind.
Here shifts are necessary soon, to live;
These to the mind a lasting colour give:
Such hold some vices in their practice take,
No force avails, their influenee to shake.
Some taints there are that in the frame defy
The keenest knife and fiercest cautery.

See yon pale wretch,-observe his vacant
stare,

His lustre lacking eye, and matted hair;

His squalid hands, his soil'd and tatter'd dress-
Symbols, at once, of want and low excess;
Two months ago he was an airy thing,
Light, crisp, and elegant, and free of wing,
Graceful in manners, stylish in attire,
In converse full of wit, of zest, and fire.
Soon sank his spirits, faded ev'ry grace,
Before the withering influence the place s
Not of that order of high mi
vas he
Whose efforts rise with growing isery:
From wine he sought false courage, and the glow
That gave a hollow respite to his woe,
Soon larger draughts were needful, in the sleep
That kills all memory each sense to steep,
Then vile potations of pernicious trash
Were swallowed, Reason from his brain to wash.
Behold him, now, confirmed the perfect sot,
That knows no heaven beyond a porter-pot.

We add but one other specimen : it is a graphic view, and given in the reply of a ci-devant fashionable to a brother prisoner.