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pauses in his tale at the most interesting point, and says to the public, "Give me encouragement, and I will tell you more. You shall be informed Let us guard ourselves against being how Hajji Baba accompanied a great mistaken. Hajji Baba may be read; ambassador to England; of their ad- and there are, as our extracts will ventures by sea and land; of all he prove, some good things in it. But, as saw and all he remarked; and of what a whole, it is tiresome, incoherent, and happened to him on his return to Per- full of "damnable iteration." Comsia. But, in case," he adds, like the bats-caravans-reviews--palaces · third Dervise, (a personage in the processions-repeating themselves over tale,) "he should find that he has not and over again--and many of them yet acquired the art of leading on the repetitions, and weak repetitions, of attention of the curious, he will never what we have had, in strength, from venture to appear again before the Mr. Hope before. world, until he has gained the necessary experience to ensure success."

--

Now, the author of Anastasius may command encouragement in abundance to do any thing else; but he shall have no encouragement from us to continue the history of Hajji Baba. An Oriental gentleman, who can neither fight nor make love, will never do to buckle three more volumes upon the back of these.

Seriously, Hajji Baba should be cashiered forthwith. As far as the public is concerned, the journey of the "pilgrim" should be at an end. And, indeed, England to be described by any foreigner, is a subject just now not the most promising. For the dif ference between Mr. Hope's last work and his present one, it would be difficult to account; but certainly, if he writes again, let him at least trust freely to his own conceptions. The present book has none of the eloquence or poetic feeling, very little of the wit, and still less of the fine tase, which distinquished the former in so eminent a degree. Of Anastasius, one would say, that it seemed to have been written by some mighty hand, from a store, full, almost to overflowing, with rich and curious material; of Hajji Baba, that some imitator, of very little comparative force indeed, had picked up the remnant of the rifled note-book, and brought it to market in the best shape that he was able.

Besides, we have already got some specimen of Hajji's talent for describing European peculiarities; and, from what we see, we should say most decidedly, Let us on that head have no more. All the business about the vaccination—and the doctor's desire to dissect dead bodies" Boonapoort," the East India "Coompani," and the European constitutions, is, to speak the truth plainly, very wretched stuff indeed. And we say this with the less hesitation to Mr. Hope, because we have expressed our unfeigned admiration of his former work. It should

(Lond. Lit. Gaz.)

THE ROBIN-A COMPARISON.

TRUE, Mary! 'tis a shaded hour,

And friends are falsely flown; Affliction's darkest tempests low'r, And thou art left alone.

But thou canst cheer the gloomy way,
And share my sorrows too;
Ah, mid the beams of pleasure's day,
I ne'er thy value knew.

So, Mary, when the feather'd quire
Are wildly warbling near,

seem that he can do well; and if so, there is no excuse for him when he does miserably ill.

The robin's tones we scarce desire
To join the chorus here.

But when, 'mid winter's bleakest hours,
These minstrels chant no more,
And leave the lonely woodland bow'rs,
So musical before-

Then to my desolated cot

The Robin speeds his way,

And shares my hearth, my food, my lot,
And charms me with his lay.

THE MONTHS.--MARCH.
(New Mon.)

IF
[F there be a month the aspect of
which is less amiable, and the man-
ners and habits of which are less pre-
possessing than those of all the st,
which I am loth to admit, that month
is March. The burning heats of Mid-
summer (when they shall come to us
at the prophetic call of the Quarterly
Reviewers-which they never will,) I
shall be able to bear. And the frosts
and snows of December and January
are as welcome to me in their turn as
the flowers in May. Nay, the so
much vituperated fogs in November I
by no means set my face against ; on
the contrary, I have a kind of appetite
for them both corporeal and mental.
As an affair of mere breath there is
something tangible in them. In the
evanescent air of Italy a man might as
well not breathe at all, for any thing
he knows of the matter. But in a No-
vember fog there is something satisfy--being neither Spring, Summer, Au-
ing. You can feel what you breathe, tumn, nor Winter, but only March.
and see it too. It is like breathing
water-as I suppose the fishes do.-
And then the taste of them, when
dashed with a due seasoning of sea-
coal smoke, is far from insipid. Not
that I would recommend them medi-
cinally; especially to persons of quea-
sy stomachs, delicate nerves, and af-
flicted with bile. But for one of a
good robust habit of body, and not
dainty withal, which such, by the bye,
never are, there is nothing better in its
way than a well-mixed Metropolitan
fog. There is something substan-
tial in it. You
66
may cut and come
again." It is at once meat and drink,
too;-something between egg-flip and
omelette soufflée; but much more di-
gestible than either. And it wraps
you round like a cloak, into the bar-
gain. No-I maintain that a London
fog is a thing not to be sneezed at-
if you can help it.-Mem. As many
spurious imitations of the above are
abroad-such as Scotch mists, and the

But what I particularly object to in
March is its winds. They say-

like-which are no less deleterious
than disagreeable-please to ask for
the "true London Particular"-as

Smoke, Steam, & Co.-no others are
genuine.

In fact, and sub rosa,-November
is month that has not been fairly
done by; and for my part I think it
should by no means have been fixed
upon as that which is, par excellence,
the month best adapted to hang and
drown one's self in ;-seeing that, to a
wise man, that should never be an af-
fair of atmosphere. But if a month
must be set apart for such a process-
(on the principle of luck-which de-
termines that we are bound to begin
our worldly concerns on a particular
day, viz. on Saturday-and would,
therefore, by a parity of reasoning, call
upon us to end them with a similar
view to times and seasons) let that
month be henceforth March ;-for it
has, at this present writing, no one
characteristic by which to designate it

"March winds and April showers
Bring forth May flowers."

But I doubt the fact. They may call
them forth, perhaps,-whistling over
the roofs of their subterraneous dwell-
ings, to let them know that Winter is
past and gone. Or, in our disposition
to "turn diseases to commodities," let
us regard them as the expectant dam-
sel does the sound of the mail-coach
horn as it whisks through the village
as she lies in bed at midnight, and tells
her that to-morrow she may look for a
letter from her absent swain.

The only other reason why I object
to March is that she drives hares mad;
which is a great fault.—But be all this
as it may, she is still fraught with mer-
its; and let us proceed, without more
ado, to point out a few of them. And
first of the country;-to which, by the
way, I have not hitherto allowed its
supremacy-for

due
"God made the country, but man made the town.”
Now, then, even the winds of

manufactured by Thames, Coal-gas, March,-notwithstanding all that we

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have insinuated in their disfavour—are far from being virtueless; for they come careering over our fields, and roads, and pathways, and while they dry up the damps that the thaws had let loose, and the previous frosts had prevented from sinking into the earth, -" pipe to the spirit ditties," the words of which tell tales of the forthcoming flowers. And not only so, but occasionally they are caught bearing away upon their rough wings the mingled odours of violet and daffodil-both of which have already ventured to

- Come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty,"

Can it ever be too late in the day to go on with the quotation, and say that now, too, we have

-Violets dim,

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength-a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips,
And the crown-imperial."

We have made our way into the garden at once, without intending it. But perhaps we could not do better; for the general face of Nature is not much changed in appearance since we left it in February; though its internal economy has made an important step in advance. The sap is alive in the seem ingly sleeping trunks that every where surround us, and is beginning to mount slowly to its destination; and the embryo blooms are almost visibly struggling towards light and life, beneath their rough, unpromising outer coatsunpromising to the idle, the unthink ing, and the inobservant; but to the eye that "can see Othello's visage in his mind," bright and beautiful, in virtue of the brightness and the beauty that they cover, but not conceal. Now, too, the dark earth becomes soft and tractable, and yields to the kindly constraint that calls upon it to teem with new life-crumbling to the touch, that it may the better clasp in its fragrant bosom the rudiments of that gay but ephemeral creation which are born with the Spring, only "to run their race rejoicing" into the lap of Summer, 15 ATHENEUM VOL. 1. new series.

and then yield up their sweet breath, a willing incense, at the shrine of that nature, the spirit of which is endless constancy growing out of endless change. Must I tell the reader this in plainer prose? Now, then, is the time to sow the seeds of most of the annual flowering plants; particularly of those which we all know and love-such as sweet-pea, the most feminine of flowers-that must have a kind hand to tend its youth, and a supporting arm to cling to in its maturity, or it grovels in the dust, and straggles away into an unsightly weed; and mignonette, with a name as sweet as its breath-that loves "within a gentle bosom to be laid," and makes haste to die there, lest its white lodging should be chang ed; and larkspur, trim, gay, and bold -the gallant of the garden; and lupines, blue and yellow and rose-coloured, with their winged flowers hovering above their starry leaves; and a host of others, that we must try to characterize as they come in turn before us. Now, too, we have all the bulbousrooted flowers at their best, and, may take a final leave of them; for we shall see them no more :-of the tulip, beautiful as the panther, and as proud

standing aloof from its own leaves; and the rich hyacinth, clustering like the locks of Adam; and the myriadleaved anemone; and narcissus, pale and passion-stricken at the sense of its own sweetness.

Now, too, the tender green of Spring first begins to peep forth from the straggling branches of the hedge-row elder, the trim lilac, and the thin threads of the stream-enamoured willow-the first to put on its spring-clothing, and the last to leave it off. And if we look into the kitchen-garden, there too we shall find those forest-trees in miniature, the gooseberries and currants, letting their leaves and blossoms, both of a colour, look forth hand-in-hand, in search of the April sun before it arrives-as the lark mounts upward to seek for it before it has risen in the morning. It will be well if these early adventurers-forth do not encounter a cutting easterly blast; or, still worse, a deceitful breeze that tempts them to

its embraces by its milder breath, only to shower diseases upon them. But if they will be out on the watch for Spring before she calls them, they must be content to take their chance.

Now, too, the birds are for once in their lives as busy as the bees are always. They are getting their houses built, and seeing to their household affairs, and concluding their family arrangements-that when the summer and the sunshine are fairly come, they may have nothing to do but teach their children the last new modes of flying and singing, and be as happy as-birds, for the rest of the year. Now, therefore, as in the last month-they have but little time to sing to each other; and the lark has the morning sky all to himself.

Lastly, now we meet with one of the prettiest, yet most pathetic sights that the animal world presents: the early lambs, dropped in their tottering and bleating helplessness, upon the cold skirts of winter, and hiding their frail forms from the March winds, by crouching down on the sheltered side of their dams.

Now, quitting the country till next month, we find London all aliveLent and Lady-day notwithstanding; for the latter is but a day, after all; and he must have a very countryfied conscience who cannot satisfy it as to the former, by doing penance once or twice at an oratorio, and hearing comic songs sung in a foreign tongue; or if this does not do, he may fast, if he pleases, every Friday, by eating saltfish in addition to the rest of his fare! Now, the citizens have pretty well left off their annual visitings, and given the great ones leave to begin; so that there is no sleep to be had in the neighbourhood of May-fair, for love or money, after one in the morning. Now, the dress-boxes of the winter-houses can occasionally boast a baronet's lady: this, however, being the extent of their attainments in that way: for how can the great be expected to listen to Shakspeare under the same roof with their shopkeepers? There is, in fact, no denying that the said great are marvellously at the mercy of the said little, in the matter of amusement; and there is

no saying whether the latter will not, some day or other, make an inroad upon Almack's itself. Now, however, in spite of the said inroads, the best boxes at the Opera do begin to be worth exploring; since a beautiful Englishwoman of high fashion is "a sight to set before a king." Now the actors, all but the singing ones, in their secret hearts put up periodical prayers for the annual agitation of the Catholic Question; for without some stimulus of this kind, to correct the laxity of our religious morale, there is no knowing how soon they may cease to give thanks for three Sundays in the week during Lent. But Mr. Irving will look to this on their behalf; so they need not fear just at present. Now, occasionally during the said pious period, an inadvertent apprentice gets leave to go to "the play" on a Wednesday; and, having taken his seat in the oneshilling-gallery, wonders during six long hours what have come to the players, that they do nothing but sit in a row with their hands before them, in front of a pyramid of fiddlers, and break silence now and then by singing a psalm-for a psalm he is sure it must be, though he never heard it at church. Now, Hyde-park is worth walking in at four o'clock of a fine week-day, though the trees are still bare: for there, as sure as the sunshine comes, shall be seen sauntering beneath it three distinct classes of fashionables;

namely-first, the fair immaculates from the mansions about May-fair, who loll listlessly in their elegant equipages, and occasionally eye, with with an air of infinite disdain, the second class, who are peregrinating on the other side the bar-the fair frailties from the neighbourhood of the New-road; which latter, more magnanimous than their betters, and less envious, are content, for their parts, to appropriate the greater portion of the third class-the Ineffables and Exquisites from Long's and Stevens'. Among these last-named class something particular indeed must have happened if you do not recognize that arbiter elegantiarum of actresses, the Marquis of W -; that delighter in Dennets and decaying beauties, the honourable

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LS; and that prince-prettyman of rake-hells and roués, little George W.

Finally, March, among its other merits, is richer than any other month in illustrious birth-days: a qualification which I had inadvertently neglected to notice in regard to January, though it includes those of our own Newton, of Robert Burns, and of that musical miracle, Mozart. On the 2d of March 1564 was given to a world which was unworthy of him, Galileo Galilei "The starry Galileo, with his woes." On the 8th of March 1684 was breathed into a human form

THE guests assembled in Budge-row,
Sir Peter Pruin mumbles grace,
The covers are removed-and lo!

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A terrible attack takes place : Knives, spoons, and glasses clitter-clatter, None seem to think of indigestions; But all together stuff and clatter,

Like glattons playing at cross-questions.

(New Mon.)

THE CIVIC DINNER.

that majestic spirit which afterwards was to alternately sigh and shout forth its high and holy aspirations, in the music of the Messiah. On the 15th of March, 1605, was born the gentle lover of the divine Saccharissa. On the 18th of March 1474, first saw the light that Atlas of modern art, Michel Angelo Buonarotti. And lastly, on the 23d, 1554, Nature, in a melancholy mood, sighed the breath of life into the form of Tasso; and which breath, retaining the character thus impressed upon it, was but one long sigh for ever after.

What's that on Mrs. Firkin's head?—

Roast hair and sweet sauce-wears a wig

So Lady Lump is put to bed,—

What has she got ?—a roasted pig.
Your little darling, Mrs. Aggs—

A reign-deer tongue-begins to chatter.-
How's little Tommy?-boil'd to rags ;—
And Miss Augusta?-fried in batter.—
How well he carves !-he's nam'd by will
My joint executor-the papers
Say Noblet's coming to fulfil—

Some mint sauce, and a few more capersLord Byron's cantos-where's the salt?

This trifle makes us lick our lips; Angel's syllabubs some exalt,

But Birch is surely best for whips.—
Nice chickens-Mrs. Fry must carry

A tender heart-but toughish gizzard➡
Do stick your fork in-little Harry
Knows all his letters down to Izzard.—

Ex-sheriff Parkins-fine calves head-
What's your gown made of?-currant jelly :
Fat Mrs. Fubbs they say is dead—

A famous buttock-vermicelli

Black puddings-pepper'd-dish'd-Belzoni ;A glass of-Probert's pond with Thurtell ;Lord Petersham-bad macaroni;

She's a most loving wife-mock-turtle.Yes, Miss- pig's face—had caught his eye, She lov'd his mutton-chops-and so They jumped into a pigeon-pie, Some kissing crust-and off they go.

I eat for lunch-a handkerchief

A green goose-lost at Charing-cross; I seiz'd the rascal-collared beef

And we both roll'd in-lobster sauce. St. Ronan's Well-Scot's collops-fetch up Another bottle, this is flatThe Princess Olive-mushroom ketchup-His Royal Highness-lots of fat.

Poor Miss-red-herring-we must give her Grand Signior-turkey dish'd in grease: Hand me the captain's-lights and liver,

And just cut open-Mrs. Rees.

So Fanny Flirt is going to marry

A nice Welsh-rabbit-muffins-mummeryGrimaldi-ices-Captain Parry

Crimp'd cod-crim-con-Crim Tartars-flummery:

HONESTY NOT THE BEST POLICY.
Ere aught I knew of this world's treasures,
Its tempting stores or tempting pleasures,
My good instructors always taught me
"Honesty is best policy" and so I thought me :
But think no more since, t'other day,
Tempted by sparkling eyes to stray,
I stole a kiss-which gave such feeling,
I'm n'er so happy as when stealing.

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