She now shall see I have a soul Which shall my future deeds control, She now shall see the starting tears, In heaven my hope, in heaven my fears, Birmingham. THE BONNIE LAD. Oh, no! we never mention him! For on the ocean's dang'rous brim Dear was the last love look he shed, When the ship's sail unfurled, 'twas said His "Lassie" watch'd in hope's soft link The "Bonnie Lad," beloved by all, But fears were strengthen'd into truth ;- Ellen is dull-her heart is sad; She seeks the ocean's brim ; But cannot find her " Bonnie Lad :" "Oh! never mention him !" M.. P. THE "HUMMING BIRD." No. IV. LITTLE MISTER TRACY. Come, come, if the camel would but look behind him, he would never call his brother Humpback.-Mahomed. The genealogy of Mr. Tracy could not be traced, or he might have been a rich man; that he was a gentleman, every one that knew him proved him such, although he was only a servant; but in the highest capacity, as clerk, warehouseman, and the confidential and trustworthy manager, of an eminent clothier, and the only seller of salt, in a manufacturing town in the western road, between Reading and Bath. All that was remembered by Tracy, was, that a lady once visited him at a public school in which he was educated; she discharged his disbursements, and he was fitted, or more than suited, for the responsible employment in which his time was occupied. At the time in which this sketch pourtrayed Mr. Tracy, he had to appearance attained to fifty years of age; and his reputation spread with his consequence, while his integrity supported his eccentricity. In the circle of many miles, no person was so celebrated for his gallantry to the fair sex, yet so unlucky he deemed himself as not to be able to gain the hand of any young lady, after having solicited so many, and was compelled to wear the cognomen of being a fusty Old Bachelor. No man living took more pains with himself, with whom he was on the very best terms of complaisance: no man strove more to add to the pleasures of that sex, which proved to him so inexorable. His letters were indited with more than a lover's ardour: they breathed forth his soul in burning epithets, which appeared to be calculated to melt the hardest heart. His language was sententious, and of a lofty character; and the fustian of flattery, which he never failed to apply to a beautiful girl, seemed enough to excite compassion, if not to produce a favorable effect in his behalf. But no: Tracy's courtship was made a laughing-stock and bye-word with those who had the honor of his attentions, and the perusal of his epistolary effusions, which often came in contact with each other, to his chagrin, when those, to whom he had communicated his vio lent affections, met, and tittered, and quizzed, were sufficient to cut all the ties of love asunder," and make any sanguine heart burst with disappointment. But, notwithstanding the mortification others would have felt and appreciated in mournful despair, Mr. Tracy was too much of a philosopher to treat his rebuffs with deep seriousness; for, as it would appear in the sequel, he was not in the least conscious of his personal defects, or could discover why deformity should operate to his disadvantage, when, according to the sentiment of his prototype, the bodily shape could be of little importance, while "the mind remained the standard of the man." Tracy had no ambition to contract an expedition for the admiralty, to “reach the pole;" nor did he sigh for an immeasurable height. But the ladies thought otherwise, and wished, at least, nature had preserved the " happy medium," when she created the outward man of Mr. Tracy. What he lacked in stature, he possessed in assurance: he was a short, crooked, loquacious, fong-jawed, hunch-backed, long-footed, bony-fingered, sallow-faced, small-eyed, pigeon-breasted, asthmalunged, swaggering-gaited personage. Why, then, should the eye of woman, which partakes of an omniscient quality in the discernment of her purpose, when her heart is concerned, be blind to Mr. Tracy's defects, and what many would call misfortunes? His voice, too, was of a shrill and untunable treble, which harmonises not in the ears of ladies who are familiar with the music of Cupid's rapturous incantations, working music in the hearts of young and susceptible beings. Hence, Mr. Tracy was compelled to talk of them, and he lived a bachelor, but, with the pleasure in his conceit, that he had made more conquests than the tallest Lad-der in the country, and could, at a moments's notice, marry the finest woman living. What a consolatory idea for one to entertain, who could not be entertained by the smile of the one he sued! But, if Mr. Tracy, putting his love frailties aside, were found in business, his importance was real, and his consequence effective. He was stern in command, regular to his engagements, and his voice rung like a bell in the manufactory. He was a good judge of cloth, and would discover the imperfections of labor with a scrutiny beyond comparison. At this time machinery was worked by hand, and the cloth, though better, perhaps, increased not in quantities, as it has since. Mills, in towns, were not many; steam engines, and horse-power mills, had not reached to the march of mind, and mechanical action was only in comparative infancy. But little Tracy was a great man, and he continued the same selfcreated being to the end of his days. He is now remembered, however, not for his foibles, eccentricities, and natural imperfections, but the high character he sustained, unimpeachable and strictly virtuous. J. R. P. STANZAS. I know not how it is of late, I feel this flattering world to hate- My brightest pleasures end in care, Friendship, alas! can charm no more, Yet there's a home of fearful rest, F. A. KISSING, A SONG. BY WILLIAM ROWLANDSON, ESQ. I have had a thousand bright dreams of bliss, But the purest of all joys is to kiss The rich lips round which pure smiles ever play! And oh! 'tis delicious to watch bright eyes, |