Whose dusky soul not beauty can illume, That boys and girls are crazy to be cooing, Its strength with fervour, and its breath with noise. Allow'd resistless as the Son of Ammon, Behold the great Reformer at Backgammon': Debt, taxes, boroughs, and decline of price, Forgotten all, he only damns the dice. But pause the urn that sweetly sung before, Like a crack'd lute, is vocal now no more; Dry as the footsteps of the ebbing sea, Effete and flacid lie the leaves of tea. And I, who always keep the golden mean, Have just declined a seventh cup of green. The noise, the tumult of that hour is flown; Lost in quadrille, whist, commerce, or Pope Joan, With eager haste my theme is clear'd away; And, Tea concluded, shall conclude my lay. LETTER FROM NEW YORK. BY MR. GALT. DEAR D, Having passed through the country westward of Utica no less than nine times, it is very probable that the incidents of one journey are mingled in my recollection with those of others. I shall therefore not attempt to give you any thing like a methodical and consecutive description of the different places, but set down my reminiscences as they may happen to arise. Utica being a convenient resting-stage for travellers going either to the east or the west, many halt there for a day, and generally employ that day in visiting Trenton Falls. It was not, however, the case with me. I have contented myself with what I have heard about them, and with engravings and drawings. I dare say, to those who are affected with the amiable languishment and all that, which "being a-seeing of waterfalls" produces on your London and romantic minds, while jauntily po-shaying in quest of the picturesque, they are well deserving of attention. Although the general aspect of the American scenery is woodland, I think it is not until you have proceeded westward from Utica that you become fully sensible of the peculiar character of the forest. Where the land has been some years cleared, as in the older settlements, the harsh arborous wall, which the tall naked primeval trees present towards the new openings, becomes mantled, as it were, with a second growth, and the skirts of the woods, in consequence, are not, save in altitude, much dissimilar in appearance to our own. Thus it happens, that to the east and south of Utica, the country has, if the expression may be allowed, a more civilized look than to the westward. Nothing, indeed, can be more drear and discouraging than the long dark forestline which, for miles and miles, stands like a precipice on each side of the road, with only a narrow strip of "improvement" (as the Americans call it) between, as melancholious as a churchyard: the stumps of the headstones bear an impressive resemblance. The interior of the woods is singularly silent-I would say, is awful. When the air is calm, scarcely a sound of any kind is to be heard, for the few birds that flit athwart the gloom are dumb. It is impossible that the European emigrant can enter such solitudes to form his habitation, without dread; nor the cate traveller to contemplate his condition, without golden green, of an exquisite tint, more deliparticipating in his anxieties and fears. -than painting can express, The comparison of a Gothic cathedral to the grove, is old and trite, but the associations which the vast forest-aisles and embowered arches awaken, make the sense of a present divinity far more powerfully felt than in the greatest cathedrals, with all their gorgeous talismans of devotion. I have attempted in the following sonnet to describe the first impression of the interior of the forest, that mingled sentiment of awe and mystery with which the images of age, and strength, and vigour there, irresistibly affect the heart. On the Entrance of the American Woods. What solemn spirit doth inhabit here? What sacred oracle hath here a home? What dread unknown thrills through the heart in fear, And moves to worship in this forest-dome? Ye storied fanes in whose recesses dim The mitred priesthood hath their altars built, Aisles old and awful where the choral hymn Bears the rapt soul beyond the sphere of guilt, Stoop your proud arches, and your columns bend, The high umbrageous vaults that here extend, Your tombs and monumental trophies hide,Mock the brief limits of your sculptured pride. Stranger forlorn! by fortune hither cast, Dar'st thou the genius brave? the ancient and the vast! It must be a matter of sad regret to the poets that a more dignified epithet than" chopping" has not been invented to designate the Herculean task of hewing down the giants of the woods; for really the business itself is not only noble and picturesque, but is often accompanied with circumstances highly imaginative. There is a fulness in the sound of the woodman's first strokes much more musical in the American woods than in ours. And there is something altogether in the labour of opening new scenes for the shelter and the industry of man, that cannot be witnessed without emotion and a strange delight. Lo, it hath made me again poetical. The Chopping. Or youthful poets fancy when they love." Man takes their place—and science, wing'd on high, Shall grasp the bolted fires their pride could but defy. Besides the stupendous toil of "chopping" down the immeasurable forest,-clearing a world with the axe and the hand,-there is a more expeditious mode of rendering the land fit for cultivation-"girdling," which is performed by cutting a zone, deeper than the bark, round the trunks of the trees. It causes them to die; and the brushwood having been removed from amongst them, the ground is then prepared for the seed. These dead groves are numerous throughout the western territory; and really, without exaggeration, the sight of them dismayed me exceedingly. I could think of nothing but skeletons and spectres. They reminded me of the most dismal spot on the face of the whole earth-a certain cemetery between Calais and Dunkirk, where every ensign of death's black pageantry is displayed in forms so alien to humanity, that all the dramas of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire, I am quite sure, have nothing in them half so mysterious and poetical. Bu, in the course of a few years, these gallows-looking monuments either fall down and are burnt where they lie. Hark! to the woodman's axe! the forest's or, being set on fire where they stand, such of knell Peals wide and far-the startled echoes moan! 'Tis as the note of a deep booming bell Sounding the exit of some mighty one, As when the fitful thunderbolts of war Wreak iron wrath, remorseless, on the wall, Shattering the towers, with cataract-crash afar, The hoary Titans of the forest fall. The startled deer, light-bounding o'er the brake, Halts and looks back, for the rude winds are still; And the scared wild-duck, fluttering from the lake, Wists not what sounds the silent woodlands them as happen to be hollow enact a torch in the most magnificent style imaginable-the flame roaring up through them with a zeal that would do credit to the foulest chimney on the eve of quarter day. After leaving Utica, there is nothing picturesque in the features of the country until you approach the banks of the Niagara river. When you have seen one clearing, and the style of the forest, the moors of Scotland are more interesting, as far as the landscape is concerned. To the political economist, however, no portion of the world presents scenes so interesting. The towns rise like mushrooms. I never see a steeple peering above the woods, without thinking of the growth of Jack's bean-stalk. But if the scenery be dull, the imagination is not left without amusement in the names of the different places. The stranger claims your homes, and rears his They baffle all conjecture as to their origin, dwelling there. Being in the mood, I may as well go on with another stave. Of all the sights of desolation -the field of battle not excepted-an extensive clearing before the "logs," as the felled timber is called, are burnt off, is one of the most impressive. With the settlers who have come upon the land in the spring, the burning is generally briskest in August. The state of the forest before the fires are kindled is the scene I would describe; and that your European taste may not be shocked at the seeming extravagance of my first epithet, I take leave to assure you that "green" is often the natural colour of the American evening skies-a having in their localities no resemblance whatever to those of the ancient cities, their godmothers-only think of Port Gibson between Babylon, Rome, and Palmyra! A friend of mine is building a Port Glasgow, which may be said to stand cheek by jowl with Carthage! I do not object to towns being named after celebrated characters, as some of them are, but it is the disturbance of all one's antique associations which renders the practice ludicrous. I have a great notion, however, without any evidence of the fact, that ancient names are here chosen chiefly on account of their euphony. The research to determine the point would be worthy the jave. nile antiquity of the country. I suspect that it would be found that the custom originated with some individual pedagogue. It should be put a stop to. Believe, oh Edipus, in a city called "Manlius-four-corners!" If I had any thing to say on the subject, it should henceforth be called Sphinx. (To be continued.) A CHAPTER ON OLD COATS. I LOVE an old coat. By an old coat, I mean not one of last summer's growth, on which the gloss yet lingers, shadowy, and intermittent, like a faint ray of sunlight on the countinghouse desk of a clothier's warehouse in Eastcheap, but a real unquestionable antique, which for some five or six years has withstood the combined assaults of sun, dust, and rain, has lost all pretensions to starch, unsocial formality, and gives the shoulders assurance of ease, and the waist of a holiday. Old coats are the indices by which a man's peculiar turn of mind may be pointed out. So tenaciously do I hold this opinion, that, in passing down a crowded thoroughfare, the Strand, for instance, I would wager odds, that, in seven out of ten cases, I would tell a stranger's character and calling by the mere cut of his every-day coat. Who can mistake the staid, formal gravity of the orthodox divine, in the corresponding weight, fulness, and healthy condition of his familiar, easy-natured flaps? Who sees not the necessities-the habitual eccentricities of the poet, significantly developed in his two haggard, shapeless old apologies for skirts, original in their genius as Christabel, uncouth in their build as the New Palace at Pimlico? Who can misapprehend the motions of the spirit, as it slily flutters beneath the Quaker's drab? Thus, too, the sable hue of the lawyer's working coat corresponds most convincingly with the colour of his conscience: while his thrift, dandyism, and close attention to appearances, tell their own tale in the half-pay officer's smart, but somewhat faded exterior. No lover of independence ventures voluntarily on a new coat. This is an axiom not to be overturned, unlike the safety stage-coaches. The man who piques himself on the newness of such an habiliment, is-till time hath "mouldered it into beauty"-its slave. Whereever he goes, he is harassed by an apprehension of damaging it. Hence he loses his sense of independence, and becomes-a Serf? How degrading! To succumb to one's superiors is bad enough; but to be the martyr of a few yards of cloth; to be the Helot of a tight fit; to be shackled by the ninth fraction of a man; to be made submissive to the sun, the dust, the rain, and the snow; to be panic-stricken by the chimney-sweep; to be scared by the dustman; to shudder at the advent of the baker; to give precedence to the scavenger; to concede the wall to a peripatetic conveyancer of eggs; to palpitate at the irregular sallies of a mercurial cart-horse; to look up with awe at the apparition of a giggling servant girl, with a sloppail thrust half way out of a garret window; to coast a gutter with a horrible anticipation of consequences; to faint at the visitation of a shower of soot down the chimney;-to be compelled to be at the mercy of cach and all of these vile contingencies; can any thing in human nature be so preposterous, so effeminate, so disgraceful? A truly great mind spurns the bare idea of such slavery; hence, according to the "Subaltern," Wellington liberated Spain in a red coat, extravagantly over-estimated at sixpence, and Napoleon entered Moscow in a green one out at the el bows. An old coat is the aptest possible symbol of sociality. An old shoe is not to be despised; an old hat, provided it have a crown, is not amiss; none but a cynic would speak irreverently of an old slipper; but were I called upon to put forward the most unique impersonation of comfort, I should give a plumper in favour of an old coat. The very mention of enjoyment. It speaks of warm fire-sides-long this luxury conjures up a thousand images of flowing curtains-a downy arm-chair-a nicely-trimmed lamp-a black cat fast asleep on the hearth-rug-a bottle of old Port (vintage 1812)-a snuff-box-a cigar-a Scotch novel --and, above all, a social, independent, unembarrassed attitude. With a new coat this last blessing is unattainable. Imprisoned in this detestable tunic-oh, how unlike the flowing toga of the ancients!-we are perpetually haunted with a consciousness of the necessities of our condition. A sudden pinch in the waist dispels a philosophic reverie; another in tion of the poet to the recollection of the tailor; the elbow withdraws us from the contemplaSnip's goose vanquishes Anacreon's dove; while, as regards our position, to lean forward, gant; to lean sideways, impossible. The great is inconvenient; to lean backward, extravasecret of happiness is the ability to merge self in the contemplation of nobler objects. This a new coat, as I have just now hinted, forbids. It keeps incessantly intruding itself of the becoming, it compromises our freedom on our attention. While it flatters our sense of thought. While it insinuates that we are pliment by a high pressure power on the short the idol of a ball-room, it neutralizes the comribs. It bids us be easy, at the expense of respiration; comfortable, with elbows on the rack. There is yet another light in which old coats may be viewed: I mean as chroniclers of the past, as vouchers to particular events. Agesilaus, king of Sparta, always dated from his last new dress. Following in the wake of so illustrious a precedent, I date from my last (save one) new coat, which was first ushered Queen's trial. Do I remember that epoch into being during the memorable period of the loyalty, the radicalism, the wisdom and the from the agitation it called forth? From the folly it quickened into life?-Assuredly not. I gained nothing by the wisdom. I lost as much by the folly. I was neither the better nor the worse for the agitation. Why then do I still remember that period? Simply and selfishly from the circumstance of its having occasioned the dismemberment-most calamitous to a have the honour of addressing this essay to the poor annuitant!-of the very coat in which I public. In an olfactory crowd, whom her Mamersmith, my now invalid habiliment was transjesty's LL wrongs" had congregated at Hamformed after the fashion of an Ovidian metamorphosis, where the change is usually from the better to the worse, from a coat into a eloped with the hinder flaps, and by so doing, spencer. In a word, some adroit conveyancer secured a snuff-box which played two waltz tunes. The same coat, on which subsequently, by a sort of Taliacotian process, a pair of artificial Wales, among mountains where the eagle skirts were grafted, accompanied me through dwells alone in his supremacy. It was the sole adjunct who was with me, when I ramlark was abroad and singing in the sky, or the bled along the banks of the Swathy, when the shy nightingale flung her song to the winds from among the hushed dells of Keven-gornuth. It was at my back when I climbed the feelings not to be described, I looked down loftiest peak of Cader-Idris, and when with upon sapphire clouds floating in quaint huge masses at an immense distance below me, and of thirty lakes, the faint undulating line of a saw through their filmy chinks the glittering thousand billowy ridges, or the blue expanse of the drowsy ocean, dotted here and there with horizon by the dim boundaries of the Irish a passing sail, and bordered far away on the coast. Moreover, it was at my back when I plunged chin-deep into the isle of Ely bogs, in which picturesque condition I was shot at, (and of course missed) by a Cockney sportshandsome species of the wild duck. man, who had mistaken me for a rare and TRIUMPHANT MUSIC. BY MRS. HEMANS. Tacete, tacete, O suoni triumfanti! On eagle-wings, through every plume that It hath no crown of victory to inherit Thine are no sounds for Earth, thus proudly Into rich floods of joy:-it is but pain No sounds for earth?-Yes, to young Chieftain With his freed Country's Banner o'er him fly- Well mightst thou speak of Fame's high No sounds for Earth?-Yes, for the Martyr Unto victorious Death serenely on, But speak not thus to one whose heart is beat- Against Life's narrow bound, in conflict For Power, for Joy, high Hope, and rapturous Thou wak'st lone thirst-be hush'd exulting strain. Rich thoughts and sad like faded rose-leaves heaping, In the shut heart, at once a Tomb and Or pass as if thy spirit-notes came sighing The Mahor-The mahor, or wild cottontree, grows in Cuba to a vast size. There is one, on an estate called Santa Anna, a hundred sixty-five feet, without a single branch or a feet high. Its trunk, which is forty-six and a half in circumference at the base, rises to single knot on its white bark. The branches are worthy of the stem, and cover a diameter of a hundred and sixty-five feet. This immense tree is in itself a world, and shelters and plants attach themselves to it. Wild pinefeeds millions of insects. Several parasitical apples grow at the top, and the vine vegetates on the boughs, and, letting its branches droop sum, which would find it difficult to climb a to the earth, furnishes rats, nice, and the oposthe pine-cups, which form so many natural resmooth bark, a ladder, enabling them to reach founds extensive republics in this tree, and esservoirs for the rain water. The wood-louse tablishes its large and black cities at the juncture of some of the branches, whence it deprovides two-one to ascend, and the other to descend by. This little insect is of the size of scends to the ground by a covered way, which it constructs of mortar, and of which it even a flea, is inoffensive, and is a great treat to the inhabitants of the poultry-yard, to whom it is given in its nest. BULL-FIGHT EXTRAORDINARY. THERE are few of the old " Peninsular" gentry who have not at some period of their campaigning witnessed a bull-fight, but the circumstance I am about to relate, and to which I was an eye-witness, exceeds in gratuitous daring and cool intrepidity, any performance on the arena of "Placa de Toros" by Caballero or Picadore, ever seen or read of by me. In the year 1823, it was my fortune, on a day in November, date not recollected, to command the guard at his Majesty's Castle in Dublin, where I was then quartered; on the following morning, about eight o'clock, I was walking in the Castle-yard, awaiting a suminons to breakfast, when the subject of my anecdote occurred. Every body has seen or heard of the Castle of Dublin; "not to know it argues oneself unknown;" it is the tenth wonder of the world, and as such deserves to be most carefully watched over. Accordingly, wherever a sentinel could be placed, at the time I write of, there was one to be seen pacing the half-dozen flags allotted to him, and inhaling the savoury steam of fat things issuing upwards through the gratings of the kitchen areas of vice-regal courtiers. By the by, the duties assigned to many of said sentries were sufficiently ludicrous, and have often overcome the gravity which I ought to have maintained when questioning them as to their orders. One was posted in a gloomy passage, to prevent injury to an old iron lamp, glass-less, and open to the four winds of heaven; another, a sort of moveable "commit no nuisance," protected a certain corner, overlooked from the apartments of the housemaids; but the most ridiculous was the reply made to me by a solitary sentry in a little inclosed grass-plat; "What are your orders, Sir?" To do my duty to all officers, and to watch the air." Not perceiving that the man was a cockney, I concluded that he was placed there for some meteorological purpose; however, the amused corporal explained to me, that the man's sole business was to look to the safety of a pet hare;-but this is a digression. The court of the Castle forms an oblong square, the principal entrance facing the state apartments, and at each extremity are arched ways, on which are sentries, as also is one on the King's colour which accompanies the guard, and is fixed in a stone rest in the centre of the court. Whilst walking, as I have already said, my attention was suddenly attracted by a noise and shouting in the lower yard, through the archway leading from which, in a few moments, dashed up a furious and ferocious-looking bull, bellowing with rage, and his nostrils almost touching the ground he spurned; fortunately the sentry at this passage, on hearing the noise, stopped short, clear of the archway, as the monster, glancing its eye at him, rushed on towards the man at the colours, who sprang to the portico of the state apartments, and esconced himself behind a pillar. The bull, irritated at missing his object, ran straight on, with redoubled fury, at my hero, posted at the archway of the opposite extremity of the oblong, who appeared to be devoted to destruction, as, with arms supported, he calmly awaited the onset. He was an Irishman, a grenadier, and an old and good soldier, who always obeyed orders to the letter. On rushed the monster, headlong at him, with a roar which I long remembered, and just as Pat's life seemed not worth a second's purchase, he carried arms, ported, and came to the charge, half sinking on his knees, whilst he made a lunge at his formidable assailant at the moment of collision. It was a fearful thing, and I closed my eyes, horrified at the only result which I could anticipate; however, a shout of triumph from the rabble rout of the pursuing mob, quickly convinced me that my apprehensions were needless. I beheld the brute, but an instant before so fierce, stretched lifeless on the earth, the black froth pouring from his mouth; whilst the attention of poor Pat, nothing the worse for his encounter, was solely bestowed on his broken bayonet, which he eyed very ruefully, and on my asking if he would wish to be relieved, in consequence of the shock he must have received, he declined, merely begging that I would bear witness that his arms were injured in defending his post. In a few minutes, the owner of the bull arrived with ropes and horses to drag it away. From him I learnt that the animal had always been remarkably vicious, and had killed its man in its time: having been voted a nuisance in its neighbourhood, it had been disposed of to the butcher, who that morning had treated his friends to a bull-bait, previous to knocking the brute on the head; the humane amusement having been concluded, the bull escaped from its tormentors, when being driven to the slaughter-house in the rear of the castle. The bayonet had entered the animal's forehead, a little below the horns, and had penetrated the brain to the depth of four inches; a fragment of the bayonet exceeding that length remained in the skull, and was extracted in my presence. The brave "Matador" is still, I believe, living, and serving with his regiment in the West Indies. Had "reading and writing come by Nature," he would doubtless have been as learned as he is strong armed, and might have obtained advancement in the company in which he supports the genuine character of a British grenadier. THE BAYONET. C. J. T. S. WHEN the French infantry, have to remain on the defensive in a position, they defend themselves by their fire; but more often, they attack, and then, after an engagement of skirmishes, and a cannonade, they charge the enemy's infantry with sloped arms (l'arme au bras). This manœuvre is executed either deployed or in close columns of divisions; it has often succeeded against the Austrians and other troops, who begin to fire at too great a distance from the enemy, but it has almost al ways failed against the English who do not fire until he is near them. In fact, if two battalions be deployed in sight of each other, and that one of them charges while the other remains stationary, and does not fire until the former has arrived within a very short distance of it, the battalion which charges, not secing the fire commence at the usual distance, will be intimidated, and when arrived near the other battalion, and after having received its fire, it will be overturned in consequence of the enormous losses which it will have sustained; or it will become much confused, and halt, in order to return the fire. If, on the contrary, the battalion which awaits the attack, has commenced firing at a great distance from the other, its fire will have produced little effect, and the cadre of the battalion charging, profiting by this circumstance, will accelerate its march, crying out to the men," Forward, forward; they fire; they are afraid; and it will overturn the battalion which awaits it. The English have also employed during the last war in Spain, and always with success, a manœuvre which consisted in a battalion formed two deep, firing, when the French had arrived within a short distance of it, and immediately afterwards charging, without even taking time enough to pull back the cock and shut the pan. We can easily imagine that a body which charges another, and sees itself charged, after having experienced a fire that has carried disorder and destruction into its ranks, must be overthrown. of foreigners, came to the outposts of a French regiment, in which were a great number of old soldiers, and said that all their comrades were, like themselves, disposed to desert, if they found opportunity. On the morrow the French regiment found itself opposed to the English regiment, from whence these men had deserted. The troops were deployed on both sides. The French charged in their usual manner l'arme au bras. Arrived at a short distance from the English line which remained immoveable, some hesitation was manifested in the march. The officers and noncommissioned officers cried out to the men, "En avant, marchez, ne tirez pas." Some even called out, "Ils se rendent." The advance was then re-established, and the French had arrived within a very short distance of the English line, when the latter opened a fire of two ranks, which carried destruction into the heart of the French line, checked its movement, and produced some disorder. While the cadre continued to call out "En avant, ne tirez pas," and the fire was establishing itself in spite of them, the English, suddenly ceasing their fire, charged the French with the bayonet. Every thing was favourable to them; the order, the impulse given, the resolution to fight with the bayonet:-upon the French, on the contrary, a greater impression was made, and the surprise and disorder caused by the unexpected resolution of the enemy, obliged them to fly. This flight was not, however, the result of fear, but of necessity. The French regiment rallied behind the second line, advanced again, and fought bravely for the remainder of the day. Similar circumstances will always produce similar results; for the most impetuous courage cannot but give way, if it be not seconded by good methods of making war. HALIL PACHA. HALIL PACHA, the Envoy from Constantinople to St. Petersburgh, has not the appearance of an Asiatic, but of a well bred European, acquainted with all the etiquette of our society. A smile which constantly animates his countenance, forms a singular contrast to the gravity we are used to in the Turkish physiognomy: his countenance, as well as that of the second ambassador, Redschif Effendi, corresponds with his manners. Politeness to the ladies is also another remarkable feature in the character of our guests. With respect to their dress, they have two different uniforms, the cut of both is the same, and much resembles the jackets of our Cossacks; the full dress uniform differs from the other in having rich and elegant gold or silver embroidery on the collar, and ornaments of the same material on the breast, as on the jackets of our Hussars. The pantaloons are fuller than those of the Cossacks. The boots are quite in the European fashion; the civil and military officers wear over their uniforms a large cloak with an embroidered collar, those of the two Ambassadors are adorned with embroidery from top to bottom; on their heads they wear velvet or cloth caps with embroidery and a gold or silver tassel. The cap belonging to the ordinary uniform, is a plain red one with a silk tassel. The military are distinguished from the civil by a diamond insignia, the size and form of which vary according to the rank of the wearer. The badge which Halil Pacha wears on his neck, has a crescent in the centre; that of the colonels is also composed of jewels, and is worn on the left breast, a little lower than the belt to which the cartouche-box is fastened; that of the captains has only one jewel. The Sultan gives these badges when he confers the commission.-(Preussische Staats Zeitung.) A WHALE ASHORE. WHILE riding from Cape Town to Simon's Town, I visited the beautiful estate of Constantia, celebrated for its peculiar and delightful wine, from whence it takes its name. The day had been unusually fine, but loured by degrees, and as evening closed in, the sky assumed a threatening aspect; heavy black clouds gathered in the south-west, and the lightning was seen playing vividly about the horizon, which is a sure indication of the approach of one of those terrible storms so severely felt on the coast of Africa. We pushed briskly on in hopes of escaping it, but the clouds descended so rapidly that they already capped the tops of the mountains, seeming ready to burst with their burthen; presently a tremendous clap of thunder broke directly over our heads, with such force that it appeared to shake the very earth; vibrating and echoing in the mountains around, it rolled solemnly away in the distance, leaving a death-like silence, which for a few seconds remained unbroken, when the rain came down in torrents, and in less than two minutes we were drenched to the skin. We galloped on at full speed, in order to save the tide (which was flowing) from preventing us rounding the point of Fish Bay, that stretches out into the sea, and at high water is difficult and dangerous to pass. Pitch-darkness had now overtaken us, and the sea broke upon the shore with violence; as the waves receded from the beach, they left behind a strong phosphoric light, which had all the appearance of liquid fire, so that at intervals we could distinctly see each other. Our horses became alarmed at the lightning, and started at every object which met their view; presently we heard a most unusual noise, resembling loud moanings accompanied with heavy shocks upon the earth, as if a ship was striking on the beach; thinking that such might be the case, we rode in the direction from whence the sounds proceeded, but I soon lost sight of my companion, whose horse ran away with him. On nearing the sounds, my horse became so timid that I had great difficulty in urging him forward; presently he stopped short and trembled, and by a sudden flash of lightning I distinctly saw the cause of his alarm, which certainly startled myself also; it was an enormous whale that had been driven on shore by the gale. The huge animal was floundering about vainly endeavouring to extricate itself; every slap it gave the shore with its tail sounded like a great gun, and the roaring noise which it made was truly terrific. My horse was now so frightened that he started off with me, rendering my situation very perilous, for there are deep quick-sands in the bay, where several lives have been lost; on one occasion a dragoon and his horse sunk together in them. However, I succeeded in pulling him in, and then had to dismount and climb over rocks and precipices in order to gain the road, for my horse would not face the sea again. It was midnight before I reached Simon's Town, where the noise of the whale was distinctly heard, although at a distance of three miles. My companion did not arrive until three o'clock in the morning. On the following day numbers of persons went out to see the monster, which measured seventy-six feet in length. The whalers (there being a fishery established in the bay) soon took possession of the prize. THE EXHIBITED DWARF. I LAY without my father's door, I did not dare to lift the latch,- Too well I knew when I was near, A stranger saw me, and he bribed C. B. They never loved me, never claim'd The love I could have felt; And yet, with bitter tears, I left The cottage where they dwelt. The stranger seem'd more kind to me, I panted for applause! I stood upon his native shore; In anguish I must still perform And bear inhuman scrutiny, And hear the hateful jest! I know I am diminutive, I could not wound a fellow Man But some there are who seem to shrink And then speak kindly; to my heart A hopeless wretch, who only asks GRAY. Soaring on pinions proud, The lightnings of his eye Scar the black thunder-cloud, He passes swiftly by. BURNS. He seized his country's lyre, With ardent grasp and strong; And made his soul of fire Dissolve itself in song. BAILLIE. The Passions are thy slaves; CAROLINE BOWLES. In garb of sable hue Thy soul dwells all alone, Where the sad drooping yew Weeps o'er the funeral stone. HEMANS. To bid the big tear start, Unchallenged, from its shrine, And thrill the quivering heart With pity's voice, are thine. TIGHE. On zephyr's amber wings, To bail the bright-eyed morn. LANDON. Romance and high-soul'd Love, Like two commingling streams, Glide through the flowery grove Of thy enchanted dreams. MOORE. Crown'd with perennial flowers, SOUTHEY. Where Necromancy flings COLLINS. Waked into mimic life, The Passions round him throng, While the loud "Spartan fife" Thrills through his startling song. THE FORSAKEN TO THE FALSE ONE. I DARE thee to forget me! Or on the sabre's hilt; Away! thou'rt free! o'er land and sea, Go rush to danger's brink! But oh, thou canst not fly from thought! Then go! that thought will render thee That thought, when thou art tempest-tost, In some vile dungeon mayst thou lio, And, counting each cold link Thy curse shall be-to think! That thought shall turn the festive cup And while false smiles are on thy cheek, Forget me! false one, hope it not! Will gall thee while they sing; I'll haunt thee in thy sleep, the atmosphere of New York-and in a Some years ago, in conversation French, and induced them to make an attempt to place the art upon a more respectable footing. For this purpose a society has just been formed by subscription, with a capital of 200,000 francs, to order engravings from promising artists, which are to be disposed of by the society, and to distribute rewards and medals. The King, and other members of the royal family, patronise this institution. Literary Prize-The "Revue de Paris" has offered a prize of two thousand francs for the best dissertation in prose on the following question: What has been the influence of the representative government, for the last fifteen years, in France, on our literature and on our manners?" The dissertations are to be addressed, before the 1st of March, 1830, to the office of the "Rovue de Paris," inscribed with an epigraph, and accompanied by a sealed note inscribed with the same epigraph, and containing the name of the author. Literary Port Folio. Died on the 17th instant, in the 32d year of his age, DR. JOHN D. GODMAN. Dr. Godman came to this city about 8 years ago, without money, and with-out to some projecting part of the rig-add the praise of independence to our notice of The Irish in London.-We wish we could out influential friends, with a determi- ging. His arms were supported by a the Irish character in London, but we cannot. nation to claim at some future time spar, and he was looking below him The Irish labourer submits to what the Engthe Anatomical chair in the Universi- for a rope which ran across, on which lish labourer would not, and thereby entails a ty of Pennsylvania; not by any canvass his feet should be. The rope flew degree of contempt upon his class. We heard a shopkeeper in Cheapside asked why he emamong those to whom the gift of that from side to side, and it was evi-ployed an Irishman for his shop porter rather highest honour belongs-but by ac- dent that the poor fellow was becom- than a Londoner. "Why," said he, "I can quiring and displaying a great fund of ing dizzy, and in danger of falling, do what I please with Pat, there, and I could'nt knowledge-and an unusual ability to when the mate shouted to him with do so with one of our fellows. When he shuts teach-in a word by deserving it. all his force, "LOOK ALOFT! you sneak-up the shop, I tell him to make his bed under the counter there, and so he does, and there How chimerical soever such an ambi- ing lubber!" By thus turning away he lays, and takes care of the shop, and he's tion, in so young a man, might have his eyes from the danger, the dizziness quite at hand to open it in the morning. I appeared to the idle young physicians was prevented, and he found his foot- could'nt get an Englishman to do that." We about town, (had our lamented friend ing. And this incident, the Dr. said, felt rather uncomfortable to hear a man talk this way. "Is thy servant a dog," that thou been in the habit of speaking to them often recurred to his mind in after life, shouldst use him thus? The great difference of his plans,) we are confident that it when his troubles grew heavy upon between the Irish and English, and the great would not have appeared so to the ve- him, and he hardly could find ground superiority of the latter in all mere matters of nerated man who has given to that whereon to tread. At such times he business, seems to consist in this, that they possess a methodical steadiness of procedure, professorship as much honour as he heard the mate's shout in his ears, and arising out of a complete concentration of the has received from it. He would have turned his eyes "aloft" to the prize mind upon the one idea that occupies it for the seen that there was united with the upon which he had fastened his hopes. time, which is utterly unknown to our counbrave ambition of the enterprise, an We cannot part with this beautiful il- trymen. Send an English servant of a message, and were it only for a shilling's worth of unusual proportion of that industry, lustration, without asking each of our cheese, he looks neither to the right hand nor which is the greatest of all human ta- readers to apply it to a still nobler to the left, but plods steadily on, with cheese lents, of perseverance not to be daunt-purpose: to steady themselves in all in all his thoughts, till he has secured and deed by the chilling and sickening power posited in your cupboard the wished-for Parmesan. The Irishman, on the contrary, would of poverty, and of delay. He would stare into every shop window, and listen to have seen the single eye which fixed upon every fiddler and piper on the way, and possithe highest honours of his profession, bly come back tipsey, with Stilton or Glo'ster. was turned away from the miserable As for the higher occupations, they say in Lonquarrels, and mean jealousies which at one time disgraced our medical schools. Commencing a course of private lectures and dissections, Dr. Godman soon had a class of seventy scholars; but the expenses of the establishment, to say nothing of his increasing family, obliged him to toil night and day, at such labour as the booksellers would give him-a scanty resource in this country. This incessant application, for he was withal at the same time a severe student, had already undermined his health, before he was called to be Professor of Anatomy in the Medical School of New York. this post he went as an important step toward the object of his life. His labours were continued with an intensity of application, which his friends felt to be destructive. Perhaps this unsparing devotion of himself produced its effects the more rapidly in Το the tempests of adversity by looking The first number of the Euterpiad: It is very neatly printed in all parts, and the music is nearly equal to copper-plate engravings. Subscriptions received at this office. Varieties. Engraving in France.-It has been for somo time remarked, that whilst proper encouragement was given in France to painters, the art of engraving was suffered to remain stationary, or rather to lose ground. The demand for splendidly illustrated English Annuals, how ever, has piqued the amour propre of the don that we Irish are too much a kind of lite rary Swiss, and will write on any side for payment. Perhaps there is something too much of this, but it is not confined to the Irish-except that it must be admitted the careless habits of the Irish generally make them the poorest class, and poverty is open to all manner of temptations. This, however, is rather an uncomfortable part of our subject, and therefore here we shall pause for the present. Dublin Literary Gazette. A Monkey Trick-In 1818, a vessel that sailed between Whitehaven and Jamaica embarked on her homeward voyage, and, among other passengers, carried a female, who had at the breast a child only a few weeks old. One beautiful afternoon, the captain perceived a distant sail, and after he had gratified his curiosity, he politely offered his glass to his pas senger, that she might obtain a clear view of the object. Mrs. B. had the baby in her arms; she wrapt her shawl about the little innocent, and placed it on a sofa upon which she had been sitting. Scarcely had she applied her eye to the glass, when the helmsman exclaimed, "Good God! see what the mischievous monkey has done." The reader may judge of the female's feelings, when, on turning round, she beheld the animal in the act of transporting |