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make a noise that would not a little astonish
and alarm a stranger. Occasionally they will
lodge themselves very snugly in a boot, and if
a person puts his foot upon them inadvertent-
ly, he has quick intimation of the intruder, by
For a few weeks in
a grasp of his nippers.
this season, they may be gathered in any quan-
tities, and the Negroes sometimes hurt them-
selves by making too free use of them. Even
the hogs catch them, although not always
with impunity, as a crab sometimes gets hold
of one of them by the snout, from which he is
not easily disengaged, and the terrified animal
runs about squeaking in great distress.

district at the time. On ascending Quahill, from the vale of Plantain-Garden River, the road appeared of a reddish colour, as if strewed with brick-dust. I dismounted from my horse to examine the cause of so unusual an appearance, and was not a little astonished to find that it was owing to myriads of young black crabs, about the size of the nail of a man's finger, crossing the road, and moving at a pretty pace direct for the mountains. I was concerned to think of the destruction I was causing in travelling through such a body of useful creatures, as I fancied that every time my horse put down a foot, it was the loss of at At other seasons, and when more valuable, least ten lives. I rode along the coast a disthey are caught by torch light at night, and tance of about fifteen miles, and found it nearput into covered baskets. Crowds of Negroes ly the same the whole way, only that in some from the neighbouring plantations pass my places they were more numerous, and in others house every evening with their torches and less so. Returning the following day, I found baskets, going to a crab wood on the other the road still covered with them the same as side, and return before midnight fully laden. the day before. How have they been produced Their baskets will contain about 40 crabs, and in such numbers, or, where are they come the regular price is a five-penny piece, our from? were questions that every body asked, smallest coin, equal to about 34d. sterling, for and no one could answer. It is well known five or six crabs. At this rate a Negro will the crabs deposite their eggs once a year, and make 2s. 6d. currency in an evening; and the in the month of May; but, except on this occamore improvident, who will not cultivate pro- sion, though living on the coast, I never saw a vision grounds, depend, in some measure, upon dozen of young crabs together, and here were catching crabs, and selling them to the others. millions of millions covering the earth for miles A hundred plantains, usually sold at five shil- along a large extent of sea coast. No unusual lings, will purchase from sixty to seventy crabs, number of old crabs had been observed that and two of these eaten with plantains or yams, season; and it is worthy of remark, that this make an excellent meal. I have seen upwards prodigious multitude of young ones were movof a hundred Negroes pass my house in an ing from a rock-bound shore, formed by inacevening, and return with their baskets on their cessible cliffs, the abode of sea birds, and heads, not only full of crabs, but with quanti-against which the waves of the sea are conties of them fastened by the claws on the tops of the baskets. I make but a moderate computation, when I suppose they must have had, at the very least, three thousand crabs. Almost every Negro family has an old flour barrel pierced with holes, in which their crabs are kept. They are fed with plantain skins, &c. and taken out and thrown into the pot as wanted.

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MEMORY.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "LILLIAN."
Nessun maggior dolore,
Che recordarsi del tempe felici,
Nella miseria.

Dante.

stantly dashed by the Trade-wind blowing directly upon them. That the old crabs should be able to deposite their eggs in such a part of the coast, (if that, as would appear, is the habit of the animal) is not a little extraordinary. No person in Jamaica, so far as I know, or have heard, ever saw such a sight, or any thing of the kind, but on that occasion: and I have understood, that, since 1811, black crabs There is a great variety of crabs in Jamaica, have been abundant farther into the interior of of which two only are eaten. The black is the island than they were ever known before. the finest, and has ever been esteemed one of│-Barclay's View of Slavery in the West Inthe greatest delicacies in the West Indies, not excepting even the turtle. These live in the mountain forests, on stony ground, and feed on the fallen dry leaves of the trees. The white crab, as it is called (although rather purple than white) used principally by the Negroes, but by the white people also, is larger, and more resembles in taste the lobster of this country. These are amphibious, and are found in the low lands, principally in the woods, where, as I have already said, they are caught at night with torches. But they are numerous also in the cultivated fields, and in some of the low lying estates frequently do considerable damage to the planters in dry weather, when vegetation is low, by nipping off the blade of the young canes and corn, as it shoots through the ground. In situations of this kind, the Negroes have a somewhat singular method of catching them: they know from the appear. ance of a crab hole if there be a crab in it, and dig down with a hoe through the soft loam, till they come to water (about eighteen inches or two feet,) and then close the hole firmly with a handful of dry grass. In this manner a Negro will shut up two or three dozen of holes in a morning. About four hours after, he returns, and his prisoners being by this time drunkened (half drowned,) they tumble out along with the plug of grass, and are caught.

In the year 1811, there was a very extraordinary production of black crabs in the eastern parts of Jamaica. In the month of June or July of that year, I forget which, the whole district of Manchioneal (where the great chain of the Blue Mountains, extending from west to east, through the centre of the island, terminates on the east coast,) was covered with countless millions of these creatures, swarming from the sea to the mountains. Of this singular phenomenon, I was myself an eye witness, having had occasion to travel through that

I.

STAND on a funeral mound,
Far, far from all that love thee;
With a barren heath around,

And a cypress bower above thee:
And think, while the sad wind frets,
And the night in cold gloom closes,
Of spring, and spring's sweet violets,
Of summer, and summer's roses.

II.

Sleep where the thunders fly
Across the tossing billow;
Thy canopy the sky,

And the lonely deck thy pillow:
And dream, while the chill sea-foam
In mockery dashes o'er thee,

Of the cheerful hearth, and the quiet home,
And the kiss of her that bore thee.

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Watch in the deepest cell

Of the foeman's dungeon tower,
Till hope's most cherished spell

Has lost its cheering power;
And sing, while the galling chain
On every stiff limb freezes,

Of the huntsman hurrying o'er the plain,
Of the breath of the mountain breezes.

IV.

Talk of the minstrel's lute,
The warrior's high endeavour,

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II.

Pure fell the beam, and meekly bright,

On his grey holy hair, And touch'd the book with tenderest light, As if its shrine were there: But oh that Patriarch's aspect shone With something lovelier farA radiance all the spirit's own,

Caught not from sun or star.

III.

Some word of life ev'n then had met
His calm benignant eye;
Some ancient promise, breathing yet
Of Immortality;

Some heart's deep language, where the glow
Of quenchless faith survives;
For every feature said-" I know
That my Redeemer lives."

IV.

And silent stood his children by,
Hushing their very breath
Before the solemn sanctity

Of thoughts o'ersweeping death: Silent-yet did not each young breast

With love and reverence melt? Oh! blest be those fair girls-and blest That home where God is felt!

FALLING LEAVES.

The leaves are falling from the poplar trees,
And through their skeleton branches I behold
Glimpses of clear blue daylight. Thus, me-
thinks

As one by one the joys of life decay,
Withered, or prematurely snapped, the eye
The opening vault of Immortality
Of age contemplates, with a clearer ken,
O'erarching Earth and Time.

Insects in a Mummy.-M. Figeac of Grenoble, while examining an Egyptian mummy, found amongst its fingers several dead coleopterous insects of a fine rose colour, in all its brilliancy. M. Jurine of Geneva ascertained that they belonged to a nondescript species of corynetes, (Fabricius,) which he is disposed to call C. Glaber. Circumstances indicate that the eggs of those insects were laid on the mummy during the embalming process, and subsequently became perfect insects. the envelope of the hands, where the insects Arabs, indeed, had opened the mummy; but

were found, was untouched.

The

North-West Passage proved by Whales.-— Whales which have been harpooned in the Greenland seas, have been found in the Pacific Ocean; and whales, with some lances sticking in their feet, (a kind of weapon used by no nation now known,) have been caught both in the sea of Spitzbergen and in Davis' Strait. The following is one of the authorities for this fact, which, of all other arguments yet offered in favour of a transpolar passage, seems to be the most satisfactory:

A Dutch East India captain, of the name of Jacob Cool, of Sardam, who had been several times at Greenland, and was, of well course, acquainted with the nature of the apparatus used in the whale fishery, was informed by the Fishal Zeeman, of India, that in the sea of Tartary, there was a whale taken, in the back of which was sticking a Dutch harpoon, marked with the letters W. B. This curious circumstance was communicated to Peter Jansz Vischer, probably a Greenland whaler, who discovered that the harpoon in question had belonged to William Bastiaanz, Admiral of the Dutch Greenland fleet, and had been struck into the whale in the Spitzbergen sea.-Beschryving der Walvisvangst, vol. ii. p. 38.

common

Structure of the Sponge.-If a sponge be carefully examined in a microscope, it will appear to be furnished with galleries and compartments, which rival, in intricacy and number, those of the celebrated labyrinths of Crete; the ramified entrances of a marine pavillion, gradually extending upwards, and sending forth branches in different directions, till they at length unite, and form a compound reticulation throughout the sponge. The extremities of the upper shoots are furnished with small openings at the ends of their fibres; and, as we trace these fibres downwards from the openings, a soft whitish substance may be discovered filling the internal hollow part of the ramifications throughout the whole sponge; which ramifications resemble catgut, are of an amber colour, and are undoubtedly the habitations of a particular kind of zoophytes. For, although we cannot distinguish either vesicles or cells, nor discover any other kind of organization than that of a variety of hollow tubes inflected and wrought together into a multitude of agreeable forms, some branching like corals, or expanding like a fungus, many rising like a column, others resembling a hollow inverted pyramid with irregular cavities, entrances, or apertures; yet, from many obvious resemblances to different other kinds of marine productions, as well as from the chemical analysis of sponges in general, we are amply justified in referring them to the class of animal productions.

Books and Journals received this week, and to which we are indebted for part of this number:

The Museum of Foreign Literature and Science-Edinburgh Philosophical JournalLiterary Souvenir-Amulet-Friendship's Offering Writings of Thomas Jefferson-Silliman's Journal-Newspapers.

THE RELIGIOUS MAGAZINE;

OR, Spirit of the Foreign Theological Journals and Reviews,

Is composed of the best articles in the Foreign Theolo gical Journals, Reviews and Magazines, and the quantity of matter is very great. The selections are carefully made, with a reference solely to the merit of the papers, and their tendency to advance the interests of pure evan gelical religion. No article which can afford grounds of offence to any orthodox Protestant denomination, will, at any time, be admitted. We will not attempt to make the publication subservient to the purposes of any parti cular denomination, but shall select from Presbyterian or Episcopal, Methodist or Baptist writers, according as their papers shall best answer the avowed purposes of the publication.

Having access to all the sources of literary information, we shall be able to give our readers an early ac account of every new work which will tend to practical improvement, or increase the stock of theological learning.

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No. 2.

PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, JANUARY 14,

THE LITERARY PORT FOLIO Is published every Thursday by E. Littell & Brother, and on this day it is punctually delivered to subscribers in Philadelphia and New York, and sent off by mail to subscribers in the country.

It contains eight printed pages in each number, and four handsome engravings every year. The price is Two Dollars and a Half a year, payable in advance.

It is intended that this journal shall contain such a variety of matter as may make it acceptable to ladies as well as to gentlemen; to the young as well as to the old. While we shall take care that nothing be admitted which would render the work unfit for any of these classes, we shall endeavour to procure for it sufficient ability to entitle it to the attention of all of them. To these ends we have secured an abundant supply of all foreign and domestic journals and new books-and we ask the assistance of all who are qualified to instruct or amuse the public. Upon this assistance we depend in a great degree for our hopes of success, for however the abundant stores to which we have access, may enable us to supply matter highly interesting to our readers, we think it of even more importance to give them something peculiarly adapted to the present time and circumstances; something from home.

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ishly, was admitted to the house of the envoy,
and trusting to his protection, said all that was
injurious and insulting of the shah's govern-

ment.

"Meerza Yakooh, an Armenian of Erivan, and eunuch, the steward of the whole of the king's harem, who had for many years enjoyed confidence and consideration, having taken with him jewels and cash to a large amount, went to the house of the envoy shortly after his arrival at Tehran. The shah relinquished to the envoy all claims to Meerza Yakoob, but directed that the property which he had carried off should be restored. The envoy replied that it was necessary to have the matter decided by law. The ministers consented to this; but Meerza Yakoob, confiding in the protection of the envoy, uttered abusive things of the law of the prophet and the faith of Islam, vilified the chiefs of the priesthood, rididuled the Persian government, and cursed the Persian people; so that the inhabitants of Tehran of all classes were irritated and unable to endure it. While matters were in this state, two women of the Armenians of Turkey were in the house of Allah Yar Khan (late Asufedhowleh); the spies of the envoy gave him information of this circumstance, and deceived him into the belief that these were two captives from Georgia and Karabaugh. The envoy in consequence demanded them; Allah Yar Khan replied that they were from Turkey,

Communications should be addressed to " E. Littell for
the Literary Port Folio,"-and subscriptions will be
thankfully received by E. Littell & Brother, corner of
Chestnut and Seventh streets, Philadelphia.
Subscriptions are also received by Thomas C. Clarke, and had no connexion with Russia; but the

S. W. corner of Chestnut and Seventh streets.

Agents who procure and forward payment for four subscribers, shall receive the fifth copy for one year; and so in proportion for a larger number.

Editors of newspapers who advertise the work will be entitled to receive one copy for a year, on forwarding payment for two new subscribers.

The publishers find on the list of the former volume, many newspapers marked for exchange; but as these papers cannot be used for the Port Folio, they hope that the offer of the work at half price will be considered equally advantageous to the country papers, and that they will be excused for now ceasing to send the Literary Port Folio to all who do not order it.

Payment in advance is expected from every subscriber.

PERSIA. THE LATE AFFRAY AT
TEHRAN.

THE following is published in the Bombay Courier of May 16, as an extract of a letter from Meerza Allee Shah to his Royal Highness Prince Abbas Meerza.

envoy would not believe this, and became
urgent and violent. The king ordered Allah
Yar Khan to send the women, with a man of
his own, to the envoy's house, that he might
question them, and ascertain from themselves
that they were not Russian captives. Allah
Yar Khan, according to his orders sent them;
but the envoy sent back the man and detained
the women.

"It is well known that, according to Persian custom, a woman cannot remain in the house of a stranger, and that her doing so is injurious to her reputation; moreover, on that night Meerza Yakoob had a drinking party, and the envoy's people had brought a prostitute from the town. The two women who were in the house, seeing these proceedings, began to complain, and the populace became agitated till inorning, when some persons went to get back the women, but they were not given up. First there was a quarrel between the persons who "My orders leaving me no alternative, I went for the women and the subah of the entake the liberty to represent that the Russian voy's guard. Then people collected on both envoy, from the day of his arrival in the capi- sides. The envoy's people attacked the others, tal, received from the king the greatest atten- and with guns and pistols shot some of the tion and consideration. The ministers of the town people; the relations of those who were state, too, were night and day engaged in seek-killed joined in the fray, and a general tumult ing occasions to do what was agreeable to him, and so to conduct themselves towards him that his time might pass most pleasantly, and that he might return from hence with all honour. Many things which occurred were, for his sake, passed over; for example, two Armenians of Tehran killed a Mahomedan, and sought refuge in the house of the envoy, who entreated for them. The king pardoned them, and satisfied the heir of the Mahomedan. an Armenian, named Rocstom, who had from his infancy been a slave in Persia, and was known to be a bad character, and some others "This much was effected, that the first selike him, having accompanied the envoy, were cretary with three other individuals were resemployed by him as guides and persons to cued in safety; all the other persons who were point out the way to him (by implication spies in the house were destroyed. Even the shah's and advisers): the conduct of these persons feroshes, who were stationed in the house, and became offensive and intolerable to the people; the subah of the guards who resisted the poputhey stirred up the envoy to resort to acts lace, several were killed; of the persons who which were calculated to produce a bad feel- accompanied me about thirty or forty were ing, and were at variance with the respect due wounded. I would that they had all been to the government. For instance, a kujer, of slain, could it have prevented such a catasthe royal branch of the tribe, who has an affec- trophe. I swear before God, by the salt of the tion of the head which makes him speak fool-king, that I would rather have died, I would

But

and commotion was excited. When informa-
tion of these proceedings was conveyed to the
king, his majesty despatched me and his royal
highness Imaum Wardee Meerza, the com-
mander of the guards, with 2,000 or 3,000 men
of the guards of the palace and the garrison of
the citadel of the subah of Key. We proceed-
ed with all possible expedition, punishing the
people and driving them before us: but before
we reached the house of the envoy all was
over, and all that should not have been done
was done.

1830.

rather have been put to death with all my children, than endure this shame. I know not what condition you will be in when this letter reaches you.

"His majesty commands me to state, that the revolutions of heaven have brought about this event; that we are here offering every apology to the secretary, and that you will do every thing in your power with the English envoy, and the Russian authorities at Tabreez; you will send a person to Tiflis to present the true state of the case. Although the whole Persian nation feel shame before the Russian government for this occurrence, still the innocence of our servants must be made known. Whatever atonement you may think due, will be readily made."

Extract from a Firman addressed by his Ma-
jesty the Shah to Prince Abbas Meerza.
"The bodies of those who were killed have
been buried with every mark of respect and
honour. The secretary and other survivors
have been treated with all kindness, and in
the meantime orders have been issued for the
punishment of the perpetrators of this deed,
and they shall be punished. We wait for ad-
vice from our son, in concert with Mr. Am-
baugher, to complete the atonement.

"In the course of two days the secretary, with Meerza Allikhan, our reply to the emperor's letter, with a statement of all events, shall be sent to General Paskevitch: they were present and saw the state of affairs. The secretary will best be able to give a truc account of the matter; and in the meantime we expect from our son advice regarding the measures to be adopted to remove this stain from our reputation."

ENGLISH ANNUALS.

1. Friendship's Offering: a Literary Album, and Christmas and New Year's Present, for 1830.

2. The Literary Souvenir; or, Cabinet of Poetry and Romance. Edited by Alaric A. Watts. 3. The Iris; a Literary and Religious Offering. Edited by the Rev. Thomas Dale, M.A. 4. The Winter's Wreath for 1830; a Collection of Original Contributions in Prose and Verse.

5. Forget-Me-Not; a Christmas, New Year's, and Birth-day Present for 1830.

6. The Amulet; a Christian and Literary Remembrancer. Edited by S. C. Hall.

7. The Juvenile Keepsake. Edited by Thomas Roscoe.

8. The Juvenile Forget-Me-Not; a Christmas and New Year's Gift, or Birth-day Present for the year 1830. Edited by Mrs. S. C. Hall.

9. Ackerman's Forget-Me-Not; a Christmas, New Year's, and Birth-day Present, for youth of both sexes, for 1830. Edited by Frederic Shoberl.

10. The New Year's Gift and Juvenile Souvenir. Edited by Mrs. Alaric Watts.

IT is an essential part of a critic's duty to point out the difference between what is clegant, and what is fantastic-between the efforts of a bad and tawdry taste, and the productions of a light, but pure and cultivated ingenuity-the difference, in short, between the despicable pretensions to produce a fashionable literature by modern novelists, and the elegant luxury of good taste exhibited in the beautiful little volumes before us. We cannot conceive of an objection to the universal circulation of these interesting works, but there are many, and those very solid, argumonts in its favour. It is one of the most difficult things in the world to pro

duce a popular love of the fine arts; to give it a right direction, and to feed it only with what is excellent, is still more difficult. We take it for granted, at present, that the humanising effects of such a passion, properly nourished, is admitted, and with this supposition, the Annuals present themselves before us as the best accomplished ministers of taste, and of the good feelings belonging to it, which the lighter class of modern literature has ever possessed. They fly through every quarter of the land, loaded with song and beauty. The fair inhabitant of the loneliest hamlet receives from them an idea of the power which can give form and multiplied existence to gentle thoughts and images; and the gay population of provincial towns are gradually taught that art has a diviner power than that exhibited either by their drawing masters or their milliners. It is next to impossible that any one should have looked at the engravings of these volumes, and endure any thing common or vulgar for the remainder of the year. The more they are circulated, therefore, the better. Correcter ideas will every day gain ground respecting what is worthy of admiration in the fine arts. The inhabitants of the provinces will have something to console them for the want of exhibitions and rare collections, and the daughtors of tradesmen and manufacturers, who visit neither London nor Italy, will not want the means of forming a good taste, the best and most valuable adornment, next to the moral ones, of woman. Let no one henceforth then be without these jewel-cabinets of art. They may inspire the austerest heart with thoughts that it will be luxury for it to feel at least once in a year, and for all that are young and hopeful of delight, or old and happy, or who would see pleasure and gentle feelings kept alive by the purest means, they are the Offerings, and Souvenirs, and Amulets which they may best give as tokens of their friendship, or keep as safeguards against all the evil spirits of inhumanity or moroseness.

shrinking consciences of Messrs. Watts, &c., exist beyond a doubt in the Annuals of the present year.

We do not say the above in the spirit of a carping criticism, but out of pure love for the beautiful and costly little works which they produce. Nor do we say it in the affectation of any contempt for the light and sparkling kind of literature which distinguishes them, for we have met with both prose and poetry in the Annuals, which it would be the most contemptible folly in the world to pretend to despise. They have become, in fact, the vehicle for a class of compositions which was otherwise sinking into unmerited neglect, and which we really could not spare from our general literature, without depriving it of one of the qualities which makes it fit to nourish minds of all characters, and give life and impulse to all the feelings which it is good for man's heart to cherish. We can no better spare the minor poetry, as it is called, of the day, than we can spare the brooks and rivulets which, without ever becoming rivers, delight us, by making the hills green, and the valleys and meadows fertile. There is nothing more likely to awaken kindly feelings, to sooth angry or rankling ones, than the voice of poetry,-of quiet and tranquillizing poetry-drawing its sweetness from the home-rest of the heart, and its pure, universal language, from the teachings of a spirit-a spirit of delight and love, that has found one vehicle for its revelations in poetry, and, if it could find a thousand others, would charm and subdue us to its power a thousand times more. We deprecate, therefore, any mixture of weak or indifferent verses in the matter of these elegant publications; but we should doubt of the good taste or reason of any one who regarded their general contents as not meriting considerable attention,-all the attention indeed, and that is not a slight one, which ought to be paid to a class of writing which, more than any other, feeds the mind with sentiment, and the heart with passion. It It is not in theory merely that these beauti is hardly necessary to say any thing regarding ful annual volumes deserve this praise, nor is the prose part of these works, as it partakes so it a matter of surprise that they eminently pos- closely of the same taste and tone of feeling as sess the qualities which obtain it. The imthe poetry. It may, perhaps, however, be mense sums which the proprietors expend upon worth remarking, that, in this respect, the acthe embellishments, place the spirited pub-complished editors have not exercised their lishers among the best patrons of modern art, and the editors have the good taste to second their liberality. Mr. Alaric Watts, and Mr. Hall, are both of them well known to possess the most cultivated judgment in the fine arts, and to employ a considerable part of their time in searching the most valuable collections. Much of the same ability is discernible among the other conductors of the Annuals, and they are thus rendered that which we have said them to be-admirable means for diffusing throughout the country a strong and chastened passion for whatever is most beautiful in human art.

What we have said in respect to the embellishments of the Annuals, will, in a great measure, apply to their literary contents, and would entirely so, if the taste of the editors had only to will and to possess, or, if they would no more let their good nature induce them to admit a page of bad poetry, than an indifferent engraving. We confess we do not know what explanation those gentlemen could give for the appearance of some of the pieces which serve to fill their volumes. Most of them have well earned the confidence of the public by productions of their own, which puts it beyond a doubt, that there is no film on their eyes in judging of poetry; and yet we find more than one piece in their collections which, we are sure, if they occupied our place, would meet with no very gentle treatment at their hands. When this fault is committed to make way for a great name, as it frequently is, and we fear must be, we will admit the plea of necessity or policy, but no such excuse can be made for the admission of verses which have neither merit nor a popular name to recommend them. And such, we appeal for the proof to the

judgments to the best. A hardier, bolder, and more vigorous kind of prose than that which composes the major part of their volumes, would not only contrast better with the delicacy, and an exquisite delicacy it is, of the poetry, but give room to a more earnest vein of thought, to a bolder and more elevated range through the bright, but mysterious world of humanity. We would have all the poetry only so many gushing streams of golden light, all murmuring of love, or a sweet and tender melancholy; but we would feel the breath of a lofty spirit in the prose. We would see the fair faces, that were beaming with smiles as we read one of the lovely little lays that abound in these volumes, assume an expression of deeper, more mind-entranced interest, when we come to the prose; we would have them look as if they felt that they were in the presence of beings that were bright, beautiful, and mighty in the strength of thought. We know that much patience and exertion are necessary, to give any thing like the merit to these publications which they possess in so high a degree, but we think it not impossible that their interest and value might be improved, by the prose part of their contents being thus of a somewhat severer cha

racter.

From the Bijou.

LONG ENGAGEMENTS. THE question as to the propriety of suffering young persons to enter into long engagements, and the doubt whether, if the lovers eventually marry, their lives will be equally happy

with those whose affections have not been subjected to so severe a probation, still remains doubtful even to those who ought to be the most competent to decide-parents and guardians.

There are certainly many instances where these trials have ended satisfactorily; but there are also numerous cases in which, when circumstances have permitted the parties to marry, the fulfilment of the engagement has been produced much more by the man's sense of honour, so that she, who consecrated the summer of her charms to him alone, should not be deserted in her autumn, than from the ardency of that pure and disinterested passion which gave birth to his attachment. Whoever has a child of an age to marry, ought to be wise enough to know, that the effect which a train of outward circumstances has on the formation of the character, is of more importance than the events themselves are. To have a girl forsaken, or unwillingly received, after she has devoted the brightest portion of her days to a faithless or a fickle-minded man, undoubtedly is trying; yet it is in the power of the woman, who possesses a sound judgment and a well regulated mind, so to act and think that she may be prepared for any change. Though the heroine of the following tale was not subjected to the bitterest of all human sufferings, that of witnessing

-changed affection's Cold averted eye,"

still, as she calculated upon the possibility of finding her hopes blasted, the mental discipline which she voluntarily underwent would, it is almost certain, have enabled her to bear her fate in a manner as honourable to herself as consoling to her parents; and deserves commemoration, as an example.

Several years ago, during a visit which I paid to a friend in the south-west of England, I became acquainted with a village called the Hatch. My Mary was then fifteen. In spite of my care she was growing thin and pale. I was a jest among my friends for my passion for making her robustly healthy, incited thereto by regard for public good as well as maternal fondness; being desirous of proving that an only child, and she, too, the daughter of a widow, is not necessarily doomed to be sickly and feeble.

The situation of the Hatch, which is such' that it cannot be easily got at in a carriage, did not frighten me. The freshness and purity of the air of the high downs, which stretch out for miles just above it, made me ample compensation for this disadvantage. Over the breezy top of these bare hills I resolved to let Mary scamper on her pony every day, in defiance of wind and of weather; unless the first were such as to blow her off her horse, or the latter to half' drown her.

On very windy days we were compelled to relinquish the soft carpet, and the wide views of the downs for the road which wound round their bases. A good sized, well built house, at a little distance from this road attracted our attention, or rather, I should say, that the profusion of gay flowers which grew about it did

So.

The contrast which this decorated spot offered to the close turf of the downs, and the rough graces of our present residence, caused it to make the greater impression upon Mary. She took so much delight in looking at the mass of brilliant hues collected in this garden, that I think she sometimes proposed our taking this road only for the sake of seeing them.

Once or twice we saw the children of the family amusing themselves in this garden, but more frequently heard their merry tongues, and caught glimpses of their agile forms in the back grounds, flitting across the door-way which was opposite to that in the front of the house. Independently of all personal considerations the sight of a happy and a healthy family is delightful; and private interest also had some little share in exciting the attention which, at that time I always bestowed upon it.

The most curious florist could hardly have been so anxious to inquire by what "mixture of earth's mould" the flowers of this garden had been made so vivid and luxuriant, as I was to ascertain by what management the firmness of muscle, smoothness, clearness, and freshness of skin, which indicate permanent health, were maintained or procured, when ever I observed them. The animated blossoms which I saw about this house exhibited, in a remarkable degree, the sprightliness, elasticity, and strength, which denote a well organized body in good condition. I was, therefore, disposed to form an acquaintance with the owners of the place, and this was easily done by means of the friends through whom I became a temporary inhabitant of that part of the country.

Mr. and Mrs. Long, the possessors of these bright flowers and blooming children, no sooner heard who the two ladies were whom they had observed" to stay their steeds" for the purpose of gazing on their brilliant borders, were, and at what place they might be found, than, with true country hospitality, they came to the Hatch, to offer us every attention in their power.

As I was most happy to procure for my dear girl a frequent participation of the gaiety enjoyed by the younger members of the house, and grateful for the innumerable kindnesses which we received from the elders, we soon became familiar with the inhabitants of LowLeet, as Mr. Long called his comfortable mansion. Mary and I were never better pleased than when our visits were spent in the garden: there she amused herself with the young group, while I paced up and down in grave discussion with the seniors.

One sultry evening we called there about sunset, and were ushered into the grounds at the back of the house. This was the spot more particularly appropriated to the children's sports, and the care of its flowers was committed to them chiefly. A belt of shrubs divided it from the fruit and kitchen gardens. In the centre of this belt was a reservoir, erected after a model of Mr. Long's own devising, who amused the ample leisure of his retirement by several similar contrivances. On this evening they had cooled the very air by their liberal distribution of its contents, and were bringing their sportive labour to a close when another visiter introduced himself, unannounced, into the garden. Laura stepped forward, and as she raised her eyes she perceived the person who had joined the party. She did not recollect having seen him before, but so much cordiality and affection were mingled with the pleasure with which he was looking at the domestic scene, that she felt instantly persuaded that he was entitled to be there. The stranger came forward the moment he was perceived, and Laura, renouncing her intention to run off in the contrary direction to call her mother, composed herself as quickly as she could, and went to meet him. He accounted for his intrusion by saying, he had heard that he should find his uncle and aunt, with their family in the garden. Throwing off instantly her timidity, and holding out her hand, while she cast back her head to catch a full view of his countenance, "O, I was sure that I ought to know you!" said Laura, "papa and mama will be both of them so glad! How came I not to guess it was you, cousin Lawrence? but we did not know that you were landed yet."

"Those who were older than you were when I left England, might well be excused for not immediately knowing me again,” answered he;" and if I had met you any where but here, I should not have known that I was privileged to greet you as my cousin-my cousin Laura, is it not? Yet I can hardly believe it." He examined her earnestly as he spoke, endeavouring to make out in the animated girl before him, the chubby child whom he remembered as his eldest cousin. Laura had now attained the height of a woman of the middle size. Her form was admirably

constructed, and the glow of her complexion
and the radiance of her eyes were calculated
to do any thing rather than suggest the idea
of a pale, unripened beauty of the north," to
the late sojourner among the black charmers
of the burning east. Lawrence looked on her
with a wondering delight which did not escape
my observation. This first impression was fol-
lowed by effects which are far from always
succeeding such beginnings. The cousins fell
in love after the good old way, that is, provided
the old way were the good one; at any rate
they did so in the best way, the gentleman's
lively, fervent admiration exciting the fair
lady's gratitude. The parents did not think of
the thing till it was done; and then they, the
father especially, took it patiently. But Law-
rence was obliged to return to India, and they
would not consent to an immediate marriage
on account of Laura's extreme youth, and her
lover's unsettled condition. The young peo-
ple were, however, permitted to pledge their
faith to one another; and were to marry as
soon after Laura had completed her seven-
teenth year as circumstances would permit.
The effects of this engagement upon Laura
are worth noting. She was at this time not
more than fifteen. While Lawrence was with
her she continued to enjoy herself as she had
done, without pausing to reflect on her new
emotions or their cause, or appearing to advert
to the time, so near at hand, when he must
leave her; and was still, in short, a happy,
thoughtless child; but a striking change ap-
peared when he was gone. To herself it
seemed as if a length of years had passed over
her since the evening when her cousin sur-
prised her in the grounds; while, to her neigh-
bours, the change in her appeared so sudden,
that it looked as if she had been struck by a
fairy's wand. Her brother and sisters were
her playfellows no longer; an immeasurable
space seemed now to divide her thoughts and
counsels from those of Emily, the girl next
her in age. All things around her lost, in a
great measure, their interest. Laura, indeed,
lived only for the absent: and as Lawrence
frequently besought her in his letters to guard
well the treasure of beauty and health which
he had left behind him, she desired to keep her
beauty uninjured. But Laura seemed not
only desirous to preserve herself for her lover,
but to do so, so sacredly for him alone, that
she begrudged a sight of her good looks to all
but their right owner; resembling the image
used by Solomon, “a fountain sealed up is my
sister, my spouse."

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fess it, very painful to me. I wish I could convey to you the whole of my feelings and my thoughts, as I read every line of your letter, but I am afraid that is not possible; and if I write some of them, without the rest, I shall do myself injustice. Interpret my words then kindly, dearest Laura; believe it, I am obliged to omit the assurances of much more admiration and delight than I express. Do not then be hurt, my own dear girl, when I confess how much I am, or rather was, shocked at the idea of the change which may take place in your appearance before I shall see you again, when it was first distinctly brought before me. I cannot but cling to the image of my dazzling love, my blooming healthful Hebe. Has that bright vision vanished from the earth? You speak of changing--and I see you changedunquestionably you are so. Such a letter as that which you have written to me could not have been penned by that only just no longer child, who ravished my eyes at my entrance to my uncle's. It is in vain to regret it. I would leave off fooling, and answer your letter, as it should be answered, rationally, truly. I say then, that I will not give you back your faith, unless my uncle formally requires me to do so solely for your advantage; and then I should most reluctantly release you; though I have learned from you to be aware that she who will hereafter honour me with her hand will not, in exterior attractions, be the same girl who pledged hers to me two long summers since. But why do I say in exterior qualities, you will, dear Laura, be more changed within; and start not when I add, so I would have it. You were perfect altogether, for your age, when last we met and parted:would time stand still, or run a backward course, in nothing sweetest, could I wish you altered; but girlish manners, with a wo man's face, were always my aversion. Never shall I thank you sufficiently, dear girl, for your care to preserve your precious charms for me unaltered. If fate had permitted me to call you mine, at the instant when first I desired it, I should have been less your debtor. Your loveliness would then, in some degree, have shone for the indifferent and the stranger, as well as blessed him who was its lawful ford. Without denying then, that your young beauty was of sovereign weight in making me so urgent with my uncle to bestow you on me, I assure you, on my honour, that knowing you now as I do, if at this instant we were disengaged, I would, with delight, renew the contract; and feel confident that, should I be Two years passed on, and Lawrence did not compelled to delay the fulfilment of my wishes return; nor could he even yet fix a term for for yet many years, my cousin Laura, such as returning. Laura's nicely hoarded beauty she then will be, will do more than merely was still unimpaired, even in her own jealous- not offend my taste-she will be still the obly scrutinizing eyes. But would it be possible ject of my choice, supposing me at liberty to much longer to preserve it? Laura much fear- choose. Besides being an elegant, superior, ed that it would not. Her attachment to Law-noble-minded woman, she will also be one rence had sensibly increased by her entire selfdedication to him; she felt it impossible to detach herself from him now; but, after being the object of his ardent love, to be only endured as a person he was bound to, was too insupportable a misery to be thought of. What was to be done? She must release her cousin. With the utmost sincerity she told him of her fears, and artlessly betrayed to him her devotion and her fondness, whilst she carnestly conjured him rather to give her up, than reluctantly to fulfil his engagement at the time of his return, if, when that came, he should find her appearance changed so as to disappoint him. The depth of her feelings made her let ter grave, convincing, and pathetic: Lawrence was considerably affected by it, and perceived that she was in earnest. It gave him some trouble to fashion his reply; but the next packet brought to her this answer :

"Would to Heaven, my sweet girl, I could see you, were it only for one hour, if indeed, there is danger of your changing. To think that I may never see you more, such as you were at that memorable time when you taught me how beautiful your sex can be, is, I con

who has taught herself to think so much of
me, to study my honour, my interest, my taste,
and to conform herself to it, will be enough to
make me desire her for the partner of my future
life, in preference, even, to such another glow-
ing Hebe as herself, if such another could be
found, when I first saw her in her pride of youth.
In this declaration I have studiously refrained
from carrying my professions to the height
to which, without exaggeration, I could let
them run. Let me beseech you then, my only
love, to dismiss for ever all your fears and
scruples, and look on yourself still as my own
property. Death only can part us, unless by
your desire. I will never release you.
(To be concluded)

A THOUGHT OF THE FUTURE.
BY FELICIA HEMANS.

DREAMER! and wouldst thou know
If Love goes with us to the viewless bourne ?
Wouldst thou bear hence th' unfathom'd source
of woe

In thy heart's lonely urn?

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