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diff --git a/10730-0.txt b/10730-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e45a05 --- /dev/null +++ b/10730-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1684 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10730 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 10730-h.htm or 10730-h.zip: + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/7/3/10730/10730-h/10730-h.htm) + or + (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/7/3/10730/10730-h.zip) + + + + +THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION. + +VOL. XII, No. 344.] SUPPLEMENTARY NUMBER. [PRICE 2d. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +EHRENBREITSTEIN ON RHINE. + + +[Illustration] + + Here Ehrenbreitstein, with her shattered wall, + Black with the miners' blast, upon her height, + Yet shows of what she was, when shell and ball + Rebounding idly on her strength, did light; + A tower of victory! from whence the flight + Of baffled foes was watched along the plain: + But peace destroyed what war could never blight, + And laid those proud roofs bare to summer's rain, + On which the iron shower for years had poured in vain. + + _Childe Harold._ + + +SPIRIT OF THE "ANNUALS." + + +We have the pleasure of presenting to the readers of the MIRROR, the +completion of our notices of these very elegant publications; and +in pursuance of the plan of our former Supplement, we are enabled +to assemble within the present sheet the characteristics of _eight +works_, whilst our quotations include _fourteen_ prose tales and +sketches, and poetical pieces, of great merit. + +The above engraving and its pendant are copied from the _Literary +Souvenir_, specially noticed in our last Supplement. The original +is a drawing by J.M.W. Turner, R.A. and the plate in the _Souvenir_ +is by J. Pye--both artists of high excellence in their respective +departments:-- + +The waters of the Rhine have long maintained their pre-eminence, +as forming one of the mightiest and loveliest among the highways +of Europe. + +But among all its united trophies of art and nature, there is not +one more brightly endowed with picturesque beauty, or romantic +association, than the fortress of Ehrenbreitstein. When the eye of +our own Childe Harold rested upon its "shattered wall," and when the +pencil of Turner immortalized its season of desolation, it had been +smitten in the pride of its strength by the iron glaive of war: and +its blackened fragments and stupendous ruins had their voice for the +heart of the moralist, as well as their charm for the inspired mind +of genius. But now that military art hath knit those granite ribs +anew,--now that the beautiful eminence rears once more its crested +head, like a sculptured Cybele, with a coronet of towers,--new +feelings, and an altered scale of admiration wait upon its glories. +Once more it uplifts its giant height beside the Rhine, repelling in +Titan majesty the ambition of France; once more, by its united gifts +of natural position and scientific aid, it appears prepared to +vindicate its noble appellation of "the broad stone of honour." + + * * * * * + + + +THE MUSICAL SOUVENIR. + + +This is an elegant little collection of seven songs, a trio, duet, and +glee, set to music, or "as they are appointed to be said or sung." As +we have not our musical types in order, we can only give our readers +a specimen of its literary merits. The first piece is Akenside's +beautiful Invocation to Cheerfulness; this is pleasingly contrasted +with a Song to the Forget-me-not, by Mrs. Opie. Then follow five +pieces from recent volumes of Friendship's Offering and the Amulet. +The three remaining compositions (expressly for the work) are a Song +by T. Bradford, Esq.; a Scotch Song, by Mr. Feist; and the following +pathetic Lines, by the Rev. Thomas Dale:-- + + Oft as the broad sun dips + Beneath the western sea, + A prayer is on my lips, + Dearest! a prayer for thee. + I know not where thou wand'rest now, + O'er ocean-wave, or mountain brow-- + I only know that He, + Who hears the suppliant's prayer, + Where'er thou art, on land or sea, + Alone can shield thee there. + + Oft as the bright dawn breaks + Behind the eastern hill, + Mine eye from slumber wakes, + My heart is with the still-- + For thee my latest vows were said, + For thee my earliest prayers are pray'd-- + And O! when storms shall lour + Above the swelling sea, + Be it thy shield, in danger's hour, + That I have pray'd for thee. + +Whether we consider the purity of its sentiments and the amiable +tone of feeling, or its merit as a musical work, we are induced to +recommend the present volume as an elegant present for a musical +friend, and it will doubtless become a favourite with thousands of +graceful pianists. Thanks to the Muses, our lyrical poetry is rapidly +rising in the literary scale, when such beautiful compositions as +those of Mrs. Hemans and Miss Landon are no sooner written than set +to music. + +The _Musical Souvenir_ is embellished with two engravings and a +presentation plate, and bound in crimson silk--so that it has all +the attractions of the annual Christmas presents, except _prose_. + + * * * * * + + + +THE KEEPSAKE. + +_EDITED BY F.M. REYNOLDS, ESQ._ + + +This is a magnificent affair, and is one of the proud triumphs of +the union of Painting, Engraving, and Literature--to which we took +occasion to allude in a recent number of THE MIRROR. Each department +is _unique_, and the lists are like the Morning Post account of a +drawing room, or Almack's--the princes of the arts, and the peers +of the pen. _Painters_--Lawrence, Howard, Corbould, Westall, +Turner, Landseer, Stephanoff, Chalon, Stothard, &c. _Engravers_--C. +Heath, Finden, Engleheart, Portbury, Wallis, Rolls, Goodyear, &c. +_Contributors_--Scott, Mackintosh, Moore, the Lords Normanby, +Morpeth, Porchester, Holland, Gower, and Nugent; Wordsworth, Southey, +Coleridge, Shelley, Hook, Lockhart, Croker, Mrs. Hemans, and Miss +Landon; and the cost of the whole _eleven thousand guineas!_ Of +course, such a book has not been the work of a day, month, or, +perhaps, a year; and its literature entitles it to a permanent place +in the library, where we hope to see it stand _auro perennius_; +were its fate to be otherwise, we should condemn the public--for we +hate ingratitude in every shape--and write in the first page the +epitaph--_For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot_. A guinea to +twopence--Hyperion to a Satyr--how can we extend the fame of _The +Keepsake!_ + +We cannot particularize the engravings; but they are all worthy +companions of the frontispiece--a lovely portrait of Mrs. Peel, +engraved by Heath, from Sir Thomas Lawrence's picture. In the literary +department--a very court of fiction--is, My Aunt Margaret's Mirror, a +tale of forty-four pages; and, The Tapestried Chamber, by Sir Walter +Scott; both much too long for extract, which would indeed be almost +unfair. Next comes an exquisite gem-- + + +ON LOVE. + +_BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY_. + + +What is Love? Ask him who lives what is life; ask him who adores what +is God. + +I know not the internal constitution of other men, nor even of thine +whom I now address. I see that in some external attributes they +resemble me, but when, misled by that appearance, I have thought to +appeal to something in common, and unburden my inmost soul to them, I +have found my language misunderstood, like one in a distant and savage +land. The more opportunities they have afforded me for experience, the +wider has appeared the interval between us, and to a greater distance +have the points of sympathy been withdrawn. With a spirit ill-fitted +to sustain such proof, trembling and feeble through its tenderness, +I have every where sought, and have found only repulse and +disappointment. + +_Thou_ demandest what is Love. It is that powerful attraction towards +all we conceive, or fear, or hope, beyond ourselves, when we find +within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek +to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience +within ourselves. If we reason we would be understood; if we imagine, +we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within +another's; if we feel, we would that another's nerves should vibrate +to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once, and +mix and melt into our own; that lips of motionless ice should not +reply to lips quivering and burning with the heart's best blood:--this +is Love. This is the bond and the sanction which connects not only +man with man, but with every thing which exists. We are born into the +world, and there is something within us, which, from the instant that +we live, more and more thirsts after its likeness. It is probably +in correspondence with this law that the infant drains milk from +the bosom of its mother; this propensity develops itself with the +development of our nature. We dimly see within our intellectual +nature, a miniature as it were of our entire self, yet deprived of +all that we condemn or despise, the ideal prototype of every thing +excellent and lovely that we are capable of conceiving as belonging +to the nature of man. Not only the portrait of our external being, +but an assemblage of the minutest particles of which our nature is +composed: a mirror whose surface reflects only the forms of purity and +brightness: a soul within our own soul that describes a circle around +its proper Paradise, which pain and sorrow and evil dare not overleap. +To this we eagerly refer all sensations, thirsting that they should +resemble and correspond with it. The discovery of its antitype; the +meeting with an understanding capable of clearly estimating our own; +an imagination which should enter into and seize upon the subtle +and delicate peculiarities which we have delighted to cherish and +unfold in secret, with a frame, whose nerves, like the chords of two +exquisite lyres, strung to the accompaniment of one delightful voice, +vibrate with the vibrations of our own; and a combination of all these +in such proportion as the type within demands: this is the invisible +and unattainable point to which Love tends; and to attain which, it +urges forth the powers of man to arrest the faintest shadow of that, +without the possession of which, there is no rest or respite to the +heart over which it rules. Hence in solitude, or that deserted state +when we are surrounded by human beings, and yet they sympathize not +with us; we love the flowers, the grass, the waters, and the sky. In +the motion of the very leaves of Spring, in the blue air, there is +then found a secret correspondence with our heart. There is eloquence +in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks and the +rustling of the reeds beside them, which, by their inconceivable +relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to dances of +breathless rapture, and bring tears of mysterious tenderness to the +eyes, like the enthusiasm of patriotic success, or the voice of one +beloved singing to you alone. Sterne says that if he were in a desert +he would love some cypress. So soon as this want or power is dead, man +becomes a living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the +mere husk of what once he was. + + * * * * * + +This and a fragment, with a character of Mr. Canning, by Sir James +Mackintosh, are the _transcendentals_ of the volume; as are the +tale--The Half-brothers, by Mr. Banim, with an Ossian-like plate of +the heroine; The Sisters of Albano, by Mrs. Shelley--Death of the +Laird's Jock, by the author of Waverley--and Ferdinando Eboli, by Mrs. +Shelley, with Adelinda, a plate, by Heath, on which we could feast our +eyes for a full hour. Next, a sketch, by Theodore Hook, part of which +will serve to vary our sheet:-- + + +THE OLD GENTLEMAN. + + +"To-morrow morning," said my friend, "when you awake, the power will +be your own; and so, sir, I wish you a very good night."--"But, sir," +said I, anxious to be better assured of the speedy fulfilment of the +wish of my heart, (for such indeed it was,) "may I have the honour of +knowing your name and address?"--"Ha, ha, ha!" said the old gentleman; +"_my_ name and address; ha, ha, ha! my name is pretty familiar to you, +young gentleman; and as for my address, I dare say you will find your +way to me some day or another, and so, once more, good night."--Saying +which, he descended the stairs and quitted the house, leaving me to +surmise who my extraordinary visiter could be. I never _knew_; but +I recollect, that after he was gone, I heard one of the old ladies +scolding a servant-girl for wasting so many matches in lighting the +candles, and making such a terrible smell of brimstone in the house. +I was now all anxiety to get to bed, not because I was sleepy, but +because it seemed to me as if going to bed would bring me nearer to +the time of getting up, when I should be master of the miraculous +power which had been promised me. I rang the bell; my servant was +still out; it was unusual for him to be absent at so late an hour. I +waited until the clock struck eleven, but he came not; and resolving +to reprimand him in the morning, I retired to rest. Contrary to my +expectation, and, as it seemed to me, to the ordinary course of +nature, considering the excitement under which I was labouring, I had +scarcely laid my head on my pillow before I dropped into a profound +slumber, from which I was only aroused by my servant's entrance to my +room. The instant I awoke, I sat up in bed, and began to reflect on +what had passed, and for a moment to doubt whether it had not been all +a dream. However, it was daylight; the period had arrived when the +proof of my newly acquired power might be made.--"Barton," said I to +my man, "why were you not at home last night?"--"I had to wait, sir, +nearly three hours," he replied, "for an answer to the letter which +you sent to Major Sheringham."--"That is not true," said I; and, to my +infinite surprise, I appeared to _recollect_ a series of occurrences, +of which I never had previously heard, and could have known nothing: +"you went to see your sweetheart, Betsy Collyer, at Camberwell, and +took her to a tea-garden, and gave her cakes and cider, and saw +her home again: you mean to do exactly the same thing on Sunday, +and to-morrow you mean to ask me for your quarter's wages, although +not due till Monday, in order to buy her a new shawl."--The man +stood aghast: it was all true. I was quite as much surprised as the +man.--"Sir," said Barton, who had served me for seven years without +having once been found fault with, "I see you think me unworthy your +confidence; you could not have known this, if you had not watched, and +followed, and overheard me and my sweetheart; my character will get +me through the world without being looked after. I can stay with you +no longer; you will please, sir, to provide yourself with another +servant."--"But Barton," said I, "I did not follow or watch you; +I--"--"I beg your pardon, sir," he replied; "it is not for _me_ +to contradict; but you'll forgive me, sir, I would rather go; I +_must_ go." + +At this moment I was on the very point of easing his mind, and +retaining my faithful servant by a disclosure of my power; but it was +yet too new to be parted with; so I affected an anger I did not feel, +and told him he might go where he pleased. I had, however, ascertained +that the old gentleman had not deceived me in his promises; and, +elated with the possession of my extraordinary faculty, I hurried the +operation of dressing, and before I had concluded it, my ardent friend +Sheringham was announced; he was waiting in the breakfast-room. At +the same moment, a note from the lovely Fanny Haywood was delivered +to me--from the divine girl who, in the midst of all my scientific +abstraction, could "chain my worldly feelings for a moment." +"Sheringham, my dear fellow," said I, as I advanced to welcome him, +"what makes you so early a visiter this morning?"--"An anxiety," +replied Sheringham, "to tell you that my uncle, whose interest I +endeavoured to procure for you, in regard to the appointment for which +you expressed a desire, has been compelled to recommend a relation of +the marquess; this gives me real pain, but I thought it would be best +to put you out of suspense as soon as possible."--"Major Sheringham," +said I, drawing myself up coldly, "if this matter concerns you so +deeply as you seem to imply that it does, might I ask why you so +readily agreed to your uncle's proposition or chimed in with his +suggestion, to bestow the appointment on this relation of the +marquess, in order that _you_ might, in return for it, obtain the +promotion for which you are so anxious?"--"My dear fellow," said +Sheringham, evidently confused, "I--I--never chimed in; my uncle +certainly pointed out the possibility to which you allude, but +_that_ was merely contingent upon what he could not refuse to +do."--"Sheringham," said I, "your uncle has already secured for you +the promotion, and you will be gazetted for the lieutenant-colonelcy +of your regiment on Tuesday. I am not to be told that you called at +the Horse-guards, in your way to your uncle's yesterday, to ascertain +the correctness of the report of the vacancy which you had received +from your friend Macgregor; or that _you_, elated by the prospect +before you, were the person, in fact, to suggest the arrangement +which has been made, and promise your uncle 'to smooth me over' for +the present."--"Sir," said Sheringham, "where you picked up this +intelligence I know not; but I must say, that such mistrust, after +years of undivided intimacy, is not becoming, or consistent with the +character which I hitherto supposed you to possess. When by sinister +means the man we look upon as a friend descends to be a spy upon our +actions, confidence is at an end, and the sooner our intercourse +ceases, the better. Without some such conduct, how could you become +possessed of the details upon which you have grounded your opinion +of my conduct?"--"I--," and here again was a temptation to confess +and fall; but I had not the courage to do it. "Suffice it, Major +Sheringham, to say, I knew it; and, moreover, I know, that when you +leave me, your present irritation will prompt you to go to your uncle +and check the disposition he feels at this moment to serve me."--"This +is too much, sir," said Sheringham; "this must be our last interview, +unless indeed your unguarded conduct towards me, and your intemperate +language concerning me, may render one more meeting necessary; and so, +sir, here ends our acquaintance."--Saying which, Sheringham, whose +friendship even to my enlightened eye was nearly as sincere as any +other man's, quitted my room, fully convinced of my meanness and +unworthiness; my heart sank within me when I heard the door close +upon him for the last time. I now possessed the power I had so long +desired, and in less than an hour had lost a valued friend and a +faithful servant. Nevertheless, Barton _had_ told me a falsehood, and +Sheringham _was_ gazetted on the Tuesday night. + + * * * * * + +I went into the Water-colour Exhibition at Charing-cross; there I +heard two artists complimenting each other, while their hearts were +bursting with mutual envy. There, too, I found a mild, modest-looking +lady, listening to the bewitching nothings of her husband's particular +friend; and I knew, as I saw her frown and abruptly turn away from him +with every appearance of real indignation, that she had at that very +moment mentally resolved to elope with him the following night. In +Harding's shop I found authors congregated "to laugh the sultry hours +away," each watching to catch his neighbour's weak point, and make +it subject matter of mirth in his evening's conversation. I saw a +viscount help his father out of his carriage with every mark of duty +and veneration, and knew that he was actually languishing for the +earldom and estates of the venerable parent of whose health he was +apparently taking so much care. At Howell and James's I saw more than +I could tell, if I had ten times the space afforded me that I have; +and I concluded my tour by dropping in at the National Gallery, +where the ladies and gentlemen seemed to prefer nature to art, and +were actively employed in looking at the pictures, and thinking of +themselves. Oh! it was a strange time then, when every man's heart was +open to me, and I could sit, and see, and hear, all that was going +on, and know the workings of the inmost feelings of my associates; +however, I must not detain the reader with reflections. + + * * * * * + +Clorinda, or the Necklace of Pearl, is an intensely interesting tale +by Lord Normanby, with a most effective illustration by Heath. + +But the prose of the "Keepsake" is decidedly superior to the _poetry_, +notwithstanding the high names in the latter list. Mr. Moore's +contribution is, however, only sixteen lines. The poetical pieces +consist chiefly of fragments or "scraps"--among which those on Italy, +by Lord Morpeth; and three by Shelley, are very beautiful. Our +specimen is-- + + +THE VICTIM BRIDE. + +_BY W.H. HARRISON._ + + I saw her in her summer bow'r, and oh! upon my sight + Methought there never beam'd a form more beautiful and bright! + So young, so fair, she seem'd as one of those aerial things + That live but in the poet's high and wild imaginings; + Or like those forms we meet in dreams from which we wake, and weep + That earth has no creation like the figments of our sleep. + + Her parent--loved not he his child above all earthly things! + As traders love the merchandize from which their profit springs: + Old age came by, with tott'ring step, and, for the sordid gold + With which the dotard urged his suit, the maiden's peace was sold + And thus (for oh! her sire's stern heart was steel'd against her + pray'r) + The hand he ne'er had gain'd from love, he won from her despair. + + I saw them through the churchyard pass, but such a nuptial train + I would not for the wealth of worlds should greet my sight again. + The bridemaids, each as beautiful as Eve in Eden's bow'rs, + Shed bitter tears upon the path they should have strewn with flow'rs. + Who had not deem'd that white rob'd band the funeral array, + Of one an early doom had call'd from life's gay scene away! + + The priest beheld the bridal group before the altar stand, + And sigh'd as he drew forth his book with slow reluctant hand: + He saw the bride's flow'r-wreathed hair, and mark'd her streaming + eyes, + And deem'd it less a Christian rite than a Pagan sacrifice; + And when he call'd on Abraham's God to bless the wedded pair, + It seem'd a very mockery to breathe so vain a pray'r. + + I saw the palsied bridegroom too, in youth's gay ensigns drest; + A shroud were fitter garment far for him than bridal vest; + I mark'd him when the ring was claim'd, 'twas hard to loose his hold, + He held it with a miser's clutch--it was his darling gold. + His shrivell'd hand was wet with tears she pour'd, alas! in vain, + And it trembled like an autumn leaf beneath the beating rain. + + I've seen her since that fatal morn--her golden fetters rest + As e'en the weight of incubus, upon her aching breast. + And when the victor, Death, shall come to deal the welcome blow, + He will not find one rose to swell the wreath that decks his brow: + For oh! her cheek is blanch'd by grief which time may not assuage,-- + Thus early Beauty sheds her bloom on the wintry breast of Age. + +Our commendation of the "Keepsake" might be extended much further, +were we to consult our inclination to do justice to its high +character. With so lavish an expenditure and such an array of talent +as we have shown it to contain, to wonder at its success, + + Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. + +We congratulate the proprietors on their prospects of remuneration, +for the attractions of their publication are irresistible. It is +altogether a splendid enterprise, and we doubt not the reward will be +more than proportionate to the expectation it has raised--both in the +proprietors and their patrons--the public. + + * * * * * + + + +THE ANNIVERSARY, + +_EDITED BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM._ + + +Perhaps we are getting too panegyrical, for panegyric savours of the +poppy; but we must not flinch from our duty. + +_Allan Cunningham_--there is poetry in the name, written or sung--and +high-wrought poetry too, in nearly every production to which that +name is attached--and among these "The Anniversary for 1829." All the +departments of this work too, (as in the "Keepsake") are unique. Mr. +Sharpe, the proprietor, is a man of refined taste, his Editor and his +contributors are men of first-rate genius, the Painters and Engravers +are of the first rank, and the volume is printed at Mr. Whittingham's +Chiswick-press. Excellence must always be the result of such a +combination of talent, and so it proves in the _Anniversary_. As +might have been expected from the talent of its editor, the volume +is superior in its poetical attractions--both in number and quality. + +By way of variety, we begin with the _poetry_. First is a stirring +little ballad, the Warrior, by the editor; then, a humorous epistle +from Robert Southey, Esq. to Allan Cunningham, in which the laureat +deals forth his ire on the "misresemblances and villanous visages" +which have been published as his portrait.[1] Next is a gem of +another water, Edderline's Dream, by Professor Wilson, the supposed +editor of "Blackwood's Magazine." This is throughout a very beautiful +composition, but we must content ourselves with the following +extract:-- + + +EDDERLINE'S SLEEP. + + Castle-Oban is lost in the darkness of night, + For the moon is swept from the starless heaven, + And the latest line of lowering light + That lingered on the stormy even, + A dim-seen line, half cloud, half wave, + Hath sunk into the weltering grave. + Castle-Oban is dark without and within, + And downwards to the fearful din, + Where Ocean with his thunder shocks + Stuns the green foundation rocks, + Through the green abyss that mocks his eye, + Oft hath the eerie watchman sent + A shuddering look, a shivering sigh, + From the edge of the howling battlement! + + Therein is a lonesome room, + Undisturbed as some old tomb + That, built within a forest glen, + Far from feet of living men, + And sheltered by its black pine-trees + From sound of rivers, lochs, and seas, + Flings back its arched gateway tall, + At times to some great funeral! + Noiseless as a central cell + In the bosom of a mountain + Where the fairy people dwell, + By the cold and sunless fountain! + Breathless as a holy shrine, + When the voice of psalms is shed! + And there upon her stately bed, + While her raven locks recline + O'er an arm more pure than snow, + Motionless beneath her head,-- + And through her large fair eyelids shine + Shadowy dreams that come and go, + By too deep bliss disquieted,-- + There sleeps in love and beauty's glow, + The high-born Lady Edderline. + + Lo! the lamp's wan fitful light, + Glide,--gliding round the golden rim! + Restored to life, now glancing bright, + Now just expiring, faint and dim! + Like a spirit loath to die, + Contending with its destiny. + All dark! a momentary veil + Is o'er the sleeper! now a pale + Uncertain beauty glimmers faint, + And now the calm face of the saint + With every feature re-appears, + Celestial in unconscious tears! + Another gleam! how sweet the while, + Those pictured faces on the wall, + Through the midnight silence smile! + Shades of fair ones, in the aisle + Vaulted the castle cliffs below, + To nothing mouldered, one and all, + Ages long ago! + + From her pillow, as if driven + By an unseen demon's hand + Disturbing the repose of heaven, + Hath fallen her head! The long black hair + From the fillet's silken band + In dishevelled masses riven, + Is streaming downwards to the floor. + Is the last convulsion o'er? + And will that length of glorious tresses, + So laden with the soul's distresses. + By those fair hands in morning light, + Above those eyelids opening bright, + Be braided nevermore! + No, the lady is not dead, + Though flung thus wildly o'er her bed; + Like a wretched corse upon the shore, + That lies until the morning brings + Searchings, and shrieks, and sorrowings; + Or, haply, to all eyes unknown, + Is borne away without a groan, + On a chance plank, 'mid joyful cries + Of birds that pierce the sunny skies + With seaward dash, or in calm bands + Parading o'er the silvery sands, + Or mid the lovely flush of shells, + Pausing to burnish crest or wing. + No fading footmark see that tells + Of that poor unremembered thing! + + O dreadful is the world of dreams, + When all that world a chaos seems + Of thoughts so fixed before! + When heaven's own face is tinged with blood! + And friends cross o'er our solitude, + Now friends of our's no more! + Or dearer to our hearts than ever. + Keep stretching forth, with vain endeavour, + Their pale and palsied hands, + To clasp us phantoms, as we go + Along the void like drifting snow. + To far-off nameless lands! + Yet all the while we know not why, + Nor where those dismal regions lie, + Half hoping that a curse to so deep + And wild can only be in sleep, + And that some overpowering scream + Will break the fetters of the dream, + And let us back to waking life, + Filled though it be with care and strife; + Since there at least the wretch can know + The meanings on the face of woe, + Assured that no mock shower is shed + Of tears upon the real dead, + Or that his bliss, indeed, is bliss, + When bending o'er the death-like cheek + Of one who scarcely seems alive, + At every cold but breathing kiss. + He hears a saving angel speak-- + 'Thy love will yet revive!' + + [1] An artist of celebrity is now engaged on a portrait of Mr. + Southey, _cum privilegio_, we suppose, Mr. Southey is not the only + public man, whose lineaments have been traduced by engravers. + Only look at some of the patriotic gentlemen who figure at public + meetings, and in _outline_ on cards, &c. But Houbraken is now + known to have been no more honest than his successors in portrait + engraving: although physiognomy and craniology ought to help the + moderns out in these matters. + +Then comes A Farewell to the year, one of Mr. Lockhart's elegant +translations from the Spanish; a pretty portrait of rustic +simplicity--the Little Gleaner, by the editor; and some playful +lines by M.A. Shee, accompanying an engraving from his own picture +of the Lost Ear-Rings. The Wedding Wake, by George Darley, Esq. is +an exquisite picture of saddened beauty. The Ettrick Shepherd has +the Carle of Invertine--a powerful composition, and the Cameronian +Preacher, a prose tale, of equal effect. In addition to the +pieces already mentioned, by the editor, is one of extraordinary +excellence--the Magic Bridle: his Lines to a Boy plucking +Blackberries, are a very pleasing picture of innocence:-- + + There stay in joy, + Pluck, pluck, and eat thou happy boy; + Sad fate abides thee. Thou mayst grow + A man: for God may deem it so, + I wish thee no such harm, sweet child: + Go, whilst thou'rt innocent and mild: + Go, ere earth's passions, fierce and proud, + Rend thee as lightning rend the cloud: + Go, go, life's day is in the dawn: + Go, wait not, wish not to be man. + +One of his pieces we quote entire:-- + + +THE SEA KING'S DEATH-SONG. + + I'll launch my gallant bark no more, + Nor smile to see how gay + Its pennon dances, as we bound + Along the watery way; + The wave I walk on's mine--the god + I worship is the breeze; + My rudder is my magic rod + Of rule, on isles and seas: + Blow, blow, ye winds, for lordly France, + Or shores of swarthy Spain: + Blow where ye list, of earth I'm lord, + When monarch of the main. + + When last upon the surge I rode, + A strong wind on me shot, + And tossed me as I toss my plume, + In battle fierce and hot. + Three days and nights no sun I saw, + Nor gentle star nor moon; + Three feet of foam dash'd o'er my decks, + I sang to see it--soon + The wind fell mute, forth shone the sun, + Broad dimpling smiled the brine; + I leap'd on Ireland's shore, and made + Half of her riches mine. + + The wild hawk wets her yellow foot + In blood of serf and king: + Deep bites the brand, sharp smites the axe, + And helm and cuirass ring; + The foam flies from the charger's flanks, + Like wreaths of winter's snow; + Spears shiver, and the bright shafts start + In thousands from the bow-- + Strike up, strike up, my minstrels all + Use tongue and tuneful chord-- + Be mute!--My music is the clang + Of cleaving axe and sword. + + Cursed be the Norseman who puts trust + In mortar and in stone; + Who rears a wall, or builds a tower, + Or makes on earth his throne; + My monarch throne's the willing wave, + That bears me on the beach; + My sepulchre's the deep sea surge, + Where lead shall never reach; + My death-song is the howling wind, + That bends my quivering mast,-- + Bid England's maidens join the song, + I there made orphans last. + + Mourn, all ye hawks of heaven, for me + Oft, oft, by frith and flood, + I called ye forth to feast on kings; + Who now shall give ye food? + Mourn, too, thou deep-devouring sea, + For of earth's proudest lords + We served thee oft a sumptuous feast + With our sharp shining swords; + Mourn, midnight, mourn, no more thou'lt hear + Armed thousands shout my name. + Nor see me rushing, red wet shod, + Through cities doomed to flame. + + My race is run, my flight is flown; + And, like the eagle free, + That soars into the cloud and dies, + I leave my life on sea. + To man I yield not spear nor sword + Ne'er harmed me in their ire, + Vain on me Europe shower'd her shafts, + And Asia pour'd her fire. + Nor wound nor scar my body bears, + My lip made never moan, + And Odin bold, who gave me life, + Now comes and takes his own. + + Light! light there! let me get one look,-- + Yon is the golden sky, + With all its glorious lights, and there + My subject sea flows by; + Around me all my comrades stand, + Who oft have trod with me + On prince's necks, a joy that's flown, + And never more may be. + Now put my helmet on my head, + My bright sword in my hand, + That I may die as I have lived. + In arms and high command. + +In the prose department the most striking is the description of +Abbotsford, quoted in our 339th number. There is an affecting Tale of +the Times of the Martyrs, by the Rev. Edward Irving, which will repay +the reader's curiosity. The Honeycomb and Bitter Gourd is a pleasing +little story; and Paddy Kelleger and his Pig, is a fine bit of humour, +in Mr. Croker's best style. The brief Memoir of the late Sir George +Beaumont is a just tribute to the memory of that liberal patron of the +Fine Arts, and is an opportune introduction into such a work as the +present. The letter of Lord Byron, too, from Genoa in 1823, will be +interesting to the noble poet's admirers. + +Among the illustrations we can only notice the Lute, by C. Rolls, +after Bonnington; Morning, by E. Goodall, from Linton's "joyful" +picture; Sir W. Scott in his Study (qy. the forehead); a little +"Monkeyana," by Landseer; Chillon, by Wallis, from a drawing by +Clarkson Stanfield--a sublime picture; Fonthill, an exquisite scene +from one of Turner's drawings; Beatrice, from a picture by Howard; the +Lake View of Newstead, after Danby; the Snuff-Box, from Stephanoff; +and last, though not least, Gainsborough's charming Young Cottagers, +transferred to steel, by J.H. Robinson--perhaps the most attractive +print in the whole series. + +With this hasty notice we conclude, in the language of our +announcement of the present work, "wishing the publisher _many +Anniversaries_" + + * * * * * + + + +FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING. + +_EDITED BY THOMAS PRINGLE, ESQ._ + + +The present volume will support, if not increase, the literary +reputation which this elegant work has enjoyed during previous years. +The editor, Mr. Pringle, is a poet of no mean celebrity, and, as we +are prepared to show, his contribution, independent of his editorial +judgment, will do much toward the Friendship's Offering maintaining +its ground among the Annuals for 1829. + +There are twelve engravings and a presentation plate. Among the most +beautiful of these are Cupid and Psyche, painted by J. Wood, and +engraved by Finden; Campbell Castle, by E. Goodall, after G. Arnald; +the Parting, from Haydon's picture now exhibiting with his Mock +Election, "Chairing;" Hours of Innocence, from Landseer; La Frescura, +by Le Petit, from a painting by Bone; and the Cove of Muscat, a +spirited engraving by Jeavons, from the painting of Witherington. +All these are of first-rate excellence; but another remains to be +mentioned--Glen-Lynden, painted and engraved by _Martin_, a fit +accompaniment for Mr. Pringle's very polished poem. + +The first _prose_ story is the Election, by Miss Mitford, with the +hero a downright John Bull who reads Cobbett. The next which most +attracts our attention is Contradiction, by the author of an Essay on +Housekeepers--but the present is not so Shandean as the last-mentioned +paper; it has, however, many good points, and want of room alone +prevents our transferring it. Then comes the Covenanters, a Scottish +traditionary tale of _fixing_ interest; the Publican's Dream, by Mr. +Banim, told also in the Winter's Wreath, and Gem: + + _Thrice_ the brindled cat hath mewed; + +and Zalim Khan, a beautiful Peruvian tale of thirty pages, by Mr. +Fraser. The French story, La Fiancée de Marques, is a novelty for an +annual, but in good taste. Tropical Sun-sets, by Dr. Philip, is just +to our mind and measure:-- + +A setting sun between the tropics is certainly one of the finest +objects in nature. + +From the 23rd degree north to the 27th degree south latitude, I used +to stand upon the deck of the Westmoreland an hour every evening, +gazing with admiration upon a scene which no effort either of the +pencil or the pen can describe, so as to convey any adequate idea of +it to the mind of one who has never been in the neighbourhood of the +equator. I merely attempt to give you a hasty and imperfect outline. + +The splendour of the scene generally commenced about twenty minutes +before sun-set, when the feathery, fantastic, and regularly +crystallized clouds in the higher regions of the atmosphere, became +fully illumined by the sun's rays; and the fine mackerel-shaped +clouds, common in these regions, were seen hanging in the concave of +heaven like fleeces of burnished gold. When the sun approached the +verge of the horizon, he was frequently seen encircled by a halo of +splendour, which continued increasing till it covered a large space of +the heavens: it then began apparently to shoot out from the body of +the sun, in refulgent pencils, or radii, each as large as a rainbow, +exhibiting, according to the rarity or density of the atmosphere, a +display of brilliant or delicate tints, and of ever changing lights +and shades of the most amazing beauty and variety. About twenty +minutes after sun-set these splendid shooting rays disappeared, +and were succeeded by a fine, rich glow in the heavens, in which +you might easily fancy that you saw land rising out of the ocean, +stretching itself before you and on every side in the most enchanting +perspective, and having the glowing lustre of a bar of iron when newly +withdrawn from the forge. On this brilliant ground the dense clouds +which lay nearest the bottom of the horizon, presenting their dark +sides to you, exhibited to the imagination all the gorgeous and +picturesque appearances of arches, obelisks, mouldering towers, +magnificent gardens, cities, forests, mountains, and every fantastic +configuration of living creatures, and of imaginary beings; while the +finely stratified clouds a little higher in the atmosphere, might +really be imagined so many glorious islands of the blessed, swimming +in an ocean of light. + +The beauty and grandeur of the sunsets, thus imperfectly described, +surpass inconceivably any thing of a similar description which I have +ever witnessed, even amidst the most rich and romantic scenery of our +British lakes and mountains. + +Were I to attempt to account for the exquisite enjoyment on beholding +the setting sun between the tropics, I should perhaps say, that +it arose from the warmth, the repose, the richness, the novelty, +the glory of the whole, filling the mind with the most exalted, +tranquillizing, and beautiful images. + + * * * * * + +There is likewise a tale, Going to Sea, and the Ship's Crew, by Mrs. +Bowdich, which equally merits commendation. + +Powerful as may be the aid which the editor has received from the +_contributors_ to the "Friendship's Offering," we are bound +to distinguish one of his own pieces--_Glen-Lynden, a Tale of +Teviot-dale_, as the sun of the volume. It is in Spenserian verse, and +a more graceful composition cannot be found in either of the Annuals. +It is too long for entire extract, but we will attempt to string +together a few of its beauties. The scenery of the Glen is thus +described:-- + + A rustic home in Lynden's pastoral dell + With modest pride a verdant hillock crown'd: + Where the bold stream, like dragon from the fell, + Came glittering forth, and, gently gliding round + The broom-clad skirts of that fair spot of ground, + Danced down the vale, in wanton mazes bending; + Till finding, where it reached the meadow's bound, + Romantic Teviot on his bright course wending. + It joined the sounding streams--with his blue waters blending. + + Behind a lofty wood along the steep + Fenced from the chill north-east this quiet glen: + And green hills, gaily sprinkled o'er with sheep, + Spread to the south; while by the brightening pen, + Rose the blithe sound of flocks and hounds and men, + At summer dawn, and gloaming; or the voice + Of children nutting in the hazelly den, + Sweet mingling with the winds' and waters' noise, + Attuned the softened heart with Nature to rejoice. + + Upon the upland height a mouldering Tower, + By time and outrage marked with many a scar, + Told of past days of feudal pomp and power + When its proud chieftains ruled the dales afar. + But that was long gone by: and waste and war, + And civil strife more ruthless still than they, + Had quenched the lustre of Glen-Lynden's star, + Which glimmered now, with dim reclining ray, + O'er this secluded spot,--sole remnant of their sway. + +Lynden's lord, and possessor of this tower, is now "a grave, mild, +husbandman," and his wife-- + + She he loved in youth and loved alone, + Was his. + + * * * * * + + And now his pleasant home and pastoral farm + Are all the world to him: he feels no sting + Of restless passions; but, with grateful arm, + Clasps the twin cherubs round his neck that cling, + Breathing their innocent thoughts like violets in the spring. + + Another prattler, too, lisps on his knee, + The orphan daughter of a hapless pair, + Who, voyaging upon the Indian sea, + Met the fierce typhon-blast--and perished there: + But she was left the rustic home to share + Of those who her young mother's friends had been: + An old affection thus enhanced the care + With which those faithful guardians loved to screen + This sweet forsaken flower, in their wild arbours green. + + * * * * * + + But dark calamity comes aye too soon-- + And why anticipate its evil day? + Ah, rather let us now in lovely June + O'erlook these happy children at their play: + Lo, where they gambol through the garden gay, + Or round the hoary hawthorn dance and sing, + Or, 'neath yon moss-grown cliff, grotesque and grey + Sit plaiting flowery wreaths in social ring, + And telling wondrous tales of the green Elfin King. + + * * * * * + + Ah! evil days have fallen upon the land; + A storm that brooded long has burst at last; + And friends, like forest trees that closely stand + With roots and branches interwoven fast, + May aid awhile each other in the blast; + But as when giant pines at length give way + The groves below must share the ruin vast, + So men who seemed aloof from Fortune's sway + Fall crushed beneath the shock of loftier than they. + + Even so it fared. And dark round Lynden grew + Misfortune's troubles; and foreboding fears, + That rose like distant shadows nearer drew + O'ercasting the calm evening of his years; + Yet still amidst the gloom fair hope appears, + A rainbow in the cloud. And, for a space, + Till the horizon closes round of clears, + Returns our tale the enchanted path to trace + Where youth's fond visions rise with fair but fleeting grace. + Far up the dale, where Lynden's ruined towers + O'erlooked the valley from the old oak wood, + A lake blue gleaming from deep forest bowers, + Spread its fair mirror to the landscape rude: + Oft by the margin of that quiet flood, + And through the groves and hoary ruins round, + Young Arthur loved to roam in lonely mood; + Or here, amid tradition's haunted ground, + Long silent hours to lie in mystic musings drowned. + + * * * * * + + Here Arthur loved to roam--a dreaming boy-- + Erewhile romantic reveries to frame, + Or read adventurous tales with thrilling joy. + Till his young breast throbbed high with thirst of fame; + But with fair manhood's dawn a softer flame + 'Gan mingle with his martial musings high; + And trembling wishes--which he feared to name, + Yet oft betrayed in many a half-drawn sigh-- + Told that the hidden shaft deep in his heart did lie. + + And there were eyes that from long silken lashes + With stolen glance could spy his secret pain-- + Sweet hazel eyes, whose dewy light out-flashes + Like joyous day-spring after summer rain; + And she, the enchantress, loved the youth again + With maiden's first affection, fond and true, + --Ah! youthful love is like the tranquil main, + Heaving 'neath smiling skies its bosom blue-- + Beautiful as a spirit--calm, but fearful too! + +Our limits compel us to break off once more, which is a source of +regret, especially when our path is strewn with such gems as these:-- + + A gentle star lights up their solitude + And lends fair hues to all created things; + And dreams alone of beings pure and good + Hover around their hearts with angel wings-- + Hearts, like sweet fountains sealed, where silent rapture springs. + +Here is a beautiful apostrophe-- + + Oh Nature! by impassioned hearts alone + Thy genuine charms are felt. The vulgar mind + Sees but the shadow of a power unknown; + Thy loftier beauties beam not to the blind + And sensual throng, to grovelling hopes resigned: + But they whom high and holy thoughts inspire + Adore thee, in celestial glory shrined + In that diviner fane where Love's pure fire + Burns bright, and Genius tunes his loud immortal Lyre! + +The halcyon days at length draw to a close, and sorrows "in +battalions" compel them to emigrate and bid + + Farewell to the scenes they ne'er shall visit more. + +The remainder is rather abrupt, at least much more so than the lovers +of fervid poetry could wish, especially as the termination is with the +following exquisite ballad:-- + + Our native land, our native vale, + A long and last adieu! + Farewell to bonny Lynden-dale, + And Cheviot mountains blue. + + Farewell, ye hills of glorious deeds, + And streams renowned in song: + Farewell, ye blithsome braes and meads + Our hearts have loved so long. + + Farewell, ye broomy elfin knowes, + Where thyme and harebells grow; + Farewell, ye hoary haunted howes, + O'erhung with birk and sloe. + + The battle-mound, the border-tower, + That Scotia's annals tell: + Thy martyr's grave, the lover's bower-- + To each--to all--farewell! + + Home of our hearts! our father's home! + Land of the brave and free! + The keel is flashing through the foam + That bears us far from thee. + + We seek a wild and distant shore + Beyond the Atlantic main: + We leave thee to return no more, + Nor view thy cliffs again. + + But may dishonour blight our fame, + And quench our household fires, + When we or ours forget thy name, + Green island of our sires. + + Our native land--our native vale-- + A long, a last adieu! + Farewell to bonny Lynden-dale, + And Scotland's mountains blue! + +We have only space to add that the poetical pieces are very numerous, +and those by Allan Cunningham, the Ettrick Shepherd, Delta, and +William Kennedy, merit especial notice. + +The elegant embossed binding is similar to that of last year, which +we mentioned to our readers, and which we think an improvement on the +silken array. + + * * * * * + + + +THE BIJOU. + + +Though last in the field, (for it is scarcely published) the _Bijou_ +will doubtless occupy a different place in public favour. Its +embellishments are selected with much judgment, and in literary +merit, it equals either of its contemporaries. Its second title is +an Annual of Literature and the _Fine Arts_, and from the choice of +its illustrations, deservedly so. Thus, among the painters, who have +furnished subjects for the engravers, we have Holbein, Claude, and +Primaticcio; and two from Sir Thomas Lawrence. The engraving from +Holbein, Sir Thomas More and his Family,--is a novelty in an Annual, +and is beautifully executed by Ensom. It has all the quaintness of the +great master, whose pictures may be called the _mosaic_ of painting. +The Autumnal Evening, engraved by Dean, after Claude, is not so +successful; although it should be considered that little space is +allowed for the exquisite effect of the original: still the execution +might have been better. The Frontispiece, Lady Wallscourt, after Sir +Thomas Lawrence is in part, a first-rate engraving; Young Lambton, +after the same master, is of superior merit. The face is beautifully +copied; and, by way of hint to the _scrappers_, this print will form +a companion to the Mountain Daisy, from the _Amulet_ for the present +year. There are, too, some consecrated landscapes, dear to every +classical tourist, and of, no common interest at home--as Clisson, +the retreat of Heloise; Mont Blanc; and the Cascade of Tivoli--all of +which are delightfully picturesque. The view of Mont Blanc is well +managed. + +In the _prose_ compositions we notice some of intense interest, among +which are the Stranger Patron and the Castle of Reinspadte--both of +German origin. There is too, a faithful historiette of the Battle of +Trafalgar, which, with the History of the Family of Sir Thomas More, +will be read with peculiar attention. Our extracts from the poetical +department are by Mrs. Hemans and Miss Landon. + + +THE SLEEPERS. + + Oh! lightly, lightly tread! + A holy thing is sleep. + On the worn spirit shed, + And eyes that wake to weep: + + A holy thing from heaven, + A gracious dewy cloud, + A covering mantle, given + The weary to enshroud. + + Oh! lightly, lightly tread! + Revere the pale still brow, + The meekly drooping head, + The long hair's willowy flow! + + Ye know not what ye do, + That call the slumberer back, + From the world unseen by you, + Unto Life's dim faded track. + + Her soul is far away, + In her childhood's land perchance, + Where her young sisters play, + Where shines her mother's glance. + + Some old sweet native sound + Her spirit haply weaves; + A harmony profound + Of woods with all their leaves: + + A murmur of the sea, + A laughing tone of streams:-- + Long may her sojourn be + In the music-land of dreams! + + Each voice of love is there, + Each gleam of beauty fled. + Each lost one still more fair-- + Oh! lightly, lightly tread! + +Miss Landon has contributed more to the "Bijou" than to any other +Annual, and a piece from her distinguished pen will increase the value +and variety of our columns. + + +THE FEAST OF LIFE. + + I bid thee to my mystic Feast, + Each one thou lovest is gathered there; + Yet put thou on a mourning robe, + And bind the cypress in thy hair. + + The hall is vast, and cold, and drear; + The board with faded flowers is spread: + Shadows of beauty flit around, + But beauty from each bloom has fled; + + And music echoes from the walls, + But music with a dirge-like sound; + And pale and silent are the guests, + And every eye is on the ground. + + Here, take this cup, tho' dark it seem, + And drink to human hopes and fears; + 'Tis from their native element + The cup is filled--it is of tears. + + What! turnest thou with averted brow? + Thou scornest this poor feast of mine; + And askest for a purple robe, + Light words, glad smiles, and sunny wine. + + In vain, the veil has left thine eyes, + Or such these would have seemed to thee; + Before thee is the Feast of Life, + But life in its reality! + +We should not, however, pass over in silence a poem, of the antique +school, entitled the Holy Vengeance for the Martyrdom of George +Wishart, the merits of which are of a high order. Indeed, this piece, +and the admirable composition of the History of Sir Thomas More and +his Family, with the Holbein print, distinguish the Bijou from all +other publications of its class, and are characteristic of the good +taste of Mr. Pickering, the proprietor. Altogether, the Bijou for 1829 +is very superior to the last volume, and, to our taste, it is one of +the most attractive of the Christmas presents. + + * * * * * + + + +THE WINTER'S WREATH. + + +This is a _provincial_, but not a first appearance in London; the +present being the fourth "_Wreath_" that has been entwined for the +lovers of song and sentiment. It is culled from Liverpool, (next to +our own metropolis) the most literary city in the empire; but many of +its flowers have been gathered from our metropolitan parterre. Thus, +in addition to the respected names of Roscoe, Currie, and Shepherd, +(of Liverpool), we have among the contributors those of Hemans, +Bowring, Howitt, Opie, with Mitford, Montgomery, and Wiffen. The +editorship has passed into different hands, and "the introduction of +religious topics has been carefully avoided" as unsuited to a work of +elegant amusement. + +The plates are twelve in number, among which are _Lady Blanche and +her Merlin_, after Northcote (rather too hard in the features); an +exquisite _View of the Thames near Windsor_, after Havell; _Medora +and the Corsair_, after Howard; the _Sailor Boy_, by Lizars; and a +beautiful _Wreath_ Title-page, after Vandyke. All these will bear +comparison with any engravings in similar works. + +The Wreath contains 132 pieces or flowers, some of them +_perennials_--others of great, but less lasting beauty--and but few +that will fade in a day. Among those entitled to special distinction, +in the _prose_ department, are an Italian Story, of considerable +interest; the Corsair, a pleasing sketch; and Lough Neagh, a tale +of the north of Ireland. One of the _perennials_ is a Journey up the +Mississippi, by Audubon, the American naturalist. Kester Hobson, +a legendary tale of the Yorkshire Wolds, which turns upon a lucky +dream, will probably set thousands dreaming--and we hope with the same +good effect--viz. half-a-bushel of gold. "A Vision," by the late Dr. +Currie, is a successful piece of writing; Le Contretems is a pleasant +tale enough, with a sprinkling of French dialogue. Next is a well-told +historiette of the eventful times of the Civil Wars.--The Memoir of a +young Sculptor can scarcely fail to awaken the sympathy of the reader. +The introduction of the paper on Popular Education, in what the editor +himself calls "a work of elegant amusement like the present," is +somewhat objectionable, and the writer's sentiments will be very +unpalatable to a certain party. The Ridley Coach is a sketch in the +style of Miss Mitford, who has contributed only one article, and +that in verse. Mrs. Opie has a slight piece--The Old Trees and New +Houses--but our prose selection is, (somewhat abridged)-- + + +THE LADY ANNE CARR, + +_BY THE AUTHOR OF "MAY YOU LIKE IT."_ + + +Have you not sometimes seen, upon the bosom of dark, stagnant waters, +a pure, white water-lily lift up its head, breathing there a fresh and +delicate fragrance, and deriving its existence thence--yet partaking +in nothing of the loathsome nature of the pool, nor ever sullied by +its close contact with the foul element beneath? + +It is an honest simile to say that the gentle Anne Carr resembled +that sweet water-lily. Sprung from the guilty loves of the favourite +Somerset and his beautiful but infamous wife, she was herself pure and +untainted by the dark and criminal dispositions of her parents. Not +even a suspicion of their real character had ever crossed her mind; +she knew that they had met with some reverse of fortune,--for she +had heard her father regret, for her sake, his altered estate. She +knew this, but nothing more: her father's enemies, who would gladly +have added to his wretchedness, by making his child look upon him +with horror, could not find in their hearts, when they gazed on her +innocent face, to make one so unoffending wretched. It is a lovely +blindness in a child to have no discernment of a parent's faultiness; +and so it happened that the Lady Anne saw nothing in her father's mien +or manner, betokening a sinful, worthless character. + +Of her mother she had but few and faint recollections. Memory pictured +her pale and drooping, nay gradually sinking under the cureless malady +which brought her to her grave at last. She remembered, however, +the soft and beautiful smiles which had beamed over that haggard +countenance, when it was turned upon her only child--smiles which she +delighted to recognise in the lovely portrait, from which her idea of +her mother was chiefly formed. This portrait adorned her own favourite +apartment. It had been painted when the original was as young and +happy as herself; and her filial love and fond imagination believed no +grace had been wanting to make all as beautiful and glorious within. + +As the Lady Anne grew up to womanhood, the sweetness of her +disposition and manners began to be acknowledged by those, who had +seen without astonishment her extraordinary beauty; and many persons +of distinction, who would hold no kind of fellowship with the Lord +Somerset, sought the acquaintance of his innocent daughter for her +own sake. + +The most beloved friend of the Lady Anne was the Lady Ellinor G----, +the eldest daughter of the Earl of G----: and with her, Lady Anne +often passed several months in the year. A large party of young ladies +were assembled at G---- Castle; and it happened that a continual +rain had confined the fair companions within doors the whole summer +afternoon. They sat together over their embroidery and various kinds +of needlework, telling old tales of fearful interest--the strange +mishaps of benighted travellers--stories of witchcraft, and of +mysterious murder. + +The conversation turned at last to the legends belonging to a certain +family; and one circumstance was mentioned so nearly resembling, in +many particulars, the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, that the Lady +Ellinor, scarcely doubting that some slight suspicion of her parents' +crimes had reached the ears of the Lady Anne, determined to change +the subject at once. She proposed to her fair friends that they +should ramble together through the apartments of the castle; and she +called for the old housekeeper, who had lived in the family from her +childhood, to go along with them, and asked her to describe to them +the person and manners of Queen Elizabeth, when she had visited at the +castle, and slept in the state apartment; always since called, The +Queen's Bedchamber. + +Led by their talkative guide, the careless, laughing party wandered +from one chamber to another, listening to her anecdotes, and the +descriptions she gave of persons and things in former days. She had +known many of the originals of the stately portraits in the picture +gallery; and she could tell the names, and the exploits of those +warriors in the family, whose coats of mail and glittering weapons +adorned the armoury. "And now," said the Lady Ellinor, "what else is +there to be seen? Not that I mean to trouble you any longer with our +questions, good Margaret, but give me this key, this key so seldom +used," pointing to a large, strangely shaped key, that hung among a +bunch at the old housekeeper's side. "There!" she added, disengaging +it herself from the ring, "I have taken it, and will return it very +safely. I assure you. This key," she said, turning to her young +companions, "unlocks a gallery at the end of the eastern wing, which +is always locked up, because the room is full of curious and rare +treasures, that were brought by my father's brother from many foreign +lands." + +They enter.--"This may be a charming place," said one of the youngest +and liveliest of the party, "but see, the rain has passed away, and +the sun has at last burst out from the clouds. How brightly he shines, +even through these dull and dusty windows!" She gave but a passing +glance to the treasures around her, and hastened to a half open door +at the end of the gallery. Some of her companions followed her to a +broad landing place, at the top of a flight of marble stairs. They +were absent but a few minutes, and they returned with smiles of +delight, and glad, eager voices, declaring that they had unbolted a +door at the bottom of the staircase, and found themselves in the most +beautiful part of the gardens. "Come!" said the young and sprightly +girl, "do not loiter here; leave these rare and beautiful things until +it rains again, and come forth at once with me into the sweet, fresh +air." + +The Lady Ellinor and her friend the Lady Anne were sitting side by +side, at the same table, and looking over the same volume--a folio of +Norman chronicles, embellished with many quaint and coloured pictures. +They both lifted up their faces from the book, as their merry +companions again addressed them. "Nay, do not _look_ up, but rise up!" +said the laughing maiden, and drawing away the volume from before +them, she shut it up instantly, and laid it on another table; throwing +down a branch of jessamine in its place. + +"Yes, yes, you are right, my merry Barbara," replied the Lady Ellinor, +and she rose up as she spoke, "we have been prisoners all the day +against our will, why should we now be confined when the smile of +Nature bids us forth to share her joy. Come, come! my sweet Anne, +_you_ are not wont to be the last," turning to her friend, who +lingered behind. "Oh!" cried Lady Anne, "I am coming, I will soon be +the first amongst you, I only wait a moment to bind up my troublesome +hair." As she spoke, her eyes rested upon a little volume, which lay +upon the broad sill of the casement. The wind fluttered in the pages, +and blew them over and over; and half curiously, half carelessly, +she looked again, and yet again. The word _murder_ caught her eye; +her feelings were still in a state of excitement from the tales and +legends to which she had just been listening. Resting her head upon +her hand, she leaned over the volume; and stood motionless, absorbed +by the interest of the tale which she read, forgetful of her young +companions--of all but the appalling story then before her. + +But these feelings were soon lost in astonishment, and horror so +confounding, that for awhile she lost all power of moving, or even of +thinking. Still her eyes were fixed upon the words which had pierced +her heart:--she could not force them away. Again and again, struck +with shame and horror, she shrunk away;--again and again, she found +herself forced by doubt, by positive disbelief, to search the terrible +pages. At last she had read enough--quite, quite enough to be assured, +not that her father--her mother, had been _suspected_, but that by the +law of the land they had been convicted, and condemned to death as +foul, adulterous murderers;--the murderers of Sir Thomas Overbury! + +The Lady Ellinor returned alone into the gallery, "You little truant!" +she cried, "why so long? you said you would soon be with the foremost. +I thought you must have escaped me, and have sought you through half +the garden, and you are here all the while!" + +No voice replied: not a sound was heard; and the Lady Ellinor had +already returned to the door of the gallery to seek her friend +elsewhere, when something fell heavily to the ground. + +She flew back; and in one of the receding windows, she found the Lady +Anne lying senseless in a deep swoon. Throwing herself on the ground +beside her, she raised her tenderly in her arms, and not without some +difficulty, restored her to herself. Then laying her head upon her +bosom, she whispered kind words. "You are ill, I fear, my own Anne, +who has been here? What have you seen? How so changed in this short +time? I left you well and smiling, and now--nay, my dear, dear friend, +do not turn from me, and look so utterly wretched. Do not you see me! +What can be the matter!" The Lady Anne looked up in her friend's face +with so piteous and desolate a look, that she began to fear her reason +was affected. + +"Have I lost your confidence? Am I no longer loved?" said the Lady +Ellinor. "Can you sit heart-broken there, and will not allow me to +comfort you? Still no answer! Shall I go? Shall I leave you, my love? +Do you wish me absent?" continued she in a trembling voice, the tears +flowing over her face, as she rose up. Her motion to depart aroused +the Lady Anne. "Ellinor! my Ellinor!" she cried, and throwing herself +forward, she stretched forth her arms. In another moment she was +weeping on the bosom of her friend. She wept for a long time without +restraint, for the Lady Ellinor said nothing, but drew her nearer and +nearer to her bosom, and tenderly pressed the hand that was clasped in +hers. + +"I ought not to be weeping here," at length she said, "I ought to let +you leave me, but I have not the courage, I cannot bear to lose your +friendship,--your affection, my Ellinor! Can you love me? Have you +loved me, knowing all the while, as every one must? To-day--this very +hour, since you left me, I learned:--no I cannot tell you! Look on +that page, Ellinor, you will see why you find me thus. I am the most +wretched, wretched creature!"--here again she burst into an agony of +uncontrollable grief. + + * * * * * + +Who can describe the feelings of the Lady Anne--alone, in her chamber, +looking up at the portrait of her mother, upon which she had so often +gazed with delight and reverence! "Is it possible?" said she to +herself, "can this be she, of whom I have read such dreadful things? +Have all my young and happy days been but a dream, from which I wake +at last? Is not this dreadful certainty still as a hideous dream to +me?" + +She had another cause of bitter grief. She loved the young and +noble-minded Lord Russell, the Earl of Bedford's eldest son; and she +had heard him vow affection and faithfulness to her. She now perceived +at once the reasons why the Earl of Bedford had objected to their +marriage: she almost wondered within herself that the Lord Russel +should have chosen her; and though she loved him more for avowing his +attachment, though her heart pleaded warmly for him, she determined to +renounce his plighted love. "It must be done," she said, "and better +now;--delay will but bring weakness. _Now_ I can write--I feel that I +have strength." And the Lady Anne wrote, and folded with a trembling +hand the letter which should give up her life's happiness; and fearing +her resolution might not hold, she despatched it by a messenger, as +the Lord Russel was then in the neighbourhood; and returned mournfully +to her own chamber. She opened an old volume which lay upon her +toilette--a volume to which she turned in time of trouble, to seek +that peace which the world cannot give. + +Lady Ellinor soon aroused her by the tidings that a messenger had +arrived with a letter from her father, and she descended in search +of him. + +"Oh, why is this? why am I here?" exclaimed the Lady Anne, as +trembling and almost sinking to the ground--her face alternately pale +and covered with crimson blushes, she found herself alone with the +Lord Russell. "You have received my letter, might not this trial have +been spared? my cup was already sufficiently bitter--but I had drunk +it. No!" she continued gently withdrawing her hand which he had taken, +"Do not make me despise myself--the voice of duty separates us. +Farewell! I seek a messenger from my father." "I am the messenger you +seek," replied he, "I have seen the Lord Somerset, and bring this +letter to his daughter." + +The letter from the Earl of Somerset informed his daughter that he had +seen the Earl of Bedford, and had obviated all obstacle to her union +with the Lord Russell; that he was going himself to travel in foreign +parts; and that he wished her to be married during a visit to the Earl +and Countess of Bedford, whose invitation he had accepted for her. + +"Does not your father say, that in this marriage his happiness is at +stake?" said the Lord Russell, gently pressing her hand. The Lady Anne +hung down her head, and wept in silence. "Are you still silent, my +dearest?" continued he, "then will I summon another advocate to plead +for me." + +He quitted the apartment for a moment, but soon returned with the +Countess of Bedford, who had accompanied him to claim her future +daughter-in-law. The Lady Anne had made many resolutions, but they +yielded before the sweet and eloquent entreaties that urged her to +do what, in fact, she was all too willing to consent to. + +They were married, the Lord Russell and the Lady Anne Carr; and they +lived long and happily together. It was always thought that the Lord +Russell had loved not only well, but wisely; for the Lady Anne was +ever a faithful wife, and a loving, tender mother. It was not until +some years after her marriage, that the Lady Russell discovered how +the consent of the earl of Bedford had been obtained. Till then, +she knew not that this consent had been withheld, until the Earl +of Somerset should give his daughter a large sum as her marriage +portion:--the Earl of Bedford calculating upon the difficulty, nay +almost impossibility, of his ever raising this sum. + +But he had not calculated upon the devotion of the wretched father's +love to his fair and innocent child: and he was astounded when his +terms were complied with, and the money paid at once into his hands. +He could no longer withhold his consent; nor could he refuse some +admiration of this proof of a father's love for his child. The Lord +Somerset had, in fact, sold his whole possessions, and reduced himself +to an estate not far removed from beggary, to give his daughter the +husband of her choice. + +It was the Lady Anne Carr, of whom Vandyke painted an exquisite and +well-known portrait, when Countess of Bedford. She was the mother of +William Lord Russell; and died heart-broken in her old age, when she +heard of the execution of her noble and first-born son. + +This is, perhaps, one of Mr. Tayler's most successful pieces; it has +more breadth (if we may use such a term) than he is wont to employ, +the absence of which from his writing, we have more than once had +occasion to regret. + + * * * * * + + + +TIME'S TELESCOPE. + + +Our old friend Time has this year illustrated his march, or +object-glass, with a host of _images_ or _spectra_--that is, woodcuts +of head and tail pieces--to suit all tastes--from the mouldering +cloister of other days to the last balloon ascent. The Notices of +Saints' Days and Holidays, Chronology and Biography, Astronomical and +Naturalist's Notices, are edited with more than usual industry; and +the poetry, original and selected, is for the most part very pleasing. + +As we have a running account with Time's Telescope, (who has not?) and +occasionally illustrate our pages with extracts during the year, we +content ourselves for the present with a quotation from an original +article, by "a correspondent from Alveston," possessing much good +feeling and a tone of reflection, to us very pleasing:-- + + +THE INFLUENCE OF A FLOWER. + + +Towards the close of a most lovely spring day--and such a lovely one, +to my fancy, has never beamed from the heavens since--I carelessly +plucked a cowslip from a copse side, and gave it to _Constance_. 'Twas +on that beautiful evening when she told me all her heart! as, seated +on a mossy bank, she dissected, with downcast eyes, every part of the +flower; chives, pointal, and petal, all were displayed; though I am +sure she never even thought of the class. My destiny through life I +considered as fixed from that hour.--Shortly afterwards I was called, +by the death of a relative, to a distant part of England; upon +my return, _Constance_ was no more. The army was not my original +destination; but my mind began to be enfeebled by hourly musing upon +one subject alone, without cessation or available termination; yet +reason enough remained to convince me, that, without change and +excitement, it would degenerate into fatuity. + +The preparation and voyage to India, new companions, and ever-changing +scenes, hushed my feelings, and produced a calm that might be called +a state of blessedness--a condition in which the ignoble and inferior +ingredients of our nature were subdued by the divinity of mind. Years +rolled on in almost constant service; nor do I remember many of the +events of that time, even with interest or regret. In one advance of +the army to which I was attached, we had some skirmishing with the +irregulars of our foe; the pursuit was rapid, and I fell behind my +detachment, wounded and weary, in ascending a ghaut, resting in the +jungle, with languid eyes fixed on the ground, without any particular +feeling but that of fatigue, and the smarting of my shoulder. +A _cowslip_ caught my sight! my blood rushed to my heart--and, +shuddering, I started on my feet, felt no fatigue, knew of no wound, +and joined my party. I had not seen this flower for ten years! but it +probably saved my life--an European officer, wounded and alone, might +have tempted the avarice of some of the numerous and savage followers +of an Indian army. In the cooler and calmer hours of reflection since, +I have often thought that this appearance was a mere phantom, an +illusion--the offspring of weakness: I saw it but for a moment, and +too imperfectly to be assured of reality; and whatever I believed at +the time seems now to have been a painting on the mind rather than an +object of vision; but how that image started up. I conjecture not--the +effect was immediate and preservative. This flower was again seen +in Spain: I had the command of an advance party, and in one of the +recesses of the Pyrenees, of the romantic, beautiful Pyrenees, upon a +secluded bank, surrounded by a shrubbery so lovely as to be noticed by +many--was a _cowslip_. It was now nearly twenty years since I had seen +it in Mysore: I did not start; but a cold and melancholy chill came +over me; yet I might possibly have gazed long on this humble little +flower, and recalled many dormant thoughts, had not a sense of duty +(for we momentarily expected an attack) summoned my attentions to the +realities of life: so, drawing the back of my hand across my eyes, I +cheered my party with, "Forward, lads," and pursued my route, and saw +it no more, until England and all her flowery meadows met my view; +but many days and service had wasted life, and worn the fine edge of +sensibility away; they were now before me in endless profusion, almost +unheeded, and without excitement; I viewed not the cowslip, when +fifty, as I had done with the eyes of nineteen. + + * * * * * + + + +THE CHRISTMAS BOX. + + +This is the happiest _title_ in the whole list of annuals. There +is nothing sentimental or lachrymose in it; but it is warm and +seasonable, and done up in a holly-green binding, it is all over +old Christmas. + +The first story in the volume is Old Christmas; one of the gems or +sweets is Garry Owen, or the Snow-Woman, by Miss Edgeworth, for it +abounds with good sentiment, just such as we should wish in the hearts +and mouths of our own children, as a spice for their prattle. + +We pass over _L'Egotiste Corrigée_, par Madame de Labourt--pretty +enough--and the Ambitious Primrose, by Miss Dagley. Then a Song, by +Miss Mitford; and a Story of Old Times, by Mrs. Hofland; and the +Tragical History of Major Brown, a capital piece of fun; and Pretty +Bobby, one of Miss Mitford's delightful sketches. The Visit to +the Zoological Gardens is not just what we expected; still it is +attractive. Major Beamish has accommodated military tactics to the +nursery in a pleasant little sketch; and the proverb of Much Coin Much +Care, by Mrs. R.S. Jameson is a little farce for the same stage. + +But the Cuts--the pictures--of which it would have been more +_juvenile_ to have spoken first. These are from the pencil of our +"right trustye" friend and excellent artist, Mr. W.H. Brooke, whose +horses, coaches, and dogs excite so much mirth among the young friends +of the MIRROR--for, in truth, Mr. Brooke is an A.M.--an _associate_ +of the MIRROR, and enables us to jump from Whitehall to Constantine's +Arch at Rome, shake _hands_ with the Bears of the Zoological Society, +and Peg in the Ring at Abury. + +The _Christmas Box cuts_ are all fun and frolic--the tail-piece of the +preface, a bricklayer on a ladder, "spilling" a hod of bricks--the +Lord of Misrule, with his polichinel army--the Boar's Head--a little +squat Cook and a steaming Plum-Pudding--the Bee and Honeysuckle--Major +Brown with a Munchausen face--the Bear Pit, Monkeys' Houses, and +Horned Owl, in the Zoological Gardens--and the Parliament of Animals, +with the Elephant as Chancellor, the Tortoise for "the table," and +Monkeys for Counsel--the groups of Toy Soldiers--and the head pieces +of the Cobbler and his Wife--all excellent. Then the Cricket and +Friar, and a pair of Dancing Crickets--worth all the fairy figures +of the Smirkes, and a hundred others into the bargain. These are the +little quips of the pencil that curl up our eye-lashes and dimple +our faces more than all the Vatican gallery. They are trifles--aye, +"trifles light as air"--but their influence convinces us that trifling +is part of the great business of life. + +Now we are trifling our readers' time; so to recommend the _Christmas +Box_ for 1829, as one of the prettiest presents, and as much better +suited to children than was its predecessor--and--pass we off. + + * * * * * + +Here our motley-minded sheet finishes, and we leave our readers in +possession of its sweet fancies. Its little compartments of poetry and +prose remind us of mosaic work, and its sentimentalities have all the +varieties of the kaleidoscope. To gladden the eye, study the taste, +and improve the heart, of each reader has been our aim--feelings which +we hope pervade this and every other Number of the MIRROR. + + * * * * * + +Number 340 of the MIRROR contains the Notices of the Literary +Souvenir, Forget-Me-Not, Gem, and Amulet, and with the present Number +forms the Spirit of the Annuals for 1829. + + * * * * * + +_Printed and Published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near +Somerset-House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New Market, +Leipsic; and by all Newsmen and Booksellers._ + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10730 *** |