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inches, and unless the fint was put in day it happened to be, used to sally to a nicety, by pulling the trigger with Muckle-mou'd Meg and the you by no means caused any uncover- Lang Gun, charged two hands and a ing of the pan, but things in general finger; and, with a loud shout, startremained in statu quo—and there was ling them from their roost like the perfect silence. She had a worm- sudden casting of a swarm of bees, eaten stock, into which the barrel sel we let drive into the whirr-a shower dom was able to get itself fairly in- of feathers was instantly seen swimserted ; and even with the aid of cir- ming in the air, and flower-bed and cumvoluting twine, 'twas always cog- onion-bed covered with scores of the gly. Thus too, the vizy (Anglice mortally wounded old cocks with black sight) generally inclined unduly to one heads, old hens with brown, and the side or the other, and was the cause of pride of the eaves laid low before all of us every day hitting and hurting their first crop of pease! Never was objects of whose existence, even, we there such a parish for sparrows. were not aware, till alarmed by the You had but to fing a stone into any lowing or the galloping of cattle on stack-yard, and up rose a sprauchthe hills; and we hear now the yell shower. The thatch of every cottage of an old woman in black bonnet and was drilled by them like honey-combs. red cloak, who shook her staff at us House-spouts were of no

use in like a witch, with the blood running rainy weather—for they were all down the surrows of her face, and, choked up by sprauch-nests. At each with many oaths, maintained that she particular barn-door, when the farmwas murdered. The “ Lang Gun” were at work, you might have had certainly a strong vomit-and, thought you saw the entire sparrowwith slugs or swan shot, was danger- population of the parish. Seldom a ous at two hundred yards to any living Sabbath, during pairing, building, thing. Bob Laurie, at that distance, breeding, nursing, and training seaarrested the career of a mad dog- son, could you hear a single syllable a single slug having been sent through of the sermon for their sakes, all the eye into the brain. We wonder a-huddle and a-chirp in the belfry and if one or both of those companions of among the old loose slates. On every our boyhood be yet alive-or, like stercoraceous deposit on coach, cart, many other great guns that have since or bridle road, they were busy on made more noise in the world, fallen grain or pulse ; and, in spite of cur a silent prey to the rust of oblivion ! and cat, legions embrowned every cot

Not a boy in the school had a game tage garden. Emigration itself in certificatemor, as it was called in the many million families would have left parish-"a leeshance.” Nor, for a no perceptible void ; and the inexteryear or two, was such a permit neces- minable multitude would have laughed sary ; as

we confined ourselves al- at the Plague. most exclusively to sparrows. Not O Muckle-mou'd Meg ! and can it that we had any personal animosity to be that thou art numbered among forthe sparrow individually—on the con- gotten things—unexistences ! trary, we loved him, and had a tame “ Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course, one--a fellow of infinite fancy-with With rocks, and stones, and trees!” comb and wattles of crimson cloth What would we not now give for a like a game-cock. But their numbers, sight-a kiss—of thy dear lips! Lips without number numberless, seemed to which we remember once to have put justify the humanest of boys in killing to our own, even when thy beloved any quantity of sprauchs. Why, they barrel was double-loaded ! Now we would sometimes settle on the clipped sigh to think on what then made us half-thorn and half-beech hedge of the shudder! Oh! that thy but were but Manse garden in myriads, midge-like ; now resting on our shoulder! Alas! and then out any two of us, whose for ever discharged! Burst and rent

asunder, art thou now lying buried in stormy days of our boyhood—when a peat-moss? Did some vulgar vil- gloom itself was glory-and when lain village Vulcan convert thee, name But and nature, into nails ? Some dark “Be hush'd my dark spirit ! for wisdom convisaged Douglas of a hen-roost-rob


When the faint and the feeble deplore.” bing Egyptian, solder thee into a pan? Oh! that our passion could dig down Cassandra, Corinna, Sappho, Lucreunto thee into the bowels of the tia, Cleopatra, Tighe, De Stael—in earth—and with loud lamenting ele- their beauty or in their genius-are, gies, and louder hymns of gratulation, with millions on millions of the fairrestore thee, butless, lockless, vizy- faced or bright-souled, nothing but less, burst, rent, torn, and twisted dust and ashes ; and as they are, though thou be'st, to the light of day, shall Baillie, and Grant, and Hemans, and of the world-rejoicing Sun! Then and Landor be—and why vainly yearn would we adorn thee with evergreen “ with love and longings infinite,” to wreaths of the laurel and the ivy—and save from doom of perishable nature hang thee up, in memory and in mon- -of all created things, but one alone ument of all the bright, dim, still, -Muckle-mou'd Meg !

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THERE are three Quarterly Reviews number. This work is well known in now published in the United States ; England, and is distinguished, if not one at Boston, one at Philadelphia, for its brilliancy, for its calm good and one at Charleston. They are sense, and its general freedom from each exceedingly creditable specimens national prejudices. of the talents and attainments of our There is nothing that we can see in brethren of the New World ; and we, it, of any jealousy of England and her whatever others may think, feel a real institutions, or any vain parade of the satisfaction, somewhat approaching to power, the resources, and intelligence pride, in be holding the English lan- of our transatlantic brethren. It is, guage cultivated with such success, indeed, fortunate, that the unnatural and made the instrument of diffusing animosities of children, boasting a so much val uable information through common mother, and participating, countries where the rude dialect of each very largely, in the blessings of the Indian savage was, a century ago, a free government, should no longer the only medium of communicating be fomented by the passions and prethe commonest thoughts and desires judices of ignorant and flippant writof the wild huntsman's life. The ers, on either side the water. It is spread of our native tongue over the to the real interest, both of England widest and fairest portions of the globe and America, that a constant feeling is a remarkable example of the influ- of kindness should be cherished beence of a great commercial nation in tween them;—those who desire friendthe civilization of mankind; and it is ship and peace cannot do better than more than probable that, in a very few promote their common literature, and years, the use of the English will as freely interchange a tribute of respect far exceed that of all other languages, for all those productions which belong as did the Spanish within a century to high principles and solid learning. after the discovery of the passage of

“ The American Quarterly Review"

is printed at Philadelphia, and has yet The North American Review, pub- only reached its tenth number. It lished at Boston, is now in its 60th appears to us well adapted for popu

the Cape.

larity, and conveys a great body of gination. Our Southern reviewer is valuable information, not very new or inclined to be sufficiently severe upon very original, but well adapted to the his poetical brethren—and not without wants of a people whose literary ha- justice. bits have yet to be formed. The The interchange of literature besubjects, and the mode of treating tween nations is like the reciprocity them, are rather more elementary of commerce ;-each party must profit than in the North American Review ; by it. Although, for many years, and it is, perhaps, rather more distin- England will supply America with guished for a strong religious tone, not books—for the more civilized country in the least allied to fanaticism, but will have greater leisure to attend to very decided,

the luxuries of life, while the settlers, Of “the Southern Review,” two the creators of fresh channels of comnumbers only have yet appeared. The merce, the inventors and adapters of publication commenced in February,

machinery, must be busy for a century of the present year.

or so, getting their new house in order The first number of this work cer

-it is not therefore to be concluded tainly displays much variety of talent; the literature of America. We ap

that we shall derive no advantage from —for we have papers on the Calculus, Phrenology, Political Economy, Colo- prehend that the writers of the United nization, and Mineralogy ;-and we

States, with occasional exceptions, must conscientiously say they appear

will for some time put forth their to us each executed with talent and strength in periodical papers rather learning that reflect honor on the than in bulky volumes. They have

no literature to create. The wide source from which American Literature has sprung.

extent of our common storehouse is There is a very forcible paper on

open to them ;—and they may range, Roman Literature in the second num

fully and freely, amongst our plenteous ber, which appears to us from the garners. They were born in a happy same able pen as that of Classical

time for the rapid attainment of knowLearning It comes with peculiar

ledge. They live in an age of Encyinterest from an American pen-and

clopædias—and all they have to do is from a country where literature must to adapt the great mass of information necessarily be catholic rather than to the leisure and temper of their own national-a reflection of the modes of

people. Science and literature must, thought and feeling in the Old World,

in the United States, be for a long rather than the exposition of any pe- have to enclose all the old, fat, blos

time elementary and popular. They culiarities in their own state of society. The United States have

soming, and fruit-bearing common

sprung up at once into the manhood of civili- fields, before they have occasion to

break zation, without having toiled to that

up the wastes of knowledge. eminence through the long contests

. They will, therefore, reprint all our old which knowledge, in Europe, has had glorious writers—the Shakspeares, and to wage with brute force, and which Bacons, and Miltons, and Popes, and contests have left behind them the

Swifts, and Burkes—their inheritance monuments and the associations upon have they not the Murrays, and Long

as well as ours. For modern novelties, which a national literature must be formed.

The antiquities of North mans, and Colburns of England, to America are to be found in England. fore, they will review, for half a cen

set their presses going? And, thereThe American periodicals, which tury at least. But we shall still be we have rapidly noticed, present us gainers by this process.

We shall see with few favorable specimens of ori- how our factitious modes of thought, ginal works published in the United growing out of our over-refinement in States, particularly in works of ima- manners, and our intricate system of

compromises in politics, will look in shade, “powdered as for a feast," the eyes of individuals and communi- but “ rank and foul within,” amidst ties who are inclined to err in the all its perfumes. American literature other excess—who sometimes mistake will be for many years to the English, rudeness for strength, and are too apt as the bold, sometimes rude, but honto apply the standard of utility to mat- est and substantial yeoman, is to the ters which have neither heighth nor polite, perchance sarcastic, but elegant breadth, and cannot be guaged by all and accomplished favorite of the operathe algebra in the world. One of box. The one tells a plain tale in their reviewers—and we think the homely and vigorous language--does most talented of them-reproaches his not repress his natural curiosity when fellow-citizens, that they begin from he sees anything wonderful or new the beginning and take nothing for and is often abundantly provoking with granted. We, on the other hand, are his rather ignorant boasting upon the mightily inclined to pride ourselves subject of his own imperfect acquaintupon taking most things for granted, ance with men and books, and most beginning at the practical point, ac- matters of taste. The other disdains cording to our notions of that really to mention any single thing by its right ideal halting-place. Now, in our ha- name-remains in ignorance of any tred of appearing ignorant, and of be- unfamiliar object rather than request ing suspected of moving in our leading- to be informed—and is most constrings, both in learning and politics, temptuously loud in his abomination we sometimes utterly forget those ge- of all those persons and matters which neral principles—of liberty and all conduce to the ordinary comforts and that, for instance, which no refine- satisfactions of life. Now these two ment, real or imaginary, ought to al- individuals might learn a great deal of low us to neglect. The mirror of each other-if each would abate a American literature may sometimes little of exclusiveness and arrogance ; very happily show us, what a prim, —and just in the same way, two naaffected, strait-laced, effeminate and tions like England and the United powerless thing is that public mind, States, might abundantly profit by an “which goes on refining,” till it has intellectual interchange, if they would lost all relish for the plain food from agree to cast aside the prejudices which it must derive its strength, which occasionally render each odious and minces along, the shadow of a in the eyes of the other.

THE SPANISH GUITAR. My gay guitar, my gay guitar !

When night's deep hue the horizon bounds, When sleep the furious sounds of war, Amid the ceaseless ocean sounds, The soldier's bosom, fresh and free, The dash of waves, the voiceful gale, Finds solace and delight in thee.

The sea-bird's


the shifting sail, The stern array, the warrior pride, The fisher in his lonely boat, The plume, the musket-dashed aside, Cheers the long darkness with thy note. Those pulses that unmoved can brave He looks where many a leagne away The burst of battle's fiery wave,

His native shore lies dim and grey, Dance light beneath the evening star, And wakes, to greet the moon's pale car, When ring thy notes, my gay guitar! The music of his gay guitar. 0! what can smooth to joy but thou, At vintage feast, when dance and song The toiling peasant's dusty brow? Inspire with jollity the throng, When o'er Valencia’s burning plain

'Mid lips that gush with joyous tone, No breezes fan the yellow grain,

And eyes the heart's delight that own, No shower to cool the parching sky, 0! then, my gay guitar, thy strain No shade to rest the wearied eye, Flings a new life through every vein; While homeward slow be plods his way In halls where bigh-born beauties glide, In the red sunset's level ray,

'Mid brows of sway, and steps of pride, He springs with glee to hear from far The revel's blithest hour 'twould mar, 1 The tinkling of the gay guitar.

To want thy notes, my gay guitar !

In toilsome paths, o'er steep and glade, My gay guitar, at midnight hour,
Where waves the hoary cork-tree's shade, With thee I seek Louisa's bower:
Where loud the inland torrent roars, Thy music round her slumber streams,
Or rise the Atlantic's stormy shores, And blends amid her starty dreams,
Rings the slow mule's unceasing bell Till opes the lattice and displays
From sea to plain, from crag to dell; Her form of light to bless my gaze,
And still his seguidilla's cheer

Her trembling breast, and glowing cheek, The wanderings of the muleteer,

And eyes a timid joy that speak, And to his soul no joys there are

For pride and fear's reluctant bar So dear as thine, my gay guitar !

Yield to thy strain, my gay guitar! The student pale, whose eyes are wrought When memory's shadows round me rise, To dimness by excess of thought,

When hope departs, and pleasure dies, Whose vigor all is worn away,

And every gentler pulse has filed And youthful locks untimely grey,

The anguish'd heart, and aching head; Who feebly runs to meet the tomb, When burning passion's wildest hour While wisdom lights him through the gloom; O'er the dark soul asserts its power; When beats the swelling heart with pain, In each dread change the soul can know And anguish throbs in every vein,

Of impulse fierce, or hopeless woe, 0! then with thee, my gay guitar,

To calm the troubled spirit's war, He soothes his struggling bosom's jar. I touch thy strings, my gay guitar !




Explanation of the Print of the Solitaire, formed of depending pearFashions.

pearls, from festoons of gold, in light

chain work. The bracelets consist of A DRESS of pink gauze, with a rich two rows of gold beads, clasped with white satin stripe. Three pointed a cameo. fiounces, set on rather scanty, ornament the border: one, the same as

A pelisse of stone-color muslin, lined the dress, placed between two of with sarcenet of the same color, and white Japanese gauze : the flounces finished down each side the front of fall over each other, and all have the the skirt with points ; between each points bound with a narrow rouleau. point is a bouquet of flowers in emThe body is made slightly en gerbe, broidery, of black. Over the bust and high across the bust, but low on the back is a canezou-spencer without shoulders, and the sleeves are very sleeves, the same as the pelisse, finishshort, plain, and full, with the stripes ed by points, the same as those on in bias. The hair is elevated à la the skirt, except that the bouquets are Giraffe, on the summit of the head; left out. The sleeves are à la Marie, but this ornamental hair, which is and have a deep cuff at the wrist, carried so high, is not formed of wired edged with antique English points, loops, according to the first arrange- which are finished round in the same ment of that head-dress, but consists manner as those on the pelisse and of innumerable curls in raised clus canezou : the throat is encircled by a ters, confined by narrow platted braids,

double ruff. A white transparent which by being twisted round, sup- bonnet is worn with this dress, with a port, and keep them firm together: ruche at the edge, and trimmed with at the base of this elevation is a pink ribbon, edged and spotted with wreath of large, full-blown, blush black : though the bonnet is fastened roses; the hair in front is parted on under the chin by a mentonnière of the forehead, in very full curls, though blond, the strings are tied carelessly not large, over the temples, and short by a bow on the right side. at the ears.

Madonna braids are next the face, and the curls beyond. The

EVENING COSTUME. ear-pendants are of pearls, but not A DRESS of turquoise-blue sarcenet, very long; and the necklace is à la with two rows of points round the

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