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(Suggested by seeing some children playing, as the

funeral of a friend passed by.)

How can they play just as they're wont,

With hearts so full of glee, With laughter fond, and spirits light?

I ask how can it be?

They've gather'd round, I know it well,

To view a funeral scene, And yet they're merry, e'en as though

They ne'er such sight had seen. Yet oft before they've followed near

The funeral's sombre train, Thought for a moment of the cad,

But have not thought again.

“ The amiable consort of Philip the Fifth expired at the early age of twenty-five, at a moment when the Peace of Utrecht promised to her the enjoyment of much private and public felicity; the nation paid to her memory the just tribute of unfeigned regret, and the king was inconsolable: the sight of the Escurial continually renewed his grief ; he withdrew with his children to the Palace of Medina Cæli, and subsequently to the sequestered shades of St. Ilde. fonso, in order to indulge his sorrow, and zealously to prepare himself for a spiritual kingdom."-Bigland's Spain.

True, we expect no thought to find,

For children have no fears, No sorrows, troubles, and no cares,

Like those of riper years.

The sight of them takes memory back

Unto our childhood's hours, When sunny was our path of life,

And beautiful its flowers.

The sun's last rays of glory beam on Guadarama's

brow, And brightly tinge the beauteous vale that stretches

far below; Within whose calm sequestered shades a monarch in

his pride Now seeks the tranquil happiness a glittering court

denied. No more upon the capital an anxious glance he

throws, In halls of the Escurial no more his limbs re

pose ; Yet brighter hopes and fairer gems adorn the mo.

narch's brow, In Ildefonso's peaceful shades, than coronets bestow.

Once more our youthful friends we see,

Once more we hear those tones, So thoughtless, musical, and true,

As only childhood owns.

'Tis past, again we feel that time

Has altered all around; Our early playmates where are they?

Where can our friends be found ?

Look far and near, how few they seem !

Where numbers used to be ; How many of our cherished ones

We ne'er again shall see !

Here Art and Nature sweetly blend their richly varied

powers, And master-hands have lent their aid to deck these

fragrant bowers, And Poesie divine breathes forth a soft impassion'd

lay To lure the royal guest once more in Pleasure's

meads to stray: But still the monarch's heart is sad- the monarch's

smile is gone His thoughts by day, his dreams by night are on the

absent one; And mirth's gay tones, and music's strains, alike un.

beeded fall, The pure, the good, the beautiful, they never can


We ne'er again shall see ?-no, no,

That shall not be the case, For when our Father's house we reach,

And see our Saviour's face,

Then shall we see again those friends,

Again shall recognize
Those loving ones, beloved ones,

As dwellers in the skies.

Oh, surely such a thought as this

Should make us hope through life, E'en though that life be fraught with caro,

With losses, woe, and strife.

And though in childhood I could view

The funeral passing by,
And have no sorrow in my heart,

No tear bedim mine eyem

With bleeding heart the ona mourns his young

and lovely bride, Who, like a blighted lily, drooped her peerless head,

and died, While yet the bow of promise shed its brilliant beams

above, And o'er the royal pathway cast its hues of light and

love. But 'tis pot earthly weal alone that pledge of peace

implies, Man's spirit seeks a home beyond its own bright

starry skies; And faith discerns 'mid regal pomps, that hasten to

decay, A brighter, more enduring crown, that cannot pass away.

1. Η. Ι.

Yet now, whene'er I see the dead

Pass to the narrow tomb,
It seems as though some spirit said,
Prepare to meet thy doom."

H. E. A. T.


The Astrologer's Daughter. An His- ing, loving to the last. To the reader she is intorical novel; by Rose Ellen Hendriks. (Newby.) troduced as the “Astrologer's Daughter," --- In the perusal of these pages, fascinating as reared with the most tender and affectionate asthey are, the impression left is, that the subject siduity, away from the world, its pleasures, or and powers of the author have been at variance. its trouble. She enters it ; she loves; but he to It is not the ordinary mind, and of a female es- whom her affection is given becomes a murpecially, that can grasp and depict the turbulent derer. She still loves on; she pities, prays for, and plotting court of Mary de Medicis; the pas- and consoles him. He is killed : her broken sions, secret and open, actuating that adder's heart still clings to his memory—still her heart nest of infamy and vice, political and private is Poltrot de Méré's. She droops, and dies of disturbances, factions, intrigues, all poisoned consumption. The astrologer's is a character by deceit, all tending to one grand climax-the remarkably well developed. He is an impostor, interest of self; Mary de Medicis, in the novel a deceiver, playing upon the foibles and superbefore us, is but imperfectly depicted; she is stitions of the rich and powerful, but is half well sketched, but the outline wants colour. redeemed by his devoted attachment to his There are none of the lights and shadows, the daughter; all his craft is forgotten in his child; minutiæ of her mind displayed. She is a power- she is the only object to which his heart, weafully-minded woman; history depicts her as ried and overburdened, can turn for quietude such: the novel repeats it, echoes it, but goes and peace. Jeanne D'Albert, the gentle Queen no further. It is imperfect, because only a repe- of Navarre, and the Italian girl, Loretta, are adtition of history, which is an outline only, dis- mirably drawn. The delicacy displayed in the played with the broad masses of light and depicting of the more pathetie scenes is deserve shadow, giving a good idea of the effect; but it ing of the highest praise; there is a truth in is for the novelist to make those delicate touches them which cannot be mistaken; they are of the pencil, which shall stamp it as a master- written from the heart : every thought and every piece of art. The hero (Poltrot de Méré), a expression are the offspring of a mind aboundheadstrong, passionate youth, vowing eternal ing in gentle and delicate feeling. The followlove one hour, and in the next murdering the ing passage, where the jester visits the grave of Duke de Guise, is a character but indifferently his master, is beautifully pathetic :understood, and but ill portrayed. There is no “What a thing is habit ! Dull, ill, dying, still the dignity of feeling, no grandeur; his passionate Jester continued joking; yet each joke was accomfeelings are puerile, his remorse insipid. The panied with a doleful finale. Admiral Coligni wants energy; he is not a

" • What a merry, jolly fool I was once upon a Frenchman. Charles the Ninth' is an outline time ! now-now-well-well it was summer onceonly. The jester displays no wit ; nothing keen Winter, so it is. Come along, Dodo, you are more

now, how cold and chilly it is. My name is Joseph escapes his lips; all is common-place in his slow than I am ; dance along, my jolly fellow; nay, conversation and remarks. The scenes are often nay, not so fast; thou must dance to the tune of a dramatic, but they are clipped, cut short: there minuet-slow and graceful, and gentle. I've seen is an abruptness in the dialogues that leaves the Catherine de Medicis and pretty Queen Marguerite reader unsatisfied with their result, and con- dance a minuet ; they never danced better than Joscious there is something wanting, though he seph and Dodo.' hardly knows what; a character speaks, but the " But at length, after halting and panting, the author describes him: his feelings, thoughts, grave of Charles the Ninth appeared in view. There, and actions are explained, and all that is left for beside it, knelt the poor Jester; and gradually his the character to do is to talk; yet the words do aching head sunk low upon the cold turf. And not develope the mind. This fault pervades the I to his master, as Joseph to his King. He licked

Dodo, too, drew near ; poor faithful Dodo—faithful entire róle ; each is but an ordinary man or

those cold, clammy, death-stricken eyes; he howled woman : we are told whom they are; we believe piteously, and then he crouched down by the dying it; but the characters themselves do not confess Jester's side. The damp of death was now upon his it. There is little or no plot; the oft-trodden brow; the vital spark beat slower and slower; the pathway, history, affords it almost entirely ; the snow descended in large flakes, and ever and anon picture is varnished, tricked out with a few Pa- poor Joseph feebly brushed away the falling drops, rasitical forms, and so “sent into the world.” | as they fell pitiless upon his face ; and his last act We venture to express our conviction that the was kindness, for he took Dodo, and smiled a languid fair authoress has failed, from attempting to grasp · smile, full of the pain of dying, as he sheltered the too extended and powerful a subject.

animal under his own clothes, to keep him from the

cold tempest. A few moments, and Joseph existed After so much censure, it is but just to notice no more ; whilst the weight of the cold corpse falling the beauties which pervade the work, and they heavily on Dodo, the dog died with his masterare neither few nor insignificant. “The Astro poor faithful brute !" loger's Daughter” is an exquisite development i Burns's Fireside LIBRARY.—These handy of a gentle and affectionate being, hoping, trust- pocket editions are worth more than the very

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small sums at which they are published. They “Woman's Influence !" what a fund from abound with elegant and well-drawn illustra- whence to draw endless varieties of character, tions, and the literary matter is varied, and swaying, as it does, to so vast an extent, the drawn from the highest sources. By the lady moral and physical action of the world, and of in her carriage, or the reading pedestrian-him England especially, where the seraglio is un

hose time is so precious that as he walks he known, and “ Caudle lectures” are in vogue ! reads”—these works will be found agreeable, of this fund of variety, let us glance at the vaamusing, and instructive. Of the six volumes rious shades of “woman's influenceemployed before us, it would be difficult to make a selec- in the work before us. We must disagree with tion, or to say which deserves the greatest praise, the “influence” which Katherine has over De for each of them is clever and well translated. Baskervyle: there is no genuine influence where “Prasca Loupouloff,” and other tales, from the in nature we should look for most ; and the French (chiefly); the first story contains the wily craft and deceit of a bad woman of fashion authentic incidents on which Madame Cotton are made to triumph over the purest feeling of founded her well-known tale of “Elizabeth, or the heart-its first devoted love, so unselfish, so the Exiles of Siberia.” The tales which follow depending, so trusting. This is giving the suhave some characteristics in common with the periority to bad passions, and beneath them above, and are all well translated. "The crushing purity, devotedness, and good feeling. Portrait of the Emperor," from the German of Lady Eleanor Baskervyle's influence over her Wilhelm Hauff, “ The Caravan, and other son is a mere nothing : he does not even return stories," from the same author, fill two volumes. to his mother's bedside when she is on the point "Wallenstein, and the Swedes in Prague," and of death, as the wife whom he has married (Lady

Quentin Matsys,” from the German of Caro- Harriet Lyndsay)—the woman of fashion and line Pichler, complete two more; and a volume gaiety-detains him. The simple Agnes Jackof " Northern Minstrelsy," beautifully illus- son has no influence over the "saintly” Mr. trated, and containing songs and poems from Hemsworth; in short, the only realinfluence" the pen of Burns, Scott, Hamilton, Hogg, in the work issues from Lady Harriet Lyndsay, Macneil, Cunningham, Lyle, and many other a bad woman, a worse wife, and an unfeeling scarcely less noted authors, makes this a most mother. With every vice that could be launched desirable acquisition to the Fireside Library. into without absolute indecency, with a name EVENINGS IN THE PYRENEES. (Joseph made the “

already stained by heavy imputations, this is Masters). - These stories are tiresome reading, all others compared with it become insignificant.

supreme” influence of the fair sex : from the laboured style in which they are writ- Surely such a specimen is not an agreeable exten. That they are translations is confessed by hibition, to say the least of it; nor will the lathe authoress in her preface; yet had such in- dies of England deem either themselves or their formation not been rendered, the truth is but too feelings particularly Aattered by this mistaken conspicuous; some of them are translations in the worst of forms-harsh, discordant, and un

character, embodying “Woman's Influence.” studied. The punctuation throughout is care

The writer is evidently a well-educated and less, which, in many instances, has the effect of thinking person ; is well acquainted with life, rendering passages ridiculously absurd. Some the movement of every grade of society. The

and the various mysterious wheels which actuate of the tales, the “ Souvenirs of the Veteran” dialogues are unusually brilliant, and the pathos especially, have in them a great fund of interest of a character above the maudlin sentimentality and amusement. The illustrations is almost in worse taste than the novels. The following is an exquisite picture

getting up”. of the of the generality of this class of fashionable book itself. They have not one redeeming of variety of feeling, where Frank Egerton quality, most of them being very indifferently brings the proofs of Katherine's legitimacy of drawn, and the glyphographic engraving here is

birth :no better than a worn-out woodcut. While publishers pursue the “cheap” system of “getting “ The invalid continuing to slumber, the ladies were up” works, like the specimen before us, they tempted by the bright sun into the flower-garden, confer no benefit on the public, and injure art. and Katherine was just acknowledging the refreshThey produce monstrosities, which are never

ment bestowed by the pure air, when a servant ap“ good-looking :" there is a pitiable de proached her, announcing that Mr. Egerton was in formity in them that excites anything but plea- escaped her, and she hastened along the terrace,

the breakfast-room. Something like a faint scream One-third of the amount of engravings, scarcely hearing Lady Delaval say, 'I shall be in the had they been well drawn, and executed on conservatory when my presence is required, my wood, doubtless would have had a better effect dear.' than the abundance of rubbish which this pro- As she passed the windows of the room with her fanation of art has enabled the publisher to in- eyes on the ground, she caught a glimpse of the troduce.

visitor watching for her, and the moment after the WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. By Mrs. Brereton.

servant had opened the door, the words— I have (Newly.)— The subject of this novel, as will be her heart had already told her, that nothing less than

brought you all, Miss de Baskervyle,' ratified what instantly seen, affords an immense scope for the complete success could have brought Egerton to Castle display of every-day life, from the aristocracy to Harley. Her trembling hands received the packet, the “sons,” or rather daughters, “ of toil." and she endeavoured to speak her thanks, but the



words were inarticulate, and she sank upon a chair, " De Baskervyle's brow was immediately clouded: unable to meet the gaze which she was conscious was *I am sorry I cannot do it.' fixed upon her. Egerton remained silent for a few 66 Not do it? Have you promised it to any one minutes, then said, with almost equal agitation-- else then?' asked her ladyship, quickly.

•• The certificate of marriage is there, and some other papers, not necessary, but valuable as corrobora.

" "No, not promised ; buttive and explanatory of circumstances of considerable

" It is very strange you should have made any interest to us. And now, Katherine, may I say that arrangement without speaking to me; I think it which has been burning in my heart during many long shows a want of confidence which is quite undeserved and anxious months? Will you think me selfish by me." if I acknowledge that in obtaining these papers I

**• Do not be vexed, my love: I did not mention it have hoped to obtain leave to solicit that which is to you because I feared you would ask it for Mr. dearer to me than life itself ? May I tell you that I Villiers, and I wished to escape the pain of refusing am free to avow my fervent attachment ?'

you anything," replied Reginald, tenderly. “Katherine answered something in which her lover

“ His tone and manner gave Lady Harriet courage, caught the words 'gratitude'--esteem.'

and she said, “Then pray grant this request.' "I do not ask more than that I may speak of "• Indeed I cannot; I have personal reasons for my own love, dearest Katherine, and thus win you to my refusal.' a warmer feeling when the sad duty of the present *• Personal ! What can they be?' said her moment shall be past, and you shall feel your heart ladyship, her curiosity being now piqued. at liberty to answer me.'

"I do not approve of Mr. Villiers' character ; I “ He did so speak-of his interest almost from the have heard of him in a manner I do not like.' first hour of seeing her-of the unsuspected growth " • Indeed! Well, I cannot see any harm in him; of attachment under the guise of friendship-of his he is just the proper person for Harleyford. He is fruitless endeavours to conquer his love-of his agony gentlemanly enough for your table; he is well con. at receiving Dr. Evesham's account of her difti. nected, agreeable, and is something more than a mere culties-of the fervent increase of his attachment country parson.' while in her society at L-of the fever of hope and "And a well-principled Christian beside ?' asked anxiety in which he had lived since her recall to Reginald, coldly. Castle Harley-of the consent of his uncle, and the Nonsense; you are laughing at me, Reginald. warm approbation of his sister. And was Katherine Say that you will give him the living, and Lyndsay insensible to this ? or did she confess to her lover will write to him at once.' that she too had been anxious beyond her mere birth- “ This name braced De Baskervyle's courage right? We cannot tell what passed in that inter- afresh, and he replied-—- I cannot, Harriet ; do not view, which was interrupted by a message from the ask me any more. nurse, entreating Miss de Baskervyle to go to Lady * • But why not?' Eleanor's room directly.

" . Because I do not approve his general charac. “ Egerton begged to be allowed to remain till she ter.' could return, which was granted ; and Katherine I suppose, then, you are going to become a went to the invalid's bedside. A gesture from the saint ? Well, certainly, if that be the case, Villiers nurse told her that her fears as to Lady Eleanor's will not suit you. Mr. Hemsworth had better keep temporary amendment were but too well fulfilled; the living,'observed her ladyship, bitterly. and Lady Delaval taking the hand of the bewildered " "No, Harriet, I am not going to become a saint, girl, said, “Dear Katherine, I have sent for Mr. as you unwisely call it ; but I am resolved to give Evans, but it will be over before he can be found.' Harleyford to a person who will do his duty to his

“ It was so in less than half an hour Lady parishioners as a clergyman, and be a rational ad. Eleanor de Baskervyle was no more.

viser and companion to me.' “Lady Delaval led Katherine from the sad scene, ""Oh, pray have an adviser and companion if and her pleasure was greater than her surprise when you please ; but I hope you do not expect me to she saw the poor girl fall, weeping bitterly, into the associate with any of your rational hypocrites ; even arms of Mr. Egerton, who was pacing the breakfast if I do go to the Castle, I will not be under the conroom in great anxiety.”

trol of any father confessor,' she replied, angrily. The scene between Reginald de Baskervyle ference with your comfort or pleasure ; the gentle.

"• My dear Lady Harriet, do not fear any interand his wife, when she discovers her influence over his once subdued feelings is gone, claims

man to whom I mean

"Then you have really promised it after all ?' particular notice; it is truthful in the extreme :-

No-not literally promised. I have heard of a ««• Hark!' exclaimed Lyndsay. “De Baskervyle young man who is gentlemanly and agreeable enough is now come in-go and ask him for the living at to please you, and moral enough to satisfy me; and once-we must not delay.'

to him, if I like his manner, I mean to give Harley. " Will you remain here till I return?'

ford, if he will take it.' " Yes,' replied Lyndsay, throwing himself upon Of course he will. Pray who is this paragon?" a couch, while Lady Harriet hastened to the library, “ De Baskervylle felt the 'sneering tone in wbich where she met her husband, just returned from his this question was asked, but he was determined to ride.

keep his temper, if possible ; yet dreading the ex. I have a favour to request, Reginald,' she said. plosion which his explanation would probably produce, “ De Baskervyle's mind being occupied with the he hesitated a moment, till upon her Ladyship repeatthoughts of his projected journey, he feared the pre-ing the question, he said :sent petition might refer to it in some manner, and 11. Dr. Evesham has recommended a young friend he hastily replied

of his for the living.' "• I shall be happy to grant it-if I can.'

“Dr. Evesham ? Evesham! Surely I have heard "Oh, you can, I know. I want the living of that name," observed her ladyship, musing. Harleyford for your friend Villiers.'

"• You may have heard me mention Miss de Baskervyle's residence with Dr. Evesham ; and he is , tance with, and to understand and analyze the a friend of Frank Egerton's.'

wonder produced. Hence it is that with most "The storm had begun to collect at the first words: readers “fairy-books," after the first perusal, the mention of Mr. Egerton brought it to a climax.

have so wearying an effect on the mind, that *** Indeed, Mr. de Baskerville, I do not understand this. Am I, your wife, to be for ever thwarted in they are but too often condemned in a wholesale my wishes, by the influence of that Mr. Egerton ? I manner, condemned in one tremendous sweep suppose it is some rejected lover of that Hirt, Miss of disapprobation and disgust. There are, perde Baskervyle, who is to be placed at Harleyford ? I haps, no two things so diametrically opposed, will not be treated thus; and I declare to you now, and yet so almost invariably coupled together, that unless Mr. Villiers be presented to the living, I as

Fairy Tales," and “ Nonsense.' Why? Is will not go down to that miserable Castle, to be it because the world, in this the nineteenth cen. buried alive where no one will condescend to speak tury, is so purely matter-of-fact in its thoughts to me,'

and actions? Is it that men and manners are "This was too much for Reginald's temper to wrapt up in self and self's interest, that it is bear.

the present-the tangible present--alone they "Lady Harriet,' he said, in a tone which he was rarely provoked to use to any one, your inferiors curbed by and subdued to the mere calculation

are interested in? Or is it that the mind is will be glad of your protection and kindness ; whether your equals and superiors will associate with you as

of pounds, shillings, and pence, which are, your station requires must depend on your conduct most generally, deemed the advantage arising as my wife. I fear your former reputation will be from the real present, and that, so fettered, imalittle in your favour, but it is not yet too late.' gination becomes a nonentity-a possession,

" Lady Harriet was by no means devoid of sense, nay, a disease of intellect which our forefathers and she felt the truth contained in the last sentence of were cursed with, but which the more enlight. her husband's angry speech ; for a moment she was ened children have now thrown off, with the abashed, and recalling her self-control in some degree, exception of a slight eruption, which is caused she replied :". And pray when does this wonderful person go and which never attains a growth sufficient to

by a worldly-gain calculation, soon dispelled, to Harleyford? I hear that Mr. Hemsworth has give the Ideal a sway over the Real? Titanias, left it.'

• Immediately, I believe. I have heard from Genii, Oberons, and Ogres, are they beneath him this morning, and have promised my friend the study and reflection of mortal minds ? do Egerton that I will go down to the Castle directly to they and their actions, which are themselves, meet him. I shall then order your apartments to be inculcate nothing or “ nonsense ?Be the Ideal made ready for you.'

form what it may, and its ideality embodying "That is as it may be,' replied Lady Harriet, passions good or evil, the Real learns a lesson thoughtfully; and seeing that her husband was in no equally beneficial from each, as the development mood to be teased any further, she left him, to of the passions in the one, applies in a direct report to her brother the failure of her mission. "Upon repeating to Lyndsay all that had taken leads the mind, in contemplation of the visible

manner to the passions of the other, and also place with De Baskervyle, Lady Harriet found him more annoyed than she expected, and she was

Now, to the pondering on the invisible beyond. astonished at what she called the excess of his In the tales before us, the wonderful is not so irritation at so trifling a disappointment. He was

much aimed at as the pure and beautiful; and striding backwards and forwards in her boudoir, amidst the workings of elves and sprites, the attering sundry ejaculations of which she could not glimpses of nature in her earthly form peep comprehend the purport, till suddenly stopping short forth with a truth of delineation, proceeding at an attempt she made to rally him, he exclaimed :- from a master-mind, reading and transcribing

"So you do not see the consequences of this; have all the various forms the earth-mind is subject you lost your wits, Harriet ?' “I hope not; but I fear yours are wandering tale of The White Egbert !

to. How truthful is the following, from the just at present,' she replied. "" Cannot you see that you have lost all influence of notions of what the world was, and what men

“ From the little that I read, I made myself a set over your husband ?'"

were; and very queer ones they were ; for they were TALES FROM THE PHANTASUS, ETC., OF Lud- all taken from myself and the society in which I

WIG TIECK. i Vol. (Burns.) lived. If we talked of gay, bright, happy people, In reading these pages, the feeling of the I could only fancy them like the little dog ; beautiful, presence of a purely contemplative and poetical stately ladies must look like the bird, and ancient mind seizes on the reader's imagination, and dames like my old woman. My stories contained carries him on through the detached kingdoms something about love, and I made myself the heroine of fairy-land, with an interest not arising from self the most beautiful knight the world had ever

many wonderful adventures. I pictured for my. their endless variety so much as from the novel

seen; I adorned him with every grace and every treatment of the subject, fairy-land having been perfection; and though, after all my trouble, I could generally a vehicle for the marvellous and won- not tell exactly what he was like, I could feel the derful, used as a means to the excitement of the most passionate despair if he did not return my af. mind beyond its powers, in endeavouring to fection; and I had all sorts of eloquent speeches to comprehend the form described, and to enter make, which I would often repeat aloud, to win his into an incomprehensible sphere of action, leav- love.” ing but too often a confused and overwrought In The Love Charm,” the description, first, idea, struggling to obtain an intimate acquain of the “quicksilver Roderick” by his friend

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