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given."

while he was speaking, but I could not ob- “At the gate way, which opened a little serve the least change in the expression of farther on into the gardens, we found the his countenance. When he was done, and two faithful freedmen, Boto and Dromo, even the soldiers that stood about appear. waiting for us with horses richly caparisoned to be expecting his answer—a single ed, (for they knew not how we might trabitter motion of derision passed over his vel from the city,) and with change of dress lips, and he nodded, as if impatiently, to for the whole of us. We passed under the the Prætorian whose lips were upon the porch of a small rural chapel that stood near end of the trumpet. The man blew, and the gate, and there Sabinus and I exchanged while yet the surroạnding arches were our military attire for the peaceful gown, echoing the sound, the sword-bearer had in which alone we could with propriety executed his office, and the headless trunk appear in the nuptial celebration. Athafell heavily upou the pavement. Instinc- nasia, for her part, threw over all her dress tively I turned me on the instant from a long veil of white, for she alone durst not the bloody spectacle, and my eye rested shew her face in the precincts, where of again upon the couch of Athanasia—but right she was mistress. We then mounted not upon the vision of her tranquillity. the new steeds that had been prepared for The clap with which the body of Cotilius us, and dashing through the grove that fell upon the smooth stones of the court, edged the lawn, joined the bridal procession had, perhaps, reached the sleeping ear, and just at the moment when it had come in we all know with what swiftness thoughts front of the villa-and all the merry clachase thoughts in the wilderness of dreams. mour of shouting, and all the bursting me. So it was that she started in her sleep, at lody of lutes and cymbals, saluted the first the very moment when the mortal blow was appearance of the curtained litter, in which

the young Sempronia was borne in the Difficulties continue to crowd round and chariots.

midst of her attendant pomp of horsemen the lovers, till, by the lenity of Tra

“ Conspicuous in front of all rode, in his jan, and the persevering friendship of lofty car, the Flamen of Jupiter, arrayed the Prætorian Sabinus, they leave be- in his long purple robe, and wearing on his hind them the dangerous grandeurs of head the consecrated diadem. The priestess the Imperial City, and embark for of Apollo, too, was there, surrounded with Britain. Sabinus marries the widow, all her damsels, ruling, or seeming to rule and Sextus, made happy with a young

with her own hand, the milk-white horses er and more gentle bride, inhabits the of the sun that pawed the ground before Roman villa of Valerius. Before he her burnished wheels. Gay horsemen checkleaves Italy for ever, the Briton is wit- and the peals of music. White-robed dam

ed their steeds amidst the blaze of torches, ness to the rejoicings on his friend's sels and youths, advancing from the portal, marriage.

chaunted the Hymenæan. Far and wide "He pointed through an opening among nuts and rose-buds were scattered among the thick trees on the right hand, and we the torch-bearing throng. Young Sextus perceived, indeed, at some distance below leaped from his horse, and the litter touchus by the river side, innumerable symp- ed the ground, and the bride, wrapped all toms of magnificent festivity. The great over in her saffron-coloured veil, was lifted, arcades of the villa were blazing from end gently struggling, over the anointed threshto end with lamps and torches, displaying hold." Sabinus swelled the hymenæal choz in distinctness that almost rivalled that of rus with his ever-cheerful voice ; while poor noon-day, every gilded cupola and sculp- Athanasia-my own unsaluted brideshe tured porch, and all the long lines of mar- stood apart from all the clamour, gazing ble columns that sustained the proud fabric through her veil-it may be through her of the Valerian mansion.

tears- upon the festal pageant. “ In front of the main portico, and all 66 We ventured not into the blazing hall, along the broad steps of its ascent, stood till all the rest had entered it. The symcrowds of people, as if in expectation. Be- bolic fleece had already been shorn from fore them, girls and boys all clad in white the spotless lamb, and all were preparing raiment, were dancing on the lawn to the to pass into the chambers beyond, where sound of a joyful tabor. A confused hum the tables appeared already covered with of gladness ascended from every part of the wedding-feast. Every one was glad, the illuminated pile. Come, my boy, and every one was busy, and no one repush on cheerily,' quoth the Centurion ; garded us as we stood beneath the pillars of . if you don't, we may chance after all to the hall,--contemplating the venerableimabe too late for the great moment. The ges of my ancestors, that were arranged all procession, it is evident, can be but a little around is from the mouldered bust of the way before us--and I, Valerius,' he added great Publicola, down to the last of the li. in a whisper, must not lose the benefit of neage, the princely Cneius, whose inheritthe rehearsal.'

ance was and was not mine. There were Vol. XI.

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moments, I cannot conceal it, in which Centurion_tenderly the kind man bade some feelings of regret were mingled with us both adieu—and I lifted my Athanasia, the admiration, which I could not refuse to weeping natural tears devoid of bitterness, the spectacle of all the ancient grandeur into the little boat which had been prepared that for the first, and for the last time, I for us." was gazing on. But Athanasia leaned upon me as I stood there, and all things seemed best evidence of our gratification in the

The extent of our quotations is the well, when I felt the pressure of her bosom. work. It has some trivial peculiarities led us aside from the scene of all the noisy of style. The cadence of the prose is merriment into an upper chamber, where, sometimes too measured; it has even divested of her veil, the lovely bride of a scriptural formality. Occasional Sextus stood waiting to fold Athanasia in phrases occur unusual to, at least, a one parting embrace to her bosom. I turn- Southern ear. “Of a surety-so sayed aside, and witnessed not their farewell ing-a certain man-ere long-in a

word-mine for my," &c. “ Licinius, Lucius, Velius, and the Priestess, came into the bridal chamber,

Those blemishes are too trivial to be with the wreathed cup. It was then that, observed on, but as matters of simple in their presence, I proclaimed Athanasia alteration. The writer has shewn highfor my bride. They kissed her pale cheek ly valuable acquirements, for the illus-once and again she returned the salute - tration of ancient times, in the most and with slow steps we took our departure. pleasing form of graceful fiction; he Sabinus, the good Sabinus, walked along has the learning, the language, and with us down the dark alley that led to the the imagination. His triumph is see river side. The two freedmen were already sitting at their oars--we bade adieu to the

tears.

cure.

NEW-YEARS'S DAY CONGRATULATIONS.

DEAR PUBLIC, THERE exists in the bosom of every parent, as you well know, a bond of natural affection, which, while it acts as a corrective of all animosity towards his children, likewise operates as an incentive to a free and unreserved communication of sentiment. Therefore, as you are quite aware of our regarding you with truly fatherly affection, it is to be expected that we sometimes descend from our lofty seat of magisterial authority, unbend ourselves before you, and, forgetting the formalities of wisdom, lay open those minutiæ of the heart; which, of however little importance they may be of themselves, form a great part of the happiness or misery of every human being.

Sure never Editor was more respected, or had greater cause for being contented with mankind in general than ourselves. Universally read at home, or nearly so,-translated into the continental languages—transported to America, perhaps to New South Wales—and the text book of either India—we are quite a citizen, and civilizer of the world, and perhaps a greater philanthropist than Mr Bennet himself. Contributions crowd in upon us from the four winds of heaven ; and we can boast of being a favourite in almost every considerable city of the earth,-always excepting Tombuctoo; the reading public being there, we should suspect, things of futurity.

But, notwithstanding all this happiness, we have a small complaint to make, and it regards you, my dear Public. Does it never strike you (with reverence be it spoken,) that your overwhelming civility may not a little usurp the time, that would otherwise be dedicated to the promotion of science, and to the cause of loyalty and good humour ? But errors, which proceed from excess of goodheartedness, we shall ever be the first to pardon, and to pass over quietly. Hero are we, on the 10th January; nor, since Christmas day, have we been allowed an hour's solitude in our study, or a single meal, save breakfast, in our domicile ; and, for a fortnight to come, we have partial engagements for every day,

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save one. Do not, we beseech you, mistake us for an alderman ; and recollect, that your mistaken kindness is only adding fuel to the fire of gout. Oh! attend we pray you.

We had just written thus far, when Grizzy taps at our door.--"Come in; what do you want now?”

“Nothing at all,” answers Grizzy, somewhat snappishly, “it is only this collection of letters, which Peter the postman handed in. They come to seven shillings and three pence."

“Seven devils and three pence !" returned we very unphilosophically, wish they may be worth half as much. There is the money,” said we, taking the silver from our black silk breeches' pocket, and the three pence from the chimney-piece. “And shut the door after you, burd Grizzy.”

A rare collection, indeed, thinks we to ourself, where the deuce have they all come from. Let us see, said we, adjusting our spectacles. By the powers this resembles the fist of the “ laurel-honouring Laureate.” What was our pleasure, surprise, and gratification, when, on breaking the seal, we found our hopes realised, and read as under.

we

THE BENISON.

KATAPAI, QE KAI TA AAEKYPYONONEOTTA, OIKON AEI OYE

KEN ΕΠΑΝΗΞΑΝ ΕΓΚΑΘΙΣΟΜΕΝΑΙ. .

I laid me down in melancholy mind;

My bosom's grief it foil'd me to gainsay ;
Far off I heard the murmurs of the wind,

The cataracts roaring, and the watch-dogs bay;
And, in a little space, the dews of sleep
Fell on me with an influence calm, but deep.
Methought that on a glorious mount I stray'd,

With tombs and an observatory crown'd;
And, overtopp'd with flag that nobly sway'd,

A monumental pillar huge and round,
Raised to the manes of that naval star,
Whose glory set in blood at Trafalgar.
And, stretching far around, a city lay,

With spires and battlements magnificent,
And castellated domes, that to the day

And open sky their towering summits sent;
With palace old, where nobles made resort,
Where Rizzio died, and Mary held her court.
Methought that then I met a little Man,

With glittering black eye, and with bristling hair ;
Attendant were his sneering, dark divan,

And in the front he stepp'd with haughty air ;
In blue and yellow were the legion clad,
A pert, precise, and domineering squad.
“ Behold his cabbage laurel !” one exclaim'd;

“Look on the renegado," said the next;
“Lo! poor Hexameter all torn and maim'd,”

Yell'd out a third, “ the L. L. D. perplex'd :"
In indignation then I cursed the whole,
And pray'd Destruction's wheels might o'er them roll:

Nor was my prayer in vain; they hobbled on

Short way, and then evanish'd all to smoke;
And, sitting on a purple girded throne,

A more beatic vision on me broke;
The vision of a' veil'd Man, ripe in years,
Sitting elate amid his joyous peers.
Me he beheld, admiring as he ought,

Me, the philologist, historian, bard,
Whom Fame hath to her inner chamber brought,

And crown'd to consummate my labours hard;
Me, whom all after ages must admire,
For bold historic truth, and glowing lyre.
Around that masked man, as I have said,

Sate a great crowd of chosen spirits bright;
Destined the reign of loyalty to spread,

And cheer the land with intellectual light;
No other legion might with that compare,
Men of all arts and sciences were there.

My nobly won supremacy they own'd,

Own'd as they ought to do; and, in return,
Raising my brow with laurel chaplets crown'd,

And feeling in my bosom reverence burn,
I prophesied in sleep :-they gladden'd all,
As on each head the benison did fall.

But, chiefly, on that Veiled Man on high,

Rested my thought; and, forward as I strode,
I fix'd upon his chin my stedfast eye,

And instant felt the workings of the god,
Whose upward boiling inspirations came,

Gushing between my lips, in words of flame.
I condemn every foe

As their master on thee, To the regions below,

And each page of thy book
In torture and toil

Like a talisman be,
There to burn, bake, and boil To enlighten the land,
Through all ages; while thou, And to link them in whole;
When I am no more,

To nerve every hand,
Shall wear on thy brow,

And to strengthen each soul; If the King wishes so,

That Britain may nourish The laurels I wore.

True loyalty's fires; For, none can there be

And liberty flourish, More worthy than thee

In the land of our sires. To sit under that crown,

May the gout, and the radical, That green wreath of renown, Shun thee, and fly thee, Which has come down to me

And state quacks, and medical, From great Spenser and Dryden ; Fear to come nigh thee ! And, of course, goes to thee,

And, may thy bright divan If the flesh you abide in.

Be all true to a man; Whoe'er shall come forth

And oh, may their wit, Against Christopher North

For all purposes fit, Shall have death for his lot;

Never flash in the pan! He shall look like a zany,

May each head be as clear His fears shall be many

As a glass of champaign, As peas in a pot.

And dimness, and dulness ne'er Long, long mayst thou reign

Trouble the brain ! Over science and art;

May they long take their doses, May no arrow of pain

And wag their smart tongues Ever come near thy heart;

At lofty Ambrose's, May the wise ever look

Or gentle Bill Young's!

May coughs and catarrhs

And, sound in the intellects, Be affrighted to steer them;

Fancy, and liver, And gripes, and rheumatics, Keep their youth like the eagles, And other ecstatics,

For ever, and ever !!! Be ashamed to come near them; • Bravo! Laureate, L. L. D. and member of the Royal Spanish Acaderny. Let the paltry dogs bark as they will, but thou art a noble fellow; and, even allowing the hexameters not to be in the best possible taste, there is not a poet living who would not jump, on being called to father the Thalaba, the Madoc, and the Roderic. Long for thee may the butt of sherry run sparkling; may the laurel adorn thy living temples; and may thy enemies find, that “ curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost!"

So, laying thee aside, who is this that comes next ? The hand-writing is truly very neat, and unauthor like. Let us see, said we, it bears the London post-mark. Crack goes the vermilion seal-another poem ! the initials T. C. What, can this be Campbell ? If so, why so diffident, as not write his name at large.

EFFUSION OF FRIENDSHIP.
As, at the sun's uprise, the shades of grey
Shrink from the landscape's breast, and melt away,
Earth feels abroad a renovated glow,
More bright her forests bend, her rivers flow,
And, high in air, when other pipes are mute,
Soars up the lark young morning to salute;
So, when the intellectual sun appears,
The shadowy cloud of ignorance and fears
Disperses momently; and leaves the land,
As by the wave of some enchanter's wand,
Reclaim'd from all the ills of earthly care,
A second Eden, beautiful and fair !

Star of the Northern sky! whose glittering ray
Streams like a host of suns, a milky way;
What other planet rolls, whose powerful shine
Fades not to littleness, compared with thine;
What other glory can with thee compare,
Like Saturn mighty, and like Venus fair!

Hail to thee, North ! in vision'd bliss, I see
Long years of happiness roll on to thee;
And far withdrawing, mellow'd, but sublime,
Thy glowing path along the march of Time!
Lo! o'er wide ocean deep thy powers extend,
And, to thy wisdom, Bramah's children bend;
The quiver's Hindoo, deck'd in gorgeous weeds,
Mid cocoa forests, kindles as he reads;
The giant Patagonian to the sea
Turns many a wistful look, and longs for thee ;
While the dwarf'd Laplander his sledge forsakes,
The ashes of his hearth together rakes,
And, by the dying embers' fitful glow,
Proclaims thee wisest of thy kind below.

Unrivall’d North! when discord was abroad,
Then did'st thou mount thy steed, and take the road;
By thee the plotting crew were overthrown,
And their dark omens on the breezes strown :
When thou must yield—far distant be the hour,
To Time the tyrant's arbitrary power,
Admiring pilgrims from all lands will come,
And, weaving laurel wreaths, adorn thy tomb.

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