Elliston. Still, under the present proprietor, | very fairest visitors with the same opinions | vidual of considerable talent, and consethere is now and then a good piece; he has upon their merits as we now transfer to our quently there exists no necessity for gather also two or three good actors : and yet what pages; where, in all truth, they are only | ing laurels from another name. The cuts in is the Surrey to that which it might be? inserted in fairness to the publishers, who the Offering are good, and the poems in some cases witty: the following is one of the best. The Coburg is, among other theatres, have thought proper to send them for our what the fire-eater is among other exhibitors review. in a fair. The audience and the management are worthy of each other. Its situation, being in the most filthy part of town, must, for a long time, operate against its civili zation. First comes the "Landscape," with its dark green binding and smooth gilt edges; a pretty book in its exterior, and lovelier stil! in its illustrations. The fine, varied, and luxuriant scenery of Italy, with its sun, and sky, and mountains, and of Switzerland, "THE SIGHS AND LAMENTATIONS OF PATRICK O'DERMODY, OF BALLYNAKILLY, COUNTY KILLDARE. By the Author of Absurdities. Och! hone! it's meself that's unhappy and lost! My head's in a mist; To that sergeant wid blarney, who first my hand cross'd, O! why did I 'list? Astley's stands, in attraction, by itself, doctrine of classification. Horses would not do, mixed up with "Victorine," or " Olympic Devils:" by themselves, they flourish. Sadler's Wells has of late been improving. Under the management of Mr. Dixon, of the Horse Repository, it smacked of the stable: passed into the hands of Mrs. Fitzwilliam, and has become visitable. The Pavilion is a flourishing concern. Its ware is, certainly, not of the highest kind. The manager has doubtless heard of the inutility of casting certain valuables before certain animals, and therefore hoards his pearls. All these theatres, more or less, distance in prosperity the two patent houses, the size associations with the memory of Tell; alto- When my mouth is wide open, and cravin' for meat, The Friendship's Offering is this year nearly the best of the lot of Christmas gifts, Says the sergeant, Here, Paddy, I'll give you a of which, and the magnitude of whose com However, the tables are to be turned : Opera is to take her turn, and support all the rest. The German company are about to appear; and for which reason,-mark, gentle reader, for which excellent reason, a new tragedy, called "Ethelgiva," presented by Mr. Serle at Drury lane, although admired and owned by the management to be a great play,' cannot be represented! 66 Thus is the national drama to be put out by THE ROSE. From the Poems of Bernis. Yet stay, one little moment stay; Yet go, my lady's lip thou'lt see, Too happy Rose! But, if thou breathe her lips' perfume, an extinguisher imported from Vienna: and The illustrations are very beautiful. by the saucy minors! The Annuals. THESE little variations upon taste, in pen ning, painting, printing, and binding, which our booksellers ho'd out annually to tempt fond parents, and still fonder lovers, to give as truth and memory tokens to the Daphnes, and Chloes, and Delias, and Amyntas of fairfavoured Britain, would have been passed unnoticed by our rudeness, if we had not been told that our library table looked unusnally elegant, and favored by one of our treat,' Though I do all my best, and I cannot do more, I never can please; How can they, when I am with travelling sore, E'er make me stand at ease!' Och! sure, and it's thrue that the poltroons do mane For, early and late, I'm turned out on the plain, And-bored with a drill!" We have no space to go on with the remaining stock of the very numerous progeny of Annuals till next week: they infringe too much upon our novelties, Kidd's Picturesque Pocket Companion to ONE of those little gems of art in which Mr. general and fashionable resort, that the little book will be a welcome visitor to some thousands. In the account given of the early history of Brighton we find the following incident: the drollery of the "Comic Offering." This Maunsell, at Ovingdean, by Lord Wilmot and Colonel Gunter. Here the king lay concealed for a few day, as local tradition still relates, within a false wall or partition, while his friends were contriving the best means for his escape to France. Among the mariners at Brighton, they considered the most eligible person for their purpose was Nicholas Tattersal, master of a coal brig then moored before the town; and the event proved they had not made a wrong estimate of his resolution and integrity. The evening of the 14th of October was fixed on for their departure. Soon after nightfall the king was conducted by his host over the hills from Ovindean, and in his wonted disguise, entered a little inn, then called the George, but now the King's Head, in West Street, where he and his companions were to wait But than one of the occasional anecdotes, as well The Dramatic Library, with Remarks, Daniel. Vol. I. 18mo. T. Hurst. has been our Christian purpose: we have succeeded. Professor Porson, in dressing out his devil king, accommodated his Sunday inexpressibles with a "hole behind for his tail to come through :" by the same rule, our juvenile imp shall now his tail unfold. RISE, LONDON FUNDS. When Stocks have gone down with the city's rich brokers, My father was a stockbroker. lying on my mother's knee, (for my mother had knees, which I suppose was very vulgar,) I was first awakened to consciousness by THE design of this work (which is to ap-hearing my father sing a parody on Barnett's pear in monthly volumes,) is to blend the "Rise, gentle Moon." "elder with the modelu drama;" and the editor has fulfilled his intention in the present number by selecting the Second Part of Henry IV., Hamlet, The Lord of the for Tattersal's notice for embarkation. Manor, Doctor Bolus, The School for to their great surprise and alarm, the ma-ter Scandal, Comfortable Lodgings, Rienzi, and of the house, whose name was Smith, plaiuly Modern Antiques; to each of which is 'Twas in the morn they began speculating, indicated by his behaviour that he recollected affixed a spirited sketch of the most promi-Ever since then stocks have been fluctuating: the king's person. He, however, promised nent scene of each play, from designs by Let the mails come in, and the cash chink a ditty, and observed the most honorable secrecy. R. Cruikshank; in addition to which, an Tattersal entered the room soon after, and engraved Portrait of Dowton, as Falstaff, is The London funds, however, would not rise, in like manner instantly recognized his dis-given as a frontispiece, accompanied by a guised sovereign. His brig having, a few concise but interesting memoir of that cele- and my father failed. By his failure he years before, been detained by a royal squa brated veteran of the histrionic art. The made five hundred pounds, and with that he dron in the Downs, on her way from New-editor very judiciously remarks, in his Pre- started a ginshop: here, while serving out castle, she was released by order of Charles face, alluding to the "elder and modern himself, then Prince of Wales; nor did his drama," that we must not too fastidiously blue ruin, I became acquainted with a printer features seem to have made a deeper im-reject the latter, because the transcendant of Holywell street; he used to print the bills for the fancy, and one day came into our bar with a broken nose, singing, pression on the mind of Tattersall than that merits of the ancient school would seem to As a republication of the most interesting A SWEET little book for children, and one CONFESSIONS OF A DEVIL! That is the song of all songs for the city! I'VE BEEN ROAMING. I've been roaming, I've been roaming I've been spilling, I've been spilling And with milling, and with milling, I've been laughing, I've been laughing Now he's chaffing, now he's chaffing And I'm coming, and I'm coming So, you know, I gave him the gin, and he really adapted for their holiday reading. We A DEVIL, reader!—not a prince of darkness, Well, sir, in my devil capacity, I have recollect two or three other works for the made visible,-not one of the infant progeny visited all the great writers of the day for juvenile community, which have emanated of Beelzebub,-not a descendant of the au- copy. I remember calling on Liston Bulwer, from Mrs. Bayley's pen: Employment,' the True Source of Happiness, to which Im-cient family, whose ancestor was on the eve when he wrote for the Crim. Con. Gazette, provement' is published as a companion, met of plucking crabs out of Paradise,- but a and Jack Mitford was editor. Poor Jack! with the highest favour; and Tales of the child of other birthright, and begetting-one he was a better man than Bully; but he's Heath' was also a clever and amusing volume. Of the three, however, Improvement' is whose black mug and grimy features, putting dead now! I was for two years with one of perhaps the best; indeed it is an improve-your sensibility to the proof, sufficiently be- Colburn's master-printers, and used to go to all his authors: Lady Morgan, (poor ment! It abounds in pious feelings and speak him to be the Printer's own! moral lessons, combined with general and One of this tribe have we taken into our wretch!) she was very impudent to useful information, put in the most pleasin service, and under a good master he must devils; but I paid her off: I laid the ink and delightful form. The introduction of knowledge into a pretty simple narrative is, have studied before. To make the fellow's over the advertisement forms that set her up indeed, most ingeniously contrived; and there prattling tongue confess to our absolving at half-price! Soon after this, my master is something touching and earnest in more Editorship all his former sins and adventures failed, and his attorney (damn him!) came us and crowed over him with a song. You | Around thee shall glisten a thousand bright fishes, 1. You speak the truth, 2. You tell a lie. 1. You're sure to live, 2. You're sure to die. and so on. [We here paused to inform our devil, that what he was saying was libellous; but he re tion, we might give up his name. It is only fair, however, to tell Mr. Patmore that our devil is a dead duellist, and goes in the office by the nickname (all devils have nick names) of ancient Pistol!] And perchance you may find when you look in your Nor shall Jack, the beloved of the ocean, forget thee, Embalmed in the innermost shrine of his grog; And if ever I get safe to Trincomalee I'll fill up a bumper of brandy and water, ORIGINAL PAPERS. THE APOCALYPSE. AN AUTOBIOGRAPHIC TALE. BY JOHN GALT, ESQ. repair, was refurnished in a style of elegance When completed, that became his fortune. he informed me by letter, for it was distant from this place, that he intended to marry; and, after naming his bride, who was fair and irreproachable, he invited me to be present, very pressingly, at the nuptials. My sequestered way of life might have furnished me with an excuse for declining his kindness, but there was an earnest solicitation in the request that I could not resist, and accordingly, at the time appointed, I went to S**** Hall. On my arrival there, which was the evening of a cloudy and ungracious winter's day, I found that he had gone to a meeting of the county magistrates in a neighbouring town, and that it was doubtful if he would return from it that night, as he was on horseback and the weather showery and unpropitions. The servants, however, to whom my name was familiar, did all in their power to make me comfortable, in the absence of their master. Dinner was served for me in the principal dining room, a splendid apartment, newly furnished in the most fashionable taste. To a series of family portraits, there was a mirror over the mantle-piece which reached to the ceiling, from a low arched fire-place, something in a style that reminded me of a tomb. How the idea of this entered my head cannot be explained; for all around me was festal, and calculated to excite ideas of revelry and enjoyment. After dinner, being alone, I drew towards the fire, and requested one of the servants to bring me a book, as I was always moderate my use of wine. When I had received the book, I moved my chair so close to the fire that I rested my feet on the fender, and, with a drowsy carelessness, opened the volume, and found it however, brief, but it was well written; and over the tragical event, which I had never forgotten, a veil of sentiment was drawn that revealed it with such softness of expression that I was deeply affected. Inheriting, from a long line of honourable ancestors, au opulent fortune, he made the world a scene of benevolence around him;-in all his habits being domestic, he married, at an early period of life, a lady who was the counterpart of himself; she was beautiful and good, and their promise of felicity was plied, that if Mr. Patmore wanted satisfac-as unbounded as their love. But, before the an old magazine of the year in which my honeymoon was well over, to the astonish-friend died. The circumstance struck me ment of all his friends, he suddenly com- at the moment, and I looked for some account mitted suicide. No cause of the rash act of his unhappy end in the obituary; nor was was ever discovered, nor did any premonish-I disappointed. The biographical notice was, ment prepare those that were around him to expect such an issue of a virtuous life. The effects of the shock dwelt upon my Our little impling would have continued, heart for many years; but of that I shall not had we not warned him that he was forget-speak. His lady, in the course of little more ting that there are always sticks in a compo- than eight months from his death, became I laid the book on the table, and, lying sitor's office, and that a beating might reward the mother of a boy, and then died. During back in my chair, indulged myself in sad and her maternity, she never ceased to feel her-pensive reveries. The recollection of all his delay. Taking this hint, he placed in our self a lonely widow; but the child she gave the delights that had perished with my friend hands the last production of the author of to the world seemed as if it had been nou- returned upon me, and it is impossible to Eugene Aram, and then departed with his rished by her strength. It was a thriving describe the grief and feeling with which I copy. The Pelham contribution is an imita-infant; but her health was so decayed, that was at that time affected. tion of Moore's ballad, Farewell to thee, Araby's daughter,' and is in the usual refined style of its Siamese author. The hero and heroine, are supposed to be Lord Nelson and Lady Coulouly.- Le voici. she did not survive the birth. From old partialities which I was known to cherish for the father, the young Sir Robert was committed by his relations entirely to my care. I had no finer example to model him by than his deceased father, and he grew to manhood all that I could desire. When he attained the age of twentyone he took possession of his affluent inheFarewell! ah, farewell to thee-Billingsgate daughter ritance; the house, which had been shut BALLAD. (Thus warbled a tar, bound for Trincomalee!) No crab ever crawled under ocean's green water More neat in its shell than the spirit in thee, up from the death of his mother, was re- I saw Around me all in the room was still, and there was a mournful voice in the trees on the outside that could not be heard without awe. In the spacious mirror before me the gorgeous apartment was reflected. the lights upon my table were inadequate to bring its splendour into full view, but they was enough to impress me with its grandeur, and the silence of the portraits which decorated the walls made the scene sublime. I looked into the mirror with an obscure feeling of awe. The death of the first Sir Robert, my friend, filled my fancy with strange imaginings, and something like a supernatural dread fell upon me: at that moment I saw in the glass the door of the apartment open behind me, and a female enter; she was dressed in white, and her face was veiled; her hands were crossed on her bosom, and she was unlike a being of this world, and yet so like, that her appearance awakened no apprehension that she belonged to another. She came towards me, and I expected her to speak, but she passed by about two yards from the place where I was sitting, and then disappeared; she did not vanish nor at the moment give me any impression of a spiritual evasion, but only suddenly disappeared; yet I was sure she had not left the room, the door of which was still standing open, as I saw in the mirror. Presently another female entered, and she bore in her arms the veiled likeness of a child; her appearance was not greatly different to that which had escaped my vision, but still she was not the same, and her dress was different; she passed, I would almost say, exactly on the line which her predecessor had taken, and in approaching towards me she raised her hand and waved to me as if she beckoned me to depart. But I could only gaze at the mute apparition, while I felt unable to speak; she then turned away, and on the same spot where the other disappeared, she also unaccountably escaped my view. I was considerably disturbed by this second sight, and would have called the servants to inquire in what way I was so deceived, when, happening to look again in the glass, I saw beyond the room-door, a strange dim light, and a third female standing erect, with her back towards it; I beheld her transparent dress and upraised arms between me and the light, bnt, unlike the one who had preceded her, she was alone. In every other respect, however, her motions towards me were similar, but, as she approached, her extended arms were drawn down, and she passed along with a floating air, as if she trode not upon the earth; and on the same spot where the other two were seen no more, she vanished. All this, so well calculated to fill me with wonder and awe, was increased in its effects by a number of figures, which, as soundless as shadows, also came in, bearing a coffin without a lid: they advanced towards me, and I again essayed to speak, but just as I opened my lips the figure of my young friend, whose marriage I had come to celebrate, rose up pale-and ghastly, and pointed with his hand, on which was a common dead man's glove, towards the spot where the three mysterious semblances of the female sex passed from my riew. It is not easy to describe what I felt: a stupor fell upon me, which lasted for some time, and then I was roused from the lethargy by a servant placing the tea-things on the table beside me. I said nothing to him of what I had seen, but when he withdrew I endeavoured to ascertain if I had not been dreaming; and to Well may I recollect that sad event; but what shall I say of the apocalypse that was made to me? it was a pageant of prospective things, and I have never ceased to say to myself RECOLLECTIONS OF HOLYROOD. this day, if I were ordered to tell my belief | "Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer cloud, A SHADOW. By the Author of "Corn-Law Rhymes." Where sky and mountain meet, And heard his strong heart beat. His dark unutter'd thought. Pray'd mutely to the skies: He scorch'd me with his eyes. I stood the storm before: We trode the desert floor. The whirlwind's dwelling place, E'en where my feet had trod; And shook its hand at Ged. Beneath the lightning's blaze: Bring back my yesterdays." I stood with God in light. The attachment of Henry and his sister for Madame la Dauphine is inexpressible; they endeavour by their caresses if not to console, at least turn her thoughts from her irreparable misfortunes. The eyes of Madame are sometimes fixed upon these children with the expression of the tenderest of mothers; she smiles at their games, and sometimes even shares them: these are the only pleasures she can feel on a globe where she has shed so many tears! We have said that the love of France is the warmest sentiment of Henry; this he shews in a thousand different ways. This, and the love of glory, is the worship which 66 he has vowed to his country; and when we see him in this land of exile, we feel that no prince deserves so well the title of Child of France, than him who received it at his birth. One night, in the ardour of relations of combats and victories, he asked me if I had seen the arsenal of London." "Yes," said I," and if you one day visit it, you will feel the greatest grief in seeing two French cannon which are there; they were taken from us at the battle of Cressy." "French cannons in London!" he exclaimed, "I will not see them, I will not go to the arsenal; but, if there was war, if the Euglish were to bring our cannons on the field, we would retake them it is our duty. French cannons in London!" repeated he;" yes, if ever there is a war, we shall retake them!" And his looks were full of fire; you would have supposed he was at the head of an army. All his recollections of national glory are for ever present in his imagination; he loves to relate the battles where the French dis tinguished themselves by their valour. He is delighted when he speaks of our victories, and sad when he hears of the reverses we have suffered; he would have them effaced from his memory. Of all the reigns of the kings of France, the one which pleases him most of all is that of Henry IV.; on the mention of Argues and d'Iori, his countenance is all fire and animation. know, and we therefore feel a deep—an un- little inconvenience from his deafness; the PITY. A Fragment.-By the Rev. LISLE BOWLES. Were it not that in the heat of discussion, or the fervour of debate, much is said that the speaker would afterwards wish had been left unuttered, and that it is not customary to offer the emanations of truth to the higher powers, without some softening down, his Majesty might avail himself of the services I heard his voice in the faint breeze Alas! the voice is gone! cabinet-we mean not ministerial-in St. James's, occasionally amuse or inform him And I only hear the surge, heart-broken and self by uncapping the House of Commons' alone. to the sound of waters I may sleep. I wake to memory and to woe, SCIENCE AND ART. EXHIBITIONS. tube; anou turning an attentive ear to the more ornamented pipe of the House of Peers; Although the art of steel engraving has not been introduced many years, yet we believe that the beautiful process of transfer, by which alone it can be rendered fully available, is not generally known or understood. Some of the most beautiful and highly finished engravings of the present day are produced by the exercise of this inven tion; to effect which a steel plate is softened to such a state of ductility as to permit the engraver to use the finest tools, with the same ease as if he were engaged on a copper elongated horse-shoe, and surrounded with plate. When the design is finished, the plate systematic reduplications of copper wire, of is hardened by carbonization, and is then not which there are ten series, each containing only available to the production of a hundred ninety feet. The commencing extremities of times as many impressions as a copper plate the wire are all soldered to one piece of would yield, but also becomes the means of greater thickness, and the terminating extre-forming other plates, almost ad infinitum, mities to another, which two, being brought by transfer of the subject. This transfer is into communication with the metallic ele-made by passing a cylindrical piece of softened The above are some of the striking charac teristics of Henry. We have related the National Gallery of Practical Science. truth, for we are iucapable of flattering mis- CONTINUING our notice of this useful and fortune, but in a time of party spirit; and instructive exhibition, we must now direct these times are sad, for misfortunes do not the attention of our readers to a very powerdisarm hatred. There are some men who ful Electro-magnet, by Mr. J. Marsh; which have dared to slander an infant; this is a is a bar of soft iron, of about thirty-four crime which I thought was unknown. Slan-pounds weight, bent into the form of an dering an infant is an outrage against heaven. Whoever they may be, I would entreat them to come and see the infant whom they have outraged, and I will defy them, when they have seen him, to maintain their opinions. The child who was called the Child of France has become the child of exile. Those who have banished him from his country may be convinced that he feels, with all its bitter-ments of a small voltaic battery, afford the ness, the punishment inflicted on him. means of transmitting an electric current They have broken the crown on his head, through the whole series of wires; and they have deprived him of those rights en- makes the soft iron, or horse-shoe, a very joyed by every Frenchman; but there is one powerful temporary magnet, which we have gift bestowed by heaven, of which they can-seen sustain a weight of upwards of six hunnot deprive him-a French heart; which was dred pounds. When the connexion between born with him, and which he will preserve the wire and the battery is broken, the in spite of all changes, which he will pre-magnetic power immediately ceases. serve as long as he has a drop of blood in his veins. At night I was present at the prayer of the child of exile. His prayer was short but fervent; yes, it was fervent, for he prayed for France; and they were expressions of love, which rose from earth to heaven! And when France is overwhelmed with misfortunes, who knows if the blood of his father, offered by innocence in expiation of too many crimes, may not turn aside the wrath of heaven? What is to be the fate of the child of France, of the child whose birth was hailed with so many expressious of love? Fate sports with the decrees of men, too often the expressions of powerless fury: this we We have been particular in describing this magnet, not because there is anything novel in the arrangement, but because we believe it to be the most powerful that has been exhibited in this country. Of the science of acoustics there appears to be much yet to learn, and in its illustration there is but one model in the gallery. This is au Acoustic Chair, by Mr. J. H. Curtis, the aurist, which, by an arrangement of tubes that are hidden by the covering of the chair, will enable a person whose sense of hearing is impaired, to sit in a comfortable position, and have the sound couveyed to him in such a manner that he will feel but | steel over the hardened plate, with a pressure sufficient to give it a complete impression in relievo; and this cylinder, being hardened, is then used to transfer the subject to any required number of plates, which plates may be used, by a similar process, in endless reproduction! It is to Mr. Jacob Perkins that we are also indebted for this beautiful invention. Perhaps one of the prettiest illustrations in the gallery, is that of the principle of the diving-bell; which is shown by the immersion of a mouse, which is confined in a turnspitwheel, in a small glass case, into a larger one filled with water. The apparatus is so contrived, that the little prisoner, in turning his unsteady habitation, with the action of a squirrel, keeps at work the piston of a cylin der that supplies him with air. The mouse being immersed several inches under the surface of the water, some gold fish that are re ||tained in it are occasionally seen swimming around and above the little creature that is so actively employed within, |