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the coffin that contained their affectionate father lowered into the grave: it was peaceful and humble,---but if ever the heart mourned---if ever bystanders entered into the feeling of sorrow such a mournful event occasions, it was over the grave of James the fisherman: --- he had endeared himself to all by his kindness and generosity; and each had some pleasing instance of the one or the other to sob out to his neighbour as they

lingered round: this is the sweetest
requiem that can rise over the ashes
of the wisest and the best.
long and tempestuous night does the
Many a
forlorn Lucy sit upon the beach, and
talk with waves; or, listening to the
breakers' deafening roar---

"Watch the pale moonlight on the
wave,

That ripples by that cheerless grave.”
J. R. W.

LINES TO A LADY.

In Emitation of Wordsworth.

On! can'st thou tel!, when the langour of sleep
O'er thy senses unheeded begins to creep:
When woodbines wildly wreathing shed

Their fragrance around where thy couch is spread :
While the crimson curtain of evening throws
The deepening shade o'er thy sweet repose;
And is heard from afar the wild ocean's roar,
As it bellowing foams o'er the broken shore;
And the herd langs, lowing, on the distant hill ;
When every fluttering breath is still,
But the zephyr, fan'd by cupid's wing,
As he watches over thee slumbering;
Why thou canst not brook the peaceful power
That closes thy lids in that magic hour?
And I will tell thee why I cannot controul
The langour bewitching that seizes my soul:
When glances the light of thy dark, dark eye,
Then cowers beneath my gaze, bashfully:
Why, looking on thee, though without the will,
Howbeit I find that I gaze on thee still.
While those beaming orbs so sweetly shine;
While matchless beauty and youth are thine;
While virtue and truth are dear to me,

O! I shall love to think and to gaze on thee:
And now it remaineth not to tell
Why I look on thee, whom I love so well;
But yet it remaineth to ask of thee

To pardon this, my infirmity ;

And although of my sin I shall never repent,
Save when thy brow shall darken; and then,
Though I weep for the fault, I shall sin again;
There is with my nature such frailty blent.
I leave my future lot to thee,

Dispose of it, therefore, graciously.

ADOLESCENS.

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THE ease and expedition of travelling in this country have long been a source of domestic benefit, and a theme of foreign admiration, In particular, the appointments of our mail coaches excite the attention of every stranger, who is astonished and delighted at the precision, rapidity, and safety, with which he finds himself, by their agency, transported from one extremity of the island to the other.

But for those, also, whose journeys are of a more limited nature, extraordinary facilities have of late years been provided. Among the numerous conveniences with which the metropolis now abounds, there are few of less questionable utility than the short stages, as they are called, which maintain an hourly communication with the neighbouring villages. The number of these vehicles is almost incredible. At one house alone, bearing the elegant name of "The Goose and the Gridiron," above two hundred arrive, and, of course, from the same place as many depart, daily.

The accommodation thus afforded to the public at large, is great; and to several extensive and highly valuable classes of the community it has become indispensible. Clerks in public offices, and the second and third ranks of the mercantile and professional world, who cannot afford to keep their own carriages, or even to incur the regularly returning expense of a hackney chariot, are nevertheless enabled, by means of these humble and cheap conveyances, to enjoy the health and comfort of a country residence. A century or two ago, most of the predecessors of such individuals were compelled, with their families, to live in the City; and to the closeness with which they were packed, the impure air which they constantly breathed, and their want of due exercise, was probably attributable that general dwarfishness of stature, of which the Westend wits of former days availed themselves so unsparingly in their

jokes upon cockney's. A very favourable alteration has, however, taken place in that respect. It is no longer usual to transact business after four or five o'clock. About that hour, persons are to be seen hastening from all quarters, to the back of the Royal Exchange, to Gracechurch-street, to St. Paul's Church-yard, to Charing-cross, or to the White-horse Cellar, thence to be trundled down to a late dinner at Homerton, Blackheath, Hampstead, Clapham, or Hammersmith, and to forget, in the evening blaze of their own fire-side, the various anxieties by which, perhaps, the earlier part of their day has been clouded. It has often been our boast, that a word synonimous to "home" is not to be discovered in any other language than English; and that the social pleasures, the recollection of which is inseparably connected with that endearing expression in the minds of most Englishmen, are no where relished with so much cordiality and glee as in England. How deeply, then, are we indebted to a contrivance, by which the value of home, to those who have one, is so materially enhanced.

Although circumstances do not render the advantage, which I have described, so important to myself as to thousands of my more happy fellow-citizens; although no lovely wife and prattling children bustle to prepare me for my morning departure, or hurry to welcome me on my evening return; although I seem

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information from the occurrence. The majority of passengers by the short stages, while they are purified from the ignorance and from the consequent barbarism of the lowest orders of the people, are not in that condition in which l'usage du monde produces a courteous but insipid monotony, if not of actual, at least of apparent character. Voltaire says, that the English are like a pot of their own porter.-The top is froth; at the bottom are the dregs; the middle is excellent. The simile may be too broad, but there is some truth

in it.

It occasionally affords me no little entertainment, while I listen to the animated discussion that frequently prevails in these "leathern conveniences," to guess the peculiar occupations and habits of those by whom it is carried on. Practice has, I flatter myself, conferred upon me tolerable skill in this respect. I have sometimes been led, by very slight indications, to form conjectures which subsequent enquiry has proved to be well-founded. I have detected a stock-broker, by his remarking, that the barometer "looked up;" a solicitor by his " demurring" to the observations of a gentleman on the opposite seat, and an artist, by his praising the "fine tone of colour" of an iron-grey horse that passed us on the road. Candour, however, compels me to confess, that I now and then commit a little blunder. I once mistook a sheriff's officer for a musician, because he spoke of "bars," and "a good catch;" and just after the death of our late venerable Sovereign, I nearly escaped insulting a young dandy, who talked a great deal about "men and measures," and who, I afterwards understood, was a junior clerk to one of the Under Secretaries of State, by asking him the ready-money-price of a suit of the best French black.

In most short stages, there belongs to every regular set of passengers one person of greater self-importance than the rest, who affects to assume an authoritative tone and manner. This especially occurs, when an individual so pre-disposed, happens to be invested with any of the parochial dignities of his neighbourhood. It is this person who draws up or lets

down the windows. It is this person who rates the coachman for

waiting more than exactly two minutes at the door of a dilatory customer. It is this person who prescribes the precise line of streets through which the stage shall be driven to the place of its destination. Sometimes, his assumption is si lently acquiesced in; sometimes, it is stoutly resisted. More than once, after an absence of several months, I have again taken my station in the narrow arena of a contest of this description, for the sole purpose of gratifying my curiosity, by ascer taining whether, in the interval, the ancient autocrat had been able to maintain his despotism, or whether he had been deposed by a well-concerted and vigorous rebellion.

Another striking characteristic of these vehicles is, the inclination evinced by many of their temporary ofcupants (although seldom on the part of the regular passengers, be tween whom and interlopers there is often much jealousy,) to communicate to utter strangers a thorough knowledge of their own affairs. In passing from Turnham Green to Piccadilly, I have been entertained with every particular of a compli cated and interminable law-suit; and I have had the distance from Leadenhall Street to Limehouse rendered apparently short by an accurate enumeration of the various connexions, down to the fifth cousin, by mar riage, of one whom I had never before seen, and whom I trust it is no breach of Christian charity to pray to Heaven I may never see again.

But it would be gross injustice were I not to repeat that the gratification which I have sometimes experienced on these occasions has much exceeded the annoyance. One of the most delightful incidents that I ever witnessed, and which afforded me a pure and unmixed enjoyment, occurred the other day in the Chelsea stage, at a moment when I was so lucky as to be seated in it.

I have a friend in Sloane Terrace, who is an excellent fellow; and, which is more (to use Dogberry's phraseology) a great reader; and, which is more, a tolerable chess player. Having passed an evening with him in chatting on books, he at

length induced me to sit down to the board; at which, as his custom is, /he checkmated me repeatedly with out mercy. I certainly revenged myself very amply on his sandwiches and liqueurs; but before his hostility and my spirit of retaliation were satiated, it became so late, that I gladly accepted his offer of a sofa and a blanket for the night.

As I had an affair of some importance in town next morning, I determined to go by the nine o'clock stage; at the office for which my friend's servant accordingly booked a place, and I was punctually called for at the proper hour. In the coach I found two gentlemen, who I have no doubt belonged to one of the respectable classes to which I have already alluded, and were on their way to their daily employment. By the time that we had determined that it threatened rain, had predicted what would be the amount of the subscription for the distressed Irish, and had supposed that Parliament would not be prorogued until the the latter end of July, the coach arrived at the junction of Sloane-street with Knightsbridge; and the coachman hastily drew up, in order to admit a lady who was there, awaiting his approach, but whom he did not appear at all to know. She saluted us with much civility. Her age seemed to be about five and forty. She was rather en bon point. Her countenance was intelligent, and, if not handsome, (of which I will not be sure) possessed an expression of mingled sweetness and frankness which in my opinion is peculiar to our countrywomen. Conversation, which this little stoppage had interrupted, was resumed, but the topic was again changed.

"I wonder," exclaimed one of my male companions, "what has become of that young lady as we used to take up here, and sit down at the bottom of Chancery Lane ?"

"I can't guess," replied the other. "She came for a long time very regular; but she has not been with us for a fortnight."

"It's a great loss. She was always so chatty and pleasant."

"Yes; and very diffident too;that's what I call properly diffident; -not sheepish or shame-faced."

"O! not a bit. Just what a young woman should be. Do you remember how, by two or three quiet words she confounded the spark as kept staring her in the eyes one day, 'till I was going to say something to him which he would not have liked, only she saw what I was about, and spoke herself, to prevent what she thought might be mischief?"

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Aye; and do you recollect that snowy morning last November, when, thongh the coach was crammed, she begged that the poor little child of a soldier's wife outside might be taken in, and all I could do, insisted on carrying it, wet as it was, in her own lap ?"

"Yes; she was a good creature, and very pretty into the bargain. Every body liked her. Even Sam the coachman, when he let down or put up the steps for her seemed to do it with a half smile; though I think he's about the gruffest fellow as I ever saw. I should like amazingly to know what is become of her.'

"So should I. But with her disposition, she's sure to be uncommon happy, go where she may."

Towards the close of the above dialogue my eye happened to glance on our female fellow-passenger, and was suddenly arrested by observing that her fine face was lighted up with no ordinary emotion, which she vainly endeavoured to suppress, but which at length she succeeded in checking so far as to hide it from any scrutiny but that of a physiognomist. I have already owned my vanity on that score. Of course, I immediately set about divining the cause of the appearance I had noticed. Many sagacious conclusions did I draw; but they all fell far short of the affecting truth, told with great simplicity by the lady herself, as she was preparing to leave us in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.

"Gentlemen," said she, with the most gracious smile conceivable, "I cannot wish you farewell, without thanking you for your very handsome praises of my daughter? She is indeed an excellent girl, and deserves your good opinion." Her eyes filled with tears, and she made a short pause. "I am sure you have

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HIE thee, Silvestre, to the arsenal;
Minutely note its yet remaining store;
See to La Jonquire this despatch convey'd,
And in thy way bid Jervais to me.-Speed.

O! direful strait!-Hedg'd in betwixt two evils;
Set at the point of two diverging paths;

Forc'd to choose one, yet fearful each were wrong.
The people's clamour is capitulation,
While 'fore the stern inexorable King

My head would answer my too-ready yielding.
Would I were

Supreme in power, or but obedient to it.

Great heaven, direct me in my dread resolve ;

And which were best, to farther push the siege,
Or, by surrendermênt-

Enter RODERIGO.

Rod. Surrenderment! Who names surrenderment?
Succour at hand, and victory in view;

Look not deject, good Governor, nor shrink

Conquest's red arm up with thy icy fears;

Many a lusty hand's among our troops;

Many a heart zealous and brave as mine;

This one day's truce hath made new men of them.
Alm. Alas! How old art thou, Roderigo?
Rod. Just turn'd eighteen, my Lord.
Alm. O! Age of happy inexperience!

Who'd not exchange the sage's vastest wisdom,
For the delusive hope of simplest youth?

I've counted twice thy years, young man, and time
Hath taught me to mistrust.

Our bold attempt

To hold communion with the Spanish ship,

Hath fail'd, and he, trust-worthy, faithful Leon,
Made captive. Boy, these things are hard against us

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