awkward, old-fashioned crutch and pummel, and from a stirrup, into which a little foot, when it has once crept like a mouse, finds itself caught as in a trap of singular construction, and difficult to open for releasement. You feel that all you love in the world is indeed fully, freshly, and warmly in your arms, nor can you bear to set the treasure down on the rough stony road, but look round, and round, and round, for a soft spot, which you finally prophesy at some distance up the hill, whitherwards, in spite of pouting Yea and Nay, you persist in carrying her whose head is erelong to lie in your tranquil bosom."

We feel, however, that quotations are multipyling upon us, while our limits are fast contracting. And therefore, with the single observation, that the two papers which are to us the least agreeable in these volumes are the "Holy Child" and the tale entitled "Expiation," (the latter, indeed, producing in us a sensation of discomfort and pain rather than pleasure,) let us close our extracts with a passage from the touching and beautiful "L'Envoy," with which these volumes conclude:

"Since first this Golden Pen of ours—given us by One who meant it but for a memorial-began, many years ago, to let drop on paper a few careless words, what quires so distained-some pages, let us hope, with durable ink--have accumulated on our hands! Some haughty ones have chosen to say rather, how many leaves have been wafted away to wither? But not a few of the gifted-near and afar-have called on us with other voices-reminding us that long ago we were elected, on sight of our credentials--not indeed without a few black balls-into the Brotherhood. The shelf marked with our initials exhibits some half-dozen volumes only, and has room for scores. It may not be easily found in that vast Library; but humble member as we are, we feel it now to be a point of honor to make an occasional contribution to the Club. So here is the FIRST SERIES of what we have chosen to call our RECREATIONS. There have been much recasting and remoulding-many alterations, believed by us to have been wrought with no unskilful spirit of change-cruel, we confess, to our feelings, rejections of numerous lucubrations to their father dear-and if we may use such words, not a few new creations, in the same genial spirit in which we worked of old--not always unrewarded by sympathy, which is better than praise.

"For kindness shown when kindness was most needed for sympathy and affection-yea, love itself-for grief and pity not misplaced, though bestowed in a mistaken belief of our condition, forlorn indeed, but not wholly forlorn-for solace and encouragement sent to us from afar, from cities and solitudes, and from beyond seas and oceans, from brethren who never saw our face, and never may see it, we owe a debt of everlasting gratitude; and life itself must leave our heart, that beats not now as it used to beat, but with dismal trepidation, before it forget, or cease to remember as clearly as now it hears them, every one of the many words that came sweetly and

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solemnly to us from the Great and Good. Joy and sorrow make up the lot of our mortal estate, and by sympathy with them, we acknowledge our brotherhood with all our kind. We do far more. The strength that is untasked, lends itself to divide the load under which another is bowed; and the calamity that lies on the heads of men is lightened, while those who at the time are not called to bear, are yet willing to involve themselves in the sorrow of a brother. So soothed by such sympathy may a poor mortal be, that the wretch almost upbraids himself for transient gleams of gladness, as if he were false to the sorrow which he sighs to think he ought to have cherished more sacredly within his miserable heart.

"One word embraces all these pages of ours -Memorials. Friends are lost to us by removal for then even the dearest are often utterly forgotten. But let something that once was theirs suddenly meet our eyes, and in a moment, returning from the region of the rising or the setting sun, the friend of our youth seems at our side, unchanged his voice and his smile; or dearer to our eyes than ever, because of some affecting change wrought on face and figure by climate and by years. Let it be but his name written with his own hand on the title-page of a book; or a few syllables on the margin of a favorite passage which long ago we may have read together, "when life itself was new," and poetry overflowed the whole world; or a lock of her hair in whose eyes we first knew the meaning of the word "depth." And if death had stretched out the absence into the dim arms of eternity-and removed the distance away into that bourne from which no traveller returns-the absence and the distance of her on whose forehead once hung the relic we adore-what heart may abide the beauty of the ghost that doth sometimes at midnight appear at our sleepless bed, and with pale uplifted arms waft over us at once a blessing and a farewell!

"Why so sad a word-Farewell? We should not weep in wishing welfare, nor sully felicity with tears. But we do weep because evil lies lurking in wait over all the earth for the innocent and the good, the happy and the beautiful; and, when guarded no more by our eyes, it seems as if the demon would leap out upon his prey. Or is it because we are so selfish that we cannot bear the thought of losing the sight of the happiness of a beloved object, and are troubled with a strange jealousy of beings unknown to us, and for ever to be unknown, about to be taken into the very heart, perhaps, of the friend from whom we are parting, and to whom in that fear we give almost a sullen farewell? Or does the shadow of death pass over us while we stand for the last time together on the sea-shore, and see the ship with all her sails about to voyage away to the uttermost parts of the earth? Or do we shudder at the thought of mutability in all created things-and know that ere a few suns shall have brightened the path of the swift vessel on the sea, we shall be dimly remembered at last forgotten-and all those days, months, and years that once seemed eternal, swallowed up in everlasting oblivion?

"With us all ambitious desires some years

ago expired. Far rather would we read than write now-a-days-far rather than read, sit with shut eyes and no book in the room-far rather than to sit, walk about alone any where

"Beneath the unbrage deep

That shades the silent world of memory." Shall we live? or "like beasts and common people die?" There is something harsh and grating in the collocation of these words of the "Melancholy Cowley ;" yet he meant no harm, for he was a kind, good creature as ever was born, and a true genius. He there has expressed concisely, but too abruptly, the mere fact of their falling alike and together into oblivion. Far better Gray's exquisite words,

THE OPENING OF PARLIAMENT.

From Punch, or the London Charivari.

Ar an early hour on the 1st of February, the Lord Chancellor took the Great Seal out of the inkstand-(of pantomimic dimensions)-in which it is usually kept, and the Mace, which had been given out over-night to the butler to be rubbed up with whitening and leather, was put at his Lordship's door-with his boots-) into one of which it was carefully thrust) and the shaving water. The Archbishop of Canterbury's lawn sleeves had been clearstarched, ironed "On some fond breast the parting soul relies!" out, and neatly got up by one of the preThe reliance is firm and sure; the "fond breast" late's femaled omestics; and the state mitre is faithful to its trust, and dying transmits it to having been taken out of the silver paper another; till after two or three transmissions, which usually envelopes it, was dusted with holy all, but fainter and dimmer, the pious tradi-a tender hand under the immediate inspection dies, and all memorial of the love and the delight, the pity and the sorrow, is swallowed up in vacant night.

"Posthumous Fame! Proud words-yet may they be uttered in a humble spirit. The common lot of man is, after death --oblivion. Yet genius, however small its sphere, if conversant with the conditions of the human heart, may vivify with indestructible life some happy delineations, that shall continue to be held dear by successive sorrowers in this vale of tears. If the name of the delineator continue to have something sacred in its sound-obscure to the many as it may be, or non-existent-the hope of such posthumous fame is sufficient to one who overrates not his own endowments. And as the hope has its root in love and sympathy, he who by his writings has inspired towards himself when in life, some of these feelings in the hearts of not a few who never saw his face, seems to be justified in believing that even after final obliteration of Hic jacet from his tombstone, his memory will be regarded with something of the same affection in his REMAINS."

RAPHAEL.

BY THE HON. JULIA AUGUSTA MAYNARD.

From Ainsworth's Magazine.

On the death of this great Painter, his body lay in state in the Pantheon, at Rome, and his last and noblest work, the "Transfiguration," was placed at his head.

THE hand is cold which shadow'd forth
The spirit's soft creation;
One parting gift remains to earth-

That bright Transfiguration !"
And who can view the sainted smile
Of yon Redeemer's eye,
Nor feel within his heart the while
Its calm divinity?

In thee the art, oh! Raphael, reign'd,
Eloquently to express
Seraphic forms, on earth detain'd,
Of perfect loveliness!

tion of one of the family. Black Rod personally got up at six, in order to fill in with rather rubbed by wear from the wand of ofink the places where the black had become fice, and that active functionary was employed for a quarter of an hour in polishing with the inside of an old kid-glove the bit of metal at the top of the rod alluded to.

made on all hands, the dignitaries forming These state preparations having been the Commission for opening Parliament drove in their own carriages to the House, while Black Rod left his lodgings in the suburbs, with his wand of office under his mackintosh, and having popped into a cab, when he got into the more public thoroughfares, he drove up in becoming style to the door of the Commons. Having bargained about and paid the fare at the stand where the cab was taken, he was enabled to walk smack into the House, without stopping to squabble and settle with the driver-a proceeding which would have materially interfered with that dignity which it is the aim of Black Rod on all occasions to be careful of. The preparations within the House of Parliament had been on the most extensive scale. Soap, both yellow and mottled, had been given out with a profusion that might be fairly called reckless, and several yards of house flannel had been for the last week placed in the hands of an efficient corps of cleaners and charwomen. The final dusting and the last round of the Turk's-head broom into the corners of the ceiling had scarcely been accomplished when the carriages of the members began to set down, and the Lords Commissioners having soon afterwards arrived, all was excitement to hear the Speech of her Majesty. The Chancellor in the anteroom gave afinal shake to take out the creases in his robes, the Archbishop of Canter

you

bury pulled out his lawn sleeves, from which | Now Gents of the Commons-tis time to implore the damp had unfortunately taken out the To do the thing handsomely when we before you starch; and having inflated his mitre, by Of expenses the usual estimates lay, blowing into it, to make it stick well up, the 'Tis your glorious privilege always to pay. whole party entered the House of Lords; My lords and good gentlemen 'tis a sad bore and the Chancellor having taken his seat And it certainly needs no particular gumption To admit that the revenue's worse than before, on the wool mattrass, the other commis- To find out the cause in diminished consumption; sioners fell into the rear, at the foot of the But still it's consoling to think that e'en yet, throne. We had forgotten to state that the of the tax upon Incomes we've plenty to get; Duke of Buccleugh, as privy seal, wore only Our purse will we hope be sufficiently full. So when on the public we 've had a good pull, an ordinary brecquet, which looked less like Her Majesty wishes her thanks to pour forth, privy seal than privy watch-key. For the splendid reception she got in the North; The provost she thinks it may safely be said, Of a city of cakes is the properest head. Her Majesty also regrets that last year Disturbances did in some districts appear; The law was however at once put in force, Hungry folks ought to keep very quiet of course. We are by Her Majesty ordered to say, We purpose amendment in something-some day; Begin your debates then, and may you succeed, In doing for England, what England may need; Prove good"-and, PUNCH wishes the people may Whatever you do for the people, oh let it

During the interval which occurred while Rod was gone to whip up the Commons, the Chancellor wiped his glasses, cleared his throat, and pulled his wig a little to the back of his head; for, somehow or other, it had worked its way rather too far down on his forehead.

The Commons having rushed in pel-mel, with a clattering of feet, amongst which we could distinctly trace the heavy tread of Mr. Hume's highlows, the Lord Chancellor read nearly as follows. We prefer throwing the Speech into verse, being determined to give it the benefit of a little rhyme, to make up in some degree for the usual absence of reason that generally distinguishes similar. documents.

"Here we are,' Lords and Gents, as the clowns al-
ways say,

In the Pantomimes which I have seen at the play.
Her Majesty says, that though England ne'er min-

ces

She likes to remain on good terms with all Princes,
And therefore appreciates quite at its proper rate,
Their assurance of wishing with her to co-operate.
She's glad to announce, too, that after much bother,
Of one saying one thing, and one quite another,
Although England's envoy behaved like a very cur,
We've settled in some way our tiff with America:
In addition to this, no plan could be finer

Than the terms we have made with celestial China.
We've gained a possession, they call it Hong Hong,
Which is three acres broad, and a mile or so long.
The standard of Britain, however, is planted there,
For Civilization was very much wanted there,
And to you it is utterly needless to say
For civilization the natives must pay;
And therefore, we charge twenty millions of dollars
For the very first lesson we give to our scholars.
The people of England will learn with delight
We've made all our matters with Syria right;
And the fact will of course be a great consolation
To the suffering millions all over the nation.
The governments, Turkish and Persian, have long
Been declaring each other excessively wrong,
But England and Russia have both interfered
In a way by which every dispute has been cleared;
A piece of intelligence which, you must own,
Will cause satisfaction wherever 'tis known.
Afghanistan, you know, has but recently been
Of valor exclusively British the scene:

But for further description of things of this natur,
See the dramas they do at the Surrey Theatur,
Where the famed T. P. Cooke, as a true British
seamen,

Dances hornpipes while fighting a combat with three

men.

get it!

ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION.-By the arrival of Lieut. M'Murdo, of the Terror, from the Falkland Islands, very gratifying news has been received of the expedition under Captain James Ross. He reports that all the objects undertaken by Captain James Ross, and his gallant associates, have been triumphantly accomplished. The Terror, and Erebus, Captain Crozier, proceeded on their second voyage southward; and keeping nearly between the same meridians as before, 177° to 180°, again examined the lands discovered the preceding season, and which terminated in a lofty mountain. We believe that in this course they ascertained the magnetic pole where it was anticipated, and pursued their perilous way till they penetrated to the highest southern latitude ever seen by mortal eye, namely, the 80th degree!!! Captain Weddell, we think, arrived at somewhat about four degrees short of the extaordinary achievement, and went out on his bowsprit, that he might say he had been farther south than any other human being.

We have seen some specimens of natural history from the highest region which the expedition reached. Two beautiful gulls, about the size of the smaller sea-mew familiar on our coasts, of the purest white, like plumes of drifted snow, and having black legs and feet, have been shown to us, and are the only creatures observed there, with the exception of the fish, of which some were caught. Boih birds and fish were full of shrimps, the common food of air and water. We were also shown a larger beautiful bird of the same species from the Falkland Isles, with lavender-colored wings, a rose-colored breast, and a black head. Lieut. M'Murdo has also brought valuable specimens of grasses, seeds, &c. &c. from the Falkland Isles and other strange lands; and samples of geology from the farthest south; one we looked at, apparently a conglomerate, and the other of a course, clayey character. We wait anxiously for more information; but trust that these particulars, hastily gathered on the eve of publication, will be interesting to every reader.-Literary Gaz.

MUSIC FOR THE MILLION.

From the New Monthly Magazine.

"

The general so likes your music that he desires you, of all love, to make no more noise with it. OTHELLO.

How sour sweet music is!

RICHARD II.

The isle is full of noises.

Sometimes a thousand twanging instruments Will hum about my ears, and sometimes_voices. TEMPEST. Of all the crotchets of the days we live in, the wildest certainly is the idea of the popular concert, or grand national oratorio, implied in the project of music or singing for "the million." Duets, quartettes, quintettes, are all tolerable enough; but who can endure the notion of a millionette?

"This shall prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing." The inhabitants of these isles get nothing for nothing, not even their music; they will infallibly have to pay through the nose for the torments inflicted on them through the ear. It will cost a handsome round sum to manufacture some twenty millions of Pastas and Tamburinis. The speech of the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the financial part of the scheme will be a curiosity.

The humanity of Herr Hullah's project is extremely questionable; the best song for the poor would surely be a "song of sixpence," and could we only give them the four-and-twenty blackbirds" into the bargain, it would assist them to a Christmas pie, which is a more substantial, if not a sweeter dish than a Christmas carol. The blackbird, to be sure, is not exactly the bird one would select for a poor man's pie. A plainer bird, who instead of singing the moment the pie is opened would confine himself strictly to his gastronomic functions, would answer the purpose much better, and the blackbird should retain his distinction as "a dainty dish to set before a king," who has seldom so keen an appetite as his hard-worked subjects. But our fanatici per la musica act upon the principle that neither kings nor subjects have any sense but the mere animal sense of hearing. No more sympathy have they with the legitimate cravings of the stomach than the jacobin lecturer had with the

We never understood, till now, the full force of the expression, "the burden of a song." It will be a heavy day for us when the millions begin to exercise their vocal powers; such chanting will not be enchanting, and we should unquestionably put a bar to it, were we of sufficient note to do so. We receive the proposal with the reverse of glee, and had we a stave, we should cordially bestow a sound application of it upon the author, could we but catch him. When measures ought to be taken to prevent the concert of the rabble, it is most provoking to see efforts deliberately made to bring them into unison. It is evident that universal suffrage will be carried, when every man has a voice in the commonwealth, and the next step assuredly will be vote by-needy knife-grinder. They forget that our ballad! In vain has Shakspeare warned us against

1

the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still discordant wavering multitude, we are on the point of having what is a great deal worse-a quavering multitude; and the originators of this frantic scheme have already established their Norma-l schools.

Henceforward the working-classes will be opera-tives with a vengeance; there will be a terrible propriety in asking them for their "sweet voices." The value of election promises, however, will be much the same as heretofore, for they have never been estimated at more than-a song.

bakers will give more bread for one copper farthing, nay for one of the new half-farthings, than for one million of silver sounds, were they even of Rubini's coinage, or to issue from the mint of Grisi.

We can imagine a musical dietary for John Bull. For breakfast an air of Mozart instead of a slice of bacon, with a cavatina for a cup of coffee, and a bravura in place of the old fashioned custom of bread and butter. Luncheon might consist of that excellént substitute for a round of beef-a rondo of Beethoven, with the musical glasses to represent tankards of London stout. For dinner, we would serve him up an oratorio Should this musical movement succeed, whole, as our sensual ancestors used to serve we never expect to have a moment's quiet a sheep or an ox; the labors of the pas except during a national cold, or an univer-trycook might be replaced by the art of Passal influenza. We shall wish with Caligula ta, and a bacchanalian song or two fill the that the millions had but one throat, and that office formerly discharged by Bacchus himthroat a sore one. Peace, alas, has brought self. Then, as we should be sorry to send "piping times" along with her, and we only our dear countrymen supperless to bed, how trust the country will be equal to this new could the day's feasting be better concluded strain upon its powers of endurance, for as- than by a hot opera, or that melodious dish, suredly we shall not have our music for the "bones and tongs," which Bottom was nothing, like Stephano in the "Tempest." so fond of, and the ingenuous youth of Fleet

market delight in to this day. For the summer season, in place of a hot opera we would recommend a cold serenade, after which our bon-vivant might reckon upon as easy a digestion, and slumbers as "airy light," as we learn from Milton that our first parents enjoyed in Paradise.

though for the "dying fall," we shall pray very devoutly.

Our national reputation was never in danger until now, when our gallant countrymen, who never shook in battle, are to be actually taught to shake in time of profound peace. The transition from brave to semi-breve may be "most musical," but it is at the same time "most melancholy." The cliffs that made

Without disparaging the "Corn-Law Rhymes," we are humbly of opinion that a peck of wheat is fairly worth a bushel of Albion so glorious were not treble cliffs, them. Music at dinner is agreeable enough, but music instead of dinner is a wretched entertainment, were it even the music of the spheres, which, by the by, is the least objectionable of any for a reason too obvious to be stated.* Hunger was never harmonious, and never will be to the end of time, although Milton is so pleasant as to recommend a song as an anodyne for the pangs of fasting:

And ever against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs.

The tones of a famishing people are more likely to be Wolf Tones than those of nightingales. National airs, under such distressing circumstances, are wont to prove squalls; the millions are apt to get up "the Storm," while their rulers sing "Cease, rude Boreas," to little purpose. The chromatic scale is perhaps designed to be a set-off against the sliding scale; but we do not see why we should be at liberty to import the crotchets of the Germans, and prohibited to buy their

corn.

The agriculturists are vigilant enough to protect ears of wheat, but in these times the human ear stands in need of protection a great deal more. Imagine a million of Scotchmen singing

The corn rigs are bonny, oh,

nor can a country filled with bravoes and band-itti expect to continue mistress of the world. The keys of empire will be exchanged for the keys of a piano, and Britannia will be degraded into the Prima Donna of the terrestrial bawl. Those who are instrumental in bringing about this vocal revolution will have much to answer for. Like all revolutionists, too, they are little aware of the lengths to which their rash innovations will assuredly carry them. The million will not long be content without an orand catches will lead to fiddles and bassoons; chestra to accompany their strains; glees the Sirens will infallibly introduce the Harp ies! We shall then be doomed to witness some tremendous popular organ-ization, and overture, in a crash of music.

our national existence will terminate like an

Perhaps there is even a still deeper abyss yawning for our unhappy country. The connection between music and dancing is ancient and indissoluble. In Lydia, we are informed by classic writers, there were certain islands in a certain lake, which at the sound of music, invariably began to dance! Is there no fear of the British isles adopting these "Lydian measures,' and taking a "fling" across the floor of the Atlantic, or perhaps into the Chinese seas, to "set" their new partner, the pretty little island of

or the same nice little chorus of English far- Hong Kong? Heaven only knows how soon, mers screaming

The wind that shakes the barley. As there may be too many cooks to a soup, so there may be too many choristers to a choir. Because there is safety in a multitude of counsellors it does not logically follow that there must be melody in a mob of singers. Let who will cry "encore" to a squalling kingdom, we shall never countenance so crying a grievance; nor imitate Orsino in exclaiming, "that strain again!" al

The reason alluded to is beautifully stated by
Shakspeare in a familiar passage:

There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Poth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

in these capering times, we may find ourselves the vis-a-vis of Miss Madagascar, or leading off with Madame, Barbadoes. Íreland will probably dance her own national jig, as she is in the habit of taking her own At any rate, we shall both deserve to be steps, and rarely approves of our measures. numbered with the Silly Isles, and the state will probably reel before the ball is over. Let our rulers ponder this well before it is too late. "C'est le premier pas qui coute!"

All the arguments we have heard for frivolous in the extreme. It is sometimes teaching the British empire to sing, appear contended that, because the bee, which is such a model of industry, hums while engaged in the manufacture of wax and honey, human artificers and tradesmen ought to do likewise! Now admitting this to be a pre