veniency, a few dirty fir boards have been fixed along the front wall, and these serve for cooking, ironing, and a thousand and one other purposes. Two forms, ranging on each side the fire place, supply the place of chairs. The "Beggar's Opera" is here daily and hourly enacted, in detached form. In the motley group assembled I found a man whose head Time had "silver'd o'er with age." He was an Irishman, and by trade a tailor. The entire subsistence of this poor and infirm creature was derived from the patching of old threadbare garments, his victuals (as he told me) never varying, and being, at all meals, potatoes and salt. My interrogatories were, however, interrupted by a scuffle in the corner of the house, between two parties for priority in the use of the cooking materials—the culinary operations being conducted by each one for himself. In this same hovel were congregated the most expert thieves, the greatest profligates, begging-letter impostors, old clothes-men, street musicians, lucifer match venders, horse-holders, wounded soldiers, and, indeed, parties belonging to the entire catalogue of mendicancy and misery. There were parties, too, living in idleness on the wages of sin-men who profited by the prostitution of their wives, or females with whom they cohabited. Strolling up a flight of steps, I entered one of the bedrooms. (Heaven save the mark!) In a room of not more than twelve feet long by eight wide, were not fewer than four hammocks. There were few whole panes of

glass in the window, and the greater part of the door had been broken off. In these beds, I was informed, the inmates (male and female) slept indiscriminately; while several of the beds were occupied, during the daytime, by parties who derive a livelihood from pilfering and housebreaking, and others who follow avocations of a kind equally discreditable. Shocked with such recitals, I prepared to withdraw from the sad spectacle, but found, the Sunbeam had vanished, leaving me with only the memory of the sorrowful realities through which we had wandered. Yes, realities, gentle reader; for though I chose an allegory to introduce the details, such histories were related to me when making inquiries into the life of London; and the shocking objects which then met my eyes have not in the least been over-coloured or overcharged. The story of a Sunbeam might find its corroboration in many localities of London; and I have little doubt that matter for ponderous volumes might be elicited in more respectable quarters of the metropolis than those noted, which would present more of the horrible and revolting realities of London life. It has truly been said, one-half the world knows not how the other half has an existence. The condition of the poor, as yet, requires consideration from those in high places; and the treatment of criminals, with a view to the suppression of crime, is a subject on which Government has yet to learn to legislate.

C

LOOK OUT.

"LOOK out!" cries the mariner tossed on the wave, Though his vessel be sound, and his heart be brave; There are rocks ahead, though we may not descry, Thro' this darkness, the point where their dangers lie. It were well to mark what experience says,

Ere adventuring far on these raging seas:

Let Prudence and Patience our guiding stars be,

Till the billow and breeze cease their revelry.

Look out! through the storm and the tempest of life,
For quicksands surround us, and dangers are rife;
Our bark, though complete, by a cross-sea driven,
May wander far wide of its hoped-for haven.

I love not the mock-sun, though dazzling his beams,
And trust less the tale that is woven in dreams;
Hope flatters the most when he plans to deceive,
And bitter is the mem'ry realities leave.

Look out! when the smooth tongue of Flattery speaksThe fox to the hen-roost in quietude sneaks—

The poisoned arrow is winged with deceit

And the hand that 's outstretched the quickest to greet,
Oft clutches the dagger that falsehood directs
To the heart it has won, when the mind least suspects:
'T were better to list, with affectionate ear,

To Nature's advice-" There 's oft wisdom in fear."

Look out! when the sun of Prosperity smiles,
And dread lest its splendour in secret beguiles;
"T is the work of our childhood's sprightlier hours,
Pursuing the shadow or painting the flowers;
But mind, more matured, hath a steadier course,
And traces effects to their Infinite source,-
Perceives the fixed laws that determine the whole-
That, creating, sustains, and disowns all control.

Look out! when the storm of Adversity blows,
The God who afflicts as assuredly knows
How best to relieve us from peril and pain—
Though prayers seem unheard, go, consult Him again;
By waiting and watching the soul's faith He tries—
Disdain we such trusting He rarely replies:
The chart most consulted the sailor befriends,
The prayer oft-ascending like helmet defends.

Look out in the sunshine! look out in the storm!
When fortune caresses, or miseries deform;
Unclouded the morning of life may appear―

Or the smile and the calm youth's dawning may cheer;
And oft when the heart in its sunshine rejoices,
The pleasure most painted its comeliness loses:
"T were better by far, then, since rocks lie about,
In life's weary voyage, for all to look out!

THE CHILD OF THE CHURCHYARD.

Lo! poor deserted Julia, once how fair;
With cheek so wan, and pale, and scattered hair;
Her gentle heart by love's mad tempest torn;
She runs, she stops, and wildly stares around!
Now nails the eye of thought into the ground!
Now drowned in tears, she lifts its beam forlorn,
Pale as the moon, amidst the midnight storm,
When rains and driving clouds her face deform!

WALCOT.

ONE cold and comfortless December day, in the year 1789-the snow falling in heavy flakes, and a keen northerly breeze blowing-an Englishman, the commercial traveller for a Sheffield firm, was pursuing his way along the great northern turnpike communicating between Dublin and Belfast. He had gained a hill to the south of the pleasantly-situated little town of Lisburn, county Antrim, and was driving his horse leisurely up the steep, when a solemn cortegé, slowly winding round the brow of the mountain, attracted his attention. He at once concluded that it was a funeral, on its way to some neighbouring place of sepulture, and, knowing the custom of the country, resolved on joining the sable crowd of mourners— more particularly as an opposite course of conduct, in