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BY WILLIAM KENNEDY.

Oh, wring the black drop from your heart
Before you kneel in prayer!
You do but mock the Mercy-Seat
If hatred linger there.

How can you ask offended Heaven
To clear your soul's deep debt,

If 'neath your ban lies brother man?-
Forgive, if not forget.

Remember sons of earth are born
To sorrow and to sin;

That poor and rich to dust return,

A few brief years within.

For guests that crowd round life's strange board,

Joy's cups are thinly set ;

To poison them were fearful shame-
Forgive, if not forget.

In error, or in guiltiness,

If men have wrought thee wrong,

From ways of wrath thy steps restrain-
In patience pass along.
Should retribution be thy right,
He will avenge thee yet,
Who mortal ill repayeth still-
Forgive, if not forget.

How pleasant, when our orisons
We breathe at eventide,
To feel the heart untenanted
By anger or by pride!

Oh, blessed are the merciful,

Whose hopes on high are set!

Like them, release thy soul in peace-
Forgive, and thou'Ït forget.

From Bentley's Miscellany.

SONG.

By the clear silver tones of thy heavenly voice,
By the sparkling blue eyes of the maid of my choice,
By thy bright sunny ringlets, were I on a throne,
And thou what thou art, I should make thee my own.
By the smile on thy lip-by the bloom on thy cheek-
By thy looks of affection-the words thou dost speak-
By the heart warm with love in that bosom of snow,
I love thee much more than thou ever can'st know.

I love thee-I love thee-what can I say more, Than tell what I have told thee so often before; While others may court thee, may flatter, and praise, Forget not our younger and happier days.

STANZAS.

The speakers here, are a dying girl and her lover. The ardent passion manifested by the youth suggests to the girl several images under which she supposes that he will delight to personify her after her death. The stanzas are in the form of a dialogue-the girl suggesting the particular images in succession, and the lover responding.

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There's not a radiant gem

In fashion's galaxy,

Gleaming on high-born beauty's brow, So fair, so bright as thee.

And, floweret, thou,

Wreathed in the cottage maiden's hair, may deck
Full many as bright a brow.

The garden's gaudy flowers
May sweetly bloom awhile

In beauty's hand, and shed perfume,
Nor languish 'neath her smile;

But thou, sweet flower,

Were I to pluck thee from thy native stem,
Wouldst wither ere an hour.

Bloom 'mong the wither'd leaves

So soon to be thy grave,

That mournfully fall in rustling showers
From the trees that o'er thee wave!
Yet, lovely thing,

Thou'lt come again, and deck that lovely spot,
At the first voice of spring.

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Like the lonely bark that ploughs her way far on the dreary deep,

And sinks (unmarked by all save Heaven) beneath the storm's wild sweep,

Earth's unknown heroes silently the world's rough tempests brave,

And, gliding noteless o'er life's waste, sink to a fameless grave.

Yet, what tho' unknown ye warriors, if ye war for Truth and Love!

Unmarked below, your silent lives are registered above;

When the blood-bought laurels of the field beneath Time's touch shall die,

Ye nameless ones of earth shall shine in Heaven eternally!

In that all-glorious land beyond the grave's dark wilderness,

Where titles, riches, sounding names, sink into nothingness,

The wretched beggar's tattered garb, by honest virtue worn,

Shall laugh the crime-stained diadems of guilty kings to scorn!

From the Athenæuin.

RETROSPECTION.

That Time is dead for ever, child,
Gone, frozen, dead for ever.-Shelley.

Her hues of youthful life divine
Are turned to ashy pale;
For she is dead-that May of mine;
Yet let me lift the veil!

Not as with open eyes she smiled,

And breathed her balmy breath;—
Still must her look be sweet and mild;
I'll see my May in death!

No, nevermore! her look is strange-
You would not see your May;
Nor could you bear to trace the change,—
Your eyes would turn away.

Your heart would die at death's disgrace
Upon her mouth and brow:

Ah! leave the shroud across her face,You would not know it now.

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poured forth such a fund of original research of philosophical, entertaining speculation, expressed in so lively and agreeable a style, that the work has always remained one of the chief favorites of our literature.

DEATH OF THE ELDER DISRAELI.-The pure and gentleman just deceased,-who certainly was learnhonorable career of this gentleman reached its close ed not only by courtesy,-appeared in 1791; but, on Wednesday last. He had attained the advanced after a few copies had been sold, he suppressed the age of eighty-two years; and a few weeks ago whole edition, his motive for which was not very was in the full possession of his usual health, and apparent, the literary merit of that production being in the complete enjoyment of his intellectual powers. beyond dispute. In his twenty-fourth year he gave The prevailing epidemic, however, suddenly assail- to the world a volume consisting of his common ing a constitution enfeebled by age, soon assumed place book, with critical remarks, under the title of an aggravated form, and at length this venerable" Curiosities of Literature." This single volume gentleman sank under the attack. He was born at attracted attention in an age when men of genius Enfield, in the month of May, 1766, and was the abounded. Yet it was then merely an elegant and only child of Benjamin Disraeli, a Venetian mer- critical compilation, though it eventually became chant, who had been many years settled in the the origin of that celebrated miscellany in which, country. He received some instruction at a school at a later period of his life, and especially from the near the place of his nativity, but, his father con- years 1817 to 1824, in successive volumes, he ceiving that his education could be more advantageously conducted in Holland, a considerable portion of his boyhood was spent in that country. Before his departure for the Continent, however he showed signs of a very peecocious intellect; for he began to write verses at the age of ten, and in his sixteenth year addressed a poetical epistle to Dr. Johnson. After passing some time at Amsterdam and Leyden, where he acquired a knowledge of several modern languages, and where he applied himself to classical studies with some attention, but with no very extraordinary success, he proceeded to the French metropolis. This visit to Paris took place in 1786, when the great revolution was impending, and when its doctrines seemed to have obtained entire possession of all men's minds; but Mr. Disraeli proved an exception. He was then, and remained throughout his long life, a purely speculative philosopher,-one who never mingled in political broils, or for a single moment knew what it was to be connected with political or religious parties. While in | France, he imbibed that fondness for French literature which always clung to him, but which is more evident in his criticisms than in his style or sentiments, for he wrote his vernacular English tongue with great purity, and identified himself in all things with the land in which he lived. On his return to England, after a course of continental travel, he published several poems, among which it is believed that "Lines on the Abuse of Satire" was one; it appeared in the fifty-ninth volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, and was directed against Peter Pindar, who affected to believe that it was written by Hayley, and made it a pretext for his hostility to the author of "The Trials of Temper." But, whether he knew the real writer or not, there never was any hostility between Mr. Disraeli and Dr. Walcott, "The Defence of Poetry," by the learned

Mr. Disraeli's passion for literary history displayed itself at a very early period of life, and in his later years it never deserted him. We therefore have his "Quarrels of Authors," in three volumes, his "Calamities of Authors," in two volumes, and his "Illustrations of the Literary Character," in one volume. Being placed in a position of pecuniary independence, he was free to indulge the tastes, and exercise the talents, which have enabled him to build up a reputation that will not speedily be forgotten. His twelve volumes, illustrative of the literary character, constitute, in themselves, a goodly collection, and yet they are understood to have been only chapters in the great work which it was said he was always preparing, in the manner of Bayle. To the early numbers of the Quarterly Review Mr. Disraeli was a contributor. His review of "Spence's Anecdotes," in 1820, and a vindication both of the moral and poetical character of Pope, produced the famous Pope controversy, in which Mr. Bowles, Lord Byron and others took part. He was the first author who commenced research, on an extensive scale, amongst the manuscripts of the British Museum. In the year 1828, his attention was diverted from his history of English literature,-which he was always meditating-by the strong desire that he felt to publish his views respecting the all-important age of Charles I. These, comprised in five volumes, he gave to the world at intervals, in the course of seven years, under the title of "Commentaries on the Life and Reign of Charles I." It was in consequence of the success of this great historical effort, that the University of Oxford conferred on him the

SWISS LOVE OF TITLES.-The number of opulent | Lord Rosse stepped forward, and said he thought he families whose sons are eager to become officers could make it work. No sooner said than done. causes an overwhelming superfluity of colonels, He put his hand to the work, discovered by an inmajors, and captains. I have already described how stant's look where the machinery was out of order, we meet presidents at every turn in Switzerland; and made a few turns, put all to rights, and then who have, however, according to our notions, no- the machine, to the admiration of the company, thing president-like about them. In the same way worked beautifully. Lord Oxmantown (for that was communal-councillors, circuit-councillors, and men then his only title) was dressed rather roughly, and of the strangest, most varied and high-sounding de- not in drawing room habiliments, so that he might nominations, abound in every corner. Even these, be mistaken for what he was not-a poor mechanic. however, seem not to be considered enough; for all He had already, however, proved himself to be a who have at any time of their lives filled official first rate one. Led by his rather rude appearance stations continue to bear about with them their for- to suppose that he was a workman who would be mer title, prefixing, however, an ex. Hence the glad of a job, a gentleman accosted him, and sayenormous number of ex-state-councillors, ex-burgo- ing he was in want of a man of talent like him, masters, ex-commune-presidents, and ex-communal- offered to employ him at a liberal salary. Lord councillors, &c.; though the rage for titles is as se- Rosse of course politely declined the offer, which, verely satirized in Switzerland as similar follies however, was perhaps as honorable to him who among ourselves. It remains, however, unabated, made it, as to him to whom it was made. especially among the ladies, who appear resolutely determined that their husbands should be betitled, somehow or other. I heard in Zurich of a "Mrs. Vice-Inspector of Fire-engines" (Frau Vice-Sprüzen Meisterin); and such instances are not exceptions: let the title be what it will, so it be but a title, it is welcome to a Swiss.

THE NEW ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.-The Bishop of Chester has been appointed to the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury, vacant by the death of the late Dr. Howley:-" Our estimable and revered diocesan, the Lord Bishop of Chester," says the Chester Courant of Wednesday, "is appointed to succeed the late Dr. Howley as Archbishop of Canterbury. This promotion of the pious and learned Dr. Sumner to the primacy will be hailed with lively satisfaction by numerous and influential parties in the Church. The right rev. prelate left Chester for London last evening (Tuesday), in compliance with | a royal message requiring his attendance in the metropolis." Dr. John Bird Sumner, a canon of Durham, was consecrated Bishop of Chester in 1828.

"REMINISCENCES OF PRINCE TALLEYRAND."-We are requested to state that this work is edited from the papers of M. Colmache, the Prince's private secretary. This announcement confirms our conjecture that the work had a foundation in truths, though fiction was so mixed up with fact in its composition that it was impossible to know what portions were to be depended on. Throughout, the work purports to be written, not by the Prince's secretary but by a distinguished English Diplomatist, and many pages of the book are expressly written to give color to the fable. However meagre the papers of M. Colmache might be, they would, if edited with veracity and judgment, have had a value the book cannot now pretend to. We express our opinion the more freely, as we fear that original papers of real importance are often cruelly mangled by the incompetency of the "editor" to whose care they are committed. Any work pretending to a biographical character must needs be worthless if we cannot repose confidence in its genuineness and authenticity.

LORD ROSSE A MECHANIC.-On one occasion when he was but a youth, he went to an exhibition at the Adelaide Gallery, where some kind of London steam engine was being exhibited. By some means or other the exhibitor could not set his engine going; all his efforts to effect it were in vain, and he was about to give it up in despair, when

AN AUTHOR IN DIFFICULTIES.-In a series of papers, entitled the Autobiography of a Working Man, at present in the course of publication in the Manchester Examiner, we find the following curious statement:-The writer had returned from Spain in 1837, after fighting the battles of Queen Christina, with no other reward in his pocket than a certificate for six months' arrears of pay, which he offered first for £1, then for 10s., then 5s., and lastly for a quire of paper, on which to commence a Narrative of the British Legion in Spain. He says: "I got a suit of clothes made to appear in on landing in Scotland; but was robbed of clothes and every farthing of money before I got on board the ship. I might have found friends and have got assistance in Glasgow. I would not, in the dirty regimentals I was clothed in, go to any person who had before known me. The person to whom I offered my certificate of six months' gray for a quire of writing paper and pen and ir to begin to write my narrative of the Legion, would give nothing for the worthless certificate, but made me a present of several quires of writing paper. I walked out of Glasgow, three or four miles up the Clyde, got into a field of beans nearly ripe, crept out of sight to the middle of the field, there lay three days and nights, writing the first chapters of my narrative, and living on the beans. I sent the farmer a copy of the work afterwards as a payment for what I had eaten." It is pleasant to learn that the work thus commenced sold extensively, and produced to the author a clear profit of £100.

KING HUDSON AND HER MAJESTY'S ENGLISH.We have received a lithographic circular letter this week, in which the Lord Mayor of York has perpetrated a most atrocious and cruel assault upon her Majesty's English. The first, second, and third persons dance and mingle throughout the circular in all the mazes of a "dinner" confusion. The Lord Mayor presents his compliments" to Mr. A. B., and "would be glad if he" would "avail themselves" of á train "which leaves the station at ten o'clock." The Lord Mayor requests an “early answer so as to know by what train you propose to come." But the happiest announcement is, that "the Lord Mayor is sorry he is unable to offer a bed to all the members of the corporation." Oh! Mr. Hudson, what a flogging your schoolmaster deserves!-Yorkshireman.

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