eating fowls' sinews! If you can still endure me, come and enjoy the entwined contentment. Heat and cold were not wont to deter you. Under the fragrant curtain we were united as sweetly as twinroses. When we drank last together I knew not that we were exchanging the broken willow-bough; (token of separation.) There is a silver river between us, across which we gaze at each other. The pomegranate has opened as red as the sun, and yet you come not. I am debarred the rain and the dew, but I am intoxicated with love! This is your fair one's condition. I know not if my love is as fond as his mistress, and I write this in deep anxiety that you would move your pearly feet. Come to the side of Geminary-street, in Mild Benerolina Alley, in Schzer-house, tenanted by Tong. Come, and renew the pure discourse that we had of yore. Still you come not at my bidding. I send one to greet you with this, and know if you are well and tranquil. Here are two verses of the Ode for you:

'I DESIRE with all my heart to be the hair-bound wife;

We are a flock of wild geese scattered:

I beseech that you will wait for your mistress; and yet

We will resemble the fond A- and his mate."

(Added with tearful eye :")

'I CLASPED your hand when we parted, and tears ran down my cheeks:
The burden of wo that is laid upon me fills the very boat;

With the pencil and flowery sheet, I endeavor to lighten my heart,
But every measure witnesses in tears of blood upon my dress.'

'Your mistress A. tearfully makes her prayer.'

Thus you see that the Chinese are susceptible of the tender passion as well as others. I cannot learn who the writer of the above was, but she does not appear to have been very happy. Those who have studied the Chinese character say that the female possesses most of the delightful natural traits of the sex; and the Chinese stories are full of examples of love that knows no limits. There is only one Heaven,' said a forlorn maiden, whose parents had upraided her for spending her days in pouring libations of tears at the grave of her lover, and He was that Heaven to me!... HERE is 'A little Talk about Pigeons; and we put it to the reader to decide whether it does not indicate the writer to be one who has a head and a heart to appreciate and feel the pleasant sights and influences of nature: Blessings on that flock of pigeons as they flit past me, with the sunlight shivering on their purple wings! I have so often 'owned the soft impeachment,' a fancy for ducks and young chickens; a tender leaning toward little pigs and hop-toads; that you will not greatly wonder at my having given my heart completely away to these pretty neighbors of mine; who are by no means the vagrants one might fancy, seeing them soaring up and down that way, in all their azure and gold finery. You shake your head, and mumble the old adage, Fine feathers, but empty trunks at home.' Not a bit of it! There's not a coxcomb among them; not one! And I'm sure I ought to know, for we 've been borrowing and lending, day in and day out, all summer long. I find the bread-crumbs, and they pay for them in the very best of short patent sermons; a kind of practical theology, so plain that he who runs may read. With the earliest peep of dawn they are chattering away in their lofty home in the church steeple. One might almost think it the old story of MEMNON over again; and when

as now,

'THE sun strikes through the evening's mist
The city's spire to golden,'

back they come, trooping from their daily haunts so merrily, so cheerily, so full of love and kindliness, that it does one good merely to live near such good protestants. You laugh; but what else are they; and what is their life, from beginning to end, but a protesting against our repining, mistrustful spirit, our every-day worldly cares, which leave us so little time or heart to admire and love God's beautiful creation? They have their household duties as well as we; but with what winning grace and cheerfulness they go 24

VOL. XXIX.

forth to meet them! As you cross the street your dress almost sweeps against some meek-eyed matron, with her wisp of straw for the little nest, or crumb of bread for the birdeen at home; but a minute after, she is off, with outstretched wings and heart exulting in the pure air; off for the green wood; off through the wide, boundless heaven; and who shall say that the fluttering of her glad free wings may not form the softened cadence of some jubilant hymn, less musical indeed than when the morning stars sang together, yet none the less noted by the Ear which hears the young ravens when they cry, and marks the sparrow's fall? Nay, is not her guileless, blissful life in itself a Hosannah,' a song of thanksgiving to HIM who clothes the hills with majesty, and leads the silver streams along the green valleys? Believe me, one may listen to worse preachers than my gentle pigeons, and even with much clearer heads than mine, may make poorer bargains in bread-stuffs.' . . . THE annexed very trenchant Epigram, it will scarcely be denied by any body, is richly deserved. Reading for the twentieth time,' says the facile writer, in a note to the EDITOR, 'the most tragic volume to me in English literature, namely, the last of LOCKHART's Life of his father-in-law, I could not help inditing the following epigram or anathema; and as you sometimes publish epigrams, perhaps it may do for ' Ancient NICHOLAS.' These are the facts: On the eighteenth of May, 1831, Sir WALTER SCOTT attended the election for the county of Roxburghshire, which was held at Jedburgh. He found the town in a most turbulent condition; and LOCKHART states that Sir WALTER's carriage was pelted with stones by the disciplined rabble of the Reformers. 'He was saluted,' adds the biographer, with groans and blasphemies all the way; and I blush to add that a woman (?) spat upon him from a window.' The grossness of this contumely must excuse any want of delicacy in the following inscription:

6

THE SPITTER SPITTED.

CURSED Jedburgh!-be thy name
Damned for aye to filthy fame!
But before the day begins

Of chastisement for thy sins,

All the world shall welcome thee

With a new orthography.

Jade-burgh shall thy name be made;

So entitled from the JADE

That spirted her fell slaver forth

On th' ARIOSTO of the North!'

Immortal hag! in mem'ry doomed to dwell
Long after fiends have spitted thee in hell!'

WE must hear more from our medical correspondent in Michigan. His vein is good. He says he visited many years ago a place in that region which was celebrated for fever-and-ague, and sundry other little complaints, that made it worth while for a physician to settle there; and accordingly he became medical adviser to the inhabitants of that charmingly unhealthy 'huddle' and the marshy country adjoining. As the country round about became cleared and settled, however, the healthiness of the region began to improve; and as the people appeared indisposed to die, no physician could make out to live there, and he was compelled to go farther and fare worse.' Let us have the Experience' at the vidual whose life had been spent, as HooD says, 'far from the buzzy 'aunts of men,' and who had acquired a high degree of verdancy, was dining last summer at the table of one of our largest hotels, when perceiving a bottle of wine standing opposite to the gentleman on his right hand, and supposing it to be public property, he helped himself to a glass of it as unceremoniously as if it had been so much water.

meetest 'vantage of the time.'

AN indi

The owner of the wine, astonished at the rudeness of the proceeding, turned to the unsophisticated countryman, and with a look of utter amazement, remarked: Well, by Jove! that's cool! Y-e-s,' was the reply, 'it's pooty cool; 'spect there 's ice into 't!' The gentleman's frown relaxed at such an unwonted 'entirety' of impudence and ignorance. ・・・ The New-York Weekly Mirror' has just commenced a new volume, and a very attractive one it promises to be. The new pictorial title-page is a beautiful thing; and the new types set forth the spirited 'Trippings of Tom Pepper' so clearly to the eye, that were those life-like sketches less agreeable than they are, it would still be pleasant to read what is so attractively printed. But these ‘Trippings' are from the pen of an exceedingly clever writer, who copies character with the faithfulness of a daguerreotype. We wonder who is Mr. FEROCIOUS,' a literary lawyer, in whose office Tom' is, and whom he introduces to us while engaged in discussing literary topics with a friend, whose opinions are exact echoes of his own;' denouncing certain 'piratical barons' in Cliff-street, and other marauding bibliopolists, and especially sundry critical assassins,' who are envious of his literary renown. Mr. FEROCIOUS' hands 'Tom' one of his entertaining 'works' to read ; directing him to 'dive down into the mysteries of his author; grapple with him; bring up the pearls and diamonds of his fancy, and play with his leviathan thoughts.' Tom' makes a beginning upon the book, but experiences such a soothing effect from the perusal of a few sentences that he falls directly into a sweet slumber, with his head resting upon the open page. He is not aware how long he has slept, when he is suddenly roused from his slumbers by a sharp pain in one of his ears; and starting up, he perceives Mr. FEROCIOUS' glaring at him through his spectacles. That gentleman's ire is greatly excited at such an exhibition of stupidity; and he saith to the lad, among other things equally forcible: A certain author, who has written plays, romances, essays and novels,' places one of his 'various writings' in the hands of a poor ignorant sluggard, ' hoping well and wishing well,' when that illiterate and assassin-like dunce, who hasn't got sufficient critical ability to discuss the merits of an original work, falls into a profound slumber, because he has n't life enough to keep awake, and then attributes his own want of sense to that author's productions. Avaunt! Hell not the quiet' of this office!' Keep an eye, reader, upon TOM PEPPER.' You will find him an instructive and entertaining companion, or we mistake the 'promise of his spring.'

JANUARY set the usual number of poetical mills a-going. PEGASUS never pranced more madly before. We received a thrilling effusion from a Boston watchman, which opened with this sublime burst:

'PATRONS! happy New Year and merry!

Forty-Six has gone quick-very!'

We have seen no prettier verses, or patter to the occasion, than the following, which came to a friend from the hand of his wife, tied round the neck of his favorite terrier. The offering is entitled Snap's New-Year's Address to his Master :'

"T is said at that benignant hour
When first o'er earth a star had risen,
A wondrous and a holy power
Of prayer and praise to brutes was given.

'And though I speak in doggrel rhyme,
And bring no offering rich or rare,
You'll not refuse, dear master mine!
T' accept from me this lock of hair?

'You see 't is glossy, smooth and bright,
For yet no care has touched my brow;
But dead would be my heart's delight,
If you should love me less than now!

'So when I'm feeble grown and old,
Preparing for my last long nap,
Let me not feel your eye grow cold,
Remember still your faithful SNAP!'

A. T.

WHAT a world of untold wealth there must be is in the unwrought mines of the West! We went with an old friend the other day to look at sundry specimens of the

We had

copper which is found in such large quantities in the Lake Superior region. not the faintest impression of the richness of the ores. 'Ores' did we say?—why, most of the specimens taken at random from one mine, The Albion,' if we remember rightly, were nothing but the veins themselves, of clear melted copper, which in the convulsions of nature that evoked them, ran into the long fissures of the rocks which parted to receive them. Ores there were, however, and in plenty; and even in these there were eighty or ninety pounds of copper to a hundred of the unsmelted material. And what is more, it seems that the mines are, as far as can be ascertained by the best lights which can be afforded, wholly inexhaustible. We saw many beautiful specimens also of silver ore, and one very beautiful piece of gold ore. A great curiosity also was a fossil that was found deeply imbedded in a boulder of conglomerate rock, which was picked up at Copper Harbor. This will afford matériel, we may suppose, in which geological Speculation may dig to unknown depths. How came that stone shell there? That is the question.' 'WHILE looking at some ornaments in a fancy-store lately, the shopman, among other specimens of vertu, produced what he declared to be some perfect fac-similes of the celebrated Etruscan vases. But,' said we, 'have those antique vases retained that brilliancy of color and polish that these copies exhibit?' 'Well,' he replied, evidently swelling with the fact, in that respect we think these ra-a-ther beat the originals! Probability 'ra-a-ther' favored that conclusion! ・・・ WE must decline the review by 'D. P.' of the literary merits of a pair of indifferent authorlings' hereabout who shall be nameless. The game is not worth the candle. The praise, small as it is, and awarded by contrast, is yet undeserved; as would have appeared, had the writer fortified his position by an extract or two. Our own ground between the parties thus placed in juxtaposition is that assumed by a clever Dublin wag, in an epigram upon two very bad actors named MOSSUP and Ross:

'SOME they cry MossUP,

And some they cry Ross up;
Not which is the best

But which is the worst,
Is the toss-up!'

'HUMANO-anecdotical biography,' says CARLYLE, 'is by nature the most universally profitable, universally pleasant, of all things, especially biography of distinguished individuals.' This assumption conceded, we ask the reader to favor us with his most concentrated attention, while we discourse for a brief space of 'Colonel Arial Bragg,' whose Memoirs, written by Himself,' now lie before us. Who is BLENERHASSETT No,' Who is Colonel ARIAL BRAGG? it may be asked. We shall not, in answering this query, go back as he himself has done, through three generations, to let people know who this ARIAL BRAGG is, and from whom he descended.' Leaving MEHITABLE SHEARS, POLLY WILLIAMS, and the brother who died while attending an old lady's grist-mill,' together with all the long line of progenitors and sub-progenitors of our author, let us come down at once to ARIAL; ARIAL, the apprentice; ARIAL, the shoe-maker; ARIAL, the man with two coats to his back, and every thing handsome about him;' and last not least, ARIAL the poet. He was n't very well treated when an apprentice, by Mr. ALEXANDER BRAGG, his uncle and master, if we may judge from the queries which he propounded to that gentleman a day or two before he left his unreasonable service :

'WHERE is that silk handkerchief, bought at Boston, by my aunt RHODA FISHER with the money that I received of Landlord MANN for partridges, caught in the woods when but eleven years old, which cost seventy-five cents, and which I never had the pleasure to take into my hands? Where is

the money I received for all the partridges and hares that you borrowed? And where is the money I lent you, received of RICHARD LETHBRIDGE of Franklin, and of Mrs. BULLEN of Medway, for fish taken from Wrentham Pond, when on errands with leave to stay, by fishing all night, to say nothing of the four I brought to you whilst the rain came down in torrents? And above all, where are my nine sheep, due three years since, the natural increase after paying for keeping of the lamb pointed out by my grandfather JOHN FISHER? And a fine one it was, for which I paid to you that identical English crown-piece given to me by my father when he left me for West Point, from which place he never returned. And where is that bushel of rye which I earned by reaping for WILLIAM MELLEN, after faithfully doing the five days' stent you gave me hoeing potatoes in new land? And why have you neglected to clothe me? Have I not served you faithfully? And have you not let me out by the day since I could do a man's work, instead of learning me the trade you said you would, when you told me my mother had bound me to you for that purpose? Answer these questions, if you please, Master BRAGG!'

6

Ay, Master BRAGG,' 'tell us these, and unyoke! But never mind; ARIAL'S early adversity did him no harm; for when he afterward learned to cobble' and then to make shoes, did n't he 'pack up his duds, swing his kit,' and put off for Brookline,' where he got four shillings for boots, two for shoes, and twelve cents for 'tapping and heeling? Did n't he keep doing so,' until he made money enough to purchase a few pounds of leather, which he made up into shoes; then a few more pounds and a few more shoes, until he came to be his own boss,' and bought and sold leather and shoes by the wholesale? He became a traveller likewise; leaving 'down country,' and visiting Utaky, Rome, Newhafford, and down the Unidilly,' and other places in the Empire State.' He came back in due time, however, and 'increased his shoe-business a man a-year;' but that was a sad mistake which he made 'pretty soon after he hired ISAAC KIBBE;' for he curtailed his business and built him a house, forty by thirty-two, with a kitchen thirty-two by nineteen, and wood-house thirty by sixteen, all joining each other, for the purpose of boarding twelve men if wanted, as all journeymen shoe-makers were single men, and no married men at that day worked journey work. Journeymen soon began to get married, when not many except married men were to be hired.' This was an error, certainly; but his best endeavors were not wanting to effect a remedy; for he was now married, and he tells us that being disappointed in the use of the building, he did from time to time fill the house with thirteen of his own children! And he adds, that when his wife died, he himself became not only a father to those children, but a mother also!' And thus he goes on, gradually increasing in substance, adding shop to shop and farm to farm, until he becomes a man proverbially well-to-do;' and now, having elegant leisure' on his hands, he turns his attention to poetry; intermingling with this agreeable intellectual exercitation, however, the duties of militia-colonel, town-officer, and representative to the General Court. But it is as a poet that we are now to regard Mr. BRAGG; and we must content ourselves with a very few illustrative extracts. His Pegasus 'racks' a good deal, but ARIAL sits as firm as a centaur. The Doctrine of Chance' receives its quietus in the first poem, on the fifty-fourth page of the collection :'

6

WHY fancy this so strange a world,
That all by chance is round us hurled;
No argument man can advance

Can ever prove all came by chance.

"The forest trees that towers high,
And lo! the star, the spangled ky;
The splendid sun all glorious shine,
Declare all nature's work divine!

(

'In anger man may raise his sword,
In anger shed his neighbor's blood;
Hindo's in poison dip their lance,
Can never prove all came by chance.

The ebb and flowing of the tide
By man can never be denied ;
The bounding of the seas and flood,
Declares there is all nature's GOD.'

But let us not fritter away space in giving mere passages. We require one entirety' of verse to do justice to Mr. BRAGG's muse. Take then the following poem, which is thus explained: A gentleman on board of a steam-boat from Boston to