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WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST PART

Widdlezig. By Theodore Hook, Esq.

The Polar Star. By L. E. L.

Night at Sea. By L. E. L.

Letters from Ireland. By John Carne, Esq. Nos. VI., VII.

The True History of a Great Pacificator. By Henry Brownrigg, Esq.

Scenes in the Life of an Adventurer. Nos. II., III.
Shakspeare's Historical Plays considered Historically. By the Right

Hon. T. P. Courtenay. Nos. VIII., IX., X.

Personal Narrative of Tristram Dumps, Esq.

57, 236, 346

80, 258, 306

The Lesson of Life: a Household Romance. By Douglas Jerrold, Esq.
Concluded

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Shakspeare's Drinking-bout: a Tale of the Toping at Bidford. By J. B.
Buckstone

Memoir of Mrs. Trollope. By a Correspondent. (With a Portrait)
Odd People. By Theodore Hook, Esq.
Ataraxia. By the Hon. Mrs. Norton

Falkenstein

More Leaves from Mr. Keeley's Journal

The Mayor of Hole-cum-Corner. A Legend. By Douglas Jerrold, Esq.
Is there an Unbeliever! By Thomas Haynes Bayly, Esq.
The Picker and Piler. By N. P. Willis, Esq.

The Prince of Darkness. By George Raymond, Esq.
The Carol of the Coronation. By Sir Lumley Skeffington
Boar-hunting. By the Old Forest Ranger

Poor Relations. By Edward Howard, Esq.

Who can the Dear One be? By J. H. Hartnoll

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Literature of the Month (for JANUARY):-The Only Daughter: a

Domestic Story. Edited by the Author of “The Subaltern,"

"The

Hussar," &c.-A Book of the Passions. By G. P. R. James, Esq.

-The Life of George Washington, his Decrees, Speeches, &c. By

Jared Sparks.--Pictures of the World. By C. Plumer Ward, Esq.,

Author of "Tremaine," 'De Vere,"

"Human Life," &c.

(for FEBRUARY):-Statistics of the Colonies of the

British Empire. By Robert Montgomery Martin, Esq.-The Ro-

mance of the Harem. By Miss Pardoe.-Excursions in the Interior

of Russia, &c. By Robert Bremner, Esq.

66

(for MARCH):-The Idler in Italy. By the Countess
of Blessington.-The Youth of Shakspeare. By the Author of "Shak-
speare and his Friends."-Horace Vernon; or, Life in the West.—
The Deluge: a Drama. By J. E. Reade, Esq.

(for APRIL):-The Fergusons.-The Popular Songs

of Ireland. By T. Crofton Croker, Esq.-The Art of Painting. Translated

from the French of Mérimée. By W. B. Sarsfield Taylor, Esq.-The

Life of "Monk" Lewis.-Scenes at Home and Abroad. By H. B. Hall,

Esq.-The Fall of Warsaw: a Poem in Three Cantos.-Illustrated Pub-

lications in Monthly Parts: The History of Napoleon. The Arabian

Nights' Entertainments Heads of the People. The Factory Boy.

By Mrs. Trollope. The Songs of Béranger.-Drinking in the United

Kingdom. By J. Dunlop.-Trials of the Heart. By Mrs. Bray.-

On Blushing. By Dr. Burgess.-Geology of the West of England.

By Henry T. de la Beche, F.R.S.-Aid to Memory. By a Cambridge

M.A.-National Education. By R. T. Stothard.-The Nelson Monu-

ment. By Dr. Granville.-Home Service; or, Scenes and Characters

from Life, at Out and Head Quarters. By Benson Earle Hill, Esq.

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THE

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

WIDD LEZIG.

BY THE EDITOR.

So much has been said and written on the truism touching the turning of great events upon small ones, that it might seem, in the year 1838—(alas ! before this reaches the reader's eye, it will be 1839) something like a work of supererogation to endeavour to bring any thing to light, which has for its avowed object a further illustration of a doctrine so universally received. But having, in a pursuit after light reading for leisure hours, discovered, some six weeks since, a work in eleven volumes (large quarto), written by a shamefully-neglected German author-the Baron Von Źlippzlopp--devoted to a new exemplification of the wonderful results of trimes, I could not resist the desire of bringing it in some shape before my readers.

Having, in the course of a month, skimmed the surface of the work, it appeared to me that a literal translation, of Baron Zlippzlopp's eleven volumes would be somewhat too much for the generality of English readers ; and although the liberality of our leading publishers (there are exceptions to all general rules) never was more remarkable than at the present moment, still it seemed doubtful whether even the princely munificence of Albemarle-street itself, could be justly exhibited towards go elaborated a history, turning, as it does, upon a subject which I-perhaps unjustly as regards the baron-conceived might be Pemmicaned into a comparatively few pages. If, in consequence of my presumptuous endeavours to compress, I destroy the effect of his eleven volumes, my only comfort is, that the Baron Zlippzlopp now rests under the floor of the church of St. Peter at Heidelberg, not likely to be disturbed by the noise of reviews or the explosion of magazines.

The history of Widdlezig-unquestionably true-is one which, I fear, must suffer much from the compression of which I speak; but it will suffer more from the necessary omission of the baron's reflections and considerations, comparisons and deductions, and all such other adjuncts to the main history. However, if the incidents which occur in the course of the narrative seem to come huddling on, helter-skelter, too rapidly, and without due and prudential well-regulated order, the reader must make allowances, from knowing that eleven volumes of philosophy and argument have been, for the especial service of this month, squeezed into twice as many pages.

I have taken one liberty with the author, which, considering he is in Jan,--VOL. LV. NO. CCXVII.

B

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his grave, I have done with the greater security. His book is written in the first person, and Widdlezig's story is made a narrativeI have ventured to let Widdlezig speak for himself, and instead of trusting to Zlippzlopp's interpretation, allow him, as I find him capable of doing, to express his own feelings under all the curious circumstances with which he was mixed up.--Henceforth then, WIDDLEZIG LOQUITUR.

“ So my dear Baron Zlippzlopp, you are anxious to hear my history," said I, to the dearest friend I ever had, and the soundest philosopher I ever knew.

" I am," said Zlippzlopp. “ Well then And after this, I shall omit all the questions and answers, 47,586 of which, with their answers, occupy tour volumes and a half of the work, and let Widdlezig's narrative go on, as if he were publishing his memoirs, instead of conversing with his friend.

It is a wise child that knows his own father, said I (Widdlezig)—to know his mother is not quite so difficult an affair ; but I knew neither father nor mother. My male parent, as I have since learned, was somewhere about seventy when he married my female parent, who was at the time twenty-two, and from what I can collect, particularly fond of hussars and poodles. After the honeymoon, when my respectable father, whose appearance at the time of his third marriage (having had no issue by the two first), with my mother, reminded every body who saw him of the official description of a line-of-battle ship in an admiralty-list, pierced for eighty-two, but carrying seventy-four, chose to make a tour of Europe with his lady, partly to amuse her and partly to avoid the remarks of his kind and considerate friends and neighbours. They were accompanied by a Count Waggenheim, and a beautiful milk-white curly poodle—quite a love of a dog-to whom it appeared the young Baroness Widdlezig's affections were devoted; or if not exclusively devoted, divided only by the charming Waggenheim.

Well, of all the beauty of the tour, and all the odd adventures, and the

way in which my poor dear father walked out at this place to see a view, or rode out at another place to see a

iend, or how my young mother staid at home when my father was out, or how she went out when he staid at home, or how the poodle was washed and curled, or how the Count Waggenheim and the Baroness sang duets in the shade in the summer, or took exercise in the cool of the autumn, or whatever it was, I, of course, recollect nothing, seeing that I was not born; but, at last, I was born ; and, although unconscious of the fact at the time myself, I have since heard, that however delighted my father might have been at such an acquisition, my mother, whose habits, tastes, and principles had conduced to make her think that such a“ pledge” (as a child is called) was a most inconvenient addition to the travelling party, considered me as something which would greatly interfere with the comforts of their journey after her recovery, and especially with the accommodation of her darling poodle, for which, as we have seen, she had the greatest regard.

Now, it so happened, that, in the town where my dear parent's confinement-quite unexpected by my father, for they had not been married

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