Once to gaze on the ocean, Is one look on her. Down drops on his bosom her beautiful head,— III. THE LITTLE GLEANER. VERY fair the child was, with hair of darkest auburn,- Sunshine seem'd the element from which she drew her being. 'Tis a true, sweet lesson; for, in life's actual harvest, L. E. L. LADY CHARLOTTE BURY. (WITH A PORTRAIT.) ON giving the portrait of Lady Charlotte Bury-one of the most distinguished women of her time-we must for the present confine ourselves to presenting a slight sketch of her ladyship's life. She is of illustrious birth, and her forefathers stand recorded in the page of history. Her father, the late Duke of Argyle, the bravest and best of men, mainly contributed to subdue the west of Scotland to the House of Hanover, in the rebellion of 45. He died a Field Marshal, full of years and honour, beloved, revered, and mourned by all who came within the sphere of his influence. Lady Charlotte Bury's mother was the celebrated beauty Miss Gunning, of the ancient family of Morgan, in Ireland; first married to the Duke of Hamilton-secondly to the Duke of Argyle. Her Grace's memory is fondly cherished by her remaining offspring; and among many great and good qualities adorning her high station, she was in an eminent degree the benefactress of the poor. Lady Charlotte Bury, their Graces' youngest daughter, who is the subject of this memoir, has been twice married; first to Colonel Campbell, of Shawfield, descended from the Houses of Lothian and Glencairn, one of the handsomest men of his time; after nine years of widowhood, she married, secondly, Mr. Bury, a gentleman of very superior endowments and worth, originally of an ancient family of Bulpher Hall, Essex, whose ancestors fought in the holy wars, and held honourable posts in the court of Henry VIII. By the first marriage, Lady Charlotte had a numerous family, all beautiful and gifted with various talents, who have married suitably to their high lineage and personal charms. Of these she had the misfortune to lose three; one of them, Elinora, first Countess of Uxbridge, who died in the flower of her youth. By her second marriage, Lady C. Bury had two daughters; Beatrice, who died an infant, and Blanche Augusta Bury, not less handsome than the daughters of her first marriage. Of Lady Charlotte's perfect beauty in her youth there never was a question; but those friends who have known her through life, and value her for higher and more enduring qualities, will dwell with complacency upon those graces of mind, and that truth of character which are preeminently her own. It was not in the fascination of beauty and grace alone that Lady Charlotte excelled; the sweetness and serenity of her temper cast a sunshine on all the intercourse of domestic life, and, amidst the universal homage of the world, she remained unspoiled by its seductions. From her earliest childhood, Lady Charlotte had a genuine love of, and respect for, letters. She cultivated them assiduously, as the writer of this sketch can testify, under very unfavourable circumstances. That she is gifted with the "art unteachable," the art of poetry, there is high testimony to warrant, in a note by Sir Walter Scott, published in an article of the "Edinburgh Review," on Sir Humphrey Davy's Fly Fishing. Amongst Lady Charlotte Bury's works may be named, two volumes of Prayers, Suspirium Sanctorum," dedicated to the late Bishop of Carlisle, Dr. Goodenough; a "Poem on the Sanctuaries of Tuscany;" a series of popular novels, "Flirtation," "Alla Giornata," "The Disinherited,". and "The Ensnared ;” “The Devoted," &c. &c. Considering Lady Charlotte Bury's various avocations, her duties, and her sorrows (of which she has had her bitter share), this list of her works intimates a more honourable and lasting meed of praise, than can be awarded by any other panegyric whatever. It is not the purport of this brief sketch to enter minutely into the details of a life-time, but to present its general outline; and this will, perhaps, be best completed in the words of a deceased poet. "While stranger eyes, where'er thy form is seen, THE HUMORIST. It was by the advice of the new Editor that the periodical publication announced separately under this title, was incorporated with the "New Monthly Magazine." The contributors to both are the same, their object the same-to support one of the most enterprising publishers of the day. It seemed, therefore, to the new functionary, a matter of questionable policy, to say the least of it, to set up a magazine against a magazine, when, with the same outlay of mind and money, they might be combined, and answer all the same purposes. It appears that mirth and gaiety are highly considered in the present day, and that such a work as Mr. Colburn suggested would have been eminently successful. If so, why not throw this additional attraction into the pages of his own already established magazine? Whatever the evil or good may be, which is to arise from this combination, it is wholly attributable to the editor; and he thinks, with great deference to better judgments, that the "HUMORIST," so incorporated, will be found a most valuable substitute for the mere common-place details of occurrences and accidents, which, by the end of a month, have, in the present state of the diffusion of knowledge, become notorious and even stale, through the five thousand newspapers, London, provincial, daily, and weekly, which are published throughout the kingdom. With this slight, but perhaps necessary introduction, we open the first page of the "Humorist" with an apostrophe to CHRISTMAS. Now hoary-headed Winter, like a shivering pauper, with a Ladies, young freeze coat and a hurricane in hand, walks abroad. and old, appear, like the Hartz mountains, covered with furs. The grateful perfume of roasting pippins fills the frosty air, some singing and others hissing, as is the wont in most musical meetings. The fields are glistening with snow, awaiting, like sheep, the coming of Spring, to shear them of their fleecy covering. Now little charity-boys, in leather very-smalls, run about presenting their pieces to the admirers of calligraphy; and Cockneys leave their counters, to present their pieces at little birds. The fishmonger's lad leaves his basket upon the banks of the Serpentine, and exerts his muscles in propelling a solitary skate. Eaves-dropping is at an end! the drip being congelated to a fringe of icicles."George Barnwell" is performed at the theatres, to teach apprentices that, when they are in want of money, they must go to their "uncle's." Cooks are up early, and plums suffer the martyrdom of St. Stephen; and all show their politics by cutting up-peel. - Greengrocers become barbarous; for after cruelly cropping the hollies for the holidays, and misletoes, they take their leaves. Snow-balls and fancy-balls are to be met with in every quarter of the town. Young bucks and old horses appear in |