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Poetry.

TRANSLATION OF A FRAGMENT OF SIMONIDES.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,-In the following lines I have attempted a translation of the beautiful fragment of Simonides on Danae and her infant Perseus, preserved in Dionysius Halicarnassus, which I do not remember to have seen in an English dress. The sense of the original is given almost literally; the spirit I could only hope to imitate. Liverpool, January 1, 1828.

When the winds, in stern commotion,

Broke upon the fragile bark,

And the dread tumultuous ocean
Rose in terror, wild and dark;

Round her Perseus, thus deploring,
Then a mother's arms were flung;
Tears of bitterness while pouring,

Thus a mother's griefs she sung:-
"While rude floods of sorrow swelling,
Fill my bosom with distress;
Thou, within this joyless dwelling,
Slumberest,-child of gentleness!
"Frailest, narrowest limits bound us,
And devouring waves are high;
Night, with all her gloom, is round us,
And the tempest walks the sky.
"Clad in purple robe, above thee,
O'er thy locks and lovely form,
Passing billows may not move thee,
Nor the voices of the storm.

"Could wild fear, to thee a stranger,

H. W. J.

Raise one throb in thy young heart, Thou would'st heed, amidst the danger, What a mother's lips impart.

"Though uneasy be thy pillow,

Sleep, oh! sweetly sleep, my child! Sleep, too, oh, thou restless billow!

Sleep, my sorrows, scarce less wild! "Still may aid, thou King of heaven, Father Jove, appear from thee; And one dating wish be given, Vengeance of my child for me!"

THE MARINER'S RETURN.

Where are the joys that cheer'd my heart,
In earlier days and happier hours?
Where are the hopes that soothed me then?
Gone! perish'd all! like faded flowers.
Where is my childhood's happy home,

That rose amid the peaceful vale?
Where are my friends, my kindred, now,
Whom I had fondly hoped to hail?

I see the winding river fair,

Its banks all clothed in gladsome green, I see the lofty, lovely hills,

That grace and grandeur give the scene.

This is my own dear native vale,

These are the scenes that charm'd my view In earlier days and happier hours, When hope was high and life was new.

But now I gaze, with tearfuleye,

On wood, on river, hill, and plain ;
And, oh! my heart throbs wild with grief,
Nor home, nor kindred, here remain !
My father's voice I cannot hear,

Alas! he sleeps beneath the sod;
His kind and upright heart is still,
His faithful soul is now with God.
Ah! little deem'd this hapless heart,

When last I left my native plain,
That I should ne'er behold him more,
Nor hear his blessed voice again.
Once more to hail her wand'ring boy,
No tender mother meets me now,
She left her own lov'd native vale
With aching heart and care-worn brow.
Misfortune's storms on her have blown,-
On her have burst the clouds of woe;
Alas! that such a generous heart

So much of sorrow's power should know. And now no sister meets me here,

With tears of gladness on her cheek,
To bid her brother welcome home,
'Mid sylvan scenes his bliss to seek.
Then fare thee well my native plain !

I may not longer tarry near;

My heart! my heart throbs wild with grief; My home, my kindred, are not here!

Again I trust the stormy deep,

Again I brave the angry blast;

I will not, cannot, longer stay

My days of pleasure here are past. Where are the joys that cheered my heart, In earlier days and happier hours? Where are the hopes that soothed me thenGone! perished all-like faded flowers! Constitution-street, Leith.

LOVE-SICK WILLY.

(From the Connecticut Herald.)

ANNA.

The writer of the following piece bids fair to rival Mr Thomas Hood, in the superlatively ridiculous.

One Willy Wright, who kept a store,
But nothing kept therein,
Save earthen jugs, and some few kegs,
Of whiskey, ale, and gin,
Grew sick, and often would exclaim,
"Oh, how my heart does burn!"
And every week the poor man lived,
He had a weakly turn.

Now, when they saw him thus decline,
Some said that death must come ;
Some wondered what his ail could be,
Some said his ale was rum.

At last the very cause was known,
Of every pang he felt;
Remote, at one end of the town,
Miss Martha Towns-end dwelt,
A portly, love-resisting dame,
Contemptuous, proud, and haughty;
But yet, though "fat, and forty" too,
She was not two-and-forty.

And Willy long had sought and sigh'd,
To gain this pretty maid;
"I have no trade," said he " so, sure,
My love can't be betray'd."
To Martha, then, he trembling went,
And said, "My dear, 'tis true,
Though I have nothing in my store,
I've love in store for you.
"And if thou wilt, thou may'st become,"
But here his tongue was tied;
And though she will'd him, yet she said,
She ne'er would be his bride.

Then turning Willie out of doors,

She said, "Go, go along;

I hate the man who's always Wright,
Yet always doing wrong.'

"I leave you, then," said he, " farewell;
Of peace I'm now bereft;
If I am always Wright and wrong,
You must be right, and left."
So then he clos'd his little store,
Shut up each door and blind;
And settled his accounts and died,
And left no Will behind.

THE LAWS OF WHIST.

(From a Poem, entitled Whist, canto 4.)

The cards to shuffle long as may him suit,
Is every player's right, without dispute;
But when this right through all the hands has pa
Still with the dealer it should rest at last,
Who, ere he deals, should have the painted band
Cut by the person on his better hand,
As, else, th' unlawful hand will never stand.
If, in the pack, a card display its face,
He must begin again, in such a case;
And should he one in dealing chance to turn,
The foes, if so inclined, that deal may spurn.
But if he gives not each his number due,
To one too many, or to one too few,
He then must be content the deal to lose,
Unless his luck supplies the sole excuse,
That, while he dealt, by either of the foes
The cards were touched, for then, we may suppe,
From them, and not from him, the fault arose.
Still on the board the whole commencing rou,
Let his trump card exposed to view be found;
Nor, after that, though you may trump inquire,
Can you of it another sight desire.

Let each, before he plays, his hand review,
And mark if he possess the number due;
For should he not, and yet proceed to play
Till he perceives at last a card away,
He must, for each revoke, the forfeit pay.
Let each with constant eye the board survey,
Nor ask another what he chanced to play,
Though he may bid him draw his card away.
Nor here, as in your former game, quadrille,
May one examine all the tricks at will;
The latest can alone return to sight;
The rest must ne'er again behold the light.
The card which once has fairly touch'd the board,
Must never more be to the hand restored.
When, from mistake, as it at times proceeds,
The one rash partner for the other leads,
Then may the foes a just occasion seize
To make his brother play what suit they please;
And for that card which was so keen to fall,
They have a right at any time to call.

For each revoke your foe may chance to make,
From his collected tricks you three can take;
Or from his score, if tricks he yet has none,
Take down three points, or add them to your ow
But this to do you ne'er can urge the right,
Until the trick is turn'd, and out of sight,
Tho' then its influence boasts a fairer claim
Than any other score in all the game.
The tricks, fair children of superior skill,
Before the casual honours reckon still.
Remember, always when the hand is o'er,
At once your honours and your tricks to score;
For should you wait till trumps be turn'd again,
Your right you then may claim, but claim in vain.
But if beyond the truth you chance to go,
Your score, diminished, must enrich the foe.
The proper season on your friend to call,
Is just before your hand a card lets fall;
A moment later, and you lose the claim,
And ev'n a moment sooner is the same.

But when the trump has once appeared in sight,
Let none remind his friend of calling's right.
Although of tricks one side should make them all,
That rarest triumph, which a slam we call,
Yet they from this no profit e'er must claim,
Which would not suit the spirit of the game.

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BATHOS AND PATHOS.

Our readers may probably recollect a mock dirge, which began thus:

"She's gone, who once was here,

She's gone and the silent tear," &c. young friend, who has seen this precious piece of bathos none of the Liverpool papers, has sent us the following ounterpart, which is quite equal to the original in sentigent and originality.

ANOTHER DIRGE!

She's come, who once was gone!
She's come! and the lovely one
Bids sorrow smile!

The drooping lily rears its head,
And all its bloom that once was fled,
Returns awhile!

She's come! oh, blissful sound!

In halcyon bowers, with ivy crowned,
Ye flowers rejoice!

Let heavenly harmony arise!
While every little flutterer tries

His blithsome voice.

She's come!-ah, why that watery eye? With her I'll live-with her I'll die, Whatever lot come!

Rejoice all nature !-for she's come,

Who once was not come!

N THE INTERMENT OF THE LATE REV. J. DUNN, OF PRESTON.

Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit.

hand Yes, they were notes of grief; but not the wail bOf widowed love,-intense, despairing, wild;

Nor the lone orphan's plaint, that all so pale,
d cold, and still, his sire heeds not his hapless child!

It did not seem as if some trophied one,
From the wild scene of raging battle borne,

Had slept the sleep-his work of carnage done;-@warrior forms were there the lowly dead to mourn! There was no pomp or circumstance to tell A people's ruler gathered to repose; No courtly pageants the procession swell, things of gorgeous art the wakeless dust inclose! 'Twas not the tax of phrenzy bursting loud, If fell despair, or vengeance-muttering dread, The vain effusion of a silken crowd, hollow compliment of incense to the dead!

W

No, 'twas the grieving of a Christian throng, Robb'd of a chief by Death's relentless hand

Heaven's choir had gained the accession of a song, hoary saint had reached that brighter, blissful land! This sorrow hence-for nature claims a tear, Though the departed but be gone to rest; Nor does bereavement light the less severe, hen worth is call'd away to mingle with the blest! There came the meagre child of want and woe,

VERSES ADDRESSED TO A LADY WHO PROMISED THE WRITER THAT SHE WOULD REMEMBER HIM IN HER PRAYERS.

The last time we parted you promised me fair,
To bear me in mind in your very next prayer,
And ask of kind Heaven, in its goodness to grant,
The thing of all others I fancy I want;
But ere you commence your benevolent task,
Permit me to hint, what I'd have you to ask :-
Know, then, lovely suppliant, the thing I most prize,
Is to bask in the smiles of my mistress's eyes;
So pray not for titles, for honours, or pelf,
Pray only for one thing; let that be-YOURSELF.
Liverpool, 1818.

ΤΟ

BY WILLIAM ROSCOE. (From the Winter's Wreath) As when the sun in clouds descends, And storms and darkness close the day, The moon her milder lustre lends To guide the wanderer on his way; So, 'midst affliction's darkest night, A gleam was in thy friendship found; A constant, pure, unchanging light, That brighten'd all th' horizon round. Thou, then, these winter-flowers receive, For these of right to thee belong; And with them-all I now can give My kindest wish, my latest song.

No. IX.

SPECIMENS OF THE ELDER POETS. BY PERCIVAL MELBOURNE.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE.

This eminent poet and dramatist was born about the year 1562. Of the earlier part of his life there is no account extant; consequently, I am unacquainted with the progress he made in learning previous to being entered at Benét College, Cambridge, where he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1583, and Master of Arts in 1587. The peculiar turn of his genius for dramatic compositions probably induced him to adopt the stage as a profession; for, about the year 1590, he became an actor as well as a dramatist. He was the author of six tragedies, all of which enjoyed considerable reputation in their day, and also, in conjunction with his intimate friend Nash, wrote another. He translated the first book of Lucan's " Pharsalia,' "The Rape of Helen," of Coluthus, some of Ovid's "Elegies," and, at the time of his death, had made considerable progress in "Hero and Leander," a beautiful poem, which was afterwards finished by George Chapman.

Marlowe is accused by Wood of openly avowing Atheisin; but as other writers are silent on that head, I am inclined to think he was only a freethinker, which, in those days, would subject him to such an accusation. His death,

Whose visage wan seemed blanch'd by bleak despair-which took place in 1593, was occasioned by a stab from
He heaved a sigh to heaven-and then below
the dark yawning grave, as if his hopes were there.
And ghost-like forms emaciate thronged around-
Pale withering victims they, of wan disease,

Had crawled and trembled to the hallowed ground,

o witness, ere their own, their friend's sad obsequies!

The widow lone, the orphan desolate,

Showed all unstaunched the founts of other years;
The husband, father, lay in low estate,

Who soothed their bitter lot, and wiped away their tears.

Such the lament, and such the mourners were, Who round the tomb a hallowed glory shed; Though men of sanctity and learning there

Mingled with wealth, to grieve above the righteous dead!

Blest is the dead! his lot supremely blest!

He still survives in deeds of charity:
Though dead to mortal ill,-his is the rest

Which knows no break,-the bliss which blooms immortally.

Preston.

ALPHA.

a livery-servant, whom Marlowe found with his mistress; which so incensed him, that he drew a dagger (a weapon then commonly worn) and rushed upon the intruder, who wrested the dagger from his master's hand and plunged it into his head.

DESCRIPTION OF HERO.

From "Hero and Leander."

Hero the fair, Whom young Apollo courted for her hair; And offer'd as a dower his burning throne, Where she should sit for men to gaze upon. The outside of her garments was of lawn, The lining, purple silk, with gilt stars drawn, Her wide sleeves green and bordered with a grove, Where Venus in her naked glory strove

To please the careless and disdainful eyes
Of proud Adonis, that before her lies;
Her kirtle blue, whereon was many a stain,
Made with the blood of wretched lovers slain.
Upon her head she wore a myrtle wreath,
From whence her veil reach'd to the ground beneath.
Her veil was artificial flowers and leaves,
Whose workmanship both man and beast deceives.
Many would praise the sweet smell as she pass'd,
When 'twas the odour which her breath forth cast.
And there for honey bees have sought in vain,
And beat from thence, have lighted there again.
About her neck hung chains of pebble stone,
Which, light'ned by her neck, like diamonds shone.
She wore no gloves; for neither sun nor wind
Would burn or parch her hands, but to her mind,
Or warm or cool them, for they took delight
To play upon those hands, they were so white.
Buskins of shells, all silver'd, used she;
And blanch'd with blushing coral to the knee;
Where sparrows perch'd, of hollow pearl and gold,
Such as the world would wonder to behold:
Those with sweet water oft her handmaid fills,
Which, as she went, would cherup through the bills.
Some say, for her the fairest Cupid pin'd,
And looking in her face was stricken blind.
But this is true; so like was one the other,
That he imagin'd HERO was his mother:
And oftentimes into her bosom flew;
About her naked neck his bare arms threw ;
And laid his childish head upon her breast,
And, with still panting rock, there took his rest.
So lovely fair was Hero, Venus' nun,
As Nature wept, thinking she was undone,
Because she took more from her than she left,
And of such wond'rous beauty her bereft ;
Therefore, in sign her treasure suffered wreck,
Since Hero's time hath half the world been black.
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.*

Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee beds of roses,
With a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle,
Embroidered all with leaves of mirtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin'd choicely from the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw, and ivie buds,
With coral clasps, and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my love.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

I have in my possession two copies of this exquisite lyrical composition, which differ very materially. Not knowing which is the original, I have adopted the most simple and beautiful.

FRAGMENT.

By this Apollo's golden harp began,
To send forth music to the ocean,
Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heard,
But he the Day's bright bearing car prepared,
And ran before, as harbinger of light,
And with his flaming beams mock'd ugly night.

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Miscellanies.

THE TURKS.

Every thing relating to the manners and customs of this singular people, possessing at the present moment, when the public attention is so forcibly drawn towards them, a peculiar species of interest, we shall not need any other apology for laying before our readers the following skitches; the first two are from the London Weekly Resir, and the others are from a new publication entitled, ** Deux Annees à Constantinople et en Moree, &c.," by one of the suite of Count Guilleminot, the Frenchi ambasador at the Ottoman Porte.

CONSTANTINOPLE.

The capital of the Ottoman empire, where our ambassaor smoke, drink coffee, and dance at the most splendid alls in the world, is exteriorly the most beautiful city on th. It is looking upon a magic scene to view it in the orting from the water. The sun, rising on the right hind the Asiatic hills, throws an inconceivable brilliancy te the sea, which, bounded on every side by verdant res, heaves like a mass of molten gold beneath its On both sides, green meadows and tufted groves efesh and gladden the eye. And the city itself, with its hant many-coloured mosques, its gardens, its cemets, where the evergreen cypress flourishes, and its lofty ial minarets towering over its Mussulman temples, tters like a fairy creation in the sun. Add to this the pumerable caiques, or long gilded barges, which, with air picturesque and solemn-looking crews, glide over the in a thousand directions; and you have a scene worth ling three thousand miles to behold.

THE SULTAN AND HIS NEW ARMY.

severe; and when an individual beholds his house a prey to the flames, he exclaims, "All is well, provided the Prophet is satisfied." The Christian inhabitants of Constantinople require a firman to allow them to build houses of stone.

THE BATHS.

TURKISH MUSIC.

Grand Seignior imagines that it behoves the representative of the Prophet to keep himself inaccessible. Widely different from our princes, who, classing affability among the royal virtues, multiply receptions of all kinds, the Turk imagines them to compromise his grandeur, and would suppress them entirely if he could do it without weakening his policy. The ambassadors see his Highness only twice Baths are numerous at Constantinople, and remarkable during the term of their embassy-at their arrival and at for their neatness; but let no one imagine that in these their departure. All affairs are carried on through the establishments, as in our own, each has his particular dragomans, or interpreters attached to the different lega- closet. You commence by entering a vast hall, round tions. They treat every two or three days with the Otto- which are ranged several beds. You quit your clothes, man ministers. The first audience granted by the Sultan and are enveloped in a large blue coverlet; a bather then to an ambassador is solemn. Count Guilleminot having conducts you to a second hall, far less than the first, had his some time before my arrival in this country, I where the heat becomes perceptible: thence you are led could not assist at it; but I profited by that obtained by into a third, where the temperature is still more elevated; the representative of the king of Holland, who willingly to a fourth, and sometimes to a fifth, where the heat is invited me. The day on which an ambassador is called suffocating. In these last halls are small marble basins, upon to remit his credentials to his Highness, an escort, placed near the walls; above each is a cock supplying composed of three or four hundred troops, is sent to him warm, and another cold water. The person to be bathed by the Porte; it is a custom, the origin of which is of places himself near one of the basins; a boy in attendance considerable antiquity. This honour was reserved exclu- rubs him with a sort of comb, which raises the skin, sively to the janizaries, the first military body of the covers him with a lather of soap, and lastly rinces him by empire. They accepted it readily, as a gratuity always throwing frequent sluicings of water on his head. This accompanied this service. At five in the morning, nume- is what is called a bath à la Turque. I forgot to say, that rous companies of janizaries, in full accoutrements, were before these singular ceremonies, a servant forcibly presses collected at the gate of the Dutch Palace at Pera. They your arms and legs, and causes all the joints of your body ranged themselves in march at the head of the procession; to crack, to render you more active. After the bath, you afterwards came the ambassador, his secretaries, interpre- return to the first apartment, dress yourself, and take ters, and the principal Dutch merchants, all on horseback.coffee. Descending thus to the sea coast at Galata, we were received into caiques handsomely decorated, and we passed to the Turkish quarter. The Toptchi-bachi (chief of the cannoniers) and some officers of the palace, whom the Grand Turk had sent before us, attended us to the beach; we were then furnished with horses, richly caparisoned, One word of the new troops. It is certain that Mahmoud and in this state were conducted to the seraglio, where we sa great deal of the spirit of a reformer: he has adopted entered a kiosk, the pavilion destined for our reception. European military cap, or ass's cap, as the old soldiers After some moments, the grand vizier, the Sultan's prime it in derision; he repairs to the spot where the troops minister, appeared; he took his place of precedence over : exercised, which is the Atmeidan, or ancient Hippo- a full divan, where were found near him, the Mufti, or me, marches backward and forward on foot, handles head of their religion; Aga Pasha, of whom I shall speak word, fires his pistol, and does every thing to encou-hereafter, and Kutchuk Pasha, prefect of the Asiatic prothem by his example. To reconcile them the more vinces, situated on the banks of the Bosphorus and the sea y to his reforms, he allows them the use of wine and of Marmora. After a repast followed by coffee, and a k; and, indeed, the ordinary rations consist of black display of the presents from Holland, the author proceeds: Fad and hog's lard, which must be very delicious eating. We were at length introduced to the presence of the silence those silly politicians who exist in every great Grand Turk, whom I saw for the first time. He was in , and expend their wisdom over a pot of porter, a an apartment, the tapestry of which was of superb cashttle of wine, or a bowl of Sherbet or a coffee cup, the mere; he was seated, cross-legged, on a throne covered altan has commanded the principal coffee-houses to be with jewels, and surmounted by a brilliant canopy. He 4sed, and has thus saved the true Mussulmans from the wore a pelisse of green stuff, trimmed with the fur of the of talking a great deal of nonsense. It is even believed black fox of Russia; a poignard, studded with diamonds, it be suspects there may be something seditious in was at his breast, and an egret fastened by a cluster of Fracco, and will shortly prohibit smoking; in which case diamonds, decorated his magnificent turban. Mahmoud eat many pipe-makers will be put in the Gazette. The is a large and well-built man; his features are hard; he ncipal opposition to the barrack-system, arising from has a quick eye, a countenance of assurance, and an attimarried part of the army, who could not conceive how tude bold and imposing." y were to desert their harems in the city, or bring Musman women among a horde of soldiers, his Majesty After speaking of the fanaticism of the Turks, it belered such of his troops as had wives to be strangled and hoves me to notice their superstition: this is pushed to @wn into the sea. Of the other rebellious janizaries, the extreme. They are resigned to fatality in the most eye witness declares, that upwards of ten thousand were extraordinary degree; and the word Kismet, by which an also into the Bosphorus, with stones tied to their they express it, is incessantly in their mouths. They ks, both to keep them down that they might not im- thank Kismet for the good that may happen, and derive the course of the caiques, and to prevent their num-consolation from the same under all reverses. This absurd being known. But although these true believers thus belief, carried even to stupidity, gives rise to the most intly submitted to be drowned, they would not con- fatal precedents. Hence they take no precautions against tend to have their hair cut short. His Majesty had either fire or plague, that scourge, which the natural salu fr over their lives, but their salvation-locks and whis-brity of the clime, and the favourable position of Constanti. were their own, and they would defend them. This nople, ought to remove for ever from them. Quarantines duct was very rational. Every Islamite, as is well are unknown in Turkey, or at least, they are unwilling ra, wears a long tuft of hair on the crown of his head, to establish them. The disease also makes more than orwhich his guardian angel is to lift him up to heaven er death. To cut off this would be to deprive him of hope of mercy, or Houries' love; and it was with the eatest reason, therefore, that he resisted so atrocious an piety.

AUDIENCE OF THE AMBASSADORS.

64

FATALISM OF THE TURKS.

Plays, balls, and concerts, are diversions unknown in Turkey. We may also pronounce their cars to be but slightly musical, there being scarcely any other instruments than the mandalino, the tambourine, and the country pipe. Among the Turks, harmony has not been subjected to the same laws as with us, and the number of their airs is small: the Ottomans have not the art of writing them out. The notation of their music after our own method would be very difficult, as their measure is vague, indeterminate, and mixed with discordancies, with the exception of some few airs where it is distinct, and adapted to the verses sung, scanning them with accuracy, and without passing through many degrees of the gamut. But these two species of song, offering no variety of into nation, appear, from their monotony, to be only fit to express one solitary idea. What has struck me the more forcibly in this music, is, that generally the minor key predominates. I have frequently heard the Turks sing, accompanying themselves on the mandalino, and have rarely distinguished a passage in a major key. Since the establishment of the nizam djedid, the regiments are preceded by bands. What was my astonishment one day on recog nising the air Vive Henri Quatre! I leave to the ima gination of my readers the manner of its execution.

It is not often that we find any thing to copy from that at once silly, canting, and impure melange, containing an odd mixture of pious orthodoxy, licentious ribaldry, and low scurrility, published every “ Sabbath” morning under the title of the John Bull. Lately, however, we discovered an article possessing some humorous hits, played off in language to which no reasonable exception can be taken; and, therefore, we present it to our readers, in the hope, that they will not enjoy it the less, from any considerations about the character of the source from which it is drawn.

POLICE EXTRAORDINARY.

From the John Bull."

Tuesday last, Frederick Robinson was brought before the sitting Magistrate at Bow-street, to answer to a charge of quitting his master's service without giving him due warning.

dinary ravages, and is propagated with greater facility, from the circumstance of the relatives and friends of the patients approaching and attending them fearlessly. Should one or more of them become attacked, which fre. quently occurs, the cause is not imputed to imprudence, but to the Kismet. We have already said that the freThe ambassadors at the Ottoman Porte are those of quent fires have also their origin in the Kismet. At tance, England, Russia, and Holland: Austria has an certain periods, thanks to this superstitious resignation of ternuncio at Constantinople; Prussia and Sweden, mi- the Turks, great part of Constantinople and whole towns sters plenipotentiary; and Naples and Denmark, chargés present a hideous theatre of ruin and desolation. What affaires. These envoys of the different powers have each riches, what monuments are constantly devoured by the ards allotted to them by the Porte, which precede them flames! how many families reduced to the most frightful henever they go anywhere. Formerly these were jani- misery! But here the Mussulman says, "if it have been aries, clad after a different manner from the janizaries of destined that, at such a period, our house must be burned, le barracks, and despised and hated by their comrades all we could do would not hinder the evils which threaten humbling themselves to serve those who were not of us: whether we build in stone or build in wood, Fate be faithful, for hire; but since the new organization, these will have its course." It is, moreover, expressly forbidanizaries have been replaced by other guards. It would den by their religion, to construct houses of stone. The of the case:*wrong to suppose that the envoys of the powers have Turks pretend that the doing so would have an air of frequent or easy access to the presence of the Sultan. The defiance of fate. God would send calamities yet more all this?

It appeared in evidence, that Robinson had some months agoengaged himself to drive the Sovereign stage coach, but finding himself unable to manage the horses, and being also apprehensive of the issue of several complaints to be lodged against him at the next quarter sessions, for careless and unskilful driving-he, the said Robinson, did, last Thursday se'nnight, just as the Sovereign was to leave London, quit the service of his master, and set off to some relations he has in Bedfordshire; since which time, every effort has been made to get him back to his work without success. The following examination will best explain the nature Magistrate.-Well, Robinson, what have you to say to

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Robinson.-Yes, Sir, many years; and in his Honour's father's sarvice too.

Magistrate. And did you never try to drive before? Robinson.-No, your Worship. I vas first of all bookkeeper, and then I had to pay the men in the yard, and look after the corn bills, and all that-and afterwards master set me up in the Checquers, and a prosperous time I had on't there.

Magistrate. And then you tried to better yourself? Robinson.-Yes, Sur, that was he; I thought driving would be good for my health, of which I am particular careful at all times.

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Robinson. I have no objection whatsumever, provided
always, your Worship, that I am let to go before the ses-
sions, which begins the 22d of next month.

Magistrate. Why, you are not afraid or ashamed of
any thing you have done, Robinson?
Robinson. Both, and please your Worship; I never
meant wrong: but things have all gone wrong, and the
sooner I get to rest, the better pleased I shall be.
Magistrate. But, if your master should not get a ser-
vant he can trust?

Robinson. Why, then, Sir, master must get a coach
as will go by steam: it would be the making of Squire
Lambton, your Worship; and as for hot water, the Oppo-

Magistrate.-Pray now, Robinson, speaking of health, did'nt your dispute with your master arise about some al-sition will keep 'um in that. lowance of spirits in bad weather?

Robinson. Why, I believe I did say, your Worship, that I thought he ought to make me an allowance of Hollunds.

Magistrate.-Robinson, you are a wag.
Robinson. Your Worship is the first gemman as ever
was pleased to say so.

Magistrate. Well, will you go back for the present? Magistrate. I thought you said you were careful of Robinson Why, Sir, its of no use, for I can't neither your health, and I am sure that would do you no good-drive nor lead without fear of accident; but if you pleases was that all you haggled about? to speak to master, I have no objection to stay over Christ Robinson. I can't say as how it was, your Worship-mas with him: but I won't go and be badgered up at the we don't, somehow, live comfortably in the yard, and I'm sessions. all for a quiet life; and I know'd about Christmas time, the coach would be loaded with turkey baskets, and I did'nt like such a cargo; and so I said to Sly-bootsMagistrate.-Who is Sly-boots? Robinson-His name is George, only we calls him Sly. boots, for shortness.

Magistrate.-What other name has he? Robinson.-Tierney, your Worship; and he and one Petty, which is a new sarvant, is always a quarrelling, and if Tierney speaks sharp to Petty, saving your Worship's presence, he swears he'll take the broom to him; and its not pleasant, by no means, living in that ere state of fantigue.

Magistrate.-Has Petty been long in the yard? Robinson.-Master hired him to stay at home and take care of the office when I took to driving-he has been in sarvice afore, but they don't trust him to drive now, because when he did drive, he ris all the fares nearly double what they vas ven he first came to us.

self?

Magistrate-Go your way, then, Robinson, and we'll
see what can be done for you.
Robinson.-Good morning, your Worship, and thank
Robinson left the office; and we believe has arranged
to remain in his present place for a few days, until his
master is suited.

you.

MANNERS OF EUROPEAN NATIONS.

The following collection, communicated some time since by a correspondent J. W. S., has been mislaid, which has occasioned the delay in its insertion.

A French publication, in all the affectation of quintescent perspicuity, has announced the following characteristics of several countries of modern Europe:

In religion, the German is unbelieving, the Englishman devout, the Frenchman zealous, the Italian ceremonious, the Spaniard a bigot.

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The women are housewives in Germany, Queens i England, ladies in France, captives in Italy, slaves in Spa In courage, the German resembles a bear, the Engin man a lion, the Frenchman an eagle, the Italian a fox, Spaniard an elephant.

In the sciences, the German is a pedant, the English man a philosopher, the Frenchman has a smattering every thing, the Italian is a professor, the Spaniard a pro found thinker.

Munificence: In Germany, the princes; in Engla the ships; in France, the court; in Italy, the churches in Spain, the armories,-are magnificent.

Husband: In Germany they are masters; in Engl servants; in France, companions; in Italy, school-be and in Spain, tyrants.

The foregoing is as firmly believed in Paris as the k coran at Constantinople. So much for the flippy French taste and French prejudices.

Improved Landing-places, &c. in the Mersey.-Web seen the plan of Mr. Thomas Lunt, of Chester, for var improvements on the river Mersey, and we think t worthy the attention of those to whom it was addres the Mayor and inhabitants of Liverpool-The wat safe and commodious landing-places has long been e plained of; and Mr. Lunt's plan, if adopted, seems like to supply these desiderata. The most novel, and, i opinion, the most useful part of the scheme is the prope suspension-pier, formed at low-water mark, and extend from Woodside to Birkenhead. By means of this a and agreeable landing might be effected at all times; sels of a much larger class than those generally in might be employed to convey passengers across the not and the necessity of reaching the present landing place Birkenhead and Woodside, would be removed. When growing importance of these places, and their conseque increased intercourse with Liverpool are taken m sideration, these appear to us objects of no inco importance. The proposed pier would extend ab 200 yards; and, in addition to its affording a com landing-place, Mr. Lunt considers that it might dered extensively useful to vessels in danger of bat: 21 there should be formed a noble avenue, from the on shore, or sunk. In Liverpool Mr. Lunt propre Custom-house to the Pierhead, between the Sakhee

Magistrate. Are you aware that your Master has been put to considerable inconvenience by your absenting your-glishman safe, the Frenchman giddy, the Italian cunning, part of it being made so as to be serviceable at every In keeping his word, the German is faithful, the En-Dry Docks, whence a suspension pier might be fr extending about 200 yards into the river-and the Robinson. I'm sure I'm wery sorry to illconvenience the Spaniard a cheat. any gemman, your Worship, but its better for me to go of the tide. Thus a convenient and certain passage sam atore any wery bad accident happens-I did recommend the river might be afforded at all times.-There are minor suggestions, but these we consider the most impor him a steady chap to take my place, and master sent for Lunt's project to the consideration of the Corporation and interesting; and, in conclusion, we recommend him, and offered to set him up in the Star and Garter, as well as let him drive, but he would not handle the ribbands, the inhabitants at large.

and so it all blowed over.

Magistrate.-Why did you recommend that person without knowing whether he would take the place?"

In giving advice, the German is slow, the Englishman resolute, the Frenchman precipitate, the Italian nice, the Spaniard circumspect.

In love: the German does not understand it, the Englishman loves a little here and there, the Frenchman everywhere, the Italian knows how one ought to love, the Spaniard loves truly.

In manners, the German is clownish, the Englishman barbarous, the Frenchman casy, the Italian polite, the

Robinson. I knew he had always been an uncommon good Rider, your Worship, so I thought he might like to drive; but truth is, the team master has got don't draw well together, and so I told him. Magistrate. Don't you think, Robinson, you had bet-Spaniard proud. ter go back to your place?

Robinson. Just as your Worship pleases; one of my fellow-sarvants did go back after quitting. Magistrate-Who is he?

The Race-horse Eclipse. In the first number In external appearance, the German is tall, the English-Farrier and Naturalist, an intended monthly publ man well made, the Frenchman well looking, the Italian there is an interesting memoir of this matchless demure, the Spaniard frightful. He belonged to the Duke of Cumberland, and, ( death of that prince, when his stud in Essex was the Eclipse colt, then a yearling, was purchased for five guineas. Some time after this, Captain O'K In keeping a secret: the German forgets what he has chased one half of him for 450 guineas, and, after 4 heard, the Englishman conceals what he should divulge,quent race at Winchester, he purchased the r and divulges what he should conceal, the Frenchman half for 1100 guineas; and yet, adds the writer of blabs every thing, the Italian blabs nothing, the Spaniard moir," he was the cheapest horse ever sold in E having, by his valuable properties of one kind er netted for his master the prodigious sum of thirty th pounds." The article concludes thus: "Sixty were offered by the College of Surgeons for this re able skeleton, it being intended to be placed in their seum, but were refused-a hundred being the price for the bones of this king among horses.'

Robinson-Old Nick, please your Worship, what drives is mysterious. the Bexley Van.

Magistrate. Do you know Ben Tinck? Robinson.-I do, Sir; a Dutch lad: he be now in sar-nothing, the Spaniard is indifferent to all. vice abroad.

Magistrate-D'ye think he would do for coachman? Robinson. He may, your Worship, for all I know; Some of his family did drive once, but whether it were his father or his mother, I can't rightly recollect. Magistrate-That is, you don't recollect whether it was a mail coach woman or a female coachman ? Robinson. He, he, he-he, he.

Magistrate.-Do you know Ward?

Robinson. -Which Ward, your Worship?
Magistrate.-Jack Ward.

In vanity, the German boasts little, the Englishman despises all, the Frenchman praises every thing, the Italian In eating and drinking, the German is a drunkard, the Englishman a lover of sweets, the Frenchinan delicate, the Italian moderate, the Spaniard niggardly.

In offending and doing good: the German does neither good nor bad, the Englishman does both without reason, the Italian is prompt in beneficence, but vindictive, the Spaniard indifferent in both respects.

In speaking: the German speaks little and badly, but writes well; the Frenchman speaks and writes well; the Englishman speaks badly, but writes well; the Italian speaks well, writes much, and well; the Spaniard speaks In laws: the German laws are indifferent; the Englishman has bad laws, but observes them well; the French man has good laws, but observes them badly; the Italians and Spaniards have good laws,—the former observes them negligently, the latter rigidly.

Robinson.-Oh, the Dudley boy? Yes, your Worship, little, writes little, but well. and a sharp clever lad he be.

Magistrate.-Would he do to drive?

Robinson.-I rather thinks as how he would'nt, your Worship. He did belong to the Opposition; but when that concarn failed, he comed over to the Crown, to master.

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March of Intellect.-A very few days ago, a poor chimney-sweep, begrimed with soot, and his ter white as dominoes, went into a gunsmith's shop, the New Road, and asked the price of a dozen tu for duelling pistols. Eightpence," replied the shop "But what do you want with duelling bullets?"" rejoined the little grinning black imp, "I only wa dozen or two just to practice with!" handing, as he sp shilling to the shopkeeper, who gave him the dozen b lets. He was about to give him the fourpence in charg when Blackey said, "I do not like to be burdened w halfpence in my pocket; so give me t'other half doze bullets!" This is positively a fact.-Brighton Gast

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