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    Htf^^gg ¦¦ ^"jITBaATXTRE--Our ^las ^arlattU. f ^^

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    BT CRITIC ao t > ? 0 ET nnTT- 'The winter is past , the rain is over and P frte flowers appear on the Earth ; the time of $ ^ X « of b irds is come ; and the voice of the ^ f £ heard in the land . ' Once again the merrv tor I ? , nAlay comes with all her beauty , balm , and ""i and the woods are clothing themselves in iffrf g lorious greenery , and thelea . es and grasses uuiuiu

    li oat tweeter ana greener every . « ^ will soon be one mass of golden fire , the lilac ^" blush of starry bloom , all faint with the over-°° L tne 5 S of its fragrance . The guelder-rose , the nntain ash , and the gorgeous chesnut trees , are f adin" forth in all their lavish glory ! From the ilder fliicket , and the deepening forest , the birds ! jinking out a thousand eloquent welcomes to the jLrY . lnerry May , What a budding , bright , melodious morning ! The air is soft and fresh , and full of health and life ; sweet May has dropped lier glory npOn it , and it burns with a golden glow , and what jgje treasures she oringethto lay in the lap of Earth , jjfce bridal-presents for a bride ! The weary old Earth lie has awakened from her wlnter ' ssleep , strange blind motions have been stirring about her heart of late ,

    pulses of new feeling , and yearnings of a new passion , and these have sprung upward into life in flowers , flowere are waking , buds are breaking , all among the tosk green grasses , a 3 tho' the Earth had just O pened myriads of gamesome starry eyes , as she heard the voice of the Spring . Flowers are marching over jflls , and meadows , gadding with every wind , full of w » etrv for the human heart , and brimful of beauty ,

    ? hey bloom on earth ' s green bosom now as when the world ' s grey fathers offered up then ? sacrifice on the wrasnt sod , and as fair and fragant as ever they Mossomed in fabled Eden . Thank God for flowers , " u ve who love them ! cultivate that beautiful love of fleers , that holy passion ! all ye who feel it not . Ho * pleasant a thing it were , could we renew and e } 8 ddenour existence a 3 the Earth does with every Ling which runs like oil and nectar thro' her

    revirifled veins ! , Cbhic . — Pretty fancies , and merry thoughts but , I am thinking of the thousands and millions of our toBing , sufiering , brothers , and sisters , men , women , and children , who are Bhttt up this morning of merry May , in pestilent factories , and midnight mines , for whom no flowers are blowing , no birds singing , no gnnl itrht smiling . Their lives are one heart-sickening muni of toil , from the time when the young blood of infancy dances along the veins until the limbs are shrunken with untimely age . Soon as thesun ia in

    the sky , they begin the wearying , wearing task , gull toiling on far into tho night . They cannot go forth and walk and talk , exchanging li ght-hearted ' good-morrows' with dear Mother Nature . They lave no time to go among the flowers , and drink in the sweet sunshine of their happy looks . They must toil on , perhaps writhing beneath the lash of a tyrant and chafing at his contumely and insults ; toil on , lest the kiss of death be white on the cheek of little cne s , or its warrant be written by the finger of Want ,

    on the bosom one ' s brow ; toil on , with crushed teart and stifled longings , lest the darlings of their love should waken at midnight and moan for bread , when they have none to give . Horrible ! is it not , to fed that this over-toil is crushing the best human impulses , and that the clay is rotting out , and taking the p lace of soul , day by day ? And this—Oh bitterest of mockeries—is called life 1 I know what it is , for I have felt it ; and no one can know unless they have had that experience . Outside lies alxnmdless hind of loveliness—the tender green fields

    • -the woods musical with merry singers—the laughing blue heaven , and all the glad and glorious world bright and beautiful as though it did not contain a misery or a sorrow ; and this world was meant for them , with its beauty and its plenty , its freedom and its happiness ; while HI day the iron wheels drive onward , Grinding life down from its mark , And the sonls that God 19 calling sunward , Spin on blindly in the dark .

    Poet . —1 have heard you say that many such read your paper , and'that it is the champion of the downtrodden poor ; let us , then , twine for them a garland of the never-fading flowers of Poetry as our May gift , rich and rare , and if it calls up a cheerful look in the faces of those who seldom smile—if it developes a touch of that better nature which underlies the rudest and the rockiest—if it calk forth some Bign of teauty , and lineament of love , our labour will not have been fruitless . Suppose we pluck our first flower from Teanyson ' a * May Queen .

    Tea must wake and call ma early , call mo early , mother dear ; To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad new year ; Of all the glad new year , mother , the maddest , merriest , day ; lor I ' m to be Queen o' the May , mother , I ' m to be Queen o' the May . Itare ' 3 many a black , black eye , they say , but none so bright as mine , There ' s Margaret and Mary , there ' s Kate and Caroline : Bat none so fair as little Alice in all the land they say , SoPm to be Queen 0 ' the May , mother , I ' m to be Queen 0 * the May .

    I deep so soand all night , mother , that I shall never wake , If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break ; Butlmnsi gather ifcnote of flowers , and buds , and gar-Uafegay , i or 1 m to be Q , ueen 0 ' the May , mother , I ' m t 9 be Queen o ' theifay . A 31 came np tha valley whom think ye Ishonld see , Bnt Itobin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazel-tree ? He thought of that sharp look , mother , 1 gave him yester day » Bat I ' m to le Queen 0 ' tho May , mother , I ' m to be Queen 0 the May .

    * KJ ay he ' s dying all for love , but that can . never be : fneysayhia heart ia breaking , mother—what is that to me ? ^ fire ' s many a bolder lad * U woo me any summer day , Am rm to be Qaeea 0 ' the May , mother , I ' m to be Queen 0 the May . little Effie shall go with me to-morrow on the green , and you ' ll be there , too , mother , to see mo made the Qaeen ; \ * J } shepherd lads on every side ' 11 come from far away , Ana lmto he Queen 0 ' the May , mother , Tm to be Queen e the May .

    lie night winds come and go , mother , upon the meadow grass , A&d the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they « Pass ; *«» will not he a drop of rain the whole of the live-lon <» dny . And I ' m to be Queen 0 ' the May , mother , Vm to be Queen 0 " the May . $ s you must wake and call me early , call me early , mother " few , To-morrow ' 11 be the happiesfc ~ time of all the glad new r ycw wall the glad new year , mother , the maddest , merriest , „ day , * ° iTm to be Queen 0 ' the May , mother , I ' m to be Queen 0 tbe Mav .

    ifl f —^ ^ a 5 ntv arie * tne mn 8 e of Tennyson : «« subtilizing grace ! what a witchery there is in £ - ttelod y ! It steals upon you like a breath of the of onrv * th ! Hi 3 " the most lyrical genius of any his ft ^ P 06 * 3 5 kis words siD 2 ° f themselves , and mnsfe I - tuW ) Ie int 0 son S naturally as rich de * fr , irom a sk ylark , perfume from a rose , and * cr ! 3 nf a BMnmer ™ S ' His poetry is a very b £ an l OMvoa drou 3 haauty--purifyn ! g and ennobling WwJa *? A voridn g men should he made ac-K-uI , ll" ! tLat thev ma T S oeaut J «*> && * Wtawi ence into thek m ? lives - MvonIy ^ * £ at Ttn"yson « . that he lacks the fire of pas-^ &UlS ^ ° What he haS givea ° ' ^? o ? v most . aweefc E 0 n S > tyonewho ought , by 1 ^ wJ T > t 0 place himseIf side b ? sia ° > £ ,.. * - } 50 n . I know Tin nno en -n . nl ! ijc . j ± -

    fli ^ - ? e Peoplein EngiandTBeran Sww'Tft - J ? **»»««* ^ fc KteSJir *^' & § * WdTl , !? ° , es he D 0 t ascend the sphere of Vorld wfc ° ? £ T P ty afl ddark ? ^ r |^^ Snf Ceed ° fhim ^ S ^ randS ° laCkfaith " iimso ] f aad his Jf ^ gS ikoT CVCryet acc ^ P « shed , without - ** -ck to tho heart of tho word-jug-

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    glery and caterwauling of our poetasters , and determines to stick by honest Saxon prose . But here are the verses . °% ; rL orld g 0 , UP « and the W 01 > ld goes down , ¦ And the sunshmo follows the rain , And yesterday ' s sneer , and yesterday ' s frown , Can never come back again , ,. Sweet wife ! ao , never come back anain . For , woman is warm , tho' man be cold , And the night shall hallow the day , And the heart that at even was weary and old , Shall rise ia the morning , gay , . Sweet wife ! To its work in tho morning , gay ,

    Ckitic . —Good . The true love-poet is the married man ; he has looked on the mystery of life from many sides , and is to be trusted . The married men have , left this love-poetry-making to the unmarried ones too long . Stick it in our Grarland . Poet . —Hero is another—just a blossom , it has never been in print . I am not at liberty to mention who gave it me , but the future will tell you his name : — 0 , the merry , merry lark wsb xip and singing , And tho hare was out , and feeding on the lea , And the merry , merry bells below were ringing , As my child ' s laugh rang thro' me 1 Row , the hare is snared and dead beside the snowyard , And the lark beside the dreary winter sea , And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard , Waiteth there until tho bells bring me .

    Is it not sweet ? What a rich minor music there is in it , and how much more meaning it sobs forth suggestively , than it sets out to tell . Cbitic— I had a volume placed in my hands the other day , entitled ' Poems * b y George Meredith ; rather an ominous title in these days , when everybody writes and publishes Poems ; ' but , upon dipping into it , I found it to contain some genuine poetry ; and if the author be young , -we may safely predict remarkable things of him . This book is full of promise , and performance too ; there are some songs in it as rich and melodioua as any of Herrick ' s , and far more imaginative ; I scarce know where to choose , but , surel y , this is worthy of our Garland : —

    S 05 G . I cannot lose theo for a day , But like a bird with restless wing , My heart will find thee far away , And on thy bosom fall and sing , My nest is here , my rest is here , — And in the lull of wind and rain , fresh voices make a sweet refrain , " His rest is there , his nest is there . " With thee the wind and sky are fair , But parted , both are strange and dark ; And treacherous the quiet air That holds me singing like a lark , O shield my love , Btrong arm above ! Till in the hush of wind and rain , Fresh voices make a rich refrain ,

    " The arm above , will shield thy love I " "What was that you were hiding away ? Soh ! a song of your own—pretty and applicable . Come , we mua * give that : —

    SOXG . Ah ! 'tis like a tale of olden Time , long , long ago ; When the world was in its golden Prime , and Love was lord below S Every vein of Earth was dancing "Withthe Spring ' s new wine ! 'Twasfae >^ mam ' , ime of flowers When I met you , love of mine . Ah ! some spirit sure was straying Out of heaven that day , "When I meet you , Sweet ! a-maying , In the merry , merry May .

    Little heart ! it sbyly opened Its red leaves' love-lore , Like a rose that must be ripen'd To the dainty , dainty core . But its beauties bravely brighten , And it grows so dear—Tho' a many Winters whiten , We go Maying all the year . And my proud heart will be praying Blessings on that day—When I met you , Sweet ! a-maying , In the merry , merry May . Poet . —There is a beautiful song of Hood ' s , richly descriptive of a morning like this ; I think ! have it in a comer of memory , and can quote it without the book : —

    0 Lady , leave thy silken thread And flowery tapestry : There ' s living roses on the bu 3 h , And blossoms on the tree ; Stoop where thou wilt , thy careless hand Some random bad will meet ; Thou canst not tread but thou wilt find The daisy at thy feet . 'Tis like the birthday of the world , When earth was born in bloom ; The light is made of many dyes , The air is all perfume ! There ' s crimson buds , and white , and blue—The very rainbow showers Have turned to blossoms where they fell , And sown the earth with flowers .

    There ' s fairy tulips in the east , The garden of the sun ! The very streams reflect the hues And blossom as they run : While Mora opes like a crimson rose , Still wet with pearly showers , Then , Lady leave tho silken thread Thou twinest into flowers . Cbitic—Steeped to the very lips in the dews and spirit of Poetry ! The world does not yet understand what a poet it lost when Hood died broken-hearted . It scarcel y listened to him at all as a singer , until he hurled at it that terrible 'Song of the Shirt , ' and

    mirrored for it that tragedy of the 'Bridge of Sighs j * yet had he written true poetry before , and proved himself rarely and richly endowed with the faculty divine . He himself eclipsed his own poetic genius by the splendour of his wit and humour . And then the evildayscameon him , and the dark circumstances gathered around him , and he went down to his rest like a vessel laden with precious treasure , and we BhaU never know what a priceless wealth of song was hushed with him in death . He suggested that his epitaph should be , 'Here lies the man who made more puns , and spat more blood , than any other that ever lived ; J but I should rather it be , 'Here lies a man who , but for untoward circumstances , miato W *

    been one of the greatest poets of this century . ' But to return . If I remember rightly , Lowell , the American , paet , has an exquisite description of this time of the year . ? w ^ * ^ le ast it is of June . Here itisfrom the « Vmon of Sir Launfal , * Is i 8 also a fine contrast between the niggardliness of our competitive world and the silent magnanimity with which Nature —land mother—gives us her wealth of blessings . Earth gets its price for what earth gives us , The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in , The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us , a *«? f ^! e ? eu for tte § raves * e he in . At the devil ' s booth are all things sold Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold , For a cap and bells our lives we pay . iiuowes

    we earn with a whole soul ' s tasking-• m- Bcaven "lone that is given away . 'Tis only God may be had for asking There is no price set en the lavish summer And June : naj bs had by the poorest comer . A what ! s so «» « s a day in June ? I hen , if ever , come perfect days-Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune wK over ? ? ffcly her warm ear lays . Whether we look , or whether we listen , T& ?! i f £ Umur > or see ifc SlBten ™ fl -Vr h of , hf may wel 1 be seen , Thrilling back over the hills and vallies , The buttercup catches the

    sun in its chalice And there ' s never a leaf or a blade too mean To » e some happy creature ' s palace ! The little bird sits at his door in the sun Atilt , like a blossom among the leaves ' And lets his illumined being o ' erruu ' "Witb . the deluge of summer it receives Joy comes , grief goes—we know not how—Everything is happy now ! Everything is upward striving 'Tis as easy now for the heart to ° be true As for grass to be green , or skies to bo blue'Tis the natural way of livin g .

    There is much more of tho same kind in this poem . I have only taken a few of the lines , and are they not perfectly beautiful f "What a happy dance there is in the music , a earless , joyous litt as of that bird , ' Atilt like a blossom among the leaves / and how vividly they paint the ri pening influence of this opening of the year . I feel with Byron , fat more religious in Buashiny weather ; and who has not felt this purif y ing and exalting influence of blue skies , fragrant airs , young flowers , happy birds , .... . M ^ Toeias by George Meredith . John W . l ' artcr , Strand , Lonicn *

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    spreading leaves , and shining , silken grasses , when the sprmg-tide of tender greenery , and the mT mer ' s flush of glory , come flooding over he 3 d once more ? To stand in this glorious DaWp W ™ of humanity , with its ceiling o § f azief tatdT walls of crystal , with a rich flowery velvet carDet on its floor , it seems most natural to be good and as I have heard it said , that standing beneath the ma * nificient dome of St . Peter ' s in Rome , one is scarcef ' of its size and be

    aware grandeur , cause the soul dilates ^ and fills the place , and becomes like it eo is it with nature , and the freed soul seems as if it could fill immensity , and clasp the world and all humanity in its arms , and give them vitality in the warmth and largeness of its love . At such a time methinks the commonest natures , crushed and de ' graded as we are , worn down by suffering and blighted by the dry-rot of slavery , the most earthy feel that their lives do not all turn in darkness but that they also have their angel-side , and the asniri

    tion tor nobler growtu will bo stirring at the heart and tears will flush into the eyes , and they feel they might have been something better , and lived a higher existence , if the world had done justice by them ' Ckmic—True . But the laws of society ' are antagonistic to the laws of nature—the best resolves are crushed by them—the noblest aspirations are thwarted by them—the bravest hearts are broken bv them ; either they must be changed , or there is no general progression for humanity , and it will nee ( j the united energies of all the best and bravest men to work this change . Freedom is what we need we are cramped and stifled—they have turned the world into a prison , as suffocating as the black hole of Calcutta ! Room for growth and development ! The cry of the people is for Liberty and Light . '

    Poet . —Lowell is likewise a true worker for the people ' s enfranchisement ; among the noble band whose trumpet-strains of freedom are encircling the walls of tyranny till they shall fall flat , like those of Jericho before the Israelitish warriors of old his voice rings out , clear and melodious . Here is his noble idea of true Freedom : —

    STANZAS ON FREEDOM . Men ! whose boast it ib that ye Come of fathers brave and free , If there breathe-on earth a slave , Are ye truly free and brave ? If ye do not feel the chain , When it works a brother ' s pain , Are yo not base slaves indeed , — Slaves unworthy to be freed ? Women ! who shall one day bear Sons to breathe New England air , If ye hear , without a blush , Deeds to make tberouaad blood rush Like red lava through your veins , For your sisters now in chains , -. Answer ! are ye fit to be Mothers of the brave and free «

    Is true Freedom but to break Fetters for our own dear sake , And , with leathern hearts , forgafc That we owe mankind a debt ? No ! true freedom is to share All the chains our brothers wear , And , with heart and hand , to bo Earnest to make others free ! They are slaves who fear to speak For the fallen and the weak ; They are slaves who will not choose Hatred , scofling , and abuse , Rather than in silence shrink From the truth they needs must think j They are slaves who dare not be In the right with two or three .

    Cbitic —A true Eong by a true singer—one of the very few political songs , so called , that are really iyncal , and , as for the matter , America would do well to lay it to heart . There seems to be a great mistake abroad , especially among the poets of the people , about politics . Party politics do not constitute poetry , although poetry may be political , and the genuine poet ' s alchemy will transmute almost any subjectmto the goldof poetry , as the bee gathers honey irom the wild prickly gorseonthe desolate moors , lne aspiration for freedom is an eternal theme , and few have sung it bettor than the German noet . Fraili .

    grath . I do not know a finer gong in the world of poetry than his glorious'Freedom and Right . ' I nave it not at hand , or we would bind it up in our garland ' but here is oneb y the same poet , which alarmed the tyrant of Prussia with , his half million armed guards around him , It is a yearning for the golden spring of Freedom to dawn on his country when the seed of the martyrs' Wood shall blossom and bear frmt , and it shall become a free nation , whose sons aie a brotherhood . England , too , awaits the bursting of that spring , which shall make the poor mans heart to leap for gladness , and the desert of nis life to WoBSom as the rose . On manhood ' s tree , springs crowding flower on flower , By an eternal law they wave thereon : As here one withereth in its final hour

    , Thera springs another full and glorious one ! An ever coming and a ceaseless going , And never for an hour a sluggish stand ' . We see them burst , then earthward see them blowing , And every bloasom is a Folk—a Land ! We who yet wander with young feet this woe-land , Already have seen many crushed and dyine . — The Tartar Vulture tore the Ro » o of Poland Before our eyes , and grimly left it lying . Through Spain ' s green foliage , Bternly on her way History storms onward . -Shall she fall , then , thus ? Shall not another realm ' s long dank docav

    -Be blown and scattered o ' er the Btaphorus ! Yet , near to these , which the World ' s spirit-motion Shakes from tho bough with its resistless might . Others we see full of young life ' s commotion-Clear eyed and joyous , pressing towards the light Ah ! what a budding—what a rich unfolding j What thronging gems in young wood and in old ! How many buds have burst for our beholding—How many are ripe for bursting , full and bold ! And Germany ' s rioh bud , too , God be praised , Stirs the stem

    on !—It seems to bursting nigh , Fresh 83 when Herrmann on Us beauty gazed—Fresh as when Luther from the Wartburgh high An anoient growth , with life still proudly teeming Still yearning toward the genial Bunbeams ever Still ever spring—still aye of Freedom dreaming--G ! shall tbe bud become a blossom never ? Thou , at whose touch the flowers unfold their glory 0 , breath of Spring , on us , too , warmly blow . ' Thou who the germs of nations opest in story , 0 ! breath of Freedom , on this pour thy glow ! Thy etilleBt , deepest sanctuary render . 0 ! kiss it into fragrant splendour free ! Lord God in Heaven ! what a Flower of Wonder This Germany of ours shall one day be !

    PoEi . —The author of that is worthy of his exile Blessings on him . B y the bye , have you read the last words . of 'Alton Locke '—they are a brave utterance for an English clergyman . What a dogged revolutionary march there is in their music . It seems to me like the measured tramp of a multitude , who come to demand ' Freedom or Death . ' with SOt teeth flashing eyes , and defiant hearts 1 ' Weep , weep , weep , and weep , For pauper , dolt , and slave ; Hark ! from wasted moor and fen , Feverous alley , workhouse den , Swells the wail of Engli shmen , " Work ! or the grave !" Down , down , down , and down .

    With idler , knave , and tyrant ; Why for sluggards stint and moil ? He that will not live by toil Has no right on English soil ; God ' s word ' s our warrant ! Up , up , up , and up , Pace your game and play it J The night is past—behold the sun !—The cup is full—tho web is spun—« The judge is set , the doom begun ; Who shall stay it ? I am glad to hear that a People ' s Edition of * Alton Locke' is about to be published ; it is a work the people ought to get at . And now I think we may tie up our ' Garland . ' '

    Critic . —Not yet ; I have here the ' Poems of Louis Napoleon , ' * an excellent joke , i'faith , and how seriously thay were advertised ! This is one of the best shafts of satire that have been hurled at that scamp-Jupiter—almost worthy tho Prince of Parodists , Bon G-aultier , aud the illustrations are admirable . On the frontispiece we have Louis the Blase as Orpheus , with his lyre ( N . B . He plays the War to perfection ) , the nations are represented as listeners but the Lion of England turns its tail towards him ! The copyright of the work is secured in both countries under recent . acts . The book may be purchased of all Jrench booksellers who have a weakness for Cayenne . It is dedicated to 'My Uncle , ' 'In whose boots I fain would tread ; you were poetic yourself you read Ossian ( in tho original Gaelic ) , and saw Bo ^^ £ tiSt . NailoleOD ' I 1 IustraUd b ' *™> D » via

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    forty centuries looking down from the Pyramids May Ossian aud the forty centuries have iSJd me ! ' Lest people should remark it as nnaccoun ? 5 that not a few of the lyrics appear to S ? nr ? their author , it is suggested that he is an unaceoff able person . Many readers mi ght not have expected such a style of eftusion from him ; but did they oxomt thecowp d ' etat , ov tho Orleans confiscation ? Here we have the Idees Napoleouienne s , from which wo must pluck one or two : — To gain your point in view—to wade

    Through dirt , and slime , and blood—To stoop to pick up what you want Through any depth of mud , But always in tho fire to thrust Some helpless cat ' s-paw , when Your chesnuts burn—c'esi use Idee Napoleonienne . To bribe the base , to crush the good , And bring them to their knees—To stick at nothing , or to stick At what or whom they please—To stoop , to lie , to brag , to swear , . Foreswear , and swear again—To rise—An ! voila des Idees

    Napoleohiesme , What think yo < of that , for an exposition of tho Napoleonic Ideas ? Everybody should h ave this little book , that figure of the eagle ( a la Flexmore ' s owl at the Princess ' s ) , with the cocked hat aud tho wreath of sausages , is worth the price of it ! The eagle , after Foe ' s Raven , ' is a gem ; aud so is the ' Model Poetw Decree , ' -with many others , all excellent things . Burlesque is the proper style for bucIi a subject , and the author revels and rollics in it gloriously ! We-must have one more extract aud bind up the G-arknd , ' let it be from 'My Armada , ' not Mr . Macaulay ' s , but Louis Napoleon ' s . Should there be any resemblance traced , it may be accounted for by the fact of the noble author ' s long residence here , and his predilection for imitating : —

    'Twill be about—on second thoughts , I will not name the day—When Glorious France shall spring to arms at signal of her No law , no warning , will she give to Albion's blustering race , The bill she holds for vengeance due requires no days of grace , * ' The channel ' s crossed , the Thames is passed , no need of bomb or ball ,

    The holy bayonets of Franco are mustering at Blackwall . vVith its proud Eagles high in air the conquering army comes , Trafalgar Square is echoing now to my Elysian drums . Around the Nelson column let us halt a little space , For there behoves us to strike out a reoord of disgrace . Ho . ! strike the bronzes down to earth . I—down history to tho shades , Ho ' . gunners fire your battering balls ! Ho ! miners , ply your spades ! 'Twas evening when the Nelson bronze upon the pavement

    rolled—Ere morning every Frenchman ' s sac was stuffed with English gold . s Night sank upon the town of Lud ( whoever he mi ght be)—Such night old London never Baw , nor e ' er again shall see From Camberwell to Oamden Town " , from Kew to Ratcliffe Way , That night was one of fight and fright more dread than battle day , For swift to east , and swift to Treat , the ghastly war-flame spread—High o ' er the Serpentine it glared , o ' er the now river head And made its deadly presence known in each surrounding wXVCQ f For in a word , the conquering French had sat the town on nre .

    The Banker left his gold untouched in Braham ' s fireproof caves , The savings bank ( no new event ) its hoard no longer saves , Right fierce the flame 3 swept Lincoln ' s Ion , and did the Lawyers brown , And ere the day , three hundred wigs were burned , with each a gown . And still at every compass-point up rose the furious fires , And like red-liot extinguishers appeared the Churcuea ' s spires ; O ' er all the battoriea of the Tower the flames did climb and peer , And all the thousand masts of Thames woro blazing far and near . b

    Then from the furthest wards was heard the rush of hurrying feet , And a wild stream of fugitives dashed down each roaring street , And broader still booame the blaze , and louder still the din , As timbers crashed , and rafters smashed , and roofs came plunging in ; Ia vain , like mad artillery , the Assurance engines wentlne Phoenix hose was bootless now , the County and tho lx 6 nt / f

    And on and on , those roaring flames , untired Ihey bounded still ) Oa hiii orasgy heisht they glowed ' Holborn ' Till twelve fair counties saw St . Pauls one blaze of lurid light , Till flames enwrapped thy new Exchange , and breezas olew its Tita ! Sill England saw her glory sink in London ' s funeral pile , And owned Invasion was no Sham-and so did Tom Carlyle ! Who is kneeling blindfold , on three books ( I suppose his 'French Revolution , ' ) about to receive the fire of a Platoon of * French Infantry .

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    THE COUNTESS OF RUDOLSTADT . [ Sequel to " Consuelo . " ] Bi Ghorok Band . However , Consuelo soon recovered , and in the evening of the 13 th day of her captivity , Bho was caused to reappear upon tho stage . Burin ? the first part of the performance a garland of flowers fell at Consuelo ' s feet , and the smile audience , thinking it oarae from the king , greeted the Binger with thunders of applause . The enraged despot ordered Poolnitz , the chamberlain , to oarry her back to prison , and , if he could not prevail upon her to confess , not to let him hear of her for a year . She was , accordingly , again locked up in tho fortress of Spandau . The Opera season was at au end , and her instrument had been taken from her .

    Deprived of this consolation , poor Consuelo aroused Herself with all her courage to continuo hor song , and the composition of musio during the evening . She sucoeeded and was not long in perceiving that her voioo , and tho exquisite judgment of her ear , greatly improved in their dry and diffioult exeroiso . The foar of falling into error rendered her much more careful , and she listened with re . doubled attention , thus involving a labour of memory and excessive observation . Her manner of singing becamo less conventional , more earnest , more perfect . While her compositions took a more simple character , and rIip . .

    posed in her prison airs of an extraordinary beauty , and of a sublime sadness , she none the less felt tlie injury to her health and peace of mind which the loss of her in strun ent causod . Experiencing the necessity of incessant ocoupation , and being unable to rest from the stormy and excitme labour of composition and execution in the more tranouil labour of reading and study , she felt fever creeping into all her veins-grief taking possession of all her thoughts . Her aotive charaoter-joyous , and full of affeotion a nd trust—was not made for isolation and the absence of sympathy . She would , perhaps , have sunk under a few weeks of this cruel regime , had not Providence sent her a friend where certainly she least expected to find one . '

    1 EB GAOLER S SON . Below the cell occupied by our recluse , was a great smoky room , the heavy and dusty ceiling of whioh never received any other light than that of the firo kindled in a vast chimney . place , always filled with iron kettles hissing T » R i ! « - r / tone » onclosed du » "g ^ e whelc day the Schwartz family and their skilful culinary opera , tions . While the wife mathematically combined the greatest possible number of dinners with tbe fewest imaginable provisions and ingredients , the husband , seated before a table black with ink and oil , by the light of a lamp always burning in that fflnomv RannHin ™ nwt ; Of ; nniu . „„ J « i « a , 3 uunuiig ,,, im gloomy sanctuaryartistically

    , composed the most formidable bills filled with tho most fabu-** ll ! l The ™» g » dinners were for tho goodly nuraper of prisoners whom the officious keeper had snoceeded Z l \ T t T \^ , ° f hmim ' bills were ? o Mi £ ^ if ? iu ^ keV 8 ?? reMions ' * ith 0 « t being always emitted to the inspection of those who had consumed this B ' UmpMoys dietary . While ?*• =- . ,. couple gave themselves « r » r . wi . ii T " . speculative more peaceable pesonSesflmPT } k k tlie " \ work > l * ° piece / lived therein s&co SIWbaneath tuechimney and profitsof theopeSSZ'SS'fw ^ 40 tho sweets was a large lean oaVomStv 3 m 8 foi > ethG «» . The first was consumed in l&ing * Ja £ Lnd dL - % eX | St , eDCe Tho second was a young man m- m ? i , g ln the cinde 1 ' 3 ' ugly of his kind , whose sUent Z \ Z chUd » stU 1 ffiore divided between tbereadS of L SWtUw lifo ™ s fVinn W , a «« iu ... i _ . aUIU S . Oi ail Oldbnftlr mn ,. a «« anrm ui

    .-v . u ma umer bous and ( ifn > n . i , ~ v » u > v »»; sembled the beautitnS oSSnSSnal revc ™ a * hion re tations of a reflecting boins Thi Mf i th 5 . than the niedi " the child with tho name Jf Beelzebub f ° ? bapti 5 ed by less , to that which tho oWM rZ b ln ? Qnfrast , doubt Monsieur and vX ^ jSS ^ HS T P ™ tbe sweet and pious name 0 ™ ttlieb * m ° thCr "" offifbSS ^ aS ^^ SJftgjKo . had , up to the age tant liturgy . But for ¦ thiE Is ? £ udles in the Prole * that time , he had lived inert b / T « had elapSed since ordered growth having apparently ? lP ^' e ' ' , , pid and di 3 ' powers . His beardless aKffT d ? i ^ ed al hi - ? ntal high and open forehead didnnfi , J ce twminating in a 6 0 ne day , Gottlieb SU dflvawnl ? i f reSe - blB a S ° ^ P 9 aVl oxDreued his desire to learn aKL ? ° - mth ?> and which his parents readily SnienSi ' f lnn ? oenfc wisb to allowed to pass a m ^ K a 22 ' i ^ o ^ gly he tos which he returned to his ohfmncv a * ? * ¦ ™™ W . a » ei !!!? i ! Lf ^^ * Theophilus-JMena of God ,

    Untitled Article

    a shoe , which was never . finished , for it took a new shape every day , but never , by any means , the right ene , Consuelo having taken a loose brick fiom the wall of her cell , discovered a cavity in which were some pencils and paper , Here she secreted her money , in order to save it from the rapacity of Schwartz , and determined to use tha pencils and paper , to write down the events of her prison , Wo . Wo translate her journal from the Italian . Tho portions detailing circumstances with which the reader is already acquainted , are here suppressed : — „ . COXSUKLO ' f . JOURNAL reflet - I T slla 11 write brie % » without stopping for long Jf ,, " , ; { fcol no resentment towards my enemies . I I have loved ° f tll 0 Se whom I love « and of Lim whom

    reniaineri tiJ ! raornin S a robin came into my room , and last fifteen l \ Ti \ than , ^ uarter of an ll 0 ur - Foi < tha honour andtodi u \ ° b ^ inviting him to do me this my invitation fe lSf - at len " tb decided on scce P S my wii . dow an d whs i an old ivy bush whidl reftche 3 their door siting . my , % ™ ] ers s P ' because it shades bird looked at 2 ! fn , eet beneath . The pretty little trustful air . Attraptii / T ^ witb a c" » ous and misup in the form of wo m , ^ Lth ° i - . " ea ( 1 ffhich l hild rolIed fingers to tempt him by £ « * tWiEted ab 0 Ut in my came lightly , and as if btojl W ? ° ? f livin S * " *• the bars of my prison but " . i ™ gust , of wind - ciose t 0 ception , he flew away ' with n Sir . " f ho pci \ eivcd tho de * utterance to a low trill , resembl „„ llpr ? a - cb and 2 aT < 1 r ^ t X ^ B ^ S ^ ^ Fiwar&t&srJaSiS gag j . of mo , and command what m 5 S 7 S £

    i « ; 13 -M V ' s this friend l this "" looked-fov brother « tt WKflln ^ T- t 1 found , note upon 5 ' wmioJ : Bill this morning when I opened it , to say pood day to the fflSiS r / ov ^ me 11 . ^^ ^ ^^ ^^ Rtrl ^ r ~^ Another . note tbis mo "» ng ! This is becoming coS s ' JJeJaIne B £ WP * }' 00 ked ' - * ¦"""' I J ^ e same ™ 7 « P . Pe »; . My Ludor is no hidalgo , but he is tendistrustS ; v aStl ° ' . „ ' P f ar 8 ister ! elecfc BOul of God ! T ° * f ™ ' You will not speak to me . Have you nothing to command me ? Is there no way in which I canservi WhPn « o y ? u 13 yourSl Command your brother then . ' which t Cl *? l myste ««« 9 « otes , and tbis devotion of wnicn 1 know not how to avail myself ? ,.-, " " ?• While walking OO thn munnn . vt . fn . dftv . T afi

    w th mo Vail Th Pm ! , u Gottlieb t 0 mniSm , and convert tbSfrWrfM f ? d-brea 8 t . he told me , is an angel , and . intheXS i ^ is an evil spirit . There is poetry Germi K rdered mind of this Poor W ! There is in thesl *> iJK 5 a ? 3 & ? a most diaordered ' lusury KrST ^ i \ r tliOtV ° Ttio » of the building , at likevZiif it 8 tbe apail tment of a lady , a prisoner K vo ! 5 v Her , J ? ° ^ stery , but the robin will de ir Jfn ' fcn 5 ° Tk blnU For tho A thia is what you inform you / ° POOr G 0 ttlieb ' and wbat be could not bffl ^ tVootfflJb ! ™" ^ aUth ° ° th ° mySteri 0 US Te 8 tLdav mLeLill p i , -T 6 dftyB > and ^ l * enfcoufi

    • ' wSufT * . ? ^ * ce of my illness , nade \ L 2 ir th Gottlieb ' «* w appear on tho espial ferooio \ i ? MH « o ^" e presence twriSed me . It was tha spA z ^ is ^' whora we met in M JvS ^ W' I - b ? ° calls himself , Mr . Kanteuii ; hTShiTnf «^ fi d i WBting presence upon me ; but LiLToSS m ° i and whcn be departed he pro-•? I f mSS °° , , ° tbis ladyin ^ e evening . Ar , * * S'W , t ° J woman Ci"ne to my cell , and con-S onTil ? . P •!*> " ? of the towor . Here she bade m « t u ^ immedla . tely disappeared . I had not waited long , when , unon turnin ? roundafi

    tne wnnfl ot lootrtops , I found myself face to face with Mayer . Ho told mo prisoner number two had refused ta see me . He then began to talk to me in a familiar manner , ewlefttt retUmt 0 Uly Own room ' 8 orry tbat 1 had " One moment ! one moment ! ' said Mayer : « your key is m my pocket , and you cannot get back \ rithout me Allow me , my beautiful child , to say two words : — As he thus spoke , the base recruiter drew near me , and attempted with an air at once impudent and awkward , to bar the passage and get possession of my bands . Iran towards the battlements of the tower , determined to throw myself into the moat , rather than be polluted by the leasfc of his caressos . But at this moment , a singular spectada Net my eyes , and I hastened to draw the attention of tha adjutant to this object , that I might turn it from mysefio It was my salvation , but alas , it all but cost tho life of S being perhaps worthier than I !

    • '' Upon tho elevated rampart which bordered the otheu side of the moat facing the esplanade , a figure which lookej gigantic , was running , or rather flying , upon the parapet , with a rapidity and skill partaking of the marvellous . Atrived at the extremity of this rampart , flanked by a towec at each end , the phantom sprung upon the roof of the tower , which is level with the balustrade , aud climbing the pinnacle with the lightness of a oat . appeared to be lost iu air . What the deuce is that ? ' cried the adjutant , forgetting his gallantry in his cares as a gaoler . Some prisoner is making his eseapo , the fiend take me ! And the sentinel is a sloop , by heaven J Sentinel ! he cried , in the voice of a Stentor , 'look to yourself ! Awake ' . awake !'

    And running towards a battlement where an alarm-bell was Buspended , ho get it going with a vigour worthy of so remarkable a professor of infernal musio . I never hear J anything more mournful than this tocsin , breaking in upon the silence of night with its sharp and grating sound . It was a savage cry of violence and brutality disturbing tha hJirmony of tho few murmurs of the winds and waves . In a moment , all was alert in the prison . I heard the clash of muskets m the hands of the sentinels who ran to the battery , and took aim , at hazard , at the first object which pra Dented itself . Tho esplanade was illuminated by a red lighfi which , dimmed the beautiful azure reflection of the moon . It was M . Schwartz lighting a beacon . Signals answered

    one another from rampart to rampart , and the echoes caught them up in weak and plaintive tones . The alarms of cannon soon mingled its terrible and solemn toao in thia habehcal symphony , Heavy footstepa resounded upon tha flag-stones . I could see nothing , but I heard all these noises , and my heart sunk with terror . Mayer had hastily Q uitted me , but I never thought of rejoicing at this delivery ; I reproached myself bitterly for having betrayed , without knowing what I was about , the escape of some unfortunate prisoner . I waited , frozen with terror , the endof the adventure , trembling at every gun-shot that sounded at intervals , and anxiously listening for the cries of the wounded fugitive whioh should announce to me his disastrous fate .

    AU this lasted more than an hour , . and , thanks to tieaven ! tho fugitive was neither seen nor overtaken . To assure myself on this point , I joined the Schwartzes upon tue esplanade . They were themselves bo distressed and agitated , that they never thought of being surprised to Z J ? l ^ ffl y cel 1 in the mi ddle of the night . It may be that they had agreed witb Mayer to let me out on that particular occasion , Schwartz , after having run up and down like a madman , and assured himself that none of tha . captives committed to his charge were missing , began ta grow somewhat tranquil ; but his wife and he were struefc * , aMa a consternation as though the salvation of a man s life was in their eyeg a public and private calamity ,

    an enormous outrage against divine justice . The rest of the turnkeys , and the soldiers , who were coming and going m a state of great alarm , exohanged words with them expressive of the same despair , the same terror . In their eyes , an attempt at escape was apparently the blackest of all crimes . Oh , good God ! how frightful did it appear to me , to see these mercenary men devoted to the babarousi employment of depriving their fellow-heings of the sacred right of liberty ! But suddenly it seemed as if supreme equity had resolved to inflict an exemplary punishment on my two guardians . Madame Sehwarfcz , having entered erf , arl ; menfi for a moment , hastily returned with loud

    « tr , ' G . J ; lieb ! Gottlieb ! ' said she , in a stifled voice ; cert ? I h n ' Ot £ re ' ° DOt kUI my S ° n ! K iS he 5 U iS " In the midst of the agitation of the two Sehwarties , I understood from thciv broken words , that Gottlieb wa » not to bo found either in his bed , or in any other corner o £ their dwelling , and that probably he had returned , unperceived by them , to his ancient habit of walking upon tha roofs in his sleep . Gottlieb was a somnambulist ! "I assisted Sohwartz to search the ditch , in the fear that Gottlieb had fallen into it ; but when I returned to my cell , I found him slumbering peacefully in my nvm chair . - ' - * ¦ 3 i » aulVionsoftfend ?^ »« could mm the ffl ' me" ha W £ ? 7 > .. ^ P * r ^ . *» £ * ^ far in tbe sky " ! & % & ! £ & * g -jS 2 as * ™ £ Z ^ J ^ iR

    couV ^ owS' taU 2 ht ^ *™ an gels and diS < tJSft 3 = £ S » s . " m -God , fir 3 t of all , and then _ the sublime shoe .

    „ , XhV- 8 tbe D £ T e of tbis sublime shoemeker V flfle & « L ™ , W na T ! but y ° u mvst nofc tel 1 ft . you know & T h mo tber does not know it . She does not Ann n i , J 5 *™ ^ ° books in the hole in the chimney . One a book of sermons , which I pretend to read when aha is looking at mo , and another , which I have devoured for SriSlW W f whioh is » y Evenly bread , raJ oiSoJoul ? ' Oftrutb ' ^^ taesalvatiort "' And who wrote this book V " 'He , tho shoemaker of Golitz , Jacques Bcehmer " " Here we were interrupted by the arrival of Madam * Schwartz , whom I prevented with difficulty from mw toting herself ^ Pon herBonto Gmbrace-hir |^ S P ffiln adores her offspring . May her sinsbe forSveifiK ^ AWiit wviiu iuuuub

    . . wvuro «» vo vv > mm to l'Gtlirn-+ i \ t > : a j " whore , thoy assured me this inornln ^ ; L Sd fl ir ^ » sleep peacefully . He was conscio&of nothfnV iltmilS : ta strango malady and alarm of ffi n&h ? W ^^ subject ofconvorsation . througUout : spf 5 ^ er ^ "~* * % tinvfa . y '" . , " .- ¦ . . '• •> :, ^ C -C : ' : ir : \^ J ' i ' 5

    Htf^^Gg ¦¦ ^"Jitbaatxtre--Our ^Las ^Arlattu. F ^^

    Htf ^^ gg ¦¦ ^" jITBaATXTRE--Our ^ las ^ arlattU . f ^^

    Untitled Article

    Q i « 5 g THE STAR OF FREEDOM

• Citation
  • Northern Star (1837-1852), May 8, 1852, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1677/page/3/