Tellier, who turned his horse's head about, I heard for the last time his-"Aie, donc, Rosbif chuck!"-mounted my new vehicle, and without further accident arrived at the Place Louis Quinze, at a quarter past seven, consoling myself for the loss of my dinner-party, with a thousand stern resolutions never again to take—a a ride in a cuckoo.

Who had accompanied the Russians to their country.ad pude
I LOOK through the mist, and I see thee not-m vizonizua
Are thy home and thy love so soon forgot?

roof 13 15 Sadly closes the weary day,
And still thy bark is far away!

"

The tent is ready, the mats are spread,creen toi
The saranna *is pluck'd for thee,

Alas! what fate has thy baidare + led
So far from thy home and me?

Has my

bower no longer charms for thee?-
Where the 1 purple jessamines twine
Round the stately, spreading, cedar tree,
And rest in its arms so tenderly,

As I have reposed in thine.

"

with a damn) In vain have I found the $sea-parrot's nest,

aide samour And robb'd of its plumes her glittering breast, Lo

Thy mantle with varied hues to adorn,-
Thou hast left me watchful and forlorn!

te hoffer hoe b Dost thou roam amid the eagle flocks
Whose eirie is in the highest rocks?

Dost thou seek the fox in his lurking-place, Or hold the beaver in weary chase? Dost thou search beneath the foaming tide to urosterse Wherein the precious [] red pearls hide? Return!-the evening mist is chill, And sad is my watch on the lonely hill, or poils Return the night-wind is cold on my brow, f amor smit an And my heart is as cold and desolate now. aft i Hord to Alas! await thee and hope in vain I shall never behold thy return again!

She stood on the beach all the starless night,
But nought appear'd to her eager sight;
£. No bark on its bosom the ocean bore,
5metxo bAnd he whom she loved return'd no more.
For the strangers came from the icy North,
And their words and their gifts had won him forth.
Their ship sail'd far from his native bay,
And it bore him to other regions away.

Saranna is the bread-fruit of the Japanese. tBaidare, the Japanese boat,

M. E.

Purple jessamine, Bignoria grandiflora, is a climbing plant, native of Japan;

flowers purple.

They ornament their parkis (mantles) and all their dresses with the feathers

of the sea-parrot, storm finch, and mauridor.

Japan produces red pearls, which are not less esteemed than white.

THE LITERARY WORLD.d boa ylish » da

"Credilo a me, credilo à me che questo è un mondaccio."
JODS. OF
P. ARETINO.

"WHAT will the world say?" all the world are full of it,"are expressions in daily use, whenever a Mr. Maguffin gets into a scrape, or a Judy O'Huggins contrives to make a judy of herself, although in all probability, (provided the living be a decent living), not one-tenth part of the parish ever heard of the celebrated Mr. Maguffin, or feasted its ears on the musical sounds which constitute the name of the fashionable Miss O'Huggins. "The world" is, in truth, one of those invaluable India-rubber phrases, the complaisant elasticity of which will accommodate itself to every possible intensity of signification. The world of Napoleon was a reasonable-sized world enough; and even Alexander might have been contented with his world, if, being the son of Jupiter, he had not prophetically foreseen the discovery of a transatlantic" other world," and been tormented with the second sight of a dish of chocolate and an Havannah segar,-in which particular of a hankering for colonial territories, he only sympathized with his modern antitype, that renowned warrior Ferdinand the detestable, the hero, child, and champion of the "monarchical principle." These, indeed, are something like worlds; but there are worlds which contrive to make an imposing figure in this our sublunary system, the pretensions of which to the title are highly questionable. The "fashionable world," the eatings and drinkings, and trippings of which on the "light fantastic toe" are so faithfully and so laboriously recorded in the "columns" of the Morning Post, scarcely embraces three thousand families. Still smaller is that self-important body, "the theatrical world," meaning, of course, those only who live and have their being in the intrigues of the green-room, the dwindling and bastard descendants of the Dangles of the last generation. "The religious world," indeed, with all its subdivisions, isles, and continents, its missionary societies, tract societies, and Bible societies, trunk and branch, supplementaryd and auxiliary, and supplementary-auxiliary, is a tolerably numerous body, and has some well-grounded claims to the appellation; but what are we to think of the world of that great mass of worthy souls, who, to obtain its transient notice, sacrifice their respectability and independence, to say nothing of their domestic comfort; though the whole sphere of the intercourse with their own species is circumscribed within the " polygon" or the "colonnade," and does not exceed the limits of halfa-dozen families? To this train of reflection we were led, in glancing over the pages of an old number of the "Revue Encyclopédique," (a French periodical work of great merit,) in which the relative proportion of the whole population of France is compared with the number of those who can, and who cannot read; and the facts rendered familiar by the sensible image of black circles, the dimensions of which are as the numbers they respectively represent. By this very simple expression of a most important truth, we were forcibly struck with the disproportion between the numerical strength and the influential activity of the corps of which we are ourselves unworthy members, “the, literary world." So much has been said, and justly said, of the growing civilization of Europe, and of the influence of the press, and so press,and

much is daily and hourly done in courts and camps, in cabinets and in tribunals, by corruption and by intimidation, to check this progress' and to annihilate this influence, that we were by no means prepared to find, that, though the larger of the subjoined circles suffices to shadow forth the whole population of that country which we have been in the habit of considering as the most highly civilized nation on the European continent, the smaller one does no more than represent the number of those honest fellows in France, who do not know A. from a bull's foot, or B. from a chest of drawers, and who use 64 no other books but the score and tally."

Reasoning from this datum, it follows that, if there be any fidelity in the type, a lens of some considerable power would be requisite to discover the speck which should represent the readers of Spain or Italy; and not even the microscopic eye of a fly, (if, as Pope asserts, that insect has a microscopic eye,) could detect the existence of such a corps in the continents of Asia and Africa. Yet does the small circumference which would embrace the difference between the above two circles, include within its " petty space" the whole number of Frenchmen who can read, not one in ten of whom perhaps ever does read more than a playbill, a restaurateur's carte, or the weekly account of his baker or blanchisseuse. If from this small remainder we again exelude those who are no judges of literary or of scientific excellence, how few will remain to estimate a Newton or a La Place, a Linnæus or a Cuvier, a Lavoisier or a Davy.

To come at once to that which touches ourselves most nearly; in how humiliating a point of view do these said circles place that literary fame for which we labour so hard, and for the most part, so much in vain! Thirty thousand readers, good, bad, and indifferent, embrace the “urbs et orbis" of the most fashionable periodical; and those even of the best authors are not much more extensive. What then are we to think of the "literary world," whose applause rejoiceth the heart of a second or third rate author, and puffeth up the conceit of the writers of an occasional essay, an elegy, or a "speech intended to be spoken?" Verily, it is all vanity and vexation of spirit. There is not a crackbrained craniologist in the Edinburgh coteries, notwithstanding, who does not imagine "all the world" to be occupied with his depressions and prominences, seeking for an explanation of the ups and downs of life by the irregularities upon the surface of the human knowledgebox; nor is there a miserable writer for mechanists and scene-shifters who will not tell you, with equal confidence, that "the world" thinks

12

of no other bumps than those which are raised on the pate of Mr. Grimaldi. Methinks it might something abate the vanity of many a can- ' didate for the digito monstrari" to measure his world by this canon of the Revue Encyclopédique, and place his little black circle by the side of that of Dr. Eady or Mr. Warren, or of the poetical and once popular Mr. Packwood, somewhile the "notus ommibus tonsoribus," and the omnibus tonsoribus," and the Coryphæus of those who w funguntur vice cotis." Nay, could the selfimportant folliculaires, who imagine they occupy the attention of nations fecion of nat with their wranglings and vituperations, be made to feel that everyday men, whose names belong to the history of literature, die unknown to the gossips of the next street, or imagine how small a mortal, evense the divine Locke, was in the eyes of his college bed-maker, it might serve to teach them a little discretion, and make them "take pains to allay, with some cold drops of modesty, their skipping spirit," who some cold drape, af mold of voice," for ordinary patience.

are now

But to bring a writer, be he who he may, to a true sense of his own insignificance, the best way is to force him to quit this "world," about which he is so conceited. Not that we recommend suicide, ***** Gardez vous bien," as Harlequin says, " de faire cette folie-la. Il n'y a rien de si contraire la santé." We merely would intimate the necessity of " changing the air, and leaving the narrow circle of local celebrity. Let the pamphleteer go into a theatrical circle, or the fashionable dramatista attend a few meetings of the Royal Society, and they will soon feel the nothingness of that "bubble reputation" which they are so eager to seek even in the reviewer's mouth.

There is a pretty sizeable literary world, which keeps in pay the " circulating libraries, and which might be called the Leaden-hall world," within the phosphoric sphere of which many brilliant lights move with! distinguished lustre, which are wholly unknown in every other region. "Tel brille au second rang," &c. The pamphleteer's world was just such another, till it was lost and immerged in the readers of daily journals." The world of magazines and reviews, on the contrary, is a thriving" world, and daily growing in consequence and consideration. Some Cockney authors have (to use a phrase of Cobbet's) "a nice little" world of their own; only it speaks a language unintelligible to all,' = except its own inhabitants. Then again, there is a half dozen or so of gentlemen poets, who flourish in country book-clubs among the "parsons much bemused with beer," and in the universities, where they figure as the Miltons and Shakspeares of the age, and stand far above poor Pope; who, God save the mark, is no poet at all! What may be the sort of attraction which forms the centre of this world, Heaven only knows, unless it be the obstinate desire of warring with "men, gods, and columns," and proving Horace a false prophet, and a bad judge of his art. Poor Jeremy Bentham's world, still smaller than all the rest, consists only of the wise and good, turpe et miserabile! and though, through the assistance of his translator, he is known from the Tagus to the Neva, he is read only by the select few. He, however, enjoys fame; but what a rare piece of illustrious obscurity, be-** yond all other, is the reputation of the most favourite law author; and still worse, that of medical writers, whose grim-gribber is seldom much' read, even by the profession itself.

Fortunately for the brethren of the quill, there is a world for every

thaba yuno ai dainuo odwet me to pod od 2Tous les discours sont des sottises mod doum anor" sat baste buss Partout d'un homme sans éclat. ad as argit #!lle ts 1960 Ce e seroient paroles exquises 400 700 vods blow enit to 91 Si c'était un grand qui parlât."-MOLIERE. THE 10 1102 il ad yem At least there are too many who are miserably impeded in their H search after fame by pre-occupants, who have possessed themselves of... the chief places at the feast of literature by dint of distinctions quite as f groundless and as aristocratic. The high-road to eminence is crowded and stuffed up with the favourites of blue-stocking muses, "qui aiment terriblement les énigmes," and are" diablement fortes sur les impromptus." Others dash along the surface, borne in t the car of a fashionable view some are picked up by the Admiralty, and launched on the world as first-rate geniuses on the strength of a ministerial squib, or a Tory pamphlet. Then again another knot contrive to attain notoriety by a persevering system of mutual puffing; thus persuading the simple, that, in wearing to a thread the mannerisms of a great writer,

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