He stept one step from her, and said, 6. She was a sweet and lovesome lass, Wi' a dark an' downcast ee; Now she's a wedded dame and douce, With bairnies at her knee; Yet oft she thinks on the sailor lad When the sea leaps on the shore. His heart was broke-and a storm came onHe ne'er shall waken more. 96 NEW DEPOSITORY FOR LITERARY MANUFACTURES. THE communications which ordinarily take place between the conductor of a periodical work, and the aspirants for fame and twenty guineas a sheet, ought to be as sacred from profane eyes or vulgar ridicule as the sighs of lovers, or the secrets of Freemasonry. We have, however, met with one remarkable exception to this law of the balaam-box; and, as the object of the writers of the following letter is notoriety, we cannot render them a more essential service than to publish an epistle, which was doubtless intended for our private eye, but which, in adorning our pages, will delight its authors almost as much as order for fifty guineas' worth of their wares. an To the Editor of the Quarterly Magazine. SIR,-You have probably not heard of our establishment in Leadenhall-street. We have not yet descended to the vulgar arts of our rivals;—we are above puffing. In this age of literary industry we have considered it not only a patriotic but a profitable speculation, to establish a factory for the exhibition and sale of original manuscripts, from the sermon to the sonnet. With this object we have engaged very extensive premises; and opened a correspondence with every eminent bookseller in town, and every Magazine and Newspaper proprietor in town and country. The magnitude and variety of our stock require only a few hours' inspection to satisfy the most careless observer. The liberal terms upon which we transact business, charging only a commission of twenty per cent., has procured for us the unparalleled assortment which we boast; and we are proud to say that we have already specimens of ability, and copy on sale, from two hundred and twenty-three eminent living authors. We have acquired this proud distinction, as we said before, without puffing. Not so our rivals. Thanks to the increasing supply of the market, we have found authors too numerous a race to require to be advertised for. Not so Messrs. SAINSBURY and Co. As a specimen of the arts by which the fair course of trade is impeded, we subjoin the copy of an adver tisement, which appeared in The Times newspaper of the 18th of February last : "POETRY.-Any Person competent to WRITE BALLADS of a superior description, and in various styles, may hear of OCCUPATION, by applying to Messrs. Sainsbury and Co. literary agents, 11, Bell's-buildings, Salisburysquare, between the hours of ten and two. Letters, post-paid, enclosing specimens, will be received, and an answer sent to the parties in a few days." Why, Sir, we had at that very time on our shelves an assortment of more than four hundred ballads, many of which we have since disposed of at a very handsome price to the Lady's Magazine, Ackermann's Repository, the Literary Gazette, and several other much esteemed publications. If you will honour us with a call we shall be able to give you some idea of our riches in that branch. A good connexion is worth all the advertisements in the world. To proceed to the business more immediately before us. Upon seeing the announcement of your new publication, we felt it our duty to look attentively through our stock ;—and we have taken the liberty of forwarding a list, with occasional specimens, of some articles which, we flatter ourselves, would make a very pretty addition to your regular contributions. An inviolable secrecy as to the names of the parties is one of our rules of business, unless we come to terms. You will excuse us therefore not being completely unreserved in the first instance. A considerable experience in the bill-broking line has taught us the value of such discretion. Your discernment will, in some cases, supply the place of any breach of confidence on our part. Amongst the goods which appear to us most likely to suit your demand, we have, first, an immense stock of Essays and Descriptive Pieces. We must candidly avow that "moral" essays are a drug in the market. However, if you should want any writers in the "heavy" line, we could supply you at the lowest rate. We have six articles on Temperance by a worn out roué now in the Fleet, who takes this mode of expiating his sins and raising his racket money-they are, on "Temperance in Gallantry," on "Temperance in Wine," on "Temperance in Turtle," on "Temperance in Play-going," on "Temperance in getting in Debt," and on "Temperance in Idleness." The essay on "Temperance in getting in Debt" is the most curious, and contains some valuable hints to insolvents, a very numerous and increasing class of readers. An article on 66 Honour," by the same hand, is a very edifying and convincing performance, and offers a most important code of instruction to men of fashion as to the proper treatment of tailors, the chaunting of horses, the management of dice, and the laws of protested bills-very proper to caution the unwary against the arts of tradesmen and the iniquity of duns. In a word, in the moral essay line we are somewhat overstocked ;-and shall therefore be happy, on suitable terms, to dispose of a great variety on every virtue and its contraries, with classical mottos and translations complete. Of Descriptive Pieces, by which name, for want of a better, we entitle the numerous class of Magazine articles on subjects of life and manners, we have a considerable stock. The age is indeed excessively prolific in writers upon such matters. "Nought is for them too high, or nought too low." Like Socrates they have brought philosophy from the clouds,-to make her figure in a description of a sugar basin, or a sedan chair. A gentleman's personal feelings and habits now supply an inexhaustible subject for his pen; he cannot shave himself without acquiring materials for an elegant Dissertation on Razors, or devour his Sunday dinner without concocting hints for a treatise on "Roast Pig." We hope you will go with the stream on these points, as the London and New Monthly have made their fortunes by a discreet attention to them. In this particular we are very anxious for your advantage;-and therefore send you a few specimens to which we beg to direct your especial notice. ON BRITISH WINES. We subjoin an extract on Gooseberry: "And now, while the wall-flower, with its rich velvet, is painted by the western sun, and the honeysuckle has crept through our latticed bower, coyly, like a fair maiden entering her first ballroom-let us taste our Champagne. Ah, Johnson, in spite of the Borough faction, we have some luxuries left yet;-the time may come when shall taste it "unexcis'd by kings"-but even now we will taste it. The glasses! Pooh! not these pale thimbles,-but the ample globes of green, in which the sparkling beads shall shine like emeralds. To the fairest. Well, how do you like it?'— 'Admirable ; —exquisite ;-the true Chateau-Margot,' answers Johnson, with a speaking uplooking eye of faith, and an undoubting smack of the lip. Ha, ha! Johnny, tell your mamma to send another bottle of the gooseberry.' The gooseberry?' "Yes, the gooseberry.' And thus it is that we can be as great in imagination as in Grosvenor-square; and have something left for flowers, and books, and busts, and Mozart, and a green bower, and a delicate voice to summon us to tea.' ON BLACK PUDDINGS. This essay has been entrusted to us as an original of a celebrated anonymous writer;-but we do not warrant its genuineness. "I have no anti-Christian prejudices against these mysterious rouleaus. "I consider them, however, creatures whose birth place should be some solitary farm, or unsophisticated village. They do not belong to the City. I cannot vouch for them at the Freemason's Tavern, hot and savory as Gaffirms they are. Their elements are undefinable, and they ask therefore an entire self abandonment of faith on the part of their devotees. I wish I could believe with the innocent Cockney that black-puddings grew. I must, however, to commence a friendship with them, dimly see them bourgeoning under the white fingers of some cleanly dairy-maid, such as I have beheld them at sweet S, in Hertfordshire. The notion of Fleet-street and chopping machines would make them as suspicious as A-la-mode Beef." ON POKERS. The writer of this essay is a great contributor to all the crack Magazines of the day: "There is a more than common importance attached to that most useful article of domestic economy, the Poker. I have known you seven years, so I may stir your fire,' is a proverbial piece of courtesy. It is an English idea, and has more philosophy in it than a German stove or Mr. Coleridge can supply. When I sit alone, in the calm interval between dinner and tea, with my feet on each hob, and my rum-and-water on the mantle shelf, the poker is my magician's wand. With this I can annihilate castles, or build up rocks;-with this I can quench the volcano of a gasspouting coal, or sweep off the Ariel wings of the filmy bars. A Lord Chamberlain's staff is a thing to be flung away after birth nights, or broken over graves;-but a poker is an ever present appendage to home delights. No ill-tempered man ever used a poker skilfully. The Editor of the Quarterly Review is a testy bungler at a stir ;-he is too irascible for a grate man. A Scotchman pokes a fire timidly from niggardliness:-an Irishman rashly, from a careless and self-willed abstraction. The most dainty master of the weapon I ever knew was Leigh Hunt. He accomplished the feat with the most amiable and poco-curante air in the world." In Criticism we are very rich. We are not only provided with stock articles on the various schools of poetry, but have several minute and elaborate treatises on the comparative merits of every author of the present day. For Reviews of New Books, we have cards of Terms from sixteeen professional critics, who may be always engaged at an hour's notice, as they employ a number of hands to execute any order speedily, and in any mode that the employer may dictate. In Theatrical Criticism we have a gentleman who contracts with four Magazines, to produce an article for each, on the same piece, perfectly varied and original; and we have little doubt, though we do not absolutely vouch for the fact, that he did Miss Mitford in the last London, New Monthly, European, Gentleman's and Sir Richard;-to say nothing of three daily, and seven weekly journals. We have, however, a critic who is chary of his great powers;-like Shenstone he would shrink from being thought an author by profession, and it was with the greatest difficulty that we could induce him to oblige us |