flated bladders of air, in order to make them the striplings of each succeeding generafloat, while to others they hung large lumps tion: look up there and see in what tatters of lead in a sly manner, by which I saw they are those books on that shelf, (these were, were immediately sunk. "Are these peo- Tom Jones, Roderick Random, &c.) in a ple employed by you, Sir?” said I. "Em-similar state will these be by the time they ployed by me! that they are not, indeed are as old." I expressed my surprise to see they are to me a continual annoyance, and many novels of less note preserved here.the cause of much vexation and trouble in "You need not be astonished at that," said conducting this branch of my business. he, " for a thousand years hence, when CiThey very often sink works which would vilization, and the ladies and gentlemen of otherwise float down unmolested, and their her suit, getting tired of their old abodes, bladders often support others a good way shall have taken up their residence in Otadown the stream, to the great annoyance of the heite or Kamschatka, when it will then be other floating volumes. But all their malice the fashion to walk on the crown of the comes at last to nought; the feeble threads head, and live at the bottom of coal mines, by which they tie on their lead gradually these works will afford some degree of rot away, when the incumbered work rises amusement. People will then be gratified again to the surface, and pursues its course in knowing how their forefathers used to with greater speed than before, and their walk on their legs, and live on the surface inflated bubbles often burst, or silently waste of the earth-how their grandmothers and to an empty skin, and down sinks the help- maiden aunts used to sip tea, gossip, and coless volume, and sticks fast in the mud,quette. Would it not have interested you never more to rise." I was proceeding to to have heard how the mighty Cæsar desay, that, although I thought such persons lighted in sporting his four-in-hand-in what might sometimes do harm, yet, on the whole, manner he set about shaving his beardthey were productive of good; but I obser- how the grave, the thoughtful, stoical, and ved that, during our conversation, he had philosophic Cato, got into a passion with been busy in laying up some volumes, and his wife for not mending a hole in his cloak I had missed the opportunity of ascertaining-or in what manner a Roman nymph would what they were. It was in vain that I beg-whimper and whine when she supposed herged him to take them down again, to see self in love? Here," said he, taking up the the titles; what he had once done was irre- celebrated works of a noble poet, "are vocable; and, without a moment's delay, he books which I must put on my shelves.-proceeded to pile up others. The first book Their poetical merit is undisputed. I say which I had an opportunity of looking at not so much for their morality, but I have a was a thin volume of a few pages, closely great variety of readers, and I must please printed; it was Marmion, the Lady of the all. To be sure, I have books which even Lake, &c. On my expressing my surprise angels might condescend to peruse-at the at seeing the fair creature so slenderly dres- same time I have others which afford spesed, he told me that I was not to suppose he cial merriment to fiends." "Excuse me, could admit every one in their court-dress; Sir, but I think the binding of these is not and besides, said he, I could not stow that so strong as will enable them to endure the lady and her associates on my shelves with handling which they will receive if their such a load of antiquated lumber on their future fame shall continue to equal what it backs. The next he took up were two thin is at present." "Pooh!" said he; “do you volumes-I read, Poems by T. Campbell. think the rage is to continue for ever?"This author," said Time," ought to be Many circumstances conspire to heighten held up as an example to all modern wri- contemporary fame-novelty, eccentricity, ters, whether of prose or poetry, but espe- birth, &c.; now-a-days, it is as great a micially of the latter; he is indeed an ancient racle to hear of a poetical lord as of a poetiin this respect, and reminds me of the good cal ploughman or sheep-shearer." A few old times; he never obtrudes any thing on more poetical works, and also some volumes the public without selecting and polishing on other subjects, followed, but with such his pieces with the most respectful care. I rapidity, that I was barely able to ascerwillingly allot a place in my shelves for him tain their names, and had no opportu-voluminousness is a great drawback to nity of getting his remarks on them. I obthe fame of a poet; The best of things be- served Wordsworth put by carefully ;yond their measure cloy,' as my good friend" This is a poet," said the librarian, "who Homer used to say." I took up a parcel of volumes tied together, and marked on the back, " Waverley," ," "Tales of my Landlord," &c. "Do you admit these ?" said I. "To be sure I do; and I have got them bound in the strongest and most substantial bindings, for many a tease will they get from

will by no means be neglected by posterity, although he will perhaps be saved the rather disgusting preference of being bandied about in every clown's mouth, yet he will not want his admirers of a particular cast. Aye, aye, this is our Dutch poet! [Crabbe] well, well, he must go in; he has merit, but

Strangely applied. It is a pity I did not to assign the superiority in every respect to construct a second gallery, for such poets that of horsemanship. There can be no who delight in grovelling in the dirt of Par- comparison between them in my eyes. The nassus, and diving amidst the mud of the one is as superior to the other in beauty, anipools of Helicon." mation, and heart-stirring power, as a canto "I perceive, Sir," said I, "that of the of Lord Byron's poetry is to a volume of Dr. works which you are kindly storing up for Southey's prose. The soul is expanded and futurity, a great proportion is of the poetical enlivened by the one-its faculties are bekind. Surely the present age has been won-numbed and deadened by the other. The derfully prolific in this department?" "Yes," pleasures of a gallop on horseback must be returned he; " I have now in my possession experienced; they cannot be described.a pretty mass of this immortal lumber. The The feeling is exquisite. It is one of unlabours of Hercules were but childrens' toy-mixed gratification. No corroding cares, ing, compared to the toil of wading through or harassing reflections, can break in to mar my poetical shelves. It was a good turn our enjoyment. The world and its distresses that those Goths and Vandals did me the are left behind. Futurity, and all its unother day, in demolishing the greater num-limited capacities, are before. Lord Byron ber of my shelves of Greek and Roman com- mentions a French renegado, who said that positions; I had not the heart to do it my-he never found himself on horseback in the self, and I confess I was a little vexed when desert without a sensation approaching to I heard it was done; but it was a very good rapture, almost indescribable. thing; it made those works which survived be more esteemed, and their merits better appreciated. I wish something of the same kind would happen to purge my modern shelves, otherwise I shall have to look out for a new house; and yet I am afraid this cannot be; that trick they have got, of printing by multiplying copies indefinitely, will baffle all attempts of this kind."

Our recollections of the heroes of former days are intimately associated with the names and qualities of their war-horses.Alexander would be very probably forgot, but for the noble Bucephalus; St. George would be nothing without his horse; and in Don Quixote, our affections are completely divided between his gallant steed and his almost equally gallant squire. The horses I began to observe, that, although print- of Richard the Lion-hearted, and of Charles ing may cause trifling inconveniences, yet the Fifth, &c. are just as celebrated as their these are infinitely counterbalanced by its noble riders; and, indeed, the picture of a advantages: but he interrupted me-"It hero is incomplete without his useful and romay be so; I have not leisure to consider mantic companion. The mind is not satisthe matter; all I can say is, I wish the man fied without it. Our modern warriors are who first invented it had been at But all represented on horseback. Buonaparte, I am trifling here, when my presence is re-mounted on his famous white charger, and quired elsewhere. Good morning, Sir !" surrounded by the splendour and elegance and he darted away in an instant, leaving us in astonishment at so much agility displayed by such an aged and decrepid being.

ON HORSEMANSHIP.

C.

of his Generals, contrasted with his own noble simplicity of attire, presents a dignified and interesting picture. Every person must be sensible, that, in the representation of a battle, the interest and the effect of the scene is powerfully increased by the spirit and beauty of the horses. "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse !" Skakspeare, Shakspeare. whose works contain a complete compenThere are few things more animating and dium of Nature, was well aware of all this. delightful than a ride on horseback. Dr. His works abound with beautiful allusions to Johnson talks of the pleasure of riding in a the horse; and in making use of them, he coach at full gallop; but the Doctor was succeeds in bringing us nearer to the scene no horseman, and therefore he could not he portrays, and raises up a new object of judge comparatively. It is indeed upon re-interest and affection. Richard's directions, cord, that he once attended a hunt at Brigh- the night before his fatal battle, ton; but upon that occasion it seems the "Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow," learned Doctor got entangled among the has been much and justly admired, both as hounds, and concluded the sports of the day being characteristically true, and as conveyby very nearly being in at the death of a ing a distinct image to the mind. I do not greater than reynard. I believe, also, he recollect any thing more affecting than the made another experiment of his skill in reflections of Richard the Second, upon being horsemanship, while in the Isle of Sky, on told that Bolingbroke had, at his coronation, one of the laird's highland nags; and a fine" rode on Roan Barbary." The loss of his picture Boswell makes of him, to be sure! crown seemed to be deemed trifling to the Any one, however, acquainted with both loss of his horse; the ingratitude of his these exercises, will not, I think, hesitate friends and subjects does not appear to have

touched him so deeply and so keenly as this mosphere and confined prospect of a fourseeming insensibility on the part of his four-cornered room.

footed favourite. He inquires, with anxious solicitude :

"Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
How went he under him?

Groom. So proudly, as he had disdain'd the ground.
K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
That jade had ate bread from my royal hand;
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,
(Since pride must have a fall) and break the neck
Of that proud man that did usurp his back?"

I think it is Montaigne who says he would rather be a good horseman than a good logician. There certainly appears to be no inconsistency between these two qualitiesand it seems quite possible for a man to have both. It happens, however, very unaccountably, as I opine, that there are several individuals of this learned city who are reputed great wits and powerful logicians, who, notwithstanding almost daily practice, I might gratify my readers, and myself, are yet very deficient in the science of with many more extracts on this subject; horsemanship. It might be deemed invidibut there is neither leisure nor space afford- ous, and perhaps my motives might be mised me. I should, however, like to know if construed, were I to point them out by a Shakespeare was himself given to horsing. more precise description; but they are seen There is no judging a poet by his works, as almost daily on horseback, and yet their was beautifully illustrated in the case of progress in the acquisition of this graceful Jemmy Thomson; and, so far as I recollect, accomplishment is extremely slow. Day none of his biographers or commentators after day on horseback-day after day make mention of his inclinations that way; galloping, and trotting, and attempting but no conclusion, either on the one side or all the other modes of getting forward, the other, can be drawn from their silence, and making a display, which are as their attention was unfortunately directed ally practised by equestrians, it remains to a crowd of other topics, which threatened a kind of problem how these individuals almost to overwhelm at once the meaning|should still continue in their original state and the fame of the illustrious bard. It is of ignorance and inability to ride either with no doubt true, that the literary men of the comfort or with grace. Neither time nor olden time were a different sort of people, practice makes the least perceptible imand moved in a very different sphere from provement on them. I do not know wheththeir successors of the present day. Their er the phrenologists could throw any light wishes were probably more humble, and upon this question; but it appears to be one their difficulties more urgent; and instead peculiarly calculated for their consideration. of being ambitious to exhibit on horseback, There may exist some incompatibility, not they were probably solicitous rather of a yet discovered, or at least not known seat at a city feast, and to display their skill to the old sects of Philosophers, between the in the mysteries thereof. Times are alter-possession of a certain portion of brains ed, and poets have undergone a manifest heavily imbued with scholarship, and that change, in outward things at least. They agility which is requisite to make a good rimay, now-a-days, indulge themselves in der; but I leave this very interesting and every humour, and in the luxury of riding in important inquiry to their more profound coaches as well as on horseback; and they, researches. and the world, are the better for it. Their It may perhaps be difficult to distinguish poetry is improved by it. A ride on horse- the contortions of a Philosopher from the back dissipates idle humours, and clears hacking of a horse couper or muirland faraway the muddiness of the brain; it excites mer; but there is one character which canthe animal spirits, and inspires new ideas of not be mistaken on horseback,-I mean life and happiness. I am convinced Walter that of a gentleman: the bearing of a genScott is fond of riding on horseback, and I tleman is indeed discoverable in every situthink I remember of some person admiring ation, and in all his actions, however trivial. the dignity of his appearance when mount- There is nothing he does, or can do, but ed. It is well known that Byron was (alas! what is done in the best taste, and with the that I should live to speak of him as one greatest propriety, grace, and politeness. that is past!) very partial to this exercise; In entering a room, or in doing any of the and I have no doubt that his finest passages little agreeables of polite life, the feeling were committed to paper immediately on his and tact of a gentleman is distinctly disreturn from the course; or perhaps he car-cernible, and can neither be mistaken nor ried materials with him," to catch the liv-counterfeited by the imitations of less-gifted ing image as it rose." Sterne used to com- individuals. But in no situation is the supose his sermons when on horseback; and periority of a gentleman so manifest and the situation and exercise are calculated to inspire the mind with a variety of ideas, aud a beauty and energy of language, which may in vain be looked for in the close at

unequivocal, and so incapable of imitation, as upon horseback. His position is the most secure, and at the same time the most easy and graceful. He has a perfect com

Although an ardent admirer of the beauties of horsemanship, I am no jockey, or admirer or encourager of jockeys. I like nothing about hunting but the romance of it. The sight of the hounds, and the hunters, and the horses, in a clear morning, ascending out of a woody dell in full cry, is one which I could never witness without the highest delight and admiration. The cries of the huntsmen, the full swell of the horns, and the howlings of the hounds, re-echoed through the woods, ring in the ear with a thrilling ecstacy of pleasure. I have had some experience of the high excitements of the hunter in scenes like these; but it strikes me, that the finest gratification is felt only by the on-looker, who comprehends and enjoys the whole romantic scene, and, like the spectator of a battle, can follow out its varied mazes without his attention being distracted by personal risks, or his vision limited by natural obstacles.

mand of himself and the animal beneath | fined; the minds of the female world have him; and, which excludes every idea of re- been too highly improved to countenance or bellion or cross-purposes between them, one admit of any such practices now; and in renever anticipates or thinks of the possibility commending this exercise to my fair friends, of such a thing, when contemplating the I have no fear of its being carried to such progress of a gentleman on horseback. an extreme. It is, I am sure, calculated to They move as if they formed one piece of improve their health and increase their hapbeautiful and graceful machinery. And re- piness; and it is really important to encourally we cannot wonder, that the first people age the cultivation of all those "means and who were seen on horseback were taken for appliances" by which such important objects a people half-horse half-man, so much were may be attained. I have no wish certainly, they considered as one. to see my fair friends continually at a hard But there is one object far superior to all gallop, and far less do I ever wish to see these, in point of interest, gracefulness, and the day when they shall follow the houndsbeauty, I mean a lady mounted on an am- leap a five-bar gate-or display their powers bling palfrey. The philosopher and the on the race-course. Let them be moderate, gentleman must bow their diminished heads gentle, and delicate, and I shall delight, before such an aspiring object. I remem- above all things, in seeing them well pracber the first time I saw the lovely Monticed in this delightful accomplishment. horseback, and the scene shall never be forgot. After the tedious toil of a long day's unsuccessful fishing, I was returning home jaded and fatigued. On the gentle sloping hill from which my little home and the neighbouring village could be seen, I stood for a moment contemplating the happy scene. The sun was just going down in glorious and gorgeous splendour, and the surrounding landscape was tinged with its harmonious and golden hues. The lovely lady, mounted on a milk-white pony, came upon me suddenly at this place. The reflection of the setting-sun, and the lively exercise she was engaged in, had brightened her countenance to an appearance quite heavenly; and when she disappeared from my sight, she left me in doubt whether she was a being of heaven or of earth, so sudden, so bright, and so beautiful, had been the apparition. It is rather surprising to me that an accomplishment so graceful should not be more general amongst the ladies. They may rest assured, that in no exercise or movement is it in their power to excite a more exquisite interest, or a higher admiration, and there is none better calculated to heighten their beauty and enliven their spirits. The quadrille, or the waltz, or the promenade, no doubt, afford admirable opportunities for the display of elegance and grace but the situation on horseback is much more elevated, and the appearance is more imposing; and in avoiding late hours and the fatigues of a ball-room, they are more than compensated by the benefit derived from an exhilarating ride. Our older moralists were rather disposed to censure and ridicule the female equestrian; and if their representation of the character of that day is to be taken as correct, their censures were perhaps called for, and merited. these instances, it would appear that there was an assumption of masculine demeanor and vulgar habits, equally unbecoming and indelicate. But the present age is too re

In

STANZAS.

"O gie me back my heart again,
For its owre true for thy fause breast!
Thou silly thing! stay nearer hame,
Gin thou wad prize thy yerthly rest.
But she is fair although she's fause!
A waist sae genty nane may see!
The lire upon her taperin" hawse
Wad match the snaw on Benahie!
O! wha could smile, yet leuk sae proud?
-Fuil that I was my heart to tyne !
Aft vaunts she o' her gentle bluid-
I darena mint to speak o' mine!

What then? Grace sits upon her brow!
Her cheeks-nae rose was e'er sae bright!
Her lips-twa cherries ripe to pow!
Her een-twa beams o' heavenly light!

Thy lot is dool, thy flutterin' thing,
An' thou hast changit thy peace for sorrow!
Ah! sae, the joys that charm to-day,
Aft fill the cup o' wae to-morrow.

POETRY.

THE MALDIVIAN BOAT.

"The Maldivian Islanders annually send adrift a boat, at the mercy of winds and waves, loaded with perfumes, flowers, and odoriferous wood, as an offering to the spirit whom they call King of the Sea."

LAUNCH ye the bark on the sunny shore,
But bring nor helm, nor sail, nor oar;
It must bound alone o'er the summer tide,
Not a hand to steer, nor a sail to guide ;
The peopled coast it must leave behind,
And be borne away by the viewless wind;
It must go, as the waves of the ocean, free,
A gift for the King of the dark-blue sea.

Launch ye the bark, and bring rich flowers
From your lemon groves and Acacian bowers:
Bring ye the roses that bloom all the year,
Fair as the roses of happy Cashmere;
Bring ye the lily and lotus that grow
Where the loveliest streams of Maldivia flow;
Bring ye the buds of the amra tree,

They are gifts for the King of the dark-blue sea!

Oh! the vessel is sacred, fling o'er it soft showers
Of sandal, and basil, and amaranth flowers,
For though gay are the garlands of famed Candahar,
Yet ours are more gay, more luxuriant by far;
And though rich are the perfumes of bright Bandemeer,
Yet perfumes as rich, as enchanting are here;

They have lured from far meadows the damsel and bee,
But their dews and their honeys must float o'er the sea.
Bring fruits too-ripe fruits-such as Malay might boast,
Such as smile in gay bloom on the Indian coast;
Grapes, like the grapes of Casbin-and plantains,
From the gardens of Caubul, or Bockara's plains;
And apples, all golden, 'mong leaves of fresh green;
The date, the pomegranate, and rich mangusteen;
And the orange and cherry from sunny Cobhee,
They are gifts-welcome gifts-for the King of the sea!
Now launch ye the bark, let it wander away,
With its fruits, and its incense, and festoons so gay;
Let it wander away to the east or the west,
Where the day god awakes, or reposes in rest;
The nymphs of the deep will sport round it, and sing
Glad songs as they bear it, in joy, to their King:
Then launch ye the bark, for as ocean's waves free,
It must float to the Spirit who reigns o'er the sea!
H. G. B.

SONG OF THE CID. [Founded on a passage in Southey's Chronicle.] The Cid's Rising.

'Twas the deep mid-watch of the silent night,
And Leon in slumber lay,

When a sound went forth in rushing might,
Like an army on its way!
In the stillness of the hour,

When the dreams of sleep have power,
And men forget the day.

Through the dark and lonely streets it went,
Till the slumberers woke in dread;

The sound of a passing armament,

With the charger's stony tread, There was heard no trumpet's peal, But the heavy tramp of steel,

As a host's, to combat led.

Through the dark and lonely streets it pass'd,
And the hollow pavement rang,

And the towers as with a sweeping blast,
Rock'd to the stormy clang!
But the march of the viewless train
Went on to a royal fane,

Where a priest his night-hymn sang.

There was knocking that shook the marble floor,
And a voice at the gate, which said-
"That the Cid Ruy Diaz, the Campeador,
Was there in his arms array'd;

And that with him, from the tomb,
Had the Count Gonzalez come,
With a host, uprisen to aid;

And they came for the buried king that lay

[This city was besieged by Hannibal, A. M. 3593.The besieged were so pressed by famine, that all hopes of relief seeming desperate, they resolved to abandon the city. The reader will naturally imagine to himself the grief with which these miserable people must be seized, on their being forced to leave their houses, rich possessions, and their country. But the most grievous circumstance was, the necessity they were under of leaving the sick and aged, who were unable either to fly or to make the least resistance.-Rollin's Ancient History.]

The clash of war rang loud;

The sword of slaughter gleam'd;
But shriller from the starving crowd,
The voice of anguish scream'd;
Many arose in haste to fly-
Then dropp'd upon the roads-to die!
Death stalked the streets each day,
And from his armed hand,
Dealt the deep blow of agony,

Shriek'd-horror to the land!-
As in a frightful dream men slept-
Mothers look'd on their babes-and wept:

And there sat one yet young,

An old starved man her care;
Nor painter's hand-nor poet's tongue,
E'er pictured maid as fair-
Each feature's grace, her curls' dark braid,
Seem'd by Love's self, Love's genius made.
Beauteous she sat-while he
Bade her in flight to seek

Her safety, and the enemy

Not half the woe could wreak :
The thought would sooth his direst hour,
To know his child had 'scaped their power.

Then she would kiss his brow:
And to his calls to fly,

Said, were the foe upon them now,

There were full time to die :-
She would not leave his snow white head,
For foeman's rabble foot te tread.

Next her young lover came,

The city walls were thrown;

And to escape from death-from shame-
One moment was their own:

That lost, then passed their only chance,
Each street would gleam with sword and lance.
Think of their brutal hand,

A maiden thou-and fair-
O! haste thee-fly this ruined land,
For love and life elsewhere!-
Her father gazed upon her face :-
She wept but did not quit her place.

Father, I have a vow!

Life seem'd almost to flee-
Go-go dear youth-oh, leave me now-
I may not follow thee.

The Gods be with thee-plead no more-
Leave me and seek some happier shore.

He's gone-she's left alone-
Alone among the dead;

Her sire has breath'd his dying groan,
In blessings on her head.