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SONG.

By James Miller.

Could the rose in the vale, love,

But whisper o' me,

And the voice o' the gale, love,

But carry 't to thee,

'Twould tell a wee story,

So tender o' me,

How I watch'd long and wearie,
Awaiting on thee.

I wish'd the wee starie
To speed on its way,
And bring me my Marie,
When twilight was grey;-
When the rill made a humming,
My ear caught the noise,

I said, She is coming,

I hear her sweet voice.

If a stray bird play'd whistle,
My heart gied a beat,
If the leaves made a rustle,
I thought 'twas thy feet ;-
An' aye, in a fain mood,

I ever sin syne

Think the voice o' the greenwood Sounds very like thine.

West-Houses.**

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It is melancholy to see the heap of papers which still remain; but, as Sandy Snodgrass says, we "daurna for the life o' us prent them." But many a time and oft do we hope to meet our contributors in our SLIPPERS, and the unsuccessful candidates now, may be the successful ones hereafter.

If, at the commencement of this article, we have indulged in a strange and dreamy mood, we once more retire into the dignity of our inner selves, and for several

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THIS Number contains such a variety of matter, so much that is really good, and so much that is really bad, that our readers must allow us to go over its articles separatim and in succession.

The first article, "On the late Revolution in France," is political, and lies, therefore, beyond our sphere. All that we can say of it is, that it is a spirited and readable piece of composition.

That which immediately follows, "On the Misrepresentations of Clarendon," especially in reference to John Ashburnham, groom of the chambers to Charles I., is a clear-headed investigation of the trustworthiness of" the historian of the great rebellion." It is creditable to the acuteness and industry of its author. It is one of the many proofs which have been submitted to the public, that we must be extremely shy of trusting to Clarendon's statements, when not supported by the evidence of others. It fails, however, to convince us that he was intentionally dishonest. He was a partisan, and saw things under the influence of jaundiced feelings; and he seems to have written much from a vague recollection of first impressions, without sufficient reference to documents and criticism of evidence. He was a politician, and, like all that class, allowed himself a latitude in the transactions of public business which would have startled even himself in private life; but we do think that in writing his History, he believed himself to be writing truth. Neither are we of opinion that the Reviewer has succeeded in making out a good case for Ashburnham. Clarendon acquits him of intentional treachery, and the Reviewer admits that he lost his presence of mind, and allowed himself to be outwitted.

The "Sketch of the Progress of Geological Science," contained in the third article, is the ablest and most satisfactory outline of this science and its growth that we have met with. We could wish that it had commenced a little less pedantically. "The earth is one of eleven planets which revolve round the sun," is the first sentence. A few lines further on, we are told, with equal gravity, "Man, as an individual, lives only about eighty years." Now really to see such truisms stated with all the deliberation of an axiom, and as if they were indispensable to the right understanding of what is to follow, is likely to prejudice many of the readers against the essay, and make them skip it altogether, which will be a great loss to them, for it is a masterly paper.

The fourth article contains an entertaining and instructive summary of the light thrown by Burckhardt's posthumous works upon the manners and history of the Bedouin Arabs, and the Mahommedan sect of the Wahabys. We regard the materials collected by that enterprising traveller as a most important contribution to the history of moral culture.

"Colonel Tod's Memoirs of Rajasthan" are discussed in the fifth article much in the same manner as " Burckhardt's Notes” are in that which precedes it. The ground occupied by the Colonel, however, is not quite so new as that by the historian of the Bedouins, and we were therefore entitled to expect, on the part of the critic, such a knowledge of what had been done by previous labourers in the same field, as would have enabled him

to estimate the quantity and quality of additional knowledge afforded by the work subjected to his review. From the whole tenor of the article, however, we incline to suspect that he brought no previous knowledge of the subject to his task, and was consequently at the mercy of any assertion the author might choose to hazard.

The review of Dr Morehead's "Dialogues on Natural and Revealed Religion" is a just and generous appreciation of the merits of that work.

The next article takes under consideration a batch of novels, beginning with "Cyril Thornton," and ending with "The King's Own." The criticism is candid and ingeniotis.

The Review of "Allen on the Rise and Growth of the Royal Prerogative in England" is a pardonable puff of an old contributor.

us. We subjoin a brief sample of the style of philoso phising adopted by the gentleman who has boldly attempted to write Dr Brown down an ass. "Relatives are only known together: the science of contraries is one. Subject and object, mind and matter, are known only in co-relation and contrast-and in the same common act: while knowledge, as at once a synthesis and an antithesis of both, may be indifferently defined an antithetic synthesis, or a synthetic antithesis, of its terms."

Upon the political article respecting the Parliamentary Reform of Scotland, we decline offering an opinion.

The article purporting to be a review of Galt's Life of Byron, is another that calls for the severest reprobation. It commences thus :-"This (The National Library) is one of the many works which have been lately published in imitation, or apparent imitation, of the plan adopted Article IX., entitled, "Philosophy of Perception by the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. Reid and Brown," is, with one exception, the most Of these Dr Lardner's Cyclopædia is by much the most painful and objectionable part of the Number. The valuable, and the most recommended by distinguished asEdinburgh Reviewers have been accused of studiously sistance, scientific and literary. Considered as booksellavoiding every allusion to Dr Brown's philosophical ing speculations, they may all be allowed to be moderately writings. The first question that presents itself regarding priced; but in this most essential recommendation they this their first notice of him is, in what spirit have they are still greatly excelled by the Libraries of the Society.” undertaken the task? Let this brief answer suffice to Again, "The Society originally bent itself almost exclushow, They omit entirely to enquire what Dr Brown sively to the important task of bringing down the enorhas really effected in the science of metaphysics, and limit mous price of books, which was by degrees confining the themselves to a proof, that in two passages of one of his use of them more and more to those classes of society works he has misrepresented a doctrine of Reid. Be it who are in easy circumstances." And yet again,—“ It remembered, too, that the work, upon some isolated texts is manifest that such books as many of the volumes formof which they have pounced with an article of fifty pages, ing the libraries, both of Entertaining Knowledge and the was a course of introductory lectures, in which he could Family Library, might be composed by a variety of litenot enter at large into controversy, and that it has been rary men; and that consequently competition must be published since his death, and was not prepared by him fatal to any one of this sort, not sold at the lowest price for the press. We see what their apology will be the possible. * * Those of the Society must always have object of the article was to discuss this isolated question, a material advantage, from being revised by many eminot to estimate the general merits of Doctor Brown. nent men of science and letters, which gives a security But is it fair towards a man of genius, that, after a long against errors, and even against omissions, not attainable and undeserved neglect, the first allusion to him in by the works of unaided individuals. Hence the authothe Edinburgh Review should consist of a sweeping rity of the Society's Treatises will always be higher, and charge of ignorance, rested (even allowing that they therefore competition will be less hurtful to them." The have made good their point) upon a solitary instanice reviewer then graciously remarks, that Mr Murray's" is of error? They say of Dr Brown's lectures,—“ we a very excellent, and always entertaining, if not always are not aware that, with one exception, (Sir J. Mackin- instructive miscellany," and that Dr Lardner's Cyclotosh's Dissertation,) any one attempt has yet been made pædia departs less widely than any of the others from the to subject them, in whole or in part, to an enlightened Society's system of always making amusement subordiand impartial criticism." If this be true, has the Edin-nate to instruction; and tells us finally," The Society burgh Review been doing its duty? And now that it has, at the eleventh hour, condescended to notice them, did not justice require that a statement of their general character and merits should appear, before the critic lowered himself to the pitiful task of searching for and parading occasional mistakes? Is it his intention (some expressions almost lead us to anticipate as much) to follow up the present attack by devoting fifty pages to every error he may hereafter discover in Dr Brown's works? The article which has elicited these remarks, under the false colours of being a defence of Dr Reid, is simply an attack upon Dr Brown; for the writer is obliged to admit that the former was in error, although he attempts to prove that Brown did not succeed in showing where the error lay. We are at one with the Reviewer in his opinion that Brown was deficient in metaphysical reading; but we despise the spirit which can dwell upon and exaggerate this deficiency, while passing over, in sullen silence, all the originality and subtlety of intellect displayed in every page of his writings. We admit that the Reviewer has proved himself to have gone through a varied and extensive course of reading-we only wish that he had made a better use of it than waste fifty pages upon a demonstration, for which half-a-dozen would have richly sufficed, thus laboriously proving himself one of those unhappy wiseacres who can only see the faults of great men. We have often heard the Edinburgh Review accused of hostility to Dr Brown-we refused to believe the report, until themselves took the trouble to convince

never omíts a single occasion to give the practical improvement, the useful reflections, suggested by, or which can by some stretch be connected with, the more amusing [more amusing?] parts of its treatises. All tends to instruction in its treatises; in those of the other Libraries, which adopt the name, but widely depart from the nature of the thing, amusement-in fact, sale is the main object."

We should have been somewhat puzzled with this seemingly gratuitous attack upon all the various Libraries now publishing, with the sole exception of those issued under the superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, but that circumstances have put it in our power to take a peep behind the scenes. Mr Brougham is, to our belief, the founder-to our knowledge, the most active, talented, and influential member of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge,— Mr Brougham is-or, till a very late period, was one of the most indefatigable and powerful writers in the Edinburgh Review. He has uniformly managed to make that publication subservient to his political schemes; and its conductors have not failed to make it blow, on all occasions, the trumpet of his fame. It is a well-known practice of that work to append to the name of a book an original essay, in which the book they are supposed to review is not once mentioned. We have seen at least one work of Mr Brougham's thus circumstanced. with supplementary essay by himself tagged to its tail, and foot-note appended by the editor, lauding to the skies tha

talent and patriotism of the author. It was very natural that Mr B. should employ such a convenient and influential medium for recommending his favourite project; and accordingly the article upon which we are now commenting, is not the first, by a round half-dozen, in which the Society's Libraries have been applauded to the echo. We have not the least objection to this. Every man, Franklin told us nearly a century ago, has a right to blow his own whistle, and we suppose the same holds of his trumpet. But when, not contented with praising himself, he turns round and begins to disparage his neighbours, it is high time to stop his mouth. Before proceeding, however, to show the hollowness of the Society's pretensions, one fact is worthy of notice. Two only of the various Miscellanies now in the course of publication, are half excepted from the sweeping censure passed upon all-Mr Murray's and Dr Lardner's. Mr Murray is the publisher of the Quarterly Review; and it might not have been safe to rouse a man possessed of such an efficient instrument for retaliation. Dr Lardner numbers among his contributors Sir James Mackintosh and Mr Macaulay, both of them possessed of considerable influence in the coterie which manages the Edinburgh

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But to come to the point, the Reviewer affirms that all the Libraries now publishing are in imitation of the Society's, and that it is the best. First, of the claim to originality. It is altogether unfounded. We do not stop to enquire in how far all the Miscellanies may incline to admit that their object is identical with that of the Society but sure we are, that its plan is servilely copied from that of the Miscellany projected by the late Mr Constable, and still in the course of active publication. By application to the publishers of the "Library of General Knowledge" here, we learn that "it commenced in March 1827." The term is ambiguous, but we will take the most favourable interpretation-that the first number was =published of that date. Now, Mr Constable announced this Miscellany so early as 1825, and spent, at that time, = upwards of L.2000 in advertisements and prospectuses. The earliest of these at present in our possession, is dated the 20th of June, 1825; and we quote from another, dated 26th of December, 1825, a few sentences, to show how completely it occupied the ground, of which the Review now represents the Society as the original holders:

"The change that has gradually taken place during the last thirty or forty years in the numbers and circumstances of the reading public, and the unlimited desire of knowledge that now pervades every class of society, have suggested the present undertaking. Previously to the commencement of the late war, the buyers of books consisted principally of the richer classes-of those who were brought up to some of the learned professions, or who had received a liberal education. But now when the more general diffusion of education and of wealth, has occasioned a vast increase in the number of readers, and in the works which daily issue from the press, a change in the mode of publishing seems to be called for.

The strong desire entertained by most of those who are engaged in the various details of agriculture. manufactures, and commerce, for the acquisition of useful knowledge and the culture of their minds, is strikingly evinced by the esta blishment of subscription libraries and scientific institutions, even in the most inconsiderable towns and villages throughout the empire; and by the extensive sale which several very expensive, though by no means valuable works, published in numbers, have met with. Under these circumstances, it occurred to the projector of this Miscellany, that if standard works, not hitherto accessible to the great mass of the public, intermingled with original treatises on subjects of great general importance, and executed by writers of acknowledged talent, were published in a cheap, convenient, and not inelegant form, they would obtain a most extensive circulation, and be productive alike of benefit to the public, and of profit to those concerned in them.

"In the selection of treatises, and in the mode of circulation,, the publishers have adopted that plan which they supposed would be most likely to meet the wishes of the great mass of readers, or of the middle classes. The object in view is to render this Work a truly National Publica

tion, and which shall be equally acceptable to readers of all parties and denominations."

In an advertisement of a later date, we find the following passage:—“ "The present work will be published in a series of weekly numbers. It will be circulated, not merely by the ordinary modes of bookselling, but also by means of newsvenders, and other dealers in books, in town and country. It is proposed that three numbers shall form a volume, and that each author or subject shall be kept separate, so as to enable purchasers to acquire all the numbers or volumes of each book distinct from the others." Mr Constable's house became bankrupt in January or February 1826, which occasioned a delay; but towards the end of that year, he completed such arrangements as enabled him to publish the first number on the 6th January, 1827-that is, three months before the commencement of the Library of General Knowledge. Mr Constable was for a long period the publisher of the Edinburgh Review-and at any rate, it is not likely that a prospectus so novel in its character, coming from a person so universally known and respected as Mr Constable, could have passed unnoticed by Mr Brougham in 1825. We know that the prospectus of 1826 was sent to him among other Members of Parliament. We have only one other circumstance to notice: Constable's Miscellany has now reached its sixtieth volume ; it contains many works, original, translated, and reprinted; but the Edinburgh Review has not yet condescended to name it. Upon these facts we make no comment.

Upon the question of comparative merit, it is less neces. sary to dilate. The public has had ample opportunity of judging for itself. We have no wish to detract from the character of the Society's publications, or to deny the good they have done. We only enter our protest against the coterie presuming itself to sit in judgment upon this question. There is something, however, in the innuendo about the "many eminent men of science and letters" who "revise" the different numbers, which must not be passed over in silence; but we reserve this matter for a full exposition, which we have in view, of the system and its effects. To these remarks we have only to add, that the Reviewer's observations on Galt's book are severe, but not the less just on that account.

The review of Lord Leveson Gower's works is an article of unequal merit. The first part, which is playful, is good; the second, which is meant to be profound, is bad.

The grand finale, "The General Election and the Ministry" is out of our way. Perhaps, however, we may be allowed to hint, that since the use of poisoned Weapons is prohibited in war, it may be as well to lay. them aside in political conflicts also.

Friendship's Offering: A Literary Album, and Christmas and New Year's Present, for 1831. London. Smith, 1831. Elder, and Co.

THIS Annual has been a special favourite with us ever since it came into the hands of Thomas Pringle. It is, besides, the second oldest in existence; and we are among those who think that old acquaintances should be kept in mind. Most of the established contributors to these elegant volumes appear in the pages of the Friendship's Offering. We have Miss Mitford, with her pleasant tales of rural life;-Barry Cornwall, with his poetry, sometimes spirited, but more frequently dreamy ;-Malcolm, with the linked sweetness of his flowing measures; - Derwent Conway, with his well-told Norwegian legend;-William Howitt, with his pretty quaker-like verses;-Mary Howitt, with her stronger, more impassioned, and less quaker-like compositions ;-Leitch Ritchie, with his shining Eastern tale ;-Thomas Haynes Bayley, with his slightly puerile ballads of domestic life;

-Croly, with, when he does not write too hastily, his We give thanks unto Kennedy, for having so justly apvigorous thoughts and nervous expressions ;-Allan Cun-preciated its merits in the piece of sterling blank verse ningham, with his fresh songs of the Solway, or of the which it has elicited from him. And in a yet more green haughs of Teviotdale ;-Miss Jewsbury, with a especial manner, we give thanks unto Messrs Smith, spice of philosophy not unmingled with feeling in her Elder, and Co., the worthy publishers, for having sent stanzas ;- -Banim, with an Irish sketch, dashed off after us, along with a complete set of their plates, three extra the manner of Salvator Rosa ;-Mrs S. C. Hall, with proofs of Poesie, two of which shall be framed for our another Irish sketch, gentler and more Claud-like ;- own private use, and the third bestowed on him or her T. K. Harvey, with a weight of tender feeling resting on whose ardent and enthusiastic mind is most prepared to his verses, like dew on an overladen flower; and, though receive the gift with due gratitude. We pronounce last, not least, Pringle himself, and with him those arcades Poesie-the embellishment in the Annuals for 1831;-it ambo-Kennedy and Motherwell-who, as the Shep- is alone worth treble the price at which any one of them herd says, seem to know each other well." Many more is sold. We may observe, however, that the print, to be also there are, of smaller note, or, if not of smaller note, seen to the best advantage, requires a larger and fuller of less frequent occurrence, in the world of Annuals. margin than the size of the "Friendship's Offering” adAmong these, we observe our friends, Charles Macfarlane, mits of. We, on this account, value our proof impressions author of "Constantinople in 1828," the “Armenians," the more. &c., Dr Bowring, and the authors of the "Odd Volume." The embellishments to the Friendship's Offering possess many attractions. First and foremost, we have a maiden of high degree, painted by Leslie, and designated Adelaide. Truly such a damsel as any man might be proud to own as the ladie of his love, a soft eye, a pleasant nose, a cherry lip, a dimpled chin, and "waving curls abune the bree;" to say nothing of

a waist 'twould be rapture to span,
If the pawkie wee cuttie would ca' us gudeman.”
Next comes the Last Look, which we cannot praise so
conscientiously, and, therefore, the less we say about it
the better. Next, a splendid Indian landscape to illus-
trate Leitch Ritchie's tale of the "Maid of Rajasthan,"
drawn by Colonel James Tod, and brilliantly engraved
by E. Finden, Next, a picture by Stephanoff, entitled,
The Rejected, very elegant and gentlemanlike, as all
Stephanoff's pictures are, exhibiting a haughty maiden
flinging away, with an air of complete indifference, from'
a gallant cavalier who kneels most humbly at her feet,
We wish Mr T. H. Bayley had written a better poem
than he has done upon this subject. As a companion to
this engraving, follows The Accepted, in which a nice
enough lassie is permitting a young Highlander to slip a
ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, and a village
church, discoverable in the background, seems to indicate
that the marriage-day is not very far distant. Better
than any of these is a wild and vigorously-conceived
scene, entitled The Mountain Torrent, painted by W.
Purser, engraved by E. Goodall, and enhanced in inte-
rest by an excellent prose story which accompanies it,
written by Kennedy. Next comes one of Prout's fine
city scenes,- St Mark's Place, Venice. Next, Ascanius
in the lap of Venus, a picture that is all alive with glad
faces of Cupids, Graces, and Goddesses. Next, Mary
Queen of Scots going forth to Execution, painted by
Stephanoff, but the subject is beyond his depth. Next,
the Halt of the Caravan, by W. Purser, a gorgeous com-
position, warm, rich, and impressive. Next, Auld Robin
Gray, a very good picture, by J. Wood, but scarcely cha-
racterised by the intense feeling of the ballad. And last
and best, and far above all the others, Poesie, a female
head, by Carlo Dolci, engraved by William Finden.
Well has Kennedy said of the noble and elevated expres-
sion which the Italian master has communicated to this
admirable work-

"Beauty, that language fails, yet pants, to picture-
Solemn, though soft-august, though love-inspiring-
Passion and Wisdom's blended workmanship
Hath crown'd thee with perfection, elder-born
Of a rejoicing world!"

We give thanks unto Pringle, for having rescued from
the oblivion of some old gallery this gem of art-this
emanation of a glorious mind, "lovely and young for
ever!" We give thanks unto Finden, for having, by the aid
of his burin, spread so true a copy of it over the land.

In looking for a short extract or two, as favourable specimens of the contents of this volume, we were at no loss to fix at once on the two contributions by Motherwell, which are largely steeped in the dew of poetry. We look upon the "May Morn Song" as full of the true inspiration of that sunny hour:

MAY MORN SONG.lt

By W. Motherwell.

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"The grass is wet with shining dews,
Their silver bells hang on each tree,
While opening flower, and bursting bud,
Breathe incense forth unceasingly.
The mavis pipes in greenwood shade,
The throstle glads the spreading thorn,
And cheerily the blithesome lark
Salutes the rosy face of morn.
'Tis early prime,

And, hark! hark! hark!',
His merry chime
Chirrups the lark!

Chirrup! chirrup! he heralds in
The jolly sun with matin hymn.

"Come, come, my love, and May-dews shake
In pailfuls from each drooping bough;
They'll give fresh lustre to the bloom

That breaks upon thy young cheek now,
O'er hill and dale, o'er waste and wood,
Aurora's smiles are streaming free;
With earth it seems brave holiday,
In heaven it looks high jubilee.
And it is right,

For, mark, love, mark!
How, bathed in light,
Chirrups the lark!

Chirrup! chirrup! he upward flies,
Like holy thoughts to cloudless skies.

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"I know thou hast gone where thy forehead is starr'd
With the beauty that dwelt in thy soul,
Where the light of thy loveliness cannot be marr'd,
Nor thy heart be flung back from its goal;
I know thou hast drunk of the Lethe, that flows
Through a land where they do not forget,
That sheds over memory only repose,
And takes from it only regret!

"In thy far away dwelling, wherever it be,
I believe thou hast visions of mine,

And the love that made all things a music to me,
I yet have not learnt to resign;-

In the hush of the night, in the waste of the sea,
Or alone with the breeze on the hill,
I have ever a presence that whispers of thee,
And my spirit lies down and is still!

"Mine eye must be dark that so long has been dimn'd, Ere again it may gaze upon thine,

But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home,
In many a token and sign!

I never look up, with a vow, to the sky,

But a light like thy beauty is there,

And I hear a low murmur, like thine, in reply,
When I pour out my spirit in prayer.

"And though like a mourner that sits by a tomb
I am wrapp'd in a mantle of care,

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The Humourist; a Companion for the Christmas Fireside. By W. H. Harrison, author of "Tales of a Physician," &c. London. R. Ackermann. 1830.

THE principal feature of this new comic Annual is, that it is embellished with fifty engravings, exclusive of numerous vignettes, from designs by the late Mr Rowlandson, an artist of the old school, but no unworthy imitator and successor of Hogarth. His drawing is not quite so sketchy as that of Cruikshank, his outlines are more filled up, and he enters with much force and spirit, without too much exaggeration, into all the peculiarities of English character. Cruikshank forces us to laugh in spite of ourselves; Rowlandson mingles instruction with his merriment, and shows us why we laugh. We have looked over his designs in the present volume with much pleasure; there is a smile and a lesson to be got from each of them.

Mr Harrison has himself contributed all the letterI press, which is rather too much of a good thing. He writes, however, pretty well, both in prose and verse. The following tale is the most favourable specimen we can find of his achievements in the prose department, and is really cleverly told:

GIDEON OWEN, OR TIMING A SHIPWRECK. "Taking care of the main chance, I have elswhere attempted to define the keeping one hand on your own pocket, and the other in your neighbour's-a definition which, whatever it may want of truth in its general application, was in exact accordance with the practice and opinions of Gideon Owen. He was one of those who, very early in life, discovered the inconveniences attendant upon bearing a good character a quality, he would observe, in such universal request, that the possessor is liable to be robbed of it at every turn. Nay, it was even an encumbrance to a man of his peculiar genius, which, when relieved from the restraint, developed itself in a manner which promised to secure him a distinguished place in that calendar which is more remarkable for heroes than saints. He was one of the honourable fraternity of British merchants, though, like a true genius, he altogether rejected those commonplace notions by which that respectable body have the universal reputation of being governed. The halter and the gibbet were the line and rule by which Gideon was regulated in his dealings; and it is admitted that he was exact, to a nicety, in his measures. The accounts of a man who trusted to no one, and whom none ever thought of trusting, must necessarily have been in a nutshell; and it was Owen's boast that his pocket was his counting-house, and his journal and ledger a two-penny memorandum-book.

"For a description of his person-as I cannot hope to rival the pencil of Mr Rowlandson-I must e'en refer the reader to the illustration of this article. Behold him plodding his way through the street, regardless of every external object, but in chuckling self-gratulation on having completed some advantageous and overreaching bargain; observe the pleased, but unpleasing expression, so purely animal, of his countenance; remark, too, his left hand clenched upon his bosom, a sinister attempt to keep down the upbraidings of conscience, or, perhaps, to guard his heart from the possibility of its being assailed by any of those sympathies by which ordinary and grovelling minds are sometimes turned from their purposes. His vigilance was at once useless and misplaced useless, because his heart was as hard as a brickbat, and misplaced, because with him the seat of feeling was the neck.

"One of his latest commercial transactions was of so remarkable a character, that I shall venture to conclude this

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