applause, from all parts of the house. It was evident that I had succeeded in my joke against the public, as well as the great comedian. In one moment Liston lost his balance; he threw himself back, and with his arms extended, seemed the picture of astonishment and despair. A more tragic expression I never witnessed; but I exercised no mercy, no forbearance. In an assumed tone of wounded feeling, I reiterated : 'Ladies and gentlemen,' (another shout of laughter and applause,) 'it is with the greatest concern I feel myself compelled to address you.' As I said this, I threw an eye full of bitter reproach at Liston, amidst still heartier laughter; but in consequence of (long pause) the sudden indisposition of Miss Mathews, Miss Foote has, at a very short notice, undertaken the part of Julia Mannering, in the full confidence that you will extend to her your usual kind indulgence.'

Never was an apology for an indisposition received with such a mingling of laughter and applause. If Liston had had the presence of mind to have cried out 'Prodigious!' he would have saved himself: but no; he was completely at fault, and was not able to raise a smile the whole evening afterward.

DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE,

THE visit of the allied sovereigns to England, taken separately from the novelty of such an event, was productive of a circumstance of great public interest. There was no limit to the number of continental princes in their train, drawn together, as in the days of old, to some far famed regal tournament. Among the rest was Prince LEOPOLD, of SaxeCoburg, a younger brother, with the limited patrimony attendant upon his position, and little more than his rank and sword to look to. The Prince of Orange had been an aspirant for the hand of the Princess Charlotte; but love resists control; and the Prince, it appears, had not been able to inspire the tender passion. Leopold was looked upon with a more favorable eye; and the result was a marriage, not of convenience but affection. Their happiness appeared complete. They always appeared together in public, and in private their seclusion was of a character that must always be of interest. I recollect on one occasion, after her marriage, a burst of feeling so intense on the part of the Princess, that it excited the enthusiastic admiration of the audience. It was at one of the performances of Miss O'Neil, who had the charm of abandonment in her acting that was always sure to carry her audience with her. In the middle of a scene of agonizing distress, the Princess, in a paroxysm of uncontrollable distress, put her hands to her head and rushed from the box, no longer able to check the impetuous torrent of her feelings. The dramatic taste of the family seemed inherent in her; and her feeling for the art was not guided by fashion, but impelled by taste. The people anxiously looked forward for a scion in the direct line, and great was the anxiety at the approaching accouchement of Princess Charlotte; but all their hopes and joys were blasted by one of the greatest national calamities that ever befel our country, and which then appeared irreparable — the death of our future Queen.

We are accustomed in all ages to the homage due to departed greatThe adulation paid to the living representative of royalty expires

ness.

not with the breath, but lingers till the loyal sentiment, which is so deeply rooted in the British nation, has been lulled to repose, and sober reflection is again allowed its sway. The death of this beloved Princess excited a deep and solemn interest. A banished mother, an inflexible father, the unbounded hopes excited by her faultless though brief career, all made a combination of feeling, that gave a shock to the empire. The national distress at so great and unlooked-for a calamity was as a drop of water in the ocean, when compared with the deep anguish and sympathy of all classes, from the highest rank to the meanest subject of the realm. No parent mourned a child, no child a parent, with more poignant and heart-rending feeling, than was displayed by all upon this melancholy occasion. A nation's tears for a departed monarch are honorable to the memory of the deceased; but how high, how noble must be the sentiment that feels alone the equality which Death has conferred, and sheds the bitterest tears for the memory of the woman, and not the adventitious claims of rank! This is no idle, fulsome exaggeration of the feelings occasioned by the death of that much-lamented Princess. It was not the outward garb of mourning that marked the solemnity of the people's feelings; but the heavy heart, the measured step, as, buried in deep reflection, friend passed friend, with scarce a look of recognition beyond the mournful shaking of the head. Prince Leopold was looked upon in the affectionate light of a brother. His rank was forgotten; his high estate lost sight of; and although a foreigner, he was in the land of his fellow-people. The human sympathies of a great country were enlisted in his behalf. The widowed husband, the bereaved father, all threw around him a deep and sincere respect that years might lighten, but never totally destroy. All the theatres were closed upon this melancholy occasion for a week or ten days; and indeed it would have been useless to have opened them with such a strong current of feeling running adverse to every thing in the shape of amusement. This unlooked-for vacation I passed at the countryhouse of a gentleman with whom I had been very intimate, and who, years after, obtained an unfortunate celebrity. I had taken my seat on the box, by the side of the coachman of one of the Kensington stages, to be set down near Lombard-street, where the banking-house of my friend was situated, and in whose carriage I was to be conveyed to his residence in Essex. The coachman was a universal philanthropist. He was not contented with the general distress then prevailing, but selected those also who were compelled individually to suffer from this calamity by the deprivation of a portion of their income. He did not recognize me; but as we passed by Covent-Garden and Drury-Lane theatres, on our way by Catherine-street to the Strand, with a face of grievous melancholy, as if he were himself a sufferer, he turned round, and touching his hat respectfully, said: 'I say, Sir, a short bite for them 'ere theatrical gemmen just now!' As I was on my way to a most hospitable mansion, to partake of every luxury, and most agreeable society, the remark did not fall so keenly upon me as I fear the truth of it did upon many of the subalterns of the profession. In fact the death of any member of the royal family was of serious importance to the theatrical profession, as the theatres were closed by a positive order from the government, from the day of the death until the day after the funeral, a

period of at least three weeks. No remuneration whatever was made; and by the long and melancholy faces of the actors, they had the reputation of indulging a more sterling grief than the great mass of the public. The amiable consideration of the Duke of York, however, lessened our probation considerably; for he personally laid a statement before the Prince Regent, of the difficuties to which the profession were exposed; and he most graciously took it into consideration, notwithstanding the deep distress into which his parental feelings had been plunged by this melancholy calamity.

Othello's occupation having ceased, in consequence of the closing of the theatres, my friend Mr. Richard Jones and myself resolved to pedestrianize to Windsor Castle, to witness the grand pageant of the remains of the Princess reposing in state. Our faces not being unknown to most of the officials, every attention and courtesy were shown to us. We had resolved to make our excursion as simple and rural as possible; so, instead of securing downy beds in either of the lux rious inns of Windsor, we resolved to retire to a small public house in the neighborhood. Our appetites were increased in no moderate degree from the length of the walk; and doubtful whether mine host would be sufficiently provided for our extra cravings, we resolved to provide ourselves with some fine pork-chops which attracted our attention in a butcher's shop. It fell to the lot of Jones to carry them the first half way, including a portion of the town. They were delicately enclosed in a large cabbage-leaf and a 'Windsor Express,' with a deep black border. We had traversed the town without meeting any of our aristocratic friends, and were wending our sinuous path in rather a narrow road, beautifully hedged in, and from which there was no escape, when lo! mounted on his charger, in full uniform, attended by his servant, we encountered Lord ! He immediately stopped, and after the usual salutations, said:

'Well, this is really a fortunate encounter; you must dine at our mess to-day.'

I saw my friend with the cabbage-leaf was exceedingly fidgetty; and as I was most determined not to lose my joke, I said: Why the fact is, my lord, we are most particularly engaged; nor indeed would our travelling wardrobe permit us to join your table; but if you will do us the honor of taking a luncheon with us, (for my friend Mr. Jones, who is the best of caterers and of carriers, has some half dozen pounds of pork-chops carefully concealed behind his back, which he is about having cooked at the nearest public house in the neighborhood.) we shall be delighted.' The best part of the joke, at least as far as his lordship was concerned, was, that he did join us, and a good hearty laugh we had. I was not a person to let slip an opportunity of procuring a ticket of admission for the Castle-yard to witness the funeral. In two days after I returned to Windsor, with an invitation to dine at Eton College, with my friend the Rev. W. Drury, and to sleep at the Castle, in the round Tower, where were situated the apartments of the Governor, the late Earl of Harrington.

Early in the winter of this year, GEORGE THE THIRD breathed his last at Windsor Castle. His was one of the most eventful reigns England ever saw; full of the most portentous events, never-fading

glory, and bitter mistakes. The personal prejudices of this monarch were allowed to interfere with the welfare of the people. His reputed firmness of character was perhaps the worst description of obstinacy; and a blind submission to his views, the never-failing result of all the arts of his ministry. The great hold he had upon the affections of his people arose from the simplicity of his mode of life, and the general affability of his manner; and certainly surer passports could not be found to the heart of JOHN BULL. It is lamentable to reflect upon the career pursued with reference to the great colonies, now the United States. The expenditure of blood and treasure, together with the enormous accumulation of funded debt, was all that England obtained for an inglorious war and an irritating peace. The unnatural warfare between the parent and child, although not a primary cause, hastened the French Revolution, with all its complicated horrors.

MOHAWK :

A COUPLE OF SONNETS

TOUCHING THAT VALLEY.

BY H. W ROCKWELL.

ORISKANY BATTLE GROUND.

Utica, 1844.

1.

HERE marched the troops of Herkimer; between
These swelling ridges, where the thick buckwheat
Grows white and fragrant in the August heat,

They passed into yon perilous ravine,

Where hid by fallen trees and thickets green

The Mohawk lay in ambush. This retreat

Of spreading boughs, where summer winds make sweet
The blackberry darkening 'neath its emerald screen;
These hollows roofed with cedar, where the wren
Chirps undisturbed beside the running brook,
No longer with the cries of war are shook,

Nor shall the quaint inhabitant of this glen,
From his red cottage in the topmost nook,

Hear 'mid these quiet woods such fearful sounds again.

II.

THIS cone of boughs, through which the gold of noon
Drops in large spots o'er beds of wintergreen;
This skirt of wood, whose rustling bushes lean
O'er moss-banks yellow with the flowers of June,
And hollows where the fountain sings its tune

'Mid fern and leaning roses; once between
Its aisles of tamarack showed a fearful scene
Of indiscriminate slaughter. Oh! not soon
Shall the grey-headed settler fail to tell

Of that fierce battle: nor shall he who made
His camp-bed first amid these nooks of shade,

Forget the awe he felt in this wild dell,

Whose thickets, hung with skulls and wampum braid,
Gave token of the deeds which here befel!

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES of Martin ChuZZLEWIT. BY CHARLES DICKENS. In one volume. pp. 250. New-York: J. WINCHESTER, 'New World' Press.

WITH much that is unworthy of Mr. DICKENS; much that we dare say he will live to regret, if he is not already sorry for; Martin Chuzzlewit' contains some of the most striking scenes, and the most vivid portraitures of character, that have ever been sketched by our author's facile and felicitous pen. We pass by altogether his pretended pictures of morals and manners in the United States. They are for the most part caricatures, so gross as to be incapable of exciting any emotion save one in the mind of any American reader. Once or twice, it is true, he touches us in the raw.' We have turned a leaf at two examples, which we will indicate. In a conversation, not altogether voluntary, on board a Mississippi steamer, young Martin CHUZZLEWIT hears much of a certain distinguished politician. 'You air fortunate, Sir,' says his colloquist, 'in having an opportunity of beholding our ELIJAH POGRAM, Sir.' 'Your Elijahpogram!' exclaims the Englishman, thinking the name one word, and a building of some sort. He is introduced to the Major, who is a conceited politician, of the 'secondary formation,' spoilt by the adulation of a partizan circle, and fancying himself a 'terror to monarchical governments.' The scenes which ensue, although distorted, are yet not without some verisimilitude. At length the distinguished Elijahpogram leaves the boat; previous to which we have the following observations. In delivering them, we are told, the speaker emphasized all the small words and syllables; as if he thought the larger parts of speech could be trusted alone, but the little ones required to be constantly looked after:

'WHEN Pogram was about to leave them he grew thoughtful, and after pondering for some time,

took Martin aside.

'We air going to part, Sir,' said Pogram.

'Pray don't distress yourself,' said Martin: we must bear it.'

'It ain't that, Sir,' returned Pogram, 'not at all. But I should wish you to accept a copy of My

oration.'

"Thank you,' said Martin, 'you are very good. I shall be most happy.'

'It ain't quite that, Sir, neither,' resumed Pogram: 'air you bold enough to introduce a copy into your country?'

'Certainly,' said Martin. Why not?

'Its sentiments air strong, Sir,' hinted Program, darkly.

'That makes no difference,' said Martin. I'll take a dozen if you like.'

'No, Sir,' retorted Pogram. 'Not a dozen. That is more than I require. If you are content to run the hazard, Sir, here is one for your Lord Chancellor,' producing it, and one for your principal Secretary of State. I should wish them to see it, Sir, as expressing what My opinions air. That they may not plead ignorance at a future time. But don't get into danger, Sir, on my account!"

There is not the least danger, I assure you,' said Martin. So he put the pamphlets in his pocket, and they parted.'

MARK TAPLEY, an inferior copy of SAM WELLER, has also one or two trenchant thrusts. 'LORD love you, Sir,' he remarks to young CHUZZLEWIT, they are so fond of liberty in the States, that they buy her and sell her, and carry her to market with 'em. They've such a passion for Liberty, that they can't help taking liberties with her.' This he illus