till their summits became, as it were, the base of the tender grey streak which marked the distant outline of the Andes; whilst on the left the country was a series of table-lands and valleys, formed by wide and bold undulations, and terminating with lofty mountains, clad with foliage, and looking like gigantic warriors upon the pygmy multitudes by which they were surrounded. The sight was so beautiful and replete with interest, that I had stopped behind to enjoy the contemplation of it alone and at leisure. As I was taking up my reins to continue my route, I saw a fawn

sporting on a rising ground within ten yards of me. vanced, stopped short, frisked, then stopIt stamped its foot, adped short again, and stared at me. I had, mechanically, drawn one of my pistols from the holsters, and had cocked it whilst I was witnessing these manœuvres. The little animal still stood staring at me with its large black eyes, innocent and unsuspecting, and its little black glossy nose and chin perked out in impudent defiance. It stamped its foot again, as offering wager of battle, gave another frisk, and darted off.”

THE PERSIAN LADY TO HER LOVER;

suggested by an Apophthegm in Malcolm's History of Persia.

THY words have often cheer'd my soul,
When nothing else could charm ;

I felt, beneath thy dear control,
Secure from ev'ry harm.

Like sunbeams in the hour of spring,
Awaking torpid flow'rs,

Thy language to my heart could bring
Revivifying pow'rs.

A FAREWELL ADDRESS TO A LADY,

by Mr. John Heneage Jesse.

LADY, forgive the useless sigh,
Forgive the light and aimless song,
Which swears that thine's the brightest eye
That ever beam'd in beauty's throng.

Thou know'st not, and thou canst not know,
From whom this idle strain proceeds;
The heart from which its numbers flow,
In silence loves, in silence bleeds.

Still must I be content to meet,
And gaze upon thee in the dance,
Where glitt'ring forms, with fairy feet,
Like moonbeams on the water glance.

J. M. LAGEY.

Yet when I gaz'd upon thy face,
And met thy mildly-beaming eye,
Methought therein mine own could trace
A glance of speechless sympathy.

Perchance 'twas vain-and yet that look,
So soft, so beautifully kind,

Hath taught my aching heart to brook
Th' unfeeling coldness of mankind.

Lady! farewell-in happier days

My heart may dare to breathe its sighs; Till then-forgive these useless lays; Forget-do all things but despise.

LESSONS DRAWN FROM LIFE AND NATURE,

by Mary Anne Browne.

LET us go to the hall, where the red wine flows,
And roses and myrtles are gaily wreath'd;
Where many a cheek with its deep joy glows,
And the sweet, sweet music of lutes, is breath'd.
Ere morning comes, the scene will be fled;
Faded will be the dream of bliss;

The song will be hush'd, and the roses dead :
Is there nought to be learn'd by this?

Let us go to the shore, where the sea-shells lie,
And the sand with weeds and wrecks is strown;

Where over the rocks the cold waves fly,
And make their hollow and sullen moan.

Those desolate things were cast away

From the false breast of the raging seas;
And there they are sadly left to decay:
Is there not a lesson in these?

Let us go to the wood, where the hawthorn blows,
When its leaves in the soft spring-time are green;
When its mantle around it the woodbine throws,
And the pearly flow'rets between :
peep

Oh, we shall find a moral in them,

Thus with the leaves deceitfully twined, Decking awhile the thorny stem,

Yet dropping off with the first rude wind!

Let us go to the fields, when the storm is o'er,
And the rain-drops sparkle like stars at eve;
When the thunder peal is heard no more,
And the ocean's bosom hath ceased to heave;

Then we shall see the rain-bow bright,

From the gloomy clouds and the sunshine wrought,

Shedding on all things its colored light;

Something, surely, by this is taught.

THE FOND REMEMBRANCE;

or Verses written in the name of a young Lady, by the hon. Mr. Phipps.

Yes, all is past! I saw him go,

His plume was flutt'ring in the breeze,

The early morning's ruddy glow

Was glancing through the waving trees.

The mottled light that shone and danced
Upon his arms and helmet bright,
Was like the flitting joy that glanced
O'er my short moments of delight.

His step was firm, his heart was gay;
I saw him on his war-horse spring;
I heard him carol on his way ;—
Alas, alas! I could not sing.

And why should man thus flutter round
The downy nest where Love is born,
And still be free, whilst we are bound
By chains his heart has never worn?

He loved, as well as man can love,

But other feelings shared his heart,
Whilst all the griefs my breast that move,
No thought except of him impart.

The foam that fringes stormy seas

A moment glitters and is nought;
The gossamer that braves the breeze,
And by some idle flower is caught ;

The eider-down that wings its flight,
And floats in wayward course through air,
A summer cloud-say, what so light?
What can with man's light love compare?

I think he loved me; but, when fame
Had lit her altar in his breast,

The god that could a lion tame,

His weakness over man confess'd.

Away, away! where falchions flash,
And eyes of fury glare around,
Where fiercest hands and spirits rash
Are met, my hero shall be found.

The ray that glances on thy blade

Shall light the tear-drop in mine eye;
The breeze in which thy pennon play'd
Was freighted with thy Laura's sigh.

VOL. X.

THE SONG OF TRIUMPH.

Says O'Connell to Lawless and Sheil,
"How finely we've manag'd our cause!
We've frighten'd old Arthur and Peel;
We've scouted the harassing laws.

2 K

Our French foes the duke kept at bay;

But, dreading a conflict at home,
He wisely resolv'd to give way

To the friends of the bishop of Rome.

Thus far with success we are bless'd :
There's an end of the Orange-men's reign:
Let us now, for a time, be at rest:

When we want more, we'll threaten again.”

C. C.

THE TREE OF LIBERTY,

by the Authoress of the novel of the Protestant.

In the isle of our fathers long flourish'd thy tree,
O Liberty! planted in gore,

When the sword of the Briton proclaim'd he was free,
As the wild waves that visit his shore.

And as slowly it grew, with firm hand and bold breast,
Their sons in mail'd bands round it stood;

They repell'd the base foe that would fell its proud crest,
And water'd its root with their blood;

And the lion of England, to guard it with care,
That no foe should its precincts invade,
Lay stretch'd at its foot, for he made it his lair,
As the children slept under its shade.

But our fathers are gone, and e'en that tree will fall,
If the spirit that nursed it be fled :

On their tombs, on their mem'ry, aloud let us call,
As the trump that shall waken the dead.

Oh call back their spirits, in us let them rise,
As we swear freedom's tree to maintain :

Though storms rive its trunk, and though wither'd it lies,
From our blood it shall spring up again.

HINTS CONNECTED WITH THE ART OF

PAINTING.

MR. PHILIPS, the academician, has lately illustrated this art in a series of lectures, which were applauded both by artists and amateurs. Without going through the course, we shall merely take notice of the most striking parts of his concluding lecture.

He suggested the expediency of applying more definite significations to the terms used in discoursing on works of art. He instanced, as most liable to be confounded, the words hue, tone, tint, and contrast. Hue, he said, ought to be considered as the distinction of colors among

themselves; tint is expressive of different gradations in the same color; and tone is the degree of illumination or shade under which all the colors are wrought in one picture. Contrast, he observed, is used indiscriminately to signify the discordance of color, and also the juxta-position of varied colors producing an harmonious effect. He proposed that the use of the term should be restricted to the former case, without, however, taking the word in a bad sense, or concluding that whatever is strong in contrast is faulty; and, in the latter case, the term harmony appeared to him to be preferable.

In treating of chiaro-scuro, he pointed out the opposite means by which nature