The miscellaneous poems, several of which have been already before the public, in the pages of different periodical works, are distinguished by ease, and delicacy, and tenderness of feeling. Amongst our favourites, are The Painter, Ione, The Dying Minstrel, and The Home of Dreams. We can offer only the following passage from the first-mentioned of these poems. It describes his completion of a half-finished portrait of a lady which he found, and with which he is enamoured:

I painted her with a jessamine braid

Twining around her sunny hair; And a rose that cast a crimson shade,

Upon a breast as ivory fair:

With an eye that flashed its long lashes through,
Like the evening star, half light, half dew:
With a cheek like an opening summer flower,
Ere sullied by a single shower:

and that, the work will be found not only a valuable but an indispensable acquisition to every library.

A volume, superior in style to most of its class, has appeared under the title of "The Posthumous Papers, Facetious and Fanciful, of a Person lately about Town,” consisting of Tales, Sketches, Essays, &c., principally of a humorous description, though interspersed with others of a graver character. Many of these papers had previously delighted us in various periodicals of the day, and we are pleased to see them in their present collected form. The first, and longest tale in the volume, Haroun Schemzeddin, the Lonely Man of Shiraz, was originally published in that respectable work, The Monthly Magazine. It displays much fancy and

With lips like the rose-bud, when lightly the sun imagination, and is pervaded by a spirit

Hath looked its folded leaves upon;
Just parted, as if thence would start

Words that her hearer's soul must bless;
And a smile o'er all, as if her heart

O'erflowed with the light of happiness.

I pictured her in a windowed niche

Of an old hall, and the setting sun Shed all its glory, pure and rich,

On the crimson curtains and sculptured stone; And it tinged her hair with its mellow beam,

Till it looked like the waves of a sunny sea;
And lent her white robe an amber gleam,

And lit her cheek with its radiancy.
I almost worshipped that angel form,
With its glorious eye and its blushes warm;
And many there were who came to see
That lovely picture, who with me
Half joined in the fond idolatry.

of quiet humour, eminently pleasing. A Story of the Old Time in Italy, and the Italian Brothers, are of a higher orderthe former a tale of the deepest interest. The papers, nineteen in number, are agreeably varied; and we cordially recommend the book to our readers, young and old, grave and gay. It is illustrated by numerous clever wood-cuts.

Ushered in by an egotistical, and somewhat affected address to the reader, "Cameleon Sketches, by the Author of a Picturesque Tour round Dorking," exhibit little of the variety which their title led us to anticipate. We have no quick transitions "from grave to gay, from lively to severe;" a universal gloom is We have the pleasure of reporting the spread o'er all: unlike the Cameleon, completion, in two very thick and closely which takes its hues from surrounding obprinted octavo volumes, of "A General jects, no scene, howsoever gay or mirthBiographical Dictionary, containing a Sum-inspiring, ever dissipates the morbid senmary Account of the Lives of Eminent Per-sibility in which the writer has chosen to sons of all Nations, previous to the Present wrap himself-we say chosen, for the feelGeneration ;”—a work, the first volume ofing is affected, not natural. The volume which has been already noticed by LA BELLE ASSEMBLEE,* in terms of highly deserved praise. We repeat our record -that "It is not only upon a larger scale than Watkins's Biographical Dictionary, but, as far as we have been able to examine, it has the additional merit of all the articles having been re-written-of being well digested-of its statements and opinions being at once liberal and impartial;"

* Vide vol. iv. page 224.

contains eight sketches in prose, partly descriptive, partly characteristic, partly moralising, in which the most prominent feature is self-conceit. Nothing can be more untrue to nature than the author's description of his feelings, when five years old, on the death of his younger brother.

Unequal in merit, but containing much that is interesting, some pathos, and no

small share of humour, "Tales and Legends, by the Authors of the Odd Volume,

&c.," form a not invaluable addition to our stock of imaginative literature. The Three Kings, a Scottish story of the time of James V., and the Rescue, from the German, complete the first volume. The second contains, amongst others, Aloyse, a very beautiful and affecting tale, in which Philip V., of Spain, acts a conspicuous part; and the Leper of Aoste, which was translated and published separately a few years since, and was favourably noticed in LA BELLE ASSEMBLEE.* The Old Block of Wood, and the Two Students of St. Andrew's, occupy the third volume. Of these last, the scene is laid in Scotland: the former, a pathetic tale of humble life; the latter, humorous, and displaying considerable skill in the delineation of character. The nature of the work precludes extract; but we recommend it to our readers as affording much variety of amusement.

the shelter of the grave. Devotedly attached to his country, maddened with rage against its oppressors, the curse of never-ending life clinging to him, believing himself to be the cause of all the ills by which his country, family, and connexions are visited, unable to reveal his dreadful destiny, and overwhelmed by a sense of guilt, he recklessly devotes himself to the deliverance of Judea and the destruction of the Romans. It would be impossible here, were we desirous of so doing, to give even an outline of the story, so numerous, so complicated are the incidents, so sudden, so rapid are the changes, so almost super-human are many of the achievements. Descriptions the most gorgeous and sublime, scenes of incomprehensible wildness, grandeur, and beauty, and others of the deepest, the most heart-rending pathos, abound throughout the work. Earth and air, sea and sky, furnish forth the most appalling spectacle; the human mind, in all its heights of passion, rage, despair, even in its wildest visions of insanity, is pourtrayed with a hand of power, with the skill of a master. A domestic tale of much interest gives relief to scenes of strife and warfare, to struggles of the patriot, and the suffer

with the destruction of the temple by fire, the conflagration of the Holy of Holies, on the threshold of which Salathiel falls, rejoicing that death was then inevitable, when he once more heard the words of terror "Tarry thou till I come."-It is hardly necessary to add, that these volumes, throughout, are powerfully, beautifully written, every page, every line, attesting the poet in all his fire, in all his grandeur, and in all his sublimity.

Of the almost unprecedented number of works of fiction which have issued from the press during the present season -works, many of them, of the first order of excellence-none is more calculated to make a lasting impression on the public | mind than "Salathiel, a Tale of the Past, the Present, and the Future," from the vigorous and glowing pen, as it is under-ings of the oppressed. The work closes stood, of the Rev. George Croly, A.M. The volumes before us--which we shall notice more at length next month, when we mean to find a suitable niche for their reverend and learned author amongst our Contemporary Poets and Writers of Fiction-embrace only the first of these periods, and we anticipate with pleasure the completion of the design. The hero is the Wandering Jew, Salathiel, a priest, a prince of the tribe of Naphtali-the || scene principally Jerusalem and Romethe time the period between the Crucifixion and the final destruction of the temple by Titus. Foremost in urging the death of Christ, in accumulating wrongs and injuries upon the victim, the work opens with the pronounced sentence of "Tarry thou till I come;" a sentence which carries with it, to Salathiel, the conviction, that he was never to know

* Vide vol. i. page 81. The translation referred to was, if we mistake not, by the late Helen Maria Williams.

Amusement, though not of the first order, may be derived from the perusal of "Penelope, or Love's Labour Lost, a Novel, in three Volumes, by the author of 'Truckleborough Hall."" With a most inartificial plot, meagreness of incident, and paucity of character, sufficient interest is maintained to excite the attention of the reader throughout these volumes, which, abounding with bad taste, ill-nature, and flippancy, display, nevertheless, much shrewdness of remark, keenness of satire, and no slight knowledge of the darker side of human nature. The bona fide hero

of the tale is a Lord Spoonbill, only son of the pompous and empty-headed Earl of Smatterton. Smitten by the charms of our heroine, Penelope Primrose, whose heart and hand are already engaged, of shallow intellect, and destitute of the courage and spirit to act the part of the daring open villain, he endeavours, by the interception of letters, &c., to estrange her affections from Robert Darnley, the object of her choice. The young lady, by the death of her uncle, and the absence of her father, is left in somewhat destitute circumstances, and is induced, contrary to her inclinations, to accept the patronage of the Countess of Smatterton, under whose auspices she is to make her début as a public singer. Before, however, the degrading exhibition is made, her father, in possession of immense wealth, returns, and rescues his daughter from her humiliating station. Lord Spoonbill still continues his nefarious schemes, and for some time successfully. At length, through the treachery and cowardice of his agent, the village postboy, the truth is brought to light. He next employs a parasitical friend, Colonel Crop, to carry off Penelope from her father's house. The Colonel mistakes his directions, forgets her name, and finally bears off in triumph another lady. Mutual suprise and explanation ensue; the lady is rescued, his Lordship receives a sound horsewhipping; and, all difficulties having been obviated, Penelope and Robert Darnley are united. The style is lively, caustic-occasionally flippant and vulgar. The work, however, is amusing, and will attract a fair portion of popularity. Once for all, we enter our decided protest against characteristic names in a novel in nothing but broad farce are they to be tolerated: they not only excite disgust, but tend to destroy the illusion of the tale.-The author of Penelope possesses talent equal to the production of a work infinitely superior.

rasan," in three volumes, written, it is presumed, with the view of introducing the author's intimate knowledge of eastern life and manners, as they present themselves in cities, and amongst the wandering and warlike tribes of the deserts, offers, through a spirited and striking picture, much information of utility and worth. The scene lies chiefly in Persia, and the events are supposed to occur during the life of the celebrated Nader Shah, of Persia, upon the delineation of whose character much pains has been bestowed. The hero, Ismael Khan, son of the chief of a Turkish tribe, is carried off, almost in infancy, by a tribe of Toorkomans; all his family are murdered; and their dwelling is plundered and laid in ruins. In the house of his captor, Omer Khan, Ismael is treated rather as a child than as a slave, and he becomes the sworn brother and friend of his son, Selim. An attachment arises between Ismael and Shireen, the sister of Selim, on the discovery of which by her family, he is obliged to seek safety in flight. In this object, he is generously assisted by Selim, who pledges himself to protect Shireen from the wrath of her father, Omer Khan. In his flight, Ismael meets Ibrahim, the brother of Nader Shah. Ibrahim had been the friend of his father, and he promises to introduce him to Nader, and to watch over his fortunes. He rises high in favour, encounters numerous vicissitudes of life, is involved in some most revolting and tragic scenes in the harem of a hypocritical priest, and is finally instrumental in saving the life of Selim, his early friend, who had been sentenced to death, as a traitor, by Nader Shah. Selim returns to his desert life, and Ismael, rich in the gifts of fortune and power, is united to his beloved Shireen, An episodical story, of intense interest, but having little connexion with that of the Kuzzilbesh, occupies nearly the whole of the second, and a part of the third volume. Vivid sketches of character«The word Kuzzilbash, which is Turkish, tribes wore a red cap as a distinguishing mark, signifies Red-head,' and was an appellation which afterwards became the military head-dress originally given by Shah Ismael the First to of the Persian troops-hence, the term Kuzzilseven tribes which were united and firmly bound bash is used to express a Persian soldier, and to defend their king and the Sheah faith against || often, particularly among the Toorkomans and all enemies and aggressors.-(Vide Malcolm's || Oozbecks, is applied as a national designation to History of Persia, vol. i. page 502). These the people in general."

"The Kuzzilbash," ""* a Tale of Kho

fate of Leslie, by the fate of Agnes, is an awful one; but we could wish it to be

spirited delineations of natural scenery, manners and customs-distinguish these volumes; the incidents of which, though || accomplished by other means than that

occasionally forced and improbable, are, many of them, deeply affecting, from their simplicity. Super-human agency is resorted to, for the production of results which require no such aid; but the work is one of great merit, and cannot fail of becoming popular.

NEW MUSIC.

VOCAL.

"See yonder Rose," a Duet, for two Soprani, by F. W. Crouch.

Mr. Crouch's duet is a prettyish passable sort of movement in time, without either blemishes or beauties worth noticing, and without one pretension to originality.

of the marriage of Agnes with Sir Robert Leslie, after the untimely death of her husband. It would have been a compromise of her dignity, under any circumstances, to marry a man by whom she had been so grossly, so unpardonably insulted. The lesson, as we have said, is A more striking production of its class an awful one; for more even than poetical than "The Roué," a novel in three vo- justice is inflicted; the innocent, as well lumes, we have not lately seen. With as the guilty, are made to suffer-are occasional marks of haste in composition offered up as victims to appease the ofwith here and there a slight deviation || fended majesty of virtue. Let woman from purity of taste—it is very elegantly tremble at the appalling fate of Agnes; written: it displays great pathos-much || let not man-the heartless Leslies of their warmth, depth, and vividness of colour- || species-hope, by superior artifice, or ing. Mr. Beazley, the architect of the more favouring fortune, to escape the English Opera House, and the literary deep, and deeply deserved punishment of parent of several dramatic pieces, is re- the Roué. ported to be its author. As a writer, The Roué will unquestionably add to his fame. Such a work could have been produced only by a man of talent-by one who has studied men and manners-by one who has analysed virtue and vice. The idea of The Roué was evidently suggested by the Lovelace of Richardson. Unlike Richardson's hero, however, Sir Robert Leslie employs all his stratagems-his sappings and minings-to seduce the affections of a married woman-of the lovely, the fascinating, the eminently virtuous Agnes, the wife of his friend, the Hon. Mr. Trevor. The heart of man, we are told, from the highest authority, is vile, and desperately wicked. For the honour of our species, however-perhaps from a feeling of self-love and self-respect -we know not how to persuade ourselves that a creature so heartless, so utterly worthless as Mr. Beazley's Roué, can possibly exist. We hope not. At all events, he must be a rara avis. A hundred sanguinary ferocious villains might more easily be detected, traced, and dragged from their lairs, than a single Roué. We almost doubt, too, whether so entire a sot as Trevor could be found-a creature so blind, so insensible to the charms, the attractions, the virtues of such a woman as Agnes. For the sake of effect, however, for the sake of moral, all this heightening may be allowable. The lesson read by the fate of Trevor, by the

Duet between Prince Charles and Lady
Eleanor Wemyss. The Words by Miss
A. M. Porter, the Music arranged and
harmonized by John Hewitt.

It appears by a short notice on the title-page of this duet, that Prince Charles (whom it is no longer the fashion to call The Pretender!) and Lady Eleanor Wemyss, danced to this tune at the last ball at which he was present at Holyrood Palace, in the year that was named the rebellion of 1745; therefore it is an old, but not less beautiful Scottish air, which the English musician has put into its present interesting garb. The air is perfectly national, but it is understood to be, almost, only orally known; and it is likely the melancholy circumstance of its having been "the last danced" (according to Miss A. M. Porter's account) "by that unfortunate Prince, may have caused it to be laid aside in all scenes of Scottish festivity afterwards. There is a sadness in the traditionary air, that bears up the