acquainted with the circumstance. As the doctor was aware that neither ridicule nor argument would have any avail, he endeavoured to rouse the dormant faculties of his pupil's mind, by strong stimulative medicines, and a blister applied to his person. To his astonishment, neither one nor the other had any more effect, than if they had been applied on a corpse. The young man evidently grew worse, and as the time wore away, death seemed approaching with rapid strides. His skin bore the appearance of approaching dissolution. His eyes had already become glazed and fixed; and above all, that sure prognosticator of death, a coldness in the extremities, displayed itself. The professor saw the alarming situation of his patient, and now feared the worst. He then begged him to explain the cause of this mystery, which after some persuasion he did, by affirming, that on the evening preceding, a figure in white appeared to him, saying "To-morrow, at this time, thou shalt die." It immediately occurred to this celebrated man, that if he could only prolong his life beyond that time, he might save it altogether. He therefore asked him if he was willing to take a composing draught; the young man faintly replied, that he could have no objection, although he was confident all earthly means would be ineffectual, as he was under the sway of a supernatural power. The doctor then administered a large dose of opium, which threw the patient into a sound sleep, and which he continued in beyond the fatal hour. Upon a clock striking he awoke, and immediately inquiring the time, found he had lived several hours beyond the time the airy messenger had prophesied. He was then firmly convinced of its fallacy, acknowledged his folly, joined his companions, and soon recovered his health and spirits. B. LOVE'S IMMORTALITY. But love shall live and live for ever, And chance and change shall reach it never.-HARRY NEALE. THE lowing of the herds, The falling of the showers, The melody of birds, The blossoming of flowers, The foaming of the floods, The murmurs of the stream, The shadiness of woods, Shall vanish like a dream. Youth, loveliness, and health, But faithful love shall rise Æ. CITY GALA-EASTER MONDAY. NINE P. M. Having bedecked ourselves in holiday trim, Jack Ward, my college croney and I, sallied out of chambers for the Mansion House ball. City in high bustle-hair-dressers positively besieged-hackneycoaches not to be had at any price; we heard a good deal of altercation in Cheapside between Jarvis and porters, despatched from Friday Street and Old Change. The former declared he " vood n't back down no nasty narrur streets for nobody." Arrived at the Mansion House-gates bolted -a crowd of citizens waiting-found them discussing the privileges of the city, and power of its chief magistrate-heard a little man with mulberry nose declare the King couldn't visit the city, unless the Lord Mayor invited him. I vowed he had as good right there as any other manfound half a dozen opera hats pointed fiercely in my face, and was called upon to explain-thought it time to recant; I declared the King had no more business in the city than the Dey of Algiers! Ten o'clock struck, and the gates were thrown open;-a huge rush for standing space in the ball room. Several ladies' head-dresses carried away by the opera hats of two or three beaux, in consequence of the corners projecting over each shoulder, after the style of my Lord's footmen; a constable succeeded in placing them in a proper position, pointing fore and aft. Walked up stairs to the saloon-saw a little old fellow take his post at the door, bowing very profoundly to every male visitor-found it was Type, candidate for the office of city-printer-couldn't resist a joke-saw a footman enter the room-told Type, Alderman Grabble had passed him unnoticed; I thought he would leap out of his skin-stepped on a lady's toe in his hurry to reach the Alderman-took the servant's hand, and bowing a thousand apologies exclaimed, "Your very humble servant to command Mr. Alderman Grabble,"-set the whole company in a roar, and thought I should have burst. I retired to the other end of the room. Dancing commenced; half a dozen capering quadrilles for the amusement of the company. Walked through the adjoining room, and saw old Gingham, the Manchester warehouseman, playing whist; introduced him to my friend: he asked Jack if there were any "good men" at Cambridge, as he should send Tom Turpin, his rider, to "take orders." Jack inquired what college? I whispered the Commercial Travellers' Society; Jack took the hint, and we gave Gingham the cut. In our hurry, Jack had the mishap to step on a flounced tail; very much enraged a tall thin gallant with spectacles-found a crowd collecting round us—Jack began to quote Latin-citizens looked blank. We thought it prudent to retreat; found ourselves in a lofty apartment, amidst showers of loaves and sweetmeats -thought of city hospitality. Heard Ned Smith and Tom Stanley, my attorney's clerks, agree to "cast off the gentleman," and scramble with the mob. Saw Mordaunt, the broker, in one corner engaged in writing— peeped slyly over his shoulder, and espied in his pocket ledger, "Messrs. Ald. Wiggin and Co. Walbrook, 200 barr: Russ: tallow, ex Apollo;" said I had just heard Mr. Deputy Daw inquire for him, and he went off like a shot. Thought we had better move down stairs; met Banter, the auctioneer he inquired how things were going off; told him the Lord Mayor had decided on putting the City giants up for sale-thought I should split my sides to see him scamper up stairs to engage the job. We resolved to be off; called for our beavers, and were offered two clerical We hats, half full of powder-servants quite sure they belonged to us. demurred until we saw old Mordaunt descending the stairs, when we mounted our three-cornered coverings and brushed; took a coach in Cheapside, and laughed heartily at one another. QUIZ. TO THE GREEKS. I. ARISE to the strife of the sword! II. Long ages of sorrow and shame Have roll'd o'er the land of your birth! Though once without peer in the proud scroll of Fame, The wrongs which your fathers have borne, The wrongs which your children must bear; Oh! your souls are subdued by the bonds ye have worn, III. The lion is tame and debased While chain'd in the dwellings of men, Yet send the wood-king to his own native waste, And his fury will waken again; And thus, though degraded are ye, The sway of your tyrants but spurn, And the faith and the courage that dwell with the free IV. Then awake to the strife of the sword! Nor e'er be one brand to its scabbard restored, Oh think on your bondage so heavy and keen— SACRED MELÓDIES, preceded by an ADMONITORY APPEAL to the RIGHT HON. LORD BYRON; with other small Poems, by Mrs. I. H. R. Mott. London. 8vo. Francis Westley. 1824. We always were admirers of " the towering effulgency" of Lord Byron's mind, and of that genius which could soar into the "Heaven of Heavens" for subjects for decantation; but we have often laid our “ harp upon the willow" and wept, after hearing its sound vibrate music, adapted to his Lordship's words, and repeatedly, when the harmony of his metre, beauty of his poetry, and energy of his language, have rapt our souls in a momentary elysium, we have literally seceded from the enjoyment of this rapture, and wept at the bitter reflection, that talents of the most exalted kind, ideas of the highest order, and an imagination that one might have thought belonged to other spheres, should become so debased and depraved, as to ramble with infinite pleasure in scenes the most voluptuous, in paths the most seductive, and actions the most detestable and revolting. Mrs. Mott most nobly appeals to his Lordship's honourable feelings, in the spirit of a tender "mother beloved;" beseeches him to leave the presentation "ad libitum" to the young and inexperienced of the " poisoned chalice of his intellectual faculties," and with all "imaginable beseechments," that a female only could dictate, invites him to appear in a more pure and innocent, but not less fascinating character. Come forth, in unshaded array, And shew to the world what thy Maker designed Yes, be THOU as daring on Virtue's right side, And Mrs. Mott's reference to the daughter of Lord Byron is most truly affecting : Oh think of thy daughter! If she live to rise We believe this is the first appeal on the principle of religion, from a lady, and a mother, that has been addressed to the noble Lord. We sincerely hope it may be effective. But we fear that he who resists and retorts against the many " lashes,"" sarcasms," and "criticisms," from higher and more authoritative quarters, will not easily bend to the more mild solicitation of a female petitioner. Although instances there are where the soft soothing rhetoric, the tender cravings, the earnest beseechings, of a lovely female, have been more influential, than the stern energy of man. Mrs. Mott's "Sacred Melodies" possess some symphony, poetry, and beauty, and one of our daughters has this moment ceased playing the air "Jephthah's Daughter," on a harp now in our study. Mrs. Mott's metre accords with the music, but we feel it requires more vigour and poetic fire. Among the shorter Poems, which conclude the volume, the following we think is pretty : ELI! ELAH!* Air "Where shall the lover rest?" Where is the foeman's friend? Such a pure stream of love, Death's stinging terror. VALENS ACIDALIUS. That ACIDALIUS was born at Witstock, in Brandenburg, and flourished towards the end of the sixteenth century. He would, in all probability, have been one of the greatest critics of modern times, had he lived-he died in his twenty-ninth year-to perfect those splendid talents with which he was endowed. He wrote a commentary on Quintus Curtius, also notes on Tacitus, on the Twelve Panegyrics; besides speeches, letters, and poems. His poetical pieces are inserted in the Delicia of the German poets, and consist of epic verses, odes, and epigrams. A little piece, printed in 1595, under the title of Mulieres non esse homines, women were not of the human species,' was falsely ascribed to him. But the fact was, that Acidalius happening to meet with the manuscript, and thinking it very whimsical, transcribed it, aud gave it to a bookseller, who printed it. The publication gave such general offence, that the publisher was seized, and to save himself, discovered the person who had sent him the manuscript; upon which a terrible outcry was raised against Acidalius. Soon after, he went to dine at a friend's house, where there happened to be several ladies at table; they, supposing him to be the author, viewed him with so much indignation, that they threatened to throw their plates at his head. Acidalius, however, was fortunate enough to divert their wrath, by ingeniously saying, that in his opinion the author of the piece was a very judicious person, since the ladies certainly belonged more to the species of angels than of men. * Eli the offering or lifting up. Elah, the curse. |