he went he carried with him such domestic feelings, that he found no difficulty in creating a home for himself which, whatever might be its discomforts and deficiencies, answered all the demands of his own easy and contented disposition. Of all the English writers there is not one who will bear comparison with Goldsmith for natural sentiments, and elegance of diction. The felicitous simplicity of his language has always been regarded as a model of purity. His taste was unexceptionable and his style may be recommended as the best study within the whole range of our literature. Johnson, we are aware, recommends Addison to the attention of people who are anxious to attain a correct and chaste manner; but there can be no hesitation at this distance of time in dissenting from an opinion which was delivered while Goldsmith was yet living, and before he had established his reputation. In some respects there was a striking similarity between Goldsmith and Franklin: the same good sense, just views, and perspicuity of expression distinguished them both; but in humour, in critical penetration, and in refinement, Goldsmith was infinitely his superior. A resemblance, too, may be found in Rousseau, some of whose writings are in the last degree eloquent, simple, and polished. But the hand of the cunning artist, notwithstanding all his genius, frequently appears, and even his fluency betrays the toil by which it was produced. It is well known that Rousseau composed with great pain and difficulty, although language seems to have flowed in rich streams from his pen; while Johnson, whose essays are so extravagantly elaborated, worked with the utmost rapidity. Goldsmith, who combined the highest excellencies, rarely blotted his manuscripts, and was seldom known to make any alterations. His style seems to have been early formed, and to have caused him no trouble afterwards. His familiar letters, written to his friends during his youth, exhibit evidences of the same clear spirit, and inartificial modes of description, that have conferred immortality upon his works, One important illustration of the way to literary fame is furnished by his laboursthat those who write for perpetuity, and who touch the kernel of truth, draw from their own experience of life, and not from the reflections of the world in books. His productions are crowded with such numerous instances of this fact, that it is unnecessary to sustain the assertion by examples. There is hardly a striking passage in his comedies, or his tales, that is not founded upon some events that occurred to himself, or within his own knowledge ; and even in his Animated Nature, with the pages of Buffon spread out before him, he frequently refers to observations he had made upon natural phenomena during his boyhood. The Adventures of Tony Lumpkin and Mrs. Hardcastle had their origin in an escapade of his early years. - the whole story of George Primrose, and of the Strolling Player, even to the minute incidents of the flute, the drudgeries of the usher, and Bishop Jewell's Staff, were derived from circumstances that occurred to himself: but we might pursue the enumeration through an hundred places that must be as familiar to the reader as "household words." It is pleasurable to find that such a writer has been again brought before the public by the indefatigable exertions of so industrious a biographer as Mr. Prior; for although the world needed no hint to recur to this "well of English undefiled," the discovery and restoration of many occasional papers not hitherto known to be his, will give an increased zest to the imperishable popularity of his name. A REASON FOR REFUSING TO INSERT A CRITIQUE. WHEN you write for my magazine But an attempt that name to screen Z. THE WONDERFUL MYSTERY OF THE SPANISH SENORA. I. THERE hath happened of late in the city of London A mystery, whose solving is still in futuro ; By the which a fair Princess of Spain was near undone, By her name we may deem her distinguished of ladies, And located in London-what street is not told us : II. Not alone did this lady go forth-I remind you; For she then had a servant, though since she hath lost her, A maid who was christened Francisca D'Acosta ; Who knew her without even asking "Who is it?” And he galloped away with the Spanish Señora. III. She arrived at the number, and asked for the lady The doors, without giving her time for reflection, What they next meant to do with the Spanish Señora. IV. When they got her up stairs to the spot which they wanted, For with horror I tell it, you'll have to endure now A deed of the Devil,—dark, dread, and dismaying; And I'm farthest from wishing to see, I am sure now, Your flesh creep-back cold—and your hair hérissé-ing : VOL. X.-NO. II.-FEBRUARY 1837. I Then brace up your nerves to their strongest position, That astonished the eyes of the Spanish Señora. V. The room, which with eye of a builder she measured, Green and white, and two globes, she descried in a twinkling ; The walls of the chamber were covered with sable, Twelve candles were burning, with green and black shaded, Dingy black was the cloth that enshrouded the table, Round which, in black tunics, twelve men were paraded, With black four-cornered caps, from which black tassels pended, Excepting the president learned, who wore a Thin trimming of white-all, with emphasis splendid, VI. Then greeted her eyes papers, books, crucifixes, Sought to make her take oath; but the thing was a failure. The twelve with one voice cried aloud "Que muera." "She is ready to die," she replied, “if you will her, At once-therefore trouble don't take any more aBout making her swear; but mind this, if you kill her, Her friends will avenge the Castilian Señora!" VII. Now it presently seemed that the twelve were offended So the president told her, by infamous measures, In a speech which the twelve cruel men interlarded With "Kill her for keeping the king from his treasures!" They had summoned her, therefore, to this Inquisition— The emblems of terror and death were before her And unless she recanted before she levanted, They would soon put an end to the Spanish Señora. VIII. But finding their threat no effect had upon her, To the whole of the twelve, or the president per se, (Such concealment alone proved it wasn't a fair case) And two men, while the others were staring on vapidly, Led her upwards and downwards again on the staircase; Then quick as a bold barber shaves off a whisker, They gave her a push as if meaning to floor her, And the cabman outside (with D'Acosta Francisca) Again drove away with the Spanish Señora. IX. She went to Lord Russell-she went to Sir Freddy too, A most anxious excitement pervades Broad-street Buildings, Disclose all the rooms from their boards to their gildings. The black chamber had vanished—with living and dead-away; New novel to write of the Spanish Señora. X. P. S.-Another episode of the mysterious story: The young grisette has come to light before Sir Frederick Roe now, And in the Bow-street mansion, where he sits in all his glory, She has sworn that her Señora's Inquisition is no go now! O! wicked young Francisca, to dispel such an illusion, Which the magistrates deceived, and Lord Russell too was puzzling; A maze-a Cretan labyrinth of perpetual delusion A point on which an Alderman might meditate while guzzling! Which her maid with many lies has flung around her and before her, 6 MR. SNIFFTON SNEALY, THE NOTICED. (Concluded from our last.) "Lucy cannot doubt that her partiality towards me is returned," soliloquized our self-sufficient little gentleman; "she must have perceived it by my words, looks, and actions. Yet I confess her manner sometimes perplexes me, particularly when she opens her large dark eyes so wide, as if to say, My dear Sniffton! don't look at me so earnestly.' It must be mere modesty. She would have it appear that she hath not unsought been won.' Poor girl! I'm sorry for her! I can't conceive how it is that she has remained so long single. Too particular, no doubt. Heigho!" and throwing his head back, and joining his hands behind him, he would generally conclude by strutting to and fro in the room, after the fashion of a bantam. At length, when he had one morning wound up his courage for the hundredth time, and had, as he conceived, said something strikingly sentimental, and looked, as he doubted not, most languishly killing, Lucy sighed, and observed, “A friend on whom one could implicitly rely would be indeed invaluable; but- -would that I had such a one!" 66 "My dear, good young lady!" exclaimed Mr. Snealy, Can you doubt? Have not my eyes, my actions, my all, told you that I am entirely yours? Yes, from the first moment, my body, soul, all! For, oh! most adorable of your sex!" and he was about to go upon his knees, and commence the long-deferred speech, when the lady suddenly caught his arm, and held him firmly in his seat, as she said— "I've heard long professions before, and don't pay much attention to them. I prefer judging by people's conduct. So, don't put yourself into a flurry. I can guess what you meant to say; but no protestationsat least, not at present." Here she released his arm, and added, with a smile, "There will be time enough for all that sort of thing, and everything 66 "Did you ever ride after a fox, Snealy?" inquired the old baronet, a few days after. Why, not exactly," replied our hero. "That's as much as to say, your horse left you behind," observed Sir Charles, smiling; “well, that's no uncommon case with a dandy." Here Lucy, observing the colour rising in her humble servant's face, put her finger on her lips, and looked at him, as he thought, imploringly; so he swallowed the offensive epithet, and, for her dear sake, digested "the venom of his spleen," and kept a dignified silence. But, as their intimacy increased, his amour propre was frequently more severely wounded by the baronet's extreme bluntness of speech. Nevertheless, he resolved to endure patiently till the prize was secured, "and then," said he, "when we are married, I really think I shall cut the old gentleman, for his manners are far too coarse and brusque for a person of my refined ideas and elegant habits." Thus passed away the London winter, with all its glittering, glaring pleasures and frivolities; and in the month of July, the family at Glenfield Hall consisted of Sir Charles, Lucy, and Mr. Sniffton Snealy, as the Major had gone to join his regiment in the Peninsula. Alas for human nature! Notwithstanding their friendship, our aspiring hero, as he beheld the stately old mansion, with its park and ample domains, could not avoid tracing what must be the result, if the gallant soldier should happen to fall in some sanguinary engagement. His Lucy would then be the heiress, and old baronetcies were not unfrequently transferred. To be Sir Sniffton Snealy Glenfield, Baronet, would, indeed, be something! And he wrote the name upon a card, to see how it would look. Then he sighed, and then girded himself up into the resolution of coming to a thorough understanding with the young lady at the first convenient opportunity. But, in this important affair, as in that of their first acquaintance, the said young lady seemed to anticipate his wishes, for, in '' You their first solitary walk together, as he was "hemming and ha-ing" a prelude to something of more importance, she thus interrupted him—" Mr. Snealy, I think I can guess what you are about to say. wish to make yourself agreeable to me.” "It is my earnest, heartfelt desire !" ejaculated the little gentleman, placing his hand appropriately, and bowing reverentially. 66 "Very well," observed Lucy, now I'll tell you what you must do. Mind, I am now speaking confidentially. I appear to you to be mistress of my own actions, but such is not the case. I am under the strictest surveillance, unable even to get a letter by the post without its first passing through my father's hands. You know he has many odd ways and notions. Well, among the rest, he has taken it into his head to prevent me from corresponding with a very dear friend who is now on the Continent, towards whom I cannot bear the idea of appearing ungrateful. So I have written a letter; see, here it is—' Mrs. Simpson, care of Messrs. Lucas, Gonne, & Co., Lisbon.' You must take it to London, and put it into the foreign post-office, paying whatever they charge, for the people at the post-office at Bare my father's tenants, and he asks them so many questions, and they are so afraid of him, that it would not be safe to go there: besides, they probably know my hand-writing. You can make an excuse to run up to town for a day?" Our hero professed himself delighted at having an opportunity of serving her, and then the young lady proceeded to state that, relying on his consent and secresy, she had instructed her friend to direct for her under cover addressed to Sniffton Snealy, Esq., Glenfield Hall. "And now," she added, "I have only to say that, as I have no secrets kept from this dear friend, my future course of life will be governed by our correspondence.' "Will you allow me to ask one question?" inquired Mr. Snealy, tremulously. "Certainly," was the reply. "Well, now," continued our little swain, "don't think me presuming; but have you mentioned me in the letter?" "I have,” replied Lucy, while a smile dimpled her cheeks, and Mr. Snealy thought he had never seen her look so lovely. From that time the clandestine correspondence went on delightfully, and the |