From the beaming eye, Of a beautiful Maiden of Kent! Should a foreign foe our shores invade, From arm'd bands we'll ask no aid, But muster a line Of our maids divine; And let but their glances be sent From the eyes of the Maidens of Kent! Yet though we our lovely maidens prize, Which the human race Which are enshrin'd In the breast of a Maiden of Kent! No. XVIII. 'Tis beautiful, most beautiful! To watch the moon's pale beam, As it in the rippling water plays, With a bright and fitful gleam; To gaze upon the sombre tide, Where lines of silv'ry light, And as the corruscalions glance, So fancy some fair Nereid Hath loos'd her bright locks there. SHEERNESS.-ELOPEMENT. On Tuesday, the family of Mr. N, resident not far from the Royal Hotel, Mile Town, were thrown into a state of great consternation, in consequence of the daughter, Miss N, and the daughter-in-law, Miss D, having eloped. It appears after the ladies had lunched they went for a walk, and not appearing at seven o'clock at night, the family began to be alarmed. At nine o'clock they received information that the ladies were gone off in a hired chaise to be married. The parents immediately commenced pursuit. One of the ladies is only fourteen years old. The two gallants are stated to be Lieutenant S, of the last regiment that was stationed here, and the other Ensign C, of the regiment now on duty. A RUM STORY. 'Tis odd, but so the story goes, For as the note he did peruse, The trigger pull'd, when, "sweet contents, She cried, and ere the streams had done G. K. M. Fashion, it is well known, exercises a vast deal of influence on human affairs. Whatever she touches with her magic wand becomes refined and desirable. Even physic is rendered palatable, and sickness interesting. Among others of the newest fashion, a druggist advertises that he has supplied himself with a large and general assortment of fashionable medicines. Coughs, catarrhis, influenza, rheumatism, and other diseases of the season, are common enough, and in that respect fashionable enough, at this period of the year; for people exposed to cold cannot help themselves: but how physic, in any shape, or at any time, sick or well, can be said to be a fashionable commodity, we are at a loss to know, except.] that it answers the purpose of a puff to call it so. THE SMITHS! Amongst the many responsibilities entailed upon parents, not the least, in these prolific times, is that of providing their offspring with names which shall carry them safely through the wear and tear of after-life without encroaching upon the privileges, or sharing in the disgraces, of others. The man, for instance, who happens to bear the not impossible name of Smith, and who chooses to christen his son by the not uncommon one of John, commits an error so fatal as can well be imagined. At school that son is buffeted by mistake, and birched by accident, for the broken windows and invaded orchards, the acts of another John Smith. As he advances towards man's estate, his good reputation is stolen, and a bad one substituted, by the graceless conduct of a namesake. He is dunned for debts he never contracted, rendered liable for hearts he never broke, and imprisoned for assaults he never committed. He is superseded in the affections of his mistress by another John Smith, disinherited on his account, and when he dies-for even Smiths must die-no tear is shed to his memory, no record commemorates his decease; like the pebble which is cast into the ocean, a little circle just marks the spot for a moment, and the waves of oblivion roll over it for ever! The following are accepted.-Lines by J. H.— The Land of Liberty-The Warrior o'er the Body of his Son-To a Flower Girl-A SighThe Heiress to her Father-Winter-A Ballad -Go False One, Go-Sweet Rosabelle. Thanks to R. S. V. for his General Remarks. The following are returned.-Wright in the Wrong -The Departed-Life in the Country-Love in Paris-To Sophia-R. C.-A Song by R.V. -Lines by W. S. R.-Topaz, &c. &c. Correspondents are requested to send their communications (Post Paid) not later than Wednesday previous to publication, addressed to the Victoria Literary Club, at their office, 12, Wellington Street, Strand. Printed for the Proprietors, by F. ALVEY, 128, London Road, Southwark, and Published by JAMES BOLLAERT, 12, Wellington Street, Strand; and Sold by BERGER, Holywell Street; CLEAVE, Shoe Lane; W. STRANGE, 21, and E. GRATTON, 51, Paternoster Row; G. MANN, 39, Cornhill; CLARKE, Warwick Lane; PATTIE, 4, Brydges Street, Covent Garden; HETHERINGTON, Strand; PURKESS, Compton Street; WATSON, City Road; CLEMENCE, City Road; RICHARDS, London Road; and to be had of all Booksellers and Newsmen in Town and Country. HUSH. BRITAIN'S BRIGHT STAR, THE QUEEN OF OUR ISLE." "Come up the back stairs, an' let naebody see, An' come as ye waurna' comin' to me." The Scotch, notwithstanding their national traits of "prudence cold," and solidity imperturbable, are full of humour and naivete in matters appertaining to love. But whom does not Cupid affect? His sly godship has a way of his own, to relax gravity itself into a smile, and invest even the winter of age with a cheering sunshine. Why are we to wonder that the staid, gude Caledonians should be victims of his roguery, when we see, daily, men wedded to business, overthrown and discomfited by "the evil eye "of a roguish damsel? when we see even old folks, having, like Mount Hecla, their hearts on fire, while their heads are covered with snow. Of a truth, love is a wonderfully busy little fellow, and lets naebody alone, not even the unco knowing and canny Scot, who seems to do everything, but love and fight, by cold calculation. Any person, who is desirous of rich amusement, a treat that will amply repay perusal, should purchase the Penny Wedding," a characteristically Scottish entertainment, which has of late derived much adventitious fame from the magic, yet truthtelling pencil of Wilkie. In the prints and letter-press description, this amusing work, which has been recently got up" in superior style, by a London publisher, and a Caledonian to boot, gives a vivid and interesting portraiture of the humours of the humbler Scotch, when Hymen is the deity of their devotions. We should have said was, for sacerdotal Cupidity has ordained "fuit." The grave elders of the Caledonian kirk could not relish a custom venerated for its antiquity, and also for its peculiar nationality, merely, because it did not bring grist to their mill. The custom, to which we advert, was not only innocent, but useful; as the "Penny Weddings were not without "gatherings" of another sort as well as people fond of mirth. There was, in general, on those festive occasions, a collection made, adequate enough, in most cases, to embark the young couple in some business or other. Even dukes, and "belted knights," often condescended to give the merry meetings the ness. But, though the "Penny Wedding" is gone by, Cupid is not to be cheated out of his rights by the ghost of Malthus, or the living figures of the Crotchet mongers, dame Martineau, (an old maid perhaps disappointed!) and her anxiliary, her magnus Apollo, Lord Brougham, whose gorge would swell, if he were looking at the infant population now gamboling before our window, and laughing at old winter dressed out as he now is, with all imaginable repulsiveness, bearded with icicles and breathing forth a murky fog. The Scotch lassies are still the votaries of the little god, full of slyness and innocent deceptions; "Come na, but when the back gett is agee." eyesore." Cupid laughs at lawyers as well as [PRICE TWO-PENCE. Though rudely blows the north cold wind But even still the redbreast sings, The log is burning clear and bright With flowers of ev'ry hue, F. Λ. Μ. MILL HILL. Written after visiting Mill Hill, Gravesend, Oh! sweet Mill Hill, thy glorious charms I saw, And nature gloried in a summer day. The birds did carrol 'mong the leafy trees, A balmy freshness came upon the breeze, Kind nature smil'd, and all around look'd gay, Where brave Elizabeth her troops did meet, And conquer England with a Spaniard's fleet. TO A FLOWER GIRL. There's not a flower within thine hand, What flower would not neglected lie, A rose more lovely ne'er can grow, A dew more cheering ne'er can flow, MOHAMET BEN ALI, or, THE ARAB'S was very rational that M. R. and his daughters should be of the number. On their arrival at the mosque, or now Christian temple, Marcelina became pale, and clung to her father. It was the Bedouin she saw, he seemed Great indeed was the movement in Algiers, the unhappy, nay fearful. He cast his eyes towards drums beat, and crowds flocked to the Square of the altar-he sighed deeply-he had come doubtBab-Azoun. An escort was conveying two Scheikslessly to bid a last adieu to Mahomet, and call to execution, they were to be decapitated; on down his vengeance upon the authors of, to him, their arrival at the fatal spot, as if by magic, there so audacious a sacrilege. was a silence most awful-the crowd now retired who had come to see Aarbi-ben Moussa and Caid Mestaoud die, for they now were lifeless, their heads severed from their bodies. One of the spectators of this drama was a young and interesting female, but who had now reached her home in the Lalahoun Street, she entered an apartment and sank almost lifeless on a sofa. Her return had been perceived by another young female, her sister, who ran to her, and seeing her pale and suffering, embraced her affectionately, saying, “I am convinced you have been to the execution of the two Scheiks, how could you go to such an exhibition? Do not tremble thus, you are at home with your dear sister." "Thanks, Angela." After awhile Marcelina's agitation subsided, when she recounted the death of the two Arabs who for so long a time (although they wished to be thought friends to the French) were the prime movers of murder and pillage in the Metidja. 66 Angela and Marcelina pressed their father to withdraw, and in their hurry one lost her handkerchief and the other a glove. The Bedouin picked them up and secreted them." As a matter of course the young females had a discussion relative to the Bedouin, and the circumstance of losing a handkerchief and glove, but they came to the conclusion that it was no ordinary Bedouin-he must be rich-he was very hand some-. Time passed on, when one evening returning from a promenade the Bedouin made his ap pearance, as he passed the sisters he knelt down imprinting a convulsive kiss upon the flowery robe of Marcelina. Her sister Angela smiled, observing, "the Arab must be in love with you, allow me to felicitate you. It will be difficult to make a Lovelace out of a Bedouin, and imagine Marcelina R. transformed into Madam Bedouine. It was true the Bedouin had a heart, and he did Coming," said Marcelina, "from the quarter of love, the type of the ridiculous or the sublime of Bab-Azoun, I found myself near the Square of the a violent love. Daily did he await their going same name, crowds flocked to witness the sanabroad, it was to see Marcelina, he loved her, but between him and her there were insurmountable guinary scene and found it impossible to return home, I was obliged to remain, I trembled-around difficulties-a Christian, and a rich merchant's I heard nought else but horrible imprecations daughter-a Bedouin and a Mahometan, and it against the wretches about to die. I saw the would not be permitted to purchase her like the Bedouins wrapt up in their mantles, unquiet and females of his tribe; he knew all this, he lived dejected, mumbling, I know not, either impreca-only in the sight of her, and his existence was only tions or prayers. One of them was behind me, I nourished by his passion. In one of the encounters the Bedouin pressed his suit, when Marcelina heard his words but faintly-he supported and protected me from the press of the multitude. Oh! begged he would for ever desist from molesting sister dear, what a terrible scene, such a death! her. The poor Arab fell to the ground, groaned the two criminals approached attended by a Mamost piteously, dug his nails into his breast, blood rabout and surrounded by soldiers, before them gushed forth, he would have torn his heart out had he not fainted away. glittered in the sun the fearful yatagan of the executioner. Mestaoud, called the Caid of BouffaSome months passed away when M. R., owing rick, looked pitiful indeed, his head hung low, his to certain speculations, became a ruined man, teeth beat against each other, his very flesh was obliging him to come to the determination of sendin a strange sort of movement, he appeared to beging his daughters to France to some relations; for mercy. Aarbi stood erect, he drew up his gigantic stature and surveyed with his dark and eagle eye the assembled crowds, as if they were his slaves. Yes, he looked, I must not say beautiful, but romantic and terrible. A French officer read to them their sentence, the heavens, cried Allah! Allah! Allah! this was office was now at an end. when on board, bidding their last adieu to Algiers, which contained their parent, they saw the Bedouin upon some rocks, melancholy and wretched, in his hand a dagger, and as the vessel left the shore so did his anguish increase. Angela and Marcelina now began to dread the consequences of the Bedouin's passion. He plunged the dagger into his side, and fell lifeless into the sea; his mantle covering him as a shroud. when the captain of the vessel presented them The young females arrived in safety at Toulon, with a packet having their names inscribed thereon. They were all eagerness to see the contents. The executioner seized his victim, forcing him The packets contained the lost handkerchief, the to kneel, the yatagan I saw brandished over his lost glove, and with several hundred pieces of gold head-I closed my eyes-I heard shrieks-I al--with the following words-" Pray to Allah! for most fainted. The same Bedouin who had saved the soul of the Arab Mohamet-Ben-Ali. me from the crowd supported me. What would I have not given to have left the scene of terror. On opening my eyes I beheld Aarbi on the scaffold, horribly majestic he appeared, for the last time he looked with a disdaining eye upon the concourse, he knelt down, and in a moment his head was severed from his body-my Bedouin friend pro Sweet maid, each flower now droops its head, tected me to my home and then vanished." And owns thee for its queen; No flow'ret in that wreath can shed A fragrance so serene. Oh! that a flower, so choice, so sweet, ALEXANDER M. Marcelina and Angela were the daughters of a French merchant who had come to search fortune in Algiers, he had come to this country alone, but his speculations turning out favourably, had sent for his daughters. All Algiers was in commotion, bending their way towards the principal mosque, which had just been transformed into a Catholic Church, and it A SIGH. A sigh bespeaks a hidden wish, ALEXANDER M. |