430 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 



the slight and too-fragile covering of former years having been, 

 judiciously, exchanged for a strong, rich, and elegant binding of very 

 dark crimson morocco, simply lettered in gold on the back. Notwith- 

 standing the lamented demise of its worthy and spirited projector, the 

 work continues under the original editorial auspices, and Mr. Shoberl 

 has evinced his usual tact and industry in amassing and arranging the 

 materials of his delightful little offering. In the present volume there 

 are several good pieces both in prose and poetry, and some of which are 

 excellent : the names of the contributors include those of many of our 

 most popular writers, but among them we also discover a few which have 

 as yet to become known to the world. Miss Landon, Henry D. Inglis, 

 T. K. Hervey,'Mrs. Lee, William and Mary Howitt, Delta, and Mrs. C. 

 Gore, are among the chief contributors, and their compositions must be 

 ranked amidst the gems of the entire. The volume opens with ** Diana 

 and Endymion," a poem of much beauty and fancy ; this is followed by 

 "a tale of the sea," entitled *'The Warlock," by *' The Old Sailor ;" 

 it is graphically drawn and sparkles with interest ; but the conclusion 

 is maimed of all fair proportion ; hurried and " huddled up,^' it gives to 

 the whole story the air of a picture in which the one-half is carefully 

 drawn and minutely finished, while the other is but crudely conceived 

 and faintly splashed in with water-colour tints. 



" The Warlock" is succeeded by " Madeira," a graceful little poem 

 by Miss Landon ; filled with sweet and pathetic sentiments, though all 

 not equally original. " The Merchant of Cadiz,*' a lively and spirited 

 story by H. D. Inglis, is one of the best prose contributions in the book, 

 the interest is well sustained, and the finale wound up with point and 

 sparkle. " My Aunt Lucy's Lesson," by H. F. Chorley, is a pleasant 

 lecture on the danger of jealousy, which we solicit leave to recommend 

 to the ladies, for whose edification it has been, considerately, produced ; 

 it is clever, amusing, and not overwrought, and, like a goodly medica- 

 ment, disguised in odours and sweets, it may effect a wholesome revolution 

 in the moral constitution of some of its fair readers. " The death of 

 Rachael," an exquisite poem from the pen of T. K. Hervey, comes next, 

 and in pronouncing it beautiful, most beautiful, we have to regret its 

 brevity only : " The night alarm," by Mrs. Lee, is a stimulating bagatelle, 

 a sort of novel harp of Eolus, which will be charming to the lovers of 

 mystical events : the solution is curious and interesting. But we must 

 pass on : — a very pretty little tale of village love, entitled *' Mabel Grey,'* 

 calls our attention ; it is pencilled with taste and spirit, and reflects honor 

 upon the fancy of the fair writer. Miss Agnes Strickland : ** Cardovan," 

 a sweet and pathetic poetical legend, full of touching and beautiful sim- 

 plicity, tells us of our gentlest of friends, Mary Howitt, a woman whose 

 cultivated mind, pure feeling, and stainless sentiment, stamp her as one 

 of those " ministering angels'' who lure anguish from the heart and sad- 

 ness from the brow, pouring balm into the breast that is wounded, and 

 propping up the spirit that is shaken as a reed in the desert : Mary 

 Howitt is, indeed, a woman imbued with all the holy sympathies and 

 charities of woman's nature, and genius as virtue comes not the less 

 glorious for stealing upon us visioned in its fairest form. The " Portrait'* 

 by Delta, is an impassioned and beautiful picture, shaded with sweet 

 melancholy and ennobled by the light of enduring affection ; we read it 

 and, instantly, a divine, pale and spiritualized countenance, by Leonardo 

 da Vinci, comes before our eye. The sketch of " Milan Cathedral," by 

 H. D. Inglis, is cleyer and imposing, and the little incident with which 

 it concludes is of interest, but is altogether too sketchy. The ** song" 

 which follows is anonymous, its merits are so trifling that we hasten to 



