1826.) 
to the reyiewer—not. yery exhilirating to 
the’ reader, who looks of course for variety 
—and destructiye to the proprietors ; for the 
ndency must be to extinguish the whole. 
~ We.would willingly, hold the scales with 
even-handed justice ; and, as we gave a spe- 
cimen from each of the others, take one from 
the “* Souvenir ;’’ and, knowing no better 
way; we dip for'a piece—Arthur Brooke, 
Esq.’; and we' are glad of it—a very clever 
provincial, who has ‘been’ sighing and 
singing for years past, and never gained the 
degree of attention we think’he deserved. 
; SONNET. 
If from the chaos of my youthful fate 
‘Have been shaped out some elements of rest ; 
If, beyond hope, the madness of my breast 
Hath felt at last its paroxysms abate, 
Leaving my breast not wholly desolate ;— 
. If in my brain, where like a spirit unblest, 
Thought long was racked, now peace can claim 
a testy 
_ In halcyon hours to musing consecrate ;— 
.Throned on composure, if the soul thus reigns, 
"Suffering no hopes t’ allure, no dreams t’ abuse; 
But o'er the wreck of perished joys and pains, 
Calmly contemplative its course pursues, 
Strong, self-possessed,—’tis not from what it 
gains, 
But what it can resign, such power accrues, 
‘Friendship’s Offering, a Literary Album ; 
edited by T. K. Hervey, Esq.— After ex- 
pressing our sense—our admiration, of the 
three little brilliants above, and when we 
considered our labours over, came a fourth, 
still with the same pretensions, and claim- 
ing the same attention, under the title of 
“* Friendship’s Offering ;”” dedicated to the 
“King’s most excellent Majesty,” and su- 
perintended by T. K. Hervey, Esq. What 
can we say of it? To us it seems, in all 
respects, equal to its felicitous competitors. 
Non nostrum—tantas componere lites. The 
prose, again, is superior to the poetry. Two 
pieces by the author of the “* Subaltern,” 
still campaigning—others by the author of 
“ Gilbert Earle ’’—and one, the ‘ Rosi-. 
erusian,” by the author of “ Sir John Chi- 
yerton,”’ are most remarkable—each cha- 
racteristic, able, and animated. 
_ ** Ours,”” says the deputy-editor, in the 
absence of his principal—after an ungra- 
cious, because uncalled-for defiance of the 
critic’s censure, “ is the rivalry of emula- 
tion—not of envy.” Why, the truth is, 
it would be difficult to detect a source from 
hich envy could spring. The engravers, 
mode of them, are the same; and even of 
Oh, eee themselves, some are the 
same; the very type must be of the same 
foindery, and ‘the paper of the same mill ; 
ie very Cormpositors seém in alliance ; and 
the writers, for the most part, are still the 
ame. Tn the whole execution there must 
surely lave been an intercourse of confi- 
dence among the several operators, open or 
covert: for never were coincidences and 
semblances so strikingly fortuitous before, 
~ rane ~ facies non omnibus una, 
Wee dlbered tamen—qualem decet esse sororum. 
\ 
Seri As} o US ti : ov 
~ "Domestic and Foreign. 
655 
gOS ett to-asingtifiowa 9 
At all eyents, all concerned, liave done 
their bidding well. . Well trained, well. ap- 
pointed, well matched, the race has been 
fairly run—they come in neck and neck; 
we, the stewards of the course, are puzzled. 
in deciding the winner—a_ reference to the 
club will fail—there must be another heat. 
Whims and. Oddities, in Prose and Verse, 
with Forty Original; Designs; by. Thomas: 
Hood. 1826.—This most amusing volume; 
answers well to its title. Its full (of 
whims and: oddities—to shake the» dia- 
phragm of the leadenest piece of saturnine- 
Nocommon pen is Tom Hood’s—as good 
at scratching caricature-heads, as scribbling 
ludicrous rhymes. He is already acceptably 
known, in one way, as one of the writers of 
the ‘‘ Odes to Great People ;’? and, in the 
other, as the designer of the “ Progress of 
Cant.” The little volume before: us will 
enhance his reputation, in both lines, ten- 
fold. Right welcome to us, indeed, is 
Master Thomas Hood, as filling up a seat 
that has long been vacated. Colman, since 
he turned reader instead of writer of plays, 
and busied himself with elipping the wings 
of others, instead of expanding his own, is 
lost to the lover of ‘‘ Broad Grins ;” and 
Horace Smith, seduced by the “ heavy 
figures”’ of Burlington-street, will hence- 
forth give us more gravities than gaieties— 
more Scott-ics than Pindar-ics.. Hood 
will amply indemnify us—he can work dou- 
ble tides. The best pieces of the volume— 
except “ Sally Brown,” and that every 
body knows—are too long to extract—the 
“Last Man,” the “ Sea-Spell,”’ and the 
‘* Mermaid of Margate,””—which last, how- 
eyer, we will cut down to a more conye- 
nient length, though we reluctantly disfi- 
gure it. ; 
MERMAID OF MARGATE. 
On Margate beach, where the sick one roams, 
And the sentimental reads ; 
Where the maiden flirts, and the widow comes, 
Like the ocean, to cast her weeds ;— 
There’s a maiden sits by the ocean brim, 
As lovely and fair as Sin! 
But woe, deep water and woe to him, 
That she snareth like Peter Fin! 
Her head is crowned with pretty sea wares, 
And her locks are golden and loose ; 
And seek to her feet, like other folks’ heirs, 
To stand, of course, in her shoes. 
And the Fishmonger, humble as love may be, 
Hath planted his seat by her side ;— 
** Good even, fair maid! Is thy lover at sea, 
To make thee so watch the tide?” * 
She turned about with her pearly brows, 
And clasped him by the hand :— 
«‘ Come, love, with me; I’ve a bonny house 
On the golden Goodwin Sand.” 
And away with her prize to the wave she leapt, 
Not walking, as damsels do,— 
With toe and heel,'as she ought to have stepped,— 
But she hopt like a kangaroo. 
One plunge, and then the victim was blind, 
Whilst they galloped across the tide: 
At last, on the bank, he waked in his mind, 
And the beauty was by his side,— 
