every man to do his duty." As the first boat (for two were lowered and manned), pulled up under the stern, he flung the pieces into the deep, and again sunk upon the deck, his face resting downwards on his right arm as he lay.

"Mr. L, sir," said the mate, "they're along side. Look up, sir-come, sir, don't be ashamed, you've fought her well, and they won't make much of the prize at any rate; she has stood too much riddling to do them much good. Oh, Mr. L- I hope you're not much hurt, sir. All's over now." He raised his brave young officer in his arms.-Yes, all was over, indeed! He never spoke again, nor did his eyes ever more unclose, to see his darling first command in the hands of another!

But a gallant nation did honour to his memory, and to his remains. All nations have brave men-and so

God rest his soul!

Sith 'twill no better be

We trust we have in this our land

Five hundred, good as he.

ON A WOUNDED DEER FOUND IN WHITTLEBURY FOREST.

BY MISS CHARLOTTE NORMAN.

ART thou left in thy solitude to die,

Thou stricken one and lorn?

Wilt thou never more with thy swift feet fly
At the sound of the echoing horn?

Have they left thee alone on thy mossy bed,

To the night-wind's chilly blast? Already thou'rt number'd with the dead,

And thy strength is failing fast.

Oh, where is the herd thou loved'st so well
In thy days of mirth and glee,

When ye sported so blithely in the dell,
Or reposed by the sheltering tree?

On that mossy bank where the harebell grows,
Wet with the dew of heaven,

By the brook where the water-lily blows,
Where ye slaked your thirst at even.

And thou wer't a gay and joyous thing,
And thy step as light and free

As the zephyr that comes from the grove
Or the waves of the bounding sea.

in spring,

But now thou art still, and thy calm fix'd eye
Is upturn'd with a piteous gaze;

Thou art left by thy brethren alone to die
In the spring-tide of thy days.

Thus, when some fair and fragile thing,
In whom once the world delighted,
Writhing beneath some deadly sting,
With a broken heart, and blighted,

Imploringly turns for shelter there,

She will meet with no pitying eye:

They smiled with her when she was bright and fair, But leave her when stricken, to die!

Thrice happy, if, in her last lone hour,

Like thee! poor wounded deer,

She may find such a shelter'd, peaceful bower,

And one sympathizing tear.

IMPROMPTU

ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE SOMETHING UPON LEAVING ENGLAND FOR NORWAY, JUNE 1836.

BY THE MARQUESS OF GRANBY.

WHY, as the hour approaches nigh,
When from my country's shores I fly,
Why do I wish one other day
To linger here my time away?
Since on old Norway's rugged shore,
Where few have freely trod before,
'Midst sablest rocks, and whitest snows,
And crystal streams in clear repose,
Soon, soon, surrounded by the foam
Of thundering waterfalls, to roam,
Shall now be mine; and many a day
To wile midst their proud scenes away;
Through smiling valleys, green and bright,
Through endless forests, black as night;
O'er mountain crests and chasms deep,
By precipices high and steep;
Whilst, then, I wander light and free,
My land, I still shall think of thee!
Shall think of those to me so dear,

Of those I leave behind me here.

Ah! now undoubting, feel I why,

While thus th' approaching hour draws nigh,
When from my country's shores I fly,

I wish for yet one other day,

To linger here my time away!

NOTHING.

BY THE HON. GRANTLEY FITZHARDINGE BERKELEY, M.P.

"WHAT are you going to do to-morrow?" said Sir Hugh Wansford to me, on a Saturday night at the Opera. Nothing;" I replied, with my usual indolence and indecision of manner. 66 Nothing, unless it be to visit the Zoological Gardens, and stare the monkeys out of countenance."

"Thou art the man I want," continued my interrogator, "thou canst be of infinite service to me, while at the same time thou wilt have an opportunity of making thine own fortune. Listen then: Louisa and I are going down to Cranford Bridge to-morrow, to dine-walk about-andand-ruralize; her friend,—such a friend, five thousand a-year now in her own right, lots of expectations, and loads of good looks,—is to accompany us. Now, you know, my dear fellow, that three people in the country, on a fine summer's afternoon, are far too many to be agreeable to each other; they make thunder come, spoil flowers, and strangle nightingales. In short, nature won't hear of them; so, you must take Miss Manydubs off our hands.” "Miss what?" I exclaimed.

"Prithee peace, and do not interrupt thy best friend; tête-à-tête the whole evening shalt thou be, a vacant seat in the carriage is at thy disposal. We start at two, to dine punctually at four, at the White Hart, where, water souché, chicken, green peas, asparagus, cherry tarts, strawberries, cream, and other heroic food, are to be ready. Speak,

then, my dear fellow, that I may know thee-wilt thou come or not?"

"Miss Manydubs," said I, musing, "there's not much poetry in her name, but I don't care if I do accompany thee, good looks-five thousand a-year, (rubbing my hands,) say no more, Hugh, I'm the very man to serve you and myself too, so at the given hour will I be at the appointed place."

“In Piccadilly, then, fail not.”

The Ballêt being over, we separated for the night.

It is here necessary that I should say something of my disposition. Indolent in action, but active in mind, my hand and heart seldom keep pace together. If I resolve upon a particular plan, I sit and mentally enjoy its completion, ere I have taken one step to put it in practice; consequently mine has been, in a great measure, a visionary and useless existence. The goal of success ever before my eyes, but the energy required to reach it, seldom, if ever, forthcoming. On the present occasion, I had a previous engagement to leave town on the Monday; the hours were therefore few, in which to besiege and capture a fortress so well supplied. This previous engagement I had time to postpone, yet I thought I would not do so, after all, my introduction to the fortune might not lead to any serious result: finally, therefore, my determination was fixed, to make love, and in case of failure, to sleep as usual, and leave London, all in eight-and-forty hours.

as

For the first half hour after I had retired to bed, I dreamed with my eyes open, of a successful love-suit of six hours, of marriage, of smiling wives, mansions, horses, hounds, and game. Then, "a change came o'er the spirit