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Others on beds of roses lay reclined,

they should find a voice to complain that we are The regal flowers athwart their full lips thrown, tyrants and usurpers, to kill and cook thein up in And in one fragrance both their sweets combined, their assigned and native dwelling-place,” we should

As if they on the self-same stem had grown, niost convincingly admonish thein, with point of So close were rose and lip together twined

arrow, that they have nothing to do with our laws but A double flower that from one bud had blown, to obey them. Is it not written that the fat riby of Till none could tell, so closely were they blended, the herd'shall be fed upon by the mighty in the land? Where swelled the curving lip, or where the rose-bloom And have not they, withal, my blessing !--my orthoended.

dox, canonical, and arcbiepiscopal blessing? Do I 106

give thanks for them when they are well roasted and One, half asleep, crushing the twined flowers, Upon a velvet slope like Dian lay;

smoking under my nose? What title had Williain

of Normandy to England that Robin of Locksley has Still as a lark that mid the daisies cowers :

not to merry Sherwood ? William fought for his Her looped-up tunic tossed in disarray,

claim. So does Robin. With whom both? With Showed rounded limbs, too fair for earthly bowers ; They looked like roses on a cloudy day;

any that would or will dispute it. William raised

contributions. So does Robin. From whom both ? The warm white dulled amid the colder green ; The flowers too rough a couch that lovely shape to From all that they could or can make pay them.

Why did any pay them to William? Why do any

pay them to Robin? For the same reason to bothSome lay like Thetis' nymphs along the shore, because they could not or cannot help it. They differ,

With ocean-pearl combing their golden locks, indeed, in this, that William took from the poor and And singing to the waves for everinore;

gave to the rich, and Robin takes from the rich and Sinking like flowers at eve beside the rocks, gives to the poor; and therein is Robin illegitimate, If but a sound above the muffled roar

though in all else he is true prince. Scarlet and Of the low waves was heard. In little focks John, are they not peers of the forest ?-lords tempoOthers went trooping through the wooded alleys, ral of Sherwood? And am not I lord spiritual? Am Their kirtles glancing white, like streams in sunny I not archbishop? Am I not Pope? Do I not convalleys.

secrate their banner and absolve their sins? Are not

they State, and am not I Church! Are not they They were such forms as, imaged in the night, State monarchical, and am not I Church militant? Sail in our dreams across the heaven's steep blue;

Do I not excommunicate our enemies from venison When the closed lid sees visions streaming bright,

and brawn, and, by'r Lady! when need calls, beat Too beautiful to et the naked view;

them down under my feet? The State levies tax, Like faces formed in clouds of silver light.

and the Church levies tithe. Even so do we. Masa! Women they were ! such as the angels knew

—we take all at once. What then? It is tax by Such as the mammoth looked on, ere he fled,

redemption, and tithe by commutation. Your WilScared by the lovers' wings, that streamed in sunset liam and Richard can cut and come again, but our red.

Robin deals with slippery subjects that come not twice to his exchequer. What need we, then, to con

stitute a court, except a fool and a laureate! For This gentleman has written some lively, natural, the fool, his only use is to make false knaves merry and humorous novels-Headlong Hall, 1816; Night" | by art, and we are true men, and are merry by nature. mare Abbey, 1818 ; Maid Mariun, 1822 ; and 'Crochet For tlic laureate, his only office is to find virtues in

those who have none, and to drink sack for his pains. Castle, 1831. These were republished in 1837 in one volume of Bentley's Standard Library, and no single We have quite virtue enough to need him not, and

can drink our sack for ourselves.' volume of fiction of modern production contains more witty or sarcastic dialogue, or more admirable

HORACE SMITU. sketches of eccentric and ludicrous characters. His dramatis persona are finely arranged and diversified, Mr HORACE Smith, one of the accomplished authors and are full of life, argument, and observation. From of the Rejected Addresses, was one of the first imitathe higher mood' of the author we extract one short tors of Sir Walter Scott in his historical romances. sketch- a graphic account, in the tale of Maid | His Brambletye House, a tale of the civil wars, pubMarian,' of freebooter life in the forest.

lished in 1826, was received with distinguished fa*I am in fine company,' said the baron.

vour by the public, though some of its descriptions * In the very best of company,' said the friar; 'in of the plague in London were copied too literally the high court of Nature, and in the midst of her own

from Defoe, and there was a want of spirit and truth nobility. Is it not so ? This goodly grove is our in the embodiment of some of the historical characpalace; the oak and the beech are its colonnade and ters. The success of this effort inspired the author its canopy; the sun, and the moon, and the stars, are to venture into various fields of fiction. He has subits everlasting lamps ; the grass, and the daisy, and sequently written Tor Hill; Zillah, a Tale of the Holy the primrose, and the violet, are its many-coloured City; The Midsummer Medley; Walter Colyton ; The floor of green, white, yellow, and blue; the Mayflower, Involuntary Prophet; Jane Lomar; The Moneyed Man; and the woodbine, and the eglantine, and the ivy, are Adam Brown; The Merchant, &c. •The Moneyed its decorations, its curtains, and its tapestry; the lark, Man' is the most natural and able of Mr Smith's and the thrush, and the linnet, and the nightingale, novels, and contains some fine pictures of London are its unhired minstrels and musicians. Robin city life. The author himself is fortunately a Hood is king of the forest both by dignity of birth and moneyed man. 'Mr Shelley said once, “I know by virtue of his standing army, to say nothing of the not what Horace Smith must take me for somefree choice of his people, which he has indeed; but I times: I am afraid he must think me a strange pass it by as an illegitimate basis of power. He holds fellow; but is it not odd, that the only truly genehis dominion over the forest, and its horned multitude rous person I ever knew, who had money to be of citizen-deer, and its swinish multitude or peasantry generous with, should be a stockbroker! And he of wild boars, by right of conquest and force of arms. writes poetry too," continued Mr Shelley, his voice He levies contributions among them by the free con- rising in a fervour of astonishment_“ he writes sent of his archers, their virtual representatives. If poetry and pastoral dramas, and yet knows how to


make money, and does make it, and is still gene-in 1843 Forest Days, Eva St Clair, The False Heir, rous."'* The poet also publicly expressed his re- and Arabella Stuart. We have in this catalogue gard for Mr Smith.

some seventy or eighty volumes. There seems' Wit and sense,

says a lively writer, ‘to be no limit to his ingenuity, Virtue and human knowledge, all that might

his faculty of getting up scenes and incidents, dilemMake this dull world a business of delight,

mas, artifices, contretemps, battles, skirmishes, disAre all combined in H. S.

guises, escapes, trials, combats, adventures. He accumulates names, dresses, implements of war and

peace, official retinues, and the whole paraphernalia GEORGE P. R. JAMES.

of customs and costumes, with astounding alacrity. MR GEORGE P. R. James is another of Scott's He appears to have exhausted every imaginable historical imitators, and perhaps the best of the situation, and to have described every available numerous band. If he had not written so much, article of attire on record. What he must have

passed through—what triumphs he must have en-
joyed-what exigencies he must have experienced-
what love he must have suffered-what a grand l'
wardrobe his brain must be! He has made some
poetical and dramatic efforts, but this irresistible
tendency to pile up circumstantial particulars is
fatal to those forms of art which demand intensity
of passion. In stately narratives of chivalry and
feudal grandeur, precision and reiteration are desir.
able rather than injurious—as we would have the
most perfect accuracy and finish in a picture of !!
ceremonials; and here Mr James is supreme. One
of his court romances is a book of brave sights and
heraldic magnificence—it is the next thing to mor.
ing at our leisure through some superb and august


REV. G. R. GLEIG. The Rev. G. R. GLEIC, chaplain of Chelsea Hospital, in the early part of his life served in the army, and in 1825 he published his military reminiscences! in an interesting narrative entitled The Subaltern. In 1829 he issued a work also partly fictitious, The Chelsea Pensioners, which was followed next year by

The Country Curate; in 1837 by The Hussar, and George P. R. James

Traditions of Chelsea Hospital; and in 1843 by The

Light Dragoon. Besides many anonymous and other if, instead of employing an amanuensis, to whom productions, Mr Gleig is author of Memoirs of War; he dictates his thick-coming fancies,' he had con ren Hastings, a work which certainly has not added centrated his whole powers on a few congenial to his reputation. subjects or periods of history, and resorted to the manual labour of penmanship as a drag-chain on the machine, he might have attained to the highest

W. H. MAXWELL-C. LEVER—S. LOVER. honours of this department of composition. As it

Various military narratives, in which imaginary is, he has furnished many light, agreeable, and scenes and characters are mixed up with real erents picturesque books-none of questionable tendency and graphic descriptions of continental scenery, --and all superior to the general run of novels have been published in consequence of the sucof the season. Mr James's first appearance as

cess of the Subaltern. Amongst the writers of this an author was made, we believe, in 1822, when class is Mr W. H. MAXWELL, author of Stories of he published a History of the Life of Edward the Waterloo, 1829; Wild Sports of the West; Adren Black Prince. In 1829 he struck into that path in tures of Captain Blake; The Bivouac, or Stories of the which he has been so indefatigable, and produced Peninsular War; The Fortunes of Hector O'Halloran, his historical romance of Richelieu, a very attrac- &c. Mr C. LEVER is still more popular ; for, in tive fiction. In 1830 he issued two romances, addition to his battle scenes and romantic exploits, Darnley, or the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and De he has a rich racy national humour, and a truly L'Orme. Next year he produced Philip Augustus ; Irish love of frolic. His first work was The Cortesin 1832 a History of Charlemagne, and a tale, Henry sions of Harry Lorrequer, which was followed by Masterton; in 1833 Mary of Burgundy, or the Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dragoon; Jack Hinton

, Revolt of Ghent; in 1834 The Life and Adventures the Guardsman; Tom Burke of Ours,' and Arthur of John Marston Hall ; in 1835 One in a Thousand, O'Leary, his Wanderings and Ponderings in many or the Days of Henri Quatre, and The Gipsy, a Tale; Lands. Mr Lever's heroes have all a strong love of in 1837 Attila, a romance, and The Life and Times adventure, a national proneness to blundering, and of Louis XIV.; in 1838 The Huguenot, a Tale of the a tendency to get into scrapes and questionable French Protestants, and The Robber; in 1839 Henry situations. The author's chief fault is his often of Guise, and A Gentleman of the Old School ; in mistaking farce for comedy-mere animal spirits for 1840 The King's Highway, and The Man at Arms; wit or humour. MR SAMUEL LOVER, author of in 1841 Corse de Leon, Jacquerie, or the Lady and Legends and Stories of Ireland, Rory O'More, Hardy Page: The Ancient Régime, and A History of the Life Andy, L. S. D. &c. is also a genuine Irish writer, of Richard Cæur de Lion; in 1842 Morley Ernstein; strong lover of his country, and, like Moore, a poet

and musician, as well as novelist. The scenes of * Lord Byron and some of his contemporaries, by Leigh war, rebellion, and adventure in Mr Lover's tales

are related with much spirit.



JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, the American novelist,

MR HALIBURTON, a judge in Nova Scotia, is the Sas obtained great celebrity in England, and over reputed author of a series of highly-amusing works all Europe, for his pictures of the sea, sea-life, and illustrative of American and Canadian manners, wild Indian scenery and manners. His imagination abounding in shrewd sarcastic remarks on political

questions, the colonies, slavery, domestic institutions and customs, and almost every familiar topic of the day. The first of these appeared in 1837, under the title of The Clockmaher, or the Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick of Slickville. A second series was published in the following year, and a third in 1840. Sam Slick’ was a universal favourite; and in 1843 the author conceived the idea of bringing him to England. The Attaché, or Sam Slick in England, gives an account of the sayings and doings of the clockmaker when elevated to the dignity of the Honourable Mr Slick, Attaché of the American Legation to the court of St James's.' There is the same quaint humour, acute observation, and laughable exaggeration in these volumes as in the former, but, on the whole, Sam is most amusing on the other side of the Atlantic.


W. HARRISON AINSWORTH. Mr W. HARRISON AIXsworth has written several picturesque romances, partly founded on English history and manners. Ilis Rookwood, 1834, is a very animated narrative, in which the adventures of Turpin the highwayman are graphically related, and some of the vulgar superstitions of the last century coloured with the lights of genius. In the interest

and rapidity of his scenes and adventures, Mr AinsJames Fenimore Cooper.

worth evinced a dramatic power and art, but no oriis essentially poetical. He invests the ship with all second romance, Crichton, 1836, is founded on the

ginality or felicity of humour or character. His the interest of a living being, and makes his readers marvellous history of the Scottish cavalier, but is follow its progress, and trace the operations of those scarcely equal to the first. He has since written on board, with intense and never-flagging anxiety. Jack Sheppard, a sort of Newgate romance, The Of humour he has scarcely any perception; and in Tower of London, Guy Fawkes, Old St Pauls

, and delineating character and familiar incidents, he often | Windsor Castle. There are rich, copious, and brilbetrays a great want of taste and knowledge of the liant descriptions in some of these works, but their world. When he attempts to catch the case of tendency is at least doubtful. To portray scenes of fashion,' it has been truly said, he is singularly un- low successful villany, and to paint ghastly and successful.' He belongs, like Mrs Radcliffe, to the hideous details of human suffering, can be no elevatromantic school of novelists—especially to the sea, ing task for a man of genius, nor one likely to prothe heath, and the primeval forest. Mr Cooper, ac

mote among novel readers a healthy tone of moral cording to a notice of him some years since in the

feeling or sentiment. New Monthly Magazine, was born at Burlington on the Delaware, in 1798, and was removed at an early age to Cooper's Town, a place of which he has given an interesting account in The Pioneers. At thirteen he was admitted to Yale college, New Haven, and In vivid painting of the passions, and depicting three years afterwards he went to seaman event that scenes of modern life, the tales of Mr SAMUEL WARgave a character and colour to his after-life, and pro- REN, F.R.S. have enjoyed a high and deserved deduced impressions of which the world has reaped the gree of popularity. His Passages from the Diary of rich result. On his marriage to a lady in the state a Late Physician, two volumes, 1837, contain many of New York, he quitted the navy, and devoted him touching and beautiful stories; and his Ten Thouself to composition. His first work was published sand a Yeur, though in some parts ridiculously exin 1821, and since that period he must have written aggerated, and too liable to the suspicion of being above seventy volumes. Among them are The Pilot; a satire upon the middle classes, is also an amusThe Pioneers; The Spy; The Prairie; The Last of the ing and able novel. Mrs Bray, a Devonshire Mohicans ; The Red Rover ; The Borderers; The Bravo; lady, and authoress of an excellent tour among the The Deer Slayer ; Eve Effingham; The Headsman; mountains and lakes of Switzerland, has written Heidenmauer ; Homeward Bound; Jack - Lantern; a number of historical and other novels- De Foir, Mercedes of Castile; The Pathfinder; The Two Admi-or Sketches of Manners and Customs of the Fourrals; The Water Witch; Wyandotte; Ned Myers, or teenth Century, 1826; Henry de Pomercy; The ProLife before the Mast, &c. Besides his numerous works testant, a Tale of the Reign of Queen Mary; Talba, of fiction, Mr Cooper has written Ercursions in Italy, or the Moor of Portugal; Trelawney of Trelawney, 1838; a History of the American Navy, 1839, &c. &c. An English novel, Caleb Stukeley, published In these he does not appear to advantage. He seems anonymously in 1842, is a vigorous and interest. to cherish some of the worst prejudices of the Ame- ing work, though in some parts coarse and vehericans, and, in his zeal for republican institutions, to ment in style. The Adventures of Mr Ledbury, forget the candour and temper becoming an enlight- by ALBERT Smith, and The Prairie Bird, by the ened citizen of the world.

HONOURABLE C. A. MURRAY, may be mentioned as




among the superior class of recent novels. The through scenes of poverty and crime, and all the whole of these it would be impossible to enumerate; characters are made to discourse in the appropriate for not only does every year and month send out a language of their respective classes ; and yet we new one,' but every magazine contains tales and recollect no passage which ought to cause pain to parts of romances well written, and possessing many the most sensitive delicacy, if read aloud in female of the requisites for successful works of this descrip- society.' tion. The high and crowning glory of originality, The next work of our author was Nicholas Nickleby, wit, or inventive genius, must always be rare; but a tale which was also issued in monthly numbers, in no previous period of our literature was there so and soon attained to extensive popularity. The much respectable talent, knowledge, and imagination plan of this work is more regular and connected embarked in fictitious composition. One great name, than that of Pickwick, the characters generally however, yet remains to be mentioned.

not overdrawn, and the progressive interest of the narrative well sustained. The character of Bars Nickleby is a fine portraiture of the ordinary Eog

lish wife, scarcely inferior in its kind to Fielding's Few authors have succeeded in achieving so bril- Amelia ; and Ralph Nickleby is also ably portrayed. liant a reputation as that secured by MR CHARLES The pedagogue Squeers, and his seminary of DoDickens in the course of a few years. The sale of theboys Hall, is one of the most amusing and gra. his works has been unexampled, and they have been phic of English satirical delineations; and the picture translated into various languages, including even it presents of imposture, ignorance, and brutal cuthe Dutch and Russian. Writings so universally pidity, is known to have been little, if at all, caripopular must be founded on truth and nature—must catured. The exposure was a public benefit. The appeal to those passions and tastes common to man- ludicrous account of Mr Crummles and his thes. kind in every country ; and at the same time must trical company will occur to the reader as another of possess originality and force of delineation. The Dickens's happiest conceptions, though it is pushed first publication of Dickens was a series of sketches into the region of farce. "In several of our author's and illustrations, chiefly of ordinary English and works there appears a minute knowledge of dra. metropolitan life, known as Sketches by Boz. The matic rules and stage affairs. He has himself, it is earlier numbers of these were written for a news- said, written an opera and a farce, and evidently paper, the Evening Chronicle, and the remainder for takes pleasure in the business of the drama. May a magazine. They were afterwards collected and not some of his more startling contrasts in situapublished in two volumes, bearing respectively the tion and description be traced to this predilection? dates of 1836 and 1837. The author was then a Oliver Twist, the next work of Mr Dickens, is also young man of about twenty-six. In 1837 he began a tale of English low life, of vice, wretchedness, and another series of a similar character, The Pickwick misery, drawn with the truth and vigour of Crabbe. Papers, of which 30,000 copies are said to have The hero is an orphan brought up by the parish, been sold. Though defective in plan and arrange- and thrown among various scenes and characters ment, as Mr Dickens himself admits, the characters of the lowest and worst description. The plot of in this new series of sketches, and the spirit with this novel is well managed, and wrought up with which the incidents are described, amply atone for consummate art and power. The interest of the the want of any interesting or well-constructed plot. dark and tragical portions of the story is overThe hero, Pickwick, is almost as genial, unsophisti- whelming, though there is no unnatural exaggera. '! cated, and original as My Uncle Toby, and his man, tion to produce effect, and no unnecessary gloom. Sam Weller, is an epitome of London low life in its Take, for example, the following account of a scene most agreeable and entertaining form. The dia- of death witnessed by Oliver while acting in the logue overflowed with kindly humour, and felicities capacity of attendant to an undertaker. of phrase and expression; the description was so graphic and copious, and the comic scenes so finely

[Death and Funeral of a Pauper.] blended with tenderness and benevolence, that the effect of the whole was irresistible. The satire and open door where Oliver and his master stopped ; so,

There was neither knocker nor bell-handle at the ridicule of the author were always well directed, groping his way cautiously through the dark passage, and though coloured a little too highly, bore the and bidding Oliver keep close to him, and not be clear impress of actual life and observation. To aid afraid, the undertaker mounted to the top of the first in these effects, Mr Dickens called in the artist and fight of stairs, and, stumbling against a door on the engraver. What Boz conceived and described, Phiz landing, rapped at it with his knuckles. represented with so much truth, and spirit, and individuality-seizing upon every trait and feature, and teen. The undertaker at once saw enough of what ,

It was opened by a young girl of thirteen or fourpreserving the same distinguishing characteristics the room contained, to know it was the apartment to throughout—that the characters appeared to stand which he had been directed. He stepped in, and bodily forth to the world as veritable personages of Oliver followed him. the day, destined to live for all time coming. The There was no fire in the room; but a man was intimate acquaintance evinced in ‘Pickwick' with crouching mechanically over the empty store. An the middle and low life of London, and of the tricks old woman, too, had drawn a low stool to the cold and knavery of legal and medical pretenders, the hearth, and was sitting beside him. There were some arts of bookmakers, and generally of particular ragged children in another corner; and in a small classes and usages common to large cities, was a recess, opposite the door, there lay upon the ground novelty in our literature. It was a restoration of something covered with an old blanket. Oliver shud. the spirit of Hogarth, with equal humour and prac- dered as he cast his eyes towards the place, and crept tical wit and knowledge, but informed with a better involuntarily closer to his master; for, though it was tone of humanity, and a more select and refined covered up, the boy felt that it was a corpse. taste. There is no misanthropy in his satire,' said The man's face was thin and very pale; his hair one of his critics, and no coarseness in his descrip- and beard were rizzly, and his eyes were bloodshot. tions-a merit enhanced by the nature of his sub- The old woman's face was wrinkled, her two remainjects. His works are chiefly pictures of humble life ing teeth protruded over her under lip, and her eyes --frequently of the humblest. The reader is led / were bright and piercing. Oliver was afraid to look

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at either her or the man; they seemed so like the rats Now, you must put your best leg foremost, old he had seen outside,

lady,' whispered Sowerberry in the old woman's car; Nobody sball go near her,' said the man, starting 'we are rather late, and it wont do to keep the fiercely up as the undertaker approached the recess. clergyman waiting. Move on, my men—as quick as

Keep back! d-n you, keep back, if you've a life to you like.' lose.'

Thus directed, the bearers trotted on under their Nonsense, my good man,' said the undertaker, light burden, and the two mourners kept as near them who was pretty well used to misery in all its shapes, as they could. Mr Bumble and Sowerberry walked nonsense!'

at a good smart pace in front; and Oliver, whose legs 'I tell you,' said the man, clenching his hands and were not so long as his master's, ran by the side. stamping furiously on the floor--- I tell you I wont There was not so great a necessity for hurrying as have her put into the ground. She couldn't rest Mr Sowerberry had anticipated, however; for when there. The worms would worry-not eat her-she is they reached the obscure corner of the churchyard, in 80 worn away.'

which the nettles grew, and the parish graves were The undertaker offered no reply to this raving, but made, the clergyman had not arrived, and the clerk, producing a tape from his pocket, knelt down for a who was sitting by the vestry-room fire, seemed to moment by the side of the body.

think it by no means improbable that it might be an “Ah!' said the man, bursting into tears, and sink- hour or so before he came. So they set the bier down ing on his knees at the feet of the dead woman; on the brink of the grave; and the two mourners 'kneel down, kneel down; kneel round her every one waited patiently in the damp clay, with a cold rain of you, and mark my words. I say she starred to drizzling down, while the ragged boys, whom the death. I nerer knew how bad she was till the fever spectacle had attracted into the churchyard, played a came upon her, and then her bones were starting noisy game at hide-and-seck among the tonibstones, through the skin. There was neither fire nor candle; or varied their amusements by jumping backwards she died in the dark—in the dark. She couldn't even and forwards over the coffin. Mr Sowerberry and see her children's faces, though we heard her gasping Bumble, being personal friends of the clerk, sat by out their names. I begged for her in the streets, and the fire with him, and read the paper. they sent me to prison. When I came back she was At length, after the lapse of something more than dying; and all the blood in my heart has dried up, an hour, Mr Bumble, and Sowerberry, and the clerk for they starved her to death. I swear it before the were seen running towards the grave; and immeGod that saw it-they starved her!' He twined his. diately afterwards the clergyman appeared, putting hands in his hair, and with a loud scream rolled on his surplice as he came along. Mr Bumble then grovelling upon the floor, his eyes fixed, and the foam thrashed a boy or two to keep up appearances; and gushing from his lips.

the reverend gentleman, having read as much of the The terrified children cried bitterly; but the old burial-service as could be compressed into four minutes, woman, who had hitherto remained as quiet as if she gave his surplice to the clerk, and ran away again. had been wholly deaf to all that passed, menaced 'Now, Bill,' said Sowerberry to the grave-digger, them into silence; and having unloosened the man's fill up.' cravat, who still remained extended on the ground, It was no very difficult task, for the grave was so tottered towards the undertaker.

full that the uppermost coffin was within a few feet 'She was my daughter,' said the old woman, nodding of the surface. The grave-digger shovelled in the her head in the direction of the corpse, and speaking earth, stamped it loosely down with his feet, shoulwith an idiotic leer more ghastly than even the pre- dered his spade, and walked off, followed by the boys, sence of death itself. 'Lord, Lord! well, it is strange who murmured very loud complaints at the fun being that I who gave birth to her, and was a woman then, over so soon. should be alive and merry now, and she lying there • Come, my good fellow,' said Bumble, tapping the 80 cold and stiff! Lord, Lord to think of it; it's man on the back, 'they want to shut up the yard.' as good as a play, as good as play!

The inan, who had never once moved since he had As the wretched creature mumbled and chuckled taken his station by the grave side, started, raised his in her hideous merriment, the undertaker turned to head, stared at the person who had addressed him, go away.

walked forward for a few paces, and then fell down in *Stopstop!' said the old woman in a loud whisper. a fit. The crazy old woman was too much occupied . Will she be buried to-morrow, or next day, or to- in bewailing the loss of her cloak (which the undernight? I laid her out, and I must walk, you know. taker had taken off) to pay him any attention ; 80 Send me a large cloak; a good warm one, for it is they threw a can of cold water over him, and when he bitter cold. We should have cake and wine, too, came to, saw him safely out of the churchyard, locked before we go! Never mind : send some bread; only the gate, and departed on their different ways. a loaf of bread and a cup of water. Shall we have • Well, Oliver,' said Sowerberry, as they walked some bread, dear? she said eagerly, catching at the home, ' how do you like it?' undertaker's coat as he once more moved towards the Pretty well, than you, sir,' replied Oliver, with door.

considerable hesitation. * Not very much, sir.' *Yes, yes,' said the undertaker ; 'of course ; any. *Ah, you'll get used to it in time, Oliver,' said thing, everything? He disengaged himself from the Sowerberry. Nothing when you are used to it, my old woman's grasp, and, dragging Oliver after him, boy.' burried away.

Oliver wondered in his own mind whether it had The next day (the family having been meanwhile taken a very long time to get Mr Sowerberry used to relieved with a half-quartern loaf and a piece of it; but he thought it better not to ask the question, cheese, left with them by Mr Bumble himself) Oliver and walked back to the shop, thinking over all he and his master returned to the miserable abode, where had seen and heard. Mr Bumble had already arrived, accompanied by four men from the workhouse, who were to act as bearers. The atrocities of Sykes in the same tale, particuAn old black cloak had been thrown over the rags of larly his murder of the girl Nancy, are depicted the old woman and the man; the bare coffin having with extraordinary power. been screwed down, was then hoisted on the shoul. In 1840 Mr Dickens commenced a new species of ders of the bearers, and carried down stairs into the fiction, entitled Master Humphrey's Clock, designed, street.

like the Tales of My Landlord, to comprise different

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