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At first, all deadly shapes were driven

The plank whereon that Lady sate Tumultuously across her sleep,

Was driven thro' the chasms about and about, And o'er the vast cope of bending heaven

Between the peaks so desolate All ghastly-visaged clouds did sweep;

Of the drowning mountains in and out

As the thistle beard on a whirlwind sails
And the Lady ever looked to spy
If the golden sun shone forth on high.

While the flood was filling those hollow vales. And as towards the east she turned,

At last her plank an eddy crost, She saw aloft in the morning air,

And bore her to the city's wall, Which now with hues of sunrise burned,

Which now the flood had reached almost; A great black anchor rising there;

It might the stoutest heart appal And wherever the lady turned her eyes.

To hear the fire roar and hiss It hung before her in the skies.

Thro' the domes of those mighty palaces. The sky was as blue as the summer sea,

The eddy whirl'd her round and round The depths were cloudless over head,

Before a gorgeous gate, which stood The air was calm as it could be,

Piercing the cloud of smoke, which bound There was no sight or sound of dread,

Its aery arch with light like blood ; But that black anchor floating still

She look'd on that gate of marble clear Over the piny eastern hill.

With wonder that extinguish'd fear. The lady grew sick with a weight of fear,

For it was filled with sculptures rarest To see that Anchor ever hanging,

Of forms most beautiful and strange, And veiled her eyes; she then did hear

Like nothing human, but the fairest The sound as of a din low clanging,

Of winged shapes, whose legions range And looked abroad if she might know

Throughout the sleep of those that are, Was it aught else, or but the flow

Like this same Lady, good and fair. Of the blood in her own veins to and fro.

And as she looked, still lovelier grew There was a mist in the sunless air,

Those marble forms ;--the sculptor sure Which shook as it were with an earthquake's

Was a strong spirit, and the hue shock,

Of his own mind did there endure But the very weeds that blossomed there

After the touch, whose power had braided
Were moveless, and each mighty rock

Such grace, was in some sad change faded.
Stood on its basis stedfastly ;
The Anchor was seen no more on high.

She looked, the flames were dim, the flood

Grew tranquil as a woodland river
But piled around, with summits hid
In lines of cloud at intervals,

Winding throhills in solitude ;

Those marble shapes then seemed to quiver, Stood many a mountain pyramid,

And their fair limbs to float in motion,
Among whose everlasting walls
Two mighty cities shone, and ever

Like weeds unfolding in the ocean.
Thro' the red mist their domes did quiver.

And their lips moved ;-one seemed to speak, On two dread mountains, from whose crest,

When suddenly the mountains crackt,

And thro' the chasm the flood did break
Might seem, the eagle, for her brood,
Would ne'er have hung her dizzy nest,

With an earth-uplifting cataract:
Those tower-encircled cities stood.

The statues gave a joyous scream,

And on its wings, the pale thin dream
A vision strange such towers to see,
Sculptur'd and wrought so gorgeously,

Lifted the Lady from the stream.
Where human art could never be.

The dizzy flight of that phantom pale, And columns framed of marble white,

Waked the fair Lady from her sleep. And giant fanes dome over dome

And she arose, while from the veil Piled, and triumphant gates, all bright

Of her dark eyes the dream did creep, With workmanship, which could not come

And she walked about as one who knew From touch of mortal instrument,

That sleep has sights as clear and true Shot o'er the vales, or lustre lent

As any waking eyes can view. From its own shapes magnificent.

So much for the “ Literary PocketBut still the Lady heard that clang Filling the wide air far away;

Book” 1819. The earth has performAnd still the mist whose light did hang

ed its revolution round the sun, and Among the mountains shook alway, So that the Lady's heart beat fast

that number is no more. What would As half in joy, and half aghast,

we not give for a reading of Mr On those high domes her look she cast.

Leigh Hunt's Literary Pocket-Book Sudden from out that city sprung

for 1819! Could Messrs Olliers get A light that made the earth grow red; Two flames, that each with quivering tongue together a few dozen from villatic

Lick'd its high domes, and over head Among those mighty towers and fanes

and rural manuscribes, they would be Dropped fire, as a volcano rains

very diverting.

Put down our names, Its sulphurous ruin on the plains.

at random, for a dozen copies. And hark! a rush, as if the deep

Literary Pocket-Book" for Had burst its bonds; she looked behind And saw over the western steep

1820 is just published. The lists are A raging flood descend, and wind Thro' that wide vale; she felt no fear,

pretty much the same as formerly But said within herself, 'tis clear

but we believe, both fuller and more These towers are Nature's own, and she To save them has sent forth the sea.

correct. In place of the “ Callendar

of Nature," we have from the pen of And now those raging billows came Where that fair Lady sate, and she

Mr Hunt,“ a Callendar of Observers," Was borne towards the show'ring flame By the wild waves heaped tumultuously,

or specimens of the greater or less And on a little plank, the flow

enjoyment which people derive from of the whirlpool bore her to and fro.

the world they live in, according to The waves were fiercely vomited

the number and healthiness of their From every tower and ev'ry dome, And dreary light did widely shed

perceptions!” The Observers are six O'er that vast flood's suspended foam,

in númber. The Mere Lounger Beneath the smoke which hung its night On the stained cope of heaven's light.

The Mere Man of Business-The Bin

The “



got—The Mere Sportsman-TheMere forth with new strength and sprightliness, Sedentary Liver, and the Observer of the dog scampering about his master in Nature. Mr Hunt tells us, with his hopes he is going towards the fields, and usual cleverness, what each of these hyacinths, narcissuses, and violets in the

green markets : and seeing these, he cancharacters sees in each of the seasons.

not but hasten the faster to see the country. SPRING.

Instead of reading his book at home, he The mere Lounger.-Sees his face in the takes it with him, and sees what the poets glass, and yawns. Sees his tailor, who in describe. He sees the returning blue of forms him that it is spring. Sees several the sky, the birds all in motion, the glanpersons, horses, and suits of clothes in Bond cing showers, the after-laughing sun, the Street. Sees some pretty faces. Sees a maiden blossoms in the gardens, the thick.' great deal of green and white in the milli. ening leafiness of the hedges, the perfect ner's shops, and thinks the country must be young green of the meadows, the bustling getting pretty. Takes a ride round the farm-yards, the far prospects, the near and Regent's Park, and sees Jones.

odorous bowers, the bee bounding forth «The Mere Man of Business. Sees his with his deep song through the lightsome clerks or apprentices up. Sees his custom- atmosphere, the kids leaping, the cattle ers come in all day." Sees their money. placidly grazing, the rainbow spanning the Sees faces occasionally go by. Sees shelves hills in its beauty and power, the showers and bundles all about him. Sees his law. again, the blue sky again, the sun triumphyer and broker.

Sees dinner with briefing over the moisture like bright eyes above transport, just time enough to get an in- dewy lips, the perfumed evening, the gentle digestion. Sees to his accounts in the even- and the virgin moon. Going home, he sees. ing, and endeavours to think himself a every thing again with the united transport happy man. Sees his goods adulterated. of health and imagination, and in his dreams Goes to bed, and sees in his dreams a great

sees his friend and his mistress as happy as pale multitude looking at him, whom he himself. sets down for people he has cheated. Sees himself exposed, and wakes in a trepida- The Mere Lounger.-Goes into the countion. N. B. It is the fumes of indigestion, try to see Jones. Sees Jones. Sees some which in these and other cases inspire a horses. Sees little else in the country but man's dreams with a certain Delphic hor- the absence of town. Is shown a prospect,

and sees in it a considerable resemblance to The Bigot. Sees the sunshine, and a scene at the Opera. Sees a storm, and thinks how happy he and his friends will hopes it won't rain next Wednesday. be in heaven exclusively. Sees a party The Mere Man of Business.-—Is sorry to going towards the country laughing, and see the town so empty. Sees some flowers gaily dressed.

Sees in them only so at the door, but declines buying any, bemany devoted victims to eternal fire ; calls cause he will not give the price asked by a the world a vile world; and sees his debtor half-penny. Sees some new dishes on his sent to prison. Sees the building of his table at dinner, and has a remote notion chapel going on, and counts up his profits, that he enjoys himself. Feels himself half monied and eternal. Sees his servant bring. stifled with the weather, the dust, the close ing in a green goose for dinner ; and says, shop, and repletion ; and sees the pave. with an air of delighted regret, that he ment before his door watered with a tin fears his friend the gun-maker is too late. canister, in liquid lines of refreshment a quill

The Mere Sportsman-Sees a fox. Sees thick. him several times over. Sees a girl's com The Bigot.-Sees the beauty of the counplexion and ancles. Sees his friends all

try, but thinks it wrong to be moved by earthdrunk after dinner.

ly delights, and hastens home to his roast pig. The Mere Sedentary Liver.-Sees his Sees nothing in the world after dinner but a tongue in the glass. Sees the fine weather, fleeting shew. Finds it very hot ; sees a fiery and calls to mind all that the poets have kind of horrid look in the sunshine; and is not said about it. Takes his first walk this quite easy in thinking that ninety-nine hunyear, and sees numberless things, but all dredths of his fellow creatures are to be discoloured and half pleasant. Goes home burnt for ever ; thinks it impious however and sees with delight a new packet of to suppose his Maker too kind to suffer it, books. Reads an account of a man who and comforts himself with callousness. saw a spectre, and almost sees it himself. The Mere Sportsman.-Sees a hare, Goes to bed, and sees in his sleep a vision Sees a friend in a ditch. Does not see him shockingly mixed up of oddity and horror. out. Sees, in a transport of rage, the

The observer of Nature.-Sees the first hounds at fault. Goes to angle, to settle fine spring day and leaps up with transport. his spirits; and with considerable relief, Sees a world full of beauty and pleasure sees several fish drawn gasping out of the even in towns. Sees the young and fair water with a hook in their jaws, and a abroad, and sees their lovely countenances salmon crimped alive. and minds. Sees the white pigeons career. “ The Mere Sedentary Liver.-Sees with įng round the steeple, the horses issuing delight the flowers in his window, and vowe



every day that he will go out the next. your intercourse! He becomes as mute as Sees with an exclamation of regret, while your own delight, when mind " hangs enahe is yet reading, the servant come in moured” over beauty. every day to say dinner is ready. Sees

There can be no doubt that this is motes before his eyes. Sees himself, with great disgust, getting corpulent, which is very lively, but is the classification & very unlike the Greek forms, or the ade good one? Surely not. Nobody wishes mirable Crichton. Sees his friend sick in

to be told what a mere Lounger does bed with staying at home, and wonders how with himself, according to the seaany body can do so. Rouses up the bad sons. Neither do mere Loungers form humours in his blood with one walk instead a class. Their number must be increof twenty, and sees it is hopeless to struggle dibly small. But whether smallor great, with his disorder. Sees more beauties than they are totally and universally uninever in his authors, but a great falling off in teresting; and it is somewhat too the world he so admired when a lad. “ The Observer of Nature

. Sees the early with one from one year's end to the

much to carry their character about sun striking magnificently into the warm mists in the streets, as if it measured them other. The mere Man of Business is with its mighty rule. Sees other effects of still worse. Why obtrude upon our this kind, worthy of the pencil of Canaletto. attention, every day in the year, a Sees a thousand shapes and colours of beau. dull, gross, greedy knave, who adulty as the day advances. Sees the full mul. terates his goods, and would rejoice to titude of summer flowers, with all their become a fraudulent bankrupt? These gorgeous hues of scarlet, purple, and gold ;

are not fitting contemplations for a roses, carnations, and amaranths, wall. flowers, lupins, larkspurs, campanulas, gentleman's Literary Pocket-Book eigolden-rods, orchis, nasturtiums, &c. &c. ther during hot or cold weather. The and the Martagon lily, or Greek hyacinth. Bigot is worse and worse. We all And then he sees the world with a Greek know what Mr Hunt means by bigotsight, as well as his own, and enjoys his ry, and what a very sweeping epithet books over again. And then he sees the it is in his hands. The picture he world in a philosophic light, and then draws is shocking and unnatural. The again in a purely imaginative one, and then in one purely simple and childlike; and better-but he is far too much of a

mere Sedentary Liver is something every way in which he turns the face of nature, he finds some new charm of feature ninny-and we are hurt by finding or expression, something wonderful to ad- him alive all the year through. He mire, something affectionate to love. Sees should have died in autumn at the or fancies in some green and watery spot, very latest, of jaundice, indigestion, the white sheep-shearing. Sees the odo- the liver complaint, and the physician. roue haymaking. Sees the landscape with The Observer of Nature alone, with a more intent perfectness from the silence all his conceit, deserves to live through of the birds. Sees the insects at their the year 1820—but let him look to tangled and dizzy play; and fancies, what his flannel waistcoats, and beware of he well knows, how beautiful they must look, some with their painted or transparent sitting in wet shoes. Mr Hunt (for wings, others with their little trumpets and he draws from himself here) is an airy-nodding plumes. Sees the shady rich. adventurous man, and thinks nothing ness of the trees; the swallows darting of walking from Catharine Street to about like winged thoughts ; the cattle Hampstead in mist or sleet, in magnastanding with cool feet in the water ; the nimous contempt of hackney-coaches. young bathers trailing themselves along It will be a pretty story indeed if the streams, or flitting about the sward Johnny Keates have to write the Calamidst the breathing air. Sees the silver endar of Observers for 1821, and if clouds which seem to look out their way, far through the sky. Sees the bees at Leigh Hunt's name be transferred work in their hurrying communities, or

from the list of living authors to that wandering ones rushing into the honied of “ Eminent Persons in Letters, arms of the flowers. Sees the storm com- Philosophy, and the Arts, whose great ing up in its awful beauty, to refresh the original genius, individual character, or world; the angel-like leaps of the fiery reputation with posterity, has had an following the thunder, like love ushered by opinions of the world. lightning ; and the gentle and full rain influence in modifying the taste and mightiness.

* Divine Nature ! And thou, when the why did not Mr Hunt include our touch of sympathy has made thee wise,

name in the list of living authors. diviner human nature ! how is he stricken We find there “ Hunt, Leigh, Poetry, dumb who would attempt to record the Criticism, Politics, and Miscellanies.” smallest part of the innumerable joys of Now, why not also“ North, ChristoVOL. VI.


By the way


pher, Poetry, Politics, Metaphysics, We will hook å fish for you and Mathematics, Criticism, Travels, Bon back him for his life against the ExMots, and Cookery." We expect to aminer. It is four miles from Loch see this in the Literary Pocket-Book Awe to the Salt Sea of Loch Ericht.for 1821, and thenceforth evermore. The banks of the river Awe are pretty But we had almost forgotten Mr precipitous—and ere you, Mr Leigh Hunt's account of the mere Sportsman. Hunt, have been dancing five minutes It is plain that he knows nothing of over the crags, you will have bitter Nimrod. A tallyho would break the occasion for all your virility, and detympanum of his ear. Were we to voutly wish that the salmon were imagine one thing more ridiculous than crimped, so that he were but off the all the other ridiculous things in this end of your line. What do you think world, it would be the Examiner a of swimming arms of lakes—and fordsteeple-hunting. John Gilpin must ing foamy torrents neck high—and have looked a Castor in comparison crossing wide moors up to the middle with the author of Rimini. Pray, in heather-and scaling mountains who ever heard of following a pack of girdled with granite-and driving your hounds in Summer? Mr Leigh Hunt solitary way through blind mists

, or might as well go a butterfly-hunting roaring blasts, or rain deluges-of rein the dead of winter. For shame, ye turning at midnight to a sheeling op Cockneys ! to pursue, unto the death, the hill laden with spoil, and bowed poor puss and her infant family during down with the weary weight of many the dog-days. And is it, indeed, cus- savage and dreary leagues ? This is tomary, as Mr Leigh Hunt asserts in the nature of Scottish angling-inthis his Literary Pocket-Book, for deed, of all angling that deserves the Cockney sportsmen “ to fly into a name. 'As to old Isaac Walton, hotransport of rage” when the hounds nest man, he used to be a most partiare at fault? a mere sportsman is the cular favourite with Mr Leigh Hunt last man in the world to do that-he —but now he is “a pike in a doublet." is quite cool on such occasions, and The secret cause of all this raving uses the whip with alacrity but discri- against angling and anglers is, that we mination. Then, ye gentlemen of are anglers. Several admirable angEngland, what think you of angling ling articles have appeared in this Mafor salmon in the middle of summer, gazine, and, therefore, Mr Leigh on a sultry afternoon, by way of re- Hunt cannot endure angling. This is freshing yourselves after harriers ? quite pitiful. But it is true. and what think ye of crimping on the Enough of Mr Hunt for the prespot the salmon you thus miraculous- sent, so let us turn to “ Walks round ly ensnare? Oh! Leigh, Leigh, thy London, No I.” a very easy, graceful, lips utter a vain thing, and thy heart and amiable little composition, which conceiveth foolishness! You and o- we could almost suspect to be from ther literary men-poets, critics, and the pen of Mr Cornwall. politicians it is who are, in verity, the crimpers of salmon. The mere sportsman does none of these things. He despiseth the fish, and eateth him “ If we were to judge by the number of not. Thou art the crimper. You handsome country residences, which, within say that angling is not a manly amuse

a few years, have “ risen like exhalations" ment. Why, there is no virility in

on the different roads, the south side of London

would be pronounced the favourite quarter sitting in a punt, with

for the citizens to retire to. But here, as in bobbing over the side, and your nose many other matters of taste, they do not in the water, laying plots against seem to have “ chosen the better part.” On perches, and revelling in the massacre the north of the great city, and at no greater of minnows. Angling is but a sorry distance, there are more situations which pastime in the New River. But come partake of the true country aspect. A few down to Scotland next autumn, when at random may be mentioned—and let a we pitch our tent on Loch Awe side, road from Hampstead to Hendon ; the rural

• Suthron” match them if he can. The and you will then know whether or not angling be a manly amusement. Highgate ; the neighbourhood of Hornsey,

district all round the feet of Hampstead and We will put a twenty-foot-rod into Muswell-hill, Crouch-end, Colney-hatch, your hand, with fifty fathom of line, Southgate ;-the region about Waltham. and a reel as large as a five gallon cask. stow, Wanstead, Highbeach, and Seward


NO. I.

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stone. These are all beautiful, and in a a dell with nothing but grassy mounds on great measure still retain their rural faces, each side-like billows of the sea converted from the reason assigned that they have into green fields. not been spoiled by favouritism. Nor, in- “ If I recollect rightly, by turning to deed, is it likely that they will be ; for the the left upon coming to the next road, we citizen, having a tendency to run upon a shall arrive at that quarter of Southgate Aat, prefers the more level side of London ; which looks towards London. I ought here where he can at once make a greater and to remark, for the benefit of our gig and carmore visible figure among his neighbours, riage acquaintance, that a delightful road go backwards and forwards to town with less strikes off from Muswell-hill through Colneywear and tear to his equipage, and get an Latch to Southgate. Having arrived at the ‘idea or so, when he pleases, from the lives outskirts of the village, we pass Sir William liness' of the dusty roads.

Curtis's farm on the left, and Mr Schneider's “ It is the intention of the Proprietors of handsome mansion on the right. The house this little work to devote a portion of it belonging to the late Chandos family is at every year to the description of Beautiful the entrance of the village from the road; Spots round London, within the reach of and before us is the sign of the Cherry those true lovers of the country-the Pe. Tree, which, in the articles of inns, I radestrians.

ther think will prove Hobson's choice to us. “ From whatever point then we take our Let not the worthy landlord harbour for å start, we must make the best of our way to moment the idea that, from this expression, Hornsey-wood House ; pass the front of it, I mean the least disrespect towards the and skirt the pretty little copse to which it is Cherry Tree-gratitude forbid !- for we are attached. Before us we shall see a sharp bound to be grateful to accessible landlords ascent, which, in our quarter of the island, and amenable landladies. I have breakwe may dignify with the name of a hill. fasted more than once at the Cherry Tree, This, from my ignorance of its real name, I and have a lively recollection of the cream, have hitherto called · Belle-vue :' perhaps the rolls, the ham, and the eggs set before • Fair-look,' or · Fair-view' will be better, me: not to omit the proper Miltonian cli. because it is English. When we have gain. max in the shape of a fair damsel, who ed the summit, a delightful prospect will ministered unto me'-I presume the land. be presented to us, well wooded. Green lord's daughter. I hope, on my own ac. fields intersected with hedges ;--and, wan- count, that she is not married ; unless she dering through them, the New River, which should, by singularly good fortune, have is ever an interesting object, both from its left as gentle a successor in the ministry as resemblance to a natural stream, and from herself. Southgate is a very pretty village ; the blessings it daily dispenses to thousands adorned with the country seats of London of our fellow citizens. Behind us we see gentlemen. This has gained it the title of the whole extent of London-its solid * a mercantile aristocracy :' but do not mind masses of building—its domes and spires. the opinions of the inhabitants upon this The full view of a great city from a neigh- occasion ; they cannot turn the fields into bouring eminence is always impressive.- scarlet cloth, nor the trees into gold lace. We think of the quantity of mind which is The walk from Southgate to Enfield is very at work immediately under our eye :-of lovely—the foot-path much more so than the immense quantity, which for years and the carriage-way : the latter, however, wheyears has been at work, and is gone from ther over the Chase or through Winchmoreus and whither ? • All that mighty heart hill, is quite rural. The former commences is lying still ! This is to me the most immediately from the Cherry Tree-the clinging thought in the world. But we are stile, or gate, is I think contiguous to the to walk, and admire, and enjoy ourselves. house. We pass through a small tract of

“ We descend the hill into Hornsey-lane; ground planted with trees, dignified with thence pass through the burying-ground of the title of Southgate Wood. The proprie. a venerable church, and turn to the left tor, with an eye to economy of ground, through the town; keep the road, and it rather than to taste, has run a path through will bring us to the top of Muswell-hiil.--, it as straight as a plumb-line. I thought Here we have another noble view of London, nothing of this when I used to come to col. with the Kent and Surrey hills in the dis- lect roots of primroses and honeysuckle for tance-Shooter's hill, Banstead-downs, and my little garden, and to cut hockey-sticks. Box-hill. From Muswell-bill there is a I despair of ever being so happy again, foot-path across the fields to Southgate, and notwithstanding the improvenient in my this part of the journey is as beautiful, of its taste. kind, as any lover of the country could wish “ The next village we come to is Winch. it to be. Sometimes you are in an open pasture more-hill, and the foot-path from thence to field, and every wind that sweeps across it Enfield, about a mile and half, is not to tells you of fresh verdure, and of the kine be excelled, I think, by any portion of the ruminating. Sometimes you are wading journey. Having arrived at the point prothrough the yellow rustling corn. Now on posed, for which, I fear, my readers as well the summit of a little hill, overlooking as fellow-walkers will be thankful, allow me quiet and pleasant farms: now suddenly in to recommend your submitting yourselves

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