... SELECTE]D. -NIRS. HAR1IS'S SOLILOQUY WHLE THREAIDING HEl e NEEbLE. t BY LADY DUFFERI. ( '(Frolm FisAers Dralvinie-yRoOe Scrap Book.) n Ah dearv me! what needles! well, really I must say s All things are sadly altered (for the worse too) since my day s The pins have neither heads nor points; tie needles have no eyes, And there's ne'er a pair- of scissors of thle good okd-fashioued size e The ...

... Oil Wedlneslay Btiwee's nielo-draniatic comedy of -1i0eey was played at the Theatre Royal; and the careful exetlitlia- tion of the pie, e, thus by another performance atfoirled ns. but went to strengthen all old conviction that it belotirg to the very lowest class of its althor's imagiunise writlligI. Totally delicient in that meanest vet for a modern comedly indispensable dramatic requisite, ...

... PROSPECTUS OF A NEW TRANSLATION OF J06EPliUS. London: Holliston and Stoneneas. I We learn, from this prospectus, that a new translation of the life and works of the celebrated Jewish historian is aboultt to appear, with notes and pictorial illustrations, Judging from tile specimens here given of the engravings and, letters press, the work promises to be of a very superior character. ...

... I THE MOTHER'S GRAVE. We're kneeling by thy grare, mother; the sun bai left it nov, Aed tinges with its yellow light yon glad hill'e verdant brow Where happy children spart and laugh,with whom we need to play Jutwemay notmingle wlthtlem noxsince thou wert borne away. Ve're driven from home, mother; the home we lov'd so well; Yfe wander hungry, homeless oft, while strangers In it dwell, And ...

... SELECGTED). THE DONINION OF PAIN. BY LAMAN BLANCHARD. In all tbatlive, endure, and die; In every vision of the brain - 'On Love's fondI lip; in Pleasurn 3 ey The hermits pulse, the wario; , yoin In hearts that pause and plunge again' Frail victims of the Passing hour, We find thy far dominions, Pain, We trace the footprints of thy power- Though some are washed away by tears Whilst some survive ...

... IFASHIONS F(It DECELU. I - FASHIO: F Ris m CraDles, Mout- Gauzes ConstantineAtUaJafaOles, DiiU -. selines Lujsa Fernanda, bareges Hayde'e, with organdyst tulles, &C. are the fashionable materials of fall dress; for walking and negligd plaids of every dimension, checked foulards, tafetas chinois in stripes or wares; 1affetai mauves shot with lilac, green to as shot with a different tint of ...

... the On Wednes.lday, ilin/c Aldo about ATothing was represented s; sir, at the Theatre Royal, to an andience far less numerous than IN. might have been deserved by the merit of the perfoirmance, to say nothsing of the matchless fascinations of the drama itself. Benedict was excellently conceived and excellently tents. acted by Mr. Pitt. He played with a light-hearted irre Ve ¶ pressible gaiety ...

... THEATRE, ROYAL. I d Whenever, throughl n long rangle of plays, the dramnatist h is compelled to ftlili anly other condition tham that of bestow- n ! ilg poetic pleasure; whenever, in the subject nutl develope- it m ment of his plot his hands ame, so to speak, colntinually tied, even ?? higlhest geni;;s cant scarcely be expected to produce r a series of works that sball possess enduring ...

... LITERARlY EXAMINER. TURLOGEt O'B~itirs thl Those who delight ill the horrible will be pleased with lie this number. The scene in the dark upper Chamber of the bet 1King's Head, that villanous old tavern to which we have mil been previously introduced, with the fiettl catastrophe wve .reminds one Somewhat of Dirkc Hatterick's fatal struggle Im, with Gilbert Glossim, in Gay aimtesrritg. St th ...

... POEMS and PICTURES, a Collection of Ballads, Songs, and other Poems, with one hundred Illustra- tions on wood, by English Artists. London: James Burns, Portman-street. FISHER'S DRAWING ROOM SCRAP BOOK, 1847; by the lIon. Mrs. Norton. London: Fisher, Son, and Co. FISHER'S JUVENILE SCRAP BOOK; by the author of the Women of England, &c. London: Fisher and Co. PUNCI'S POCKET BOOK. London: ...

... SELE CTED. THE POET OF THE OLDEN TNIME. LY J. ?? LOWELL. In the old days of awre and keell-eyed wouer, The Poets song with blood marim truth Na' rife; lie saw the mysteries which oirl-CE under The outward shell and skin of dalily life. Nothing to himl were fleeting timanfsio His soul was led by the eternal law en:, 1 ilon There was in hirm no hope offlune, no Passion, But, wvith calm, godlike ...

... il ?? i ORIOIAL.) THE HILL OF DEATI. DY JOHS IALSAML. Outsttotch Ittho arms of my vision to scenes *fa brilliant hue, The poearly-wrought laud of my childhood, the mountains of life. giving dew; - The spiy-borne breeze of the east Is wafted along in Its air, While the bloom of the rose in its grandeur would ?? us that health must be thero. No darkening, pent up arena, no volumes of smoke do ...