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Poetry.

In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.

LINES ADDRESSED TO AN ENGLISH LADY, Who had offered the Writer a small branch of ivy from Spenser's Oak, on condition that she would present her with some stanzas in exchange.

META.

I CRAVE it not! Oh! bear to Britain's isle
This green memorial of her poet son;

Thine was the land which hailed his infant smile;
Thine be this token of the gifted one!

I crave it not! we dare not claim as ours
Him who hath sung in his undying lays

Of lovely ladies in enchanted towers,

Of knights and giants, demoisels and fays.

But yet, perchance, his glowing spirit caught
Some inspiration from our mountain air;

And these bright visions which his fancy wrought,
Soften the twilight of his long despair!"

The exile's heart! oh, who can tell its woe?

Fixed, sharp, and changeless through our lengthening years,
The yearning pang-the grief consuming slow,
The full deep sorrow swelling forth in tears!
The exile's heart! O Spenser! such was thine,
Till Fancy came to lighten half thy pain;
Showed thee the wonders hid beneath her shrine,
And named thee foremost in her glittering train.
Her voice the spell which bade thy numbers flow;
Her smile thine earliest and best reward,
As 'neath thine oak, with head reclining low,
Thy languid limbs lay stretched upon the sward.
Thine aged oak! The changeless ivy binds
Those giant arms now crumbling with decay,
And mutely thus the wanderer reminds
How greatness lingers e'er it pass away!
Oh, take the wreath-we never claimed as ours
The poet son thine own proud Albion lent;
Restore the chaplet to those leafy bowers
Where his young days of happiness were spent!
But oh my friend, when others harshly speak,
Tell them of hearts still noble and still true;
Still let thy sympathies their sorrows seek—
Let Erin find an advocate in you!

And as the ivy oft adorns the stem
Of some old mouldering, yet honoured thing,
So let thy love our few frail virtues gem,
And o'er our many faults its mantle fling.

THE YELLOW LEAF.

HENRY J. JOHNS.

THE yellow leaf!--the yellow leaf!
Hath shed upon the woods, again,
A radiance beautiful, but brief,-

A seeming glory, though a stain!
And lo! what tints, of roseate blush,
Amid the clustering foliage glow,
As if, on every tree and bush,

Another Spring were lighting now!
Ah! trust not that alluring hue!

The bloom on Autumn's fading wreath
Is but a hectic flush-too true-
The herald of decay and death!
The spoiler thus permits, awhile,

On beauty's cheek the rose to glow,
But plies, beneath the insidious guile,

With treacherous stealth the work of woe! The yellow leaf! the fading leaf!

In brightness clad, but frail as fair, Proclaims a tale of seasons brief,

And bids thee, thoughtless MAN, prepare!

Miscellaneous.

"I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne.

BREAD.

A Method of saving one-third of wheaten flour, and about 23 per cent. in price, in the manufacture of Bread.

HOMONY is produced from Indian corn. It is the corn coarsely ground, or kibbled, and is thus distinguished from Indian meal flour, which is finely ground. It is sold by provision merchants, at from 201. to 221. per ton, or about 22s. a cwt., if with the addition of carriage (17. per hundred miles), the cost, as nearly as can be calculated, would be 23d. a lb.

Homony has the quality of imbibing from five to seven times its weight of water, which Indian meal flour does not; and this constitutes the important distinction between the two.

The proportion of homony and seconds wheatén flour for good bread is 14 lbs. of homony to a stone (14 lbs.) of flour.

The homony must be soaked sixteen or eighteen hours in cold water before it is cooked.

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No. 89.]

London Magazine:

A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION
FOR GENERAL READING.

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The above sketch represents a mode of tending cattle frequently to be met with in the more remote parts of Germany, where enclosures are not common, and the pasture-lands of the peasantry are not separated from each other and from the corn-fields by regular fences. In the sketch a cow and goat are tied together by a long rope fastened around the horns of each, which a girl holds in the middle, and so prevents either from straying.

VOL. IV.

A VISIT TO THE NEW HOUSES OF

PARLIAMENT.

ONE bright autumnal evening in 1834, towards the fashionable dinner-hour, the indwellers of the metropolis were alarmed by the breaking out of a "conflagration" upon the northern bank of the river, at a spot perhaps dearer in association than any other to every reader of England's history. The wind blew briskly from the south-west; the flames shot up with fearful rapidity; and the crowds of people who clustered upon the bridges and banks soon ascertained the scene of the "great fire" to be the Houses of Parliament at Westminster. "The wind blew briskly from the south-west, but became more southerly as the night advanced; the moon was near the full, and shone with radiance; but occasionally vast masses of cumulus floated high and bright across the skies, and, as the fitful glare of the flames increased, were illumined in a remarkably impressive manner, which gave interest to the busy scene that was preparing

below."

The circumstances of the discovery of the fire we will relate as briefly as possible. At about 6 o'clock, the wife of one of the door keepers, seeing a strongly glittering light under one of the doors, immediately ran to the deputy house-keeper, exclaiming, "Oh, good God, the House of Lords is on fire!" The persons employed about the building were quickly drawn together by the alarm; and a chimney was observed to be "very much on fire." The wind increased in strength; the flames shot through the numerous wood-panelled passages, lobbies, staircases, &c., which formed the communication between the two houses and their offices; and, "in a few hours," says one of the accounts, "notwithstand ing all the aid which could be furnished by fire engines and fire-men, by working parties of soldiers and labour ers, and by the assistance of the police, as well as from the voluntary services of many other persons, including both noblemen and gentlemen (Members of Parliament), the Houses of Lords and Commons and the Painted Chamber were consumed to the bare walls, whilst the more fragile buildings immediately surrounding them were altogether destroyed."

Throughout the might the scene of the fire presented a spectacle strikingly picturesque and impressive. The flames threw a lurid glare upon the fair bosom of the Thames, as well as upon the thousands of spectators crowded in hoats and barges and upon the bridges and banks; at the same time that the atmosphere was lit up for many miles around the metropolis. Landward, the progress of the fire exhibited a tableau vivant of not inferior interest. The Old Palace Yard, and, in the adjacent avenues, the soldiery, in their glittering uniforms, the shouts of the firemen and the clangour of the work ing engines; the rush and roar of the reckless mob, and their yelling, amounting almost to savagery. alike as the flames were checked or fed in their intensity, are even

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Rife, and perfect in our listening ear."

In justice we should observe that the interest attached to the greater portion of the buildings in course of destruction was but understood by comparatively few of the congregated thousands; but every one present must have felt concerned for the fate of the magnificent hall, around which the flames raged fearfully during a considerable part of the night. Happily, the scene of the coronation feasts of our sovereigns for centuries past was preserved unscathed, but not until three o'clock on the following morning was the fire sufficiently subdued to remove apprehensions of further danger.

Next day, the blackened ruins presented a strange reality of a prophetic intimation as to the actual consequence in case of fire, put by Sir John Soane, in the year 1828; who, contemplating the labyrinth of lath

and plaster, which the old buildings presented, observed, "in such an extensive assemblage of combustible materials, should a fire happen, what would become of the Painted Chamber, the House of Commons, and Westminster Hall? Where would the progress of the fire be arrested?"

burning of about two cart loads of wooden tallies, in the The cause of the fire was, in a few days, traced to the furnaces or stoves connected with the flues, which passed beneath the flooring of the House of Lords; the iron pipes and flues by this means became red-hot, and set fire to the floor, as combustible as touch-wood. The tallies, we should explain, were notched wooden sticks, used until October, 1826, in keeping the public accounts of the Treasury; and in destroying the relics of this ancient mode of reckoning, nearly the entire pile of buildings and offices was destroyed; a result which may with propriety be added to the long list of "great events from little causes.'

We have alluded incidentally to the historical interest of the great scene of devastation-" the Palace at Westminster," the residence of our monarchs from Edward the Confessor to Elizabeth, who was its last sovereign inhabitant. After her death the court resided at Whitehall and St. James's; and, as the ancient buildings of Westminster Palace fell into decay, they were removed; or, restored, and converted to other uses. Not only, however, had the Palace been in the long lapse of five centuries and a half a royal residence, but it was the seat of administrative justice, and the domestic government of the kingdom, for nearly eight centuries; or, from the Anglo-Saxon period to the date of the great fire, in 1834. Hence, the system of a great plan of the palace buildings included, besides the "proper house and home" of the Sovereign, the house of prayer, wherein many a ruler knelt to the service of the Most High; and around were clustered the courts of justice, in accordance with the spirit of a feudal age. Upon no other spot of the country would the influence of historical association appear to have been so powerfully concentrated as upon the site of the Westminster Palace. There, amid the smoking ruins, on the morning after the fire, stood the massive walls of "the Painted Chamber," believed to have been the bed-room of Edward the Confesssor, and the scene of his last hours. There, too, happily saved from the flames, was the Hall, the vast state room of the palace, founded by William Rufus, though he was discontented therewith-"it was so lytle." Among the salvage, likewise, was the old Court of Requests, where, in the feudal times, sat the officers authorized to receive petitions of the subjects for justice, or favour from the king. This building had been long used as the House of Peers; whilst the Commons sat within the walls of a splendid chapel, reputed to have been founded by King Stephen, and unquestionably begun to be rebuilt by Edward I., and completed by Edward III. Hence, it belonged to the best age of our architecture: the legislators sat in a timber-structure built within the chapel walls, and the flames of 1834, by destroying the unsightly wooden fabric, (less than half a century old,) laid bare the elegant tracery of the windows, the gorgeous painting, gilding, and sculpture of the walls, and the noble proportions of the crypt; the richly dight skeleton standing amidst the general wreck, a picturesque ruin, and an impressive memorial of the piety of our ancestors, in an age when men vied in the practice of beautiful art to glorify their Maker.

With all this prestige in its favour, it is not surprising

The Exchequer at Westminster, the most ancient revenue

department of the state, with all its complicated machinery of

tallies and checks, was not entirely abolished until the year 1834; when a new oflice for the purpose was opened at the Bank of Eng

land. The tally was a stick about twenty-two inches in length;

in its edge were cut notches to denote the reckoning; and a coun

ter-tally was stripped off, cutting the date line of the transaction; so that identity consisted not only in the wood fitting, but in the halved date and notches corresponding, like a halved bank-note.

whole.

THE NEW HOUSE OF LORDS.

tectural features. As seen from the House Court, the
Externally, the House presents no enriched archi-
exterior shows a low and boldly embattled portion,
resting upon an arcade of flattened arches: this, on
each side, serving as the corridor of the House.
this, the six finely proportioned and traceried windows
of the House are seen; and, between cach, a plain,
massive buttress; the whole crowned with lofty battle-

Above

to find the rebuilding of the Houses of the Legislature | Having thus glanced at the leading features of the upon the original site, a resolution of almost self-sug-plan, we shall procced to describe, from our own careful gestion. The objectors were but few: its lowness was inspection, the portion of the design already completed urged as a plea for change; but the "divinity" which the artistic nucleus of the superb and stupendous hedged the Confessor's chamber, the chapel, and the great hall, proved of paramount influence. Temporary accommodation for the sitting of "the Houses," was provided among the ruins of the fire; but many months elapsed before the plan for rebuilding was matured. This being decided on, ninety-seven sets of designs were furnished in four months; and Mr. Barry was, at length, selected as the successful competing architect, in the spring of 1836. The several designs were publicly exhibited; and well do we remember the elaborate beauty and richness of Mr. Barry's drawings: indeed the vast superiority of his design, bating foreThe public have been admitted by thousands to ingone conclusions, was evident to the most unprofes-spect these finished portions, which consist of the House sional eye. It was, in some respects, different from itself, the lobby to the same, the Victoria Hall, and the the structure as yet completed; but the variations corridors on each side of these apartments. These need not here be pointed out, further than by stating corridors are handsomely panelled and ceiled with oak; that the general character of the design was more castellated than the portion built. With the year 1839 and traceried; the glass is richly diapered; and in the windows are square-headed, divided by mullions, was commenced the excavation for the river wall; labels, running diagonally, the motto Dieu et mon and the building of the wall in March. In 1840, the droit," is many times repeated. At night, these Speaker's House and Parliamentary Offices were be corridors are lighted by gas in branches, and globe gun; but, it was not until the middle of 1841, that lights pendent from the ceiling. They have doors any important progress had been made in the super- opening into the House, with plate-glass panels.

structure.

The New Houses may be described, in plan, as a vast assemblage of buildings, with the intervening courts, covering an area of nine statute acres, with a frontage to the Thames of nearly one thousand feet. In the centre of the plan is a large octagonal hall, communicating, by a corridor and lobby, northward with the House of Commons, and southward with the House of Lords. In a line with the latter is the Victoria Hall and Gallery, for the royal entrance by the Victoria Tower, at the south-west angle of the plan. Flanking the "Houses" and offices are eleven large open courts; St. Stephen's Hall, and the crypt of old St. Stephen's, to be used as a chapel for Divine worship; and old Westminster Hall will form a grand vestibule of entrance to the entire pile. It will comprise fourteen halls, galleries, vestibules, and other apartments, of great capacity and noble proportion; and eight official residences, each a first-rate mansion, that for the Speaker being as large as the Reform Club House. The space between the principal apartments is occupied by open courts, and corridors and lobbies, besides libraries, waiting-rooms, &c. In the river front is a central conference hall,

with committee-rooms and libraries for the Lords and

ments.

The chief entrance to the House is by

THE PEERS' LOBBY.

being divided into a wide central, and two smaller
This is a large and lofty square apartment, each side
compartments, by buttresses, panelled and enriched, and
crowned with demi-angels, bearing shields, with the
Garter and V. R.; and from these angels spring the
spandrils which support the roof. In the centre of each
side is a deeply recessed doorway, the spandrils of
which are enriched with the Tudor rose, portcullis, &c.,
in quatre-foils. The other portion of each side is
divided into arched compartments, within which are
emblazoned the arms of England, Scotland, and Ireland,
which are repeated in the windows flanking the east
and west doorways. The southern door, being the
entrance to the House, is more magnificently dight
than the others; the arch is deeply moulded, and
enriched with roses and leaves in colours, and, imme-
diately over the inner doorway, filled with superb gates,
brass gilt, are the royal arms, of colossal proportions,
in rich colours. The heraldic elaboration of the brass
gates is indescribably beautiful; altogether, they are
the finest specimen of working in metal executed for
many years in this country. At each angle of the
lobby floor, is a lofty brass standard for gas-lights, of
admirable design. The flooring is of encaustic tiles of
heraldic design, and in the centre is a large Tudor
rose and star of brass, and Derbyshire marbles.
The ceiling is divided into compartments by deeply
ribbed and moulded beams, and pendants, richly carved
and gilt; and the spaces between these beams are
smaller squares, on which are painted and gilt roses,
thistles, and shamrocks, with rich foliated ornaments
of red and green; and in the centre of the whole is a
large red and white rose, surmounted by a radiating
nimbus, on a deep blue ground. The entire ceiling
is peculiarly chaste and effective, and rich without
garishness. The mottoes, "Dieu et mon droit," and
"Domine salvam fac Reginam," are variously repeated

Commoners, Speaker and Black Rod Usher's apartments,
&c.; the whole plan numbering between five and six
hundred distinct rooms. The principal external features
will be the Victoria Tower already named, now built
to the height of ninety feet, and to be raised to four
hundred feet; the Clock Tower, at the Westminster
Bridge end; and the tower of the octagon or Central
Hall; besides the towers in the river front. The
exterior is of hard magnesian limestone, from Bolsover,
in Nottinghamshire; and the interior of Caen stone,
The main beams and joists are of iron throughout, and
the several buildings are fire-proof. The style of the
architecture is florid Gothic: we have not, however,
space to detail its picturesque enrichments
its
canopied niches with statuettes of crowned sovereigns,
mitred churchmen, and sainted women; its thirty-five
shields of arms of the sovereigns of England; its multi-throughout the noble apartment.
tudinous badges, religious and loyal inscriptions; its
richly gilt wind vanes, and erect-tiles, noble windows,
massive arches, and the numberless embellishments
with which the whole pile may be said to bristle. The
style employed may be best described in the architect's
own words:"It has been his aim to avoid the ecclesi-
astical, collegiate, castellated, and domestic styles, and
to select that which he considers better suited to the
peculiar appropriation of the building."

The principal entrance to

THE HOUSE

is by the brass gates. It is a right regal chamber, in proportion, arrangement, and decoration; ninety feet in length, forty-five in breadth, and of the same height. In plan the House is divided into three parts, the northern and southern being considerably smaller than the centre, or body, of the House, wherein are the

woolsack, clerks' tables, &c.; and on either side the seats for the peers, in rows. At the southern end is the royal throne; and at the northern the bar. On each side of the chamber are six large and lofty windows, to be filled with stained glass, representing the kings and queens of England. At each end are three archways, corresponding with the windows; on the surface of the wall within these arches frescoes will be painted; the arch over the throne being already filled by Mr. Dyce's fresco of "the Baptism of St. Ethelbert." The archways at the northern end are very deeply recessed, thus affording space for the strangers' gallery; below which is the reporters' gallery. Between the windows and arches are eighteen canopied niches, in which will be placed statues of the eighteen barons who wrested Magna Charta from King John. The demi-angels, pillars, pedestals, canopies, quatre-foils in the spandrils, &c., are all gilded, and the interiors of the niches are elegantly diapered. Around the House is a narrow gallery, with an elegant brass-gilt enclosure. Below the windows the walls are lined with oak panelling, elaborately wrought: its details include V. R., with an oak wreath and cord intertwining; ogee arches, crockets, and finials; portrait-busts of all the kings of England; "God save the Queen," in Tudor characters; and a pierced brattishing of trefoils, beautifully executed. The covered portion, immediately beneath the gallery, is richly emblazoned with the arms of the various Lord Chancellors of England.

The ceiling is flat, and is divided into eighteen large compartments by bold tie-beams, on each of which is sculptured, and twice repeated, "Dieu et mon droit;" and these beams being pierced aid the ventilation. The eighteen compartments are again divided by smaller beams into four, having in their centres lozenge-formed compartments. These sub-divisions are filled with devices and symbols, indicating the royal monogram, and the monograms of the Prince of Wales and Prince Albert; the cognizances of the white hart, the lion, the crown in a bush, the falcon, the dragon, and the greyhound, the lion passant of England, the lion rampant of Scotland, and the harp of Ireland, besides sceptres, crowns, scales of justice, mitres and crosiers, blunted swords of mercy, the Prince of Wales's plume, and floriated emblems too numerous for us to particularise; they are elaborately executed in colours and gilding; so minute in detail that an opera-glass is requisite to appreciate all their beauties.

The Bar is of oak, intricately carved, and crowned with bold figures of the lion and unicorn holding shields; and some of the panels have an elaborate treillage of vine, oak, rose, and thistle; and at the angles are badges of the royal houses of England.

The floor is carpeted with bright blue, spotted with roses of gold colour; the woolsack is crimson; and the clerks' table is of oak, exquisitely carved. Around the House are noble brass branches, with coronal tops, for gas-lights; and at each end of the peers' seats is a superb and lofty candelabrum, twelve and a half feet high, for wax-lights-a beautiful specimen of metal work. (To be continued.)

FRANK FAIRLEGH;

OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES.1

CHAP. V.

WOMAN'S A RIDDLE.

DON'T you consider Fairlegh to be looking very thin and pale, Miss Saville?" inquired Coleman, when we joined the ladies after dinner, speaking with an air of such genuine solicitude, that any one not intimately acquainted with him would have imagined him in

(1) Continued from p. 148.

earnest. Miss Saville, who was completely taken in, answered innocently,

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'Indeed, I have thought Mr. Fairlegh much altered since I had the pleasure of meeting him before;" then, glancing at my face with a look of unfeigned interest, which sent the blood bounding rapidly through my veins, she continued :—“You have not been ill, I hope?" I was hastening to reply in the negative, and to enlighten her as to the real cause of my pale looks, when Coleman interrupted me by exclaiming

"Ah! poor fellow, it is a melancholy affair. In those pale cheeks, that wasted, though still graceful form, and the weak, languid, and unhappy, but deeply interesting, tout ensemble, you perceive the sad results of-am I at liberty to mention it-of an unfortunate attachment."

"Upon my word, Freddy, you are too bad," exclaimed I, half angrily, though I could scarcely refrain from laughing, for the pathetic expression of his countenance was perfectly irresistible. "Miss Saville, I can assure you-let me beg of you to believe, that there is not a word of truth in what he has stated."

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Wait a moment, you're so dreadfully fast, my dear fellow! You won't allow a man time to finish what he is saying," remonstrated my tormentor, "attachment to his studies, I was going to add, only you interrupted me."

"I see I shall have to chastise you before you learn to behave yourself properly," replied I, shaking my fist at him playfully; "remember, you taught me how to use the gloves at Dr. Mildman's, and I have not quite forgotten the science even yet."

"Hit a man your own size, you great big monster you," rejoined Coleman, affecting extreme alarm; "Miss Saville, I look to you to protect me from his tyranny; ladies always take the part of the weak and oppressed." "But they do not interfere to shield evil-doers from the punishment due to their misdemeanours," replied Miss Saville, archly.

"There now," grumbled Freddy, "that's always the way; every one turns against me; I'm a victim, though I have not formed an unfortunate attachment for-any thing or any body."

"I should like to see you thoroughly in love for once in your life, Freddy," said I; "it would be as good as a comedy."

"Thank ye," was the rejoinder, "you'd be a pleasant sort of fellow to make a confidant of, I dare say:-here's a man now, who calls himself one's friend, and thinks it would be as good as a comedy' to witness the display of our noblest affections, and would have all the tenderest emotions of our nature laid bare, for him to poke fun at-the barbarian!"

"I did not understand Mr. Fairlegh's remark to apply to affaires du cœur in general, but simply to the effects likely to be produced in your case, by such an attack," observed Miss Saville, with a quiet smile.

"A very proper distinction," returned I; "I see that I cannot do better than leave my defence in your hands."

"It is quite clear that you have both entered into a plot against me," rejoined Freddy; "well, never mind, mea virtute me involvo: I wrap myself in a proud consciousness of my own immeasurable superiority, and despise your attacks."

"I have read, that to begin by despising your enemy is one of the surest methods of losing the battle," replied Miss Saville.

"Oh! if you are going to quote history against me, I yield at once-there is nothing alarms me so much as the sight of a blue-stocking," answered Freddy.

Miss Saville proceeded to defend herself with much vivacity against this charge, and they continued to converse in the same light strain for some time longer; Coleman, as usual, being exceedingly droll and amusing, and the young lady displaying a decided talent for delicate and playful badinage. In order to enter con amore into this style of conversation, we must either be

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