that pride

Howe'er disguised inits own majesty,

Is littleness; that he who feels contempt

For any living thing, hath faculties

Which he hath never used; that thought with him

Is in its infancy. The man whose eye

Is ever on himself, doth look on one,

the straight path; such a light extinguished, though sometimes flaming to dazzle and to bewilder. One word on this ungrateful subject ere we quit it for

ever.

move

The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds
Unlawful ever. O, be wiser, thou!
Instructed that true knowledge leads to love,
True dignity abides with him alone
Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
Can still suspect, and still revere himself,
In lowliness of heart."

EDGAR.

not committed the anomaly of uniting to such extraordinary talents an imperfect, moral sense, nor from feelings dead to the admiration of virtue. No man had ever a kinder heart for sympathy, or a more open hand for the relief of distress; and no mind was ever more formed for the enthusiastic admiration of noble ac

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.

THE following warm-hearted tribute to the memory of Lord Byron, by an individual who ranked next to him as a poet, is a proof how much liberality is allied to true genius:

Amidst the general calmness of the political atmosphere, we have been stunned, from another quarter, by one of those death-notes which are pealed at intervals, as from an archangel's trumpet, to awaken the soul of a whole people at once. Lord Byron, who has so long and so amply filled the highest place in the public eye, has shared the lot of humanity. His lordship died at Missolonghi, on the 19th of April. That mighty genius, which walked amongst men as something superior to ordinary mortality, and whose powers were beheld with wonder, and something approaching to terror, as if we knew not whether they were of good or of evil, is laid as soundly to rest as the poor peasant whose ideas never went beyond his daily task. The voice of just blame and of malignant censure are

the actors had proceeded on disinterested principles. Lord Byron was totally free from the curse and degradation of literature,-its jealousies we mean, and its envy; but his wonderful genius was of a nature which disdained restraint, even when restraint was most wholesome. When at school, the tasks in which he excelled were those only which he undertook voluntarily; and his situation as a young man of rank, with strong passions, and in the uncontrolled enjoyment of a considerable fortune, added to that impatience of strictures or coertion which was natural to him. As an author, he refused to plead at the bar of criticism ; as a man, he would not submit to be morally amenable to the tribunal of public opinion. Remonstrances from a friend, of whose intentions and kindness he was secure, had often great weight with him; but there were few who could venture on a task so difficult. Reproof he endured with impatience, and reproach hardened him in his error, so that he often resembled the gallant war-steed, who rushes forward on the steel that

wounds him. In the most painful crisis of his private life, he evinced this irritability and impatience of censure in such a degree, as almost to resemble the noble victim of the bull-fight, which is more maddened by the squibs, darts, and petty annoyances of the unworthy crowds beyond the lists, than by the lance of his nobler, and so to speak, his more legitimate antagonist. In a word, much of that in which he erred was in bravado and scorn of his censors, and was done with the motive of Dryden's despot, "to shew his arbitrary power." It is needless to say that his was a false and prejudiced view of such a contest; and if the noble bard gained a sort of triumph, by compelling the world to read poetry, though mixed with baser matter, because it was his, he gave in return, an unworthy triumph to the unworthy, besides deep sorrow to those whose applause, in his cooler moments, he most valued.

It was the same with his politics, which on several occasons assumed a tone menacing and contemptuous to the constitution of his country; while, in fact, Lord Byron was in his own heart sufficiently sensible, not only of his privilege as a Briton, but of the distinction attending his high birth and rank and was peculiarly sensitive of those shades which constitute what is termed the manners of a gentleman. Indeed, notwithstanding his having employed epigrams, and ali the petty war of wit, when such would have been much better abstained from, he would have been found, had a colli sion taken place between the aristocratic parties in the state, exerting all his energies in defence of that to which he naturally belonged. His own feeling on these subjects he has explained in the very last canto of Don Juan; and they are in entire harmony with the opinions which we have seen expressed in his correspondence, at a moment when matters appeared to approach a serious struggle in his native country :—

"He was as independent---ay, much more,

Than those who were not paid for independence;

As common soldiers, or a common------Shore, Have in their several acts or parts ascendence O'er the irregulars in lust or gore,

Who do not give professional attendance. Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager To prove their pride, as footmen to a beggar." We are not, however, Byron's apologists, for now, alas! he needs none. His excellencies will now be universally acknowledged, and his faults (let us hope and believe) not remembered in his epitaph. It will be recollected what a part he has sustained in British literature since the first appearance of "Childe Harold,"

a space of nearly sixteen years. There has been no reposing under the shade of his laurels, no living upon the resource of past reputation; none of that coddling and petty precaution which little authors call" taking care of their fame." Byron let his fame take care of itself. His foot was always in the arena, his shield hung always in the lists; and although his own gigantic renown increased the difficulty of the struggle, since he could produce nothing, however great, which exceeded the public estimates of his genius, yet he advanced to the contest again and again and again, and came always off with distinction, almost always with complete triumph. As various in composition as Shakspeare himself (this will be admitted by all who are acquainted with his "Don Juan,") he has embraced every topic of human life, and sounded every string on the divine harp, from its slightest to its most powerful and heart-astounding tones. There is scarce a passion or a situation which has escaped his pen; and he might be drawn, like Garrick, between the weeping and the laughing muse, although his most powerful efforts have certainly been dedicated to Melpomene. His genius seemed as prolific as various. The most prodigal use did not exhaust his powers, nay, seemed rather to increase their vigour. Neither "Childe Harold,' nor any of the most beautiful of Byron's carlier tales, contain more exquisite morsels of poetry than are to be found scattered through the cantos of "Don Juan,' amidst verses which the author appears to have thrown off with an effort as spontaneous as that of a tree resigning its leaves to the wind. But that noble tree will never more bear fruit or blossom! It has been cut down in its strength, and the past is all that remains to us of Byron. We can scarce reconcile ourselves to the idea scarce think that the voice is silent for ever, which, bursting so often on our ear, was often heard with rapturous admiration, sometimes with regret, but always with the deepest interest :

"All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest." With a strong feeling of awful sorrow, we take leave of the subject. Death creeps upon our most serious as well as is a reflection solemn and gratifying, that upon our most idle employments; and it he found our Byron in no moment of levity, but contributing his fortune and hazarding his life, in behalf of a people only endeared to him by their past glories, and as fellow-creatures suffering unhave fallen in a crusade for freedom and der the yoke of a heathen oppressor. To

humanity, as in olden times it would have been an atonement for the blackest crimes, may in the present be allowed to expiate greater follies, than even exaggerated calumny has propagated against Byron.

The Selector;

OR,

CHOICE EXTRACTS FROM NEW WORKS.

ANECDOTE OF BURKE.

WALKING home late one evening from the House of Commons, Mr. Burke was accosted by one of those unfortunate women who linger out existence in the streets, with solicitations, which, perceiving they were not likely to have effect, she changed her manner at once, and begged assistance in a very pathetic and seemingly sincere tone. In reply to inquiries made, she stated herself to have been lady's maid in a respectable family, and being seduced by her mistress's son, had at length been driven, through gradations of misery, to her present forlorn state; she confessed herself to be wretched beyond description, and looked forward to death as her only relief. The conclusion of the tale brought Mr. Burke to his door: turning round with much solemnity of manner, he addressed her: " Young woman, you have told a pathetic story, whether true or not is best known to

yourself; but tell me, have you a settled and serious wish to quit your present way of life, if you have the opportunity of so doing?"" Indeed, Sir, I would do any thing to quit it."" Then come in," was the reply. "Here, Mrs. Webster," said he to the housekeeper, who lived in the family for about 30 years, "here is a new recruit of the kitchen; take care of her for the night, and let her have every thing suitable to her condition, till we can in

form Mrs. Burke of the matter." She remained a short time under the eye of the family, was then provided with a place, and turned out afterwards a well-behaved woman.-Prior's Life of Burke.

ESQUIMAUX TRAFFIC.

A VERY singular custom prevails amongst the Esquimaux in concluding the most trifling bargain; for no sooner have they received an article in exchange for their goods, than it is instantly applied to the tongue, and licked several times previous to being put away in security. What ever might be the article given, even if a sharp razor, the bargain was not concluded

until it had gone through the above ceremony; and I frequently shuddered at seeing the children draw a razor over their tongue as unconcerned as if it had been an ivory paper-knife. We had a convincing proof of the importance attached to the above custom, in one poor woman whom I detected going over the side with an ice-axe upon her shoulder, which, fancying she had stolen it, I ordered to be taken from her. This she loudly and firmly resisted, crying bitterly, and looking anxiously round for the person from whom she had received it, making signs that it had been given in exchange for a very handsome seal-skin jacket which she had been observed to wear, and at the same time licking every part of the axe, to show it had been a bargain. By this we were convinced that some one had

been despicable enough to give this poor creature an article which he knew would be taken from her again. When a button or other trifle was given as a present, without demanding an exchange, it did not receive the customary licking. Nothing can equal the eagerness for barter evinced by these savages, or the frenzy they exhibited to possess a nail or any other trifle. To describe the various modulations of their screams of joy or anxiety would be absolutely impossible. We, however, in the general confusion, were of opinion, that the word used for barter was "Chí bo;" for it was repeated in every key to which the human voice can be raised. "Pille tay" was also clamorously and frequently repeated; and we had no doubt that it implied "give me," all ages and sexes being most indefatigable beggars. They were, how ever, traders as long as they had any stock. From the men we purchased oil, weapons, and ivory; the women supplied us with skins, ornaments, little pouches, &c.; and from the children were procured small toys and models, their parents directing them in their bargains and beggings also. There was one little child, who, having no merchandize to dispose of, ran about holding up the red legs of a dovekie, in hopes that their colour might attract a customer; but meeting with no success, the poor little trader was returning disconsolate to his mother, when a button which I gave him put the poor child quite into raptures, and underwent more kissing than button ever received before.

Both sexes eagerly sold their clothes, and some went away nearly naked, not withstanding the severity of the weather. I must, however, say, in justice to the softer sex, that they were more correct in the choice of what parts of their clothing

they would dispose of, than the men; for I do not remember to have seen a single ady part with her breeches, while the gentlemen were by no means so scrupulous, and evinced no shame at appearing nearly naked.

A nail was considered a fair equivalent for a spear with ivory head, and with line and bladder attached to it. Small pieces of iron hoop were equally valuable; and a knife might purchase any article. Saws, however, were the most eagerly inquired for; and, had any been produced at first, nothing else would have been taken. In all exchanges, the natives showed as much joy as if they had acquired the greatest riches, although, in many instances, they were losers by the bargain.-Captain Lyon's Private Journal.

THE AUDIENCE AND THE

VISIT.

The following article is from the No me Olvides, or Spanish" Forget me not." For the translation we are indebted to the Literary Chronicle.]

POSSESSED with a mania for projects and speculations, after having wasted all my patrimony in plans, morals, memorials, experiments, and schemes, I arrived at a certain metropolis (which I do not deem it prudent to name), with a plan of such vast importance and so feasible, that I conceived the government could do no less than furnish me with funds sufficient to carry it into execution, and that the nation would erect statues in honour of me, in every public place. My project was to unite two rivers by means of a navigable canal, which would not only greatly facilitate the communication between different provinces, and render considerable districts more fertile, but likewise extend commerce, promote navigation, and quadruple agricultural produce; in short, the reign of Saturn was to return once more upon the earth, attended with all those blessings which, with their usual veracity, poets have delighted to attribute to it. As I yielded to no former projector in the grandeur of my schemes, so was I behind hand with none in disinterestedness and generosity; for, in return for these public advantages, 1 demanded nothing-absolutely nothing, for myself. All that I required was, that government should advance me capital for the undertaking, and should give me the exclusive privilege of collecting the tolls and duties arising from the canal; than which nothing can assuredly be more reasonable, since we ought all of us to live by our own labours and I have read in some writer on political economy, that

a man's ideas are as much his own property as an estate or any other possession. I applied myself most studiously to carry my project into execution: I drew up a memorial, formed estimates and maps, and, thus prepared, presented myself at the minister's, of whom I requested an audience. At first, I had to address myself to a porter, who was not particularly affable or civil; next to an attendant, who seemed to think himself very condescending in even noticing me; and then to a secretary, who spoke only in monosyllables. At length, after repeated visits and applications, I obtained the desired interview, at which I presented myself with all the confidence of one who is already sure of success. I was so fortunate as to be ordered to read my memorial, which I forthwith did, in an emphatic tone of voice, while his excellency continued to play with a little terrier. As soon as I had finished reading, the following dialogue took place :-"Your project is utterly impracticable; nothing can be made of it.""If your lordship would be so kind as to tell me your reasons for thinking so- "My reasons! there is no occasion for reasoning about it. I tell you it will not do."_"Yet I flatter myself "To no purpose. In the first place, an exclusive privilege cannot be granted.""Yet, in a project of such vast utility- ____“In the next place, these two rivers are dry nearly half the year."_"But I had been informed"Lastly, the canal would touch upon the royal park, and his majesty is passionately fond of game, which would thus be scared away.' "This last reason is an allsufficient one. I now abandon the plan altogether, and beg your lordship to excuse me."

I returned home, struck with admiration of his excellency's extensive information on all that related to the subject, and of his zeal for the interests of his king; and having deposited my papers in my portfolio, went to the opera. I had hardly entered the house, when I perceived the handsome Marchioness. in her box, to whom I had been introduced some months before at Paris, and whom I knew to possess considerable influence with diplomatists, ministers, marshals, and journalists. I immediately went to her, and related my adventure. On hearing my story, the marchioness laughed heartily, telling me, however, at the same time, not to be discouraged, as the minister was a particular friend of hers, and that every thing should be arranged to my wishes. "Obtain for me, then, another audience"-"By no means," returned the marchioness, “but

you shall make him a visit. Come to me to-morrow evening, at nine o'clock; and leave the rest to me."

Accordingly, the following evening I was punctual to the hour, having dressed myself suitably to the occasion. We got into the marchioness's carriage, and drove to the minister's, where the attendants received us as the intimate friends of his excellency. Scarcely had we entered the saloon, when my protectress took the minister aside, and when the conference was ended, he condescended to call me to him, and the following dialogue took place:-"Well, Sir, and how does your plan go on ?". "Very badly, your excellency. The difficulties which I perceive will attend its execution- "Leave all preamble, and tell me at once what these great difficulties are."- "In the first place an exclusive privilege cannot be granted.' "To be sure we do not grant them on every occasion, but when a man of merit and a most useful project are concerned, there will be no difficulty in this respect."" And then, as the rivers are apt to be dried up- "Who can possibly have told you such an idle story. They actually overflow every year, and occasion great damage by doing so." "Yet his majesty is so passionately fond of game"Aye, on the table, -but he has never, in all his life, even handled a fowling-piece. No, sir, these are idle objections. There is no difficulty whatever in the business. See my secretary in the morning, and he will adjust every thing.'

In fact, I waited the next day on that personage, whom I found most eager to serve me the attendant before of whom I before complained was most courteous, and even the porter seemed to have been studying politeness. In short, the project obtained the requisite sanction; and when I went to thank the marchioness for her kind services, not forgetting an elegant cachemire shawl and a diamond necklace, as trifling marks of my gratitude; she laughed heartily, and said, you now know the difference there is between an Audience of, and a Visit to,

a great man.

SPIRIT OF THE

Public Journals.

GREAT CAVERN IN NORTH AMERICA.

THERE has been lately discovered, on the northern bank of the Black River, in the grounds of Mr. Bayze, opposite the

village of Watertown, Massachusetts, in the United States, an extraordinary cavern, the entrance to which is about 600 paces from the river. A traveller, who has descended into it, details the following particulars :--

Our first advance is by a path that has been dug five feet below the surface of the adjacent soil; there is then a descent, to a depth of sixteen feet and a half, to arrive at the first chamber, which is twenty feet long by sixteen broad. Opposite the entrance is a large flat stone or table, formed by a rock: it is from twelve to fourteen feet square, and two feet in thickness. Enormous stalactites descend from the vault to this stone. On the left is a vaulted path, 150 feet in length; and on the right another vaulted path, six feet broad, and as many in height, leading to a considerable chamber. Proceeding in this direction, we come to a hall a hundred feet long, by ten broad, varying in its height from eight to five feet. The vault is supported by columns and arcades, and the sides are covered with stalactites as white as snow, folded variously, like rich silver stuffs of elegant drapery. Towards the middle of this hall, facing the entrance, is an arched door-way, through which we pass into another large hall, which, like the former, is embellished with crystallizations.

Returning to the great hall, we enter, through another arcade, into an endless number of partitions, communicating with each other, and filled with stalactites. After this suite of apartments, there is a descent of ten feet; here we find a chamber of about twenty feet square, and twelve in height. In a corner of it is a small elevation, twelve feet in diameter, and three in height; the top is hollowed, and filled with water, which drops from the stalactites. Leaving this chamber, we enter a large gallery, where there is another basin filled with limpid water.

The number and extent of the compartments, the beauty of the stalactites that cover the walls,-the numberless crystallizations of the vault, distilling or dropping water, the columns of spath resting on pedestals, that seem cut out artificially to support them, the reverberation of the lights, the various forms produced by the crystallizations, combined to give a magical effect to this wonderful cavern, and render it one of the most magnificent spectacles any where to be

seen.

When first discovered, it attracted crowds of visitors to Watertown ; but as many made free with what they found, breaking off and carrying away pieces of its contents, the proprietor blocked up the