"Solicitor, of Lambeth. Have you lost any thing beside your watch, Sir?'

"I am nor aware-lost-any-arrickle - prorrery,' says Mr. Bat.

'The Inspector has been looking at the watch.

"What do you value this watch at, Sir?'

"Ten pound,' says Mr. BAT, with unexpected promptitude.

"Hardly worth so much as that, I should think.'

"Five pound five,' says Mr. BAT. 'I doro how much. I'm not par-tick-ler (this word costs Mr. BAT a tremendous effort) abow the war. It's not my war. It's a frez of my.'

"If it belongs to a friend of yours, you would n't like to lose it, I suppose??

"I doro,' says Mr. BAT, 'I'm nor any ways par-tick-ler abow the war. It's a frez of my;' which he afterward repeats, at intervals, scores of times-always as an entirely novel idea. 'Inspector writes. Brings charge-sheet to window. Reads same to Mr. BAT.

"You charge this woman, Sir, (her name, age, and address have been previously taken,) with robbing you of your watch. I won't trouble you to sign the sheet, as you are not in good writing order. You'll have to be here this morning- -it's now two- at a quarter before ten.' "Never get up till har par,' says Mr. BAT, with decision.

"You'll have to be here this morning,' repeats the Inspector decidedly, at a quarter before ten. If you don't come, we shall have to send for you, and that might be unpleasant. Stay a bit. Now, look here. I have written it down. Mr. BAT to be in Bow-street, quarter before ten.'' "What mawrer is it?' says Mr. BAT, staggering back again. 'T'-morrow mawrer?' "Not to-morrow morning. This morning."

"This mawrer?' says Mr. BAT. How can it be this mawrer? War is awr this abow?' They take him away, but after a while he comes back again, and interrupts the examination and complaints of other parties, with:

"I say! Is it t'-morrow mawrer?' asks Mr. BAT, in confidence.

"He has got out of the cab,' says the Inspector, whom nothing surprises, and will be brought in, in custody, presently. No; this morning. Why don't you go home?'

This mawrer!' says Mr. BAT, profoundly reflecting. How car it be this mawrer? It must be yesserday mawrer.'

You had better make the best of your way home, Sir,' says the Inspector.

"No offence is interrer,' says Mr. BAT. 'I happened to be passing this direction-whensaw door open-kaymin. It's a frez of my-I am nor- He is quite unequal to the word 'particular' now, so concludes with, you no war 1 me!- I'm aw ri! I shall be here in the mawrer!' and stumbles out again.'

This is quite equal to, if indeed it does not excel, the drunken scene in ‘DAVID COPPERFIELD.' THE lines entitled 'It is her Angel' may appear in our next; but they strike us as having been at least suggested by a beautiful poem of LONGFELLOW's, written for these pages, and as being not unlike these admirable lines of LOWELL upon the death of his little daughter:

'I HAD a little daughter,

And she was given to me

To lead me gently onward

To the Heavenly FATHER's knee.

'I know not how others saw her,

But to me she was wholly fair,

And the light of the heaven she came from
Still lingered and gleamed in her hair.

'She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth,
And it hardly seemed a day,

When a troop of wandering angels
Stole my little daughter away.

'But they left in her stead a changeling,
A little angel child,

That seems like her bud in full blossom,
And smiles as she never smiled.

'This child is not mine, as the first was,

I cannot sing it to rest,

I cannot lift it up fatherly,

And bless it upon my breast.

"Yet it lies in my little one's cradle,

And sits in my little one's chair,
And the light of the heaven she's gone to
Transfigures its golden hair.'

IT is MONTAIGNE who says-and we wish all those concerned' would remember it—that a tutor should not be continually thundering instruction into the ears of his pupil, as if he were pouring it through a funnel; but, after having put the lad, like a young horse on a trot before him, to observe his paces, and see what he is able to perform, should, according to the extent of his capacity, induce him to taste, to distinguish, and to find out things for himself; sometimes opening the way, at other times leaving it to him to open; and by abating or increasing his own pace, accommodate his precepts to the capacity of his pupil. .. NEXT to the view from the Kaätskill Mountain-House, in variety, beauty, and vast extent, we know of nothing superior to a view which may be taken, any pleasant day, from the rustic tower recently erected amidst the umbrageous grove that crowns the apex of the 'Rockland Cemetery,' near Piermont. The ascent, by a winding wood-path, redolent of sweet

forest-odours, is gradual and pleasant, and the distance is scarcely a mile and a half frong the Piermont 'platform.' On the east, Long-Island Sound, sprinkled with gliding vessels, rolls away in the distance; nearer by, are seen the green islands that gem the East River, near and beyond Hell-Gate; at the, south rises the canopy of smoke that indicates, and always overhangs, the 'Great Metropolis,' with the paleblue heights of Staten-Island faintly seen beyond. South-west, Newark bay, the city, 'Snake-Hill,' like a sleeping elephant, the Hackensack, Passaic, the villages of Patterson, Hackensack, Aquackanock, and other places, including Tappaän, and the spot where ANDRE was executed, may be commanded at a glance. On the west, the view, toward the going down of the sun, is superb! Far off rise the picturesque Ramapo mountains, but far and farther still beyond them, swells up the great Shawangunk range, beyond which, 'great rivers seek the sea;' while on the north, 'Nature's boulders,' the West-Point Highlands, bound the view, 'with pleasant vales scooped out, and villages between.' We lingered long upon the tower, and very loath were we to leave it at last. Over against us lay the pleasant villages that line the eastern shore of the Tappaän-Zee. There was 'DOBB his Ferry,' where aforetime so many agreeable hours were passed; and there, at that moment, could be seen, with a good glass, a friend of our boyhood as of our later manhood, walking down a lawn of softest green, and amidst grounds of rarest culture; a friend

"WHOSE kindness long ago,

And still unworn away by years,
Has often made our eye-lids flow
With grateful and admiring tears.'

But the 'round red sun' drops below the distant Shawangunk; the Ramapo mountains melt into deep purple; the 'glimmering landscape' between begins to fade from the sight; and the chill air 'a solemn stillness holds.' We must needs depart hence. HORACE GREELEY, of the 'Tribune' daily journal, now abroad, in his first letter from on board the 'BALTIC' steamer, gives a sad, heart-rending and stomach-rending account of the horrors of sea-sickness; but he does n't come within stone's throw of 'CHAWLS YELLOWPLUSH' in depicting the agonies of the real nauseamarina. 'Hark till him,' as PAT says:

'GENTLE reader, av you ever been on the otion? 'The sea, the sea, the hopen sea!' as BARRY CROMWELL says. As soon as we entered our little vessel, and I'd looked to master's luggitch and mine, (mine was rapt up in a wery small handcherker,) as soon, I say, as we entered our little wessel; as soon as I saw the waivs, black and frothy, like fresh-drawn porter, a-dashin' against the ribbs of our galliant bark; the keal, like a wedge, a-splittink the billoes in two; the sails a-flappink in the hair; the standard of Hengland floatin' at the mask-head; the steward a-gittin' ready the basins and things; the capting proudly treadin' the deck, and givin' orders to the sailers; the white rox of Albany and the bathin'-masheens disappearin' in the distans then, then I felt, for the first time, the mite, the madgisty of xistence ! YELLOWPLUSH, my boy,' says I, in a dialog with myself, your life is about to commence; your carear, as a man, dates from your entrans on board this packit! Forgit what's past; throw off your inky clerk's jacket-throw up your

'Here, I recklect, I was obleeged to stopp. A feelink, in the fust place singlar, in the next place paneful, and at last compleatly overpowerink, had come upon me while I was a-makin' the abuff speech, and I now found myself in a sityouation which Delixy for Bids to dixcribe. Suffis to say, that now I discovered what Basins was made for; that for many, many hours I lay in a hagony of exostion, dead to all intence and porpuses; the rain patterink in my face, the sailers a-tramplink over my body- the panes of purgertory goin' on inside!'

'YOUNG KNICK.' has just come in, 'in the gloaming,' to tell us what a delightful season he has spent to-day at the Annual Pic- Nic of the Church of Our Saviour of Brooklyn, of which the Rev. Mr. FARLEY is pastor. The festival was celebrated in the spacious grounds of the late SAMUEL JUDD, at the west end' of the village,' and gave the completest satisfaction to the six or seven hundred persons, inclusive of the 'little people,' who were present. There was singing by the children; there were admirable and effective addresses by Rev. Mr. FARLEY, Rev. Mr. OSGOOD, Hon. JOHN

A. KING, and others; there was instrumental music, abundant and of the best; there was ball-play on the fresh greensward, in which ‘children of larger growth' partook with the happy juveniles; and of 'creature-comforts' there was a superfluity of luxury, both in quantity and kind. Ah! boy, would that in our day innocent enjoyment had sometimes been associated with the 'human' relaxations of our religious teachers! ... WE have received from the publishers, Messrs. LOOMIS, GRISWOLD AND COMPANY, Number 233 Broadway, the first number of an imperial quarto work, of rare excellence, entitled 'The Parthenon. It contains original characteristic papers by living American writers, illustrated by the practised and accomplished pencils of DARLEY, BILLINGS, WALON, WADE, CROOM, KIRK, and other the like artists. We fully endorse the praise of a contemporary, who remarks, that 'The Parthenon' is one of the most beautifully illustrated serials ever issued in this country. The first number, now before us, contains articles from the pens of COOPER, Mrs. SIGOURNEY, Miss HANNAH F. GOULD, DUGANNE, and WALLACE, illustrated by more than twenty engravings on wood, executed in the highest style of art. The work is intended to embrace original contributions from every American author of note, and will be embellished with more than two hundred engravings, the cost of which will be upward of twelve thousand dollars. The paper is of the finest quality, and the typographical appearance of the specimen-number is equal perhaps to that of any work ever issued from the American press. The entire series will consist of twelve parts, of forty pages each, on calendered paper, manufactured expressly for the work. The publishers say in their prospectus, that they aim at the production of a work which shall surpass any heretofore put to press in this country, and they certainly commence with a number which indicates a determination to fulfil this bold promise. A magnificent frontispiece and title-page are in preparation for the volume when complete. The Parthenon' is to be sold at one dollar per number, and we regard it as a cheap publication at that price. . . . Nor a few of our modern bardlings would do far more toward achieving a poetical reputation by collating than by 'composing. We subjoin a specimen for their guidance:

"T is distance lends enchantment to the view,
Survey mankind from Lapland to Peru;
How oft by sinners shall thy courts be trod,
An honest man's the noblest work of God!'

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You are an AMERICAN, reader, are you not? If you are, would n't you like to read, just at this recurring period of the anniversary of our 'Sabbath-Day of Free dom,' an account of the reception of the first American Minister from the 'Rebel Colonies,' at the English court? If so, then why not?' In June, 1785, JOHN ADAMS, the first Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States to the court of London, had his introductory audience with King GEORGE the Third. An event so extraordinary, with circumstances so novel to us in America, led Mr. ADAMS to narrate the particulars, in a letter to an intimate friend, which was kept private till after his death. It ran thus:

'AT one o'clock on Wednesday, the first of June, the master of ceremonies called at my house, and went with me to the Secretary of State's office, in Cleaveland row, where the MARQUIS OF CARMARTHEN received me, and introduced me to Mr. FRAZIER, his under-secretary, who had been, as his lordship said, uninterruptedly in that office, through all the changes in administrations for thirty years, having first been appointed by the EARL OF HOLDERNESS.

After a short conversation upon the subject of importing my effects from Holland, which Mr. FRAZIER himself introduced, LORD CARMARTHEN invited me to go with him in his coach to court. When we arrived in the ante-chamber, the master of the ceremonies introduced him and attended me while the Secretary of State went to take the commands of the KING. While I stood in this place, where it seems all ministers stand upon such occasions, always attended by the master of ceremonies, the room was very full of ministers of state, bishops, and all other sorts of courtiers, as well as the next room, which is the KING's bed-chamber. You may well suppose I was the focus of all eyes. I was relieved, however, from the embarrassment of it, by the Swe dish and Dutch ministers, who came to me and entertained me with a very agreeable conversa

tion during the whole time. Some other gentlemen, whom I had seen before, came to make their compliments too, until the MARQUIS OF CARMARTHEN returned, and desired me to go with him to his Majesty. I went with his lordship through the levee room into the king's closet. The door was shut, and I was left with his Majesty and the Secretary of State alone. I made the three reverences; one at the door, another about half way, and another before the presence, according to the usage established at this, and all the northern courts of Europe, and then addresed myself to his Majesty in the following words:

SIRE: The United States have appointed me Minister Plenipotentiary to your Majesty, and have directed me to deliver to your Majesty this letter, which contains the evidence of it. It is in obedience to their express commands, that I have the honor to assure your Majesty of their unanimous disposition and desire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse between your Majesty's subjects and their citizens, and of their best wishes for your Majesty's health and happiness, and for that of your family.

The appointment of a Minister from the United States to your Majesty's court will form an epoch in the history of England and America. I think myself more fortunate than all my fellow citizens, in having the distinguished honor to be the first to stand in your Majesty's royal presence in a diplomatic character; and I shall esteem myself the happiest of men if I can be instrumental in recommending my country more and more to your Majesty's royal benevolence, and of restoring an entire esteem, confidence, and affection; or, in better words, the good nature and the good old humor, between people, who, though separated by an ocean, and under different government, have the same language, a similar religion, a kindred blood. I beg your Majesty's permission to add, that although I have semetimes before been instructed by my country, it was never in my whole life in a manner so agreeable to myself.'

The KING listened to every word I said, with dignity it is true, but with apparent emotion. Whether it was my visible agitation, for I felt more than I could express, that touched him, I cannot say; but he was much affected, and answered me with more tremor than I had spoken with, and said:

SIR: The circumstances of this audience are so extraordinary, the language you have now held is so extremely proper, and the feelings you have discovered are so justly adapted to the occasion, that I must say, that I not only receive with pleasure the assurance of the friendly disposition of the United States, but that I am glad the choice has fallen upon you to be their minister. I wish you, Sir, to believe, and that it may be understood in America, that I have done nothing in the late contest but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do, by the duty which I owe to my people. I will be frank with you. I was the last to conform to the separation; but the separation having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always said, as I now say, that I would be the first to meet the friendship of the United States as an independent power. The moment I see such sentiments and language as yours prevail, that moment I shall say, Let the circumstances of language, religion, and blood have their natural and full effect.'

'I dare not say that these were the KING's precise words; and it is even possible that I may have, in some particulars, mistaken his meaning; for although his pronunciation is as distinct as I ever heard, he hesitated sometimes between members of the same period. He was, indeed, much affected, and I was not less so, and therefore I cannot be certain that I was so attentive, heard so clearly, and understood so perfectly, as to be confident of all his words, or sense; and think that all which he said to me should. at present, be kept secret in America, except his Majesty or his Secretary of State should judge proper to report it. This I do say, that the foregoing is his Majesty's meaning, as I then understood it, and his own words, as nearly as I can recollect them.

The KING then asked me whether I came last from France, and upon my answering in the affirmative, he put on an air of familiarity, and smiling, or rather laughing, said: There is an opinion among some people that you are not the most attached of all your countrymen to the manners of France.' was surprised at this, because I thought it an indiscretion, and a descent from his dignity. I was a little embarrassed, but determined not to deny the truth on the one hand, nor lead him to infer from it any attachment to England on the other. I threw off as much gravity as I could, and assumed an air of gaiety, and a tone of decision, as far as was decorous, and said: "That opinion, Sir, is not mistaken: I must avow to your Majesty, I have no attachment but to my own country.' The KING replied as quick as lightning, 'An honest man will never have any other."

The KING then said a word or two to the Secretary of State, which being between them I did not hear, and then turned round and bowed to me, as is customary with all kings and princes when they give the signal to retire. I retreated, stepping backward, as is the etiquette; and making my last reverence at the door of the chamber, I went away. The master of the ceremonies joined me at the moment of coming out of the KING's closet, and accompanied me through all the apartments down to my carriage.'

It would have made good old ELIAS HICKS himself laugh on 'First-day' to hear our friend BEARD, the distinguished western artist, mention the delivery of a conundrum which he once heard in this state. A tall, red-haired, 'serio-dubious' sort of over-grown boy, who was 'designed for the ministry,' and had just obtained his 'parchment' from an eastern college, was called upon, at a parting supper, to ‘make a speech.' He excused himself by saying, 'I don't know any speech that I can say neöw.' He was asked for a song. 'No, he never could sing; feöund that out when he first went to singin'-school.' However, being hard pressed for something,' he said, looking at and twisting bashfully his long freckled fingers, 'I can tell a

conundrum that I made myself last week. It come to me first one night when I was abed, and I made it out next day, and wrote it down on a piece of paper. I got it here, neöw.' So saying, he took from his waiscoat-pocket a slip of paper, and read: 'What village in 'York state is the same name as the Promised Land? There was some 'guessing,' but at last it was 'given up,' and a 'solution requested?” ́ Canandaigua at length expounded the proposer. But the company were still as much in the dark as ever: 'Canandaigua !' exclaimed a dozen in a breath; 'why-how-where is there any resemblance to the 'Promised Land? Can't see the slightest.' 'Why, you see,' said the conundrum-maker, this is the way on't; yeöu must divide the word, and instead of Can-an you must say Ca-nan,' and throw the 'daigua' away! Canaan was the 'Promised Land,' see! A resistless and united guffaw followed this 'forced construction,' which the expounder mistook for admiration. 'Aint it a fu'strate conundrum?' said he, with a visible chuckle, that only increased the obstreporous cachinnation. We should'nt like to look at so bright an intellectual luminary as this, except through a piece of smoked glass. WELL do we know to feel (well did we know to feel, rather) the 'home-feeling' which 'M. P.' describes so well, in his 'Reminiscences of the Past. And although they have passed away who 'made' home 'Home,' still,

6

'STILL in our thoughts HOME's sainted image glows,

More blue the heavens there- more blushing far the rose!

The 'Reminiscences' are filed for early consideration, and most probably insertion. ... THERE is a capital specimen of what is termed Catachresis' in a passage of one of SOUTHEY's letters. It is the exordium of a provincial lawyer's speech: This man, gentlemen of the jury, walks into court like a motionless statue, with the cloak of hypocrisy in his mouth, and is attempting to screw three large oak trees out of my client's pocket! But we shall remove the veil, gentlemen of the jury, and show the cloven foot!' . . . To M. P. S.'s' request for literary advice,' in connection with the article he has sent us for insertion, we answer in the language of one who was qualified to advise in such matters: When I have been asked the question what a young man should do who wishes to acquire a good style, my answer has been that he should never think about it, but say what he has to say as perspicuously as he can, and as briefly as he can, and then the style will take care of itself.' If we were to write all night, we could'nt make our meaning more clear to our new correspondent. . . . OUR friends, the publishers, here and elsewhere,' must bear with us yet a little.' Some of the best books of the season await adequate notice at our hands, and they shall receive it anon. Correspondents, also, will please pardon similar short-comings. Many articles, received during the month, are filed for insertion. . . . WE cordially commend to all citizens and strangers, who would spend an hour of the highest gratification, to visit 'SATTLER'S Cosmoraras,' corner of Broadway and Thirteenth-street. The new series, in variety, interest, and characteristic excellence of execution, is in no respect inferior to those which have preceded it. To see these pictures, is to be on the spot where they were painted, and look through the very eyes of the artist himself. No wonder they attract crowds of admiring visitors. RALPH SEAWULF' 'got off' a pun the other morning. We were riding together toward SNEDEKER's matchless road-side inn, after a young, spirited, and a little restiff, horse. You hold him too taut,' said 'Old KNICK;' 'don't draw him in so hard.' 'That's the way he has been taught heretofore,' said SEAWULF, without moving a muscle. We rather think he did n't see the word-play himself until we told him of it, about an hour afterward. THIS department is now adjourned sine qua non till next month,' as the president of a ward-meeting hereabout said' ' once on a time.'

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