diately recovered sufficient self-possession to avoid an outcry, and to walk with apparent firmness to a chair which stood on one side of the fire-place. The marauder immediately seated himself in another chair which stood opposite, and fixed his eyes upon her with a most savage expression. Her courage was now almost spent ; but recollecting herself, she put up an inward prayer to the Almighty for protection, and threw herself upon his providence. She immediately felt her internal strength revive, and looked steadfastly at the man, who now had drawn from his pocket a large clasp-knife, opened it, and, with a murderous expression in his eyes, appeared ready to spring upon her. She, however, evinced no visible emotion; she said not a word; but continued to pray for deliverance, or resignation, and to look on the fearful man with a calm seriousness. He rose up, looked at her,

At

then at the knife; then wiped it across his hand; then again eagerly glanced at her; when at once a sudden damp seemed to fall upon him; his eyes seemed to blench before her still, fixed gaze; he closed his knife, and went out. a single spring she reached the door; shot the bolt with a convulsive rapidity, and fell senseless on the floor. When she recovered from her swoon, she was filled with the utmost anxiety on account of her husband, lest the villain should meet him by the way. But presently she heard his wellknown step, his well-known voice on finding the door fastened, and let him in with a heart trembling with mingled agitation and thankfulness. Great as had been her faith on this occasion, and great the interposition of Providence, we may be sure that she would not rest the exercise of the one, or tempt the other, by neglecting in future to shoot the bolt of the door; and her husband, at once taught the danger of his house, and of his own passage home, made it a rule to leave the markettown at least an hour earlier after the winter markets.-Howitt's Rural Life.

LITERARY ARTICLE.

WE have sometimes thought we should be glad to see the entire process of the argument which should establish, for its conclusion, the reason that the youthful mind is generally so strongly attached VOL. VII. Second Series. D

to poetry. But, whatever the reason, the fact is plain, as every editor of any periodical which admits pieces in verse, well knows. Juvenile contributions are seldom scarce. And though inexperience may occasion the transmission of many a piece which is altogether unsuitable for insertion, it does not follow that the exercise itself has been improper, or even useless. A good feeling has been cherished; and thus the individual is benefited, even though what he has written would do no good if printed. Poetry is the expression of emotion, or of the thoughts existing in the mind while in a state of emotion, and which are influenced by it. If only emotion be expressed, there is great danger of what is significantly called, sentimentality. And care should be taken when thoughts are introduced, that they be in themselves clear and distinct, and consistent with each other, that the influencing feeling be natural, and that the expressions themselves have a real meaning, and that that meaning be correct. When the result of a translation of the language of verse into plain prose is nonsense, it never was poetry. Young writers would do well to think on this.

True poetry always discovers the existence of the perception of what is beautiful and good in external nature, and of a deep and powerful feeling as connected with it. One reason of this is plain. The soul dwells in the body, a material body. It is with material forms, therefore, that it is conversant. With that which is immaterial it has no direct, immediate intercourse. The emotions which beauty and sublimity occasion, are primarily occasioned by material beauty and sublimity. And here let the benevolence of the Creator be acknowledged. As objects of knowledge and usefulness, the things we see might have existed without any thing poetical about them. But man is made capable of high enjoyment from what we will term the capacity of poetical feeling, and he is surrounded with objects to whose actual uses is superadded the power of gratifying it. Every thing in nature is useful; but, over and above, nature is poetical. Let one single fact illustrate this; only let the youthful reader follow it out, and trace its universal application. The clouds; as water-bearers they might have served all their present purposes without having been so formed as to present such a variety of exhibitions of beauty, magnificence, gorgeousness, sublimity. Could we not have had the fruit of the apple-tree, without the previous beauty of the delicately-tinted blossoms?

We do not wonder, therefore, that the volumes which have been given to us by the poets, should all, almost without exception, like so many mirrors, reflect the glories of external nature; nor that when this is done by Christian poets, it should be so done as that not only the heavens, but all objects in nature, should be shown to declare the glory of the great Maker and Upholder of the universe. The careful study of such portions of poetry would be very useful to the young reader. Of late, the poetry of violent, and sometimes bad, passion, has been fashionable. And this is expressed in

inflated language, daring and often inconsistent metaphors, strange and really incorrect forms of speech. And yet what at best is only dashing nonsense, often imposes on the young and unsophisticated mind. It is thought to be wonderfully grand, and straightway must be imitated. We tell the young poet of a better way. We send him to those portions of the true poets of our country which mirror forth the beauties of nature in their true character. And just now, we can tell them how this may be done with an ease which, till lately, we should have supposed impossible.

A small volume has lately been published with the simple title of Poetry of the Seasons. When we came to look at it, we were only astonished that the idea of it had never before occurred. It is just what we have long wanted; what we have above described. It is a collection of those portions of British poetry of which we have spoken. A reference to the "Table of Contents" will show this. Thus, Creation; then follow the titles of such pieces as are properly arranged under that head. Providence, and a similar list. Sun, Moon, Stars, Comets, &c.: The Seasons; Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter: Day, Night, Morning, Evening; the Sabbath, &c., &c.

The air is not forgotten, with its clouds and storms. Nor vegetation, and its woods, trees, and flowers. There are the animals, too, and birds, and beasts, fishes, and insects; and a few beautiful pictures of local scenery. The study of such good, healthy poetry as this, selected from the best writers, from Spenser, and Milton, down to the present time, must be as useful as it will be agreeable. We give the title and size of the work.

Poetry of the Seasons, and of the Kingdoms of Nature. 18mo., pp. 384. Edinburgh: W. Oliphant and Son.

We will not dismiss the reader, however, with only one book, and one subject. We have on the table a small but very excellent volume, just published, on a subject to which, we hope, all our readers attach importance, especially those who intend to be poets. There are many grammars extant; but the young student who has left school, and has done with parsing, should make himself acquainted with the principles of grammar; its philosophy, as it is sometimes termed. For want of this, we have known some writers who had not forgotten a single rule of grammar, and who, in writing, carefully applied each whenever the application was called for, whose style has been, in consequence, deplorably inelegant, offensively stiff, and pedantic. Dr. George Payne, whose work on "Mental Philosophy" we have mentioned in a former volume, and whose connexion with a Dissenting College calls him to refer to the philosophy of language also, has presented to the public a work which we gladly recommend to our readers. We quote half a dozen lines from the preface, to show what Dr. Payne seeks to accomplish:-" In publishing this book the author has sought to benefit that large and rapidly augmenting class, especially of young people, who, to a competent acquaintance with the principles of

their own language, seek to add the knowledge of those general principles on which all particular grammars are founded." The title is,

Elements of Language and General Grammar. By George Payne, LL.D. Foolscap 8vo., pp. 236. John Gladding.

NOTICES OF ANIMATED AND VEGETABLE

NATURE,

FOR FEBRUARY, 1843.

BY MR. WILLIAM ROGERSON, of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.
"BLEAK blows the wind, and from the surly North
The fleecy flakes in drifted showers descend.
From his warm cot the shepherd ventures forth,
And braves the storm, his bleating charge to tend.
Wide o'er the joyless plain, on drooping wing,
The feather'd tribe, enfeebled, urge their flight
With tremulous cry,-nor longer, gladsome, sing
The sprightly-warbling note of gay delight."

"How tender are the cares of Providence for us during the winter! He has given to the human family that industry of which they have so much need, to fortify themselves against the attacks of cold and frost. Their inventive mind has made them find the means of procuring for themselves an artificial heat. And is it not evident that Divine Wisdom has foreseen the wants incident to different climates, when he has placed in them animals that could live nowhere else?"

"Though we are obliged to suspend the labours of the field, there are various other ways in which we may be usefully employed; and we are never doomed to live in a state of idleness and inaction. The repose of nature invites us to look for resources in our own minds; and though our imagination cannot now be warmed with the beauties of nature in their spring and summer robes, our mind, from the present change in nature, may be led to reflect upon the instability of all earthly things, and prepare to enter into that eternity to which it is hastening, and devote itself with full sincerity to the service of that supreme Being who never changed, but is ever the same, merciful, just, and omnipotent."-Time's Telescope.

"All that we love and feel on Nature's face
Bear dim relations to our common doom;
The clouds that blush and die a beamy death,
Or weep themselves away in rain,-the streams
That flow along in dying music,-leaves
That fade, and drop into the frosty arms
Of Winter, there to mingle with dead flowers,
Are all prophetic of our own decay."

R. MONTGOMERY.

There are few attractions for the naturalist this month; still, if

the weather is not severe, some opening buds and peeping flowers may be found on sheltered spots.

The first half of the month.-The dormouse, the squirrel, and the hedgehog remain in a state of torpidity: the bat is rarely seen abroad, in consequence of the cold.

"By hunger pierced, and winter's chilling cold,

Now to the garden hies the fearful hare;
For want will render e'en the timid bold,

And rouse the torpid senses of despair."

The sarcelle and the tufted duck, the merganser, the snowfleck, the grosbeak, and the aberdevine, are occasionally, but not regularly, seen; their appearance and departure depending on the severity or mildness of the weather.

The titmouse, the common wren, and some other of the smaller birds, approach our houses in quest of food and warmth.

"The social robin, with dishevell'd plume,

Even at the window pours his plaintive strain,
On fluttering wing, and, reckless of the gloom,
Instinctively implores the humble grain.

"Come, little rosy-breasted favourite, come!
To thee my bounty ever shall expand;
Here in my cottage find a welcome home,

And freely share the pittance of my hand."

The snowdrop and the yellow crocus are the principal plants that are in flower at this rigid period. A few violets in bloom may be seen in gardens, under warm and sheltered walls. In the fields several species of moss are in blow, and here and there a common daisy may be found.

The last half of the month.-Those persons are greatly mistaken who imagine there is nothing to be seen out of doors, because the sun bestows but little warmth, and the streets are dirty. Let us get by the dint of good exercise out of the streets, and we shall find a variety of objects worthy of our notice. In the warm neighbourhood of towns, we may still watch the fieldfares, thrushes, and blackbirds; the titmouse seeking its food through the straw-thatch; the redwings, skylarks, and the titlark, upon the same errand on moist meadows. The sparrows, yellow-hammers, and chaffinches, still beautiful though mute, gleaning from the straw and chaff in farm-yards; and the ringdove coming for its meal to the ivy-berries. About the rapid streams we may see the various habits and movements of herons, woodcocks, wild ducks, and other water-fowl, who are obliged to quit the frozen marshes to seek their food there.

The fox continues to commit the most destructive havoc in the farm-yard, and to carry off its booty with impunity. It is peculiar to foxes to be quite solitary in their operations, never joining in numbers to make common cause against their enemies, and so to compensate for the want of individual strength; but encountering alone whatever dangers assail it, and opposing them at first with all the cunning of its sagacious nature, and when this fails, with