I stood by the grave, 'mid the wailing moans, That whispered over the bleaching bones : I stood by the grave, 'mid the flowers that grew Rank and wild amidst that poisonous dew; I stood by the grave, and I wished that the breeze Should thus blow on me, when I slept like these! I stood by the grave, and my young heart felt sca. I stood by the grave, and I turned away From all that on earth could woo my stay, In the diademed world my place was high, 'Mid the full of heart, and the bright of eye: But I felt that I soon should leave them all, For the charnel's feast and the death-worm's hall. Oh! there are many, and fond and gay, Who will weep my spirit when passed away; And they will think how I have been Thoughtless as aught of their thoughtless scene; Yet, I stood by the grave, and I only sighed For the hour that should tell them-that I had died! I deemed that my manhood, one violet path Still, I stood by the grave, and I wish'd that I I stood by the grave-a single hour- For willow, and cypress, and rosemary, THE WAVERLEY NOVELS. [The publication of a new edition of the Waverley Novels, with notes, historical and illustrative, by the author, and embellished with engravings by the most eminent artists, was briefly noticed in the last number of the Atheneum. We have since received a specimen of the letter-press of this edition. The size is royal 18mo., and it possesses all the qualities required to constitute elegant printing.-The writer of the article from which the following extract is taken, not only objects to the publication of the sources whence Sir Walter has derived his incidents and descriptions, but also to the plan of ornamenting the volumes with engravings; for as these must necessarily be executed by other individuals, he thinks they will be very unlikely, though excellent as works of art,-to harmonise with that which they are intended to illustrate.] It seems to us that Sir Walter Scott is a traitor to his own genius in publishing with the novels the details of those resources which he has made such admirable use of. No one suspects him of making bricks without straw; but, when we are looking at the pyramid, and studying the architecture, it is impertinent to withdraw our attention, and exhibit to us specimens of the clay, and sand, and fu el, which have enabled him to form the materials. Anatomy is an excellent study to help a man in becoming a painter, or even a critic of painting; but no one who is looking at a fine picture would desire to be shown the prepared entrails of the persons who formerly sat as the artist's models. If Sir Walter Scott's novels are not truer than the histories and anecdotes from which the vulgar tell us he composed them, (as the sculptor composes a statue out of a block,) they are worth nothing, or next to nothing, as novels, and we care not to be let into the worthless secret of their construction. If (as we all know them to be) they are ten thousand times more true (to human nature) than all the historical facts that ever were prated of, why should we be pestered with the miserable details which could only be come precious by being wrought in the mine of a man of genius. There is nothing, the most absurd, in the worst fiction, for which some historical parallel might not probably be found. It is nothing the better for this; it is not less improbable, less false, (for the artist,) on this account. There is only one of his secrets which Sir Walter Scott can never explain in notes to ordinary readers; it is one which can only be intelligible to those who need no explanation—the secret of his genius. The real incidents (as if Hume were one tithe so real as Shakspeare) alluded to in the prospectus, have become Sir Walter's own: they are stamped with his name, and imbued with the fragrance of his genius; and why should we be forced to see upon the styles and titles of the pawnbrokers in whose hands they were originally found? The old nails and broken buttons have all been welded together, and wrought into a splendid armor: would you mar the delicate richness of the chasing by scratching over each square inch, in awkward letters, the initials of the beggar who collected the raw material of that peculiar portion? Fools will think much the worse of the novelist's powers when they see that even he, though the wine is undoubtedly an << emanation" from himself, was compelled to borrow a goat-skin to put it in men of talent will not think more highly of his abilities than they do at present, for they take for granted (caring not a jot whether it be so or no) that he has seized whatever would answer his purpose, and care nothing for seeing a catalogue of the worn-out shreds from which he has made so magnificent a robe of kingly purple. Is it not obviously ill-judged to surround a finished building with scaffolding? Oн saftly sleep, my bonnie bairn, Lie still, lie still, ye canker'd thochts SONG. Sleep on, sleep on, my ae, ae bairn, That blins thy mother's e'e. Dry up, dry up, ye saut, saut tears, MR. MOORE, THE POET. "Paradise and the Peri" in Lalla Rookh! Another showed you a glove torn up into thin shreds in the most even and regular manner possible; each shred being in breadth about the eighth of an inch, and the work of the teeth ! Ar Mayfield, near Ashbourne, is a common-place praise-pens that wrote cottage where Moore, it is stated, composed Lalla Rookh. For some years this distinguished poet lived at the neighboring village of Mayfield; and there was no end to the pleasantries and anecdotes that were floating about its coteries respecting him at the time we visited the place; no limit to the recollections which existed of the peculiarities of the poet, of the wit and drollery of the man. Go where you would, his literary relics were pointed out to you. One family possessed pens; and oh! Mr. Bramah! such pens! they would have borne a comparison with Miss Mitford's; and those who are acquainted with that lady's literary implements and accessaries will admit this is no 15 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series. Pairs were demolished in this way during the progress of the Life of Sheridan. A third called your attention to a note written in a strain of the most playful banter, and announcing the next "tragi-comedy meeting." A fourth repeated a merry impromptu; and a fifth played a very pathetic air, composed and adapted for some beautiful lines of Mrs. Opie's. But to return to Mayfield. Our desire to go over the cottage which he had inhabited was irresistible. It is neat, but very small, and remarkable for nothing you do insert them, it must be verbaexcept combining a most sheltered tim." Mr. Moore's fame would not situation with the most extensive have suffered by their suppression; prospect. Still one had pleasure in his heart would have been a gainer. going over it, and peeping into the Some of his happiest efforts are conlittle book-room, ycleped the "Poet's nected with the localities of AshDen," from which so much true poe- bourne. The beautiful lines beginning try had issued to delight and amuse "Those evening bells, those evening bells," mankind. But our satisfaction was were suggested, it is said, by hearing not without its portion of alloy. As the Ashbourne peal; and sweetly inwe approached the cottage, a figure deed do they sound at that distance, scarcely human appeared at one of the "both mournfully and slow;" while windows. Unaware that it was again those exquisitely touching stanzas, inhabited, we hesitated about entering; "Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb when a livid, half-starved visage pre- In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes," sented itself through the lattice, and a were avowedly written on the sister of thin, shrill voice discordantly ejaculat- an Ashbourne gentleman, Mr. Ped,-" -"Come in, gentlemen, come in. B. But to his drolleries. He Don't be afeard! I'm only a tailor avowed on all occasions an utter horat work on the premises.". This vil- ror of ugly women. He was heard, lanous salutation damped sadly the il- one evening, to observe to a lady, lusion of the scene; and it was some whose person was preeminently plain, time before we rallied sufficiently from but who, nevertheless, had been anxthis horrible desecration to descend to iously doing her little endeavors to atthe poet's walk in the shrubbery, tract his attention, "I cannot endure where, pacing up and down the live- an ugly woman. I'm sure I could long morning, he composed his Lalla never live with one. A man that Rookh. It is a little confined gravel- marries an ugly woman cannot be walk, in length about twenty paces; happy." The lady observed, that so narrow, that there is barely room "such an observation she could not on it for two persons to walk abreast; permit to pass without remark. She bounded on one side by a straggling knew many plain couples who lived row of stinted laurels, on the other by most happily."-" Don't talk of it," some old decayed wooden paling; at said the wit; "don't talk of it. It the end of it was a huge haystack. cannot be."-"But I tell you," said Here, without prospect, space, fields, the lady, who became all at once both flowers, or natural beauties of any de- piqued and positive, "it can be, and scription, was that most imaginative it is. I will name individuals so cirpoem conceived, planned, and execut- cumstanced. ed. It was at Mayfield, too, that those bitter stanzas were written on the death of Sheridan. There is a curious circumstance connected with them; they were sent to Perry, the well-known editor of the Morning Chronicle. Perry, though no stickler in a general way, was staggered at the venom of two stanzas, to which I need not more particularly allude, and wrote to inquire whether he might be permitted to omit them. The reply which he received was shortly this: "You may insert the lines in the Chronicle or not, as you please; I am perfectly indifferent about it; but if You have heard of Co Ionel and Mrs. She speaks in a deep, gruff bass voice; he in a thin, shrill treble. She looks like a Jean Dorée ; he like a dried alligator. They are called Bubble and Squeak by some of their neighbors; Venus and Adonis by others. But what of that? They are not handsome, to be sure; and there is neither mirror nor pierglass to be found, search their house from one end of it to the other. But what of that? No unhandsome reflections can, in such a case, be cast by either party! I know them well; and a more barmonious couple I never met with. Now, Mr. Moore, in reply, what have you to say? I flatter myself I have overthrown your theory completely." "Not a whit. Colonel has got into a scrape, and, like a soldier, puts the best face he can upon it."-Those still exist who were witnesses to his exultation when one morning he entered Mrs. 's drawing-room, with an open letter in his hand, and, in his peculiarly joyous and animated manner, exclaimed, "Don't be surprised if I play all sorts of antics! I am like a child with a new rattle! Here is a letter from my friend Lord Byron, telling me he has dedicated to me his poem of the 'Corsair.' Ah, Mrs. it is nothing new for a poor poet to dedicate his poem to a great lord; but it is something passing strange for a great lord to dedicate his book to a poor poet."-Those who know him most intimately feel no sort of hesitation in declaring, that he has again and again been heard to express regret at the earlier efforts of his muse; or reluctance in stating, at the same time, as a fact, that Mr. M., on two different occasions, endeavored to repurchase the copyright of certain poems; but, in each instance, the sum demanded was so exorbitant, as of itself to put an end to the negociation. The attempt, however, does him honor. And, affectionate father as he is well known to be, when he looks at his beautiful little daughter, and those fears, and hopes, and cares, and anxieties, come over him which almost choke a parent's utterance as he gazes on a promising and idolized child, he will own the censures passed on those poems to be just: nay more every year will find him more and more sensible of the paramount importance of the union of female purity with female loveliness more alive to the imperative duty, on a father's part, to guard the maiden bosom from the slightest taint of licentiousness. It is a fact not generally suspected, though his last work, "The Epicurean," affords strong internal evidence of the truth of the observation, that few are more thoroughly conversant with Scripture than himself. Many of Alethe's most beautiful remarks are simple paraphrases of the sacred volume. He has been heard to quote from it with the happiest effect-to say there was no book like it -no book, regarding it as a mere human composition, which could on any subject even "approach it in poetry, beauty, pathos, and sublimity." Long may these sentiments abide in him. THE LATEST FEMALE FASHIONS. PARISIAN CARRIAGE DRESS. A redingote composed of velvet, the color is boue de Paris; the corsage is made to sit close to the shape, the sleeve cut full and much puffed out on the shoulder by a newly invented manche en gigot; it is terminated by a cuff à l'antique, finished à la Grecque at the top, by two very narrow rouleaux of satin a shade darker then the velvet; the skirt is finished round the bottom by a very deep hem, and up the front by a satin trimming which is very broad at the bottom, and becomes gradually narrower till it reaches the waist, where it takes the form of a pelerine falling low on the back and shoulders; it is cut to correspond with the cuff in a Grecian border, which is finished by two rouleaux of satin placed at a little distance from each other; there is no collar, but its place is supplied by a collerette en bouillons, through which is drawn a bright blue riband tied in front in full bows and short ends. The collerette is composed of blond net, and the bouillons are formed by a fall of deep pointed blond lace. Headdress :—a hat of the same material as the redingote, brimmed with blue gauze ribands striped with yellow : the brim is large and very wide; the trimming is arranged partly in nœuds and partly in foliage; a branch of foliage is placed beneath the brim on each side, another decorates one side of the crown, and a large nœud is attached to the crown in front, near the top. Ear-rings and buckle for the ceinture, gold; gold Chatelaine and white satin rouleau; the drapery rises key, the latter of a large size white velvet reticule, with an embroidery of gold foliage in the centre; blue kid gloves, and black cottines. Explanation of the Print of the LONDON DINNER DRESS. DRESS of white satin or gros de Naples; the body made close to the shape, and nearly covered with white tulle drapery, which rises in a fan-like direction from the centre of the waist, and spreads in regular folds across the bosom, displaying the form to much advantage; the back is made in the same manner, and has a narrow band of white satin where it closes; the sleeves are full and short, with the least possible shoulder-straps; the skirt has three plaits on each side in front, and is trimmed with a broad full flounce of tulle, having a stiffened satin band at the edge; it is put on in a straight line, and alternately fastened up and down by white satin corded leaves; ceinture of white satin. Vienna toyne of tulle and white satin, formed of large bows, on loops of folded tulle, standing up very high and open, inserted in a satin band in front, and passing over towards the crown; two bows of broad satin riband are placed on the right side, and bows and ends behind, below two spreading bows of folded tulle. Long white kid gloves, stamped; white satin shoes. LONDON OPERA DRESS. White tulle dress, over a white satin slip; the body en draperie, regulated in the centre by a perpendicular in a point from the waist, and spreads very full, in small regular folds, across the bust as far as the shoulders, which are a good deal displayed; the sleeves being placed low, they are very large to the wrist, where they are terminated by broad gold Egyptian bracelets, confining the white kid gloves. In the centre of the bust is an elegant Egyptian brooch, with pendant drops, corresponding in delicate workmanship with the ear-rings, which are also of gold; the skirt has tucks to within a quarter of a yard of the waist, they are placed close to each other, and are about a finger's length in depth; the fulness of the skirt is principally at the back, but it is slightly continued at the front and sides. White satin sash. Large black velvet hat, with a white satin bow, just within the brim on the left side; a plume of white ostrich feathers placed behind, are arranged with the greatest taste; one extends to the front, where it is attached to the crown, and turned for the end to play freely; a second is fastened to the top of the crown, twisted, and falls over to the front; two more, twisted half way, fall gracefully towards the right shoulder. Cloak of striped blue or lilac satin, with an elegant border, formed by a perpendicular embroidered sprig being placed between each stripe; the cloak is wadded, and lined with white satin, and fastened by a gold-color silk cord and tassels; it has a large square collar, and a larger square cape, reaching below the elbow. White satin shoes. SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. "Serene Philosophy! She springs aloft, with elevated pride, That bind the fluttering crowd; and, angel-wing'd, GEOLOGICAL CHANGES. THE following are the writers whose lebrity, as advocates for particular systems accounting for the formation opinions have obtained the greatest ce- and subsequent alteration of the earth: |