advertisement-in Chapter XII, his wife affronts the I watched the face of the pawn-broker to see what scholars, by "swearing by the powers she would be effect this appeal would have upon him, but I watched afther clearing them out-the spalpeens!-that's what in vain. He was hardened to distress, and had no sympa she would, honies!" The school is broken up in con-he said, tossing them back to the drunkard, with a look thy to throw away. "Twelve shillings on these things," sequence, and Mrs. Wheelwright herself turns out to of perfect indifference.

66

be nothing more than "one of the unmarried wives of Only twelve shillings!" murmured the heart-broken the lamented Captain Scarlett," the legal representa-wife, in a tone of despair. "O Robert, don't let them go tives being in secure possession of the thirty thousand for twelve shillings. Let me try some where else." pounds sterling in prospectu.

In Chapter XIII, Mr. Wheelwright is again in distress, and applies, of course, to the humane author of the "Ups and Downs," who gives him, we are assured, an overcoat, and a little basket of provisions." In Chapter XIV, the author continues his benevolence gives a crow, (cock-a-doodle doo !) and concludes with "there is no more charitable people than those of New York!" which means when translated into good English-"there never was a more charitable man than the wise and learned author of the Ups and Downs.'" Chapter XV, is in a somewhat better vein, and embraces some tolerable incidents in relation to the pawnbrokers' shops of New York. We give an extractbelieving it to be one of the best passages in the book. To one who would study human nature, especially in its darker features, there is no better field of observation than among these pawn-brokers' shops.

"Nonsense," answered the brute. "It's as much as they're worth, I suppose. Here, Mr. Crimp, give us the change."

The money was placed before him, and the bundle consigned to a drawer. The poor woman reached forth her hand toward the silver, but the movement was anticipated by her husband. "There Mary," he said, giving her half a dollar, "there, go home now, and don't make a fuss. I'm going a little way up the street, and perhaps I'll bring you something from market, when I come home."

The hopeless look of the poor woman, as she meekly turned to the door, told plainly enough how little she trusted to this ambiguous promise. They went on their way, she to her famishing children, and he to squander the dollar he had retained, at the next den of intempe

rance.

Chapter XVI, is entitled the "end of this eventful history." Mr. Wheelwright is rescued from the hands of the watch by the author of the "Ups and Downs”— turns his wife, very justly, out of doors-and finally returns to his parental occupation of coach-making.

In a frequented establishment, each day unfolds an ample catalogue of sorrow, misery, and guilt, developed in forms and combinations almost innumerable; and if We have given the entire pith and marrow of the the history of each customer could be known, the result book. The term flat, is the only general expression would be such a catalogue as would scarcely be surpass-which would apply to it. It is written, we believe, by ed, even by the records of a police-office or a prison. Col. Stone of the New York Commercial Advertiser, Even my brief stay while arranging for the redemption and should have been printed among the quack adverof Dr. Wheelwright's personals, afforded materials, as indicated in the last chapter, for much and painful medi

tation.

tisements, in a spare corner of his paper.

WATKINS TOTTLE.

I had scarcely made my business known, at the first of "my uncle's" establishments to which I had been directed, when a middle-aged man entered with a bundle, on which he asked a small advance, and which, on being opened, was found to contain a shawl and two or three other articles of female apparel. The man was stout and sturdy, and, as I judged from his appearance, a mechanic; but the mark of the destroyer was on his bloated countenance, and in his heavy, stupid eyes. Intem- This book is a re-publication from the English origiperance had marked him for his own. The pawn-broker nal, and many of its sketches are with us old and highly was yet examining the offered pledge, when a woman, whose pale face and attenuated form bespoke long and esteemed acquaintances. In regard to their author we intimate acquaintance with sorrow, came hastily into the know nothing more than that he is a far more pungent, shop, and with the single exclamation, "O, Robert!" more witty, and better disciplined writer of sly articles, darted, rather than ran, to that part of the counter where than nine-tenths of the Magazine writers in Great Brithe man was standing. Words were not wanted to ex-tain-which is saying much, it must be allowed, when plain her story. Her miserable husband, not satisfied with wasting his own earnings, and leaving her to starve with her children, had descended to the meanness of plundering even her scanty wardrobe, and the pittance for the obtaining of which this robbery would furnish means, was destined to be squandered at the tippling house. A blush of shame arose even upon his degraded face, but it quickly passed away; the brutal appetite prevailed, and the better feeling that had apparently stirred within him for the moment, soon gave way before its diseased and insatiate cravings.

Watkins Tottle, and other Sketches, illustrative of everyday Life, and every-day People. By Boz. Philadelphia : Carey, Lea and Blanchard.

"Go home," was his harsh and angry exclamation ;"what brings you here, running after me with your everlasting scolding? go home, and mind your own business." "O Robert, dear Robert!" answered the unhappy wife, "don't pawn my shawl. Our children are crying for bread, and I have none to give them. Or let me have the money; it is hard to part with that shawl, for it was my mother's gift; but I will let it go, rather than see my children starve. Give me the money, Robert, and don't leave us to perish."

we consider the great variety of genuine talent, and earnest application brought to bear upon the periodical literature of the mother country.

The very first passage in the volumes before us, will convince any of our friends who are knowing in the requisites of "a good thing," that we are doing our friend Boz no more than the simplest species of justice. Hearken to what he says of Matrimony and of Mr. Watkins Tottle.

Matrimony is proverbially a serious undertaking. Like an overweening predilection for brandy and water, it is a misfortune into which a man easily falls, and from which he finds it remarkably difficult to extricate himself. It is no use telling a man who is timorous on these points, that it is but one plunge and all is over. 'They say the same thing at the Old Bailey, and the unfortunate victims derive about as much comfort from the assurance in the one case as in the other.

Mr. Watkins Tottle was a rather uncommon com- Dancing Academy is a vivid sketch of Cockney low life, pound of strong uxorious inclinations, and an unparal- which may probably be considered as somewhat too leled degree of anti-connubial timidity. He was about fifty years of age; stood four feet six inches and three outré by those who have no experience in the matter. Watkins Tottle is excellent. We should like very quarters in his socks-for he never stood in stockings at all-plump, clean and rosy. He looked something much to copy the whole of the article entitled Pewnlike a vignette to one of Richardson's novels, and had a brokers' Shops, with a view of contrasting its matter clean cravatish formality of manner, and kitchen-poker- and manner with the insipidity of the passage we have ness of carriage, which Sir Charles Grandison himself just quoted on the same subject from the “Ups and might have envied. He lived on an annuity, which was well adapted to the individual who received it in Downs" of Colonel Stone, and by way of illustrating one respect-it was rather small. He received it in our remarks on the unity of effect-but this would, perperiodical payments on every alternate Monday; but haps, be giving too much of a good thing. It will be he ran himself out about a day after the expiration of seen by those who peruse both these articles, that in that the first week, as regularly as an eight-day clock, and of the American, two or three anecdotes are told which then, to make the comparison complete, his landlady have merely a relation-a very shadowy relation, to wound him up, and he went on with a regular tick. pawn-broking-in short, they are barely elicited by this theme, have no necessary dependence upon it, and might be introduced equally well in connection with any

lishman we have no anecdotes at all-the Pawnbroker's

It is not every one who can put "a good thing" properly together, although, perhaps, when thus properly put together, every tenth person you meet with may be capable of both conceiving and appreciating it. We one of a million other subjects. In the sketch of the Engcannot bring ourselves to believe that less actual ability is required in the composition of a really good "brief Shop engages and enchains our attention-we are enarticle," than in a fashionable novel of the usual dimen-veloped in its atmosphere of wretchedness and extor sions. The novel certainly requires what is denomi- tion-we pause at every sentence, not to dwell upon the nated a sustained effort-but this is a matter of mere sentence, but to obtain a fuller view of the gradually perseverance, and has but a collateral relation to talent. perfecting picture—which is never at any moment any other matter than the Pawnbroker's Shop. To the illus On the other hand-unity of effect, a quality not easily tration of this one end all the groupings and fillings in of appreciated or indeed comprehended by an ordinary the painting are rendered subservient and when our mind, and a desideratum difficult of attainment, even by those who can conceive it—is indispensable in the "brief eyes are taken from the canvass, we remember the perarticle," and not so in the common novel. The latter, sonages of the sketch not at all as independent existences, but as essentials of the one subject we have witif admired at all, is admired for its detached passages, nessed-as a part and portion of the Pawnbroker's Shep. without reference to the work as a whole-or without So perfect, and never-to-be-forgotten a picture cannot reference to any general design-which, if it even exist in some measure, will be found to have occupied but little of the writer's attention, and cannot, from the length of the narrative, be taken in at one view, by the

reader.

be brought about by any such trumpery exertion, or still more trumpery talent, as we find employed in the inef fective daubing of Colonel Stone. The scratchings of a schoolboy with a slate-pencil on a slate might as well be compared to the groupings of Buonarotti.

We conclude by strongly recommending the Sketches of Boz to the attention of American readers, and by copying the whole of his article on Gin Shops.

The Sketches by Boz are all exceedingly well managed, and never fail to tell as the author intended. They are entitled, Passage in the Life of Mr. Watkins Tottle -The Black Veil-Shabby Genteel People-Horatio It is a very remarkable circumstance, that different Sparkins-The Pawnbroker's Shop-The Dancing trades appear to partake of the disease to which eleAcademy-Early Coaches-The River-Private Thephants and dogs are especially liable; and to run stark, atres-The Great Winglebury Duel-Omnibuses-staring, raving mad, periodically. The great distinction Mrs. Joseph Porter-The Steam Excursion-Senti- between the animals and the trades is, that the former ment-The Parish-Miss Evans and the Eagle-Shops run mad with a certain degree of propriety-they are and their Tenants-Thoughts about People-A Visit to very regular in their irregularities. You know the period at which the emergency will arise, and provide Newgate-London Recreations-The Boarding-House against it accordingly. If an elephant run mad, you are -Hackney-Coach Stands-Brokers and Marine Store- all ready for him-kill or cure-pills or bullets-calomel Shops-The Bloomsbury Christening-Gin Shops in conserve of roses, or lead in a musket-barrel. If a Public Dinners-Astley's-Greenwich Fair-The Pri- dog happen to look unpleasantly warm in the summer soner's Van--and A Christmas Dinner. The reader months, and to trot about the shady side of the streets with a quarter of a yard of tongue hanging out of his who has been so fortunate as to have perused any one mouth, a thick leather muzzle, which has been previ of these pieces, will be fully aware of how great a fund ously prepared in compliance with the thoughtful inof racy entertainment is included in the Bill of Fare junction of the Legislature, is instantly clapped over we have given. There are here some as well conceived his head, by way of making him cooler, and he either and well written papers as can be found in any other looks remarkably unhappy for the next six wecks, or becomes legally insane, and goes mad, as it were, by collection of the kind-many of them we would espc-act of Parliament. But these trades are as eccentric cially recommend, as a study, to those who turn their as comets; nay, worse; for no one can calculate on the attention to Magazine writing-a department in which, recurrence of the strange appearances which betoken generally, the English as far excel us as Hyperion a the disease: moreover, the contagion is general, and the quickness with which it diffuses itself almost incredible. Satyr.

The Black Veil, in the present series, is distinct in character from all the rest-an act of stirring tragedy, and evincing lofty powers in the writer. Broad humor is, however, the prevailing feature of the volumes. The

We will cite two or three cases in illustration of our meaning. Six or eight years ago the epidemie began to display itself among the linen-drapers and haberdashers The primary symptoms were, an inordinate love of plate-glass, and a passion for gas-lights and

gilding. The disease gradually progressed, and at last | passage; a "musician" in the front kitchen, and a charattained a fearful height. Quiet, dusty old shops, in woman and five hungry children in the back one-filth different parts of town, were pulled down; spacious every where-a gutter before the houses and a drain premises, with stuccoed fronts and gold letters, were behind them-clothes drying at the windows, slops erected instead; floors were covered with Turkey car-emptying from the ditto; girls of fourteen or fifteen, pets, roofs supported by massive pillars, doors knocked into windows, a dozen squares of glass into one, one shopman into a dozen,—and there is no knowing what would have been done, if it had not been fortunately discovered, just in time, that the Commissioners of Bankrupts were as competent to decide such cases as the Commissioners of Lunacy, and that a little confine- You turn the corner. What a change! All is light ment and gentle examination did wonders. The disease and brilliancy. The hum of many voices issues from abated; it died away; and a year or two of compara-that splendid gin-shop which forms the commencement tive tranquillity ensued. Suddenly it burst out again of the two streets opposite; and the gay building with among the chemists; the symptoms were the same, the fantastically ornamented parapet, the illuminated with the addition of a strong desire to stick the royal clock, the plate-glass windows surrounded by stucco arms over the shop-door, and a great rage for mahogany, rosetts, and its profusion of gaslights in richly gilt varnish, and expensive floor-cloth: then the hosiers burners, is perfectly dazzling when contrasted with the were infected, and began to pull down their shop-fronts darkness and dirt we have just left. The interior is with frantic recklessness. The mania again died away, even gayer than the exterior. A bar of French-polished and the public began to congratulate themselves upon mahogany, elegantly carved, extends the whole width its entire disappearance, when it burst forth with ten- of the place; and there are two side-aisles of great fold violence among the publicans and keepers of "wine casks, painted green and gold, inclosed within a light Vaults." From that moment it has spread among them brass rail, and bearing such inscriptions as "Old Tom, with unprecedented rapidity, exhibiting a concatena- 549;" "Young Tom, 360;" "Samson, 1421." Behind tion of all the previous symptoms; and onward it has the bar is a lofty and spacious saloon, full of the same rushed to every part of town, knocking down all the enticing vessels, with a gallery running round it, equally old public-houses, and depositing splendid mansions, well furnished. On the counter, in addition to the usual stone balustrades, rosewood fittings, immense lamps, spirit apparatus, are two or three little baskets of cakes and illuminated clocks, at the corner of every street. and biscuits, which are carefully secured at the top with The extensive scale on which these places are estab- wicker-work, to prevent their contents being unlawfully lished, and the ostentatious manner in which the busi- abstracted. Behind it are two showily-dressed damsels ness of even the smallest among them is divided into with large necklaces, dispensing the spirits and "combranches, is most amusing. A handsome plate of ground pounds." They are assisted by the ostensible proglass in one door directs you "To the Counting-house;" prietor of the concern, a stout, coarse fellow in a fur another to the "Bottle Department;" a third, to the cap, put on very much on one side to give him a know"Wholesale Department;" a fourth, to "The Wine ing air, and display his sandy whiskers to the best Promenade," and so forth, until we are in daily expec- advantage. tation of meeting with a "Brandy Bell," or a "Whiskey Extrance." Then ingenuity is exhausted in devising attractive titles for the different descriptions of gin; and the dram-drinking portion of the community, as they gaze upon the gigantic white and black announcements, which are only to be equalled in size by the figures beDeath them, are left in a state of pleasing hesitation between "The Cream of the Valley," "The Out and Or," "The No Mistake," "The Good for Mixing," The real knock-me-down," "The celebrated Butter Gin," "The regular Flare-up," and a dozen other equally inviting and wholesome liqueurs. Although places of this description are to be met with in every second street, they are invariably numerous and splendid in precise proportion to the dirt and poverty of the surrounding eighborhood. The gin-shops in and near Drury-lane, Holborn, St. Giles', Covent Garden, and Clare-market, are the handsomest in London-there is more filth and squalid misery near those great thorough-fares than in any part of this mighty city.

with matted hair, walking about bare-footed, and in old white great coats, almost their only covering; boys of all ages, in coats of all sizes, and no coats at all; men and women, in every variety of scanty and dirty apparel, lounging about, scolding, drinking, smoking, squabbling, fighting, and swearing.

Look at the groups of customers, and observe the different air with which they call for what they want, as they are more or less struck by the grandeur of the establishment. The two old washerwomen, who are seated on the little bench to the left of the bar, are rather overcome by the head-dresses, and haughty demeanor of the young ladies who officiate; and receive their half quartern of gin-and-peppermint with considerable deference, prefacing a request for "one of them soft biscuits," with a "Just be good enough, ma'am," &c. They are quite astonished at the impudent air of the young fellow in the brown coat and white buttons, who, ushering in his two companions, and walking up to the bar in as careless a manner as if he had been used to green and gold ornaments all his life, winks at one of the young ladies with singular coolness, and calls for a "kervorten and a three-out-glass," just as if the place were his own. "Gin for you, sir," says the young lady when she has drawn it, carefully looking every way but the right one to show that the wink had no effect upon her. "For We will endeavor to sketch the bar of a large gin-shop, me, Mary, my dear," replies the gentleman in brown. and its ordinary customers, for the edification of such of "My name an't Mary as it happens," says the young our readers as may not have had opportunities of ob-girl, in a most insinuating manner, as she delivers the serving such scenes; and on the chance of finding one change. "Vell, if it an't, it ought to be," responds the Well suited to our purpose, we will make for Drurylane, irresistible one; "all the Marys as ever I see was handthrough the narrow streets and dirty courts which di- some gals." Here the young lady, not precisely revide it from Oxford-street, and that classical spot ad-membering how blushes are managed in such cases, joring the brewery at the bottom of Tottenham-court-abruptly ends the flirtation by addressing the female in mad, best known to the initiated as the "Rookery." the faded feathers who had just entered, and who, after The filthy and miserable appearance of this part of stating explicitly, to prevent any subsequent misunder London can hardly be imagined by those (and there are miny such) who have not witnessed it. Wretched houses, with broken windows patched with rags and paper, every room let out to a different family, and in many instances to two, or even three: fruit and "sweet stuff" manufacturers in the cellars; barbers and redherring venders in the front parlors; cobblers in the bark; a bird-fancier in the first floor, three families on the second; starvation in the attics; Irishmen in the

standing that "this gentleman" pays, calls for "a glass of port wine and a bit of sugar," the drinking which, and sipping another, accompanied by sundry whisperings to her companion, and no small quantity of giggling, occupies a considerable time.

Observe the group on the other side: those two old men who came in "just to have a dram," finished their third quartern a few seconds ago; they have made themselves crying drunk, and the fat, comfortable look

We are sorry to perceive that our friends of the 'Southern Literary Journal" are disposed to unite with the "Knickerbocker" and "New York Mirror" in covert, and therefore unmanly, thrusts at the "Messenger." It is natural that these two Journals (who refused to Flora and Thalia; or Gems of Flowers and Poetry: selves aggrieved at our success, and we own that, exchange with us from the first) should feel them being an Alphabetical Arrangement of Flowers, with appro-bearing them no very good will, we care little what priate Poetical Illustrations, embellished with Colored Plates. injury they do themselves in the public estimation by

By a Lady. To which is added a Botanical Description of suffering their mortification to become apparent. But

the various parts of a Flower, and the Dial of Flowers. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea, and Blanchard.

we are embarked in the cause of Southern Literature, and (with perfect amity to all sections) wish to claim This is a very pretty and very convenient volume, especially as a friend and co-operator, every Southern on a subject which, since the world began, has never Journal. We repeat, therefore, that we are grieved to failed to excite curiosity and sympathy in all who have see a disposition of hostility, entirely unprovoked, maa proper sense of the beautiful. It contains 240 pages, nifested on the part of Mr. Whittaker. He should and 24 finely colored engravings, which give a vivid idea reflect, that while we ourselves cannot for a moment of the original plants. These engravings are the Meadow believe him otherwise than perfectly upright and sinAnemone-the Harebell—the Christmas Rose-the Dah-cere in his animadversions upon our Magazine, still lia-the Evening Primrose-the Fox-Glove-the Helio- there is hardly one individual in ninety-nine who wil trope—the Purple Iris—the Jasmine—the King-Cup-the not attribute every ill word he says of us to the inst Lavender-the Mezercon-the Narcissus-the Orchis-gations of jealousy.

MSS. OF JOHN RANDOLPH. [We have obtained, after much difficulty, from a personal friend of the late JOHN RANDOLPH of Roanoke, the MSS. of the annexed Letters, and are permitted to publish them in the Messenger. We know our readers will receive them with interest. They throw much novel light on the character of a man whose genius, however great, has been mostly an enigma, and show his views on the most interesting of subjects in the maturity of his life and in the zenith of his reputation.]

LETTER I.

As well as very bad implements and worse eyes will permit me to do it by candlelight, I will endeavor to make some return to your kind letter, which I received, not by Quashee, but the mail. I also got a short note by him, for which I thank you.

And now, my dear friend, one word in your ear-in the porches of thine ear. With Archimedes I may cry Expna. Why, what have you found-the philosopher's stone? No-something better than that. Gyges' ring? No. A substitute for bank paper? No. The elixir vitæ then? It is; but it is the elixir of eternal life. It is that peace of God which passeth all understanding, and which is no more to be conceived of by the natural heart, than poor St. George* can be made to feel and taste the difference between the Italian and German music. It is a miracle, of which the person upon whom it is wrought alone is conscious-as he is conscious of any other feeling-e. g. whether the friendship he professes for A or B be a real sentiment of his heart, or simulated to serve a turn.

No. VIII.

FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

bornly held out, for more than a Trojan siege, against the goodness and mercy of my Creator. Yes--Troy town did not so long and so obstinately resist the confederated Greeks. But what is the wrath of the swiftfooted Achilles to the wrath of God? and what his speed to the vengeance of Heaven? and what are these even, to the love of Jesus Christ, thou son of David? I had often asked, but it was not with sufficient humility; or, perhaps, like the Canaanitish woman, God saw fit to try me. I sought, but not with sufficient diligenceat last, deserted in my utmost need, (not indeed like Darius, great and good-for I could command service, such as we too often pay to God-lip service and eye service,) desolate and abandoned by all that had given me reason to think they had any respect and affection for me, I knocked with all my might. I asked for the crumbs that otherwise might be swept out to the dogs, and it was opened to me, the full and abundant treasury of his grace. When this happened I cannot tell. It has broken upon me like the dawn I see every morning, insensibly changing darkness into light. My slavish fears of punishment, which I always knew to be sinful, but would not put off, are converted into an humble hope of a seat, even if it be the lowest, in the courts of God. Yes, at last I am happy-as happy as man can be. Should it please God to continue his favor to me, you will see it-not only on my lips, but in my life. Should he withdraw it, as assuredly he will, unless with his assistance I hurably endeavor by prayer and self-denial, and doing of his word as well as hearing it, to obtain its continuance, mine will only be the deeper damnation. Of this danger I am sensible, but not afraid. I mean slavishly afraid. He that hath not quenched the smoking flax, who has snatched me as a brand from the burning, will not, I humbly yet firmly trust, cast me back into the furnace. I now know the meaning of words that before I repeated, but did not comprehend. God, my dear friend, hath visited me in my desola-I am no Burley of Balfour, but I have been, as I thought, tion; in the hours of darkness, of sickness, and of soron the very verge and brink of his disease; but I prayed row: of that worst of all sickness, sickness of the heart, to God to save me, and not to suffer me to fall a prey for which neither wealth nor power can find or afford to the arts and wiles of Satan, at the very moment I a cure. May you, my dear friend, find it, where alone was seeking his reconcilement. it is to be found! in the sacred volume-in the word I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak the of God, whose power surpasseth all that human imagi-words of truth and soberness. I have thrown myself, nation (unassisted by his grace) can conceive. I am reeking with sin, on the mercy of God, through Jesus now, for the first time in my life, supplied with a motive Christ his blessed Son and our (yes, my friend, our) of action that never can mislead me-the love of God precious Redeemer; and I have assurance as strong as and my neighbor-because I love God. All other mo- that I now owe nothing to your Bank, that the debt is tives I feel, by my own sad experience, in my own paid-and now I love God, and with reason. I once person, as well as in that of numerous "friends," (so hated him, and with reason too, for I knew not Christ. called) to be utterly worthless. God hath at last given The only cause why I should love God is his goodness me courage to confess him before men. Once I hated and mercy to me through Christ. But for this, the lion mankind-bitterly hated them-but loved (like that and the sea-serpent would not be more appalling to my wretched man Swift) "John or Thomas." Now, my imagination, than a being of tremendous and indefinite regard for individuals is not lessened, but my love for power, who made me what I am-who wanted either the race exalted almost to a level with that of my the will or the ability to prevent the existence of evil, friends—I am obliged to use the word. I pretend to no and punishes what is inevitable. This is not a God, sudden conversion, or new or great lights. I have stub- but a Devil, and all unbelievers in God tremble and believe in this Devil that they worship-such worship VOL. II.-59

His nephew, who is deaf and dumb.