chery light up the finest affections to cherish drooping
nature, and guide our footsteps along this world of weal and woe. To
be more explicit, the character of the present volume is well told by
Mr. Haynes Bayly in its second page:--

a gift that friend to friend
At parting will deliver;
And love with his own name will blend
The dear name of the giver.
So pure, so blameless is this book,
That wise and wary sages
Will lead young Innocence to look
Upon its tasteful pages.

We can only particularize a few of the most striking papers. Among the
metrical gems is _Conradin_, a fine battle-piece, by Mr. Charles
Swain; an _Every-day Tale_, by Montgomery--one of "the short and
simple annals of the poor," written in behalf of a Society for
relieving distressed females in the first month of their widowhood, to
save their little households from being broken up before they can
provide means for their future maintenance: and _Far-off Visions_, by
Mary Howitt. The prose gem of the volume, to our taste, is

_Giulietta, a Tale of the Fourteenth Century, by L.E.L.,_

which we abridge. The scene lies at Genoa, where Giulietta
Aldobrandini, being at the point of death, commits her three daughters
to the care of their uncle the Cardinal Aldobrandini. The Countess
dies, and the three girls, Constanza, Bianca, and Giulietta, having
sprung up into graceful womanhood, arrive at the Cardinal's palace.]

It was early in a spring evening when the Aldobrandini arrived at
their uncle's dwelling. It was an old and heavy-looking building.
Constanza and Bianca, as the massy gate swung behind them, on their
arrival in the dark, arched court, simply remarked that they were
afraid it would be very dull: but Giulietta's imagination was
powerfully impressed; a vague terror filled her mind, which the gloom
of the huge and still chambers through which they were ushered did not
tend to decrease. At length, they paused in a large vaulted room,
while the aged domestic went on, to announce them to the cardinal.
Giulietta glanced around: the purple hangings were nearly black with
age, so was the furniture, while the narrow windows admitted shadows
rather than light. Some portraits hung on the walls, all dignitaries
of the church; but the colour of their scarlet robes had faded with
time, and each wan and harsh face seemed to turn frowning on the
youthful strangers. A door opened, and they were ushered into the
presence o