unpleasant of them, and to see them during a favourable phasis, in order to regard them with that Christian complacency which a good heart sheds over all its habits. 'Tis unlucky for November -poor fellow-that he follows October. October is a month so much admired by the world, that we often wonder he has not been spoiled, "What a glorious October!'' 66 Why, you will surely not leave us till October comes !" "October is the month of all months-and till you see him, you have not seen the Lakes." We acknowledge his claims. He is often truly delightful. But like other brilliant persons, he is not only privileged to be at times extremely dull, but his intensest stupidity is panegyrized as wit of the first water-while his not unfrequent rudeness, of which many a common month would be ashamed, passes for the ease of high birth, or the eccentricity of genius. A very different feeling indeed exists towards unfortunate November. The moment he shows his face, all other faces are glum. We defy month or man, under such a trial, to make himself even tolerably agreeable. He feels that he is no favourite, and that a most sinister misinterpretation will be put on all his motions, manners, thoughts, words, and deeds. A man or a month so circumstanced is much to be pitied. Think, look, speak, act as he will-yea, even more like an angel than a man or a month- every eyebrow arches -every nostril distends-every lip curls towards him in contempt, while blow over the ice that enchains all his feelings and faculties heavy-chill whisperings of "who is that disagreeable fellow?" In such a frozen atmosphere would not eloquence be congealed on the lips of an Ulysses, and poetry prosified on those of an Apollo !

Give then, we say, the devil his due, and November is company for any Christian. Believe us, that the celestial phenomena are now often exceedingly and singularly beautiful.

Blackwood's Magazine.

NUISANCES OF LONDON.

Bells of all kinds and descriptions. I Do not object to the sound of the church-going bell of Cowper (though, to tell the truth, I always considered the phrase to be a bull, for I never yet knew of a bell that went to church); but I do object to the street-walking bells with the utmost vehemence. The postman- the dustman-the muffinman-all and sundry, are objects of my detestation. Have you ever had the misfortune

of walking in the same line with one of ' these worthies along a street of any length? If you have, you will perfectly agree with me, particularly if you happened to have had a deaf man for your companion.

The pretence for giving the privilege of splitting our ears to these peculiar persons, I never could comprehend. If the getting rid of your dust be a matter to be proclaimed by sound of bell, why not the getting of your daily provender; and yet nobody arms the hand of the car-borne butcher's boy with a jingling instrument to announce his approach. If the thin small voice of the muffineer's ring be justifiable, why is not the baker let loose upon us, to sound his quarterns into our ears? We should have all in the ring, or nothing.

But the postman, you will say, is requisite, to remind the people of the necessity of having their letters ready.What is this but a bounty upon idleness, which should be contended against by the Malthusian philosophers, on the same principle that actuates them in their tender hearted opposition to the poor laws. We need no such flappers for the two-penny post-nothing to suggest to us, that if we do not put our billet-doux to the fair Flora of the romantic region of Hampstead into the gaping letter-box of our neighbour, the cheesemonger, before four o'clock, she will be destined to retire to rest uncheered by our tender sentences, and deprived perhaps of sleep for the night—or, what is worse, haunted by hideous dreams of wandering lonely by herself upon the solitary shore. Nobody fancies that a general bell-ringing is requisite or necessary for this; how then can it be maintained that an army of red-coated tintinnabulists are called for to remind the greasy citizens of the time when their letters about calico, or cheese, or consols, or smoothing irons, or the other plebeian concerns, that can afford any pretext for writing to the provinces on a given day, has arrived. Depend upon it if the bell was suppressed, these rogues would not miss a post in the year for the want of it. The consideration of this matter is humbly suggested to my friend Sir Francis Freeling.-Fraser's Mag.

BY ANNA MARIA PORTER.
To a Lady, with a Nosegay of Myrtles,
Geraniums, &c.

These modest flowers alone
SUMMER'S frail tribes are gone,

Remain to offer on a bridal morn

Oh, may their beauty prove,
Types of thy wedded love,

Beauty uncoupled with the dreaded thorn.

A THOUGHT OF PARADISE.

We receive but what we give,
And in our Life alone does Nature live:
Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud!
And would we aught behold, of higher worth
Than that inanimate cold world, allow'd
To the poor, loveless, ever anxious crowd;
Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud,
Enveloping the Earth-

And from the soul itself must there be sent
A sweet and potent voice of its own birth,
Of all sweet sounds the life and element.

Coleridge.

GREEN spot of holy ground,
If thou couldst yet be found,
Far in deep woods, with all thy starry flowers;
If not one sullying breath,

Of Time, or change, or Death,
Had touch'd the vernal glory of thy bowers;

Might our tired Pilgrim feet,
Worn by the Desert's heat,
On the bright freshness of thy turf repose;
Might our eyes wander there

Through Heaven's transparent air,
And rest on colours of th' immortal Rose:

Say, would thy balmy skies
And fountain-melodies

Our heritage of lost delight restore?

Could thy soft honey-dews
Through all our veins diffuse

The early, child-like, trustful sleep once more?

And might we, in the shade
By thy tall Cedars made,

With angel voices high communion hold?
Would their sweet solemn tone
Give back the music gone,

Our Being's harmony, so jarr'd of old?

Vain thought-thy sunny hours
Might come with blossom-showers,

All thy young leaves to spirit-lyres might thrill;
But we should we not bring

Into thy realms of spring,

The shadows of our souls to haunt us still?

What could thy flowers and airs

Do for our earth-born cares?

The Topographer.

TRAVELLING NOTES IN SOUTH WALES.
NO. II.

"A chiel's amang ye taking notes,
And faith he'll prent them!"

Neath Abbey.-As we shall elsewhere
have occasion to remark, the interest of
the traveller in Wales is greatly en-
hanced by the numerous remains of
antiquity which still survive the wreck
of time. We slightly alluded to Neath
Abbey in our first paper, and now give
a few notes on its history. Neath is
the Nidum of Antoninus, and its abbey
possesses some historical interest. Here
Edward II. fled for refuge, and was
taken prisoner. No idea can be formed
of the ancient size of the edifice from
the appearance it now presents, but the
antiquary will readily trace its remains
every where around, which testify that
it once must have been of great extent
and magnificence: indeed, it is called
by Leland "the fairest in all Wales."
The abbey, which was dedicated to the
Holy Trinity, was finished by Sir Richard
de Granavalla, in 1129. The monks were
of the Cistercian order; and we are told
it was endowed with very extensive pos-
sessions. At the dissolution of monas-
teries, the revenues were valued at 1507.
We find that in 1650 it
per annum.
formed a seat of the Hoby family. The
situation, ruined as it now is by the
smoke of iron and copper works, must
once have been very delightful. The
great western window and part of the
walls have fallen, we were told, within
these few years;-what now remain
forms part of a quadrangle, with lancet
windows. The gates, hall, and gallery
are still preserved; and the arms of

free?

No.-past each living stream

Still would some fever-dream

Track the lorn wanderers, meet no more for

thee.

three horsemen's crests quartered by three chevrons, may be seen sculptured in the walls. Venerable in its decay, this edifice still presents much to interest the intelligent observer; but its present condition is highly discreditable to the proprietor. There are also the remains of a castle of Neath, but they possess no interest. We omitted to state that this town is principally indebted for its prosperity to its river (of the same name), which is navigable for coasting vessels up to the bridge across the great road.

Swansea. This town has long been celebrated as a watering or bathingplace, and though Tenby and Aberystwith are now much more frequented, yet numbers still resort to Swansea, which certainly presents many features

to interest and amuse the traveller or the valetudinarian: we speak of the adjoining district, for the town, in consequence of its vicinity to the copperworks, is rendered during some winds very unpleasant; for instance, the villages of Oystermouth, Norton, &c., are delightfully situated, and very healthy, as we shall show hereafter. Swansea, which is in every respect the most important town in the principality of Wales, is situated near the centre of an extensive bay, along the entrance of the river Tawe with the Bristol Channel, whence its Welsh name of Aber-tawe, meaning the junction of a lesser body of water with a larger, as Aber-avon, Aberystwith, &c. We have formerly alluded to the system of Welsh boroughs. Swansea, in conjunction with Cardiff and six others, returns a member to parliament. Few places in the kingdom have risen so rapidly in importance as this town. The population, in 1801, was 6,099; in 1811, 8,166; in 1821, 10,255 (not including sailors and others, amounting together to about 1,000 persons); while at the present period, we were told on good authority, that, taking in Morriston, &c., its population approaches to 20,000 persons. We shall have occasion particularly to describe the Bay, which is justly celebrated in our account of the Peninsula of Gower it is indeed considered to resemble very nearly the Bay of Naples. The beach, which extends towards the Mumbles its western extremity for five miles, consists of a fine hard sand for nearly two-thirds of the distance, and is at all times a delightful walk or ride, particularly at ebb and flood tide. We have sometimes, on occasion of the wind shifting after being long adverse, counted between one and two hundred sail of vessels in the bay. There is a steam communication with the rapidly-rising town of Ilfracombe, on the opposite coast of Devon. The climate of Swansea, in common with the western portion of the island, may be considered dump; it is, however, exceedingly mild. The appearance of the Devonshire coast, distant about twentyfive miles, is considered an index to the weather, for in consequence of the increased moisture of the atmosphere, before rain it appears surprisingly near and distinct. Swansea regatta, through the spirited exertions of Mr. Vivian and other resident gentlemen, has, within a few years, become much noted, and is attended by crowds from Bristol and Devon. Few places are so delightfully situated for the purpose. This truly British sport is, indeed, every where

increasing in interest and attraction. Swansea Harbour, which is perhaps the easiest of access to shipping in the kingdom, is dry at low water, which is a serious impediment to the prosperity of the town. It might easily be made always a floating harbour; in which case, large West India and other foreign ships would trade direct here, and South Wales supplied with foreign_produce, without drawing such supplies from Bristol as at present. The depth of water in high spring tides is twenty-four feet, and there are rarely less than ten feet at neaps over the bar. Two extensive piers form the outer harbour, which is capable of holding several hundred sail of vessels, and form a safe and convenient place of refuge in stormy weather for the craft in the Channel: the western pier extends about three hundred yards in length, and that on the eastern side six hundred yards, with an opening of eighty yards between the pier-heads. The act for this improvement was passed in 1791. The piers, however, have been built with shameful materials, a part having already been rebuilt; and the whole must shortly be constructed anew. The river, along the sides of which shipping lie for a mile up to the Hafod Copper Works, has been much deepened of late years, by confining its course with high banks of copper-dag, which has also been successfully tried at Neath. It has been said that the town is solely indebted for its prosperity to the erection of the copper-works near; we should say rather, it is to its extensive coal-field and situation, which induce capitalists to settle here, that it owes its commercial importance. The commerce of the port has increased in a commensurate degree with the population. In 1812, the number of foreign ships outward was 96; in 1819, 449. The coasting trade exhibits a great extension: In 1812, coasters inward, 943; in 1819, ditto, 1556-in 1812, coasters outward, 1,883; in 1819, ditto, 2,280: sincewhich the commerce has increased a third.The main imports consist of copper ore; but there is also a very extensive coasting, and some foreign, trade.

As to the society at Swansea, it is better to remain silent; no party can then take umbrage: we may however mention, en passant, that there is a host of attorneys. At the present time, when so many of our absentees have been forced to take refuge in their native country, numbers will be looking out for a cheap residence. Swansea certainly has its lights and shadows; but

the market is, as our continental neighbours would say, superbe. In point of cheapness, we can with truth declare that few districts in the kingdom exceed it, excepting Ireland. The roads about Swansea are absolutely blocked up on the market-days (Wednesday and Saturday) by country people, loaded with provisions, some of whom come between twenty and thirty miles; and what are in many parts of the South of England considered luxuries, are here to be purchased at very low rates. An excellent supply of fish is now also secured from the Worms Head, on the coast of Gower. Carmarthen Bay, by the way, if properly attended to, would perhaps be the finest fishing station in the kingdom.We are aware that these remarks on the cheapness of provisions will apply to Wales generally, but the Swansea market, in point of extent and variety, is we believe very far superior to any in the principality. In Wales and the West of England (we more particularly speak of Devon, which far exceeds Wales) the necessaries of life may be obtained on an average quite as low as in any of those parts of the Continent frequented by our countrymen. Indeed, Mr. Best, in his "Four Years in France," has given an estimate, founded on the most accurate data, of the relative cost of living in England and on the Continent, by which it appears that, including every charge, the expenses are balanced. Swansea is on the whole not a wellbuilt town, though it contains several good streets; but the march of improvement has yet to reach the builders here. We observed a large and handsome chapel, belonging to the singular sect of Jumpers it was built last year, and proves that the sect must be progressing. Many of the houses of the commoner sort in the town and neighbourhood, as well as public works, are constructed with copper slag, cast into blocks, which, for durability, must certainly exceed any other material whatever. The remains of Swansea Castle, which were once of great extent, and are still considerable, are more interesting to the antiquarian than the tourist. It was erected by Henry Beaumont, Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry I. There is a massive quadrangular tower, of singular construction, still in existence, which has a series of light arches round the top, supporting a parapet, having turrets at each angle. The castle, which is situated in the centre of the town, has a fine effect from the river: part of it is now used for the town-hall, part for the old market. and as a jail for prisoners

for debt for the liberty of Gower. Near the castle are the extensive remains of the old mansion-house of the lords of the manor; it is the most interesting building in the town, but is in a state of shameful neglect and ruin. Over the gate which formerly existed, were the arms of William Earl of Pembroke, and of Henry VIII., quartering Sir George Herbert, steward of Gower. The best, indeed a splendid view is obtained of the town and bay of Swansea, extending like a vast panorama, from the town hill adjoining Mount Pleasant.

The Gatherer.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
SHAKSPEARE..

A GENEROUS SINGER AND A GENEROUS

TAILOR.

FARINELLI, the Italian opera - singer, whose voice and abilities seem to have surpassed the limits of all anterior vocal excellence, having ordered a superb suit of clothes for a gala at court, when the tailor brought it home, he asked him for his bill," I have made no bill, sir," says the tailor, "nor ever shall make one. Instead of money," continued he, "I have a favour to beg. I know that what I want is inestimable, and only fit for monarchs; but since I have had the honour to work for a person of whom every one speaks with rapture, all the payment I shall require will be a song.' Farinelli tried in vain to prevail on the tailor to take his money. At length, after a long debate, giving way to the humble entreaties of the tradesman, and flattered perhaps more by the singularity of the adventure than by all the applause he had hitherto received, he took him into his music-room, and sung to him some of his most brilliant airs, taking pleasure in the astonishment of his ravished hearer, and the more he seemed surprised and affected, the more Farinelli exerted himself in every species of excellence. When he had done, the tailor, overcome with ecstacy, thanked him in the most rapturous and grateful manner, and prepared to retire. "No," said Farinelli, "I am a little proud; and it is perhaps from that circumstance that I have acquired some small degree of superiority over other singers; I have given way to your weakness, it is but fair, that in your turn, you should indulge me in mine;" and taking out his purse, he insisted on his receiving a sum amounting to nearly double the worth of the suit of clothes,

A DESERTER.

A NAVAL officer, who held a civil employment at Rhode Island, during the American war of independence, and who was of a spare skeleton-like figure, was stopped by a sentinel late one night on his return from a visit, and shut up in the sentry-box, the soldier declaring that he should remain there until his officer came his rounds at twelve o'clock. "My good fellow," said Mr. W--, "I have told you who I am, and I really think you ought to take my word." "It will not do," replied the soldier; "I am by "Then," taking from his pocket a quarter of a dollar, and presenting it, will that satisfy you ? "Why, yes, I think it will.""And now that I am released, pray tell me why you detained me at your post?" "I apprehended you," said the soldier, "as a deserter from the church-yard."

no means satisfied."

The above officer, when a young man, and a stranger in London, stopped a gentleman to ask the way to the Admiralty. "Are you not mistaken in your inquiry?" said the gentleman; " I should think that your business lies with the Victualling-Office.". United Service Journal.

and attended by his dog.

He thinks, however, that the tree wants execution, and that the painter has not done justice "" Lord Mansfield observed to the dog.' that he should be apt to excuse the libel for the sake of the wit."

SOME years ago, a man carried about Scarborough a bag, in which he said he flocked to see this wonderful phenomehad a cherry-coloured cat. The gentry non; and when he had collected as much as he could, produced his cat, which was a black one. Being upbraided for the imposition: "Nay, gentlemen," said he, "I have not deceived you for you know there are black cherries as well as red ones."

A CLERGYMAN had a milk white horse, which, on account of his beautiful form, he called Sion. Having ordered his horse to the door, a friend asked him

Because it makes them smart.

"to mount Sion."

EATING MATCH.

A SHORT time ago there was a famous eating match at a village in Yorkshire, between two men, named Gubbins and Muggins, which caused a great deal of interest in the neighbourhood: a countryman, leaving the place a little before the match was decided, was stopped by almost every one on the road, with Who beats ?--how does the match get on ?" &c. to which he answered, "Why, I doant exactly knaw

they say Gubbins 'll get it; but I thinks Muggins 'll beat un yet, for when I left he was oanly two geese and a turkey behind him."