great services obtain the reward that my very small ones met with from this amiable woman. She never could look on a forget-me-not without being forcibly reminded of all the circumstances in which we had both taken a part, and frequently did she like to dwell on past events, and recall all the delightful alarms that she had suffered on her dear Albert's account, whom, by-the-bye, she invariably called Ernest on those occasions. Nor did the prince himself forget his former friend; indeed, he was more cordial and open than I ever had found him as the lieutenant; and how I blessed my prudence in never having let him suspect my incipient fancy to the lovely Leopoldine! Certainly, if I had not known how to hold my own tongue, I should not have risen to the rank of general, nor have retired with an ample pension, and have been gratified with a beautiful estate on the bank of one of Germany's most lovely rivers. For, although as long as my good elector lived, I never left him except on occasional furloughs, for the purpose of visiting my royal patrons, at his death I was induced to enter a regiment formed by Prince Albert, to whom I, from thenceforward, transferred my services, and I may add, my loyalty and devotion.

"You were prophetic!" said I the day after I was invested with my new title, to Leopoldine, now become queen, "when your majesty was pleased to call me General Heldenstein on the first day of our acquaintance."

"I am truly glad," said she graciously, "that what I said par distraction should really have come to pass."

"Confess the truth," said I; " at the moment you were so liberal in your military promotions, you wished me-anywhere rather than where I was."

"At this distance of time," replied Leopoldine, slightly colouring, "it would be perhaps difficult to recall my actual sentiments with regard to you. That all that has followed since has been decidedly favourable to you, I can safely vouch for."

I made a respectful bow.

"Do you know, general," continued she, "that the three most agreeable recollections I have, are all directly or indirectly connected with yourself? And let me tell you, that they have probably all, in some degree, conduced to your advancement. For little as you men are willing to admit our influence in the world of politics, how many are there who have made their way solely and entirely through men? To return to my proposition, the first cause is a certain album, which you no doubt recollect; the second, a little nosegay, which you remember; and the third, let me see-"

well

"The tulips!" cried Albert, entering the room, having overheard the latter part of our conversation. "And he shall henceforth have one in his armorial bearings; but, Leopoldinchen, how you have arrangé our poor general:-pray admit a fourth cause, his valour, of which you think nothing, but which I highly prize."

And I murmured to myself, let the fifth cause be my discretion, but I only bowed very low, and knowing this to be the hour of relaxation, which the king generally devoted to his dear Leopoldine, I obeyed the dictates of that valuable quality, and leaving the room, gently closed the door on the royal pair.

RICH RELATIONS.

BY MRS. ABDY.

YE, who are haunted by a band
Of kinsmen poor and needy,
Still fostering with reluctant hand
The thankless and the greedy;
How will ye smile when I complain,
How mock my lamentations-
Alas! my every care and pain
Arise from rich relations!

When first I entered life's career,

Thus spoke my wary mother-
Son, you'll inherit, never fear,
The riches of my brother;
He occupies, the wise ones say,
A little Rothschild's station,
Be prudent, saving, try each way
To please your rich relation.
"Your father's aunt declines apace,
She owns five thousands yearly,
Deems perjured men a worthless race,
And loves dumb creatures merely ;
Her squirrel coax-aspire to fix
Her poodle's approbation,

Don't mind her monkey's playful tricks,
But court your rich relation."

My uncle's slightest hints I heed,
His taste I please completely,
His correspondent's letters read,
And write his answers neatly;
I wield a slate, profusely scrawled
With many a calculation,
In all (save payment) I'm installed
Clerk to my rich relation.

I say and do whate'er I'm told,
My time ne'er idly lingers,
Thick clumsy shoes my feet enfold,

And worsted gloves my fingers;

I vote gay waistcoats, seals, and rings,

Mere useless decoration,

"Young men should wear plain, homely things,"

Thus says my rich relation.

He hates to see a rhyming book

A stripling's table cumber;"

Since then I've locked up Lalla Rookh,

And let Childe Harold slumber :

Marmion lies torn, and Christabel

Takes on the shelf her station,

I even shun sweet L. E. L.

To please my rich relation. My great aunt's pet menagerie, Around me daily capers,

And once a week I go to tea,

Read through two penny papers,

And then a hand of cribbage take,

By way of recreation,

Three games for twopence is the stake,
Fixed by my rich relation!

Though often she contrives to cheat,
I never dare to wrangle;

Meanwhile her monkey climbs my seat,
My hair to twist and tangle;
One night he tightened my cravat,
Almost to strangulation,

And but received a smile and pat,
From my kind rich relation!

I'm sent about from dawn to dark
On some absurd commission,
I never stroll across the Park,
Nor see the Exhibition;

My friends begin to pout and lower,
And cease their invitations;
He cannot boast one leisure hour,
Who owns two rich relations.

This mode of life I loathe and fear,
Would I could try some other,
Would I could fly-hold! what is here?
A letter from my mother!

I guess the reason why she writes,
Some precious accusations,

A lecture for some fancied slights

Shown to my rich relations.

Stay-" All our hopes, dear boy, are fled,
Prepare for grief and pity,

The fall of Spanish Bonds has spread
A panic through the city :
Your uncle's all he rashly set

On one vast speculation,

We fear next Saturday's Gazette
Will see our rich relation!

"Your aunt, you know, for flying gout,
Last month, to Bath resorted,

A foreign count her wealth found out,
Herself and poodle courted ;

His sable whiskers, sallow cheek,

And lengthy appellation,

Have turned her head-next Friday week,

He'll wed our rich relation !"

Huzza! my raptures will not brook
The labour of concealing,

Henceforth I'll think, read, dress, and look,

With independent feeling!

Like Sinbad, I'm at last set free,

For brisk perambulations,

I've dropped my Old Man of the Sea,

I've lost my rich relations!

Emancipators-see me stand

In liberty's possession,

Senates, without your helping hand,
I'm rescued from oppression;
Match me the triumph if ye can,
Surrounding lands and nations,
Felt by a free-born Englishman,
Released from rich relations.

MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY.

We have it in our power to favour our readers with a specimen of the forthcoming new novel, by Captain Marryat, which holds out the promise of excelling all his hitherto excellent naval novels.

CHAPTER I.

Which the reader will find very easy to read.

Mr. Nicodemus Easy was a gentleman who lived down in Hampshire; he was a married man, and in very easy circumstances. Most couples find it very easy to have a family, but not always quite so easy to maintain them. Mr. Easy was not at all uneasy on the latter score, as he had no children; but he was anxious to have them, as most people covet what they cannot obtain. After ten years, Mr. Easy gave it up as a bad job. Philosophy is said to console a man under disappointment, although Shakspeare asserts that it is no remedy for tooth-ache; so Mr. Easy turned philosopher, the very best profession a man can take up, when he is fit for nothing else; he must be a very incapable person indeed who cannot talk nonsense. For some time, Mr. Easy could not decide upon what description his nonsense should consist of; at last he fixed upon the rights of man, equality, and all that: how every person was born to inherit his share of the earth, a right at present only admitted to a certain length; that is, about six feet, for we all inherit our graves, and are allowed to take possession without dispute. But no one would listen to Mr. Easy's philosophy. The women would not acknowledge the rights of men, whom they declared always to be in the wrong; and, as the gentlemen who visited Mr. Easy were all men of property, they could not perceive the advantages of sharing with those who had none. However, they allowed him to discuss the question, while they discussed his port wine. The wine was good if the arguments were not, and we must take things as we find them in this world.

While Mr. Easy talked philosophy, Mrs. Easy played patience, and they were a very happy couple, riding side by side on their hobbies, and never interfering with each other. Mr. Easy knew his wife could not understand him, and therefore did not expect her to listen very attentively; and Mrs. Easy did not care how much her husband talked provided she was not put out in her game. Mutual forbearance will always ensure domestic felicity.

There was another cause for their agreeing so well. Upon any disputed question Mr. Easy invariably gave it up to Mrs. Easy, telling her that she should have her own way-and this pleased his wife; but, as Mr. Easy always took care, when it came to the point, to have his way, he was pleased as well. It is true that Mrs. Easy had long found out that she did not have her own way long; but she was of an easy disposition, and as, in nine cases out of ten, it was of very little

consequence how things were done, she was quite satisfied with his submission during the heat of the argument. Mr. Easy had admitted that she was right, and if, like all men, he would do wrong, why what could a poor woman do? With a lady of such a quiet disposition, it is easy to imagine that the domestic felicity of Mr. Easy was not easily disturbed. But, as people have observed before, there is a mutability in human affairs. It was at the finale of the eleventh year of their marriage that Mrs. Easy at first complained that she could not enjoy her breakfast. Mrs. Easy had her own suspicions, everybody else considered it past doubt, all except Mr. Easy; he little "thought, good easy man, that his greatness was repining;" he had decided that to have an heir was no Easy task, and it never came into his calculations, that there could be a change in his wife's figure. You might have added to it, subtracted from it, divided it, multiplied it, but as it was a zero, the result would be always the same. Mrs. Easy also was not quite sure-she believed it might be the case, there was no saying; it might be a mistake, like that of Mrs. Trunnion's in the novel, and therefore she said nothing to her husband about the matter. At last Mr. Easy opened his eyes, and when, upon interrogating his wife, he found out the astounding truth, he opened his eyes still wider, and then he snapped his fingers, and danced, like a bear upon hot plates, with delight, thereby proving that different causes may produce similar effects in two instances at one and the same time. The bear dances from pain, Mr. Easy from pleasure; and again, when we are indifferent, or do not care for any thing, we snap our fingers at it, and when we are overjoyed and obtain what we most care for, we also snap our fingers. Two months after Mr. Easy snapped his fingers, Mrs. Easy felt no inclination to snap hers, either from indifference or pleasure. The fact was, that Mrs. Easy's time was come, to undergo what Shakspeare pronounces, "the pleasing punishment that women bear," but Mrs. Easy, like the rest of the sex, declared, "that all men were liars," and most particularly poets.

But while Mrs. Easy was suffering, Mr. Easy was in ecstacies. He laughed at pain, as all philosophers do when it is suffered by other people, and not by themselves.

In due course of time, Mrs. Easy presented her husband with a fine boy, whom we present to the public as our hero.

CHAPTER II.

In which Mrs. Easy, as usual, has her own way.

It was the fourth day after Mrs. Easy's confinement that Mr. Easy, who was sitting by her bedside in an easy chair, commenced as follows: “ I have been thinking, my dear Mrs. Easy, about the name I shall give this child."

“ Name, Mr. Easy ! why, what name should you give it but your own?"

"Not so, my dear," replied Mr. Easy; "they call all names proper names, but I think that mine is not. It is the very worst name in the calendar."