perate, firm, kind, unus'd to flattering lies,
Adverse to th' world, adverse to me of old.
Oftimes alone and mournful. Evermore
Most pensive--all unmov'd by hope or fear:
By shame made timid, and by anger brave--
My subtle reason speaks; but, ah! I rave,
'Twixt vice and virtue, hardly know to steer
Death may for me have FAME and rest in store.

There is an abundance of Sonnets and short pieces which would dovetail
in our columns, were we tempted by their merit to extract them; but, in
place of enumerating them, we notice the Engravings, some of which are
excellent specimens of art. Among these is a Portrait of THE KING, by
Ensom, from a painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence, in the collection of Sir
William Knighton, Bart. Next is Ada, a Portrait of a Young Lady,
delicately engraved by T.A. Dean, after Sir Thomas Lawrence. The print
is about the size of a crown-piece, a perfect _gem--a bijou_ in itself.
The African Daughter, by Sangster, from a picture by Bonington, abounds
with vigorous and effective touches; some of the lights are extremely
brilliant. Next is the Portrait of Mrs. Arbuthnot, by W. Ensom, from the
President's picture, full of grace and life, and richly meriting the
term exquisite: nothing can be finer than the dark luxuriant hair
contrasted with the alabaster delicacy and elegance of the features; the
eyes too beam with benignant expressiveness. Wilkie's Bag-Piper has been
powerfully engraved by Aug. Fox; and a Portrait of Lady Jane Grey, after
De Heere, is an interesting variety. Milton composing Paradise Lost,
from a drawing by Stothard, is far from our taste; but the Blue Bell, by
Fox, from a picture by W.A. Hastings, somewhat atones for the previous
failure: its prettiness is of the first class.

Our notice has extended to all the Engravings except one--Rosalind and
Celia--about which, the less said the better. There are, perhaps, too
many portraits in the collection, but taken apart, they are among the
first-rate productions of their class.

* * * * *

THE FORGET-ME-NOT.

Eighty-three pieces in verse and prose are the _modicum_ of
entertainment in this delightful little work. Of course we cannot
enumerate a quarter of their titles, but only mention a few of the most
striking. Among the prose is "A Quarter of an Hour too soon," by the
author of "The Hour too many," in the last Forget-Me-Not. Our favourite
story is _The Red Man_, by the Mod