The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-12-04 00:00:00

at about one-third of the usual selling prices,"
an edition of the British Poets, such as any na-
tion may be proud to possess.

The Poetry of Creation. In Seven Parts. By
Nicholas Michell. London : Chapman and
Hall.
The author of this tastefully got up volume
is already known, and that favourably, to the
literary world, as a writer of acknowledged merit.
The forerunners of the present being two poems
respectively named " Ruins of Many Lands," and
" Spirits of the Past," in addition to which he
has also published some minor poems. The one
now under consideration is a didactic poem,
founded upon a noble theme, and elaborated with
great care and skill. Its object, as stated by its
author, "is not so much to contemplate the
creation during its progress to perfection, as to
survey the finished features of the earth, and to
view Nature in her present aspects of beauty and
grandeur." In pursuance of this plan, the poet
has before him a widely comprehensive field for
contemplation, and although its plan does not
necessarily involve the full elucidation of such a
task, his undertaking would be less or more in-
complete did not his contemplative and inquiring
spirit range freely over the past and prophetically
dip into the future.
Before creation peopled earth,
Its eye shall roll through chaos back;
And where the furthest heaven had birth,
The spirit trace its rising track.
And where the future mars or makes,
Its glance dilate o'er all shall be,
While sun is quenched or system breaks,
Fixed in its own eternity.
Impressed with the truth of this self-imposed
rule, our author launches boldly, yet with a
reverent spirit, upon the mighty scheme of crea-
tion as that is unfolded to our observation in the
inspired p4ges of the Mosaic history, and illus-
trates it by rapid yet suggestive allusion to the
various lights thrown upon the subject by modern
science. From this cursory yet pleasing contem-
plation he passes rapidly to his main theme, and
" proceeds to view Nature in her present aspects
of beauty and grandeur." This he does with a
fulness of imagery and a richness of harmonised
expression which prove him to be deeply imbued
with the spirit of his subject. Some faint idea of
the poet's style and intent may be gleaned from
the following

APOSTROPHE TO THE EARTH'S CREATOR.
Come, seraphs! view this carpet spread,
Enamelling the earth's wide floor;—
The bosky vales, the hill's dew'd head,
The sky-roofed plain, the river's shore,
Are green, all living green, e'en meet
For holy angels' shining feet.
Then, too, the varied host behold,
Of herb and plant, and flower and tree,
Of every tint— white, green, and gold—
Of every size, and graceful mould,
Countless as stars in heaven may be.
It seems creation's bounteous Lord,
From the full storehouse of the sky,
A myriad glorious things had poured,
And bid them bloom beneath his eye ;
Each one a thought in that great mind;
Oh infinite ! all wise as kind!
Thus to adorn our world, and give
The germ by which those beauties live,
That earth may never lose her dress,
Her robe of bridal loveliness.

The poem, which is in seven parts—each part
contemplating a different phase of creative power
—concludes by a sweetly-painted picture of the
death-bed and dying scene of a pure-minded,
religious, and hopeful maiden, in which the re-
creative round is traced by the analogy of the
setting sun :

The maiden marks the red sun sink.
And faint and fainter on the brink
Of that flushed sea the sweet beams shine,
Till paling to a purple line :

,ARD.

[DECEMBER /1_,J...8

And where the light ? it bath not died)
But follows the blest orb of day,
Warming the world's far sloping slue'
dt
And making there creation gaY• tT
From the specimens given, the intelligent of tid
will be able to perceive that the 3'111,°,0c1
" Poetry of Creation s' is possessed 0i: %gill3llt
and a cultivated mind, and that he is
SinoSt tlt'ls
by true poetic fervour. The poem, likte,ied
,„bfi lee
of the present day, is copiously ill es esft'iitid
planatory notes, in which the antvr," sch,`eti
with ready acumen the different pheri°- by :"fit,,
serve as his machinery. The theories fereif
those phenomena are exhibited in ret
each other, are also briefly glanced '
plained. the jj
Adventures of My Cousin Smooth ; Ti
Quibbles of Great Governments. Pi „T
Templeton. London : W. Tweedie;bioore
This is a quizzical review of the , oonif)
'ouns" policy of General Pierce and IPO
5 a ~f
in the annexation line. The dispotesrso
those gentry contrive, like pegs to
drollery,
are glanced at in a, spirit of cv",sbel
t and in not a few instances "tbrok
raced in the reductio ad absurdum stYleid
numerous ramifications, the ridiculous er7be b 0
all of which is strongly brought out. '`,tif,e
professes to be a sort of allegorical nary;
diplomatic intercourse between .‘SolomonSill I
a 'cute representative of " Young Anierireosf;
which the British anti-annexation doctrOililq
smartly contrasted with our own practice.,,V.
the avowed object of the book is, by settlio;
prejudices of the British and the Anlerifelotto
strong light, to awaken the good sole
a perception of their mutually depeoerl-for i/11/(
towards each other. The points clOse,liviali4
tration are happily selected, and the w—
the matters in dispute is shown with
so
facility in the use of stinging banters ;ftia6e
humouredly thrown in as to avoid,;sls.o
rancour. In the good-humoured recie'tlle,
amount of sarcasm is let loose upoil held of
conceived " Universal Congress" lately tetiee:44
the European continent, in which the Pre,b- eteLr
America to dictate, or even to interfere Oa" oncV,
of European policy, are severely handle solo' of
posed. The " Adventures of My Cousin stsilei iv
are conceived and carried out in the 10j,
badinage and banter so happily ertill 1
i,"°;l'
"Knickerbocker's History of New Y°r-4..0r1:,1),
although not equal to that admirable goo"
delicacy of conception and raciness of °-
it is well-timed, and ably executed. (i,o,

New Music. Published by R. Cocks
London. .
We have before us several characteritlciep
tastefully-arranged ballads and other 'l.-011,„`It:;
pieces, including Longfellow's celebrated ser'oprl'i,
" Stars of the Summer Night," set to al3Pc'olclie;'
music by J. W. Hobbs ; and " The )-1-
Love," a song written by Lady Clarerrileeed
wedded to sweet music by Hobbs. "
Peeping in at the Window," a ballad tstfos')
by Bianchi Taylor ;" and The 5"; cpid
Knock." These are all got up and arrBl3eterisl,
the beauty and grace so generally charocm",
of the pieces which issue from this est 1_9.1_i!,/a

16

1
Ngre,
keg and twenty acres of land. Strange
kt " the donation with thankfulness and
S:4l his way, preaching and singing as he
1 6,1k4t But after a few months he returned, and
Need, his generous friend to take back the
lihe't• Surprised at the request, the gentle-
'i nuired_
1 'i: there any flaw in it ?"—"Not the slightest."
' 1 the land not good ?"—" First-rate."
c %.'t • a ;?a, ~
4 11,, it healthy . None more so."
ii iii'llY, then, do you wish me to take it back?
, 'W ue a comfortable home for you when you
,itl ?)li id, and something for your wife and chil-
f`'Wdrou should be taken away."
159', I'll tell you. Ever since I've lost my
Nmeat in singing, I can't sing my favourite
4atOitn a good conscience any longer."
is that

0441.'
V 57

ZNro foot of land do I possess,
"0 cottage in the wilderness,
, A poor wayfaring man.
1 fiC I dwell a while in tents below,
vA' gladly wander to and fro,
'Till I may Canaan gain.
CC Yondeea my house and portion fair,
t. My treasure
y abidingan h
and m
, ph. Ad m
'"were !" said Strange.
my heart are there,
" I'd rather sing that
than own America. I'll trust the Lord to
care of my wife and children."
continued singing and preaching, and
ping and singing ; and the Lord, said the
per,
,clid take care of him and his children
, hi AT
1
m*-I'ew York Telegraph.

lir`l',
wb"(

TELE DISCONTENTED VIOLETS.
AN ALLEGORY.
'"viol'
1

t; tkieliolets, beautiful, modest flowrets, once on
1 Y long, long ago, became foolish and dis-
ki tit
k tte ed. They sent up a petition to their
4t,ki and mother, the Fair Queen. " How
'et. aid they, petulantly, "are we doomed to
4t:Yttilltider our leaves, and bend beneath the
*aes that clings to the roots of the trees.
Ate hot as worthy to show our faces and assert
‘,le4ilt
4e/ice as yon gaudy tulip, or that upright
ktlie p?"
kph -airy Queen sent her foreign ambassador
tvease her discontented subjects. He flew
earth in a drop of rain, and cried to the
ie4(l violets, "Be assured you are more lovely
tt
4itteresting in your humble, unassuming
% than you can possibly be in one more
t‘tite. Your constitution will not admit of any
4 .in. your condition. Who ever heard of a
04tring violet 7"
kiinti. for that very reason," they all exclaimed,
0 eotugh time we assumed a more important
.„!lAtt Ilepicuous position in the flower world.
O:e been secluded long enough. We feel as
(Nient to hold up our heads as others. It is
c4tribondage to conceal any longer our purple-
-5,114,1' blossoms. Give us freedom ; let us see
61 e'bil S, and be seen."
N n-v airy Queen frowned and sighed, and rode
Si, vil a sunbeam to punish her disaffected sub-
kt et,:`,Oh, my children," she exclaimed, " be
k,,, V It is too late ; you are altogether.unfitted
Oee Position you seek. Be happy, be con-
-01,,, Thousands of happy violets have
IlisPee,l,
`"lig the moss and leaves, playing merry
Y,ltill" with the gentle summer zephyr and
li:11'e? sunbeams. What sweeter life could you
Oet.), it is far better you, should attract the
itlie s'Y to search for your sweet blossoms
~,Otit,e4llll°,. ft perfume you shed around, than if you
tilk-.teteltll in the face at every corner, your un-
t %,'L odours rudely dispersed by every wind
1,, wee.,,e,
04te,._1-' by. I will grant your request, nay
" but, alas ! it will be a fatal one for

:gde'

ier
Al6°
o 5

,e9l

you. No longer shall the village children, as
they come from school, loiter in the lanes, to
smell the pleasant scent of spring violets, and
laugh for joy when they spy the blue flowrets
*lurking behind the broad sheltering leaves. No
longer shall the weary denizen of the hot dusty
city inhale gratefully your perfumed breath on a
spring Sabbath, as he strays through the hedge-
rows. No more shall the eager lover search for
you in your green hiding-places, to lay you on
his mistress's bosom, and call her modest and ex-
quisite as yourselves. Never again shall the
duteous child with anxious eyes look diligently
for the odorous buds that will call a grateful
smile from the lips of a dying mother, as she
wanders back in memory to the hours passed
away, when she, light-hearted, young, and strong,
ran to the well-known bank where the fairest
violets were found. No more—but it is enough,
you will prove for yourselves the truth." She
folded her wings, and drooped her head, as she
slowly returned her bright chariot to Fairyland.
The prayer was granted. The violets suddenly
started up, tall and aspiring, upon straight high
stalks, and braved the full heat of the sun. They
were glorified for a brief space, but soon the
bright beams that danced in their eyes dazzled
and confused them. They longed for one leaf to
soften the intensity of the rays, but low at their
feet were these sweet. veils. A few repentant
flowers strove to stoop to the old and pleasant
couch where they had oft reclined in shady ease ;
their slender stems snapped in the effort, and they
lay broken and lifeless on the earth. Nor were
their proud companions more fortunate. One
hour scorched with heat, the next shivering in
the rough approaches of the varying wind, their
delicate colour faded, their fresh liquid beauty
fled : pale, scentless blossoms only remained, the
jest of the flower world. Rosy tulips flushed
deeper with scorn, and the full sweet rose looked
anxious and displeased. Even the bees, as they
wandered by, called no more to sing the sweet
flattery of old in their ears, but passed on without
recognition, to other fair blossoms, and their small
voices seemed to chant a solemn reproof. The sweet
primroses and buttercups mourned for their old
friends, and sighed for the olden days of happy
companionship. And the poor violet, the flower
of modesty, became a byword and a laughing-
stock. Quickly this foolish generation became
few in number, and faded in beauty. One by
one drooped, broken-hearted, and all their high
ambitious aspirings were quenched in cold death.
At last but two remained, poor broken monu-
ments upon the graves of their companions. The
pitying wind heard their despairing sighs, and
bore them tenderly and faithfully to Fairyland.
"Go, tell them," said the Fairy Queen, "their
punishment is severe, but merited. Yet, before
those survivors die, bear a message of forgiveness
and hope. Their own doom is sealed ; their un-
happy days are numbered, but from their ashes
shall arise a happier race. Bright, blue, and
sweet, shall be their children's faces. No traces
shall they inherit of their progenitors' weaknesses
and misfortunes. My love shall make them
beautiful and blest."

The soft wind whispered these sweet words in
the ears of the unhappy violets.
" We die content," they murmured, " but
hear, sweet zephyr, our last request, receive our
legacy. When our sweet representatives shall
bloom in the future spring-times, to you, oh !
breeze, we intrust this solemn charge : Tell them
our mournful story. Let them have the benefit
of our bitter experience, that they may learn their
chief happiness and only security is in humility.
If ever they confide to you a wish, a fancy that
reminds you of our fatal mistake, bear it far away,
oh ! breeze, upon your wings, and instil instead

the sweet spirit of content and lowliness: Thus, in
your voice, we, though silent, shall ever speak, and
our old friendship shall be a pledge for your
faithful guatdianship."
" It shall," sighed the breeze sadly : " Fare-
well !" and he hid his face. When he looked up,
he chanted a wild dirge of sorrow over the graves
of the dead violets.

HERALDRY AND HERALDS' COLLEGE.

THE house in which these artists in the decora-
tion of our personal vanity live, consists of a not
very extensive quadrangle. It should be much
more so ; and that it is not—being the residence
and place of office of three kings—Garter,
Clarencieux, and Norroy ; of six heralds, Lan-
caster, Somerset, Richmond, Windsor, York,
and Gloucester ; and of four pursuivants,
Rouge Croix, Blue Mantle, Portcullis, and Rouge
Dragon—we may reasonably suppose that some
of these regal personages sleep out of town. But
even if it is not large,• it is curious. It has its
bell-shaped archway, which in Sir William Dug-
dale's time was considered quite a wonder. It
has its antiquities and its great men connected
with it ; and upon a sunny summer day, a stroll
up Bennet's-hill from the noisy Thames-street,
where coal waggons and grain carts are plunging,
is well repaid by a glance round the quite colle-
giate place, the entrance of which is the bell-
shaped arch aforesaid.
On the right of the visitor, as he enters, is the
Earl Marshal's office, wherein Courts of Chivalry
were held, to which courts, in times gone past,
people who bore the arms and ensigns which did
not belong to them, were summoned and fined.
The Earl Marshal's office is a large room, with a
black, oaken panelling, an immense chair of
state, and with a square space in the centre of
the room, railed off something after the fashion
of the spaces around which, in our churches, the
communicants kneel. A large and long table in
the centre used formerly to be occupied by the
pursuivants and inferior heralds, whilst the Earl
Marshal occupied the chair, and the Kings of the
College sat at his feet. Outside the rail stood the
Commonalty, and the person cited ; and if he
had unjustly assumed arms, his shield was, by
the hands of the Earl Marshal's men, reversed,
and the bearings obliterated. Verily, if such
were now the custom, many of those for whom
Mr. Smalt " finds" arms would be summoned
and exposed. The last cause concerning the
right bearing of arms is now of old date, being
of the year 1720 (that between Blount and
Blunt) ; the most known, that between the
Scrope and Grosvenor families in the reign of
Richard 11. ; a trial whereat the poet Chaucer
bore witness.

The most weighty cause which could come
before this Earl Marshal's court, was that of
degradation from knighthood ; but this was so
seldom called into requisition, that only three
instances are recorded : Sir Andrew Hanlay,
1322 ; Sir Ralph Grey, 1464 ;. and Sir Francis
Michell, 1621. With the degradation of a knight,
any one who has read Sir Walter Scott, who was
himself no contemptible herald, is familiar. The
real scene is not very different from the fictitious
one, as the following, which we gather from
Noble's " History of the College of Arms," will
attest :—" On Wednesday, June 20th, 1621, Sir
Francis Michell being brought into court and there
set upon a standing for that purpose, the Somerset
herald read these words Be it known to all
men that Sir Francis Michell, knight, for certain
heinous offences by him committed, was thought
worthy to be degraded of his honour by sentence
of Parliament.' " There is somewhat more said
to the same effect; his gilt " spurres;" emblems