The Sun.
London, England, 1826-10-02 00:00:00

Advocate. " Mansie Wauch's Autobiography" is an ar-
ticle in Mr.. flitl.t's very best style, who, after an unusual
silence, seems to bengal!' entering the field as a periodical
Essayist. The following extract from his last article is
eminently beautiful:—
Oh wad that my time ware ower but,
W►' this wintry sleet and snaw,
That I might see our house again,
I' the bonny birken shaw
For this is no my sin life,
And I peak and pins away,
Wi the thochte o' hams, and the young liow'rs,
I' the glad green month o' May.
I used to wauk in the morning
Wi' the loud sang o' the lark,
And the whistling o' the ploughmen lads,
As they gaed to their wank
I used to wear in the young limbs
Free .the tod and the mating stream ;
But the warld is changed, and a' thing now
To me seems like a dream.

There are busy crowds around me
On ilka long dull street ;
Yet, though sae many surround me,
I kenna ane I meet,
And I think on kind, kent faces,
Aud a blithe and cherry days,
When I wandcr'd out wi' our sin folk,
Outower the simmer braes,

Wae's me, for my heart is breaking ;
I think on my sister's ama',
And on my brithers greeting,
When I came front home awl;
And oh! how my wither aublait,
As she shook me by the hand;
When I left the door o' our amid house,
To come to the stranger land !
There's nae place like our ain hams ;
Oh, I wish that I was there !
There's nae place like our ain hams
To be met lei' ony where !
And, oh ! that I were back again
To our farm and fields 1,10 green ;
And heard the tongues o' my ain folk,
And was what I lane been !
The Essay on the " Military Policy and Institutions of
Great Britain" is as heavy—to use the words of Rabelais,
in his Voyage to the Holy Route—" as a gentleman with
the night-mare ;" it contains, however, some important
facts, which we recommend to the Reader's attention.

, The " Cabinet of Portraits," by Leigh Hunt, is also
another good feature in the New Monthly. his spirited,
lively, and fanciful. As a specimen of the poetical talent
of this Magazine, we give the following beautiful " Records
of Woman" :

RECORDS OF WOMAN.—JOAN or tti AHED'S.

That was a joyous day in Rheims of old,
When peal on peal of mighty music roll'd
Forth from her throng'il Cathedral ; while around
A multitude, whose billows made no sound,
Clusin'd to a hush of wonder, though elate
With victory, liste.i'd to their temple's gate.
—And what was done within ?—Within, the light,
Through the rich gloom of storied window. flowing,
Tinged with soft awfulness a stately sight,
The chivalry of France, their proud heads bowing
In martial vassalage ! While 'midst that ring,
And shadow'd by ancestral tombs, a king
Received his birthright's crown. For this, the by-mn
Swell'd out like rushing waters, and the day
With the sweet censer's misty breath grew dim,
As through long aisles, it floated o'er th' array
Of arms and sweeping states. But who, alone
And unapproach'd, beside the alter-atone,
With the white banner, forth 1 eke sunshine streaming.
And the gold helm, through clouds of fragrance glsinsing,
Silent and radiant stood ? l. -The./., -
And the fair fats rented that.upward giced
Intensely worshipping : a still clear face,
Youthful, hut brightly solemn! Woman's cheek
And brow were there in deep devotion meek,
Yet glorified wish Inspiration's trace
On their pure paleness" ; while, enthroned above,
The pictured Virgin, with her smile of lore,
Sceru'd bending o'er her votaress. That slight Jima
Was that the leader through the battle storm ?
Had the soft light in that adoring eye
Guided the warrior where the minds flash'il high ?
---'Twas so, even so !--and thou, the shepherd's child,
Joanne, the lowly dreamer of the wild !
Never before, and never since that hour,
Hath liftman, mantled with victorious power.
Stood forth as thou beside the shrine didst stand,
Holy, amidst the knighthood of the land,
And beautiful with joy and with renown,
Lift thy white banner o'er the olden crows,
Ransotu'd for France by thee!
_

- The rites are done
Now let the dome with trumpet-notes be shaken,
And bid the echoes of the tombs awaken ;
And crone thou forth, that Heaven's rejoicing sun
Dklaalyigghitveer tohfevoirectoelry7Le
Afrorrintihnilleaonwt own bin. skin,
A proud rich stream of warlike melodies,
Gush'd through the portals of the antique fano,
And forth abs came. Then rose a nation's sound..-.
Oh! Ivhat a power to bid the quick heart bound,
The wind bears onwards with the stormy *beer
Man gives to Glory on her high career!
Is there indeed such power ?—far deeper dwells
In ens kind household voice, to reach tht cello
Whence happiness flows forth !—the shouts that fill'4l
The hollow heaven tempestuously were still'd
One moment ; and in that brief pause, the tone,
As of a breeze that o'er her borne hart blown,
Sank on the bright maid's heart.—" Joanne!"-.—Who spoke
Like those whose childhood with her childhood yaw
Under one roof?—" Joanne !" That murmur broke
With founds of weeping firth'!— he tnrn'ti,--she knew
Beside her, mark'd from all the thousands there,
In the calm beauty of his silver hair,
The stately shepherd; and the youth, whose joy
Prank his dark eye fluted proudly; and the boy,
The youngest horn, that ever laird her best
—" Father; and ye, my brothers !"o—On the breast
Of that grey sire she sank..and swiftly back,
Ev'n an instant, to their native trick
Her free thoughts Ilowtd.—She saw the pomp no more—
ma plum% the banners !—to her cabin door,
And to the Fairy's fountain in the glutei!.
Where her young sisters by her side had plapl,
And to her hamlet's chapel, where it rose
Hallowing the forest unto deep repose,
Her *pith tuned. The very wood-note, sung
In early sprinte-titno Icy the bird which dwelt
Where o'er her father's roof the beech-leaves hung,
Was in her heart, a music heard and felt,
Winning her beck to Nature. She unbound
The helm of many battles from her bead,
And, with her bright loc!ks bow'd to sweep As.lll"ndi
Lifting her voice up, *rept for joy, and mid*--
" Bless me, try Father, bless me!. and with Ow
To the still cabin and the beechen tree,
Let me return!"

Oh ! never did thitureys
Through thi green haunts of happy tofluuT
Wander again, Joanne ! Too south of fat"
lied abed its nulisnee on thy passant-name;
And bonght done by gifts beruoi *ll price,
The trusting*.beart's repass, ;h. ParadimP
Of home with ell its lore 4. Bosh Fiat "ow
The crowd of glory unto woman's brow,
• " Jeanne d'Arc .vast en la jai. de voir plialons quelptie
stole .de rots *slither. tine joie plus ineffable encore l'attendatt a
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tti
ncluiln;ePrel 7hl r oCjhisiger lue'sll.7l:4l:ettAri7tre.ruarintunt ;Paz ti,ll rr44.*:, y:71:
rs vita poor no instant, an milieu de sa daps lesllia this
Nee rertueux, stupid cette yertneuse tills se pint renvopr ter
boil were (Pesti tne rion retie Ftoit ento rie.".4-.Mns Yt et fie de (kilo.
tree and fountain near Dotnretni, the nstive village of
-Somme d'Are, were believed to be haunted by kiriti, and vete
mum frequented by the young girl, af the neig)thouring )teinlets,
who often suspended wreaths of 'flowers froM the branikel of the
tree, which war a beach of remarkable size and beauty.

. •
The Inspector eloses our brief and general notice it is
nothing very marvellous in point of intellect; but good