THE JUVENILE FORGET-ME-NOT FOR 1833.
(Edited by Mrs. S.C. Hall.)
This is a delightful little book for the improvement of the mind and heart, as well as for the amusement, of young persons. It is full of prose and poetic story, pretty incident and anecdote—all which convey some useful moral, and point to some really good end and purpose. It is still a book for the play-room, notwithstanding it treats of botany and zoology. Travelling on the Ice, by Dr. Walsh, explains "what put it into Captain Parry's head to go to the North Pole;" the Poet's Invitation, by Allan Cunningham, is sweet and simple; the Shamrock, by L.E.L., consists of some clever lines, accompanying a portrait of two fairy sisters and a little laughing brother—
The image of a happy child
Doth link itself with all
That natural loveliness, which least
Reminds us of our fall.
Somewhat of angel purity,
Somewhat of angel grace,
Ere longer years bring shade and toil.
Are on a childish face.
My Dog Quail contains some amusing anecdotes by the late Dr. Walsh; and in the Settlers, a dialogue, by Miss Leslie, of Philadelphia, are a few touching points of distinction between savage and civilized life; the Indian Island, by L.E.L., is more of a story; a Walk in a Flower Garden is from the accomplished pen of Mrs. Loudon, explaining to two juvenile inquirers the origin of the names and properties of certain plants; a Girl's Farewell to the River Lee, by Charles Swain, is plaintively interesting; Seven and Seventeen, by Mrs. S.C. Hall, is clever and lively, and full of home truth; the Sailor's Wife is a pensive ballad-tale of the sea, by M. Howitt, and likely to linger on the mind of childhood; the First Weavers, by the Rev. C. Williams, is as ingenious in its way as Professor Rennie's Bird or Insect Architecture: it enumerates many interesting processes of weaving by insects and birds, who, unlike human artificers, pursue their tasks in the untainted atmosphere of nature;—there are also two or three pretty playful prose sketches, and some clever lines by Miss Leslie, of Philadelphia, on C.R. Leslie's picture of Lady Jane Grey's reluctance to accept the crown of England. We quote the concluding lines, by L.E.L., to accompany the frontispiece:—
THE ROSE OF EDEN-DALE AND HER HOT-HOUSE FLOWERS.
They were so beautiful this morn—
The lily's graceful wand
Hung with small bells, as delicate
As from a fairy's hand.
The Indian rose, so softly red,
As if in coming here
It lost the radiance of the south,
And caught a shade of fear.
The white geranium vein'd with pink,
Like that within the shell
Where, on a bed of their own hues,
The pearls of ocean dwell.
But where is now the snowy white,
And where the tender red?
How heavy over each dry stalk
Droops every languid head!
They are not worth my keeping now—
She flung them on the ground—
Some strewed the earth, and some the wind
Went scattering idly round.
She then thought of those flowers no more,
But oft, in after years,
When the young cheek was somewhat pale,
And the eyes dim with tears—
Then she recalled the faded wreath
Of other happier hours,
And felt life's hope and joy had been
But only Hot-house Flowers!
The Engravings, ten in number, with an inscription plate and vignette, are above the usual calibre of the "juvenile" embellishments: they are better than mere pictures for children, and the chosen subjects harmonize with the benevolent tone and temper of the letter-press; all of them will tend to cherish kindly feelings in the hearts of the little readers. Among the best of the prints are Going to the Well, from Gainsborough; and the Industrious Young Cottager—a contented girl at work, with a bird in an opened cage beside her: the little scene is one of happy un-imprisonment and cheerful task.