On the left, proceeding down Chancery Lane, Dashall pointed to a respectable house as the occasional residence of a lady in the first class of literature, whose writings have given universal satisfaction, and will continue to be read with increased avidity, as conveying the most admirable lessons of morality, told in a manner alike impressive and pathetic;—Mrs. Op*e; the widow of the late celebrated artist. This excellent woman is endeared to the circle of her numerous acquaintance by a pre-eminent
1 Tallyho had improved in his knowledge of Real Life in London.—His definition of Shopping was perfectly correct. One of those fashionable female idlers, who delight in occupying the time, and exercising the patience of the industrious, alighted, a short time since, at the shop of a tradesman in Ludgate-street, and after a couple of hours spent in examining and re-examining a variety of rich silks, made her election at last, and desired the mercer to cut her off a shilling's worth, throwing, at the same time, the money on the counter. The tradesman, with perfect coolness, took up the piece of coin, laid it on a corner of the silk, circum-scribed it with his scissors, and presented the part so cut out to the lady, as the shilling's worth required. We feel pleasure in recording the result. The lady admired the mercer's equanimity of temper, laughed heartily at his manner of illustrating it, and in atonement for trouble given and patience exemplified, became, and still continues, one of his most valued customers.
suavity of disposition, blended with superior mental endowments; to the unfortunate by her benevolent heart, to which the appeal of distress is never made in vain; and to the public generally, by her invaluable works, the uniform tendency of which is the advancement of virtue and the inculcation of the benign feelings of humanity.{1}
1 To the admirers of Mrs. Op*e, the following lines, never before published, will not prove unacceptable. TRIBUTE OF RESPECT. O Thou of matchless power to raise And bend the Passions to thy sway I— Whose pen with magic force portrays, Whose spell the shadowy forms obey. Of Joy and Grief, of Hope and Fear, And wiles from Apathy a tear,— Enchantress! take the duteous lays To Worth that Admiration pays. To thee, as to thy Op*e, given On Immortality a claim; His virtues pass'd from Earth to Heaven, Yet still exist in deathless fame;— His pencil to thy pen assign'd To charm, instruct, and grace mankind!— And Oh! could but my humble strains To thy impressive skill aspire, The Muse that faintly now sustains Thy worth, would make poetic fire, And glowing high, with fervid name, Would graft her honors on thy name.— But ah! bereft of every stay, From Hope exil'd, with Woe I keep My vigils, each sad sorrowing day, And wake, each dreary night, to weep!— By Penury chill'd poetic powers, No voice to soothe, no hand to save, And snatch a victim from the grave,— Around me Desolation lours, And glaring, midst the deep'ning gloom, Despair and Famine urge me to the tomb! If, all unmeet, my humble strain Is destin'd still to flow in vain;— Shouldst thou the tribute now refuse Essayed by Misery and the Muse; Reject not yet the lay with scorn, To thee by kindred feelings borne;— For still thy tales of plaintive tone Breathe pain and sufferings, like mine own.
Facing the entrance to the Royal Wax Works, Sir Felix made a full stop;—“That fellow,” said he, alluding to the whole length figure of the Centinel, “stands as motionless as a statue; by the powers, but half-a-dozen peep-o-day boys in his rear would be after putting life and mettle in his heels!—Shoulder and carry your arms, you spalpeen; and is this the way that you show the position of a soldier?” at same time enforcing his admonition with a smart stroke of his cane over the arm of the inanimated military representative. The attendant, a young man in the costume of the Yeomen of the Guards, remonstrated; Dashall and Tallyho laughed most immoderately; and the baronet, equally enjoying the joke, persisted in affecting to believe, that he was addressing himself to a living object, greatly to the amusement of the now congregating street passengers.
“Begging your pardon, ray jewel,” continued Sir Felix, “long life and good luck to you, in your stationary quarters, and may His Majesty never find a more active enemy than yourself!—By the soul of my grandmother, it would be well for poor Ireland, who has taken leave of her senses, if her bog-trotting marauders were as peaceably inclined as you are.—Fait and troth, but you're a fine looking lad after all, and with the assistance of your master, and a touch of Prometheus, we might raise a regiment of braver fellows than the King's Guards, without bounty or beat of drum, in the twinkling of an eye, honey; but with your leave, and saving yourself unnecessary trouble, we'll be after paying a visit to the company above stairs; “and the party proceeded to the exhibition room.—
Here were representatives of the living and mementos of the dead! Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses,
Ah! cease the sad resemblance here!— Thee, then, to every feeling dear Of tender sympathy,—thy way Illumin'd to life's remotest day. In bliss, in worth, in talent shine, Though pain, and want unsuccour'd, mine! Adorning this terrestrial sphere, Be long an Op*e's talents given; And Virtue consecrate the tear When call'd to join her native Heaven! A. K.
warriors, statesmen, poets, and philosophers, in social communion: not forgetting the lady who had three hundred and sixty-five children at a birth!!{1}
The baronet made many congees to the great and inferior personages by whom he was surrounded, admired the heterogeneity of the group, and regretted that their imperfect creation precluded the possibility of converse.