after this same old fashion of ours. And we still declare our old sentiments to be unchanged. We study to love-and be loved; and we verily believe that we shall die in this "faith." If it makes our thoughts so happy whilst we live, our death may be anticipated without a sigh or misgiving. "Little children, love one another," is the gentle command which encircles our heart. It will be found there long after we shall have been gathered to our fathers. FIRE-SIDE JOYS. BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. HOW PURE is the joy in the Husbandman's breast, And see,-from the lattice, his wife has espied A kind note of welcome now falls on his ear; Their looks reveal more than their lips can express, No riches could cause him the thrill of delight In the breast of each other they fondly confide His children now gather around him, to share Or some childish grief that his smile can dispel. Now supper awaits him. Though homely the fare, The pure air of comfort is felt everywhere; hundred and thirty miles apart, and inROME and NAPLES, though only about a the same language, and of kindred blood, are habited by a population of the same faith, singularly unlike. Rome is situated in the midst of a sombre plain, is without foreign commerce, is the capital of an ecclesiastical state, and overshadowed by the solemn memories of a great past. From these, and other external influmitive and inexplicable peculiarities in the ences, and, perhaps, from some of those priorganisation of the inhabitants themselves, in the streets, and in the countenances of there is a general air of gravity and silence those who frequent them. The light from the sky seems absorbed by the gloomy walls of the new passages upon which it falls; and at night the dim lamps are mere guiding points to the eye, with but faint illuminating power. The absence of loud noises of any kind is remarkable. There are no heavilyladen carts or drays thundering over the pavements; no huge omnibuses lumbering along. The carts, which come in from the country, are either lightly constructed, or move at a slow pace. The sound of the human voice does not gather and swell in streams. Ecclesiastics glide along without speaking; foreigners and artists do their talking in the cafés; the peasants from the country do not seem to be a very chatty race; and even the beggars are not clamorous in their approaches. Naples, on the contrary, situated in a region of varied and smiling beauty, is full of life, movement, and gaiety. To the swarm of unthinking ephemera that hum and dart in the sunshine, the present is everything; and the past history of Naples, as compared with its present state, throws a shadow on the brow of the most sensitive patriot. There is no ghost of departed power and glory to rise up and frown upon the giddy gaiety of a thoughtless race. In Naples, the outward aspect of the earth, sea, and sky, have passed into the spirit of man, and kindled it to a genial emulation with nature. The better classes are fond of showy colors in their dress. Soldiers in gay uniforms take the place of ecclesiastics in Rome. That taste for rich and gorgeous splendor, which we notice as influence over the city upon which the wind characteristic of the African race, sheds its from Africa so often blows. In Naples, too, the silence of Rome is displaced by a roar of voices. Everybody talks in a loud tone, and There's a warm place for THEE at the bright fire-enforces his words with the most animated. There yet is another, whose welcome reveals But a tithe of the faithful attachment he feels; He has listen'd for him since the close of the day; And with what joy he welcomes him!--honest old Tray! A kind, grateful heart, beats beneath that rough hide, side! gestures. This universal and fundamental sound is varied by the rattling of rapid carriages and the shouts of the open-air dealers in eatables and other articles, stationary or itinerant, till the whole air overflows with the uproar. In Rome, the influence of external nature being less powerful and attractive, men have turned their thoughts inward; and have created or collected forms of beauty in architecture, sculpture, and painting. In Naples, the world in the open air has taken such hold upon the senses, and woven such a net of fascination around the facile nature of the people, that it has prevented the discipline and devotion of mind which make the artist. Art is a reproduction, and not an imitation of Nature. The forms of the world must be turned into shape in the artist's mind, before they can appear as creations. Naples and its neighborhood are so lovely, that there is no room for the ideal. There is so much to be enjoyed, that there is no time for study. It is a curious fact, that Naples has produced but one great landscape-painter, Salvator Rosa; and that his inspiration was drawn, not from the characteristic scenery of Naples, but from the wooded mountains of La Cava and Nocera. No Neapolitan painter has ever warmed his canvass with the pearly lights of Cuyp, or spread over it the aerial gold of Claude Lorraine. In this, as in so many other things, successful work is the result of a due proportion between the task and the instrument. Southey, whose literary industry was so remarkable within the range of his own library, said, that he should never have accomplished anything, if his energies had been buried under the vast stores of the British Museum. general characteristic is excessive mobility both of body and face. The play of countenance is rapid and incessant. Two ragged idlers talk on the Chiaja with gestures so animated and glowing, that an orator might study them with profit. We feel, as we walk along the streets, that multitudes of firstrate comic actors are here running to waste. In Rome, in spite of all the changes of time and the blows of fate, there is still an indefinable something which recalls the old Roman aspect and spirit; but in Naples, everything indicates a corrupted Greek mind and character: vivacity that has passed into buffoonery; a love of beauty that has degenerated into sensuality and voluptuousness; quickness that has become restlessness; and susceptibility that has declined into impatience. Naples is to Greece what the farces of the San Carlino are to the comedies of Aristophanes. HOPE HOPE, -calm, delusive Hope! Of all deceivers, thou deceivest most. Strange and perverse as it may seem, 'tis better so than otherwise; for man, proud man, with all his candid, equitable, just professions, lives. by deception,-deceiving others, and in turn deceived himself! From prince to peasant, from the Minister of State to the poor tramping juggler who displays his knowledge of "Ye Mysterie to the astonished eyes of gaping multitudes of boorish clowns,-all flock to thee. At thy standard they crave high-sounding titles, power, wealth, and fame. All seek some goal, supported and sustained by thee,—and thou deceivest them! Weak, struggling mortals, who from day to day toil on with anxious care in search of gold, lean heavily on thee; and when they fancy they have gained the point, then comes the chilling blast. HOPE has deserted them; and in the silent grave they sleep, uncared for and unknown! The Dutch painter, who, when he looked out of the window, saw a meadow, a windmill, a willow-tree hanging over a brook, or . a rainy sunset behind a row of trees, felt himself competent to grapple with such themes, and set himself to work accordingly; but what artist would not fold his hands in despair before the glories of a sunset in the The parted wife lives, once again to clasp Bay of Naples? In personal appearance, so her husband to her breast. The mother, far as my own observation went, the ad- whose whole soul is centred in her absent child, vantage is decidedly with the Romans. trusts that they may meet again. Oh! with There are more fine faces in the latter city, what fond delight they trust in thee, whilst and generally a higher expression and loftier thou dost picture scenes not to be realised; carriage I noticed a great many counte-joys brilliant, but joys that ne'er can be fulnances in Naples, especially among women, which were repulsive from their strong stamp of animal coarseness. Sensual mouths, large and impudent noses, and rough, vinous com plexions were common; and the effect of these personal disadvantages was generally enhanced by a filthy and slatternly attire. In Rome, there is much of quiet dignity observable in the manner of the common people met with in the streets. In Naples, the filled! Yet are there traits in thee, that will redeem the heart's severest censure of thy fallacy. Thou art the rock on which the Christian builds his faith, by which he is sustained in adverse storms; and by whose aid he struggles, with the spirit of a giant, against impending evils (through this vale of sorrow, misery and tears), to gain a haven of joy. This, this is thy redeeming quality! If such be HOPE, though Hope be called deceitful, well content am I to be deceived in things relating to this mundane sphere; and let my motto be "HOPE ON, HOPE EVER!" H. H. HETHERINGTON, AMUSEMENTS IN SCANDINAVIA. We observe in an interesting work, entitled Sixteen Months in the Danish Isles, that the inhabitants of Scandinavia have much delight in practising our game of La Grace. The author describes it so pleasantly, that we think our readers can hardly fail to be gratified with the particulars as he has jotted them down. This game used to be very popular with us; and we have often felt delighted to see our young ladies enter into it with spirit. It was conducive to health. Alas! it has been put down by "Fashion." Young people of the present day are forbidden to be "natural." Health is quite a secondary consideration. I will here (says the author) describe this game, called in Scandinavia," the Ring." We formed a wide circle of young folks on the lawn, each indi vidual holding in his hand a wand. A few light wooden rings, in circumference as large as a soupplate, were produced. These were to be thrown from one person to the other by means of the wands. If the thrower did his or her business awkwardly the receiver might have to run a long way to catch the ring, and miss it after all, and then have to run back to his former position to pitch it in turn to the next. Much agility and adroitness were called for, involving a good deal of exercise. It was particularly necessary to turn about with no loss of time, after flinging one's ring to the next in the circle, in order to be ready to receive that which might otherwise be whizzing through the air from one's opponent on the other side. This was the most difficult rule to observe; inasmuch as it was very tempting, on casting the ring aloft, to watch how it came down and whether it was caught; but if on any occasion you were unlucky enough to stand gazing after it, you were sure to feel a ring from the opposite quarter come dangling about your head or shoulders. People are always on the outlook to take their neighbor at unawares, just as he is busy casting to his neighbor. As there are no forfeits or punishments connected with the game, it is a very agreeable one where there is sufficient scope, producing an equally powerful but more healthful glow on the cheeks of youth and beauty than the exercise of a heated ball-room. The accompaniments are also more beautiful than the decorations of any dancing saloon, the grass as a carpet; the beds of real flowers as its pattern; the blue Heaven as a ceiling, or (if it be clouded) with clouds gilded by the upward rays of the setting sun; the atmosphere in the purity, and mildness, and balminess of a summer evening, instead of the usual heated air; and the heavy foliage of the neighboring forests as natural walls, seemingly denser than walls of stone and lime. Although myself busy with the game, and more taken up than the others because I was new to it, and had to be taught, I still had time enough to admire the effect of it upon my fellow-players, particularly on the fair ones of the party, who entered into the thing with the completest surrender of all stiffness, resembling children for the time being; and young ladies are in general fearful of looking like children, yet it becomes them well-as what doth not become them? There is beauty even in wind-blown locks, and tangled curls, and shoes been witness to the merry process by which these that have gone down in the heel,-when one has disorders have been brought about. On a At the crystal doors of the "garden room " lay two dogs, which snapped at the flies; now and then they got up and gambolled about the lawn, as it were in imitation of their superiors. seat by the window sat some older ladies working and chatting, as grave as if no diversions were going on before their eyes. Inside were a few more; the lady of the house taking an occasional glance through the window to see how we got on; thoughtless troop ran their feet upon one of the looking not exactly happy when any of our flower-beds, which happened now and then. Flowers were cultivated here to great perfection. POOR VERONIQUE! SHE SPOKE NOT; but her mournful eye Her looks betray'd her wild despair. Where could she hope or comfort seek, But in his breast? poor Veronique ! She wander'd to a little spot Where they had pass'd some happy hours; Paused o'er the sweet "forget me not," And sought with tears his favorite flowers. Bright gems! but now, alas, too weak To cheer her heart,-poor Veronique ! She heeded not the twice-told tale That men are faithless, insincere. She thought his promise could not fail, His parting words she seemed to hear, When tears stood trembling on her cheek,— "I'll ne'er forget thee, Veronique !" Their fav'rite walks again she traced; But when the songs he loved were sung, And fills thy heart with bitterness. Of sorrow, bitterness, and grief. DEVONSHIRE, AND ITS ATTRACTIVE SALCOMBE AND ITS ESTUARY. MIDWAY BETWEEN THE TOWNS OF TORQUAY AND PLYMOUTH is situated the large and beautiful Estuary of Salcombe. At the entrance on the east, is the almost perpendicular promontory, called the Prawle Head; and on the west, rising to a height of nearly six hundred feet, is the Bolt Head. These two projections form the most southern extremity of the county of Devon. a At the mouth of the harbour, which is about half a mile in width, is a bar of sand, on which, at low ebb of spring tides, there is never less than six feet of water. About furlong inside the entrance, and rather on the east side, is a large knot of rocks, called the Blackstone, barely covered at high water spring tide. These, with a small rock, called the Wolf, only uncovered at the lowest tides, and situated a little farther seaward, form a natural breakwater, and protect the harbour (which is very commodious and safe) from the tremendous seas that, during a southwest gale, are hurled with overwhelming force on this part of the coast. Upon the two rocks above-mentioned, the bar and also on some other rocks nearer the Moult, beacons and buoys have been placed. These make the harbour easily accessible to strangers. On a small promontory to the left of the entrance of the harbour, and about half a mile within it, is situated the Moult, the beautiful residence of Lord Courtenay. This is a neat, commodious edifice, in a style partaking mainly of the Gothic. The grounds are beautifully wooded; and the gardens, which are tastefully laid out, contain many thriving plants of the Agave Americana, two of which have flowered in the grounds. (See KIDD'S JOURNAL for Jan.) The walls are covered with fine orange, citron, and lemon trees, and many other exotic plants, too numerous to mention; all of which are perfectly acclimated. A short distance above the Moult, on a rock nearly level with the water at high tide, stand the ruins of an ancient castle, which defended the entrance of the port, and was dismantled by the Parliamentary troops during the civil war in the reign of Charles the First. This castle was garrisoned for the King, by Sir Edmund Fortescue, Knt., of Fallapit, in this county. It was of an irregular form; circular on the south-west, and partly so towards the north-west; but the end to the north-east, nearest Salcombe, is narrowed almost to a point. Here the circular form terminates; while a straight wall, extending half the length of the fort, faces the high land behind it. The north-west section, which is principally in the direction of the land, is now standing, nearly entire It is built of hewn stone, about forty feet in height, and seven feet in thickness. On the inside are to be seen the holes in which the beams of the upper floor were placed. In the walls of this chamber are two port-holes, and seven loop-holes for musketry; which, as the land in the rear has an abrupt elevation, seem to be all that could be of any service in that quarter. From original papers in the possession of the Fortescue family, it appears that it was thought necessary to repair this castle during the civil wars, and Sir Edmund Fortescue, of Fallapit, Knt., received an order for that purpose from Prince Maurice, the King's nephew, by whom he was also appointed governor. Sir Edmund immediately set about repairing this fortress, which by the 15th January, 1645-6, he had completely provisioned and fortified with great guns and muskets; the expense of which, as appears by the Knight's daily account, amounted to On the said the sum of £3,196 14s. 6d. 15th of January, this castle (then called Fort Charles) was besieged by the Parliamentary forces under Sir Thomas Fairfax. In what manner the siege was carried on does not appear. Tradition says, the Parliamentary forces attacked it from Rickham Common, in the parish of Portlemouth, on the opposite side of the harbour; and a half-moon trench, with a mound and three places for three guns, may be seen on the south-east shore, exactly facing the castle, where they erected their battery. On the 7th of May, 1646, a little less than four months after the commencement of the siege, the garrison was obliged to capitulate. From some observations made by Sir Edmund Fortescue, in his book of accounts, it seems that this castle sustained two investments, before the one last mentioned; but no particulars are given, further than what may be gathered from these words-" Item, for great shot and musket shot, when Fort Charles was formerly twice besieged, £15 17s." Sir Edmund Fortescue afterwards sought safety in Holland, and in his exile compounded for his estate at upwards of £600. He lies buried at Delft, where a monument is erected to his memory. His portrait is still to be seen at Fallapit; where a large key, said to belong to the above-mentioned fort, is preserved. It is 1 foot 4 inches long, and 2 inches wide at the part that enters the lock. In the small bay between the old castle and the Moult, which is about a furlong in depth, and contains a beautiful beach of the same length, called North Sands, may be seen at low water spring tides, an immense quantity of trunks of trees, imbedded in the sand. These are supposed to be the remains of a wood, overwhelmed in former times by the sea; but there are no records or traditions in the neighborhood which can throw any light on the subject. On digging about a couple of feet below the surface, the ground appears to be a mass of decomposed vegetable matter; amongst which are found the small sprays of trees, nuts, acorns, and leaves-sufficiently solid to be preserved, if moderate care be used in taking them up. Some years since, I saw several persons engaged in taking out the trunk of a large oak which they had found about four feet below the surface. It was three feet in diameter and six in length; and when taken up a task which it required several men and horses to perform-the heart was found to be as black as ebony, and intensely hard, also capable of taking a fine polish. The outer part was in a soft pulpy state, to a depth of about six inches. I had some of the heart sawn into thin slices, out of which I made several trifles as presents for some of my friends. There is still a large piece of this wood in the grounds of the Moult (to which property the sands belong), the exterior of which has become moderately solid by exposure to the air. Other parts of this wood, nearer low-watermark, are perforated by innumerable quan tities of the Pholas Dactylus, or Prickly Piercer; which are frequently used by the fishermen as bait, under the local name of "sculpins." I have taken them from the wood, considerably exceeding four inches in length, and in a very perfect condition; which, as the wood near the surface is about the consistence of soft clay, may be easily done. I have no doubt, however, that at a depth of several feet, the wood will be found in good preservation; and, when dry, capable of being used in cabinet work. From this beach, and from the shores generally, the various species of the marine plants Fucus, Salsola, and Salicornia (commonly called ore weed), of which every tide casts up great quantities, are taken at will by the occupiers of the different farms in the neighborhood, who use it as a manure. The right is founded upon an unvarying custom, from time immemorial,-undenied, uninterrupted, so that it cannot now be shaken. The Crithmum Maritimum, the true sea or rock samphire, which is used for pickling, grows abundantly in the crevices of the cliffs around this part of the coast. On the sands eastward and westward of the entrance of Salcombe Harbour, is found the Crambe Maritima, or sea kale, which is indigenous to these sands. As a delicious vegetable, it has been long known in this part of Devonshire, and transplanted into the gardens, where it was usual to blanch it with It was first introduced to the gea sand. culture of it. London markets in 1795, by the celebrated botanist Curtis, the author of "Flora Londinensis," and the Botanical Magazine, and who published a separate treatise upon the above the old castle just spoken of, stands About a quarter of a mile Woodville, formerly the seat of James Yates, Esq., but now used as a lodging-house. It nade; and in the gardens may be seen is a neat house, encompassed with a colonquantities of lemon, citron, and orange trees, an olive tree (entirely unprotected), and some splendid masses of the Phormium Tenax, or New Zealand Flax, which grows most luxuriantly, and flourishes as vigorously as in its native country. Three fine aloes have flowered here; and there are still some fine plants in the grounds. It commands a splendid view of the British Channel and the harbour; and as the Start Point, a few miles to the eastward, is generally the first land made by homeward-bound ships, there is scarcely any want of interest in the view from the Moult, Woodville, Ringrone, or Cliff House; while the spectacle presented by the sea-view during a strong south-west gale is majestic in the highest degree. A few hundred yards nearer Salcombe, and a short distance above the water's edge, stands Ringrone, the seat of Lord Kingsale. This is a handsome edifice, erected a few years since by the late Lord, in place of a rather incommodious building that occupied the same position. His Lordship also constructed a large esplanade several hundred feet in length, which is tastefully laid out. Adjoining Ringrone, but farther up the hill, stands Cliff House, the residence of Mrs. Walter Prideaux. This is a large and comfortable mansion, surrounded by productive gardens and ornamental grounds, and furnishing all in the way of comfort that one could desire. Below the house, and in a line with the esplanade of Lord Kingsale, Mrs. Prideaux has constructed one of about the same length, which, with that of Lord Kingsale (closely adjoining), forms a great ornament to the harbour. At the end of the esplanade nearest Salcombe, is the Preventive Station, and a ferry to the opposite parish of Portlemouth; the harbour, from its entrance to this place, preserves a nearly uniform width of half a mile. At the back of this esplanade is a splendid stone wall, about thirty feet in height, and extending nearly the whole of its length, which is to be planted with orange, citron, lemon, and lime trees; and in the course of a few years, this wall will present a remarkable object among the curiosities of the neighbothood. In the garden, in front of the drawing-room windows, is the spot where the |