* * * * *
ENGLISH AND FOREIGN NEWSPAPERS.
Every one acquainted with the public press of Europe, must have observed the contrast which a London Newspaper forms with the journals of every other capital in Europe. The foreign journals never break in upon the privacy of domestic life. There the fame of parties and dinners is confined to the rooms which constitute their scene, and the names of the individuals who partake of them never travel out of their own circle. How widely different is the practice of the London Journals! A lady of fashion can find no place so secret where she can hide herself from their search. They follow her from town to country, from the country to the town. They trace her from the breakfast-table to the Park, from the Park to the dinner-table, from thence to the Opera or the ball, and from her boudoir to her bed. They trace her every where. She may make as many doubles as a hare, but they are all in vain; it is impossible to escape pursuit; and yet the introduction of female names into the daily newspapers, now so common, is only of modern date.
The late Sir Henry Dudley Bate, editor of The Morning Herald, was the first person who introduced females into the columns of a newspaper. He was at the time editor of The Morning Post.— New Monthly Magazine.
* * * * *
The Gatherer.
A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
SHAKSPEARE.
* * * * *
REFLECTION IN A FLOWER GARDEN.
I hate the flower whose wanton breast[9]
Awaits the sun at morn and
noon,
And when he’s hid behind the west,
As gaily flaunteth with the
moon.
Mine be the flower of virgin leaf,
That when its sire has left
the plain,
Wraps up its charms in silent grief,
Nor ope’s them till
he comes again.
E.K.
[9] There be some flowers
that do remain quite unclosed, during
not
only the day, but during also the night. There
be others
which
do likewise open during the day, albeit when night
cometh,
they close themselves up until the sun do appear,
when
they again ope their beautifulness.—Old
Botanist.
* * * * *
A “THIN NIGHT” AT VAUXHALL.
There were fewer audience than performers, and those made up of fellows evidently not in the habit of shirt-wearing; of women there were very few— of ladies none; the fireworks were bad and brief, and the waterworks the most absurd affair I ever beheld; the thing was overdone. To the people who would like to go to Vauxhall in fine weather, second-rate Italian singing and broken down English prima donnas are no inducement,