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FRUITS OF INDUSTRY.

Last week the friends and supporters of the Metropolitan Charity Schools dined together at a tavern in the city.  Among the toasts were “the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex,” upon which (one of them,) Sir Chapman Marshall, returned thanks in the following plain, sensible words: 

“My Lord Mayor and gentlemen, I want words to express the emotions of my heart.  You now see before you an humble individual who has been educated in a parochial school. (Loud cheers.) I came to London in 1803, without a shilling—­without a friend.  I have not had the advantage of a classical education, therefore you will excuse my defects of language. (Cheers.) But this I will say, my Lord Mayor and gentlemen, that you witness in me what may be done by the earnest application of honest industry; and I trust that my example may induce others to aspire, by the same means, to the distinguished situation which I have now the honour to fill. (Repeated plaudits.)”

In its way, this brief address is as valuable as Hogarth’s print of the Apprentices.

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FRENCH POETRY FOR CHILDREN.

M. Ventouillac, editor of a popular Selection from the French Classics, has professionally experienced the want of a book of French Poetry for Children, and to supply this desideratum, has produced a little volume with the above title.  It consists of brief extracts, in two parts—­1.  From Morel’s Moral de l’enfance; 2.  Miscellaneous Poems, Fables, &c., by approved writers; and is in French just what Miss Aikin’s pretty poetical selection is in English.  We hope it may become as popular in schools and private tuition; and we feel confident that M. Ventouillac’s good taste as an editor will do much by way of recommending his work to the notice of all engaged in the instruction of youth.

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BLUE BEARD.

The original Blue Beard who has, during our childhood, so often served to interest and alarm our imaginations, though for better dramatic effect, perhaps, Mr. Colman has turned into a Turk—­for surely the murderer of seven wives could be little else—­was no other than Gilles, Marquess de Laval, a marshal of France, a general of great intrepidity, who distinguished himself, in the reigns of Charles the Sixth and Seventh, by his courage, especially against the English, when they invaded France.  The services that he rendered his country might have immortalized his name, had he not for ever blotted his glory by the most terrible murders, impieties, and debaucheries.  His revenues were princely; but his prodigalities might have made an emperor a bankrupt.  Wherever he went, he had in his suite a seraglio, a company of actors, a band of musicians, a society of sorcerers, a great number