The Bijou.
Reading edition
Though last in the field, (for it is scarcely published) the Bijou will doubtless occupy a different place in public favour. Its embellishments are selected with much judgment, and in literary merit, it equals either of its contemporaries. Its second title is an Annual of Literature and the Fine Arts, and from the choice of its illustrations, deservedly so. Thus, among the painters, who have furnished subjects for the engravers, we have Holbein, Claude, and Primaticcio; and two from Sir Thomas Lawrence. The engraving from Holbein, Sir Thomas More and his Family,—is a novelty in an Annual, and is beautifully executed by Ensom. It has all the quaintness of the great master, whose pictures may be called the mosaic of painting. The Autumnal Evening, engraved by Dean, after Claude, is not so successful; although it should be considered that little space is allowed for the exquisite effect of the original: still the execution might have been better. The Frontispiece, Lady Wallscourt, after Sir Thomas Lawrence is in part, a first-rate engraving; Young Lambton, after the same master, is of superior merit. The face is beautifully copied; and, by way of hint to the scrappers, this print will form a companion to the Mountain Daisy, from the Amulet for the present year. There are, too, some consecrated landscapes, dear to every classical tourist, and of, no common interest at home—as Clisson, the retreat of Heloise; Mont Blanc; and the Cascade of Tivoli—all of which are delightfully picturesque. The view of Mont Blanc is well managed.
In the prose compositions we notice some of intense interest, among which are the Stranger Patron and the Castle of Reinspadte—both of German origin. There is too, a faithful historiette of the Battle of Trafalgar, which, with the History of the Family of Sir Thomas More, will be read with peculiar attention. Our extracts from the poetical department are by Mrs. Hemans and Miss Landon.
THE SLEEPERS.
Oh! lightly, lightly tread! A holy thing is sleep. On the worn spirit shed, And eyes that wake to weep: A holy thing from heaven, A gracious dewy cloud, A covering mantle, given The weary to enshroud. Oh! lightly, lightly tread! Revere the pale still brow, The meekly drooping head, The long hair's willowy flow! Ye know not what ye do, That call the slumberer back, From the world unseen by you, Unto Life's dim faded track. Her soul is far away, In her childhood's land perchance, Where her young sisters play, Where shines her mother's glance. Some old sweet native sound Her spirit haply weaves; A harmony profound Of woods with all their leaves: A murmur of the sea, A laughing tone of streams:— Long may her sojourn be In the music-land of dreams! Each voice of love is there, Each gleam of beauty fled. Each lost one still more fair— Oh! lightly, lightly tread!
Miss Landon has contributed more to the "Bijou" than to any other Annual, and a piece from her distinguished pen will increase the value and variety of our columns.
THE FEAST OF LIFE.
I bid thee to my mystic Feast, Each one thou lovest is gathered there; Yet put thou on a mourning robe, And bind the cypress in thy hair. The hall is vast, and cold, and drear; The board with faded flowers is spread: Shadows of beauty flit around, But beauty from each bloom has fled; And music echoes from the walls, But music with a dirge-like sound; And pale and silent are the guests, And every eye is on the ground. Here, take this cup, tho' dark it seem, And drink to human hopes and fears; 'Tis from their native element The cup is filled—it is of tears. What! turnest thou with averted brow? Thou scornest this poor feast of mine; And askest for a purple robe, Light words, glad smiles, and sunny wine. In vain, the veil has left thine eyes, Or such these would have seemed to thee; Before thee is the Feast of Life, But life in its reality!
We should not, however, pass over in silence a poem, of the antique school, entitled the Holy Vengeance for the Martyrdom of George Wishart, the merits of which are of a high order. Indeed, this piece, and the admirable composition of the History of Sir Thomas More and his Family, with the Holbein print, distinguish the Bijou from all other publications of its class, and are characteristic of the good taste of Mr. Pickering, the proprietor. Altogether, the Bijou for 1829 is very superior to the last volume, and, to our taste, it is one of the most attractive of the Christmas presents.