Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles

of the heroines of their verse.

SEVENTEEN is a promising time in life: it is redolent of youth, and
hope, and joy; may not the context hold good in art and literature.
Strictly speaking, we are but in our ninth year, although our volumes
number seventeen. If we continue to partake as largely of the gale of
public favour as hitherto, we shall not despair of an evergreen old
age. We know the value of this favour, and shall strive to maintain it
accordingly. It is to us like the Queen of Chess:

Lose not the Queen, for ten to one,
If she be lost, the game is gone.

Sterne, who delighted in large type and blanks, would probably call
this, as he did all life, "a mingled yarn;" and so we have done.

143, Strand, June 27, 1831.

* * * * *




MEMOIR

OF