It is but fair to MR. WHELKS to remark on one curious fact in this entertainment. When the situations were very strong indeed, they were very like what some favourite situations in the Italian Opera would be to a profoundly deaf spectator. The despair and madness at the end of the first act, the business of the long hair, and the struggle in the bridal chamber, were as like the conventional passion of the Italian singers, as the orchestra was unlike the opera band, or its ‘hurries’ unlike the music of the great composers. So do extremes meet; and so is there some hopeful congeniality between what will excite MR. WHELKS, and what will rouse a Duchess. SONNET TO LORD DENMAN. _Retiring from the Chief Justiceship of England._ There is a solemn rapture in the Hail With which a nation blesses thy repose, Which proves thy image deathless—that the close Of man’s extremest age whose boyhood glows While pondering o’er thy lineaments, shall fail To delegate to cold historic tale What DENMAN was; for dignity which flows Not in the moulds of compliment extern, But from the noble spirit’s purest urn Springs vital; justice kept from rigour’s flaw By beautiful regards; and thoughts that burn With generous ire, no form but thine shall draw Within the soul, when distant times would learn The bodied majesty of England’s Law. LIZZIE LEIGH. IN FOUR CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER III. That night Mrs. Leigh stopped at home; that only night for many months. Even Tom, the scholar, looked up from his books in amazement; but then he remembered that Will had not been well, and that his mother’s attention having been called to the circumstance, it was only natural she should stay to watch him. And no watching could be more tender, or more complete. Her loving eyes seemed never averted from his face; his grave, sad, care-worn face. When Tom went to bed the mother left her seat, and going up to Will where he sat looking at the fire, but not seeing it, she kissed his forehead, and said, ‘Will! lad, I’ve been to see Susan Palmer!’ She felt the start under her hand which was placed on his shoulder, but he was silent for a minute or two. Then he said, ‘What took you there, mother?’ ‘Why, my lad, it was likely I should wish to see one you cared for; I did not put myself forward. I put on my Sunday clothes, and tried to behave as yo’d ha liked me. At least I remember trying at first; but after, I forgot all.’ She rather wished that he would question her as to what made her forget all. But he only said, ‘How was she looking, mother?’ ‘Will, thou seest I never set eyes on her before; but she’s a good gentle looking creature; and I love her dearly, as I’ve reason to.’