living peerage, and an animated chronicle of the actions of the great, virtuous and vicious: but, if the truth must be spoken,--and in a private memoir, why conceal it?--she _had_ acquaintances of a grade far inferior! I say not that _I_ saw it, because I was never accustomed to lounge at our college gate; but the men that were most frequently there, _insist_ that they have many times beheld the gay widow steal forth in the dusk of the evening, dressed as for a party, and have tracked her to the house of a haberdasher in the vicinity! Well! she is married now, and is Mrs. Welborn--the _gay widow_ no longer. How she accomplished this affair I know not; it broke like a thunder-clap upon the ears of the good people of--. Suddenly, the widow was gone--her house and furniture were sold--_the_ happy event was announced in the papers--no cake was sent out--so the gossips were disappointed; and as I have since learnt, that the lady has _thrice_ undergone a separation from her husband, I imagine that she must have been so likewise. M. L. B. * * * * * THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS. * * * * * THE SORROWS OF ROSALIE, _A Tale_. This beautiful little volume has, in less than six months, reached a fourth edition, which is to us a proof that the readers of the present day know how to discriminate pure gold from pinchbeck or _petit or_, and intense, natural feeling from the tinsel and tissues of flimsy "poetry." The booksellers, nevertheless, say that poetry is unsaleable, and they are usually allowed to speak feelingly on the score of popularity and success. Yet within a very short time, we have seen a splendid poem--the "Pelican Island," by (_the_) Montgomery; the "Course of Time," a Miltonic composition, by the Rev. Mr. Pollock; and now we have before us a poem, of which on an average, an edition has been sold in six weeks. The sweeping censure that poems are unsaleable belongs then to a certain grade of poetry which ought never to have strayed out of the album in which it was first written, except for the benefit of the stationer, printer, and the newspapers. Nearly all the poetry of this description is too _bizarre_, and wants the pathos and deep feeling which uniformly characterize true poetry, and have a lasting impression on the reader: whereas, all the "initial" celebrity, the honied sweetness, lasts but for a few months, and then drops into oblivion.