worthy of attention as regards naval manners.  From this period, I cannot at present call to mind any sea song of importance till Gay’s “Black-eyed Susan,” which, you know, has maintained its popularity to the present hour, and which deserves to have done so, no less on account of the beauty of the verses, than of the pathetic air in the minor to which they are set.  This was, at no great length of time, succeeded by Stevens’s “Storm,” a song which, I believe you will all allow, stands deservedly at the head of the lyrics of the deep.  The words are nautically correct, the music is of a manly and original character, and the subject-matter is one of the most interesting of the many striking incidents common to sea-life.  These fine ballads, if I mistake not, were succeeded by one or two popular songs, with music by Dr. Arne; then came those of Dibdin, which were in their turn followed by a host of compositions, distinguished more by the strenuous, robust character of the music, than by poetical excellence, or professional accuracy in the words.  The songs in which the words happened to be vigorous and true—­(such, for example, as Cowper’s noble ballad called the “Castaway,” and the “Loss of the Royal George,”) were not set to music; but the powers of Shield, Davy, and others, were wasted on verses unworthy of their compositions.  Among these, the foremost in excellence is the “Arethusa,” a composition on which the singing of Incledon, and the bold, reckless, original John-Bull-like character of the air by Shield, or ascribed to him, have fixed a high reputation.  Davy’s “Bay of Biscay,” deserves its popularity; and the “Sailor Boy,” “The Old Commodore,” and one or two other melodies by Reeve, (who, though not much of a musician, was an admirable melodist,) abound also in the qualities which I have already alluded to, as peculiar to the national music adapted to sea songs.—­Blackwood’s Magazine.

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MAKING A BOOK.

Lady Morgan gives the following process by which her “Book of the Boudoir” was manufactured:  “While the fourth volume of the O’Briens,” says her ladyship, “was going through the press, Mr. Colburn was sufficiently pleased with the subscription (as it is called in the trade) to the first edition, to desire a new work from the author.  I was just setting off for Ireland, the horses literally putting to, [how curious!] when Mr. Colburn arrived with his flattering proposition. [How apropos!] I could not enter into any future engagement; [how awkward!] and Mr. Colburn taking up a scrabby MS. volume which the servant was about to thrust into the pocket of the carriage, asked, ‘What was that?’ [How touchingly simple!] I said it was ’one of many volumes of odds and ends de omnibus rebus;’ and I read him the last entry I had made the night before, on my return from the opera. [How very obliging, considering that the horses were literally put to!] ‘This is the very thing!’ said the ‘European publisher;’ [how charming! and yet how droll!] and if the public is of the same opinion, I shall have nothing to regret in thus coming, though somewhat in dishabille, before its tribunal.”